BASED ON | YOUR BOYFRIEND KEEPS ASKING STRANGE EXISTENTIAL -OR WAY TOO DEEP FOR 1AM- QUESTIONS AND YOU JUST WANT TO SLEEP.
PAIRING | NAMJOON X F!READER
WARNINGS | NSFW - +1k words
The dim light of your shared bedroom cast a soft glow over the space, a warm and familiar heaven that usually lured you to sleep with ease. Tonight, however, sleep was elusive, chased away by the gentle but persistent voice of your boyfriend, Namjoon, who lay beside you, his head propped up on one hand as he gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling.
"Do you think the universe is infinite?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room. "And if it is, does that mean there are infinite versions of us, living out every possible scenario?"
You blinked sleepily, rolling over to face him, half-buried in the warmth of your comforter. "Nam," you mumbled, your voice thick with exhaustion, "it's 1 AM. Can we save the existential questions for the morning?"
He chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "I can't help it," he said, his tone apologetic but laced with curiosity. "Sometimes I just get caught up thinking about these things."
You sighed, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite your fatigue. This was a familiar routine—Namjoon’s mind was always active, always questioning, even in the late hours of the night when all you wanted was to drift off to sleep in his arms.
"Okay," you murmured, shifting closer to him, your body pressing against his side. "Let's say the universe is infinite. That would mean there are versions of us where you don't ask deep questions at 1 AM, and I actually get to sleep."
Namjoon laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter. He turned his head to look at you, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. "But where's the fun in that?" He teased, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
You couldn’t help but smile, your irritation melting away in the warmth of his gaze. Namjoon had a way of making even the most frustrating moments feel like something special. It was one of the many reasons you loved him.
Still, your body craved rest, and you couldn't resist a playful groan as you buried your face in his chest. "You're lucky I love you," you grumbled, your words muffled against his skin.
"I know," he replied softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "And I love you too, even when you're sleepy and grumpy."
You sighed contentedly, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a state of drowsy comfort. For a moment, it seemed like you might actually get some rest, but then Namjoon spoke again, his voice a hushed whisper in the quiet room.
"Do you ever wonder if we were meant to find each other?" He asked, his tone contemplative. "Like, out of all the people in the world, how did it end up being us?"
You lifted your head, peering up at him through half-lidded eyes. His expression was serious, his brow slightly furrowed as he stared at you, waiting for an answer. It was hard not to get caught up in the intensity of his gaze, the sincerity in his question.
"Maybe we were," you said softly, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "Or maybe it was just luck or coincidence. But either way, I'm glad we found each other."
He smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Me too," he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin. "I don't think I could ever imagine my life without you in it."
A warm flush spread through your chest at his words, a mix of affection and desire that stirred something deep within you. You tilted your head up, your lips seeking his in a slow, tender kiss that quickly deepened as Namjoon responded, his hand slipping to the small of your back to pull you closer.
The kiss was unhurried, a slow exploration of familiar territory that left you both breathless. When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.
"You're such a sap," you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, though the affection in your tone was unmistakable.
He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "You love it," he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
"I do," you admitted, your eyes locking with his, the air between you charged with an electric tension that made your skin tingle.
For a moment, neither of you moved, simply soaking in the closeness, the warmth of each other’s bodies. But then Namjoon shifted, rolling you onto your back as he hovered over you, his gaze darkening with desire.
"And I love you," he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, the promise of more lingering in the air.
Your breath hitched, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you pulled him down into another kiss, this one more urgent, more insistent. Namjoon responded in kind, his mouth moving against yours with a fervor that left you dizzy.
He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, his hands wandering over your body, mapping out every curve and dip with a reverence that made your heart race. You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair as he trailed kisses down your neck, his lips leaving a blazing trail of heat in their wake.
"Namjoon," you breathed, your voice laced with need, your body aching for more of him, more of his touch, his warmth.
He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating through you as his hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers skimming over your bare skin, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he slowly inched your shirt up, his lips following the path his hands had taken.
You could feel the weight of his gaze as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire, but there was something else there too—something tender, something that made your chest tighten with emotion.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, as if the words were too heavy to speak aloud.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, your heart swelling with affection for the man above you. "So are you," you murmured, your hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat, and then he was kissing you again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both passionate and tender, a perfect blend of love and desire.
The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in him, in the feel of his skin against yours, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
Your clothes were discarded in a flurry of movement, your bodies pressing together in a way that felt so right, so perfect, that it took your breath away. Namjoon’s hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of your body with a familiarity that only deepened the connection between you.
He moved slowly, deliberately, as if savouring every moment, every touch, every kiss. There was no rush, no urgency—just the two of you, lost in each other, in the warmth and comfort of your love.
When he finally entered you, it was with a tenderness that made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He moved with a slow, steady rhythm, his lips never straying far from yours, his hands cradling your face as if you were something precious, something to be cherished.
You felt the world tilt on its axis, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the sound of his breath in your ear, the way his body moved against yours with a grace and fluidity that left you gasping for air.
His eyes never leaving yours, his breath caressing your nose and mouth. His right hand caressed your body moving down to your ass, taking a large part of it to keep you even closer.
Your legs closed around his hips, wanting to keep it that way forever. He smiled feeling the pleasure run through his body. Letting out a shaky sigh he brought his hand to your clit where he agreed to take you with him to the end.
And when you finally reached the peak together, it was like nothing you had ever experienced before—a rush of warmth and light that seemed to flood every corner of your being, leaving you both trembling, breathless, and completely spent.
Namjoon collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both lay there, your bodies still entwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. The room was quiet now, the only sound the gentle hum of the night outside, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as you nestled against him.
"Do you still think about the universe?" You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you traced lazy circles on his chest.
Namjoon chuckled, the sound of a soft rumble in his chest. "Not right now," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Right now, all I can think about is how much I love you."
You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you, the man who always seemed to have a question, always seemed to be searching for answers, even in the quietest moments.
"I love you too," you whispered, your eyes drifting closed as the exhaustion finally caught up with you.
And as you drifted off to sleep in Namjoon’s arms, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the universe had a way of bringing the right people together at the right time, in the right place.
Maybe, you thought with a smile, you were meant to find each other after all.
being loved by Jimin was warm. like rays of sun on colder winter days, Jimin's love wrapped you in a blanket of pure passion, orange and red flames painting divine pictures in your heart; labyrinths of fire decorated your soul, every exit leading you to Jimin, always attracted by Jimin's sweet words and delicate touches.
entire days were spent in the comfort of Jimin's arms, the way he, so simply, took you to lands of euphoria and passion just with his words bathed in pure devotion; entire nights were spent with laughter and stories, so many warm memories creating a fire inside you that burned and burned and burned and bur—.
docile and patient was Jimin's love, something that took you back to your childhood, cherishing your inner child, promising a bright and passionate future to that baby of yours who wanted nothing more than to be understood, wanted nothing more than to be protected — and Jimin was there, patiently waiting in the middle of the chaos inside you, always ready to love you at every given opportunity.
↬┊TAEHYUNG
being loved by Taehyung was homely. it seemed natural, it seemed like something that came from past lives, it seemed like something from magical stories; feeling Taehyung's love was like being embraced by an eternal flame that warmed you from within and tucked you in for an eternity of pure devotion.
Taehyung's promises were delicate, drawn with the most beautiful lines of passion, painted with the strong tones of fascination; Taehyung's kisses were enchanting, gently pouring his desire into you, wetting your lips with pure veneration.
gentle and immortal was Taehyung's love, something so familiar that it could only be engraved in the ancient stars, written by the first gods, carved with all the dust of love's magic — and you never felt homeless, not when Taehyung loved you deeply.
↬┊JUNGKOOK
being loved by Jungkook was euphoric. like fireworks exploded inside you, colors and happiness danced in your heart every time Jungkook loved you; entire rivers of passion flowed inside you, flowing into an eternal sea of pure comfort and love every time Jungkook worshiped you.
fairs and carnivals made stops in your heart, each attraction being an extension of Jungkook's words, each stall selling all the comfort and fascination that Jungkook offered you so innocently; hand in hand with you, Jungkook went through every nook and cranny of your heart, collecting all your broken pieces and gluing them together with an eternal glue of pure love.
fascinating and inspiring was Jungkook's love, something capable of creating the most beautiful works of art that existed; of vibrant colors and precise cuts, of delicate symphonies and shy soliloquies, Jungkook's love had created a gallery inside you, exposing without any fear or shame all the love, all the devotion, all the fascination he felt for you.
The clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversation filled the air, a symphony of sound that perfectly matched the warm, inviting atmosphere of the cosy bar.
The scent of freshly grilled meats and the faint aroma of soju mingled in the air, creating a comforting and intoxicating blend.
Soft, warm light washed over the room, casting a gentle glow on the faces of the people gathered there.
You sat at a table with your large group of friends, a comfortable mix of laughter and camaraderie enveloping you.
Namjoon was finally back after three long months away, his business trip over, and everyone was here to catch up.
Your eyes scanned the table, landing on Namjoon. He was sitting across from you, his face lit up with a smile as he engaged in conversation with your friends.
Feeling your gaze, his eyes flicked towards yours, a small dimpled smile spreading across his face. You returned the smile, a flicker of something familiar passing between you.
Although your group was close, there was a secret between you and Namjoon, a secret that no one else knew.
A secret that had started with a drunken night and had turned into something more.
You had been friends for a long time, but that night, under the influence of alcohol, you had crossed a line simply because you both had been feeling needy.
Namjoon had made it clear from the beginning that he didn't want a relationship. It was purely fucking, a casual arrangement that suited both of you. Or so you thought.
As time went on, your feelings for him had grown. You had already fallen for his dimpled smile, his kindness, and the way you connected over deep conversations and shared interests. He was everything you wanted in a man. Sleeping with him only further cemented those feelings, causing you a lot of heartache.
You had felt stupid and foolish for putting yourself in such a vulnerable position.
So, when Namjoon had told you he was going away for work, it had been a relief—a much-needed break to get your head straight and put some distance between the intense emotions you had been wrestling with.
You had convinced yourself that the time apart would help you move on, to finally get over the complicated feelings that had grown between you.
While he was away, the two of you kept in touch through the occasional text message.
After all, you were still friends, and it felt natural to check in on each other. The conversations were friendly, casual—nothing too deep or revealing.
You made sure to keep it light, steering clear of any topics that might dredge up the more intimate aspects of your past arrangement.
They were polite check-ins, nothing more, which helped you maintain the distance you needed.
You had taken this opportunity to fully embrace the idea of moving on.
With Namjoon away, it felt like the perfect time to focus on yourself, to break free from the emotional rollercoaster you had been riding for far too long.
And so you joined a dating site. It felt like a fresh start, a chance to explore new possibilities and meet someone who could offer the kind of connection you were truly looking for.
At first, it was a bit nerve-wracking, scrolling through profiles, wondering if anyone could match up to the image of Namjoon that still lingered in your mind, but you had made progress.
Just as you were about to take a sip of your drink, something in your peripheral vision caught your attention. You did a quick double take, seeing a familiar face in the crowd. It was the guy you'd been on a few dates with recently.
A pang of surprise shot through you, quickly setting your drink down and made your way over to him. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "I didn’t know you came here!" you exclaimed, a smile spreading across your face.
He flashed you a bright smile. "Hey! I’m here waiting for some colleagues. What about you? Who are you with?"
You nodded toward the table behind you. "I’m here with some friends. Come say hi!"
As you led him over, Namjoon's expression darkened. He glanced sharply from Jung to you, clearly puzzled and annoyed at how close you seemed. Who the hell is this guy? he thought, his mind racing.
After the introductions were made, Hoseok couldn’t resist asking, "So, how do you two know each other?"
Jung’s smile grew even warmer as he glanced at you. "We’ve been on a few dates," he said, his eyes lingering on yours.
You shifted slightly, feeling the heat rise in your face as you avoided making eye contact with Namjoon.
Namjoon’s jaw tightened visibly, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
His body language spoke volumes—arms crossed tightly, shoulders rigid. The tension radiating off him was almost tangible.
He tried to maintain a neutral expression, but his clenched fists and the way his gaze fixed on you and Jung betrayed his inner turmoil.
A flicker of possessiveness stirred in Namjoon, surprising even him. He knew he had no right to feel this way, but the thought of you with another man was like a needle pricking at his chest, making him uncomfortable.
He swallowed hard, trying to push away the tightness that constricted his breathing.
“Oh, nice. So, are you two going to go out again?” Jimin asked, his curiosity evident in the playful smile on his face.
“Yeah, sure. I mean I would like to.... if Y/N wants to” Jung said, his gaze shifting back to you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
Namjoon’s mouth went dry. His stomach felt like it was twisting into knots as he waited for your response. What if she says yes?
The thought made him feel uneasy. His fingers drummed nervously against his thigh as he tried to steady his breath.
You nodded slowly, your voice soft and hesitant. “Yes,” you managed to say, though the word felt like it got stuck in your throat.
The sense of guilt, though irrational given your arrangement, settled heavily on your shoulders. You were acutely aware of Namjoon’s presence, the intensity of it making you squirm.
You certainly didn’t want Jung to know about your history with Namjoon. The last thing you needed was to complicate things further.
When you glanced back at Namjoon, you found him stone-faced, his jaw clenched tight. The rigidity in his posture was unmistakable. You frowned, silently questioning him, but he only looked away, sipping on his drink quietly.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you forced yourself to focus back on Jung, attempting to ignore the unsettling tension that lingered like a thick fog in the air.
You laughed along with your friends, trying to blend back into the cheerful atmosphere, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen.
A few minutes later, Jung’s colleagues arrived, and with a quick, friendly goodbye, he wandered off to join them.
You watched him go, grateful for the brief respite from the awkwardness. As you turned back to your friends, you realized Namjoon was gone.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you scanned the room, searching for him. Where did he go?
Just then, you caught sight of him slipping out through the main entrance. Without a second thought, you hurried after him, weaving through the crowd as you dashed toward the door.
The cold air bit at your cheeks as you stepped outside, your breath fogging in the night. The city lights, a blur of neon and yellow, reflected off the wet pavement.
You spotted Namjoon leaning against a wall, a cigarette burning between his fingers, his tall figure partially hidden in the shadows.
The streetlights cast eerie, elongated shadows that danced around him, adding to the sense of foreboding.
"Namjoon," you called softly, your voice almost a whisper against the backdrop of the bustling street.
He looked up at you, his eyes a bit glazed from the alcohol, the usual sparkle replaced by a dull haze. The cigarette smoke curled around his face, obscuring his features. "You okay?"
"I’m fine," he replied, but the clipped tone in his voice told a different story.
He lurched from the wall, his movements slightly unsteady, and stubbed the cigarette out before heading off down the street away from you.
You stood there, confusion knotting in your chest as you watched him start to walk away.
His sudden change in behaviour left you feeling adrift. Without a second thought, you hurried after him, your frustration simmering with every step.
"Joon! Wait. What’s going on?" you demanded when you finally caught up to him, grabbing his forearm. The tension radiated off him in waves. His jaw clenched tightly.
"Just leave me alone and go back to Jung," he replied in a monotone, the words cutting through the night air, each word cutting through the chilly night air like a blade. His voice was cold and distant, as if he were speaking to a stranger.
“What?!” Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of what he was saying, taking in his face.
“Are you jealous?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Your voice trembled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden outburst.
He whirled around to face you, his eyes blazing with a cocktail of emotions. “Jealous? Of him?!” he asked, incredulity dripping from his words. His voice was harsh, almost venomous.
“Well, why else would you say that? You’ve been in a mood ever since he sat with us,” you pointed out, your voice edged with frustration. You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest.
“I just don’t like him. You’re too good for him,” he spat out through clenched teeth, the words dripping with a mix of anger and something else—something you couldn’t quite place.
His eyes were filled with a strange intensity, a mix of possessiveness and protectiveness that you couldn’t quite understand.
Namjoon continued walking, breathing harshly.
“You don’t even know him!” you shot back, fists clenching as you struggled to keep up with his long strides.
A few drunken bystanders turned and looked at you, their curious eyes following your heated exchange.
Their laughter, muffled and distant, added to the tension in the air. You ignored them, focusing solely on Namjoon and the growing intensity of his anger.
“I don’t need to. I don’t want you seeing him,” he snapped over his shoulder, his voice sharp and possessive.
“Are you kidding me. Do you hear yourself?!” You let out a disbelieving snort, your eyes wide in shock at his audacity.
“Just because we fucked a few times doesn’t mean you can dictate who I can date! You’re just pissed because I’m not going to come running when you want some pussy” Your frustration was clear, each word punctuated with the sting of betrayal.
“Isn’t that what friends with benefits means? We agreed on the arrangement, didn’t we?” he shot back, his voice tinged with frustration as if you were the one breaking the rules.
You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and unforgiving in the cold night air. “Yeah, but that also means it ends when one of us starts dating!”
Namjoon’s pace slowed as he reached the entrance of his apartment, his voice dropping to a gritty, low growl. “Were you even going to tell me?” He stopped abruptly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours for an answer.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes, when the time was right. What about you? I could say the same for you, what about the women you were hooking up on your work trip.”
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his expression tightening with a mix of hurt and frustration. He looked almost insulted by your words, as if you’d just questioned his character. “That’s because there were none!” he snapped, his voice rougher than you expected.
You laughed again, this time with incredulity. "Are you serious? You, the most gorgeous man I know, who can command a room and have any woman he wants has nothing to tell? That you weren't getting pussy whenever you wanted?"
The irony of your so-called friends-with-benefits arrangement stung like salt in an open wound. It was almost absurd when you thought about it.
Here he was, this breathtakingly handsome man, someone who could have anyone he desired, and yet he had chosen you. Just you—average, unremarkable, nothing special. A friend.
It felt like some cruel joke, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had even bothered with you in the first place.
Namjoon’s expression shifted from anger to one of genuine surprise, his eyebrows shooting up as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. “You think I’m attractive?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
You let out a heavy sigh, the exasperation clear in every breath you took. It felt like a punchline to a joke that wasn’t funny.
“Are you seriously asking me that? It’s not the point. The point is you were gone for three months. Three whole months. Did you really think I was just going to sit around and wait for you like some pathetic puppy, waiting for your call?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but it quivered with the weight of your emotions.
"Yes, I know that’s what a friends-with-benefits arrangement is supposed to mean, but you’re not the only one who has a life. I have one too, you know.”
The weight of everything unsaid between you was too much, and you were already stepping back, the chilly night air biting at your skin.
Namjoon’s gaze followed you as you moved, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. His eyes, those deep eyes that usually commanded a room, were now clouded with confusion and something else—something you couldn’t quite place.
You were already turning on your heel, the weight of the conversation pressing down on your shoulders like a physical burden.
You took a few steps away from him, your breath coming out in sharp bursts, trying to create some distance between you and the emotional storm you were caught in.
But before you could get far, his voice cut through the night, low and possessive, the words sending a shiver down your spine.
"You’re mine."
The words stopped you in your tracks, your heart pounding in your chest.
You turned slowly, meeting his eyes. There was something desperate, almost primal, in the way he looked at you—like he was on the edge of losing something he couldn’t bear to let go of.
Your breath hitched, your mind racing to catch up with what he had just said.
The audacity of it, the sheer nerve, made your blood boil, but there was something else too—something in the way he said it that made your chest tighten, made your heart ache with a mixture of anger and something you didn’t want to name.
"What did you just say?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in your tone.
He stared at you, his eyes searching yours, the intensity between you growing thicker with each passing second. Finally, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
"You heard me" he said, his tone firm yet laced with something deeper, something raw. "I know we had an arrangement, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you being with someone else."
"Do you hear yourself?" you managed to croak out, the emotion clawing at your throat, threatening to spill over. “I'm not someone's property.”
The night air felt suffocating, and the ache in your chest grew sharper with every passing second.
You wanted so badly to be his, to be loved by him in the way you had always dreamed, but deep down, you knew he never wanted that with you. It had always felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you were a mere afterthought in his world.
“I know you're not,” He sighed heavily, a sound of pure exasperation escaping his lips as he looked up at you, his eyes clouded with a mix of regret and earnestness. His brows furrowed deeply, a stark contrast to his usually eloquent demeanour.
It was as if every carefully chosen word he normally wielded so effortlessly had suddenly betrayed him, slipping into clumsy, hurtful phrases.
He knew he should have been able to articulate his feelings with precision, but the weight of the situation left him grappling for the right words.
He stepped even closer, his body nearly brushing against yours. The proximity was suffocating, yet electrifying, his presence overwhelming your senses.
His thick, pillowy lips, so soft and inviting, hovered dangerously close to yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
The desire to close the gap between you was almost unbearable, but the confusion and frustration gnawing at your heart held you back.
“Why did you follow me here? Your boyfriend is still at the bar,” he added, his voice rough and accusatory, his words slicing through the fragile connection between you.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you shot back, your tone defensive, your heart racing with a mix of anger and confusion.
You could feel the tremor in your voice, the raw vulnerability that you were trying so hard to mask.
Namjoon’s eyes flared with a mixture of anger and something more tender, something that made your heart skip a beat. "No? Then I can do this."
His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body pressed so close that you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Your soft breasts pressed against his hard chest, creating an overwhelming sense of intimacy.
"Namjoon!" you gasped, your eyes widening in shock at the sudden proximity. His grip tightened, holding you in place, his gaze never wavering from yours.
The world around you seemed to blur, the sounds of the night fading into the background as the tension between you reached its peak.
His eyes softened, the anger melting away to reveal something more vulnerable, something that mirrored the longing you had tried so hard to suppress.
Before you could react, his lips, so full and soft, crashed against yours with a fierce urgency that took your breath away.
For a fleeting moment, you gave in to the kiss, feeling the familiar warmth of his lips flood your sense, tasting him. But as quickly as it began, reality snapped back into focus.
You placed your hands on his chest, the firmness of his muscles grounding you as you pushed him away with a mix of urgency and confusion.
The night air felt suffocating, each breath more laboured as your confusion and frustration swirled inside you.
“Why are you acting like this?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you searched his face for answers.
You couldn’t understand why he was being so possessive, so contradictory, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.
Namjoon’s expression shifted the moment he saw the tears threatening to spill over. The hard lines of his face softened, and his grip on you loosened just enough for you to feel the change in his demeanour.
He would never want to hurt you, that much was clear, and seeing you in pain seemed to break something inside him.
“I love you, Y/N”
The words hung in the air between you, his confession cutting through all the confusion and anger, leaving you breathless and completely stunned.
Time seemed to freeze as you stared up at him, searching his eyes for any hint that this was just an emotional outburst.
“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “This is just a reaction to seeing me with someone else.”
The hurt that crossed his face was unmistakable, a sharp, raw edge that made your heart twist in your chest.
“Is that how low you think of me?” he asked, his voice thick with disbelief, his brows furrowing as he stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe you would think that of him. "You know me more than anyone!"
“I didn’t mean it like that. But we knew this would end eventually. you stammered, your eyes dropping to the ground as shame flooded your cheeks. “But we knew this would end eventually. That’s what friends with benefits means. You never wanted a relationship… and… I-I did.”
The words tasted bitter on your tongue, each one a painful reminder of the boundaries you had tried so hard to respect, the unspoken rules you had forced yourself to follow.
You dared to glance up, just for a moment, only to find Namjoon’s expression unreadable. His jaw was clenched, the muscle there twitching slightly as he processed your admission.
Suddenly, his hand was under your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, the raw emotion there sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushed softly across your skin, wiping away a tear that had slipped free.
"I love you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and unsteady, yet filled with an undeniable sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. "I’m in love with you. You’re the only person I want."
The confession hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you reeling.
You couldn’t respond, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his words, the weight of the emotions that had been hidden for so long. It felt like the ground had shifted beneath you, the world tilting on its axis as you tried to make sense of everything.
Tears welled up in your eyes again, spilling over as you spoke, your voice choked with sobs. “If that were true, you would have said something sooner," you cried, the pain in your voice cutting through the air.
"You wouldn’t have left me confused and hurt, wondering what I meant to you. It’s my fault—I should have never agreed to this when I knew how I felt. I was selfish because it was the only way I could have you.”
Your breath hitched as the tears came harder, your chest heaving with the effort to hold yourself together. "And now… now you’re just jealous because I can get another guy," you added, the words bitter and sharp on your tongue.
Namjoon’s face softened at your words, the anger and frustration melting away, replaced by a gentleness that was almost shocking given the situation.
He took a step closer, his gaze locked on yours, a tenderness in his eyes that made your heart ache.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was afraid… afraid of ruining what we had, afraid of losing you if I asked for more. But I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else, Y/N. I can’t pretend anymore.”
You stared at him, your mind racing, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that had erupted between you. His hand, still holding your chin, was warm and steady, grounding you in the moment.
The desperation in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes—it was all too much, too overwhelming. "But why...why would you love me? I'm just average." your voice wavers.
“Do you see yourself?” he asked, his tone almost incredulous. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Perfect. Perfect for me.” His gaze softened further, and he took a deep breath, his frustration melting into something more tender and vulnerable.
“The way you find positivity in every situation… How supportive you are of my dreams. It’s like you see me in a way no one else does.”
He paused, reaching up to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. “I love how your face lights up when you talk about your hobbies and passions. I could listen to you for hours and never tire of it. And it’s not just that,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, “it’s how you care for people so deeply. How you make me want to be a better person.”
You looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch grounding and warm.
The intensity of his gaze seemed to hold all the things he had never said before, all the things you had hoped he felt but never truly knew.
“You’re everything to me, Y/N. Please don’t doubt that. Please don’t think you’re just average. Because to me, you’re extraordinary.”
“I…” you started, but the words faltered as your throat tightened with emotion.
“Do you love me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
You frowned, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice.
Every part of you was screaming for release, for the truth you had kept buried for so long.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you took a slow, shuddering breath and nodded.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost pleading.
“I-I love you too” you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a confession, both freeing and terrifying all at once.
The moment the words left your mouth, Namjoon’s expression shifted—something fierce and determined flashing in his eyes.
Without another word, he grabbed your hand, his grip firm and unyielding, and pulled you towards the door of his apartment.
The world blurred around you as he slammed the door shut behind you, the sound reverberating through the walls.
Before you could even register what was happening, he was on you, pushing you up against the wall, his body pressing hard against yours.
His lips crashed onto yours, the kiss searing and desperate, as if trying to make up for all the lost time, all the words that had gone unsaid.
Your breath caught in your throat as you kissed him back, the intensity of the moment consuming you.
His hands roamed over your body, holding you close, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness.
Every inch of you was hyperaware of him—his warmth, his strength, the way his heart pounded against yours as he deepened the kiss.
His hand tangled into your hair, and a low, frustrated groan rumbled in the back of his throat. He pressed himself closer to you, seeking the friction that had been building between you.
His hard erection pressed insistently against his zipper. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you” he groans.
Clothes are quickly strewn across the floor, not even making it to the bedroom. Each article of clothing falls in a haphazard trail, creating a disarray of fabric that maps out the urgency and desperation of the moment.
Namjoon’s hands are restless, fumbling with the buttons of your jeans as if he’s afraid that if he doesn’t act quickly, this moment will slip away. His touch is feverish and hungry.
Bending down he picks you up his strong biceps bulging, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, arms around his neck. Your back is pressed against the cold hard wall, a complete contrast to how hot your body feels.
He rests his forehead against yours and he watches himself rub the tip of his hard swollen cock through your wetness.
Too eager to be inside you, too impatient to take it slow, as if reading his mind, your breathy voice next to his ear begs him "Please, Joon...I've missed you, I need you inside me!"
He groans "Shit....if you say things like that, I'm gonna cum too soon" you giggle, kissing his neck and jaw, slowly nibbling on his ear.
"Please....Joonie, fuck me" you whine.
"What my girl wants, she gets" he grunts, slowly lubricates his cock in your juices, rubbing back and forth he rubs his tip, before letting it catch in your entrance, and pushing his hips forward, letting himself sink into you.
His eyebrows furrowed, watching for any signs of discomfort. You bite your lip, as you try to accommodate him.
“Good girl, you’re taking me so well” he whispers above your lips, his voice strained as he tries to control himself, pushing into inch by inch.
You both cry out as his big cock slowly stretches your pussy open, the delicious burn, quickly giving way to pleasure when you feel him deeply lodged inside you. “oh fuck!”
“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
You nod a little. “You can move”
Your head lolls back against the wall as he slowly fucks into you, getting you accustomed to his length again. It feels so fucking good.
“"You are taking me so well. Fuck!” He groans, spreading your thighs wider his lips travelled down to the sensitive spot on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, demanding kisses that made your toes curl.
Each touch ignited a fire within you, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath mixed with the intensity of his kisses.
He angles his hips, rolling them up as the tip rubs against your spongy wall inside. He moves slowly, his rhythm steady and powerful.
“Ugh!” You cry out, nails digging into his back as you cling on to him tightly.
He kisses you roughly". Who´s making you feel this good?"
“Mmmm. You are! Please. I’m going to cum!” Your eyes flutter shut, as you focus on the pleasure.
Heat prickles across your chest as you begin to feel the first tingles of your orgasm approaching.
“Fuck! Joon! Please. I’m going to cum!” You squeeze your eyes shut, as you focus on the pleasure.
“Open your eyes Y/N. Let me watch that pretty face of yours when you cum on my cock” he slams into you again with a growl, your eyes flash open, staring in to his intense gaze. "
Your pussy contracts around him, he can feel how aroused you are. Slick coating his pelvis.
Your eyes focus on his, your stomach muscles clench, suddenly you take in a harsh breath as the pleasure washes over you, thighs trembling.
So perfect" he murmurs, kissing you deeply swallowing your moans.
He begins to pick up speed, thrusting over and over into your swollen pussy, chasing his own high. The pleasure builds, fingers digging into your ass cheeks as he holds you tightly.
A guttural moan leaves his lips, he moans your name against your ear and you feel his thrusts becoming sloppier, and uneven, the pleasure crashing over him in waves.
He finally comes to a halt, his breath coming in ragged gasps, sweat glistening along his chest and face. He leans down, pressing his lips gently to your forehead, to your cheek and then gently on your mouth.
a/n: i hope i did this right for you? I lost the original screenshot and im so scared this is all wrong <3 I did try my hardest with it so I hope it comes across that way. This was for the "american" yoongi song request.
You were a talented dancer on BTS's American tour, every time they came to the US you were on the team first of who they wanted on stage. It was something that made you tingle every time you got the call that you were asked to come back for them. After working with them for the first year you'd gotten pretty close with Jimin and Hoseok. You figured it was because the three of you were naturally born dancers but there was nothing more there than friendship between you.
However, what you didn't realize was that over the years of working closely with each of the boys, Yoongi was harbouring a crush on you and it was getting closer and closer to the end of the tour and he could feel his chance with you slipping away before his very eyes.
Yoongi had sat quietly in the back of the rehearsal studio, watching as you and Jimin executed your routine with synchronized grace. The two of you had been working on the routine for filter which only made Yoongi feel a little more jealous at the thought of Jimin having his hands all over you.
You were dazzling under the dim lights, every move captivating him in ways he couldn’t explain, his heart raced with every move of your body, his palms sweaty as he imagined himself being the one to dance with you instead of Jimin. He sighed deeply, realizing he had it bad and that there was no way out of this for him, not without confessing at least. But how could he even do that?
There was the chance you'd shoot him down or even laugh in his face and then you'd never want to work with them again. He wasn't going to risk you losing the gig you loved because he found himself falling for you.
"You should say something," Hoseok whispered as he dropped down beside Yoongi, Yoongi quickly tore his gaze away from you and acted as though he had no idea what Hoseok was talking about.
"We all see it, Hyung," Hoseok smirked, Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the younger man and shook his head trying to play dumb.
"See what?" He mumbled a little as you finished your routine with Jimin and he cursed himself for not watching you smile at the end. Your smile at the end of every dance was the largest and he'd give anything to see it every single second of the day if he could. There was something about it that just made his heart race and his skin clammy.
"The way You watch her," Hoseok was at least trying to keep his voice down since there was a chance you'd be able to hear him if you were close enough.
"You make me sound like a freak," Yoongi grumbles, running his hands through his hair. Did he really watch you that much? Did you even notice him the way that he noticed you?
God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever gotten like this over a girl but it must have been when he was in school.
"No, but we all notice the way you watch her. How you're always there in case she's coming to practice. You didn't even have to be here today," Hoseok chuckled softly and Yoongi felt his skin heating up. It was true, he didn't need to be here for today's practice but he'd thrown in the excuse that he wanted to come for one practice before tomorrow.
"I'll see you guys tomorrow for stage practice," You called out, throwing the boys a giant smile, you glanced in Yoongi's direction and waved. Your smile shifted from the bright one you'd given the rest of the boys to a small shy one for Yoongi and he felt his skin heating up more as he waved goodbye.
Jimin, ever perceptive, noticed and rushed straight over to Yoongi and smirked at him.
"Don't-"
"You’ve been staring at Y/N a lot lately, hyung," Jimin said as he looked at him, Yoongi's cheeks were now a bright red colour as he shook his head,
"I was just telling him this," Hoseok laughs softly, earning a glare from Yoongi,
"What? No, I was just… watching the choreography." Jimin laughed, taking a seat beside him as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and shook his head.
"You’ve been watching her more than the choreography." Yoongi paused, knowing Jimin wasn’t wrong and that he'd been caught by not just Hoseok but by Jimin as well. He had developed feelings for you over the past few months, and it had become harder to keep them to himself. Harder to stop himself from watching you or being near you when his body cried out to be close to you every single second of the day,
"Okay, maybe I have a bit of a crush," Yoongi muttered to them both before they exchanged grins,
"A bit? Hyung, you barely even watch our rehearsals anymore unless she's involved." Jimin laughed softly at him, earning an eye roll from Yoongi but a small smile tugged on his lips.
"I don’t know what to do about it though. She’s close to you and Hoseok, and I don’t want to mess anything up. What if I ask her out and she never works with us again? I don't want to take her dream away from her..." He trailed off as the boys looked at him.
Jimin looks at him. It was something that he worried about as well knowing his friend had a crush on someone they worked so closely with but if he didn't try he wouldn't know.
"You like her a lot, right?" He asked as Yoongi nodded his head. He might even love you but he wasn't going to say that to anybody else just yet.
"Y/N’s great, and honestly, I think you should just go for it. Why don’t you invite her to be part of the team permanently? Keep her on tour...See where things could go from there." Jimin shrugged. It wasn't completely unheard of, people had been asked to follow them on tour before.
"As a dancer, you mean?" Yoongi looked at him and Jimin smirked,
"Well, maybe more than just that." Jimin nudged him a little.
"But invite her...See what she says and see what happens along the way?" Hoseok told him this time making Yoongi bite his lip as he considered it.
He knew that being with you would require more than just asking you to stay and go on another tour with them. The two of you came from different worlds—different cultures, and he wasn’t sure if you would even be interested in being with someone like him in the long run but it was always worth a shot. Right?
After the show the next night Yoongi ran over to you, he was already high from his adrenaline rush from the stage and he didn't want to lose the courage he found himself swimming in right now.
"Y/N, can we talk for a minute?" You looked up, surprised but curious, it wasn't like Yoongi to seek you out on his own after a show. Usually, he would drag one of the others along with him, or so you'd noticed. You nodded at him as you drank from your water bottle trying to catch your breath from the dance you'd just finished.
"Sure, what’s up?" Yoongi hesitated for a moment, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. The adrenaline he'd just had was now gone as he stared at you, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't used to being so vulnerable, but something about you made him want to take the leap.
"I was wondering… once this leg of the tour is over, would you consider staying on with us? I mean, joining us for the rest of the tour? I-In Korea and everywhere...else" You blinked, clearly surprised by the offer. You'd always loved the idea of travelling the world and getting to do what you loved while you did it,
"You mean as a dancer? Wow, I’d love that. But… why are you asking me personally? I thought Jimin or the managers would handle that kind of thing." Yoongi cleared his throat as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling more anxious than he was before.
"It’s not just about dance. I want you to stay… because I like you. More than just as part of the team." The silence that followed made his heart race, did he freak you out? What if you just started to laugh in his face? You were quiet, processing his words as you stared at him.
The truth was, you'd had a crush on Yoongi for the longest time as well but you'd seen first-hand what this life did to people and how people in your position handled relationships. It wasn't something that could easily happen.
"Yoongi… I didn’t see this coming, honestly. You’ve always been so quiet around me. But there’s something you should know." You didn't want him to feel alone in the way he felt but you also didn't want him to think you were just going to rush into something with him. Things like these take time. He looked at you, his brow furrowed with concern.
"I like you too, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. We’re from such different cultures, and that could be tricky. I’ve seen what being in the spotlight does to relationships, and with you going to the military soon…" You trailed off a little. You knew as soon as this tour was finished he was going to be gone for two years. Yoongi’s heart sank at the mention of his upcoming enlistment, but he nodded, understanding your hesitation.
"I get it. You’re right. But I still want to try...If you're willing to..." You felt your heart melt at how unsure he seemed and you smiled softly, your expression full of warmth. You stepped closer to him, your hand brushing his.
"How about this—we give it time? I join you guys on tour...We hang out more, get to know each other and Once you finish your military service, we can see where we’re both at. I don’t want to rush anything and risk hurting you or myself." Yoongi felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t a rejection, but rather a promise of something more when the time was right.
"That sounds… fair. But I’ll hold you to that, Y/N." You smirk at him as you nod your head.
"Have management talk with my manager and I'll join you on tour...But I mean it, it's just hanging out...just friends for now. Okay?" You gave Yoongi a pointed look as he blushed a little more, nodding his head before practically racing to tell the boys the good news.
The rest of the tour continued smoothly, and your connection to one another only grew stronger. The two of you found each other spending almost every single night together, even on the nights Yoongi was working you'd found yourself in his hotel room while he worked on his laptop and you relaxed on the sofa. Talking all night long. Going out to dinner every now and again.
The two of you claimed it was hanging out as friends but anyone could see it was much more than that. The closeness you shared was hard to deny. he laughed at all your jokes, you laughed at all of his. He made you feel as though you were the only woman in the whole world and you were pretty sure if he kept it up you were going to fall more in love with him than you already were.
Because you knew that's what you were. In love. But you weren't ready to admit it to him just yet, not when you knew he was going to be leaving for two years with hardly any contact with you. Though, he had promised you he was going to be writing you letters once a month so he could keep you up to date on everything he was going to be doing.
"I’m going to miss this—the adrenaline, the excitement of the stage. But I think I’ll miss you more." You admitted on the last night. The two of you were sitting in his hotel room having the biggest burger you could order off of the room service menu. In Yoongi's words, he told you to "go big or go home" deciding he wanted to spend his last night having trashy food, trashy movies and being close to you,
"I’ll miss you too. But knowing you’ll be here when I get back… it makes it easier." His hand reached out to touch yours and you felt your heart racing at the same time as it breaking.
You hadn't expected to fall so hard and so quickly for him and yet now you found yourself wanting to keep him close to you.
"You promise you'll write?" You hated that you sounded so vulnerable as you asked him this. He didn't owe you anything, hell, he could just forget all about you while he was away if he wanted to but you craved his connection with you.
"I promise, Yn." He whispered, hearing how unsure you sounded. His fingers ran along your knuckles softly as the soft tapping on the door let you know your ride was there.
"I have to go," You look at him as you bite your lip a little. All day you'd been debating with yourself about if you should kiss him or not but you were through waiting.
You leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, your heart practically leaping into his hands and waiting for him to accept it. It was sweet, tender, and full of promise.
"I’ll be waiting for you, Min Yoongi. And when you come back, I expect another one of these." You whispered against his lips, your foreheads resting against one another as the tapping on the door grew louder, signalling the other person's impatience for you. Yoongi chuckled softly, his heart full despite the bittersweet goodbye looming over them.
"Deal." He whispers as you slowly get up, dragging your bags to the door and giving him a sad wave goodbye.
It had been 21 months. Almost 639 days since Yoongi had been in service and as promised he had written you a letter once a month and had sent you a package on your birthday. Though you had done the same for him, sending him his favourite snacks from your village so he could get a taste of you while he was away. But today was the day.
You were finally going to see each other after being away and you couldn't decide if you were anxious about seeing him again or if you were so excited your body took it as a sign of anxiety.
The air was chilly despite the warmth of the early spring afternoon. The crowd outside the base was thick with families, friends, and loved ones, all eagerly awaiting the return of their soldiers. You stood among them, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shallow bursts as your eyes scanned the sea of faces.
The anticipation was almost unbearable—two long years had passed since you had seen Yoongi in person, and now, in this very moment, he was somewhere among the crowd.
But you couldn’t find him.
You moved through the crowd, your chest constricting with every second that passed. What if you missed him? What if he had left before you could even catch a glimpse? Anxiety crept in, and you felt the weight of the past two years settle heavily on your shoulders. You'd promised yourself that you were going to be patient, that this moment would be worth the wait, but the fear of not seeing him right away gnawed at you.
You pushed your way through more people, your hands trembling slightly as you clutched the edges of your jacket, well, his jacket. He'd sent you one so you could wear it and smell him, be close to him kind of. You could feel tears threatening to spill over as you continued to look through the crowd unable to find the man you loved.
Just when you were about to give up hope, you heard a familiar voice—low, smooth, and full of warmth.
"Looking for someone?" You whipped around, your breath catching in your throat. There he was. Standing just a few feet away, dressed in his military uniform, looking a little older, a little sharper, but still unmistakably him. You drank in his appearance, unable to get enough of him as you whimpered a little.
Yoongi’s eyes softened when they met yours, and in that moment, the world around them seemed to blur into nothing. This was everything he'd been dreaming about for the last few months of his service, and nothing could have prepared him for it. You felt the tears welling up again, but this time they weren’t from anxiety—they were from sheer relief and joy.
"You… I couldn’t find you. I thought—" You choked out a laugh but before you could finish your sentence, Yoongi closed the distance between them in just a few steps. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, pulling you into a tight embrace. You let out a small gasp as he spun you around, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. All you could focus on was the feeling of Yoongi’s arms around your body, solid and real. When he set you down gently, he didn’t let you go. Instead, he tilted his head down, his eyes gleaming with the warmth you had missed so much.
"I told you I’d return that kiss." But before you could respond, he kissed you deeply, his lips soft but firm against yours. The kiss was nothing like the sweet, tentative one you had shared before he left. This one was filled with the weight of two years’ worth of longing, of promises kept and the joy of being together again.
You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he held you close, the kiss lasting long enough to make you dizzy but in the best possible way. When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.
"You did. And it was worth the wait." You giggled a little as he linked his hand with yours, refusing to let you go for even a second, the two of you had been apart for two years, there was no way he was letting you go anytime soon.
"Would it make you feel better if I told you I got a visa for six months," You smirked at him and Yoongi's eyes practically bulged out of his head at you.
"Six months?" He was already trying to think of everything he could fit into those six months with you. He had some time off now he was out of his service but he wasn't exactly sure how long that was going to be. Almost as if you could see the clogs turning in his mind you smirk at him,
"It gives me time with you, I do have a job to do while I'm here though, I'm hoping my contract will be renewed at the end of the six months though." You smirk at him as he looked at you,
"Oh?" A giant grin began to form on his face at the thought of keeping you longer than he had planned.
"I'm dancing with le Sserafim," By now his heart was racing as he realised just how close the two of you were going to be working together and he kissed you deeply, groaning against you as you giggled against his lips.
Summary : You and Taehyung have been good friends for a while, until you went and stupidly caught feelings for him.
Rating : Mature, definitely smutty, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, angst, might have missed something. Its quite long, and I don't mean the Kim Trousersnake.
You'd always been one of the boys, a constant in their boisterous camaraderie. But when Taehyung joined your group, something shifted.
His towering height cast long shadows that seemed to swallow you whole, his laughter a melody that seemed to echo through your soul.
His smile, a dazzling, sun-like affair, lit up the room and your heart in equal measure.
You found yourself drawn to him, your heart fluttering like a trapped bird whenever he glanced your way. His easy-going charm and infectious laughter made you feel at ease, a sense of comfort you'd never experienced before.
Yet, the realization that your feelings were misplaced was a heavy weight on your chest.
After all, you were just friends.
One day, as you were hanging out at the park, Taehyung playfully ruffled your hair, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of your skull.
You laughed, a sound that was both light and tinged with a hint of nervousness. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and for a moment, you thought you saw something else in them.
A hint of something more. But before you could decipher the meaning, he turned away, his attention drawn to something else.
Your heart sank. You knew you were being foolish. Taehyung was probably oblivious to your feelings, and you were just imagining things. But as you watched him interact with the others, a pang of jealousy shot through you.
The way he'd laugh at their jokes, the way he'd offer a comforting hand on their shoulders—it all felt so natural, so effortless. You couldn't help but wonder if he ever felt that way about you.
Knowing this was getting out of hand, you felt a wave of panic wash over you, a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach.
You had to keep your distance, save face, and give yourself time to get over him.
But being away from him hurt more than you ever thought it would.
The ache in your chest was a constant companion, a dull throb that intensified whenever you thought of him.
Your mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each one more painful than the last. You imagined him with someone else, laughing and smiling, and a wave of jealousy washed over you.
Even after a few weeks of failed attempts at dating, nothing had worked for your one-sided crush, causing you more frustration.
It wasn't Taehyung's fault that you were crushing over him, and he would have been upset to know that you were hurt whenever he flirted with another woman.
Angry at yourself, you completely shut down, acting coldly towards him. You felt a pang of guilt as you watched his bewilderment, his confusion at your sudden change in behaviour.
Taehyung, ever the caring person, tried to get you to talk to him, but his attempts were met with indifference. Eventually, he became fed up and stopped trying.
The distance between you grew palpable, a chasm that seemed to widen with each passing day.
You missed the easy banter, the shared laughter, the comfort of his presence. But you knew that you had to keep your distance, for your own sake.
You tried to distract yourself with other things, but nothing seemed to work. You found yourself replaying old memories, reliving moments of happiness that now felt like distant dreams.
The longing in your heart grew stronger with each passing day, a constant ache that threatened to consume you.
Taehyung, growing increasingly frustrated with your silence, tried to reach out to you. He sent you messages, called your phone, and even left notes on your door.
But you ignored him all, your heart hardened against him. His persistence eventually turned to anger, a bitter resentment that replaced his initial concern.
He couldn't understand why you were treating him this way, especially when he had done nothing wrong.
Jimin had begged you to come to Hoseok's birthday party, his persistence a testament to his friendship.
Not wanting to let him down, you'd reluctantly agreed, knowing full well that it would mean facing Taehyung, after all he lived with Hoseok.
The anticipation had been a heavy weight on your chest for days. Knowing you would be seeing him, you couldn't help but get dolled up, desperate to be seen as a woman rather than one of the boys.
You'd spent hours in front of the mirror, experimenting with different outfits and makeup looks. Finally, you'd settled on a black knee-length dress that showed off your figure, paired with a delicate necklace and matching earrings.
As you applied the final touches to your makeup, a sense of unease crept into your heart. What if he didn't notice you? What if he didn't care? The thought of being ignored filled you with a mix of sadness and anger.
Strapping on some heels, you looked in the mirror, feeling somewhat pleased with your appearance.
As you stepped into the apartment Hoseok and Taehyung shared, you felt a wave of dread wash over you.
The familiar scent of pizza boxes and old books wafted through the air, a bittersweet reminder of simpler times.
This was the last place you wanted to be, yet here you were, drawn in by a combination of guilt and a faint hope that something might change.
As you entered the room, a wave of noise and excitement washed over you. Your friends erupted into cheers and wolf whistles, their enthusiasm infectious.
You giggled, a blush settling on your cheeks, your heart racing in your chest.
Your eyes automatically searched out Taehyung, who only spared a brief glance in your direction. When his eyes met yours, your stomach did a little dance.
But his gaze was fleeting, his attention quickly returning to the woman sitting next to him.
A pang of jealousy shot through you, a sharp pain that pierced your chest. You watched them interact, his laughter echoing through the room, her eyes sparkling with admiration as her hand touched his leg.
It was a scene you'd witnessed countless times before, a reminder of your place in his life. A scoff escaped your lips, a bitter sound that echoed in your ears. Of course Taehyung would spend time talking to her.
You couldn't help but compare yourself to her, feeling inadequate and out of place. She was everything you weren't: beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming.
You were just an average girl, a familiar face in the crowd. The doubt that you would never be enough for him gnawed at your self-esteem, a constant reminder of your shortcomings.
Jimin sauntered over, a drink in hand, his eyes flickering with concern. He handed it to you, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
You accepted it with a tight-lipped smile, but as soon as the glass touched your lips, a sharp bitterness settled on your tongue.
Your face contorted slightly, a sour expression that you tried to hide before you tilted your head back, swallowing the drink in one go. The burn in your throat was both a comfort and a curse.
“Y/N, sweetheart, slow down,” Jimin’s voice is soft, almost pleading, as he gently takes the glass from your grip, his fingers brushing against yours. “We’ve got all night. There’s no rush.”
You sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on your chest like a heavy stone. “Sorry, Jimin,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “It’s just been a rough day. Got anything stronger? Like whiskey?”
His eyebrows shoot up, surprise flashing across his face. “Whiskey? Y/N, what happened today?” His voice is a mix of curiosity and concern. He hesitates for a moment before nodding toward the kitchen. “Come on, let’s see what we’ve got.”
Following him into the kitchen, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety gnawing at your insides. Jimin rummages through the cupboard, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and holding it up with a small, worried smile.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, studying your face closely as he hands you the bottle.
You nod, your hands trembling slightly as you pour a generous amount into the glass. The clink of ice cubes echoes in the quiet kitchen as you drop them in one by one.
You can feel Jimin’s eyes on you, watching every move, every slight tremor in your hands. You lift the glass to your lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip, letting the warmth spread through your body.
The burn is intense, but it dulls the edge of your anxiety, if only for a moment.
Jimin’s eyebrows knit together as he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s going on, Y/N?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “You haven’t been yourself for a while now,” he says, his voice low and filled with concern.
“You’ve been distancing yourself from everyone. We’ve all noticed it especially Taehyung”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. Closing your eyes, you try to push the tears back, but his words linger in your mind, heavy and suffocating. Here we go again.
Opening your eyes slowly, you meet his gaze, his face a picture of genuine worry. “I’m fine, Jimin,” you lie, the words feeling hollow and empty. “Don’t worry about me.” You force a smile, but it’s brittle, cracking at the edges.
He doesn’t buy it. Not for a second. “Do you have feelings for Taehyung?” The question hangs in the air, unexpected and heavy, and you feel your heart skip a beat, your breath catching in your throat.
You nearly choke on your drink, quickly lowering the glass as you sputter, “N-no! Why would you think that?” Your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and panic, and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.
Instead, you focus on a random spot behind his head, anything to avoid the truth in his gaze.
Jimin lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “Liar,” he murmurs, his tone gentle but firm. “Your mouth says one thing, but your eyes… they tell a different story.”
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve seen how you look at him, how you’ve been pulling away. You’ve turned into this… Ice Queen. Y/N, you’ve shut everyone out, and it’s hurting you. You can’t keep doing this. You need to talk to him.”
“I can’t.” The words come out in a broken whisper, your voice trembling as a tear slips down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away, but Jimin sees it. Of course, he does. “I… I just can’t.”
Jimin’s hand reaches out, squeezing your shoulder with a gentleness that makes your heart ache even more. “You need to tell him, Y/N. Keeping it all inside… it’s only hurting you more.”
You shake your head, the very thought filling you with dread. “No, Jimin. There’s no point. He doesn’t see me that way. He never will. I can’t bear the thought of him looking at me with pity. I’d rather keep pretending, keep this wall up, than face that kind of rejection. It’s better like this. I’ll be fine. I just… need to get over it.”
Jimin’s eyes soften, but there’s a frustrated edge to his voice as he speaks again. “You’re being so stupid, Y/N. You’re torturing yourself for no reason. It’s so obvious to everyone except you two.” He lets out a bitter laugh, taking a sip of his own drink, his eyes never leaving your face.
"What do you—?" you begin, but the sound of approaching footsteps stops you cold. The air seems to thicken as Taehyung walks in, his tall frame filling the doorway.
The moment he sees you, a flicker of surprise crosses his face, and his eyes shift between you and Jimin, lingering a little too long on you.
"What are you guys up to?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. His gaze falls to the bottle of whiskey in front of you, and his brows knit together in confusion.
"Is that whiskey?" His voice drops slightly, the surprise clear—he knows you only drink it when things are really bad.
“Yeah,” Jimin replies smoothly, his tone light despite the tension that’s suddenly crackling in the room.
“Y/N's having a rough day… I need to speak to Yoongi about something. Maybe you can cheer her up,” he suggests, flashing Taehyung a quick smile before heading for the door.
Your heart lurches. Panic grips you as you turn to Jimin, silently pleading for him to stay, to not leave you alone in this unbearable moment. But he just smirks at you, a knowing glint in his eyes, as he steps out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with Taehyung.
The moment the door clicks shut, the atmosphere shifts. You can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, intense and unyielding, as if he’s trying to read the turmoil inside you.
Your heart pounds in your chest, the sound almost deafening in your ears. You drop your gaze to the drink in your hand, your fingers gripping the glass so tightly your knuckles turn white.
The ice cubes clink against the glass, a stark contrast to the silence that’s settled between you two.
'Please, just leave' you silently beg, your mind racing, every nerve in your body on edge. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, and you can feel the weight of his presence, the heat radiating from his body.
Taehyung’s frown deepens, his expression a mix of concern and something else—something you can’t quite place. He moves closer, his movements slow, cautious, as if he’s afraid you might shatter if he gets too close.
Then, without saying a word, he pulls out the chair Jimin had vacated and sits down beside you.
The proximity is overwhelming; the scent of his cologne—fresh and woodsy—fills your senses, stirring memories that you’ve tried so hard to bury.
You take a shaky sip of your drink, trying to steady your trembling hands, but the liquid feels like lead sliding down your throat, doing nothing to soothe the turmoil inside you.
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, every second that passes amplifying the tension. Taehyung’s gaze never wavers, his eyes boring into you, searching for answers you’re not ready to give.
His jaw is set, the muscles in his neck tight, and you can see the frustration building in his eyes, though he’s trying to hide it.
Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice low and laced with concern.
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw vulnerability in his voice almost breaking through the walls you’ve built around yourself.
But you can’t. You can’t let him in, can’t let yourself be that exposed. You remain silent, your lips pressed into a thin line, afraid that if you speak, everything will come tumbling out.
Come on, Y/N, say something, anything. But you can’t. The fear is too great. The fear of rejection, of seeing pity in his eyes, keeps your mouth sealed shut.
Suddenly, Taehyung moves. His large hands grab the back of your chair, and with a quick, forceful motion, he swivels it around to face him.
The suddenness of it startles you, and a bit of your drink splashes onto your chest, the cold liquid soaking into your shirt.
You gasp, your eyes widening as you look up at him, heart pounding against your ribs.
He’s close—so close you can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the worry etched in the lines of his forehead, the tension in his clenched jaw.
His face is just inches from yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body, can hear the slight hitch in his breath as he looks at you with a mixture of frustration and something deeper—something that makes your stomach flip.
"Why are you having a bad day?" Taehyung’s voice is soft but insistent, his tone laced with genuine concern. He leans back in his seat, legs spread wide in that effortlessly confident way he always does.
Your eyes betray you for a split second, roving over his posture before you quickly snap them away, mentally scolding yourself. Control yourself, Y/N.
The alcohol starts to work its way through your system, spreading warmth through your veins.
The edges of your anxiety begin to blur as the buzz takes hold, dulling the sharpness of your thoughts. But even as it soothes, it doesn’t quiet the storm inside you.
"It doesn't matter. I'll be fine," you reply, trying to brush him off, your voice betraying a weariness that you can’t quite hide.
You run your index finger around the rim of your glass, the motion almost hypnotic, and you notice Taehyung’s eyes following the movement.
He sighs, the sound heavy with frustration and something deeper that you can’t quite name.
“Do you hate me?” he asks quietly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. There’s an edge to his words, a vulnerability that catches you off guard. It makes you look up at him in surprise, your heart skipping a beat.
“I don’t hate you,” you murmur, your voice unsteady as you swallow, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance. You look away again, your gaze falling to the glass in your hand.
The weight of his question lingers, hanging in the air between you. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know how to explain the tangled mess of emotions inside you.
All you know is how much you hate the distance that’s grown between you, how much you long to close the gap, to bury yourself in his arms and pretend, just for a moment, that everything is okay.
“Y/N, look at me,” he urges gently, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The intensity in his dark eyes pulls you in, setting your pulse racing. The way he looks at you—it’s like he’s searching for something, something you’re not sure you’re ready to give.
“I don’t hate you,” you repeat, the words coming out firmer this time, but they feel insufficient, inadequate. You wish you could say more, but you’re terrified of what might spill out if you let yourself be honest. “You know I don’t.”
"Then what happened? Please, tell me what I did to make you… like this, with me?" Taehyung’s voice cracks slightly, a raw edge of hurt threading through his words.
He gestures between the two of you, his expression pained, and it feels like a knife twisting in your chest.
You steel yourself, trying to gather the courage you need to face him. Taking a deep breath, you slowly lift your gaze to meet his, but the weight of the truth feels too heavy on your tongue.
"You didn’t do anything. It’s me… it’s just… complicated," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, weak even to your own ears.
He leans forward, his eyes pleading. "Try me," he urges softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten even more.
Shame washes over you, and you shift uncomfortably, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I’m embarrassed," you admit, the confession slipping out before you can stop it.
He looks at you, genuinely puzzled. "About what?"
Your heart hammers against your ribs, your mouth suddenly dry. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, a nervous habit you can’t seem to shake.
His eyes track the movement, darkening slightly before he meets your gaze again.
"It doesn’t matter," you murmur, the words coming out in a rush as you desperately search for a way to change the subject.
A sharp pang of jealousy twists in your gut as you remember the woman who was with him earlier.
"Your date is probably waiting for you," you add bitterly, rising from your seat and heading over to the ice box, more to escape his gaze than because you need the ice.
"Date?" He sounds genuinely confused, and you can hear the scrape of his chair against the floor as he pushes it back.
You grit your teeth, struggling with the stubborn lid of the ice box. "That supermodel who was all over you," you say, the bitterness lacing your voice betraying more than you intended.
The image of her clinging to him, her perfect smile, her effortless beauty—it’s been gnawing at you ever since you saw them together.
A low chuckle escapes him, the sound both surprising and infuriating. You stiffen as you hear him move closer, the warmth of his body radiating toward you as he stops just behind you.
“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice much closer now. You can feel the heat of his chest as it brushes against your back, his presence overwhelming.
His hands gently cover yours, helping you pry the stubborn lid off the ice box. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to keep your breathing steady.
You stand there, frozen, as his hands linger over yours for a moment longer than necessary.
His breath fans against the side of your neck, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to melt into him, not to let yourself lean back into the comfort and security of his embrace.
But the walls you’ve built around your heart hold firm, even as they begin to crack under the pressure of his proximity.
"Look at me, Y/N." Taehyung’s voice drops an octave, deep and compelling, sending a shiver down your spine.
His hands find your hips, warm and firm, as he gently turns you around to face him. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the close proximity making your heart pound wildly in your chest.
He tilts your chin up with a single finger, his touch light but insistent, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your breath hitches as your eyes lock onto his, the intensity in them making your pulse race.
You can’t help but flick your eyes down to his lips, the proximity tempting you in ways you’ve fought so hard to resist.
"I'm right here. So tell me," he urges, his voice low and steady, filled with a quiet patience that only makes your turmoil worse.
But you can’t. The words are trapped in your throat, tangled with fear and uncertainty.
You shake your head, unable to break the silence. His expression remains unreadable, and the weight of your unspoken confession hangs heavy between you.
He sighs, a deep, weary sound, and nods sadly, as if resigning himself to your silence.
"Suit yourself," he says, the disappointment in his voice slicing through you like a blade. He steps away, the sudden distance between you making your chest tighten painfully. He turns to leave, and the cold emptiness that his absence would bring feels unbearable.
"Taehyung!" The word bursts from your lips before you can stop it, and you reach out, grabbing his arm.
Your touch is desperate, clinging, but he doesn’t turn around. Instead, he stands there, his back to you, and it feels like the world is slipping away.
You lean your head against his back, the warmth of him grounding you even as your emotions swirl in chaos.
"I need time," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just need time… to get over it."
He stays silent for a moment, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way his shoulders stiffen at your words.
"Get over what?" he asks softly, his voice gentle, almost afraid to hear the answer. He doesn’t turn around, as if he knows that facing you would only make you withdraw further.
You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest.
The word hovers on the tip of your tongue, terrifying in its simplicity.
"You," you finally whisper, the confession slipping out so quietly it’s almost lost in the space between you.
But he hears it. You feel the way his body goes rigid, the way his breath catches. The silence that follows is suffocating, the weight of your admission hanging in the air like a dark cloud.
You want to take it back, to swallow the words and pretend you never said them, but it’s too late. They’re out there now, raw and exposed, and there’s no taking them back.
At that moment, the door to the kitchen swings open, and a group of guests bursts in, their laughter and chatter filling the room.
They’re oblivious to the tension hanging thick in the air, their only concern the drinks they’re searching for.
Taehyung turns slowly, his gaze fixed on you, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and something deeper, something you’re too terrified to name.
Your heart is lodged in your throat, pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. Every nerve in your body is on edge, waiting—dreading—whatever he might say next.
But he doesn’t speak. He just stares at you, his expression unreadable, and the silence stretches on, suffocating you.
You can feel the heat rising to your face, your skin prickling with embarrassment as the other guests move around you, completely unaware of the emotional storm raging between you and Taehyung.
You swallow hard, wishing with every fibre of your being that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole, anything to escape the intensity of his gaze, the weight of what you’ve just confessed hanging in the air between you.
Humiliated and desperate to escape, you turn on your heel and leave the kitchen. Your mind is a blur, thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess.
You don’t even realize that instead of heading toward the living room, you’ve been dragged down the corridor.
Before you can process what’s happening, you’re gently ushered into Taehyung’s room, the door closing softly behind you both.
You whirl around, ready to demand an explanation, but the words die on your lips as Taehyung suddenly closes the distance between you, his soft lips pressing against yours in a kiss that takes your breath away.
It’s brief, just a brush of lips, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your entire body. He pulls back, his eyes searching yours, gauging your reaction. All you can do is stare at him, dumbfounded.
“Did you just kiss me?” you blurt out, blinking at him in disbelief. The room feels like it’s spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s from the shock or the residual effects of the whiskey.
Taehyung’s eyes dance with humor, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Isn’t that what you wanted to do?” he asks, one eyebrow quirking up in that teasing way that always made your heart flutter.
Your eyes widen in surprise. “I—do you even like me like that?” The words come out in a squeak, your voice betraying the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
His expression softens, the teasing giving way to something more serious, more earnest. The corner of his lips twitch as if he’s holding back a bigger smile.
“Do you need me to show you?” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his forehead rests gently against yours. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you wonder if this is all just a dream, if he’s just playing with you.
But before you can say anything, before you can question the reality of what’s happening, Taehyung dips his head again, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s slow and soft, deliberate in its tenderness.
The warmth of his lips against yours sends a cascade of butterflies erupting in your belly, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.
A soft whimper escapes your lips as you give in, allowing Taehyung to deepen the kiss.
His tongue meets yours, and the sensation sends a wave of tingles through your entire body.
When he moans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth, he pulls you closer, your bodies flush against each other.
The intensity of the kiss leaves you both breathless as he finally pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.
"Was that enough of an answer for you?" he murmurs with a smirk, his thumb gently stroking over your bottom lip. Before you can second-guess yourself, a surge of boldness takes over, surprising both him and yourself.
You part your lips slightly and take his thumb into your mouth, your tongue brushing against it as you suck gently. His breath hitches, his chest rising sharply as he inhales deeply.
His eyes darken with a mix of surprise and desire, and you can see the effect you’re having on him.
"Fuck" he breathes out, eyes glued to your mouth.
He grabs you by the waist catching you by surprise, dropping you on to the bed and causing you to squeal.
He captures your lips again, slowly leaning against his headboard, and pulling you on to his lap. His body was already on fire just from kissing you, how he had wanted to do this for so long with you.
Your lips slowly trail heated kisses along his neck, causing him to groan in pleasure "Y/N" the hard ridge of hic cock, pushes against your clothed pussy, you moan softly in his ear from the friction.
His cock hardens even more from the sweet sounds, desperate to hear more. Trailing his large warm hands from your hips down to your ass, he grips the round globes tightly, groaning.
"Fuck baby" he murmurs, as he kisses you deeply, his breath shuddering as you start to rock against his hardened length, pussy throbbing with need.
Panting, you pull away from the kiss, a slight smirk plays on your lips, as you reach for his belt. "Do you want me?" you ask hesitantly.
Taehyung bites his lip, eyes hooded with desire, thrusting his hips upwards pushing his erection into you, as if to remind you how hard he is. "Please!" he whimpers with need. The desire making his brain hazy.
The metallic clink as you unbuckle it seems to resonate around the room. His warm gaze holds your eyes captive, making you unable to look away.
Your hands tremble slightly as you undo the button at his waistband before slowly pulling the zip down. Taehyung watches in anticipation, he tongue darting out to lick his lips, aching for your touch. The throbbing in his tip becoming almost painful.
Slipping your hand inside, you feel the heat from his erection through his boxers, the fabric already a little damp from his pre-cum. "You're so hard" you whisper.
His head falls back, a guttural groan slips from him when you grip his thick length through the cotton.
"Can I suck you off?" you ask, to which Taehyung swears he almost explodes in his boxers like a teenager.
"Yes!" he almost rushes out desperately.
Wasting no time, you grip the waistband of his jeans and pull down, taking his boxers with them.
His cock, hard and heavy springs out, tip engorged and reddened. It's larger than you could have ever imagined, and you begin to wonder if you are taking more than you can handle.
He watches you with half-lidded eyes, as you lie on your front, swallowing harshly, he waits to feel your mouth on him.
Taking the velvet hardness into your hand, you slowly place butterfly kisses along his shaft.
He groans in pleasure at the sensation of your soft lips kissing him, “Y/N...” is all he can manage to say.
Wanting to get a better view, he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail around his fist holding it gently as you lick all along the underneath, reaching his tip and tasting the salty pre-cum that had beaded there before slowly taking just the tip and sucking.
His hips buck upwards slightly as you slide your mouth further down his thickness, stopping when you can't go any further without gagging.
He groans softly trying to stay still, as you tease him, taking him in half way before stopping and sliding your mouth back up.
You keep doing that a few more times, until he calls your name and gently pushes your shoulders gasping harshly. "I don't want to cum yet".
He takes a moment to collect himself, he grips the base of himself tightly.
Then he flips you on to your back with a smirk, crawling his way down your body, your black dress bunched at your hips. "I think it's my turn now" he says with a devilish smirk.
His hand slowly trails up your soft thighs, his lips following with kisses and little nibbles here and there, you can feel the dampness collecting in between your legs.
Reaching up to your panties, in one he pulls them down, discarding them over his shoulder.
His eyes land on your wet pussy and nods in appreciation, which causes you to blush. Taking his time, he slowly kisses his way all over, teasing. "Taehyung...." you call out in frustration.
He quirks an eyebrow with a smirk, knowing full well the effect it was having on you. Thankfully, he doesn't make you wait long before he trails his tongue in one lick all along your slit.
You gasp in pleasure and grab his soft hair, when he takes your clit and sucks it in his mouth. "Oh shit!" your eyes roll backwards, and he begins to lick at you like a man starved for days. The heat pools into your stomach quickly, your orgasm quickly approaching.
"Taehyung!" you almost plead, reaching out, to grab his forearm.
"Come for me baby" he murmurs, slipping a long finger inside you as he sucks on your clit.
Your thighs begin to shake, and you let of soft high pitched moans, that Taehyung swears he'll remember forever. He helps you ride out your high until you gently push him off from overstimulation.
He lifts himself up, reaching for the hem of your dress and helping you take it off. In one swift motion he discards the rest of his own clothes. His body was toned and perfect.
Pressing forward, he grips himself rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds. "You ready?" he asks, hesitating.
"Just fuck me already" you whine causing him to chuckle.
"So impatient Y/N" he teases.
"I think I've waited long enough" you point out.
Taehyung lubricates himself in your wetness, groaning from the sensation, he does that a few times before letting the tip catch in your entrance. He pushing forward slowly sinking in you, your nails dig into his back as you feel his large length forcing you to stretch out.
"You good?" he whispers against your cheek, checking your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod, "Yeah, I'm good"
He nods, slowly pulling out, dragging his cock against your pussy walls, before slowly thrusting back in. "Fuck you feel so good" he grunts. "Pussy's so tight"
He can't believe he's inside you, as your warm velvet walls envelop him, he worries he won't last long with how good you feel.
Your face flushes as you feel him fill your pussy up, he’s so thick forcing you to stretch around him. He picks up his pace, sitting back a bit so he can watch himself fuck you, sucking his thumb, he brings it to your clit, rubbing the little nub in slow circles.
"Oh my god, Taehyung" you moan arching your back.
"Mmmm you like that? Like the way I fuck you?" he chuckles darkly. "Look at this pussy swallowing my cock, you're doing so well."
The dirty talk spills from his mouth, turning you on even more. "Fuck, yes! I love it! You feel so big!" you pant, pussy clenching around him.
He groans "God, if you keep doing that, I'm not going to last" He grips your hips tightly, picking up his speed.
The tingles reappear, stronger this time. Without warning hot waves of pleasure wash over you, he helps you to ride it. "That's it, cum all over my cock, good girl" all you can do is cling to him as he fucks you through it, your thighs trembling.
Pulling out of your tightness, he thrusts back into you deeply, making you grunt. His balls tighten, abs tense, then his own orgasm rips through him violently. He
Burying his face into the crook of your neck he lets go. Pure, raw, pleasure fills his senses as his warm cum spills into you.
You both lay like that, hear rates returning to normal. He slowly pulls out of you, grimacing a little from the oversensitivity.
Standing up, Taehyung grabs a towel, returning to you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.
Once he's cleaned you up, he quickly cleans himself up, tossing the towel carelessly onto the floor. Without missing a beat, he flops back down on the bed, reaching out an arm to pull you into his embrace.
You settle against him, feeling the warmth of his body as he places a gentle kiss on your shoulder, then another on your forehead.
The sweet, simple gestures make you smile softly up at him. You lift your hand, brushing your fingers along the curve of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble that makes him so distinctly Taehyung.
"I'm sorry I avoided you," you say quietly.
His eyes soften as he looks at you, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry you thought I wouldn’t like you back," he replies, his voice gentle but firm, as if he’s determined to erase any lingering doubts you might have.
You swallow, the words you’ve been holding back finally bubbling to the surface. "I really want to be with you," you admit, suddenly feeling shy and vulnerable for saying it out loud.
Taehyung’s smile widens, his eyes lighting up with a joy that makes your heart flutter. "Good," he says, the word filled with certainty. "Because I want to be with you too."
A giggle escapes you. "I guess we have some time to make up for," you tease, your laughter bubbling up as the reality of this moment settles in.
"Mmmmm care for round two?", he whispers in your ear as you feel him hardening against your leg.
even more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
namjoon:
not a newborn baby but is a big proponent of the kangaroo care concept; like loves to cuddle you while he’s shirtless; him on his back you laid on top of him, skin touching skin at every possible contact point; it does it for him every time
sends you pictures of animals he finds wandering around when he’s out and about
takes soooo many pictures of you; don't get me wrong there's a fair share of couples photos like you're definitely taking selfies together whenever y'all go out but he takes twice as many off guard pictures of you as posed ones; definitely has a pic of you during golden hour forlornly looking out a window as his lockscreen
asks you to make him a playlist and listens to it whenever he misses you even if it's really disjointed and doesn't fit his mood simply bc you made it and he's always in the mood for you <333
learns to be more gentle around you so he becomes 5-7% less clumsy when you’re around
if you went to a party together i think there’d only be like one hour max where you’re separated from each other any more than that and y’all both start getting fidgety from missing each other bc if you’re in the same space you absolutely have to be together; when you do meet back up he tucks you up underneath his arm and kisses your temple and y’all are sickly cute for the rest of the night; like enough lovey dovey pda to make someone nauseous
always amazed at the amount of stuff you manage to bring out the house; like you'll come out after him and he sees you walking towards the car, arms stuffed to the brim with water bottles and lotions and umbrellas and whatever else you deemed necessary for the day's outings, so he has to rush to help you before you drop everything; eventually gets hip to the fact that you're a a girl and you're always gonna have bunch of things and starts pre-loading your belongings so you won't have to struggle
Oblivious Boyfriend™; as smart and emotionally intelligent and mindful as he is, he's not a mindreader; like he be so focused on his feelings for you, his passions, and his work that he lowkey don't know wtf going on outside of that; so if there's something going on around you or something wrong with you or you have a problem with him you're gonna have to spell it out lest he be none the wiser
doesn't like when you watch him work out because you're more of a distraction than anything but he does like going to you straight after working out; he gets a real kick out of the way you ogle him and feel up on his biceps while he's all pumped up
he really likes when you call him cute nicknames; joon, joonie, joonie boonie, namu like it lowkey make his heart soar; his personal favorite is joon bug you call him that and he would literally steal the moon if you asked
seokjin:
tests out all his new recipes on you; feeds you bites to taste along the way so you're not too hungry because he's a perfectionist and it takes him extra time for him to plate it; "the presentation is just as important as the taste!"
likes when you’re in the same room as him while he plays his games; not necessarily watching him but just your company is enough; switches between focusing on the game and engaging you in conversation so you won’t get bored; would actually love it if you did take an interest in whatever game he was playing; would take his time explaining the back story of each character and their strengths and weaknesses; would start a separate game so that you could play and have you sit between his legs while he helped you with the controls
has to kiss you at least 3 times before leaving the house; once when you wake up, once while you’re going through your morning routine, and once before you leave; more kisses may be shared but any less than three and he swears his whole day is thrown off
he’s going to pick at you; there’s just no way around it it’s in his nature; he won’t do it enough to make you actually annoyed but enough that you wanna smack him around a little; which… he likes things like that
has no problem singing and dancing whenever y'all are casually listening to music but if you actually wanted him to sing for you he'd get all shy, red in the ears and neck and would have to take a couple days to practice before following through
begs you to join him for tennis practice bc he wants you two to become the next venus and serena
y’all will do that one couples trend on tiktok where they paint each other and then reveal the pictures at the end and it’s not like yours is fantastic or anything but you can tell that you at least tried; meanwhile when you see seokjin’s painting you can’t tell if you’re looking at a distorted walrus or a possessed squirrel either way it is NOT you no matter how much he insists it looks like you
stays sending you thirst traps; like whenever he looks good whether it's bc he's all dolled up for some event or he's fresh out the shower with his hair slicked back or he just sees himself in a mirror and remembers he's worldwide handsome, his phone is out, he's putting a sultry look on his face, snapping a pic, and sending it straight to you
you binge watch animes together; no one will see or hear from either of y’all for like 5 days straight, complete radio silence; and when someone finally knocks on the door they see that y’all been camped out in the living room no phone in sight on season 6 of whatever anime y’all started last friday night
must feed you every time you meet up; like if he has not seen you eat something in the time you spend together he has not completed his boyfriend duties; even if he comes to your place he has to make sure you have at least eaten a snack; doesn't matter how much you weigh he absolutely can not have you wasting away on his watch
yoongi:
gently tucks your hair behind your ear
always offers you his arm to link when it’s cold out so y’all can share each other’s warmth; he absolutely will still be wearing slides with no socks tho and you fuss at him about it every time
lets you play in his hair; just sits there nonchalantly while you give him the most ridiculous hair styles; pig tails, corn rows, mohawks; as long as you don’t cut nothing he doesn’t care fr; takes a picture when you’re done with that big gummy smile on full display bc of how silly he looks
says he's not a big social media person but one of his favorite past times is sitting down with you scrolling down your fyp for hours; makes you send the funniest videos to him so he can watch later
you’re one of the few people that he gains energy from being around so he likes your presence even when you’re not particularly doing anything; like you just be sitting next to each other or like be hand in hand on a walk around the neighborhood not even saying anything but in his head he’s thinking about what a great time he’s having
if you're up late at night and start feeling peckish he'll make you some snacks even if he doesn't plan on eating; still scolds you about how eating late at night is bad as he's enabling you; ends up eating with you too
he doesn't like watching dramas with you; he'll claim it's bc of the plot but really he just doesn't like how you be kicking your feet and giggling at the male leads
not the best with verbal affirmations so whenever he does go out of his way to compliment you he ends up just as flustered as you are; “you look pretty today” and his cheeks are flushed more than yours
always preps you to bargain and gathers together all coupons before y’all go grocery shopping; “just bc i’m rich doesn’t mean i like to be ripped off”
he's always listening to you even when it seems like he's not; you could be rambling on about something and you think he's not paying attention so you stop midsentence and be like "are you even listening to what i'm saying?" and he looks up from whatever he was doing and then repeats back to you everything you said; has a great memory in general so he remembers everything you say and do even the small things that you forget about
hoseok:
sends ‘thinking of you’ texts just to let you know when you’re on his mind
if you start dancing to a song he gets all hyped up and he’s joining you immediately; hands on your hips moving you as he pleases; it’s a club wherever you and the music are
makes you one of his little beaded bracelets that says “ur my hope”
if you fell asleep in a position that looks uncomfortable he’d gently rearrange you until he got you in a more normal position; 100% the type to carry you bridal style to bed if you fell asleep for the night on the couch
the type to pop up at your crib with an insane amount of the most exquisite, top tier take out and you gotta try to figure out who he think eating all this; doesn't even try to fight the boujee allegations when you tease him for bringing out caviar and truffles
always takes pics of you when he thinks you look good; like you could be running late and you’re rushing trying to get out the door but hoseok is just gonna spend a good 30 seconds checking you out while you’re fussing at him and then be like wait a minute and starts posing you; has several organized folders of you because of this labeled by genre of your look; it’s easier that way so when he’s showing people pictures of you they won’t accidentally get a peek of something meant for his eyes only
loves the idea of you becoming his family so he really likes bringing you home; warms his heart to see you getting along with his parents and his sister; sets up a group chat with you him and his sister to help y'all talk more but lowkey gets pouty when y'all do get closer and be chatting and hanging out without him 💀
if you're not already together he'll facetime you in the morning; he won't have much to say at first other than a groggy good morning; but after he comes to terms with the fact that he has to be awake and takes a couple sips of his iced americano he's his usual ball of energy sunshiny self; will have you up doing morning stretches and light calisthenics at 6:30am
every couple weeks y'all go to the nail salon together and get mani-pedis; he leaves the acrylics and jewels and glitter to you but the overall color scheme and design aesthetic for your nails match; takes like 17 pictures of your hands together to show off
loves cuddling up to you on the couch so you can play in his hair; like each time his head is resting on your chest and your hand is running through his hair lightly scratching at his scalp he swears he’s reached nirvana
jimin:
will drag you out the house in the middle of winter to drive down to the beach and watch the sunset together; you’d be huddled up together you sat in between his legs leaning against him his arms draped around your neck pulling you into him; you’d stay there sitting in the sand even after the night settled in just talking until you were shivering and sniffling then he’d take you to a cafe to get some hot cocoa to warm up
randomly calls you in the middle of the night bc he misses your voice; smiles the entire he’s getting scolded for scaring you bc you thought something was wrong bc he called you at 2am
kisses your forehead, nose, and lips in that order every time you part ways
hates knowing there's other people staring at you so like if you're out together and wearing like a hoodie or something and he notices you're garnering attention he zips it all the way up and pulls your hood over your head and tightens the strings so no one can see you; in turn knows you hate the thought that other people even think of him so he pretends they don't even exist; like you can literally point somebody out and be like "omg aren't they so pretty" and he's gonna avert his eyes in the opposite direction won't even look and just be like "you're so pretty. there's only you"
number one advocate for a lazy morning; snuggles into you, his head on your chest trapping you in; looks up at you with a goofy smile and preens when you press a kiss to his forehead
squishes your cheeks in both his hands when you're being too cute for him to handle
like the true feminist he is, he supports your rights and wrongs!!; like you get into it with somebody and then tell him the story afterwards he's hyping you up the entire time telling you that you were right and what you should've done and what he would've done if he were you; he's just always gonna be on your side
riles you up just bc he likes the reactions you make when you’re irritated
it’s tea city when it comes to you two; like whatever you know he knows and whatever he knows you know; gossiping is actually one of your favorite bonding activities; he likes to play it up and drag it out whenever he finds something out; like he’s gonna text you and be like UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!!! and you’ll be like WHAT and he’ll be like I HAVE TO TELL YOU IN PERSON OMG!!!! 😱 when it’s like noon knowing darn well he not getting off work until 10pm at the earliest 😭
likes to go with you when you have to “run errands” bc it’s usually just you doing girl things like getting coffee and then going to the store to buy snacks and skincare and he thinks it’s really adorable how you light up when you see small things in cute packages
taehyung:
has a series of like 12 hour logs in his phone recents list bc he stay falling asleep on facetime
makes it a point to hang out with your male friends just to assert dominance; doesn't matter if they have partners of their own or are completely uninterested in you he still wants to look them in their eye, shake their hand, and then put his arm around you to tie up any loose ends that may be dangling around
helps you pick the eyelashes out of your eye whenever one gets stuck
asks you to come over with the sole purpose of convincing you to take a nap with him; will straight up lie on the phone and tell you he wanna hang out and do this and that and then when you get over there he like let’s nap first; your cuddles just gon do it for him every time
uses kisses as bargaining chips; like if you need him to do something like idk take out the trash he's only gonna do it if you give him 3 kisses so you give him one as a down payment and the other 2 after he completes the task; (he was always gonna do what you asked but kisses make everything better)
likes to keep his hands free when he's out and about so he's always adding extra stuff to your purse; because he's always in your bag, he knows its exact content; you'll be frantically searching for your lip gloss and he'll ask what you're looking for and when you tell him he'll pull it out of some random side pocket he moved it to so he could make room for his stuff
will randomly wake up out of his sleep and call you just bc you crossed his mind; takes like 30 seconds to respond to anything you say bc he only half awake; the call lasts for like three minutes before he hangs up to go back to sleep
as a big fan of roleplay at least once in your relationship he's gonna make y'all get all dressed up and go to a bar separately and act like strangers and he's gonna pretend to pick you up
if you sent him out to pick up period products last minute he’s the type that ask if you wanted lemon or lime flavor bc one package is yellow and the other is green 😭; alternatively would ask what’s your coochie size when he noticed the numbers on it
he’s not gonna let you win at any game you play; doesn’t matter how much you whine and pout he likes winning too much; god forbid you’re actually good at something he’s gonna try his very hardest and will even practice so that he eventually beats you; will give you all the prizes tho
jungkook:
if he gets bored while you’re asleep he’s gonna start messing with you; his favorite go to games are flicking your bottom lip until you tuck it in or start to gain consciousness and stacking cheerios on your forehead; his personal best is 9 of em
hooks his chin over your shoulder to be nosy when you’re watching something on your phone that catches his attention
he understands that you’re not as nocturnal as he is but sometimes when you stay over at his place and he feels restless he can’t help but crave your attention; will wake you up at 4am gently with kisses so you can try some of the food he made; you’ll be half asleep with him kneeling in front of you feeding you some spicy noodles; he’ll patiently wait for you to finish chewing before he asks you if it’s good; makes you take at least one more bite before kissing your forehead and letting you go back to sleep; tucks himself up next to you about an hour later after he finishes cleaning up after himself
you make funny tiktoks together; they never leave the drafts of course except for when he finds it particularly hilarious and sends it in the group chat
threatens to beat up anyone who upsets you; like you tell him a story about someone who was upsetting you at work and his first response is "bring them to me. i'll take care of it"; and lord don't let someone get carried away at a club or something like if a guy starts hitting on you and won't take no for an answer before you can even tell them off he's already at the scene one shove away from being breaking news on every media outlet in the world
gets pouty when you have a night out without him but he understands the need for balance so doesn’t put up too much of a fight; his only stipulation is that if you can’t make it home on your own or your friends can’t drop you off that you always always call him; the thought of you getting into some randos car late at night when you’re not even mentally there all the way sends chills up his spine; he can’t sleep unless he knows you’re at home safe and sound anyway
doesn't consciously have a preference for how you dress like he thinks you look good in whatever but you in a dress or a skirt itches a particular part of his id that would have carl jung doing backflips; like whenever you pop out in a dress or a skirt he's coming up to you and giving you a kiss on the lips while his arms wrap around your waist and 10-30 seconds later they're dropping down and his hands are toying with the ends of your garment and grazing your thighs underneath it; it just does it for him every time
you're his safe place <333; he goes through periods where you're the only person he wants to see; he will scare you half to death like you'll get off work and go home and you hear all this noise and whole time it's him in your kitchen making sandwiches for lunch; will make up for scaring you by tucking your face into his neck while his arms are wrapped tightly around you so he can breathe you in and then cupping your face and giving you kisses; you're his baby
you have matching hyperfixations; like one of you will get into something and won’t shut up about it and then being the supportive partner you are whenever you’re on social media you send the posts you stumble across to them; but then the algorithm picks up on it and the content keeps popping so often that you actually start being entertained by it too; then y’all won’t shut up about it and have inside jokes and no one ever knows what y’all are talking about bc it’s so deep down into the referential millennial dadaism
gets offended if you’re walking side by side and not touching in some way; like if you start walking ahead of him or something he’s gonna clear his throat very pointedly and when you look at him like ???? he’s gonna look at you like you’re stupid and pull you into him where you belong
a/n: as promised she is back 🫡 thank you to everyone who encouraged me to repost 💕 pls continue to be kind my mental state is probably worse than it was before LOL
#synopsis: where jungkook finds out you have a crush on him and well… you end up in his bed
#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, a little teasing and a… cute ending?
★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist
the story is a bit complicated, so i'll keep it short.
min yoongi is your best friend, you practically grew up together and even though now, because of college, you don't see each other every week, you at least talk on video calls.
and it was on one of those normal video calls that everything happened.
yoongi had recently broken up with his girlfriend, and with that he ended up entering the 'fuckboy phase' where he wanted to have sex with everyone without involving feelings, you listened to him, asked him to just be honest and not hurt anyone, and he agreed, but he also asked how you were, and you ended up telling him that you had a crush on his flatmate, jeon jungkook.
jeon jungkook had moved into yoongi's house a few weeks ago, they lived together with namjoon, taehyung and jimin too, you saw him a few times and even bumped into jungkook at college, but it never went beyond that.
when you told yoongi this, you didn't understand why he was laughing so fucking much... until you saw jungkook frame himself in the camera and laugh at you.
your reaction? turn off the video call, of course. and since then, you haven't seen each other again… at least until tonight.
it was namjoon's birthday, and you were celebrating with pizza, beer, music, and lots of friends. and you were forced to deal with jungkook when you went to the kitchen to get a beer and he came after you
"so, daddy's little princess has a crush on me?"
you just rolled your eyes, trying to ignore jeon jungkook's figure beside you, fuck, he looked so hot in his baggy jeans and black shirt, you wouldn't mind if he fucked you right there on the kitchen counter.
but you wouldn't give him that dose of happiness, so you just mumbled something and left the kitchen, mean, you tried, the next second jungkook's hand was squeezing your waist, and he was so close that you could tell exactly what brand of beer he had drunk minutes ago.
"leaving so soon?" he presses you against the kitchen counter, trapping you.
"what that fuc-"
jungkook leans in closer, his face inches away from yours. "hm? what were you gonna say?"
"what that fuck are you doing, jungkook?" you scream.
"i just wanted to see what you were up to, that's all. can't a guy come check on his friend?"
"i'm not your friend! where's namjoon? i'll find him!"
"what? i was enjoying so fucking much our conversation."
"don't be pathetic" you roll your eyes again.
"watch your mouth!" jungkook's eyes narrow at your comment.
"or what?"
"or i'll teach you some manners." you laughs, and jungkook smirks, his annoyance at your laugh is clearly visible. he looks down at you for a moment before leaning closer.
jungkook grabs your waist, pinning you on the counter again, he pushes himself against you, closing the gap between you. "i'll teaching you a leson."
"j-jungkook..."
"don't call me like that, when you say my name like that... god... i'll break you..." jungkook's body now is pressed firmly against yours.
"so do you have a crush on me too?" you laughs, teasing him.
"don't. fuck. temp me. you're playing with fire."
"well... i like getting burned sometimes."
jungkook kisses you, devouring your mouth completely while his hand roams your body, rubbing his body against yours in a not-so-gentle way, almost laying you down on the table, his wet tongue taking complete control and making you softer and softer to his firm touch.
you don't even know how it happened, but namjoon and yoongi, in the corner of the room, saw you and jungkook go up the stairs towards his room, visibly horny.
jungkook barely locks the bedroom door and throws you on the bed, taking off his own shirt and devouring you again while his cold hand continues to shamelessly pass over your body. he seems a little desperate, but that makes you even more excited, of course!
when you take off your shirt and hike up your skirt to your waist, jungkook seems to stop working for a few seconds.
"expect it? no, but i'm so fucking happy it's happening!"
jungkook places the palm of his hand on your pussy, and for a few seconds you feel embarrassed, it's almost pathetic how wet you are and you've barely done anything…
"fuck… all this for me?"
he laughs, lowering his face to fuck you, but you lift him up, grabbing his hair and asking him gently that you want to leave this for later. you touch jungkook's belt, unbuckling it and pulling his pants and underwear down, watching his fat cock jump down.
"i wan-need you inside me. now, jungkook!"
and he obeys, of course he obeys.
the thick cock opening you completely, but you've never felt so full. better yet, you've never felt so full of him.
"do you know how many times i've come imagining you like this? opening yourself up all over my cock? damn, you're so fucking hot!"
jungkook thrusts hard, clearly without any control over his own desire, and you love it, love how it seems like he's going to break you in half without even realizing it, love how it seems like he doesn't care about the creaking of the bed on the floor, love how he doesn't care if everyone down there will know that you two are having sex.
"you're mine. only mine. no one will ever touch you again. only me."
he kisses you, completely messy, one of his hands going up to your chest and playing with your nipples, your legs spreading wider and wider as if that would make him go deeper.
"i'm gonna fill you up so much, i'm gonna make you leak my cum and then i'm gonna cum in your mouth, on your tits, you're gonna sit on my face, i'm gonna make you cum in every way possible."
you grab his arm, screaming when you finally come around his dick, and that makes him come too, the hot liquid inside you making a mess that leaves you dizzy.
jungkook slows down, but still thrusting into you, sticky, wet, hot, and yet you want more, you need more…
"i-i wanna fuck you differently now." you arch your eyebrow, not quite understanding what he means. "i wanna fuck you like my girlfriend, i wanna cum inside my girlfriend and mark her all over"
“fuck, jungkook” is the only thing you can respond.
but he knows that's a yes.
and that's how he keeps fucking you all night long.
tags: light smacking, it hurts for like a second, graphic language, looooove (bf!jungkook), one shot, short fic, unbetaed, written in about an hour, bigdick!jungkook, idol au
summary: you fly out to meet your boyfriend after being long distance for a while and to do something special for the first time.
a/n: here!
~
You had to put it out of your mind that it was going to happen tonight.
After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, Jungkook was finally going to be right in front of you, completely naked, looking at you in a way that you’ve never experienced before.
Before all that, though, you needed to get picked up from the airport, arrive at his place, shower, and have something to eat.
The flight was excruciating to say the least. Your knees poked into your chest, practically, as you tried not to think too hard about how you were forced into invading your fellow passenger’s personal space by the stupid cabin engineer’s greedy design.
Whatever. It will be over soon and you’ll be up and out of this flying metal tube in the sky in a little over an hour.
You tried not to wince as you reached down for your bag to pluck a bag of seaweed snacks from one of the side pockets. They only charge so much for food at the airport because they know you don’t have any other option.
What are you gonna do? Pick up your car from the overnight parking garage two miles from the airport, drive all the way to the closest McDonald’s, repark your car, walk back to the airport and go through TSA again, all in time for your flight?
Ridiculous.
You’ve never been able to properly sleep on airplanes, so for the rest of the way to Incheon, you delicately balanced your tablet on the sad excuse of a cabin tray and watched your downloaded episodes on Netflix.
Sarah Jessica Parker was so hot back in the day. Retrospectively, though, Kristen Davis was criminally underrated in the earlier seasons. You crossed your arms and waited for the plane to hit the ground running.
—
You had this idea that you were hard to make cum. You weren’t able to do it when taking a dildo, so you figured it would be difficult for you to cum on Jungkook’s dick. No big deal. That wasn’t really the point, anyways.
Not only did you cum on Jungkook’s dick, you were able to several times while he was still inside you, pumping and smacking his hips against you in missionary position as your legs pinned his thighs, bucking upwards to take in as much of him as you physically could.
He’d hold you in his arms and look down at you with his long hair. He would look kind of cute at this angle if he didn’t have such a determined and almost fierce look on his face while he pushed on your thighs to get you to give a little bit.
He fucked you shallow. He methodically placed your hands beside your head to make sure they were out of the way of his arms, pressing into the mattress to offset his harder thrusts.
!!
That’s when you felt a sharp pain deep in your gut. “Ow!” You chirped.
“Ow?!” Jungkook echoed, alarmed. “What? Did I hurt you?!” He pulled away, breathing heavily. Jungkook was kneeling on the bed, a look of concern washing his face as he postured his cock with his right hand.
“I’m not sure…” you frowned. “What happened?”
“I was just getting all the way in. Was that not comfortable at all?”
You glanced down at Jungkook’s cock. Fully hard, he was almost 8 inches long. On top of that, he had exceptional girth. He was just a little bit bigger than the dildo you had at home.
In fact, it was that very dildo that he gifted you to practice with one day that felt so small compared to him in actuality.
After a while of no response, Jungkook added: “It felt really good. I couldn’t really get all the way in until just a second ago and that’s when you said ‘ow’.”
“I think you might be just a little bit… too big,” you hesitated, surprised at the reality of things.
“I’ve heard it before. I’m sorry for hurting you.” Jungkook said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.
“It’s okay. I still think you’re really hot. Do you think you could help me take your size?” You ask.
“Yeah. Of course. We can do it together. Here. Let me try from the side or back,” he prompts, shifting around so that he is almost spooning you.
He moves your leg over his side and uses his thumb and index to very lightly graze your labia to find your vagina.
He’s found it.
His fat tip splits you as he dives into your sweet and tight intimacy. He scoops your arms up so that your back lay flush against his chest and nips your ear between his teeth. “Is that better?” He puffs, an intoxicated smile spreading on his tender lips.
“Yeah~” you sigh, throwing away every unrelated thought out the window as you took in every drop of sweet fucking that he was giving you.
“Good~” he groans. His hands settle down on your hips as he bottoms out on you, tangibly snug against your cervix. He thrusts experimentally, rolling in.
Again, he rolls in and firmly pressed the tip of his cock against your cervix, his large hands cupping your hips.
“Fuck— Babe,” you whine. “More—“ was all you can manage.
“More?” He teases, pulling out just to smack back into you. His arms catch you in a close embrace as he screws your tight pussy. He fucks you with his leg over your thigh, curving his long, thick cock into you in a strict rhythm.
Not missing a beat, he spreads you on the bed and digs his knees into the mattress. He is now over you, his cock shifting inside of you. “That good?” He asks briefly.
“Mhm,” you insist, your head turned against a large and fluffy pillow.
Holy fuck was this an amazing view. Jungkook balanced on one hand to quickly jiggle your ass and smack it lightly, moaning at the sight. He wanted to bury his face in your cunt and suffocate in your thighs. The idea of being able to fuck you like this with his fat cock made him want to—
“Fuck! Y/N, you’re so hot,” he mumbled as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you.
Your mind was in a daze. There was nothing you could focus on expect the deep, pleasurable, satisfying sensation of your boyfriend filling you. His skin felt like soft warm sand on a beach, his languid thrusts milking every bit of delectation from your body.
You swell and contract around him, constricting his cock inside of you, which earns you a drawn out groan from Jungkook. He huffs.
Without much warning, your orgasm rolls over you. Jungkook staggers and rips out a soft, exhausted groan as he cums inside of you.
—
He kisses your cheeks and lips, turning you towards him. His forehead rests on yours. “I love you. I love you very much,” he says. “I will never ever hurt you. If it hurts again, you need to tell me.”
"This was a dumb idea," You grumble to Simon as he took your hand in his and continued to sway with you in time to the music. Tonight you were supposed to be having a small get-together with a couple of friends and yet somehow it had turned into a small house party where people were already way past wasted.
"It's fine, Yn. You and Jungkook will still get to spend some time together later," Simon teased and you shot him a look. He knew that you and Jungkook hadn't really spent much time together since you'd been a little rushed off your feet with work and tonight was the one chance you had to hang out again.
"But then again, if he took you seriously you wouldn't have to beg for his attention," Simon grumbled a little. It was safe to say he wasn't the most fond of your "friendship" with Jungkook but you actively avoided talking about it with Simon since you knew his viewpoint on it all.
"Si," You sighed a little, not wanting to hear the same lecture you'd heard a million times before tonight. You knew how people felt about your situationship with Jungkook but it still didn't change how you felt about him.
"I'm serious. What do you even see in him? Is the dick really that good if he ignores you all the time?" Your hands dropped from Simon and you pushed your way through the house, Simon hot on your trail as you reached the kitchen and grabbed a drink from the fridge.
"Ignoring me won't make it go away, you know that right," Simon said as you stared at him, glancing over your shoulder at Jungkook who was currently surrounded by girls all giggling and twirling strands of hair around their fingers.
"He's using you...you know that right?" Simon wasn't one to hold back when it came to you. Sometimes he knew you just needed someone to tell you how it was and make you see straight but it seemed as though nothing worked when it came to Jungkook. It was as if there were invisible talons dug so deep inside of you, blinding you to everything except the "good" between you and Jungkook.
"No. It's- It's not like that, we're just-" You couldn't even find the words of what you wanted to say. It was hard to talk to anyone about this, especially when they didn't understand it.
"You're in love with him, I get that. But babes, you need to wake up and see that he's using you. Just like he uses everyone else." Simon placed a reassuring hand on your arm but it only made you feel worse about everything, you didn't want to be pitied right now.
"I'm not-" You couldn't even finish your sentence since the look Simon was giving you was one of a death stare, warning you not to even deny it to yourself anymore.
The truth was. You were in love with Jungkook and you had been for a long time now but you had trouble even admitting it to yourself never mind those around you.
The two of you had been fucking for almost five months at this point and you'd fallen head over heels in love with him, despite the two of you stating at the start of everything it was just something between friends. Something to cool off and let off some steam and relax after troubles the two of you had been having and it wasn't as though he'd pressured you into it, it had been your idea just as much as it had been his.
"You can't even deny it, everyone knows it...Including Jungkook but he never says anything because he knows he'll lose someone he can get a lay with." Your chest tightened at the thought of Jungkook knowing about your crush on him and yet he continued to pull you along...But did it really matter?
The two of you were only sleeping with each other, it wasn't as though you were sleeping around. It was one of the stipulations you'd had going into the whole situationship with him. The two of you were only going to fuck each other, and if the other wanted to fuck someone else they would tell the other one first. Simple enough.
"Yn. You need to wake up and realise that this isn't good for you." Simon whispered but your mouth had gone dry and the drink in your hand was doing nothing to help the matter. You quickly downed the liquid, hissing as the vodka burnt your throat as it went down, you threw a glance back at Jungkook who was now watching you closely. His eyes zeroed in on Simon's hand which was still holding your arm softly.
If it was nothing more than friends then someone was going to have to explain Jungkook's jealousy whenever he saw you with another guy. There was no way all of this was in your head. Jungkook must have felt the same way for you as you did for him otherwise there would be no kind of attraction there. Right?
As the noise of the party began to settle down people were gathering around the living room, Simon by your side as you sat beside Jungkook's ex-girlfriend - Mia - and she sat beside Jungkook who was smirking over at you. His eyes hadn't left you ever since he'd seen you in the kitchen with Simon and you couldn't help but feel your body reacting to him.
Your whole body warmed at the thought of him staring at you, your thighs rubbed together to soothe the ache you'd felt for him for the last two weeks since you'd been together and he grinned at you.
"Who's ready to get real?" Simon smirked as he placed a bottle in the centre of the floor, glancing around at everyone who cheered softly. It was like you were all in school again with the childish games you were playing but it was just for a little bit of fun.
"You remember the rules, any dare or truth you can't do or say, you drink," Simon smirked as everyone held up their drinks in agreement, your hands clutched the bottle of beer you were nursing and you nodded your head,
"The last time we played this you ended up in the neighbour's pool, naked," Damon says as he stares over at Simon who did nothing but smirk proudly at his previous achievements in this game.
"that's because I am the king of truth or dare," Before anyone could claim his title, he smirked once more before spinning the bottle and letting the game begin.
As the game started it was small dares or truths, people asking them to kiss the same sex, or someone being dared to down a drink but as it continued into the night the dares got a little more extravagant and the truths were a little deeper until the bottle finally landed on Jungkook.
"Truth," He smiled at Simon and the room seemed to fall into silence as you all waited for Simon to ask him a question but there was something in his eyes. Something you weren't entirely sure how to read about him that suddenly made your whole chest ache, you placed your hand on his thigh.
"Si?" You laughed awkwardly as you waited for him to ask Jungkook his question but his eye twitched and he suddenly looked more angry than you'd ever seen him look before in the whole time of knowing him.
"When was the last time you had sex?" Simon finally asked Jungkook before the room laughed softly, your eyes finding Jungkook's as you waited for him to tell everyone it had been a few weeks since the two of you had been together but that moment never came. Instead, it was something that filled you with a deep achingness you couldn't shift.
"Last night." You stared at him, a little confused. The two of you hadn't been together in almost three weeks now so it confused you as to where he was coming from. Simon watched you closely, it was obvious he knew the answer to Jungkook's question before he even asked him and now he was waiting for you to realise the truth,
"But-" You stopped yourself from speaking when you saw Mia giggling from beside you, her hands locked onto Jungkook's thigh. You stared at them both, watching the way she cuddled into him and he stared down at her, his expression unreadable but his eyes were no longer on you and only on her.
Slowly the wheels in your head started to turn and you realised it was her who he had slept with, without even telling you about it himself. Instead, you'd found out through your friend and you even wondered how he knew about it.
Without even pausing to think about it, you got up from the floor and headed outside, needing to get some fresh air and clear your mind about everything.
Jungkook was the one who had agreed to tell you about anyone else he was sleeping with. That he would come to you and have the decency to tell you if he was going to fuck around with anyone else behind your back and yet you'd been forced to face this without any prior knowledge.
"Yn," Simon whispered as he stepped onto the porch but you were just as angry with him as you were with Jungkook.
"How could you embarrass me like that?!" Your voice cracked as you spoke, unshed tears threatening to spill out as you stared at someone you had considered your best friend but now felt as though he was twisting a knife inside of your back.
"Mia couldn't stop bragging about how she and Jungkook were going to get back together after fucking last night...you wouldn't listen to me." He trailed off as if this was the best solution he could have come up with,
"So you decide to make me feel like a twat in front of everyone?" You stared at him, waiting for him to defend his actions, to say sorry for what he'd done but he didn't even look sorry about it. It almost seemed as though he was proud of what he'd done.
"You're not even sorry...Are you?" Your voice dropped to a whisper as you watched him, your eyes boring into his skull. Simon swallowed thickly as he studied you for a moment, deciding whether or not this was the best time to do this,
"No. I love you, and it hurts to see you throwing yourself at someone that only uses you. He doesn't care about you the way I do!" You shook your head, taking a step back away from him. There was nothing between the two of you, nothing but brotherly love on your side at least.
"Si-"
"Leave." A voice from the door suddenly said, sounding pissed off. You glanced over Simon's shoulder to see Jungkook standing in the doorway of the home, watching you both closely and red in the face with anger.
"We're trying to talk," Simon grumbles defensively trying to stay there as long as he wanted but you were clearly uncomfortable enough and wanted this conversation to end. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who shook his head.
"Clearly, Yn doesn't want to talk to you. So leave her alone." Simon didn't bother putting up any kind of fight since he knew better than to challenge Jungkook on something, he just sulked back through the house leaving you and jungkook alone in an uncomfortable silence. The only thing filling the air was the sounds of crickets in the distance and the faint sound of music coming from inside the house.
"Want me to get your mind off things?" he smirked, stalking toward you as you took a step back.
"You're back with Mia." You state plainly, staring at him as you wait for him to deny it. To tell you it wasn't true and that he was only joking around or something but he just shook his head at you,
"No. It was one night...and I was so drunk I didn't know my head from my arse," He ran his hand through his long hair and you resisted the urge to reach out and touch it as well, it was one of the many things you loved about him,
"One night you neglected to tell me about." You folded your arms across your chest, doing the best you could to stand your ground on the matter. This might have been a friends-with-benefits situation but there had been clear rules in place to stop shit like this from happening.
"You sound like a jealous girlfriend." Jungkook laughed weakly and you stared at him, your eyes narrowing a little as you shook your head. You almost couldn't believe he had the audacity to say that to you. He of all people should have known jealously when it slammed him across the face.
It was only last month when a guy hit on you at a bar and he nearly knocked the guy out just for talking to you.
"What and you don't?! You practically just bit Simon's head off and he was talking to me," You waited for him to scream a confession at you so you didn't feel like you were going crazy or seeing feelings where there weren't any.
"He was being a creep," Jungkook grumbled, leaning against the wall as he watched you closely. His eyes drank in your appearance as he took in what you were wearing, the action of which made you shift from one foot to the other.
"So if it was someone else, someone I wanted to kiss and fuck you wouldn't care?" You were playing with fire, a dangerous game but right now you didn't seem to give a shit. All you cared about was getting to the bottom of his feelings for you.
"Don't say that, you wouldn't do that-"
"But you're allowed? Is that it?" You practically bit off his head with your question and he stared at you, completely taken back from where all of this was coming from with you.
"No...baby, come on-" You held your hand up as the pet name for you came out. Something that had once made you feel like the most special person on the planet now felt like a bucket of ice water was being poured over your body.
"Don't," You begged, your voice sounding weak as you shook your head.
"What? Don't call you baby? Is that the problem?" He took a step toward you, trying to reach out and touch you but you shuddered a little. Everything you'd been holding back finally broke out and erupted in front of him like a volcano that had been dormant for far too long.
"The problem is, you don't mean it! You call me by all of these cute fucking pet names and yet you never want anything from me!" your voice came out strained as Jungkook watched you closely.
"You liked it before," He whispered,
"This needs to end...w-we...We can't keep sleeping together." The words flew from your lips and Jungkook felt his heart break as he watched you closely,
"Yn..."
"I can't keep doing it," You whispered and all of a sudden it was like a weight was off your chest. No longer having to wonder when he was going to call, constantly making sure you were free just in case he called you to come and fuck.
"I thought this was working out...I don't understand," he whispered as you looked at him,
"You're sleeping with Mia, I won't be involved with that. This was supposed to be just the two of us," You stumbled over the words a little.
"This was all your idea, it was going so fucking good. Mia and I were a mistake, I was drunk," He whispered, taking your hands in his as you stared at him. You'd never seen him look so distressed before.
"That was before," You whimpered, struggling to get out of his grasp but he kept his hands locked with yours,
"Before what?"
"I'm in love with you!" you screamed at him, the world suddenly turning cold as you stared at him. Waiting for him to say something, anything to you.
"Oh my god. Princess, we agreed on no strings attached...You remember that right?" How could you not? It was something that plagued your mind every single time you went to sleep at night thinking of being wrapped in his arms.
"Exactly, that's why I'm stopping." You whisper a little as he drops your hands, staring at you as he shakes his head.
"You can't...Please," He was practically begging as he stared at you, his eyes searching yours.
"Jungkook...I can't keep playing the role of a fuck buddy when I'm hopelessly in love with you. The way you constantly care for me when I'm sick or stressed...T-The way you're always there for me even when I'm mad at you or yelling." You whisper, starting to go off on a rant about how much you loved him and what had even made you fall for him in the first place and Jungkook just watches you, unsure of what to do or say.
"Say...Say something," You breathe out, staring at him as he takes in a deep breath.
By now, his face was red as he looked at you. His chest tightened as he heard everything you'd had to say to him.
"I've always known that I had feelings for you but I kept ignoring them or sidestepping them because I felt like it was wrong...to have feelings for your friend." He bit down on his lip as he reached out to touch your hand, your fingers intertwining as you watched him,
"I tried my best to not focus on that and just be here with you, and instead focus on the fact that what a hot piece of ass I get to sleep with.." His voice was coming out in a whisper now as he stepped in front of you, his hands cupping your face in his grasp as he gently ran his thumb along your bottom lip.
"I can't say that I love you yet but I definitely feel like something could happen here. I do have feelings for you and deep down I always knew that. Yn...I want to give us a chance. Please...Let me give us a chance." He practically begged as he held you close to him, your heart practically ripping its way outside of your chest and into his waiting arms,
"What about Mia?" You weren't going to ignore the fact that he'd slept with her,
"A drunken mistake, I'll never touch her again...Please," You swallowed thickly as you watched him, you wanted more than anything to believe him. To give this a real shot at the two of you.
"You promise you won't...sleep with her again?" You arched your brow as he nodded his head, biting down on your lip you nodded slowly.
"Pick me up tomorrow...at seven, book somewhere fancy," You warn him as he smirks at you, running his fingers over your cheek softly.
"I know the perfect place," He promises before leaving a small and gentle kiss on your cheek.
Staying true to his promise Jungkook had never slept with anyone else ever again, his sole focus had always been on you and never anyone else again. It had only taken a few months before he told you he loved you back and now the two of you were on your first couple's holiday together.
Jungkook had flown you both out to Paris where you spent the whole two weeks doing everything a couple could possibly do together in Paris.
"I love you," You giggle at him as he pours you some champagne, the two of you sitting under the Eiffel Tower and waiting for it to sparkle for the night,
"I love you too, princess," he smirks, leaning over and kissing you softly. Right as your lips connected the Eiffel Tower lit up, sparkling around you both as you wrapped your arms around Jungkook and pressed yourself closer to him.
summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.
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pairing: yoongi x f!reader
genre: established relationship au, fluff
word count: 1.1k
content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧
warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭
a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33
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Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.
You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.
The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.
Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.
You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."
"Yeah, which is totally unfair."
Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”
You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”
He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”
He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.
“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”
You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.
“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”
You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.
It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.
“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.
“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.
Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.
Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.
As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.
“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”
“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.
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Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.
A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.
“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”
Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”
You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”
He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.
The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.
I love you.
The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.
It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.
God, he just fell in love with you all over again.
summary. maybe you were a little naive believing that your pretty neighbour only invited you for some drinks..
notes. TUMBLR CAN NOT TAKE ME DOWN! i come back stronger, better- nastier.. also i learnt how to do multi colored gradients, are y'all proud of me? anyway enjoy! 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐
warnings/includes. SMUT!, pervy! neighbour! jungkook x sweet? f! reader, masturbation mentioned, god awful horny thoughts, jk has a short skirts kink?, cumming on tummy
Getting invited by your pretty neighbor for some drinks was definitely not weird, right? I mean, maybe you were a little naive, not noticing how he'd look at your laundry line and the panties you hung up, not noticing how his eyes wandered to your tits when you casually talked— he just was such a sweetheart.
you also brushed of how jungkook always seemed to be just outside of his yard when you came back from your little morning run, how his eyes traveled over your tight leggings while he passed you a cold water bottle. or how he starred just a bit to long when you bent over to pick something up when he helped you carry groceries.
all those times were just him helping you, silly!
and late at night, when you heard loud moans from his apartment side, you didn't try to think much of it. the walls were thin! you lived so close! and masturbation was completely normal! the thought of him with his hands wrapped around his own length definitely didn't make your mind all fuzzy, because you were a good neighbour just like him- and good neighbours don't think about stuff like that!
so when he invited you over to his for some drinks, the fact that you picked the shortest of your dresses - and "forgot" to wear some panties - was just a thoughtless 'mistake' on your part! you most definetly didn't do that on purpose, right?
you swore you were listening properly when he was going on and on about his boring job, your nipples definetly did not harden at just his voice, right?
you didn't flinch, when he spilled whiskey accidently over your top as he apologised, grabbed some paper towels and his fingers stayed just a little to long, a little to intimately on your tits.
you yourself couldn't quite believe the words that slipped out of your mouth to be truly yours, "can you just fuck me already?"
for a split seconds his lips parted in response, a light dumbfounded look on his face, you enjoyed way more then you should've. but he regained composure so quick like he had waited years for this, "then be a good girl and pull up that dress for me"
you do as he says in one swift motion the second you hear the words leaving his mouth, pulling up your dress. your bare pussy revealed in front of him, maybe you were a bit to eager. but your pussy ached to be taken care of!
"did you come here with no panties on, just on the hope that i'd play with you?" his voice cut through the air filled with thick tension as he opens his belt.
oh god please fucking play with me. the words lingered on your tongue but all you managed to do was nod
his pants drop down, and he makes the mistake to look at you as you look up at him with innocent eyes and the little pout on your lip - and he groans, because no one has looked at him like that, grunting, "you're so damn pretty" while his thumb brushed over your lip, the motion gentle though his words weren't, "how often did you to yourself? thinking of me? all the time, huh?"
you admit that you tried to be quit about it with a quit whine, all that your eyes could focus on was his dick right in front of your swollen pussy.
"i always imagined you'd be all cute when i'd finally get my hands on you... but i always imagined you with a tight little skirt, you know the ones i mean?" he starts talking, his fingers almost in a torturous manner wandering over your thighs, slow.
why was he talking? stop talking, fuck me. you suppress, biting your lip in response, "was a tight dress not enough? i thought of you y'know"
"it's cute," he played with the ridden up hem of it, "it'll do for tonight"
'for tonight' the words ringed in your mind, all of the filthy positions running through your head, this was the first time but it certaintly wouldn't be the last. he made himself a mental note to buy you some of the tightest skirts he could find, and some cute thigh highs, later.
his hands moved to your ankles, spreading you just how he wanted, positioning himself infront of him.
"you're so pretty," he mumbles once more though it seemed more like it was a thought that had just escaped him. for a second he thinks he's going to be rough with you, just take you. but then he changes his mind - the first time, he'd go slow. he'd be gentle. you deserve somebody gentle.
he slowly pushes himself into you, hands wandering over your hips reassuringly, a silent 'you can take this, i know you can'
he was thick, scretching you out just right.
"i can take it, please, don't be slow" your hips bucked against his, even as you whined, the words coming out more demanding then you had intended, "please"
he groans and grips your hips harder at that, you're so impatient - he's trying so hard to be careful and sweet about this, for once in his god damn life and there you go.
"can't go too fast, you hear me? you're so tight, i just want to make you feel-" he groans, having a hard time keeping himself together.
you bite your lip, throwing your head back slightly, you could feel him somewhere in your tummy. fuck how was he so big?
jungkook takes the opportunity to trail kisses down your throat, finding the same place on your shoulder he always imagined putting his teeth on.
he gives you a second to catch your breath, before he starts to move, slow and deep, making sure to hit that sweet spot inside you.
a string of sweet nothing's leave him on 'how you were made for this' and 'how you had such an innoccent fucking face but you were such a slut'
he picked up pace, grinding into you whilst cursing something under his breath.
this was nothing like the times you had touched yourself. as he pushed his tattoed fingers into your mouth gently as you licked with a passion that was concerning.y
"you like this, huh? you like feeling big dicks in you?" he moaned out, knowing you wouldn't be able to respond.
"so this is what it's like," he groaned, his hand left your hip, finding their way up to your tits. "you're the best damn fuck i've ever had."
"fuck, jungkook...i'm cumming"
"fuck" he breathed out, his orgasm not far behind. he pulled out, only for a moment, jacking himself off and coating your stomach with his release. jungkook leaned down to kiss you lazily, groaning against your lips hkw sexy you were with the cum painting you.
his tongue peeked through to lick his release of you himself, sensualy.
Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship
Summary: JK's boxing coach tells him he can't come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn't that long, right? ... Right?
Word count: 13.2k
Content: oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (f.), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex toys, uh implied come eating? (It's not mentioned but he comes in her then eats her out sooooo it's happening 😂), cutesy nicknames that honestly even make me cringe these days lmaooo
A/N: as I said in a post earlier today, this hit 6k notes on the old blog and I know crowing about notes is tacky and no one cares (and even I don't care! That's not why I'm here!), but I never really got to celebrate this fic when I posted it and it took the fuck off. So here's to another 6k 🤪🤪🤪
FOUR WEEKS TO GO
Jungkook walks slowly, very slowly, down the corridor to the door of your apartment. He does not want to go through it. He really doesn’t want to have to tell you what he’s about to.
Four weeks no sex.
That’s what Coach said. No sex, no masturbation, orgasms 100% completely verboten. He knows this is not going to go down well with you. From the very start of your relationship, you have never gone that long without sex. Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it; he’s not sure if you will be either. A tiny part of him worries what it might do to your relationship – you’re stronger than that, aren’t you? This won’t hurt your relationship, will it? You’ve been together for years now, four weeks without sex can’t change anything… Right? Jungkook knows in his heart of hearts that it’s right but the thought of four weeks without you is so unutterably awful that he also can’t believe it won’t change things.
He flops face-first onto the sofa next to you and squirms immediately as you rake a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Absolutely none of that from now on.
“You ok?” you ask and he can’t answer because the answer is no and he’s not going to be for another four weeks, another 29 days in fact. He mumbles nothing into the sofa.
“Just tired? Training hard today?”
Training wasn’t hard, especially. This conversation we’re about to have is hard, Jungkook thinks. Keeping his face shoved into the sofa cushion, he breaks the news.
“Jungkook,” slight impatience in your voice now. “I cannot understand you when you talk into the sofa; what’s going on?”
He lifts his head slightly but can’t bring himself to look at you.
“Coach says we can’t have sex until the fight.”
“WHAT?”
“We can’t have sex until the fight,” he repeats, quietly, miserably.
He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, still not daring to look at you.
“But that’s four weeks away! Four weeks!”
“I know!”
He takes your hand and kisses it, leaning up on his elbows. He rests his head on your thigh, bumping it gently as if he were hitting it against a brick wall. He mumbles under his breath, as close as he ever got to invective against his Coach (whom he nevertheless trusts and respects deeply). You’re being quieter than he expected you to be and it makes him nervous. He expected outraged protestations, reasoned arguments, begging and pleading. But you’re sitting and thinking.
“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”
“He says it’ll improve my focus, power, and aggression if I don’t come between now and then…”
You hum in response and he risks a peek at your face. You’re smirking and something about it makes his stomach drop.
“So… You can’t come, but I can do whatever I want, hm?”
He hadn’t considered that. Of course, that makes sense; you’re not wrong, but Jungkook realises this with absolute horror. Not being able to fuck you for four weeks was going to be bad enough as it is, but four weeks of getting you off without a single second of relief for him? He feels sick.
“Noooo! Baby, please. Please, you have to do this with me.”
It’s not his usual role, but he is not above begging. You shake your head.
“No way; four weeks is a long time and I’m not fighting anyone.”
“I know it’s a long time! That’s why we have to do it together!”
“On the contrary, my sweet, little biscuit, the whole point is that we don’t do it together, isn’t it?”
You lean down and kiss his nose but it is of no comfort. He’s pouting now, both furious and devastated at this turn of events. When you start running your hands through his hair again and his dick twitches, he groans; this will kill him, he thinks. Stone cold dead, this is going to kill him. He holds your hand tight and looks at you, finally, dead in the eye, eyes wide and pleading, his absolute best puppy dog.
“Please,” he begs. “Please.”
“Why don’t we have one last night?” you suggest and Jungkook groans because he knows that tone. “You can start tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference, surely?”
You slide down the sofa until your faces are almost level and Jungkook is about to rest his head where your thigh was, but discovers your breast in its place. He holds still. This is his first test and, while you might have a point, he’s got rules to follow and he can’t break now, not at the very first hurdle. He’s got better self-control than that, hasn’t he?
“Hm?” you continue. “Start tomorrow… Come on, Kookie, please.”
He wants to say yes, of course he does, but if he’s going to last four weeks, he’s going to have to practise saying no.
You slide off the sofa onto your knees on the floor and he eyes you carefully. You’re dangerous and you know it. When you trail your fingers down his spine and kiss the back of his neck, he shivers.
“I want you so badly,” you whisper in his ear and he groans. You slip your hand underneath his T-shirt and he’s sticky with sweat. “I didn’t have you yesterday and now we have to go four weeks? Kookie, I can’t take it… Be good to me, Jungkook, please.”
He loves it when you beg. Hearing his name in your mouth all high and whiny, tremulous with need and desire. If he wasn’t hard before, he is now. Goosebumps follow your hand on his back and he shivers, groaning into the sofa, fists clenched again.
“My love, stop it, please. We can’t.” His voice is weak and he can’t believe how weak he’s feeling; if you persist might longer, he genuinely feels he might snap and he’s ashamed that his self-control is apparently all but non-existent. He must do better.
“But I’m so wet already.”
Fuck. He snaps. He kneels up and looks at you, your innocent, little face, a devil in disguise. If you’re just playing with him, just teasing, you’re going to be in big trouble.
“Get up,” he commands, slapping the sofa. You obey without hesitation and he grabs you by the legs, pulling so you’re falling onto your back. He tells him yourself you were lying, of course you won’t be wet; you’re just teasing him and he’ll tell you off and ask you to take this seriously and it’ll all be fine. Then he yanks down your trousers and your underwear.
“FUCK.”
He brings his hands to his face and rubs.
“Fuck, I thought you were lying just to tease me, but fuck, you really are.”
You are. Looking at you is almost painful; he’s desperate to touch you. You’re right there in front of him, legs spread, and all he has to do is touch you. But he can’t. If he starts, he won’t be able to stop. He shuffles back away from you slightly, hands moving to reach you and then pulling back. He swears again.
When you spread your legs wider and shuffle yourself down closer to him, he has to stand. He has to do something with his hands: clenching at his sides, on his hips, on his head, over his face. He’s pacing, too, unable to look at you once again. It would be all too easy to take his own trousers off, let his dick out of its cloth prison and fuck you into the sofa. He has to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself doing just that.
“Kookie,” you coo. “Aren’t you going to touch me? I need you… No one touches me like you do.”
Jungkook is open-mouthed and he has to turn away. He growls, deep in his throat, and gently places his fists on the kitchen counter, when what he really wants to do is smash straight through it. His whole body is tense, fighting itself in an agony of indecision. He needs you to stop; he’s sure you won’t. Not when you’re having this effect on him. He should’ve seen it coming. He knew you wouldn’t take the news well; for some reason, he didn’t expect you to immediately be so defiant. You were always so pliant and obedient for him. But then, this isn’t really his rule and you and his coach didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.
He freezes when he hears the unmistakeable squelch of you plunging your fingers in your wet heat. Then you moan. Then you whimper.
“Jungkook, please.”
He can barely control his breathing as he stands, still with his back to you, unable to block the sound of you from his ears. He should be the one drawing those moans from you; he should be the reason your breathing is hitched.
He decides quickly that you have a point. He can’t come but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything he likes. He crosses the space to the sofa in three large steps and forces your hand away from you. He doesn’t see the expression on your face as you look up; he’s too busy staring at his next meal. He squeezes your thighs hard and lowers his mouth to you.
“Fuck, yes,” you breathe and it goes straight to his dick.
He moans loudly as he licks from your core to your clit, drinking you in. He licks through your folds, not wanting to miss a drop. He swirls his tongue around your clit before sealing his lips and sucking hard; you grab at his hair and he flicks his eyes to you but your head is tipped back, your back arching off the sofa. He pulls your thighs, bringing you even closer, smothering him, burying him but if he can’t breathe, he doesn’t notice. He notices the pitch of your whines tilt; he notices your breath come quicker; he notices your thighs twitching under his hands; he notices you tugging harder and harder at his hair. He watches you as he works, alternately swirling his tongue across your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking, until you’re screaming, your body writhing, shuddering under the waves of your orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears repeatedly, almost sure he hears you saying the same, but he can’t move his mouth from your lips; all that fresh arousal dripping from you has his name on it.
You squirm and bring your legs together, your feet pushing against his shoulders and he relents, shifting backwards but still gripping your thighs tight.
“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you but fuck, I fucking love your cunt.”
His hands move higher, his thumbs spreading your lips, running up and down, the slick noises they make like music to his ears. He whines as he drops his head to your thigh with a heavy sigh. He squeezes his eyes tight shut for a moment, trying not to lose all control even as his cock aches in his pants, desperate for you.
While he’s trying to keep it together, you extricate yourself from his grip and sink onto the floor. While he’s off-guard, you spread his legs and slot yourself between them. It’s only when his dick jumps as you slide your hands up his thighs that he realises what is happening. He leaps up and away from you in one, quick, fluid motion.
“No, no, no,” he mutters, hands tangling in his hair, twisting his T-shirt, gripping the kitchen counter, anything to stop them wandering to the bulge in his trousers. He’s painfully hard now, twitching with almost no provocation; his restraint is hanging by a thread.
“Jungkook,” you call for him, still kneeling on the floor. “Kookie, come here, let me help you.”
He growls and takes a deep breath. If he even looks at you right now, he knows he’ll snap.
“I’m going to shower.”
He has to get out, get away from you, anywhere will do.
“You better not wank in there!” you call after him. “Or I’m going to be really upset!”
He chuckles bitterly; as if he would ever choose his hand over your sweet mouth. He strips quickly and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as low as it’ll go and the power on full blast. He gasps as a strong stream of icy water hits him; he shudders and shivers and forces himself to stand still. He’s panting and his skin turns red under the blast but he can’t move, not until he’s flaccid, not until he’s stopped thinking about your beautiful pussy and your soft, hot mouth and no-! Enough of this. He calls to mind all his least favourite things, conjuring up the worst images he can, disgusting, horrible, anything. He just has to stop thinking about you.
When he’s finally showered and clean and soft, he leaves the bathroom. It’s not late, but you’re already sitting up in bed, naked as you always are, and he groans, trying to avoid looking at you.
“Hey now, that’s not fair,” you tell him, sulking with an exaggerated pout as he takes the towel from his waist and rubs it over his hair.
He almost chokes on his indignation.
“Not fair? Me not being fair? And what do you call that, out there? Is that fair, huh? And this?” He gestures to you, chest on display, arms just slightly squeezing your breasts together, as if you think he won’t be able to tell. “Is this fair?”
Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he sits next to you on the bed; he simply will not survive the next four weeks if he can’t get you on-side. He has to stop you reaching out to touch his cheek; he’s only just been able to lose his erection, he’s not sure he can manage another.
“I’m serious, y/n, I cannot do this.”
He’s not sure he can look at you anymore. The thought of spending a whole night next to your naked form, your soft skin pressed against him… He can’t. He can’t even think it without feeling a stir in his groin.
“I can’t do this. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”
Never in his life has he been more grateful to have one. He’d sleep on the sofa or the floor if he had to, but, if he’s doing all this to improve his fighting, he needs to keep his sleep up, too.
“Jungkook! Don’t leave me!”
When he risks a look at you, you’re wide-eyed and open-mouthed, dismayed. He doesn’t ever want to be the cause of that face; his heart aches. Maybe this would affect your relationship after all. He returns to sit on the edge of the bed and takes your hand. He kisses your palm.
“I can’t- I… I can’t even look at you, right now, without wanting to jump you.” He says quietly, sadly. “I just-“
“I can put some clothes on?”
Your hopeful face squeezes his heart and he wishes that would be enough.
“No, baby, thank you but we both know that isn’t going to help. I know what’s under there.”
“So, we’re not even going to be able to sleep together for the next four weeks?”
“No, we will, I promise. I just… Right now, I just need to get away from you.”
He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, but fails. He misses you already.
“Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”
Jungkook isn’t sure. He’s not sure the one thread of sanity he’s clinging to will last, but he has to give you something.
“Of course, you can,” he answers, with only a little hesitation. “But please… Be nice…”
You take his face in his hands and he shivers. You kiss him once, firmly, and then again, softly, sighing against his mouth. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss you again, wants to melt into your mouth and roll your tongue with his. Then he feels temptation in his groin and has to pull away.
“Night night, my little custard cream.”
“Night night, my love.”
He leaves, and shuts himself in the spare room, wondering just how on earth either of you will make it through the next 29 days.
THREE WEEKS TO GO
Jungkook isn’t home so you’re taking the opportunity for a little Me Time (courtesy of your favourite rabbit). It’s been a week since the last time you came (courtesy of Jungkook) and you’re on edge. You feel a little guilty for the way you behaved, but you’ve been good this week in penance, even though you’re already missing him terribly.
At night, when he wraps himself around you, his hard chest against your back, his strong arms holding you tight, you feel a steady pulse in your core. You want desperately to shift, just push your hips back a little, bring his hand to cup your breast, do something to address your need of him. It’s worse than usual because, of course, you always want most what you can’t have. Isn’t that a universal truth? Last night, you even wished he would go and sleep in the spare room again; having him so close to you, knowing that you can’t touch him like you wanted to was beginning to get unbearable.
Hence, Me Time.
Jungkook is out and not due back soon so you have plenty of time to take things slow. Or at least, that’s what you intend. You take a nice, long, hot bath; apply your favourite body lotion: a rich, thick, cocoa butter that makes you feel expensive; you potter around the apartment for a while in your sexiest lingerie – there’s no one to see you, but it makes you feel sexy anyway. You think about Jungkook. You think about his hair, too short for your preference at the moment; you like it a little longer, a little wavier, giving you plenty to grab onto at the nape of his neck just as at the crown; you like it when it flops into his face and he pushes it back; you like when he lets you plait it and style it, just for the two of you, just for fun.
You think about his beautiful, brown eyes: huge and wide, bright and shining, so open and innocent. You think about the way he looks at you sometimes, like you’re his entire world, like he’s looking at the most beautiful, peaceful sight he’s ever seen. You think about the way he looks at you at other times: like you’re prey; like he’s calculating exactly the right way to destroy you; his eyes dark, black, piercing; eyes that silently command and will be obeyed.
You think about his mouth: his soft, pink lips and two straight rows of perfect white teeth; you think about his mouth on yours, the unyielding pressure of his lip ring, the hard bite of his teeth on your bottom lip, his soft, wet tongue rolling against yours; his soft, wet tongue swirling around your nipple; his soft, wet tongue licking through your folds, flicking across your clit, his lips tight around you as he sucks. You think about his long fingers, their reach; his strong hands and how they direct and control you, pinning you down and lifting you up.
You think about his cock, the prettiest you’d ever seen (though you weren’t surprised, given the rest of him); in perfect proportion, neither too long nor too thick, a slight, gentle curve, smooth but for one thick vein running the length of it. It makes your mouth water just to think of it; your pussy throbs, missing it and you settle on the bed. You can feel the crotch of your underwear is already sticky and your heart is already thumping but you’re still telling yourself that you’re going to take this slowly, because you have plenty of time.
You discard your bra, teasing your nipples beneath it, twisting at the barbells that run through each of them, remembering the way Jungkook had reacted the first time he saw them, as if it were Christmas morning and they were a brand-new puppy and a skateboard. You slip a hand down behind the waistline of your knickers and exhale sharply as you spread your juices across your clit. You’re aching now, with desire, with frustration but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You let your fingers work slowly, gently, dipping down between your lips to your entrance, exploring your folds, teasing and tapping your clit. It was almost like stepping into a bath: enveloped in warmth as blood rushed to the surface of your skin, cocooned in pleasure as it radiates outwards from your core to the tips of your toes. Goosebumps spread as a shiver rushes down your spine.
Then you get out your rabbit and the lube and shuffle out of your underwear. You coat the toy with lube, wipe your hand against yourself and turn it on, letting it rest against you for a moment, cycling through the settings until you reach your favourite. You think, not for the first time, as you slip it inside you, smoothly, easily, how much you wish you had one of these moulded from Jungkook’s cock. He thought you were joking the first time you said it, but you weren’t then and aren’t now. You want to be able to have him inside you even when he wasn’t around – or at times like this when he is around but isn’t allowed inside you. Nothing compares to him and while this toy might get the job done, it will never be the same.
The little rabbit ears press intently against your clit as you angle it inside you and start to rock your hips, working out a long, soft moan. You tip your head back and close your eyes, focusing on the coiling pressure in your abdomen. You cycle to another setting – higher, faster, more insistent now – and whimper with every breath as your climax comes closer.
“God, I’ve missed that noise.”
You sit up with a jolt to see Jungkook at the bedroom door, eyes roving hungrily over your naked body.
“Jungkook,” you gasp. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”
He shrugs.
“Changed ’em... Though I might be sorry I did.”
“I thought you were going to be out... But since you’re here...”
You beckon him to the bed as you switch off the toy. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sigh as he approaches you on the bed. You’re surprised; you thought he would refuse, hold back, protest even a little. Maybe this would be easier than you thought.
He looks at the rabbit, appraising.
“How does it compare, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a smirk just ghosting over his lips.
“It doesn’t, Kookie.” You flop backwards onto the mattress again. “Nothing compares to you.”
“Let me help you.”
You sigh with relief, waiting to hear his trousers unzip or the shuffle of cloth as he undresses but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the quiet whirring of vibration as Jungkook turns the rabbit back on. He chooses a different setting – short, intense pulses – and slips the toy back inside you, pushing the ears hard into your clit, forcing a choked moan from your throat.
“Jungkook... Kookie, no. I want you.”
The look on his face is fierce but softens when he looks into your eyes. He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.
“You know you can’t have me now, baby. Stop playing dirty.”
He takes a hand and pushes low on your stomach as he rocks the toy inside you and changes the setting: insistent, hard vibration that almost sets your teeth chattering.
“Fuck,” you whisper as your walls start to clench and all your muscles tighten and you’re whimpering, mewling, seconds from climax, your breath catching in your throat. You’re a band stretched to its limits and just as you’re about to snap, Jungkook pulls the toy from you and sits back on the bed, not touching you.
“Wh-.. I...”
You look at him, dazed and confused, as he stands up and takes the toy with him out of the room.
“Where are you going?” you call after him, your voice weak and strangled.
You’re itching with frustration and impatience and when he returns, only a minute later, you turn to him, outraged. He’s empty-handed and he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and tucks your hair behind your ear sweetly.
“What are you doing?” you ask, still breathless, heart still pounding in your chest.
He leans closer to you, resting on his forearm on your chest, lightly crushing you beneath his weight as he takes your hand in his and directs it to his crotch, where you can feel his dick, semi-hard under his trousers.
“I’m showing you how hard this is,” he whispers menacingly in your ear. “You’re still not playing fair, little miss.”
He stands and walks out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at you.
“If I don’t get to come, you don’t get to come!” he calls.
You give a little, angry shriek and throw a pillow at him, which misses by miles, and you storm out after him.
“I did not sign up for that!” you shout, giving him a shove.
He grins at you and raises his eyebrows.
“What’s mine is yours, baby.”
“No way! No way! You know the second you leave, I can just make myself come.”
“That’s true,” he admits as he checks his watch, “but I’m not leaving again tonight.”
Furious now, you move closer to him, your hands on his hips. You lick your lips and move a hand between you, palming his erection. His eyes flutter closed.
“Two can play at this game, Jeon,” you hiss, sliding your hand between his trousers and his boxers, running your finger up his turgid length.
“Don’t call me Jeon.”
“Isn’t it your name?”
He tips his head back and bites his lip as you finally breach his boxers, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.
“You only call me Jeon when you’re pissed,” he chokes out.
“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”
His head tips forward again and he looks at you as you sink to your knees, pulling his clothes down with him. You see him swallow hard.
“Not sure you thought this through, did you?” you ask, swiping your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum. “Here you are, all hard and ready for me...”
You take a hand through your lips, sweeping up your arousal and spreading it on the head of his dick.
“And me all ready for you...”
You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed. You can see his fists clenching on either of him.
“Y/n...” he groans, quiet and strangled.
“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches. “You started this,” you remind him, as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. “I was going to be nice to you, but you had to go and spoil it.” You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans.
“Fuck, I miss you,” he whines, his voice high and tight as you run your tongue back to his head, enveloping him in your mouth once again. “God, fuck.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one. Jungkook’s fist moves to your hair, gripping tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks.
“No, no, no, stop! Stop.”
He pushes you back by the shoulders and stands, his breathing ragged, looking up at the ceiling and blinking hard. You let him stand there, recovering; you stay kneeling at his feet.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, each more aggressive than the last. He pulls his boxers and his trousers back on and looks at you, eyes wild. “No.”
“Kookie... Please.”
You pout up at him, put your hands on his thighs, and shuffle just an inch closer.
“No. Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t.” He looks at you, alternately desperate and resolved and then shakes his head. “Baby, god, I want to. You know I want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
His hand is in your hair again, gently pulling you upwards, pulling you closer. He kisses your cheek and your lips, each little peck lasting a little longer than the last, until he just barely parts his mouth and you grab his bottom lip in your teeth. He moans and pulls away.
“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He swallows hard and looks skyward again, praying for strength. Then he repeats his no before stalking off into the spare room, cursing under his breath.
You sigh, more frustrated than ever, and, having spotted your stolen sex toy on the bathroom counter, you go back to finish what you started.
TWO WEEKS TO GO
Jungkook is sleeping in the spare room again. He says it’s because you’re not to be trusted, but what he means is that he isn’t to be trusted. He could barely trust himself around you before, but two weeks into the ban, he can’t risk taking any chances. Especially not with the way you’ve been behaving.
Apparently, so you tell him, there’s very little evidence to suggest that sex before a sporting event has as negative effect on performance.
“I even read,” you say, not for the first time, “that not having sex for a while lowers your testosterone so it’s not just that having sex isn’t bad, it might even be good! Don’t you want that?”
He’s trying to block you out. You’ve already told him this and he’s already told you that he’s doing as he’s told. He focuses on the TV, trying to get invested in the storyline, trying to care about the characters while you pester him relentlessly. He has to grit his teeth together and breathe carefully.
“Don’t ignore me, my little hobnob.”
You always pull out that biscuit when you think he needs to lighten up. He tries not to grin, not very successfully, because it’s such a ridiculous name – who calls a biscuit that, really? Then you slip your hands around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.
“I miss you,” you say, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.
He sighs, dropping his head, carefully trying to revel in your touch without giving in too far.
“I miss you too, love. Just two more weeks.”
You sigh, aggravated, and sit back.
“Yeah, two more weeks; we’re only halfway through. We have to do all of this all over again. Is that really what you want?”
“No, of course it’s not!”
Of course, he doesn’t want it. What he wants is to pin you down and eat you out ’til you’re screaming and then he wants to fuck you like his life depends on it, spend himself on you so hard he literally can’t move. What he wants is the opposite of this. Why can’t you understand that?
He turns to you, shifting his body around and reaches for your hands.
“Of course, it’s not what I want. I want you all the time. Why do you think I’m sleeping in the spare room again? I can barely stand sitting with you like this; every part of me is screaming at me to just take yo-“
“Then do it! Do it! I’m telling you, the science is on our side!”
He has to take a deep breath; he knows you may well be right. And he doesn’t like the thought of doing all this for no reason, for, if the article you read is right, the possibility that he’s actually less strong, less powerful in the ring, but he’s on a path and he has to stick to it.
“I’m doing what Coach says,” he tells you, sounding more resolved than he is. “I hired him for a reason and he’s already said he can notice a difference. This fight is so important and I have to follow him to the letter. I am sorry. I am…”
He is what?
He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. There aren’t words for this or, if there are, he doesn’t know them. He leans forward and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. He knows he shouldn’t, knows how dangerous this is, but he misses you so much and he’s so upset and you’re so upset and he has to do something.
You scoot forward and sit yourself in his lap. His heart hammers in his chest, anxiety or desire or a heady mix of both, he’s not sure but his mind is slipping away from him and he’s not sure he cares anymore. He wraps his arms around you as his tongue finds yours. You’ve hardly had this much of each other over the last week and he’s ravenous. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue and he feels a stirring in his crotch. He can feel you, just above him, and he wants to push you down, roll your hips over his, but he daren’t; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself if you do.
He's breathless with the need of you and it catches in his throat as you grind into him. He moans and bites hard at your bottom lip; you keep going, kissing him hard so that he can’t speak.
Jungkook gathers up his strength and pulls back, holding you tight in place so you can’t chase after him. He’s breathing heavily and his hand trembles as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“Y/n…” He doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a warning; he doesn’t have any more words to follow. There isn’t anything he can say or do that will make this situation anything other than torture. Nothing will make you feel better than being fucked by him, fucked hard, nothing more and nothing less. He knows because he feels the same. He’s almost dizzy with desire; he’s giddy but clinging with desperation to the last remnants of his self-control. There’s a tiny voice at the back of his head proud of him for having come this far, but he can’t listen to it because we all know what comes before a fall and he can’t afford a fall like this.
It's the title. It’ll be his first title. This win will put him on the map. This win will establish him as a real, professional boxer, one to beat; this will be, he hopes, the first of many belts, many titles. His coach has real faith in him, he believes he can make it to world champion if he works hard enough. And Jungkook wants it. He wants to work; he wants to win. And now, he has to win. Losing is not an option. And once he has won, once this is over – in two, long, painful weeks – it’ll have all been worth it and he’ll be able to have you six ways from Sunday, every day of the week.
“Please don’t stop,” you whimper and the open, desperate pleading of your glistening eyes goes straight to his dick. “Please, please.”
He’s had to resist your pleading before; he’s even enjoyed resisting your cries and pleas, but that’s when he’s been in control; that’s when he’s been ramping up to wrecking you once, twice, three times, as many times as you can take. This is ramping up to nothing and your pleading only makes him feel broken.
You bring your face to his again and he can’t back away. You kiss him with urgency, running your hands over his body beneath his T-shirt, teasing his nipples until he’s fully hard, straining against his boxers, pressing against your crotch. You strip off your own top and Jungkook’s resolve crumbles. He dips his head, lifting you slightly from his lap to kiss your breasts, to flick his tongue over your nipples and swirl them in his mouth, one at a time, until they’re tight and hard. He bites hungrily and you mewl above him, whining his name. It’s like heaven to him and he can’t believe he hasn’t had this for two weeks; the two weeks stretching out in front of you are paling, forgotten in some faraway corner of his mind.
He's kidding himself that he can last a little longer with you lifted up like this, your hips no longer grinding your core into him. He keeps his mouth occupied at your chest and squeezes your glutes in his hands, then slipping them into the wide legs of your shorts. When he pulls your underwear to the side with one hand, and slips the fingers of his other hand into your warm, waiting slip, he sighs with satisfaction. You’re tight and soft and so, so wet.
You take his face in your hands and pull him back to your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and heavy breathing, messy and far from pretty but you’re each so desperate for the other that nothing else matters. You kiss his cheek and his jaw and bite down on his earlobe, whining breathily as he presses insistently against your front wall, each curl of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. He slips his other hand behind your underwear and spreads your slick over your clit, rubbing insistently, knowing you’re getting close. He can tell by the sounds you’re making, sounds he’d work out of you every day of his life if he could.
“God, Kookie, baby, yes.”
You plant your lips on his neck, muffling your whines and whimpers as the heat builds inside you. Jungkook groans, shivering as you suck on his neck, as your cunt clenches his fingers tight, as your legs shake on either side of him. He doesn’t stop, can’t stop even when you’re tugging his hair, even when you’re squirming, even when you’re screaming his name. He’s far away now, lost in the bliss of your velvet heat. He’s insistent and you’re so sensitive that he pulls another orgasm from you with a cry and a shudder that takes your whole body. He’s so focused on you as a way of distracting himself from his own intense, aching desire. He’s painfully hard; he can feel the spreading circle of pre-cum on his boxers; he’s not entirely sure he won’t come even if you don’t touch him.
Then you flop against him, spent, and your hand grazes his crotch and he jerks violently.
“Fuck!” he gasps and tears prick in his eyes. He can’t look at you; he stares far away, out of the window, trying to stop his dick throbbing, trying to slow his heartrate, trying without success to calm himself.
“Kookie,” you whimper, your voice shaky. “Let me-“
“No,” he whispers, no strength in his voice, no strength anywhere in his body except his stiff, swollen cock. He closes his eyes and he can feel a tear trickle down his cheek, followed by your lips as you kiss it away. He flinches at the contact and whimpers when you stroke his hair.
“I can help you,” you whisper but he doesn’t hear you.
He’s lost, his mind strangled with desperate desire. His brain is whirring, swimming, floating away from him; his fingers tingle and shake and his heart thumps erratically in his chest. He’s never been this excruciatingly turned on before and knowing that he can’t see it through is heart-breaking.
You move your hand towards the waistband of his trousers and he grabs your wrist. He’s gripping so tightly, he’s sure it’ll hurt, but he can’t be gentle now.
“Don’t-,” he starts but his words are swallowed by a sob.
You press your forehead against his and he can’t stop the whimper as you kiss him, so light, so soft. He holds your face in his hands, barely even really touching, trying not to tangle them in your hair and pull you closer. You stay like that, just looking at each other for a minute or more, his eyes never leaving yours. He knows he needs to calm down, knows he should be calming down now that you’re still but his breathing doesn’t settle and he can hear the thump of his heart and the roar of his blood in his ears.
“Baby,” he says eventually, his voice croaky and hoarse. He has to do something and it has to be something drastic. He needs a shock to the system, a full reset. “I need-… I need you to get something for me.” And he needs you to get it because he’s not sure he can walk, not sure he can move at all.
“Anything.”
“Ice. And water.”
“Huh?”
“Ice and water; I need a big, big glass- a jug of iced water please.” His voice wobbles at the end and he’s trying so hard to regulate his breathing, trying so hard not to feel the pulsing in his underwear.
“Ok…”
You shift on his lap but he can’t let you go. His fingers twine in your hair and you have to pry them out to allow you to get up.
With the relief of you off him, the air around him clears and he jumps up, taking off his T-shirt and pushing his trousers to the floor. Once again needing to do something with his hands while he waits for you, he holds them out to the side, not daring to let them anywhere near his erection, fists clenching and unclenching. He feels like he might really be on the edge of a heart attack or an aneurysm. He feels abnormal, like nothing he’s ever felt before. He could keel over.
He can hear you, the ice clinking in the glass and he taps his feet, impatient. When you hand it over, he takes it with both hands and up-ends it all over himself.
“Jungkook!” you cry, as water splashes all over the floor and the sofa and the coffee table, but it sounds distant, the shock of the water temporarily sending him far away. He’s gasping and shivering and blinking hard, then screwing his eyes tight.
“I need you to go,” he tell you, still unable to look at you.
“Go where?”
“Anywhere, baby, literally anywhere,” his voice is still wobbling, his teeth chattering. “If we’re still in the same room in five seconds, I think I’m going to die. Come or die, either way, I don’t know but please, please just go.”
“Ok, I’m going, I’m going.”
He can barely hear you; he scrubs his hands over his face, swearing over and over and over again, begging the universe to let him calm down, to make these next two weeks go as quickly as they possibly can.
ONE WEEK TO GO
Jungkook hasn’t taken any more risks since that night. And he has also told you, almost every day since, to behave yourself, to stop doing that; he’s asked if you’re trying to kill him and the truth is: yes. You’re sick of it now; it takes almost nothing to get you hot: just the thought of him, randomly popping into your head as you’re trying to send emails at work, and you’re getting wet. You can’t sleep anymore. He’s still in the spare room but you lie in your bed, thinking about him lying in the other bed, and you can’t help yourself. You make yourself come again and again but it’s never enough. You can’t believe that he’s not only managed to ruin all other men for you but also your own damn self. You know how to push all your buttons but it’s not the same when it’s you doing it, it's not the same without Jungkook between your thighs.
You know there’s only a week to go, but it’s too long and you’re too frustrated and you’re reaching your boiling point. So, you do what any other sane person would do: naked protest. You stop wearing clothes in the house entirely, getting dressed only to go out and stripping as soon as the front door shuts behind you. When you first walk into the kitchen as Jungkook is eating breakfast, he chokes on his cereal and you have to slap him on the back; you feel his eyes following you as you make yourself a cup of tea and some porridge.
Now he’s just ignoring you. He’s doing his best to stay out of any room you are in, but that’s fine. It’s a small apartment and you’ve hidden his noise-cancelling headphones, so you know he can hear you when you moan and whine, wanton and gratuitous, as you do your best to fix your frustration.
He still hasn’t broken. You’re impressed, honestly. You didn’t think that he would be able to hold out this long and, as aggravated as you are, as deeply, unutterably frustrated as you are, you can’t help but admire his self-control. Unable to be in the same room as you, he texts you and tells you that his trainer is impressed with his performance and is confident about the fight; he believes he can win. He had fucking better win is what you think, but you text back something a little more supportive.
Six days before the fight and Jungkook is in the shower. You’re at a loose end, so you decide to join him. You thank the lord that he didn’t lock the door; he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice you there until your hands are on his waist. He cries out in surprise and goes to turn around but you hold him still, kissing his shoulder and his back and the nape of his neck. You run your hands up his abs, grab his fulsome pecs, and peeking around his shoulder, you’re delighted to see he’s already hard.
“Were you about to masturbate in this shower?” you ask him, only half-serious.
“No,” he groans. “This is how badly I want you, y/n. Why are you making this so hard?”
You giggle at his choice of words and he growls deep in his throat. He turns around and cages you in against the screen with his hands either side of you.
“In six days,” he tells you, his voice low, face serious, eyes pinning you to the spot. “In six days, I am going to fucking destroy you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week; I’m going to fill you up so completely, my cum never stops dripping out of you; I’m going to make you scream so loud, our neighbours want to call the police; I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you again, then I’m going to fuck you some more and I’m still not going to be done. I’m going to take this cock,” he says, grabbing it at the base and hissing hard through his teeth as he does, “and I’m going to wreck your pretty little throat and your pretty little pussy, is that what you want?”
You can only nod, mute with desire, as you can feel arousal drip down your legs and you shiver, despite the warm, steamy atmosphere. Jungkook nudges his nose against yours, eyes still black as pitch, and he whispers in your ear.
“In six days.”
Then he leans back and stands back under the stream of water.
“Now get the fuck out.”
You’re so overwhelmed, you just do as he says and he follows behind you, shutting the door – and locking it – as soon as you’ve crossed the threshold. You blink hard and, as you come to your senses, you feel too many things at once: hot, frustrated, desperate, livid, heartbroken, a little bit intimidated, a lot excited, and over and above everything else, impatient.
Jungkook stands in the shower, turning the water icy again. He’s shaking, trembling all over, and before he can get himself under control, he’s sobbing. Hands against the tiles, shivering with cold and shuddering through ragged breaths, he drops his head and cries. Cries because he’s so frustrated, because he misses you so much, because he’s so tired, because he hates disappointing you, because he’s anxious, because he’s not sleeping well at night without you, because a tiny, paranoid thought niggles at him that this is going to make you leave him, because he can’t live without you and if he didn’t know it before, he knows it now.
He cries under the cold water for so long that it stops feeling cold against his skin and when he finally steps out of the shower, his skin is livid red and icy to the touch.
He goes to stay at a friend’s house that night.
“Look, I love you so much and I miss you so much that I can’t be around you,” reads his text. “Just thinking about you makes me want to die a seriously Little Death. The fight will be over soon; just six more days and I promise, I’ll give you everything you want and more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please, please wait for me.”
“I love you, too, my little Bourbon,” you reply. “But I might never forgive you for this.”
“I promise, I’ll make you forgive AND forget, just wait ’til Saturday.”
He stares at his phone, wishing the messages said something different. He knows you’re joking, thinks you’re joking, hopes you’re joking, at least a little bit.
He sends a string of different kiss emojis and you toss your phone down beside you. Considering your small arsenal of sex toys without hope, you pick one at random, knowing even before you’ve started that it’s not even going to touch the sides of your desire. Your need for Jungkook has become a yawning chasm that stretches further than the eye can see; and it is a need for Jungkook specifically. For one mad moment a few days ago, you had considered the possibility of going out and getting fucked by someone else, but the second you thought it, it repulsed you: you don’t need a dick, you need his dick; you need his mouth; you need his hands. You need him, no one and nothing else. Accept no imitations. Which is really rather a pain right now.
You try to focus on your body, on the pleasure building there, the pleasant thrum in your core as you work with the vibrator in your folds and against your clit. You try to think about nothing, removing Jungkook from the equation, just emptying your mind and focusing on the physical sensations of your body.
It doesn’t work and you get so frustrated that you throw the vibrator in the bin and then, that not being enough, scoop up the others and chuck them in there, too. What’s the point of them, you think to yourself bitterly.
These had better be the fastest six days of your life or you aren’t sure you’ll survive.
FIGHT NIGHT
It was finally here. Jungkook had been working towards this for months, years, for his whole life in a way. It was both the pinnacle of his career and the first step of what he hoped would be a very long journey to the top. The final fight in his bid to be The Ring’s Super Middleweight champion: his opponent, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez. Jungkook has him on reach and height, and he’s also lighter, which he thinks will be to his advantage. Canelo might be a slugger, but that’s where Jungkook excels. People think that his lightness is a disadvantage, that he doesn’t have the strength to throw hard enough punches, that he’s weak, that he’s Amir Khan. But he’s better than that. He’s agile and yes, slighter than other super middleweights, but he’s also strong and he’s also powerful and there’s nothing like seeing the surprise in his opponent’s face when he got his first punch in and they realised that for themselves. Of course, now he’s getting better known, he’s losing that element of surprise but it’s hardly the only thing he’s got in his keep.
But he’s not thinking about that. Today, just like all the other days this week, he’s thinking about you. His coach keeps telling him that he’s strong, that he seems focused, that he seems strong, but Jungkook isn’t entirely convinced. All he can think about is you; his mind is already beyond the fight and he’s anxious that this is going to be his undoing, that he’s going to have survived these past four weeks only to be so keyed up and desperate in the ring that he loses.
He wishes he could see you, just for five minutes, but you’ve been banned from his presence on fight days. You’re also banned from the gym on training days. Jungkook agrees with Coach that that’s probably for the best but it doesn’t mean he likes it. You are a distraction, there’s no denying it, but today, he really feels like he needs it. He needs you. Even an ounce, even a drop of you will do.
He pulls out his phone and dials your number.
“Kookie! Are you ok?” You sound concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“We never speak on fight days; I thought something might be wrong.”
Jungkook sighs and leans his head back against the wall.
“Something is wrong: I miss you.”
“Jungkook! Don’t scare me like that!”
He laughs and knows he was right to call you; just hearing your voice is like a balm to his fraying nerves. He already feels more relaxed.
“I’m sorry, love,” he replies. “I just wanted to hear your voice; we haven’t spoken this week.”
“I know and whose fault is that?”
“I know, I know, it’s mine, but I can’t wait to see you. Even if I lose this fight, as long as I’ve got you, I’m good, I’m a winner.”
“Hey now, you’re not going to lose, my little oat and raisin cook-”
“You don’t like that flavour cookie, do you?”
“Well, I don’t, no, but I thought I’d go with the least sexy flavour, in respect of how easy it is to get a ‘rise’ out of you at the moment.”
He snorts, appreciative of the weird, little effort.
“I think you’re right: raisins are not sexy but cookies are sexy biscuits, aren’t they? By default? Sexier than normal biscuits, right?”
“So you’re saying we need a raisin biscuit that isn’t a cookie.”
“Yeah.
“Garibaldi?”
Jungkook laughs.
“I don’t even know what that is, love, but sure, it doesn’t sound sexy.”
“Ok, then, I know you’re not going to lose, my little garibaldi.”
He laughs again and tells you that his coach has said the same thing (“… not in the same words”). He wishes he could stay on the phone with you longer; having barely spoken to you this week, he misses your voice, your presence, your conversation, just as much if not more than he misses your body. He sees his coach crossing the room, approaching him and he rings off reluctantly, but relieved he got even a minute with you before tonight.
He’s pacing in the dressing room; it’s almost time. He considered asking you not to come to this one; he’s not sure that he’ll be able to focus knowing you’re so much as in the room. The usual rule is that you’re allowed to attend but you have to sit somewhere in the back, somewhere he won’t be able to see you; he’s not sure if that’ll be enough tonight. Coach is talking to him, trying to hype him up, but he can’t hear a word. He just knows he needs to end this fight as soon as he possibly can and that means not going out there all guns blazing like a reckless thug in a bar fight; it means taking a step back (and he physically does it, takes one step back), taking a deep breath, and remembering the strategy, remembering the training. He’s ready for this (“You’re ready for this, JK,” Coach cries); he’s going to destroy Canelo (“You’re going to smash it, mate; you’re going to destroy him!”); and then he’s going to destroy you and himself in that order.
Canelo seems thrown off by Jungkook at the start: his size, maybe, his strength, his Southpaw stance despite being right-handed, Jungkook can’t be sure, but he wins the first round decisively and it’s exactly how he needs it to go: he likes to be the underdog but he likes an early lead. Spite and competitiveness can get you surprisingly far in life. He was right that Canelo is heavy and Jungkook is able to run rings around him; he thinks he might genuinely be able to get this wrapped up early, if he can just manage to hit him hard enough.
That turns out to be an ambitious goal and, halfway through, he’s slightly down on points. He’s frustrated; he can’t quite work out why his punches aren’t landing. Are they really not connecting? It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Are the judges just not seeing them? He’s not sure what he can do about that. He spits out the water Coach squirted in his mouth and he’s nodding at his advice. As he stands to get ready for the seventh round, his eyes roam the crowd, not looking for anything, just looking. Then his stomach flips. He sees you.
You’re sitting in your seat, anxious and uncomfortable. It always makes you anxious to see him fight, even though you know he’s trained for this and he’s as safe as anyone else would be in the same situation, but you flinch every time Canelo lands a punch. Jungkook hasn’t lost a fight all year and you’re surprised to see him losing – even if not by many points. You hadn’t really considered the possibility of him losing, because he doesn’t. He’s Jungkook. He’s the Baby Assassin of Busan. He doesn’t lose.
But things go from bad to worse. The next rounds see Jungkook falter, making uncharacteristic mistakes and misjudgements that cost him points. As the bell rings at the end of the tenth round, you can see the frustration in Jungkook’s face from here. Your stomach twists; you know how much this fight means to him and how upset he’ll be if he loses. You try to rouse yourself; it’s not over ’til it’s over. There are two rounds to go and he’s not so far behind he can’t make it up. There’s still a chance.
When Jungkook stands for the eleventh round, you see him scanning the crowd in your direction. You panic, should you hide? Duck? Cover your face? Too late; his eyes find yours and the second stretches into eternity, just you and him, before he’s tapped by the ref and he turns away. You shouldn’t have come. You’re a distraction. You’re going to make it worse.
Jungkook is going to lose.
The bell rings and Jungkook feels sprightly, buoyed, suddenly less tired than he had done in the last round. He dances energetically around the ring, keeping Canelo moving, keeping him throwing punches and missing, throwing more punches and missing again and again. You’re on the edge of your seat; this is the Jungkook you know. All at once, he lands three punches on Canelo and leaps back out of his retaliatory reach. Then he settles in a bit closer and lets Canelo land a couple on him; this… isn’t the Jungkook you know. You can’t work out what he’s doing; you’ve not seen him do this before. You turn to the clock, watching the seconds of the round tick by. Thirty seconds left. You check the points. Jungkook still behind.
This is more like it, Jungkook thinks. He can end it. He knows he can. He just has to let Canelo let his guard down a little more, tire him out a little further. Jungkook is not letting this get to twelve rounds. It won’t happen. Not on his watch.
You’re so focused on the screen: the points, the time, that you miss what causes the crowd to suddenly surge and scream. Canelo is standing with the referee in front of him, looking a little dazed. The ref lets them continue and the round commences again. Before Canelo has even blinked, Jungkook has hit him with a left hook that you know he put all his weight into. Canelo falls to the mat and doesn’t get back up. The ref starts counting. The crowd count with him.
“8… 9… 10!”
The ref waves a wide cross in front of him; the commentator declares it a knockout; and the crowd is screaming. Jungkook’s arms are in the air, his coach lumbering into the ring to envelope him in a hug, along with everyone else, it seems, the ring suddenly full of people. You lose sight of Jungkook. You’re on your feet, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of you, who are doing the very same thing. Tiny red fists emerge from the mêlée and it’s him; you exhale a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. You’re desperate to get to him. It’s over. The fight’s finally over. And he won. By knockout after a hard fight. This is absolutely the best outcome, better even than you’d hoped for. You bet he’s on cloud nine and you can’t wait to join him there.
Jungkook is buzzing. He’s done it. It’s finally over. And that means there’s only one thing on his mind. He can’t focus, is barely there as they hand him his belt, as he lifts it above his head to show the screaming crowd. People are congratulating him, slapping his back, rubbing his hair; at some point, someone takes his hands and rips off his gloves – he’s not sure where they end up. The fight was televised and a man with a microphone approaches him. He tries hard to focus on the questions, answering as quickly as he can and then the presenter asks just what he’s going to do now he’s won his first Super Middleweight title.
“Well,” he answers, “I haven’t come in four weeks so I’m going to go find my girl and fuck her in the dressing room ’til neither of us can walk straight!”
He points right at you, flicks a peace sign to the crowd and jogs back the way he entered 45 long minutes ago.
He keeps jogging all the way to the dressing room, stopping for precisely nobody. Coach tries to grab his attention, tries to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs him off. Wild horses can’t keep him from you now.
He swings open the dressing room, for a moment disappointed that you’re not there before him, but, of course you wouldn’t be. He’ll have to wait; it’s been four weeks, he can cope with another four minutes. Probably. He paces back and forth, back and forth; he chugs half a bottle of water; he almost wipes the sweat off his body, dries his hair, but then he remembers how much you like him dirty like this. Just the thought of you has got him hard already. He palms himself through his shorts and immediately has to stop himself; to come before you’ve even got in the door is unthinkable, unforgivable.
The door opens and there you are.
“Fucking finally.”
Jungkook slams his hands either side of your head, leaning down over you, sweat still dripping from his hair. He lowers one hand slowly to lock the door, his dark eyes never leaving yours, and then returns it next to your head.
“Did you have to wear fucking jeans?” he asks, laughing lightly. Of course, she’d wear jeans, he thinks, fucking tease. “Couldn’t find a dress? A skirt?”
“Sorry,” you answer, and you’re already breathless.
Jungkook kisses you, pressing his whole body against you and you sigh; god how you’ve missed this. He turns you around with one knock of his hand on your hip and he unbuttons your jeans impatiently. He shoves them roughly down your legs and you step out of them and your shoes at the same time.
“Oh baby, I don’t care. All I care about is finally getting to fuck you like you deserve. Please tell me you’re wet already. I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”
He’s usually more considerate; he would usually take his time. But this is not a usual situation. You laugh.
“Kookie, I’ve been wet for weeks, just hurry the fuck up, would you?”
He doesn’t need telling twice. He strips off his shorts and boxers and as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, and it twitches, he gasps.
“Shit.”
He takes a few breaths, tries to steady himself. He kisses your neck, buying himself some time. He’s on a hair trigger and he’s not entirely convinced he won’t blow his load in one thrust.
“Just so you know,” he tells you, figuring there’s nothing else for it. “I’m going to last about ten seconds right now, but I promise, I’ll be ready to go again. I swear this won’t be it.”
“Just fuck me, please, Kookie. I’ll take ten seconds over none.”
Your whole body shudders as he presses into you for the first time in four weeks. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom. You can feel him breathing heavily against your skin and he takes your trapezius in his teeth, taking a generous bite and not letting go as he drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled for 29 long days.
Ten seconds, as it happens, was an over-estimation. The way you grip him, the way he can feel your walls fluttering against him; you’re so hot and wet and tight and it’s been so long and he’s so sensitive. He lasts for all of a handful of thrusts before he’s groaning and shooting hot, white ropes of cum into you.
“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, fuck!”
You can’t help but laugh as you turn around, keeping your legs tight together. He grins sheepishly at you and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.
“I’m sorry, love, I did tell you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”
His hands meet across your lower back and he pulls you close for a kiss.
“I’ve missed you, too, Kookie,” you mumble against his lips, half your words eaten up by Jungkook’s mouth. You feel his tongue against your lower lip and you open up for him, sliding your tongue over his as he licks into your mouth. God, even this you’ve missed. You’ve barely even seen him in the last week, let alone got close to him, let alone touched him, let alone kissed him, even chastely. It’s overwhelming now to have him so close to you, all over you. You never want him any further away.
He moves his hands lower and lifts you up under your bum, carrying you to the sofa, where he strips you of your top and bralet – the black, lacy one you know he likes. You almost pout that he takes no notice of it but he catches you eye and grins.
“I notice, I know, I love you, thank you, but god, I don’t want a stitch on you right now. Nothing is better than you like this.” He stretches his hands out over your naked body and climbs over you. He ducks again, swallowing your next moan as he pinches at your nipple.
His mouth is everywhere, burning wherever it touches. You’re sweating and breathless and you think you won’t last much longer than ten seconds either when he finally touches you. Your cunt is quivering in anticipation, your clit throbbing a hard pulse, its echoes shuddering through you. Your back arches as Jungkook moves lower, his mouth on one nipple and then the next and then lower and lower still. He crawls off the sofa onto his knees and pulls you around, legs dangling from the edge. He spreads your thighs wide and takes a moment, looking down at your soaking wet pussy through half-lidded eyes. He licks his lips and clicks his neck from one side to the next before fixing you with a mischievous grin.
“If you even think about teasing me,” you gasp out. “I will fucking murder you.”
He laughs and kisses your inner thigh.
“You over-estimate my self-control, my love. I’m at my fucking limit.”
He is. He isn’t even close to finished with you. His cock is already stirring again as he dives straight in, licking a broad stripe from core to clit and moaning lasciviously as he does. You’re already so sensitive, whining and whimpering as he sucks and slurps at you, his face buried so far into the crux of your thighs, you don’t know if he can breathe. Almost immediately, you’re cresting, arching off the sofa, thighs clamping together on Jungkook’s head as a streak of hot pleasure surges through you and fresh arousal gushes over his face.
He brings his hands to your thighs and forces them apart without breaking contact with your cunt. He doesn’t stop, no matter how you squirm; you can’t catch your breath to tell him you’re over-stimulated, to beg him to stop, to give you a second’s break. A scream breaks in your throat as he pushes three fingers inside you and you’re seeing stars. He finally takes his mouth from you and breathes heavily against you, his breath sending sprinkles of goosebumps across your skin. He curls his fingers inside you and then tips your hips just slightly, suddenly hitting the perfect spot. You’re incoherent, animal, as you moan and whimper, stuttering to another orgasm under his ministrations.
You don’t have to find a way to ask him to remove his fingers as the waves of your orgasm roll through you but just as you are about to breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth is back on you. He’s gentle this time, more patient. He kisses your lips, licks through your folds slowly, moaning, his brows knitting together because it’s been so long since he’s tasted you and there’s nothing he’d ever rather eat. He buries his tongue in your hole, bumping your clit with his nose; if it were anyone else, it might be accidental, but you know Jungkook knows your body perfectly and knows exactly what he's doing. You’re raw, over-wrought, dehydrated. Your vision swims and your voice gets stuck in your throat, able only to gasp and stutter, not even able to scream his name out loud as you scream it in your head. Your hands tremble, one pushing back the hair on your head, the other finding its way to Jungkook’s hair, tangling there as if you could even dream of giving him direction right now.
His eyes flick to yours and they’re black, pupils dilated, lids fluttering quickly to a close again as he moans, vibrating lips sealing around your screamingly sensitive clit. Your hand pulls sharply at his hair, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel like every atom in your body has been electrified, every touch, every movement – yours or his – sending sparks straight to your core, where they’re churned up into a tight ball. Like the death of a star, your body collapses in on itself, contracting and tightening as you are reduced to little more than a silent scream, and then explodes, a supernova of ecstasy exploding within you, scattering bits of you all over the room.
When you open your eyes, you can see stars wherever you look, which isn’t far because you can’t find it within you to move a single muscle.
“You ok, my love?”
Jungkook’s face swims into view, a dopey grin on his sticky, wet face. He looks drunk or high or both. He pushes the hair off your face, your flushed cheeks, fucked-out, dilated pupils staring straight at him; he thinks you look high or drunk or both. He kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips and you’re suddenly hungry again.
“Kookie.” Your voice is hoarse and low, still strangled with need.
Jungkook hums against your mouth as he lifts you up, pressing your back into the back of the sofa.
“Kookie.”
You manage to grab his face between your palms and hold him still, giving you a chance to focus on him, see him properly.
“Tell me what you need,” he says, as eager to please and energetic as a new puppy and you have no idea how. He should be tired; he knows he’s going to crash hard, but right now, there’s adrenaline surging through him like there’s no tomorrow. He’s wired; he’s excited; he feels almost manic with love and lust and he’s so high, he can’t see the ground. He feels like he could go all night and he’s certainly going to try.
“I need you inside me, right now, right this second. Please, please, please.”
You aren’t exactly unaccustomed to begging but nothing will stop the stream of ‘please’s tumbling from your mouth. Nothing, that is, except the head of Jungkook’s perfect cock in your folds, waiting, teasing at your entrance.
He’s lifted you again, setting you on the arm of the sofa, him kneeling on the cushions; with nothing to rest against, you cling to him tight as your breath catches in your throat. He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your cunt, watching himself disappear into you. You want to make a joke about lasting another ten seconds but you don’t have the energy, the capacity, the mental agility to make it; you just about manage to cry his name as starts to thrust, smooth and slow at first, but soon, quicker, harder, accompanied by quiet growls and grunts as he grips you tight. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical as he’s finally, finally back where he belongs. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?”
He’s relieved he hasn’t come again already, though he knows he could. He’s holding back because he’s still so close to the edge. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to lose it again.
“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. “Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”
He grabs the hair at the back of your head and pulls it back, exposing your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter.
“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours, baby.”
“Only mine.”
“Only yours.”
You press your lips to his clavicle, then lick a bead of sweat travelling down his throat. Jungkook moves faster still, his grip on you painfully tight as he threatens your cervix with every thrust. You’re so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs still heavy and weak, tingling like they’re both going numb and coming back to life. You simultaneously want this to last forever and feel like you’ll die if a single extra ounce of pleasure is put on you. Then Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking.
“Give me one more, baby,” he demands, so low you almost don’t hear it.
“I don’t have it,” you whimper.
“Yes, you do, c’mon, y/n.”
And he slips a hand between you, never letting his pace falter.
“Jesus, fuck!”
He touches you gently, but it’s enough to have reality slipping from view, your vision burning white, your blood roaring, screaming in your ears as you cum again. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his back, your teeth hard on the delicate flesh of his neck. It rolls through you, knocking your breath from your lungs, and once it’s passed, you’re trembling, shaking.
Jungkook is holding his breath, straining to last to fuck you through your orgasm; you’re so tight around him it’s like his brain loses signal, just a siren wailing an emergency. No thoughts, no words, when you collapse against him, he exhales, and releases into you with a long, high-pitched sigh.
He lies back onto the sofa, taking you with him.
“That was more than ten seconds, right?” he asks, breathless.
You laugh and pat his shoulder.
“Well done, little jammy dodger; I’m proud of you.”
“For lasting more than ten seconds or winning the title?”
“What title?”
The question leaves your lips before your brain has engaged and Jungkook laughs, first a little and then a lot, so much that you can’t help but laugh with him, can’t help but laugh until you’re crying, your abs hurting, you’re silent in your mirth, breathless and voiceless and hysterical.
When you finally stop, you bring your face level to his. He still has tears of laughter in his eyes and streaking his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumb and he turns his head to kiss your palm.
“Both, I guess?” you answer.
He grins and shakes his head.
“I almost lost. I thought I was going to fucking lose,” he tells you. “That second half, I-…”
“What happened?”
“I saw you. I saw you in the crowd and I almost fucking came right then and there.” He laughs, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I couldn’t concentrate on the fight; all I could think about was trying not to get a fucking boner. Shit what a stupid fucking idea it was not having sex for four we-”
“I fucking told you!”
“I know, I know. I will never not listen to you ever again for the rest of my life, I swear. God.”
“No more sex bans?”
“No more sex bans. I am never, ever not having sex with you again.”
“Good.”
You lift yourself onto your elbows on his chest and kiss him first on the lips, then the jaw and neck and anywhere within reach.
“Speaking of never not having sex… Are you ready to go again?”
pleaseeeee use wool guys it doesnt actually hurt the sheep at all and its a really great material and doesnt break down into micro plastics when you're done with it. they need shearing anyway for their wellbeing. farmers have so much of the stuff because no one buys it any more.
wool can thermoregulate you in the winter OR summer, depending on the weight
it can be incredibly soft. wool gauze is even a thing
BUY WOOL SO MAYBE WOOL WON'T BE SO DAMN EXPENSIVE ANYMORE
(if you can. we're stuck in a vicious cycle of "need more wool demand to make the price go down; cannot increase demand without price cuts because 100% wool is so expensive." it's the duty of people who CAN afford wool to buy it and increase the demand to make it more accessible for others, IMO)
