Summary: In the dead of night on the tour bus, with the members fast asleep just meters away, Jungkook pulls you onto his lap and lets you ride him slowly.
Genre: Pure Smut
Pairing: Jungkook × Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+) • Semi-Public Sex • Fingering • Unprotected Sex • Creampie • Dirty Talk • Risky Sex
The concert had drained every last drop of energy from your bones.
You trailed behind the seven members as they navigated the underground parking garage, the concrete walls still vibrating with the echoes of the stadium crowd.
Your feet ached in your boots, your throat was raw from screaming along to songs you'd memorized by heart, and your shirt clung to your skin with a mixture of sweat and confetti dust.
The plan had been simple: slip away to the staff bus, collapse into one of the empty seats near the back, and sleep until you reached the hotel.
But tonight, the staff bus was chaos.
Roadies shouted over each other, hauling equipment cases and dismantled stage pieces through the narrow aisle.
You hovered at the door, watching a technician wedge a lighting rig between two seats that used to be empty.
"Sorry," one of the managers called out, spotting you. "We're packed tonight. Equipment malfunction in Seoul—had to bring the backup rig. No spare seats."
Your heart sank. The hotel was four hours away.
"Problem?" Namjoon's voice came from behind you, low and slightly hoarse from the concert.
You turned, finding him with his hood pulled up, mask dangling from one ear, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. He looked as exhausted as you felt.
"Staff bus is full," you explained, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice. "I'll figure something out. Maybe one of the crew vans—"
"Don't be ridiculous." He cut you off, but gently. A small smile tugged at his lips. "Come with us. We have plenty of room."
Your instinct was to refuse. To thank him, to insist you'd be fine, to not be a burden. You opened your mouth to do exactly that.
But your legs trembled. Your vision swam slightly at the edges. You hadn't eaten since lunch, thirteen hours ago, and the adrenaline crash was hitting hard.
"Namjoon, I can't—"
"You look like you're about to pass out," he said, matter-of-fact. "And if you pass out in a crew van, Jin will never forgive himself for not insisting you ride with us." He placed a hand on your shoulder, steering you toward the sleek black tour bus waiting at the end of the row. "One night. We'll be asleep before we hit the highway anyway. You won't even know we're there."
You wanted to argue. You should have argued.
But the need for a horizontal surface—for sleep, for rest, for just four hours of unconsciousness—overrode your pride.
"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you."
The tour bus smelled like leather and pine air freshener and the lingering scent of seven different colognes. The main lounge area was dim, lit only by the blue glow of the console lights.
Namjoon set his duffel bag down in the aisle and gestured toward the back of the bus.
"There's still one bunk free. You can take that one." A tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It's the one above Jungkook's."
Your stomach dropped.
Great.
As if tonight wasn't already overwhelming enough.
Ever since the tour had started, Jungkook had occupied your thoughts in a way you couldn't control. At first, you'd brushed it off as simple admiration. Weeks on the road together, endless rehearsals, airports, hotels—it was normal to grow attached to the people around you.
At least, that's what you'd told yourself.
But somewhere along the way, admiration had quietly turned into something far more dangerous.
Every single concert, you promised yourself you'd stay focused on your job. You were there to work, not to stare at him.
Yet the moment the lights dimmed and the music began, your eyes found him without fail.
Jungkook on stage was magnetic. The confidence in every movement. The way his smile lit up the entire stadium.
The effortless power in his voice, followed moments later by the soft grin he wore whenever the members made each other laugh.
You hated how easily he occupied your mind. How one smile from him could carry you through an exhausting sixteen-hour workday. How hearing him laugh somewhere down the hallway made you smile before you even realized it.
Completely unprofessional.
And absolutely impossible to stop.
You swallowed hard before making your way toward the bunks.
The narrow hallway was quiet, most of the lights already dimmed for the drive ahead. One by one, you passed the closed curtains until you found the empty bunk Namjoon had mentioned.
You climbed the small ladder, careful not to make too much noise.
Okay... maybe this won't be so bad.
You slipped off your shoes and crawled inside, the mattress surprisingly soft beneath your aching body. Every muscle protested as you stretched out, exhaustion finally catching up to you.
Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you closed your eyes.
But no matter how desperately you wanted to sleep. Your thoughts drifted back to him.
Think about something else.
Tomorrow's schedule. The equipment that still needed to be checked. The hotel. The endless highway stretching through the night.
You tried focusing on the steady hum of the engine, on the soft vibration beneath the mattress, on the faint rattle of dishes somewhere near the front lounge.
It didn't work.
With every passing minute, the thought settled deeper into your mind.
You let out a quiet sigh and turned onto your left side. You rolled onto your right.
Still uncomfortable.
You shifted onto your stomach, pressing your face into the pillow as if you could smother your racing thoughts.
A few seconds later, you rolled back onto your back and stared up at the dark ceiling of the bunk.
This was hopeless.
How were you supposed to fall asleep knowing Jungkook would be sleeping only a few inches beneath you?
You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn't make your heart feel like it was trying to escape your chest.
"Could you stop moving around so much?"
The voice came from directly beneath you.
"It's impossible to sleep like this."
You froze. Every muscle in your body locked into place.
He was there.
Your thoughts had been so loud, so all-consuming, that you hadn't even heard him climb into his bunk.
Heat rushed to your face. "Oh my God..." The words escaped as nothing more than a whisper. "I-I'm so sorry."
You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, wishing the mattress would simply swallow you whole. "I didn't realize you'd already come to bed."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Neither of you spoke for a few seconds.
"I'm really sorry," you whispered again, hoping you hadn't actually kept him awake for too long.
A quiet chuckle drifted up from the bunk below.
"It's okay," Jungkook replied, his voice still rough with exhaustion. "I was awake anyway."
You let out the breath you'd been holding. "I didn't even hear you come in."
"I noticed." His answer carried a hint of amusement. "You looked... pretty deep in thought."
If only you knew.
"I guess I couldn't fall asleep," you admitted.
"Long day?"
You laughed quietly. "You could say that."
"It was a long one for all of us." His words were followed by another comfortable silence. The bus continued rolling through the night, its gentle swaying almost hypnotic.
"You should try to get some rest," he said after a moment.
"I'm trying."
"Hm."
A few more seconds passed. Then his voice came again, softer this time. "If you want..."
You waited.
"You can come down here. I'm watching a show."
"What?"
"I've got my tablet." You could almost hear the smile in his voice. "I wasn't planning on sleeping yet anyway."
Your heart immediately argued with itself.
No. Absolutely not. That was a terrible idea.
You were already struggling to keep your feelings hidden. Lying next to him in the middle of the night would only make things worse.
You'd probably spend the entire time trying not to look at him. Trying not to notice how close he was.
But it was just a show. Nothing more.
You swallowed. "...Okay."
Carefully, you pushed your blanket aside and climbed down the small ladder, making sure not to make a sound that might wake the others.
Jungkook had already pulled back the curtain to his bunk. The soft glow of a tablet illuminated the small space, casting warm light across his features.
"There you are," he murmured, shifting over to make room.
The bunk was small, forcing the two of you to lie closer than you normally would.
You hesitated for the briefest moment before carefully lying down beside him, keeping as much space between you as the narrow mattress allowed.
Before you could say anything, he reached for the edge of his blanket. "There," he whispered. "It's warmer this way."
Your breath caught for a split second. "Thanks..."
You kept your eyes fixed on the screen, determined not to let him notice how fast your heart was beating.
He simply pressed play.
For a little while, neither of you said another word. Only the quiet dialogue from the show and the steady hum of the bus filled the tiny space as the night carried all of you farther down the empty highway.
The series played quietly on the tablet between you, its soft glow illuminating the cramped bunk.
You had absolutely no idea what was happening.
Someone had been running through a rain-soaked alley a few minutes ago.
Now they were sitting in a café or maybe it was a different character altogether.
Your brain had chosen to focus on literally everything else.
Jungkook lay beside you, close enough that every small movement registered instantly. Whenever the bus rounded a corner, your shoulders brushed for the briefest moment before you instinctively shifted away again.
His thigh rested lightly against yours.
You tried to pay attention to the dialogue.
"So..." Jungkook said quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen. "What did you think of tonight's crowd?"
"Hm?"
He glanced at you with a small smile. "The concert."
"Oh. The crowd was amazing."
"They really were."
You nodded, pretending to watch the next scene.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him absently pressing the tip of his tongue against the inside of his lip, making the small piercing catch the light for just a second before he looked back at the screen.
You immediately forced your eyes forward again.
Seriously? Focus.
"So," he spoke up again after a minute, "have you seen this one before?"
You blinked. "...What?"
A quiet laugh escaped him. "I asked if you've seen this show before."
You couldn't help laughing under your breath. "I have absolutely no idea what's happening."
"I noticed." He shook his head, amused.
"I was starting to think you secretly hated my taste in shows."
"No."
"Then what's distracting you so much?"
The question caught you completely off guard. Your heart skipped. For a split second, you forgot how to breathe.
You. Because you're lying right next to me. Because you're so close I can feel the warmth of your arm.
Instead, you forced out the safest answer you could think of. You smiled sheepishly. "I'm just more tired than I thought."
He studied you for a second before giving a small nod. "Fair enough."
Then, without another question, he turned his attention back to the screen, letting the conversation fade into a comfortable silence.
The tension coiled low in your belly, a persistent ache that made you press your thighs together under the thin blanket, seeking friction that only seemed to make it worse.
You couldn't stop.
God, you were pathetic.
But the image wouldn't leave you—his tongue, that silver flash you'd caught against his lip, wondering how it would feel against your skin.
And his fingers, imagining them inside you, curling just right, making you—
You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to sting.
Your whole body had gone rigid without you realizing it, muscles locked tight as you stared at the tablet screen.
Jungkook shifted beside you.
Just a subtle turn of his head, dark eyes sliding from the screen to your profile.
You felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, your breath catching and holding in your throat.
"You don't even pay attention."
You didn't move. Couldn't.
Your heart hammered against your ribs so hard you were certain he could see it.
"Are you good?"
The question hung between you, loaded with something you couldn't name.
You managed a nod, short and jerky, your throat too tight to form words.
What in the world did you do to deserve this?
Not with him so close you could smell his colonge, could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
He watched you for a moment longer, something flickering in his expression—curiosity.
"You're shaking," he observed quietly.
"Sorry," you whispered, the word barely audible.
"For what?"
You couldn't answer.
The tablet continued to play, forgotten. The bus rumbled on through the night.
If he had even the faintest idea of the thoughts currently consuming you—
You weren't sure you'd survive the embarrassment.
You stared at the side of his face, at the way the screen's glow cast shifting shadows across his sharp jawline, his attention seemingly fixed on the episode playing out in stuttering frames.
Your heart hammered so hard against your ribs you were certain it would bruise, a frantic drumbeat that seemed to fill the entire cramped bunk.
"Jungkook—"
"You know," he cut you off, voice still quiet, still casual, though his eyes never left the tablet screen. "I can help you."
The words didn't register at first.
"What?"
He turned his head slowly, dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your mouth go dry. The corner of his mouth lifted—not quite a smile.
"You know," he repeated, and now his free hand found your waist under the blanket, fingers spreading wide and possessive against your hip. "I've thought about it the whole tour."
Your breath caught, trapped in your throat.
"About fucking you."
The crude word falling from his lips sent a violent shiver down your spine, your legs clenching together involuntarily as heat flooded your face.
"I've watched you," he continued, his voice dropping lower, rougher, as his hand slid from your hip to trace the waistband of your sleep shorts. "Watched you watch me. The way you look at my mouth. The way you stare when I touch my tongue to my lip ring."
Oh god, he knew.
"You're not subtle," he murmured, leaning closer until you could feel his breath warm against your cheek, smelling faintly of the mint gum he'd been chewing earlier. "And I've been going crazy. Every night. Thinking about you just like this."
His fingers dipped lower, brushing over the fabric covering you, and you gasped, arching into the touch without meaning to, your body betraying every coherent thought you'd ever had.
"So," he whispered against your ear, his lip ring cool against your heated skin. "Do you want me to help you? Or are you going to keep pretending you're watching the show?"
"The others are here." The words came out strangled, barely a whisper, your eyes darting toward the thin curtain separating your bunk from the rest.
Jungkook didn't even flinch.
He just smiled at you and leaned in until his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours in the dim glow of the forgotten tablet.
"Then you have to be quiet," he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "Can you do that, baby?"
The pet name sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your legs, and you nodded immediately, desperately, already abandoning any pretense of restraint.
His mouth crashed against yours the second your head moved—hungry, demanding, his lip ring cool and foreign against your soft flesh before his tongue swept inside, claiming you.
You barely registered his hand moving until you felt it—warm palm cupping your breast over your thin sleep shirt, thumb dragging across your nipple until it hardened against the fabric.
You whimpered into his mouth.
"Shh," he warned against your lips, his other hand coming up to join the first, both hands now full of you, squeezing and kneading with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the mattress.
Then his fingers found your nipples through the cotton—pinching, rolling, tugging—and you bit down on your own lip to stifle the moan that threatened to tear from your throat.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide with lust, before his hands moved to the hem of your top.
"Lift," he commanded softly.
You obeyed instantly, raising your arms as he pushed the fabric up, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the bunk before his mouth descended without preamble.
The heat of his tongue against your sensitive flesh made you jolt, your hand flying to your own mouth to muffle the cry that escaped. He laved attention on one nipple, then the other—sucking, licking, grazing his teeth just enough to make you see stars, all while his hands continued to work you with relentless precision.
"So needy," he whispered against your skin, his breath ghosting over your wet flesh and making you shiver.
His hand slid down your stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, and your hips bucked upward involuntarily, seeking, begging.
"Please," you breathed, the word barely audible.
"I've got you," he promised, dark eyes flashing up at you as his fingers found exactly where you needed him most. "Just keep quiet for me, baby. Can you do that?"
You nodded frantically, already losing yourself to the rhythm of his touch, the danger of the others just feet away making every sensation sharper, more intense, more desperately needed than anything you'd ever known.
His fingers worked you with devastating precision, curling inside you to find that spot that made your vision blur at the edges. You bit down on your own knuckles, tears pricking your eyes from the effort of staying silent, your hips rolling shamelessly against his hand.
"Fuck, you're dripping," he groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating through your chest. "So wet for me, aren't you? Such a good girl, taking my fingers like this."
You whimpered, the sound muffled and desperate, and he clamped his free hand over your mouth, his palm warm and firm.
"That's it," he breathed, his eyes locked on yours in the darkness, watching every flicker of pleasure cross your face. "I want to feel it against my hand."
He added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, and your back arched off the mattress, your cry vibrating against his palm. The wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filled the small space, filthy and obscene, mingling with your ragged breathing.
"Wanna see your face when you come," he growled, his thumb circling your clit in tight, merciless strokes. "Wanna watch you break apart right here, right now. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you come all over my fingers?"
You were nodding frantically, so close, teetering on the edge, when he suddenly withdrew his hand.
You made a sound of protest against his palm, needy and pathetic, but he was already moving, shoving his sweatpants down his hips, his cock springing free—thick and heavy and flushed dark, precum already beading at the tip.
"Get on me," he ordered, his voice rough with barely controlled restraint. "Wanna feel you."
You didn't hesitate.
You scrambled up, swinging your leg over his hips, your shorts somehow already shoved aside. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse against your palm.
"Fuck, yes," he hissed, his hips bucking upward into your touch. "That's it. Touch me. God, I've been so hard for you, thinking about this tight little pussy wrapped around me."
You positioned yourself above him, his tip kissing your entrance, and slowly, you lowered yourself down.
The stretch burned in the best way, filling you so completely you had to stop halfway, gasping, your hands braced against his chest.
"So fucking big," you whined, your voice barely above a breath.
"Yeah?" He grinned up at you, wicked and filthy, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Take it all, baby. I know you can. Such a good fucking girl for me, aren't you? So desperate to be filled."
You sank lower, taking him to the hilt, and both of you groaned in unison, the sound dangerously loud in the quiet bus.
"Ride me," he commanded, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Show me how much you want it. Show me how bad you've been needing this cock."
You started moving, rolling your hips in slow, experimental circles, and the sensation made your head fall back, your mouth falling open in a silent cry.
"Fuck," he praised, his eyes drinking you in, watching where you were joined, where his cock disappeared inside you again and again. "Look at you. Taking me so deep. You're so fucking tight, baby. So wet. Made for me, aren't you? This pussy was made to take my cock."
You picked up the pace, bouncing on him now, the slap of skin against skin muffled by the blanket but still audible, still dangerous. His hand found its way back to your mouth, two fingers pressing past your lips, and you sucked on them instinctively, tasting yourself on his skin.
"That's my girl," he groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet your downward strokes, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyes. "Suck them clean. Taste how fucking good you are. God, you feel incredible. So hot. So perfect."
His other hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles that had you clamping down around him, your orgasm building fast and relentless at the base of your spine.
"Gonna come for me?" he taunted, his voice strained, his own control clearly fraying at the edges. "Gonna come all over my cock like a good girl? I wanna feel it."
You shattered.
Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your body convulsing around him, your teeth sinking into his fingers to muffle the scream that tried to tear from your throat. He kept fucking up into you, chasing his own release now, his thumb never stopping its assault on your oversensitive clit, prolonging your pleasure until you were sobbing, trembling, utterly wrecked.
"Fuck," he chanted, his hips stuttering, losing rhythm. "Taking it so well. So fucking beautiful. Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine."
He came with a strangled groan, his cock pulsing inside you. His fingers bruising your hips as he held you down, taking him as deep as possible, his release spilling into you in endless spurts.
You collapsed against his chest, both of you panting, sweating, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat and something uniquely him.
"Quiet enough for you?" you mumbled, your voice wrecked.
He laughed, breathless and satisfied, his arms wrapping tight around you. "Perfect," he whispered against your hair. "My perfect girl."
The aftermath settled over you like a heavy blanket, your heart still hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs as you lay sprawled across his chest, listening to the gradual slowing of his breathing beneath your ear.
His fingers traced lazy patterns up and down your spine, soothing now where they had been demanding minutes before.
"They're heard us."
"Probably," he repeated, softer this time, his hand stilling against your back. "Do you care?"
You lifted your head to look at him, at the way his dark eyes had gone soft around the edges, the sharp intensity replaced by something warmer, more vulnerable.
"No," you admitted. "I don't think I do."
He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that felt more exposing than everything that had just happened.
"Good," he whispered. "Because I'm not done with you."
For now, in this cramped bunk with Jungkook's arms around you and his heartbeat steady beneath your palm, you let yourself believe that some distractions were worth the chaos they created.
And when he pulled the blanket higher over both of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered just a little too long to be casual, you closed your eyes and thought that maybe—just maybe—you wouldn't mind missing the end of every show from now on.
“Your girl’s so bad. Let me have her.”
The address Jungkook provides ends up being a house of esoteric pleasure, and the rabid fangirl within you threatens to escape the horny jail when you realize who runs the place. (8.3k)
cw (18+): major warnings only. see mlist for the general scope and please read at your own risk. Free use, livestreamed sex
content. masterlist | one | two | three | four
The car that costs your whole life and then some has been on the road for twenty minutes, yet Jungkook still hasn’t come back to earth, still slouched in his seat, and still with a dumb smile on his face. His afterglow is like neon plasma, so blindingly bright that it’s about to turn the pitch-black sky into midnight blue. Neither of you talk, but the silence isn’t tense anymore—Jungkook’s harlot jams playing in the background make for a super chill ambiance.
“Super chill” doesn’t mean you’re not about to have a flooding problem soon.
Could be the slow beats reminding you of the rhythm you’ve been fucked to all night long, or his hand lazily caressing your inner thigh that keeps you so wet. Or maybe it’s your delusional mind playing a short film where Jungkook softly croons those hypersexual lyrics in your ear, fingering your dripping pussy somewhere he absolutely shouldn’t, ordering you not to cum while fully gunning for a messy ending, then smiling like the demon he is when you inevitably cream all over his fingers.
In any case, something’s going to drip down your legs when you stand up again.
You pull over in front of a sign that reads “Vanitæ” written in a seductive font, the unknown on the horizon making butterflies take flight in your stomach. Jungkook is the first to get out of the car, now fully bounced back from his ecstatic crash, and you follow after him. He picks up a duffel bag from the trunk, then slams it shut, and the car locks with an ear-piercing beep.
“Am I still on mute?” you ask.
Very pleased that you reminded the teacher there was homework, he breaks into a proud smile and gently holds your chin.
“You’re on recess but still on my terms. I’ll tell you what to do to earn a good girl sticker very soon,” he places a small peck on your lips, then intertwines his fingers with yours. “Come with me.”
Does this man NOT hear the kinda shit that comes out of his mouth? Or can he AT LEAST practice SOME impulse control so you won’t go insane? Fucking please and thank you?!!
Neither the name nor the structure of the venue gives away what it really is. It has a window like a store front, but the mannequins look more like an art installation than a window display. Mismatched costumes, chains, random-looking objects… You don’t know what is being sold, or if there is anything being sold at all. You’d think a store would be more welcoming to make as many Benjamins as possible, but you can’t just push the door and walk in as you please. Only when Jungkook enters a code on a number pad does the door unlock with a loud clank, briefly stealing the attention of the…
Patrons?
It’s not crowded inside; there are maybe only ten people scattered around, browsing merchandise, and somehow they all look like characters straight out of an erotic thriller. At least your business casual kinda helps you save face next to the borderline black-tie dress code, but rather than “high-end cocktail”, the vibe is giving “secret society eerie”. The room is dipped in champagne golds and warm beiges—it’s definitely upscale, smells like privilege, walks like luxury fashion but talks like pleasure dungeon. The more you look around, the more you can’t figure out where you’re at. It could very well be a boutique, a museum, or an atelier.
Of a depraved artist, that is.
“What even is this place?” you quietly ask Jungkook, your brows stitched together as your eyes jump from one “accessory” to the next. “You’re not gonna make me join a sex cult, are you?”
“Solid idea,” he grins, “but no.”
At the far end of the room is a suit-clad man with his back turned, explaining something to the couple next to him in lowercase letters. They seem to be comparing the three types of ropes before them, all in different colors and all tied into a different knot. When Jungkook spots him in the distance, his steps quicken, and when the clicks behind him are at their loudest, the rope whisperer finally turns around.
“Welcome t— Oh, hi,” he flashes an alluring smile at Jungkook. “Long time, no see.”
SHUT THE FUCK UP THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY!!!
With the arrival of the new “guests”, the couple thank their guide with graceful smiles and leave. The man greets Jungkook with a tight handshake, and you have to deploy every single drop of your self-restraint to resist the urge to squeal. You are elated and extremely confused in the same breath because Jungkook knows this is your all-time favorite…
Pornstars are technically models, right?
And just like that, you have so many questions that require immediate answers to keep breathing!
“Fuuuck me, the Kim Taehyung in the flesh,” you let slip through a stuttering breath, spacing the hell out into the man’s chiseled-by-gods features.
“Always a pleasure to meet a fan,” he reaches for your hand and places a kiss on it.
“You’re like… so much hotter in person, sir. I–I mean…”
“Sir?” he softly laughs, then turns to Jungkook. “Please tell me this is a gift for me?”
“Sure. Would you like to die of natural causes?” Jungkook replies with an equally charming smile.
The two men chuckle at each other as if this is just business as usual, and neither has the decency to acknowledge the tuxedo-wearing elephant in the room trumpeting “Fucking address me!”. At the absolute limit of your patience after that five-second lull, you decide to take the matter into your own hands.
“How do you even know each other?” you ask, exerting significant effort to not sound like a rabid fangirl.
“Might sound made up, but we actually went to law school together,” Jungkook answers, landing a loud slap on his friend’s back. “Then my man did the right thing and got into attention whoring business instead.”
“Your picks are in cabin two,” Taehyung points towards an arch leading into darkness.
“Your picks?” you cock a brow at Jungkook.
“Come on,” he leads you to the back, leaving Taehyung to be a whip whisperer for the next couple in line.
This section does feel boutique-y with the changing rooms, albeit maybe in a strip club. The bright red neon lights illuminate the dark corridor on each end, giving it a cliché pleasure district vibe. As per the extravaganza dripping off the walls, even the changing rooms are actually rooms—so spacious, three people can easily fit in there and use it as a private lounge. Not that there is any reason for three people to chill in a changing room.
At least you can’t think of any PG ones.
The “picks” in question are clothing items hung on a rack, none of which can end up in your wardrobe of your own volition. They are all made of leather, entirely unwearable in public, and barely wearable within four walls, to be frank. You put on the first set and check your reflection, but it’s as if a stranger is staring back at you. With the bright red neon lights illuminating even the mirror frame, you look no different than a pleasure district merchandise on display.
“Need some help?” Jungkook’s voice reaches you through the thick curtain.
“Uh… Not really, but…” you answer him hesitantly, “I wouldn’t say I wore something.”
“Come out. Let me see.”
You open the curtain and show yourself, trying to play it cool and not make your embarrassment too obvious. It’s just a red strapless top and a micro mini skirt over fishnet stockings, but Jungkook still whistles a crass catcall followed by a two-syllable “damn”, shamelessly ogling you from head to toe.
“Mm, the devil’s mistress,” he puts his hands on your waist, slowly sliding them down to your hips. “I’ve always wanted to know what sin tastes like.”
He dives into your lips headfirst, and your knees give way so quickly that if you didn’t hold onto his Pacific-ass shoulders at the last second, you would be kissing the floor instead. The entire day, he’s been melting you with his random and deep deep DEEP kisses, and at this rate, nothing’s gonna be left of you when the clock strikes midnight. He doesn’t even give a fuck, deliberately making loud wet noises and caressing your pussy to make you moan into his mouth.
You got half a mind to bend over against that wall and ask him to blow your back out.
“What are you doing?” you giggle. “Someone’s going to see.”
“Shh, hold this,” he hands you his phone. “Record me.”
“R–Record you?”
“Yeah, the lights are really pretty here, don’t you think? It’ll be like you lured me into your lair,” he kneels before you, licking his lips at the sight of your slick folds. “And I begged you to keep me hostage for your pleasure.”
Then he fucking goes for it.
You turn the camera on and switch to video mode, legitimately wishing you were in the adult entertainment business because this footage right there is a certified gold mine. An insanely sexy man is on his knees for you, his arms wrapped around your legs, his eyes closed, slurping on your pussy like it’s fucking ayahuasca, just utterly entranced. You zoom in on how his tongue glides all over your clit, and even though you’re the one in the frame with him, he looks so hot that you throb harder with each lick.
“Mmm… Oh fuck, Jungkook, you really know how to use that tongue…”
“Dinner in my house and I’m not invited?”
“OH MY GOD!”
You yeet yourself back into the cabin and harshly pull the curtain when Taehyung’s voice suddenly blares in your ears. You’re about to DIE of mortification, yet the two men are not even slightly fazed, just giggling as if a cute accident has just taken place.
“Would you be able to resist this?” Jungkook wipes the corner of his mouth, gently pulling you out of your makeshift panic room. “Just look at her.”
Taehyung’s eyes land on you, but that’s not looking, nuh uh. The man eats you alive and leaves no crumbs with his gaze alone. He takes a few unrushed steps, circling around you, appreciating every nook and cranny like he’s appraising a rare piece of art for his debauched museum. As he completes his lap, he notices the letters behind your ear that look like custom branding, and it makes him break into the most perverse smile.
“Your girl’s so bad,” he lets out a longing sigh, staring at your lips with narrowed eyes. “Let me have her.”
The way they talk about you like you’re the pleasure object of the century should feel offensive, but context is everything. When it’s their vulgar attention on you, it makes you feel like the most powerful bitch in the universe, and you don’t remember ever being this flattered. Who in their right mind wouldn’t? It’s Kim fucking Taehyung openly declaring he wants to have you.
And rare are the things the prince of pleasure has hungered for and not devoured.
“Change into the black one. I’ll choose some accessories for you,” Jungkook instructs, pointing at the rack behind you. “Ditch the underwear.”
The two men leave the area, and although Taehyung moves as calmly as always, the brighter lights of the main lounge work like a spotlight, cast directly on the erection pressing against his slacks. Jungkook wears a shit-eating grin on his lips when he notices it, amused that old habits indeed die hard.
“How’d you like it?” he asks, flipping through a rack of cuffs with custom lettering options.
“Would pair the latex with a whip, but to each his own, I guess,” Taehyung offers his expert opinion.
“Yeah, that’s totally what I asked.”
Jungkook decides on a pair of black leather cuffs, then reaches for the sleek box right above the rack. He picks three diamond-encrusted letters and pierces the wristbands with them, devilishly smiling at the friendship bracelet from hell he’s just made. Satisfied with his little creation, he leans into Taehyung’s ear, finally divulging the purpose of his visit.
“Clear the place and lower the shutters. We got some business with you.”
“So it is a gift for me?” Taehyung smirks.
“You’re asked to be a guest, not the host,” Jungkook fakes a smile. “Play nice before I castrate you.”
Taehyung just chortles at Jungkook’s antics, amused that old habits indeed die hard, and does as told. In less than five minutes, the place is closed for a “private showing”. Ever the man of manners, he pours two glasses of his finest scotch, and the old friends get to reminiscing as though this is a casual visit to catch up, sprawling on the obscenely comfortable sofa that looks like it’s smuggled from a lesser-known palace.
Their conversation goes into mandatory intermission when your voice finally emerges from the back of the room.
“Um… Jungkook? Could you help me with this?”
“Come out here, baby. Let me see.”
Is this man trying to fucking kill you? Like, is that the end goal for today?
“I uh… I don’t think I can,” you hesitantly speak.
“Come out, it’s just us. There’s no one else here.”
The vague wording makes you think that it’s just you and Jungkook, but you don’t even know why you’re surprised to see the homeowner with him. Of course he would be present. The only problem is…
When Jungkook said “Ditch the underwear”, turns out it was for practical purposes since what you’re wearing is a leather leotard. The piece is actually rather tasteful, beautifully designed with intricate straps around the chest, but it’s… carved out in strategic places, such as the opening that starts from your mound and reaches all the way to your tailbone. When you spread your legs, your pussy is out in the open to be licked and fucked to any heart’s content.
A depraved prince’s, for example.
Jungkook’s face falls in awe when you walk into the room. He downs his entire glass and sets it aside, then walks up to you to admire you closer. The mask over your eyes, the over-the-knee boots with ridiculously high platforms, all handpicked to make him lose his damn mind. Which he’s about to.
Then he goes ahead and puts the cuffs adorned with diamond “JJK”s on your wrists as if he wants to overdose on arousal.
“Gorgeous,” he holds your hand and spins you around. “Wouldn’t you say so?”
“Not even close to expressing how mesmerized I am,” Taehyung concurs, “but let’s just leave it at yes for now.”
“Which would be very wise of you,” Jungkook subtly threatens, wrapping an arm around your waist. “So anyway, we’re also making our porn debut and—”
“What?!” you and Taehyung exclaim in unison.
“Focus, I need a professional opinion here,” Jungkook deadpans. “I have a persona in mind, and…”
Then he rambles on about stuff you’re hearing for the very first time. It’s either bait, or there’s some understanding between them to roll with stuff under certain twisted circumstances. As Jungkook delivers his scarily elaborate pitch, you can’t help but wonder if this is indeed an in-the-moment improvisation, or if he’s actually thought about you as adult performers with an “incubus/succubus couple” schtick at some point in time. Taehyung attentively listens, silently goes to the rack where various restraints are displayed like fashionable leather belts, then picks a collar attached to a chain with large hoops.
“Undress him,” he calmly instructs you. “Just the top.”
Jungkook doesn’t say a word, but his excitement is written all over his face in comically large letters, making him light up like all Times Square jumbotrons at once. You put your hands on his collar and cascade his blazer off his shoulders, then take your sweet time unbuttoning his shirt. The more skin you expose, the crazier your heart beats, and it reaches tachycardic heights when his tattoo sleeve enters the frame in its full glory. Once he is naked from the waist up, Taehyung attaches the collar around Jungkook’s neck and hands you the chains with a smirk.
“Pull on it,” he demands.
You do, and Jungkook staggers towards you, almost crashing into your lips. Taehyung moves behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder.
“You see the vision, right?” he rhetorically asks you, his eyes glued to Jungkook. “Wanna take this upstairs? If you want a dress rehearsal, I’ll give you a platform.”
“Aww, you’d do that for us?” Jungkook coos with hyperbolic endearment. “Would your audience be into it?”
“My audience is 95% women, and 5% men with extremely good taste,” Taehyung drops his stats. “And 100% swing both ways violently.”
“Then lead the way.”
As Taehyung disappears into the dark corridor, Jungkook grabs you by the wrist to stay behind. He has those devilish lights flickering in his eyes again, and it makes your heart skip a few beats.
“Recess is now over,” he declares.
“So, back to do not disturb mode?” you ask.
“I think this should be more interactive, so you can keep speaking, but we still have rules in place,” he starts playing with your hair. “Three, in fact.”
“Listening?”
His face suddenly turns more stern, wordlessly letting you know that whatever he’s about to say is no joking matter.
“Don’t forget that your allegiance lies with me,” he emphasizes. “Don’t think about playing tricks or ganging up on me. You listen to me, not him.”
You nod.
“You don’t initiate physical contact. You wait for my commands,” he continues, “but feel free to go crazy while executing them. React as much as you want, however you want. Moan. Scream. The more you enjoy yourself, the happier you’ll make me.”
You nod again.
“But whatever you do,” he speaks very very slowly, slightly frowning, “you do NOT moan his name. The only name you’ll ever moan is mine. Is that clear?”
How can it NOT be clear when bro dropped it like fucking law?
When he said “The only name you will…”, he could have just stopped there. In fact, he should have stopped there, but it was a choice to say “will ever”. The only name “you will ever moan” is his. As in… not only for tonight, but like… forever.
You nod for the last time.
“Good girl,” he pecks your lips as your first well-deserved sticker. “Now let’s play.”
You follow the trail Taehyung has drawn with his cologne, and climb two flights of stairs in the dark corridor. It feels familiar when you walk into the lavish room dripping in reds and blacks; you remember it from a few livestreams. You can’t really tell if he actually lives here—it does look like a prince’s bedchambers, but he also has quite the set going on, at least a semi-professional one with all the expensive equipment lying around.
And to no one’s surprise, his choice of lighting for his den of sin is neon reds.
Jungkook settles on one of the armchairs right by the edge of the bed and volunteers to be your seat, pulling you into his lap. Taehyung returns with what looks like a few lavender-colored pills in his palm and offers them to Jungkook.
“You still partake, I hope. Will be a major buzzkill otherwise,” he speaks in the key of their degenerate memories together. “Hit two if you need it.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Jungkook readily accepts with a hearty laugh. “Man, my dick’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“As it should. ‘I need a minute to get hard again’ isn’t exactly giving living legend of live porn,” Taehyung scoffs, his eyes glowing like orbs of fire fixated on you. “Every good thing has a price.”
“Indeed it does,” Jungkook proclaims, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby.”
There could be fucking heroin in there, but you oblige with sheer enthusiasm, sucking on the finger that pressed the lavender pill on your tongue. It’s not because you are entirely blinded by your lust—Jungkook has asked you a question earlier that day, which sounded deceptively lighter despite the colossal weight it carried.
Do you or do you not trust me?
And when you said “I do,” you very much meant it. The “why” is not something explainable by words; you can only feel it. You can only feel that even if you’re going 200 mph in the wrong lane, this man would never let a single strand of your hair be harmed. Because whenever you’re with Jungkook, “danger” never truly exists.
It’s just an extra in the backdrop for the thrill.
“So… How much for a private show?” Jungkook asks, smile cocky, posture relaxed as if Taehyung is the visitor here. “My girl kinda loses it over that dick, you know.”
“WHAT NO I DO NOT SHUT UP!!!” you shriek at the top of your lungs, your scandalized reaction making both men howl with laughter.
“As you’re also intimately familiar, no show can do me justice,” Taehyung eventually responds. “I have to be experienced.”
“What do you say, baby?” Jungkook looks up at you. “Down for the full Kim Taehyung experience?”
It’s a once-in-several-lifetimes moment—could be an opportunity to seize or a bullet to dodge depending on how you wish to interpret it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Taehyung stares at you with hooded eyes, head tilted, palms pressed on the mattress, then extends a hand like he’s daring you to come play.
Or set your fucking life on fire.
“Don’t mind if I do,” you respond at long last, reciprocating his serene smile.
“Give me a kiss,” Jungkook tugs on your wrist.
At least this time he has the courtesy to let you know rather than going straight for the jumpscare. When you lean into him, he damn near inhales you, kissing you with the kind of passion he never has before.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d suspect… it’s to send a petty message to Taehyung… or something.
“Go sit on his lap for me,” he whispers into your lips, forehead pressed to yours, tucking your hair behind your ear.
It takes a few seconds for you to come out of that trance, but you follow your orders. As you make your way to him, Taehyung spreads his legs even wider, letting you decide which thigh you would like as your new throne. You pick the left spot that has a magnificent Jungkook view and get comfortable, putting one arm around Taehyung’s shoulder while he curls his around your waist.
“Tsk, something’s not right,” Jungkook purses his lips, allegedly looking for the tiny but maddening flaw in his painting. He then snaps his fingers as if he’s finally spotted it. “Undress him. Just the top.”
You remove Taehyung’s blazer with zero rush, and he seems to enjoy his own striptease a bit too much. With every button you undo, you feel him grow bigger and harder under you, and when you finally reveal the gorgeous canvas you’ve only perceived through a screen, your lips part in disbelief that you’re merely inches away from painting it messy with your own hands.
If you had the luxury to initiate anything, that is.
“Now show me how wet you are for me,” Jungkook demands, slouching in his seat more.
His request is nothing that obscene, but when you’re wearing what you’re wearing, it feels like he’s asking you to gangbang a room full of people. You spread as wide as you can, and Jungkook lets out a stuttering exhale, biting his lips on instinct when the neon reds make the thick gloss coating your pussy glisten.
“Theeere you go,” he approves the final draft, contently nodding.
“So you lose it over me,” Taehyung holds your chin and turns your head towards his. “How?”
“I don’t remember ever confirming that,” you respond.
“Oh, come on, I don’t always get to hear direct feedback,” he attempts a playful persuasion, caressing your thighs lovingly but very much shamelessly.
“Direct feedback,” you repeat sarcastically. “Must be the most professional pseudonym I’ve heard for raging praise kink.”
Jungkook looks so entertained, grinning from ear to ear like he’s watching his team win in a tournament. Well, presently not much is at stake, so it’s not exactly giving championship game.
Doesn’t mean the semifinals are any less important, though.
“Is it… how I eat pussy?” Taehyung insists, hungrily staring at your folds as his touch climbs dangerously close to where he’s dying to be.
“Maybe,” you keep your ambiguous streak.
“But which one do you like better?” he tightens his grip around your waist. “How I lick, or how I fuck?”
“I like both very much, but the way you make out with a pussy takes the cake for me.”
“Oh, she likes both very much,” he lets his cheekbones rise to the stratosphere, orgasmically pleased with the answer he’s received. “Greedy. I like that.”
You can’t help the sighs you heave as he runs his hands all over your body. You know how mean this man can be when he wants to, but even when he gets too excited, unable to help the roughness of his touch, it’s the furthest thing from crude. There is this strange finesse to it, even a bit of worship in there if you squint.
And you still have no idea if you love being the object of his carnal desires just because it’s Taehyung, or because Jungkook is watching your every move.
“I don’t know why this is doing things to me,” he brushes his fingers on the fake tattoo behind your ear. The look in his eyes is indecipherable, but it visibly radiates sinister intent when he turns to Jungkook. “I need an answer. Gonna let me have her or what?”
“Have is a strong word. Let’s say I’ll allow you to experience her,” Jungkook rectifies. “Now that’d make one hell of a show. You should roll your cameras.”
“You’re actually gonna go through with it?” Taehyung questions, not even attempting to hide his enthusiasm.
“You’re the one that said you would give us a platform,” Jungkook reminds him. “I just have one condition.”
“Of course you do,” Taehyung snorts.
“Since we’re the talent tonight,” Jungkook divulges, “the stream’s revenue is ours in its entirety.”
“Fucking deal,” Taehyung instantly agrees, then points at the dock resting to Jungkook’s right. “Bring those to me.”
The dock holds two phones, one black and one white. Once he receives them, Taehyung opens the same app on both devices, one with a more elaborate dashboard, and begins his tutorial.
“These are the ‘dynamic cams’, and this phone is your control room,” he hands the black phone back to Jungkook. “You can switch between feeds, or choose multiple to broadcast. The static cams are located here, here, and here.” He points at the ceiling, the headboard, and the gigantic TV right across the bed. “They have motion sensors. If you’re not gonna film, just switch to auto mode, and they’ll do the work.”
“Not sure if I wanna know where you found those cameras,” Jungkook squints with a knowing smile, then looks around the room. “Before that, though, do you have any… accessories I can borrow? Preferably unused.”
“Top shelf,” Taehyung points at a large, black, safe-like cabinet right across him.
The chain around Jungkook’s neck jangles with each step he takes. The cabinet door opens with a metallic rattle, revealing some perverse treasure trove inside. It is what one would expect—all kinds of sex toys are exhibited on professionally lit shelves, some of which actually within display cases, and everything’s bedazzled with jewels.
And a voice at the back of your head tells you they’re not knock-offs at all.
“These are not fucking acrylic, is it?” Jungkook asks as if to confirm your theory, showing the bases of two blackish metal anal plugs. “Guess the red is ruby. What’s the black one?”
“Diamond,” Taehyung proudly answers. “If I’m gonna put something up my ass, it better fucking cost at least four digits.”
“Black diamond sounds A LOT more than four digits.”
“I said at least.”
Jungkook cracks up and continues his product review. “Very smooth finish,” he runs a finger on the shaft, then pulls the shelf out to show you all your options. “Point, baby. Which one do you like?”
You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to not laugh because this is fucking hysterical. Just this morning, you were pointing at pancakes, and now you’re supposed to point at what you think is the prettiest option to take up your ass as if this is goddamn Tiffany’s.
Your smirk grows bigger as you stare at him, and knowing his penchant for everything black, you point at the one with the diamond base.
“Your girl’s got taste, huh?” Taehyung places a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Jungkook pushes the shelf back in and closes the cabinet door. “What’d you expect when she fucks me on the regular?”
You what?
No, you goshdarn NOT! What does he mean rEguLaR, it happened ONE TIME! Well, one time after you made your arrangement official. Well, one time as in this is the very first installment of the said arrangement.
IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’VE BEEN COUNTING YOU’VE FUCKED TWELVE TIMES TODAY!
The questions in your head are about to drive you crazy. Is this for real, or is it a bit? Has Jungkook given him some instructions beforehand, and Taehyung’s just sticking to a script? Does Taehyung know what you and Jungkook actually are?
Do you know what you and Jungkook actually are?
Lost in the depths of your existential crisis, you haven’t even noticed Jungkook has made his way back to you. You gasp in surprise when he suddenly pulls on one of the chest straps and lets them unravel on their own to fully reveal your breasts, heaving a deep sigh at the sight.
“Rock hard,” he caresses your nipples with his thumbs. “God, it would look sexy as fuck with piercings. I’d cum untouched all over your pretty fucking face.”
He kneels to your left and wraps his lips around the hardened flesh, making you sigh just with sucks on your nipple. Taehyung follows suit on your right. With every deep exhale you let out, they moan a bit louder against your skin, and their soundwaves seep through you, rushing in your veins faster than your own blood.
“Come to my bed, beautiful,” Taehyung whispers into your ear. “Let’s get cozier.”
Don’t think about ganging up on me. You listen to me, not him.
A wave of panic washes over you, and you instantly look at Jungkook to gauge his reaction since defying him is not even the last thing you want. Much to your surprise, he gives permission with a nod, lightly pushing your chest to climb on the mattress. Taehyung rests his back against his headboard and pulls you into his lap, making you sit right between his legs. Your heart’s about to give out watching Jungkook crawl towards you, your blood pressure through the roof as he wraps his arms around your thighs.
Then he hits one lick from your clit, and your entire life flashes before your eyes.
A warm sensation starts spreading from your core to the rest of your body. Taehyung’s feather-like touch on your skin feels like he’s groping you as hard as he can. Jungkook’s tongue feels like he has three of them, making you flow a river in his mouth. Fuck ruining the sheets, you’re probably soaking through the mattress, and you are suddenly hit with these intense cravings. You want it to get worse, get harder, messier. You want it to get to a point where you have to beg for mercy. And you want them to turn a deaf ear and keep going until they both have their fill with you.
The lavender culprit is caught red-handed in the middle of a home invasion.
“What a good boy, isn’t he?” Taehyung softly chuckles, handing you the chains of Jungkook’s collar. “But I think he can eat better. What do you say?”
Your eyes find Jungkook as a knee-jerk reaction, and when he nods again, you wrap the chain around your hand and tug on it as harshly as you can. Instead of getting ticked off, he smiles into your pussy, absolutely loving this, and starts flicking his tongue on your clit with double the speed.
“Shh, no cumming,” he warns when your breathing quickens.
Then you find yourself in yet another ceaseless loop.
He brings you to the very edge, then stops. Brings you to the edge, then stops. Every time you’re about to cum, you force yourself to move away from him, and you do, but not because you can. Only because he lets you. Only because he can’t get enough of watching you lube yourself up.
“I said,” he sternly repeats, “no cumming.”
“Please,” you hold his head in between your hands to stop him. “P–Please slow down. I c— I can’t…”
But he doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t stop. He just keeps eating as if he wants to emboss your taste on his tongue permanently, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You just listen. You just take. You just selfishly receive just like he asked you to, and collect your good girl stickers one after the other.
Something within Taehyung snaps so abruptly that he suddenly spreads your legs even wider apart, heavily breathing down your neck.
“Faster,” he demands, growling through his gritted teeth like he’s the one being relentlessly stimulated. “Make her fucking come apart.”
“Please, don’t, I c— I can’t hold i— JUNGKOOK, PLEASE, FUCK!!!”
Maybe Taehyung’s body is covered in kerosene and Jungkook’s tongue is an arson-worthy match, and they call this shit normal when they set people’s bodies on fire just because they can. You can’t pinpoint the origin point of the blaze, though. Part of it is lust; you can tell that much, but there seems to be some other stuff lacing it.
“Aww, embarrassed?” Jungkook hands you the answer himself, more affectionately than taunting. “Did it feel too good?”
That orgasm was a fucking brain freeze—you have a slight headache and a complete blank slate in your head. You can’t produce a single word. All you can do is nod, but you’re dreading the punishment that’s going to follow for stepping out of line.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he pacifies you, kissing all over your thighs. “Now Tae needs to keep your legs up for me, okay? Don’t worry, he’s gonna take very good care of you.”
You nod again.
“Good girl,” he steals a quick peck from your lips, adding one more sticker to your little scrapbook.
As Jungkook ties the straps on your chest back up, Taehyung loosens his death grip on you, his large hands tenderly massaging your sore thighs, and he drowns you in kisses all over your neck, your cheeks, and your lips. He’s pampering you so much that you might just fall asleep in his embrace. He pulls you back to earth with a little bite on your ear and spreads your legs again, holding them from behind your knees, and lifts them up. The strategic carving puts both your holes on full display for Jungkook, and it makes you feel a little too vulnerable.
And he absolutely drooools at the sight.
“I’m gonna fucking pass out, just look at this. Made to be used,” he hisses in delight, rubbing the tip of the plug against your drenched folds to get it wet. “You’re throbbing. You like it when I do this?”
If you could talk, you would throw some snark like, “Oh, I don’t know, is water wet, headass?” That tank crash of an orgasm paired with Taehyung’s kiss coma has turned you into an absolute puddle, and of course it makes you clench when this motherfucker talks to you like that.
“Do you want to be stuffed full, baby?” he stares at you like a starving hyena. “Craving your man’s cock again?”
Oh, he needs to shut the FUCK UP!
You know Jungkook to be a very smart man, if not the smartest one in your personal directory. He is perfectly capable of doing risk analyses, as well, so how come he can’t see how fucking dangerous his word choices are?!
How come he can’t see you’re trying so hard to stop yourself from believing that… that he…
“I’m gonna give it to you just the way you like it very very soon,” he places a soft kiss on your clit, then gently spreads your cheeks. “Now let’s make you prettier.”
He keeps dragging his tongue up to your oozing entrance, then down to your hips, smearing your slick everywhere. Your tensed thighs start to relax, but you still flinch with each lick into your tighter hole, no matter how careful he is.
“Deep breaths, beautiful,” Taehyung soothes you, his kisses still at work like a cozy blanket. “Focus on the pleasure. Doesn’t his tongue feel so fucking good in there?”
You fervently nod, no longer possessing enough strength to even open your eyes. You bask in that false sense of security Jungkook’s languid rhythm gives you, then properly jolt when he traps your clit between his lips again. He sucks on it with the happiest hums, and you finally feel the cold of the metal gingerly prodding your hole, soaking wet with your slick. He reaches for your hand, tightly locking his fingers with yours, and with each shallow thrust, the plug sinks a bit deeper inside you.
“Just like that. You’re doing so great. Look how happy you’re making hi— Theeere you go,” Taehyung keeps comforting you, grinning bigger when Jungkook swims back up to the surface again. “Looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”
“Sexiest fucking thing. I’m getting her one of these for daily use,” Jungkook damn near froths at the mouth with all the excitement crawling under his skin, then he leans into your face. “Comfortable?”
“I’ll… I’ll adjust,” you take another deep breath.
“Yes, you will. Of course you will. You’re so good for me,” he gives you a deep kiss, worth at least five stickers, then turns to Taehyung. “Let’s get this shit started.”
He hands Taehyung his phone, then pulls the armchair to the side of the bed, sitting on it with his legs resting on the mattress. As he’s testing the connection quality of his “dynamic cam”, Taehyung sets up the stream with what he thinks is a catchy title.
borrowing his girl bc i lost my fleshlight
“How does it feel to know we’re gonna make thousands of people cum tonight?” Taehyung pulls you under his arm.
“Kinda scary to realize how much I’m loving this,” you honestly respond.
He breaks into a satisfied smile, holds the phone up for you to see the screen, and finally hits “Stream”.
It’s just him in the frame for now, but you can see the flood of comments, flying by so fast that it’s impossible to catch a single word, let alone read them in full. Merely thirty seconds in, the viewer count is already at five digits and counting, and only then do you comprehend what a huge reach Taehyung actually has.
In your defense, who the fuck checks engagement stats when gooning?
“Hello there, my hellhounds. I have a really special treat for you tonight,” he greets his rabid fanbase. “An old friend is visiting with his girlfriend, but the thing is, they are a bit of an… experimental couple.”
What the FUCK kinda insane wording is that?!
This again. You just can’t tell if Taehyung is winging it or following instructions, but unfortunately, you don’t have the time to freak out about this right now. You shake your head and channel all your attention to the chat. The comments have slowed way down now; only Taehyung’s top subscribers have the privilege to stay on screen long enough to be noticed by him.
“So something interesting will take place here,” Taehyung shifts the camera to include you in the frame, showing you wave at the screen. “You get to fuck this beauty with me.”
ohhh pretty 🥰
are u set on 🍆 queen bc I'd wife the shit out of you. RESPECTFULLY!
is the other half in the bed with you?
“He is filming us right now,” Taehyung turns to his director. “Say hi.”
Jungkook switches the feed to his POV, showing you and Taehyung snuggling on the bed, and wiggles his fingers in front of the lens. When the greeting is that veiled, of course it would leave the catastrophically horny audience unimpressed.
standard cuck or confident king?
need deets tae
hotness scale 1 to 100 🎤
“Oh, infinity. He’s so hot you’d fucking cream yourselves with a single look,” he instantly confirms. “Ripped body. Super charming. Tried hitting that myself actually, but he just doesn’t put out.”
All three of you laugh lazily, but it’s like Jungkook’s volume is somehow amplified in your ears. And even that much is enough to make your clit buzz as if he’s still vehemently munching on it.
What even…?
caaaap show us the body
vids or it didn't happen
“Tsk, what did I even do to deserve this distrust?” Taehyung sighs, shaking his head in disapproval. “Get your tight ass up. They won’t believe me.”
Jungkook sets the phone down and stands up, and Taehyung orchestrates the perfect reveal. That mouthwatering physique is even more gorgeous under the red lights, and the tattoos look like a glow-in-the-dark map showing exactly where to lick. It’s not an unfamiliar sight by now, but the chain around his neck still makes your pussy throb, and his hard on pressing against his pants is about to make you cum untouched. As if to agree with you, the comments go off.
But it makes your feelings murky.
A part of you feels a bit of thrill that people find him this sexy, but another part of you feels insanely jealous for the very same reason. It’s nothing logically explicable. You simultaneously want everyone to drool over him, but also to not perceive him whatsoever.
HOOOOOLY FUCK 🫦
tae if ur fucking his girl someone should fuck him too its only fair hi im someone
whats his name? 👀
“His name is… JK,” Taehyung divulges. “Shall we get started?”
Jungkook sits back down and takes control of the feed, nodding to signal your cue. Taehyung sets his phone to the side and shifts your body to straddle him.
Then something really weird happens.
You have masturbated to this man’s porn countless times. You still do on insomniac nights to tire yourself out. You have thirsted over him online and offline using excessively crass language, talking about what you would let him do to you day in and day out, whenever he wants, however he wants. The very same man just touches your face, but your heart still falls out of your chest. Because it feels like you’re cheating on Jungkook.
But WHY?
“He wants to watch you enjoy yourself, otherwise he wouldn’t bring you here,” Taehyung discreetly whispers in your ear, strangely reassuring. “Trust me.”
When he pulls away, you stare at his lips for a few seconds, forcing your brain into a hard reset, and submit your request.
“Then let’s see what all the full experience hype is about.”
He reciprocates your grin with an equally dangerous one, and when he takes your lips within his, the lavender culprit hijacks the feed of your brain. Whatever worry has started to bubble up is immediately put out when his tongue swirls around yours, and you let yourself go, just savoring Taehyung’s taste on your palate. It almost makes you laugh to notice he actually kisses like he eats pussy—with so much gusto, a little messy, and the wet sounds making you tingle in certain places.
“If that’s how you taste everywhere, I’m in fucking trouble,” he barely opens his eyes when he breaks the kiss, flashing an already fucked out smile.
“Then lucky for you, I don’t. Otherwise you would have tasted my man’s cum on my tongue.”
You have NO IDEA where the fuck that even came from, but with your inhibitions taking a nosedive, you don’t feel as embarrassed as you think you should. Heck, why should you? Jungkook was the one calling himself “your man” to your face, and so what if you’re just going along with it? HA!
Embarrassment may not be there, but you are still dead scared to look him in the eye. You just don’t want to see his reaction, especially if it will make you feel bad, so you deploy everything in your power to pretend he’s not there at all.
Then he goes ahead and forces you to acknowledge his presence, that motherfucker.
Oh, you hear him alright. You hear him loud and clear. You hear the way he hisses in delight as if he wants you to know he’s about to overdose on arousal, and it’s getting to your head so bad that he’s like this because he’s watching another man pleasure you.
Oh, you’re sooo fucked…
“So thoughtful of you. How did you know I like my donuts glazed?” Taehyung speaks politely like the royalty he is, catching you completely off guard when he suddenly flips you over. “You really shouldn’t have.”
And this is why Taehyung is called a prince. The prince of the nether realm, but still… He slithers down between your legs, but he is very cognizant that you had a feral animal going to town on you just moments ago. He works to soothe your body first, gives plenty of attention to your thighs, to every inch of your labia, just leaving very soft kisses all over. Only when he deems you are ready to endure his tongue does he cannonball into your pussy.
Also like a feral animal…
Of course you have wondered if he fakes it at all; the man performs for a living, but turns out Taehyung’s just a bona fide munch-ficionado. He completely loses himself in your taste, and you cannot believe you have the privilege of watching him make out with a pussy in 4K times infinity. From front row center!
“Mm, creamy,” he looks up at you expectantly. “Would you say I really know how to use that tongue, too?”
“Not bad at all,” you smile back at him.
i will NEVER get tired of watching this man eat pussy
that clit 🫠
sooooo lickable 😮💨
zoom please!
Ever the fanservicing director, Jungkook zooms to the maximum, capturing the tongue-to-clit connection perfectly.
“Just tease it with the tip of your tongue. Don’t put any pressure.”
WHAT THE FUCK HIS VOICE???!!!!!
sir you shutting up is a crime against humanity tf
PLEEEEEASE DO A LIVE COMMENTARY
“Live commentary?” Jungkook chortles. “Your audience is way too horny, T.”
“Of course they are,” Taehyung loudly slurps on your slick. “Why do you think we vibe so hard?”
“Give me a good angle. Cheek to thigh. Theeeere you go,” Jungkook approvingly nods, then switches the feed to your cam. “Show us how he munches on that clit, baby.”
Sure, would he like you to fucking DIE, as well?
You pick up Taehyung’s phone, filming him from the most salacious angle possible, and you suddenly hear a belt unbuckling to your right. Your clit throbs for whatever reason, and when you instinctively turn to the source of the sound, you almost combust seeing Jungkook stroking his girth.
Needless to say, it makes you throb harder.
“Gotta give it to you, Taeritorrials, your man knows how to eat,” he confesses to the audience. “Got me hard as fuck just watching.”
“Hear that?” Taehyung smirks, dying of ego inflation. “Tell him how my tongue feels on your cunt.”
“God, it feels fucking incredible…”
SUB GUYS FTW OH MY GOD YOU GOOD BOI YOU
jerk it jk
what else turns you on 👉👈
“Me? Everything about this girl turns me the fuck on.”
You kinda hate that you can’t see the comment feed because you’re dying to know what the context of this cursed conversation is. Meanwhile, Jungkook puts his own cam feed next to yours, showing how he lazily strokes his cock.
“I get so many intrusive thoughts about fucking her, I should be institutionalized. Look at what she does to me.”
omg simp
SIIIIIMP
taeritorrials adopt u jk <333
“Well, thank you,” he giggles. “Don’t you think your man should also jerk it while eating my girl’s pretty pussy?”
Well, no one has to tell Taehyung twice. His tongue not leaving your clit for one second, he unbuckles his belt and gets rid of his pants, giving Jungkook the perfect material to zoom in on.
will never not make my pussy throb that fucking SIZE
need to sit on it rn
rn? try EVERY DAMN DAY
Jungkook has endured so much worse than this before and managed to stay perfectly unrattled. He is inclined to blame the lavender culprit for his silent spiral because every moan you let out, he feels it reverberate all over his body. Every glance you steal from him, he hears it as you calling out his name. Every time you touch Taehyung, he deludes himself into thinking you yearn to touch him instead.
And on the seventh-minute mark, he finally fucking loses it.
<< previous
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when the stoic and devastatingly handsome sir jeon jungkook is appointed as your personal knight, sworn to guard your royal highness with a will forged from steel, you quickly discover that his greatest strength may also be his most infuriating trait, he is utterly immune to you. no matter how tightly you lace your corset, he remains the perfect knight, eyes respectfully averted, jaw set like stone. but while sir jungkook may be a man of steel, you are a princess accustomed to getting what you want, and with every sinful intention of discovering whether even the realm’s most loyal knight could be brought to his knees for you.
⎯⎯ pairing: knight jungkook x princess y/n
warnings: erotica, forbidden medieval fantasy au, porn with plot, age gap, yearning, size difference, oral fixation (f.), unprotected sex, the princess is very horny, cold,dom!knight, bigdick!knight, breeding, pregnancy trope, war brutality, motherhood, subtle angst
word count: 20.5k
The great hall of the royal palace echoed with the murmurs of the assembled court. The King sat upon his throne, his stern gaze sweeping over the line of elite knights who had come to compete for the highest honor in the realm, becoming the personal protector of his only daughter, the princess, you.
The position was coveted for many reasons, but none more obvious than the princess herself.
Beauty had always been your burden as much as your blessing. Tales of it traveled farther than merchants and faster than ravens, crossing borders until even distant courts spoke your name with a mixture of admiration and longing. Princes penned verses in your honor without ever meeting you. Even seasoned knights, men hardened by war and duty, often found themselves disarmed by nothing more than a smile.
With your coronation fast approaching, the kingdom stood on the brink of celebration. It would be the grandest event seen in decades, drawing princes, dignitaries from every corner of the continent. Some would arrive seeking alliances. Most would arrive seeking you.
The prospect amused you more than it excited you.
“Protecting my daughter is not merely a matter of strength,” your father’s voice boomed through the hall. “It demands unyielding discipline and absolute loyalty. You will each face three trials. The princess herself will accompany you, so that you may prove your worth in her presence.”
Your eyes swept slowly across the line of knights standing before the throne, a faint mask of boredom kissing your beautiful face, certain that none of them would truly be able to handle you.
For years, entertaining yourself at the expense of knights had become something of a pastime. A lingering touch against a gauntleted hand, a mere whispered compliment that left disciplined warriors suddenly forgetting their own names. Watching them struggle to maintain their composure was endlessly amusing.
You had notoriously toyed with men like this, living wildly beneath the weight of your royal title, and your father knew this better than anyone. That was precisely why he had designed these trials.
He wasn’t simply looking for the strongest sword arm. He wanted a knight with sharp intellect and the rare ability to withstand your constant attempts to live life on your terms rather than as a perfectly mannered princess.
A small, intrigued smile played on your lips when the first few knights stepped forward. They were impressive in brute force, but you could already tell they would crumble the moment you decided to play.
Then he stepped forward.
Sir Jeon Jungkook.
Even fully armored, with only his dark, piercing eyes visible through the narrow slit of his helmet, once his unflinching gaze met yours for a brief second, a strange spark ignited low in your belly. You tilted your head, studying those dark eyes with growing interest.
The first trial took place that very evening in the smaller banquet hall. Only a select few courtiers were present. You sat at the high table beside your father, sipping from a jeweled goblet.
Unknown to the competing knights, the King had arranged for one of the wine pitchers to be laced with a powerful sleeping draught. Harmless, but potent enough to leave the princess disoriented and vulnerable. Only the King, a few trusted advisors, and the princess herself knew of the plan.
The knights had been given only one instruction: protect the princess. No further details.
As the evening progressed, the effects of the draught began to take hold. Your thoughts grew pleasantly hazy, movements slower. The jeweled goblet nearly slipped from your grasp once before you caught it. A second time, you laughed at something that had not been particularly funny.
Several knights noticed. Some were too busy trying to appear vigilant, eyes constantly scanning the room for imaginary assassins.
A few noticed your condition and drew dangerously close. One insisted on helping you stand despite the fact that you had not asked for assistance. Another rested a hand against your lower back almost inappropriately while guiding you through the room. One knight even smiled when he realized how heavily you leaned upon him after stumbling.
The courtiers watched everything. So did the King.
You were beginning to feel genuinely annoyed when a tall figure stepped silently between you and yet another overeager knight.
Sir Jeon Jungkook.
Unlike the others, he had not hovered around you all evening. He had remained where a royal protector belonged, close enough to intervene, distant enough to respect your space.
Dark eyes studied your face through the narrow opening of his helmet. “The princess has had enough wine,” he declared.
The knight beside you scoffed. “She seems perfectly fin—”
“She does not.”
You watched surprise flicker across the other knight’s face.
Sir Jungkook’s hand briefly closed around your forearm as you swayed, steadying you before immediately letting go the moment your balance returned.
Within moments he had summoned two ladies-in-waiting to accompany you back to your chambers. When another knight offered to carry you himself, Sir Jungkook declined on your behalf before you could even answer.
“Her reputation is as important as her safety.”
For the first time all evening, genuine curiosity stirred within you.
Most men saw opportunity when they looked at you. Some saw beauty, a few saw a future crown. Yet somehow, Sir Jeon Jungkook seemed to see only his duty.
As the ladies guided you toward the doorway, you glanced back over your shoulder.
“How noble of you, Sir Jungkook,” you teased, voice softened by the draught. “Are you always so resistant to temptation?”
His gaze never wavered. “My duty is to protect Your Highness.”
For reasons you could not quite explain, that response lingered in your thoughts far longer than any flirtatious remark ever had.
The final trial was, by all appearances, the simplest.
After weeks of staged attacks, hidden tests, the remaining candidates expected one final demonstration of skill. Some anticipated a duel. Others believed they would be sent to defend the princess from another fabricated threat. Instead, the King announced that the last trial would consist of a single week of personal duty beside the princess. No further explanation was offered.
The knights were disappointed.
You, however, knew exactly what your father was doing.
The trial was not designed to test strength or intelligence. It was designed to test restraint.
Most of the candidates failed within days. Some became overly eager whenever you requested their company.
Others ignored palace protocol the moment you suggested bending the rules. One knight allowed you to wander through the city market without informing the royal guard because he was too eager to please you. Another accepted an invitation to share wine in one of the palace balconies despite knowing perfectly well how improper it appeared. Every failure was carefully observed and quietly recorded.
Only one knight remained infuriatingly impossible.
Sir Jeon Jungkook.
The more you watched him, the more determined you became to discover his weakness. Surely he had one. Everyone did.
At first, your attempts were harmless. During walks through the palace gardens, you lingered beside him instead of remaining ahead as protocol dictated. During meals, you directed most of your conversation toward him. More than once, you deliberately brushed your fingers against the steel of his gauntlet while speaking. Other knights would have turned crimson. Some would have stumbled over their own words.
Sir Jungkook merely stepped aside and continued his duties as though nothing had happened.
Perhaps it was the way every other knight had spent the past weeks attempting to impress you, the King, or the court.
Where others sought favor, he sought only to fulfill his duty. And thus, when the day of the final judgment arrived, the outcome surprised absolutely no one.
Your father rose slowly from his seat.
“Sir Jeon Jungkook,” he declared, voice echoing through the hall. “You have successfully completed all trials. You have shown not only strength and intellect, but the rare ability to anticipate danger and resist… temptation.” His gaze flicked briefly to you. “From this day forward, you are hereby appointed as the princess’s personal royal knight and protector. Guard her with your life. And may the gods help you.”
A murmur rippled through the court.
You turned toward Sir Jeon Jungkook, stepping just close enough that your crimson gown brushed his armor.
“Welcome to my service, Sir Jungkook,” you whispered so only he could hear. “I do hope you’re prepared. Resisting me may prove to be your greatest trial yet.”
His dark eyes held yours with unshakable strength. “I was under the impression I had already passed that one, Your Highness.”
—
Having Sir Jeon Jungkook follow you around all day wasn’t ideal.
It had not even been three months since his appointment as your royal knight, yet his constant, silent presence had already begun to grate on your nerves. He was always a towering shadow in dark armor, never more than a few steps behind. What annoyed you most was his utter lack of reaction.
No matter how boldly you flirted, no matter how you tightened your corset in front of him until your breasts nearly spilled over, no matter how many times you “accidentally” brushed against him, he remained perfectly composed.
What bothered you most of all was that you still had no idea what he looked like. Only those dark, intense eyes visible through the narrow slit of his helmet. The rest of him remained hidden behind steel, a constant, frustrating mystery.
The journey to the neighboring kingdom for the grand alliance celebration had been long and stifling. You rode in the royal ornate covered carriage borne by four strong horses and guarded on all sides. The extravagant gown you wore was beautiful but suffocating, the tight corset pressing against your ribs and making every breath feel like a struggle. Boredom weighed on you like lead.
Your dearest friend, Lady Isolde rode beside you in her own litter. She was to be wed in a month, and the two of you had spent the journey giggling like girls again, whispering behind silk curtains.
“He’s so tall,” Isolde teased, peeking through the gap toward where Sir Jeon Jungkook rode steadily beside your litter. “And those eyes… I wonder what the rest of him looks like under all that steel. Do you think he’s handsome, or just another brute?”
You laughed softly, though your gaze lingered on the narrow slit of Jungkook’s helmet, where those dark, intense eyes remained fixed forward.
“As if,” you replied, laced with mock boredom. “He’s far too proper. I could tighten my corset until my breasts nearly spill, and he wouldn’t even glance.”
Isolde giggled. “You should try. For science.”
Sir Jungkook’s eyes flicked toward the litter for the briefest second before returning forward. You smirked. Annoyed as you were by his constant, unflinching presence… you were also undeniably intrigued.
That night, after the feasting and music had died down and the royal party made camp near the forest’s edge, you slipped away, desperate for even a moment of peace, and determined to test just how far his restraint could stretch.
The air had grown chilly, carrying the faint bite of early autumn as you made your way to the forbidden stretch of the deep bend where the river water ran swift and dangerously deep. No one was permitted here after dark, especially not the princess.
You knew he would follow.
The heavy footsteps of armor soon echoed behind you on the rocky bank.
“Your Highness,” Sir Jungkook’s deep voice rang out, firm. “This area is strictly prohibited at night. The currents are treacherous and the water is far too cold. We must return to the palace at once.”
You barely looked at him. Your eyes were fastened upon the vast expanse of the river, moonlight dancing across its dark surface like scattered diamonds. You wanted nothing more than to feel the cool waves kissing your bare skin, to swim freely under the moon with no eyes judging you in, except his.
A small, unusually kind smile touched your lips as you turned toward him.
“Why don’t you join me, Sir Jungkook?” you asked softly, your voice carrying on the gentle night breeze. “Just for a little while. The water looks so peaceful tonight.”
Sir Jungkook stood like a statue in his dark armor. “Your Highness… that would be highly improper,” he replied, voice low. “I am here to protect you, not to… bathe with you.”
You let out a soft, melodic laugh and began walking toward the river’s edge, the hem of your gown brushing the grass.
“Well, I suppose then…” you bit your lip, your fingers moving to the laces of your gown with aching slowness. “I shall swim, and you will stand guard like the loyal knight you are.”
You could feel his intense eyes watching through the narrow slit of his helmet as you loosened the ties. The rich fabric slid from your shoulders like liquid silk, pooling at your feet.
Completely bare under the moonlight, you wore nothing beneath. Your skin glowed luminous and your full breasts rose and fell with each breath, nipples already stiff from the cold night air. The curve of your waist flared into soft hips, and the smooth, delicate skin between your thighs was on full display.
Sir Jungkook immediately turned his head sharply away, staring fixedly into the dark trees.
“Your Highness!” His voice was strained. “This is highly inappropriate. I cannot allow—”
“You don’t have to allow anything,” you cut him off, dripping with defiance. “You’re not permitted to touch me while I’m bare. So you’ll just have to stand there.”
You waded into the river with a soft gasp. The icy water bit into your skin, but the thrill of rebellion pushed you forward. You swam out deeper, the cold making your body hypersensitive.
You glanced back at the bank. Sir Jungkook stood like a statue, head turned away, refusing to look at your naked form even once. His armored fists were clenched tightly at his sides.
A thrill of satisfaction ran through you.
You felt exhilarated. Free. And wickedly aware that the most disciplined man in the kingdom was standing on the bank, fighting not to look at you.
“Are you really going to stand there all night, Sir Jungkook? The water feels wonderful… and I’m all alone out here.” You swam further out, the cold water caressing every inch of your bare skin. A soft, content sigh escaped your lips.
It would be a plain lie if you said you weren’t at least a little relieved that he had followed you. The deep bend was no joke. its treacherous currents and deadly depth were feared even by The King. Yet here you were, aching to tear down the walls of the knight who refused to bend to your charms.
You floated lazily on your back, letting the moonlight kiss your bare skin. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you took your chance.
Once a subtle current tugged at your legs, you gasped dramatically, flailing your arms and letting out a soft, helpless cry. “Oh—!”
You fought back a giggle, pretending to be a damsel in distress, knowing the current wasn’t strong enough to truly endanger you. You wanted to see if you could finally crack his composure.
But the gods had other plans.
Without warning, a far more treacherous undercurrent slammed into you like a living beast. It dragged you under violently, twisting your body, filling your mouth and nose with icy water. Real panic surged through you as you lost your breath and sight in the black depths.
“Jungkook!” you screamed, the sound barely coherent as water rushed into your lungs. This time, it was no act.
Sir Jeon Jungkook did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He plunged into the river fully armored, cutting through the violent current with powerful strokes. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, yanking your naked body against his steel chest as he fought the river with raw, expert strength. You clung to him desperately, coughing and gasping as he dragged you back to the rocky bank.
The moment he pulled you ashore, his helmet caught on a low hanging branch and was ripped clean off.
You lay on the grass, gasping for air, when your eyes finally focused on the man hovering above you.
And you forgot how to breathe.
Sir Jeon Jungkook was devastatingly, unfairly handsome.
Wet raven black hair clung to his forehead and sharp, sculpted cheekbones. Water droplets traced the strong line of his jaw and dripped from sensual lips. His dark eyes, now fully exposed, were intense and beautiful, framed by long lashes and thick brows. A faint scar graced his left eyebrow, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise perfect masculine beauty.
Before you could speak, he swiftly grabbed his crimson cloak and draped it over your naked body, covering you completely with careful reverence. His gaze remained locked strictly on your face, never once drifting to your exposed skin.
“Are you okay, Your Highness?” he asked, voice rough with concern. A faint blush colored his cheeks as he noticed the way you were staring at his now-bare face.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The combination of the dangerous current, the shock of nearly drowning, and the overwhelming sight of your knight’s true face left you dizzy and speechless.
Your vision blurred. You passed out in his arms.
Sir Jungkook pulled you closer against his armored chest, one large hand gently brushed your wet hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly tender. He lifted you effortlessly, cradling you like a warrior carrying his lady, your head resting against his broad shoulder, body wrapped securely in his cloak, legs draped over his arm as he carried you back to his mare.
He mounted carefully, keeping you nestled safely against him as the horse began the journey back to the palace through secret paths.
You woke briefly as he laid you down on the thick rug before the hearth in your royal chambers. The fire was already roaring. You were still wrapped in his cloak, beneath it only a thin silk bandeau now clung to your body, the delicate material barely containing your breasts, pressing them together in a deep, soft cleavage that rose and fell with each shaky breath.
You trembled from the cold and the lingering shock of the river.
Sir Jeon Jungkook remained kneeling by the fire, his movements precise as he stoked the flames. Water dripped from his raven hair onto his armoured shoulders. Then he rose to his full, imposing height, towering, broad shouldered.
Without a word, he reached for his helmet, which rested upon a nearby oak chest, clearly intending to conceal his face once more.
“No,” you whispered, your voice soft yet commanding as you pushed yourself up on one elbow. “Do not put it back on.”
The knight paused, gloved hand hovering above the helm. His dark eyes met yours, intense and conflicted.
“Your Highness… it is not fitting for me to stand before you unveiled,” he said, his voice carrying the formal cadence of a sworn knight. “I must maintain the dignity of my position.”
You sat up fully, the cloak slipping slightly from one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of your skin and the edge of the silk bandeau. Despite the cold still clinging to your bones, warmth bloomed low in your belly as you gazed upon his face, truly beheld it for the first time.
“Come closer,” You rose to your knees on the rug, the cloak parting further as you reached for him. “Let me see you properly.”
He hesitated, every line of his powerful frame taut with restraint. Yet he obeyed, lowering himself once more to kneel before you. Even on his knees, he remained nearly at your eye level, so tall and broad was he.
You lifted a delicate hand and brushed your fingers through his damp raven locks, pushing them back from his forehead. A contented sigh escaped your lips.
“You are far too pleasing to look upon, Sir Jungkook,” you whispered, almost in awe. “I had wondered what lay beneath that steel. Never did I imagine such a face.”
Sir Jungkook remained perfectly still on his knees before you. His hands rested tensely on his armoured thighs as he fought to keep his gaze fixed on your face and not the way your breasts strained against the thin silk bandeau.
“You flatter me, Your Highness,” he replied, voice low. “But I am your knight. Nothing more. Please allow me to restore my helmet.”
You shook your head slowly, refusing to let him hide again. Instead, you leaned closer, your fingers still buried in his damp raven hair.
A new, overwhelming wave of admiration and obsession washed over you. This man... this mature, hardened, breathtakingly handsome knight was kneeling before you like a devotee. The realization sent a fresh rush of heat between your thighs.
“You’re older than me, aren’t you?” you murmured softly, continuing to caress his hair with gentle strokes. “Hardened by battles and years I haven’t yet seen.”
You wondered how many more scars he carried beneath that heavy armor hidden across his broad chest, his strong back.
“I am twenty eight, Your Highness,” he answered quietly, his deep voice carrying that disciplined tone you were growing addicted to.
“Tell me something personal,” you said, your voice turning playful yet curious. Your fingers trailed from his hair down to trace his cheekbone once more. “Have you ever been with a woman, Sir Jeon? Truly been with one?”
His jaw tightened visibly. The question crossed every boundary a knight was sworn to respect.
“Your Highness… such questions are not appropriate for me to answer,” he replied. You leaned in even closer, still stroking his hair tenderly, your breath brushing against his skin.
“But I want to know,” you whispered. “Have you ever touched a woman the way a man touches a lover? Ever kissed one?”
Jungkook’s breathing grew slightly heavier. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours with iron discipline, though you could clearly see the storm brewing behind them.
“I have not, Your Highness,” he finally answered, voice low and honest. “My duty has always come first.”
A thrill ran through you at his confession. You let your fingers drift lower, brushing along his sharp jawline. “And if a woman wanted you… desperately?” your voice dropped to a near whisper. “If she wanted your mouth between her thighs… your tongue tasting her, would you deny her?”
The impure question hung heavy in the air between you. You shocked even yourself with how boldly it slipped out, but the vivid image, his devastatingly handsome face trapped between your legs, mouth glistening with your arousal made the heat bloom even more slick between your thighs.
Sir Jungkook’s hands clenched tighter on his armored thighs. A faint flush colored the tips of his ears and neck, but he remained on his knees.
“Your Highness,” he said, reverently, “I am sworn to protect you. Not to… indulge in such thoughts.”
You smiled softly. Then you leaned back on the bed, letting the crimson cloak fall open completely. The thin silk bandeau was the only thing left covering you, and even that felt too much now.
“Then I command you,” You looked down at him, this powerful knight on his knees before you, and felt a rush of pure need. “I want your mouth on me, Jungkook. Right now.”
“Your Highness, I—”
“Touch me,” you breathed, cutting him off. “Please, Jungkook…”
You reached down and grabbed his gloved hand, bringing it to your chest. Slowly, you pressed his large palm over the thin silk bandeau, letting him feel the soft, heavy weight of your breast. Your nipple was already painfully hard beneath the fabric.
Sir Jungkook’s breath hitched sharply. His entire body tensed, the muscles in his arm flexing under the armor as he fought against every instinct.
You didn’t stop there, dragging his hand lower, sliding it down your stomach until his fingers rested between your thighs. You were soaked. your petals slick and hot against his gloved fingers.
“Feel how damp you make me,” you whispered, voice shaking with need.
Sir Jungkook let out a low, strained groan. His dark eyes were fixed on your face, but you could see the violent war happening behind them.
The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on — the princess, the future queen, was laid out before him in nothing but a flimsy silk bandeau, legs spread, pressing his hand against her dripping cunt.
“Your Highness…” he rasped, albeit desperate. “This is beyond forbidden. You are royalty. I am sworn—”
“I don’t care,” you whimpered, grinding slowly against his gloved fingers. “I need you. I’ve never felt this way before. Touch me now, my knight. Please.”
His hand trembled. For a long moment, he simply rested there, feeling your wetness soak through the leather of his glove. Then, with a broken exhale that sounded like surrender, his fingers moved.
He stroked along your soaked folds, parting the delicate petals of your most secret flower. And what a flower it was... a lush, glistening rosebud blooming only for him. Your outer lips were soft and swollen with need, flushed deep, delicate like the first blush of dawn.
As he gently spread you open, the inner petals revealed themselves: silky, and impossibly tender, layered like the finest rose in full bloom after a summer rain. At the center lay your sweetest nectar, dripping and honeyed, flowing abundantly from your aching entrance.
The knight didn’t know what came over him, but your pulsing heat and slick, puckering folds had him utterly entranced. His breathing grew ragged. You could see the way his throat worked, the way his tongue unconsciously darted out to wet his lips. He was drooling.
“May I lick you, Your Highness?” he asked hoarsely, voice thick with barely contained hunger. “Please… allow me to taste you.”
The desperate plea from such a disciplined man sent a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you.
“Yes,” you breathed, spreading your thighs wider for him, your voice trembling with raw need. “Use your mouth on me, Jungkook. Lick your princess until she cannot think.”
The moment the words left your lips, something in him broke. Sir Jungkook leaned in and dragged his hot, wet tongue slowly up your soaked slit. The first full taste of you pulled a deep, guttural groan from his chest. You were intoxicatingly sweet and dripping with arousal. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring every slick fold as if he were drinking the finest wine in the kingdom.
You cried out sharply, back arching off the bed as overwhelming pleasure flooded your body. The sensation was brand new, so intense it made your legs twitch violently.
“Oh... Jungkook!” you moaned, fingers digging into his raven hair.
The knight’s tongue circled your swollen clit before sucking it gently into his mouth, then plunged inside your tight heat, ravishing you with slow, deep strokes. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth eagerly eating you echoed through the chamber, obscene, and shameless.
The most beautiful woman he had ever known, the future queen, was thrashing beneath him, legs shaking uncontrollably around his head, soft whimpers and loud moans spilling from her pretty lips.
Your hips rolled desperately against his face, coating his tongue, lips, and chin with your sweet release. Sir Jungkook drank every drop you gave him, groaning against your cunt as his own cock strained painfully against his armor.
He had never tasted anything so addictive.
You were already twitching, gasping, legs trembling so hard they threatened to close around his head. The pleasure was too much, too new, too overwhelming for your body.
Suddenly, Sir Jungkook pulled back slightly, his lips glistening with your juices. His dark eyes looked up at you, breathing ragged.
“Should I continue, Your Highness?” he asked hoarsely, voice thick with lust and devotion. “Tell me… do you want more?”
You could barely form words. Your body was shaking, pussy throbbing, dripping onto the mattress beneath you.
“Please don’t stop,” you whimpered desperately. “Keep licking me... please...”
The knight obeyed instantly. He buried his face back between your thighs and attacked your clit with relentless strokes of his tongue. Two thick fingers pushed inside you, curling perfectly against that sensitive spot while he sucked hard on your swollen pearl.
The pleasure hit you like a storm.
Your entire body seized up. A loud, broken scream tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you violently. Your thighs clamped around his head, hips bucking wildly against his mouth as you gushed on his tongue. Wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably, vision blurring at the edges.
You nearly passed out from the sheer intensity of it. body twitching, chest heaving, soft cries still falling from your lips as the pleasure refused to let go.
Sir Jungkook stayed between your thighs through every tremor, drinking down every last drop of your release like a man who had finally found salvation.
When your body finally went limp, trembling and oversensitive, he gently kissed your inner thigh before pulling back, his handsome face flushed and glistening with your arousal.
You could barely speak, still catching your breath as you stared at the sight of your proud, disciplined knight with your release shining on his lips.
—
“The Princess requires her knight’s escort to the eastern tower for stargazing.”
The message was innocent enough on paper. But the court had begun to notice how often you summoned Sir Jeon Jungkook for these private “duties.” Some whispered that the Princess trusted no one else. Others envied the knight who had earned such unwavering favor from the realm’s greatest beauty.
They had no idea what really happened once the tower door was bolted.
In the eastern tower under the stars, you would push Sir Jungkook against the cold stone wall and demand his mouth on you again. He always hesitated at first, “Your Highness, we mustn’t…” but the moment you looked at him with those wide, needy eyes and whispered “Please, Jungkook… I ache for you,” his resolve crumbled.
He would drop to his knees in full armor, push your skirts up to your waist, and bury his face between your thighs. The sounds he made while devouring you were filthy and desperately loud. wet slurps and deep groans as he drank every drop of your arousal. You quickly learned to muffle your loud moans against your own arm or his shoulder, thighs shaking violently around his head as he brought you to shattering orgasm after orgasm.
He never asked for anything in return at first. But one night, after he had made you come so hard you saw stars, you dropped to your knees in front of him, hands trembling as you freed his thick, aching cock from his breeches.
You had never seen the knight fully bare, but you had tasted him.
You took him into your mouth with clumsy but eager hunger, sucking and licking until he was groaning your name like a prayer, his gloved hand gently cradling the back of your head. When he spilled down your throat, you swallowed every drop, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.
The tension between you only grew hotter, more forbidden.
You began creating excuses just to be close to him.
You “accidentally” wandered into dangerous parts of the forest during hunts. You “lost” your way in the palace corridors at night. You deliberately teased foreign dignitaries until they grew too bold, all so Sir Jungkook would have to step in, pull you protectively against his armored chest, and hold you there while scolding you with his low voice.
Each time, you nestled your head against his chest plate, breathing in his scent, feeling safe in a way you had never felt with anyone else.
One quiet afternoon in the royal rose gardens, while the other knights kept their distance. The summer blooms were at their peak, rows upon rows of crimson roses spilling over marble trellises in a riot of color and fragrance. Courtiers often compared them to you. You had heard the comparison so many times throughout your life that it had long since lost all meaning.
Your attention was elsewhere when Sir Jungkook paused beside a rose bush heavy with crimson blooms. Reaching out, he selected a single flower and turned it thoughtfully between his fingers before approaching.
“A gift?” you asked.
“If Your Highness would accept it.”
The answer surprised a smile from you.
He stepped forward and tucked the rose behind your ear. His gloved fingers lingered only for a second before withdrawing, but even that brief touch seemed to affect him more than he wished to admit.
When you looked up, his gaze was fixed upon the flower. “Beautiful things are dangerous,” he said quietly.
You laughed. “I believe roses are dangerous for everyone except gardeners.”
His expression didn’t change.
“I wasn’t speaking about the rose.”
Your heart fluttered so violently you had to look away. it was becoming impossible to deny how deeply you were falling for him.
The kisses grew sloppier, more desperate with every stolen moment.
In the abandoned library, your knight would press you against the bookshelves, helmet removed, and kiss you like he was drowning, tongue sliding against yours, hands gripping your waist as if afraid you might vanish. You kissed him back just as hungrily, tugging at his hair, moaning softly into his mouth while your hand palmed the hard bulge in his breeches.
Your hunger for him was insatiable. You ached for his presence constantly. The court noticed how you lit up when he entered a room, how you instinctively moved closer to him during gatherings. They saw devotion, they saw trust.
They never saw the way you both held each other’s eyes like lovers who knew their time was stolen.
The relationship was utterly forbidden. Your father would banish him, or worse, if he ever discovered the truth. But neither of you could stop. Something real was blossoming between you.
The knight admired your wild, rebellious spirit. You admired his quiet strength and unwavering honor. In the darkness, you were no longer just princess and knight. You were becoming each other’s secret salvation. And it was only a matter of time before the tension finally snapped.
—
The Coronation.
The kingdom was in full celebration. Banners of the finest gold flew from every tower. The greatest event in decades had arrived, your coronation as Queen.
Princes from across the realms had come in droves, each more eager than the last to win your hand and the throne beside you. They brought lavish gifts, performed in grand tournaments, and showered you with compliments. The entire court watched with bated breath, waiting for you to choose.
You sat upon the raised dais in a breathtaking gown of white, looking every bit the ethereal queen-to-be. But your eyes kept drifting to the tall, armored figure standing silently behind your throne, Sir Jeon Jungkook.
He had become even more composed in public, yet you could feel the storm raging beneath his helmet. Especially when you decided to play your cruel little game.
Prince Min of Veina leaned close during the feast, whispering sweet nothings about your beauty. You laughed brightly, placing a hand on his arm, letting your fingers linger, leaning in just enough for your neckline to offer him a generous view of your breasts.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Sir Jungkook’s gloved hand tighten around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.
Another prince, a golden haired lord from the eastern isles, offered you a rose during the garden promenade. You accepted it with a coy smile, twirling it between your fingers while glancing toward your knight.
Sir Jungkook’s dark eyes burned behind the helmet. You could feel his jealousy like a living thing, hot and barely contained.
That night, after the feasting and dancing, you summoned him to the eastern tower under the usual pretense.
The moment the door closed, he was on you.
The knight pinned you against the cold stone wall. The single rose you’d been idly twirling between your fingers, a gift from one of the many princes, fell forgotten to the floor.
Sir Jungkook’s dark eyes burned with something almost feral.
“You will be wed off soon?” he growled dangerously, breath hot against your ear.
You looked up at him, heart racing. Your long, wavy hair had finally been let down after the long day, cascading over your shoulders and hips like dark silk. The tight corset of your white coronation gown was already loosened, the fabric slipping slightly off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of your skin.
“What do you think about Prince Min?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head. “I think he’s quite lovely. So charming. He even said he would worship me every night once we’re wed.”
Sir Jungkook’s jaw clenched so hard you heard it crack. The jealousy that had been simmering all day threatening to explode.
“Doesn’t it drive you mad, Sir Jeon?” You leaned in closer, letting your breasts brush against his armored chest. “Knowing your princess, the one you’ve been secretly devouring every night, is wanted by so many powerful men? That they all dream of putting a ring on my finger and taking me to their beds?”
“It is exquisite torture, Your Highness,” he growled, eyes burning. “Watching them look at you like they have any right to you. Knowing I’m the only one who’s ever tasted you, the only one who’s ever made you scream.”
His raw honesty sent a sharp thrill through you. You bit your lip, loving the way jealousy sharpened his features, making his dark eyes appear even more intense. He was possessive and barely holding himself back. And you wanted to push him further.
You stepped away from the wall with a teasing smile, walking over to the tall, gilded mirror that stood near the fireplace. The white gown still clung to your body, hair cascading in long, wild waves down your back. You picked up a silver brush and began slowly running it through it, watching him in the reflection.
Sir Jungkook followed you like a shadow, stopping just behind you. His tall, powerful frame loomed in the mirror, twice your size, radiating heat and restrained fury.
“Does that bother you, my knight?” A teasing smile played on your lips. “Knowing that soon I might have to let another man—”
You didn’t get to finish. Sir Jungkook’s large hand closed around your wrist, stopping the brush mid stroke. He plucked it from your fingers and set it down with a deliberate clack. His other hand gripped your hip, pulling your back flush against his armored chest.
Your breath hitched. The playful boldness you’d been wielding all night vanished in an instant.
“Enough,” he growled low against your ear, “You’ve teased me enough tonight, Your Highness.”
His dark eyes burned into yours through the mirror. The intensity there made your knees weak. This wasn’t the restrained, obedient knight anymore. This was a man who had finally reached his limit.
He reached around you and slowly began unlacing the rest of your corset. The white gown loosened further, slipping down your shoulders. You watched in the mirror as he tugged it lower, exposing your full breasts to the cool air and the warm firelight. Your nipples were hard, flushed, and sensitive.
Sir Jungkook’s hand cupped one breast possessively, squeezing it as his thumb brushed over the stiff peak. You gasped, arching into his touch.
“Look at yourself,” he ordered quietly, voice rough. “Look how beautiful you are. How perfect. And yet you let them think they could ever have this.”
He pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers until you whimpered. His other hand slid down, gathering the fabric of your gown and pulling it up to your waist, fully exposing your bare cunt in the mirror.
Your face bloomed bright red as you instinctively tried to close your legs, suddenly overwhelmed with shyness at the sight of yourself so lewdly displayed, flushed and completely bare in the golden firelight.
But Sir Jungkook wouldn’t allow it. His large hand gripped your thigh firmly, spreading you open again as he pressed his body harder against your back.
“Don’t hide,” His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, intense and commanding. “Look how filthy and wet you are for me.”
You shivered, unable to tear your eyes away from the reflection. The contrast was obscene, your ethereal white gown bunched around your waist, breasts exposed and heaving, legs spread wide while his armored body loomed behind you like a dark, possessive shadow.
Sir Jungkook’s hand returned between your thighs. Two thick fingers slid through your slick folds, parting them slowly so you could see everything in the mirror. You whimpered at the sight, embarrassed yet unbearably aroused.
“So beautiful,” he breathed as he circled your swollen clit with his fingertip. “This is what belongs to me. Not to any prince. Not to anyone else.”
He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, curling them deep. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he began ravishing you with slow, deliberate strokes that made wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet tower.
You tried to close your legs again, overwhelmed, but he held them open with ease, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Watch,” he ordered softly, voice dark with lust. “Watch how easily I can make my princess fall apart.”
Your eyes stayed glued to the mirror as his fingers plunged in and out of your soaked cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your cheeks were flushed deep crimson, lips parted in shameless moans, breasts bouncing slightly with every thrust of his hand.
The pleasure built fast and merciless. Your legs started shaking, thighs trembling violently as you fought to stay upright.
Sir Jungkook’s fingers curled deeper, stroking that perfect spot inside you while his thumb pressed firm circles on your swollen clit.
You came hard with a broken cry, arousal gushing down his wrist and dripping onto the stone floor beneath you. Your head fell back against his armored shoulder, body convulsing as wave after wave of intense pleasure tore through right after.
The knight dragged his arousal coated fingers from your pulsing heat and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean while his dark eyes stayed locked on yours in the mirror. The obscene sight made you whimper, legs pressing together instinctively. This time, he allowed it.
You pulled away from him shyly, legs unsteady as you walked toward the wide couch near the fireplace. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover your bare breasts, suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment.
Sir Jungkook approached you ever so slowly. His heart was pounding. you could see it in the rise and fall of his broad chest. The way your flushed cheeks and shy posture made you look so adorable only made his desire burn hotter.
He stopped in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. Without a word, he gently uncrossed your arms, exposing your breasts again. You tried to cover them once more, but he caught your wrists softly.
“You’re too beautiful to hide, my love.” he murmured, voice low.
He leaned down and took one sensitive nipple into his hot mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder. You gasped sharply, hands flying to his shoulders as overwhelming sensitivity shot through you.
“Jungkook... it’s too much...” you whimpered, lightly pushing at his shoulders, cheeks burning with shyness.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with lust and affection. “You’re so sensitive here,” he whispered, almost in awe. He flicked his tongue over your nipple again, watching your reaction closely. “So angelic when you tremble like this.”
He sucked harder, alternating between your breasts, licking and biting softly until you were a whimpering mess, pushing at him weakly while your body arched into his mouth.
You grew frustrated at the unfairness, nearly naked while he was still fully armored. With a small, determined huff, you pushed him back slightly and began tugging at the straps of his armor.
“It is not fair,” you muttered, cheeks still flushed. “You get to see all of me, but I still haven’t seen you.”
The knight let you undress him, helping you remove piece after piece until he stood completely bare before you for the first time.
Your breath caught.
He was magnificent. Broad shoulders, powerfully sculpted chest marked with old scars, some long and faded, others newer. A few dark tattoos adorned his left pectoral and ribs. His abdomen was ridged with muscle, leading down to narrow hips. His cock hung heavy between his legs, thick and already hard.
You stepped closer, running your hands over his bare chest, tracing every scar with reverent fingers, exploring the strong lines of his back, more scars mapping his battles. He stood perfectly still, letting you admire him, though his breathing had grown heavier.
“You are… so manly, my knight,” you breathed, barely coherent, as your hands returned to his chest, sliding down the hard ridges of his abdomen. “So big… so perfect.”
The room had grown hotter, heavier. The air between you felt charged with months of suppressed longing. Your breaths mingled as you stared into each other’s eyes... yours wide with awe and desire, his dark with barely restrained hunger.
Sir Jungkook’s control finally snapped. He lifted you and laid you down on the wide couch near the fireplace, pinning your exploring hands above your head with one large hand, holding them there firmly before his body hovered over yours, powerful and imposing, thick cock resting heavy against your inner thigh.
“Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and rough.
You did, heart hammering.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, eyes burning into yours.
You squirmed beneath him, aching and desperate. “Take me,” you pleaded, trembling. “Please, Jungkook… give it to me. I need you inside me.”
Sir Jungkook let out a low groan at your words. He positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. He was big, almost intimidatingly so. You felt the stretch even before he pushed in.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Your Highness,” he whispered, voice strained with worry and barely contained lust. His dark eyes searched yours, torn between desire and restraint. “You’re so tight...”
You trembled beneath him, legs parted wide around his hips. “Please,” you begged softly, cupping his face. “Don’t hold back. I need you. All of you.”
The knight exhaled shakily and began to push inside.
The stretch was intense. You gasped sharply as the thick head of his cock breached you, slowly forcing your walls open. Inch by thick inch, he sank deeper, filling you in a way you had never experienced before. It burned sweetly, bordering on too much, making your nails dig into his shoulders.
“Ah... Jungkook…” you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming fullness.
He paused halfway, breathing hard, jaw clenched tight. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he rasped, rough. “I’ll stop. I swear it.”
But you shook your head, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, voice breaking. “I need you deeper… please.”
With a low groan, he pushed the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt. The fullness was devastating. You felt so stretched, so completely claimed, that for a moment you could barely breathe.
Sir Jungkook stayed still, letting you adjust, pressing soft kisses to your tear stained cheeks.
“You’re taking me so well,” he murmured, voice filled with awe and lust. “Such a good girl for me.”
When the burn finally melted into aching pleasure, you rolled your hips experimentally.
“Move,” you whispered. “Please… ruin me.”
That was all it took.
Sir Jungkook’s control snapped completely. He pulled back and thrust into you hard, setting a deep, punishing rhythm. Jealousy and months of pent up desire fueled every powerful stroke. The wet, filthy sound of his thick cock slamming into your soaked cunt filled the tower, mixing with your loud, broken moans.
He was a knight sworn to protect the crown, now utterly ruining the very sovereign he had pledged his life to shield.
“Mine,” Sir Jungkook growled, biting down on your neck hard enough to leave a dark mark. “Not theirs. Never theirs.”
He ravished you relentlessly, claiming you, marking you. His mouth was everywhere: sucking bruises into your breasts, biting your collarbone, licking the tears from your cheeks. He pinned your wrists above your head again, hips snapping against yours with raw need.
You came hard the first time, screaming his name as your walls clenched violently around his thick length. But he didn’t stop. He took you through it, then flipped you onto your hands and knees, on the wide couch.
First, he worshipped.
The knight dropped to his knees behind you, his large hands spreading your cheeks reverently. He leaned in and pressed slow, open mouthed kisses along the curve of your royal backside, lingering presses of his lips that made your breath hitch. He kissed lower, then lower still, until his tongue dragged hot and wet over your soaked folds from behind.
“So beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, breath hot and heavy. “So divine. And yet I am going to ruin every sacred inch of you.”
Then the worship turned into ruin.
He rose, gripping your hips with white knuckled force, and thrust into you from behind in one deep, devastating stroke. You cried out sharply at the stretch, the thick length of his cock forcing your walls open, filling you so completely it stole your breath.
You sobbed in pleasure, fingers clawing at the cushions as he drove into you relentlessly. The power he exerted over you was intoxicating. this hardened warrior, dominating you utterly while still worshipping every tremble of your body.
“You belong to me,” he rasped, ruining you with slow, devastating strokes now. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” you whimpered, voice breaking. “Only yours, Jungkook... ahh!”
By the third round, you were a sobbing, whimpering mess, tears streaming down your face from overwhelming pleasure, body covered in his marks, cunt swollen and dripping with your combined release.
He took you in every way he could: against the wall, bent over the couch, riding him as he sat on the edge of the seat, then finally on your back again with your legs over his shoulders as he drove impossibly deep.
All night long, the tower echoed with your moans, his deep groans, the obscene wet sounds of your bodies joining. He claimed you utterly and completely devoted.
When he finally came for the last time, buried deep inside you, he held you tight, spilling pulse after pulse of hot seed into your womb, filling you until you felt impossibly full, claimed from the inside out.
Sir Jeon Jungkook pressed his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours with every word.
“You command the entire kingdom, my lady,” he whispered reverently, “but here in this hidden place… you are mine to ruin.”
You could only tremble in his arms, utterly spent, legs wrapped around his waist, heart pounding wildly as the fire crackled beside you.
The weight of what you had just done, and what it meant for both of you settled uncomfortably in the air. But in that moment, wrapped in his powerful arms, marked and filled by your knight, nothing else in the kingdom mattered.
The days that followed were a delicate illusion of peace.
It was late morning when you found yourself in the secluded royal bathing pool fed by a gentle river, surrounded by floating lily pads and white blossoms that drifted lazily on the current. The water was warm, scented with rose and lavender oils poured in by your maids. Sunlight filtered through the overhanging willow branches, casting soft, dappled light across the surface.
You leaned back against the smooth stone edge, your long dark hair floating around you like ink in water. Your body still carried the secret marks of the previous night, faint bruises on your hips, love bites hidden beneath the waterline, and a persistent, delicious ache between your thighs that reminded you with every shift who had claimed you so thoroughly.
Your maids, Elara, Verra, and old, wise Selyse moved around you carefully. They had raised you since you were a babe, more mothers than servants. They knew you better than anyone.
Elara poured another stream of warm water over your shoulders, her sharp eyes catching the faint flush that still lingered on your cheeks.
“You are glowing again this morning, my lady,” she said lightly, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “One might think the moon itself had kissed your skin.”
Verra, younger and bolder, laughed softly as she massaged oil into your scalp. “Or perhaps a certain tall, dark eyed knight has been keeping you… well attended.”
You felt your face heat, but you couldn’t stop the small, secret smile that curved your lips.
Selyse, the eldest, clicked her tongue but her eyes were soft with affection. “Hush, you two. Our princess has always been radiant. Though…” she tilted her head, studying you, “there is a new light in her eyes these days. And a certain weariness in her step that speaks of long nights.”
You bit your lip, sinking a little lower into the water as lily pads brushed against your skin.
“It is nothing,” you murmured, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed you.
“Nothing?” Vera teased, wading closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially.
“We have seen you grow from a wild little girl into this breathtaking woman. We know your heart. And we know it does not belong to any of those puffed up princes parading through the halls.”
You reached out, squeezing Elara’s hand, then Verra’s, your voice dropping to a shy, trembling whisper.
“It is true,” you confessed, cheeks burning hotter than the midday sun. “I have given myself to Sir Jeon. Body and heart. He is the only man I have ever wanted. The only one who has ever touched me.”
For a heartbeat, silence fell over the bathing pool. Then came the gasps.
Elara’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. Verra let out a delighted little squeak, nearly dropping the oil vial. Even old Selyse, usually so composed, looked momentarily stunned before her face broke into a warm, knowing smile.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Elara breathed, scandalized, thrilled. “You wicked little thing! With your own knight? Right under the King’s nose?”
Verra giggled uncontrollably, splashing water playfully in your direction. “And here we thought you were simply fond of him! All those late night ‘stargazing’ trips… you minx! Was he gentle? Was he… big?”
“Verra!” Selyse scolded, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. She turned to you with motherly affection. “Though I must admit, we have suspected for some time. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching… that man is utterly gone for you, my lady.”
You buried your face in your hands, mortified but unable to stop the shy, giddy smile spreading across your lips. Your gaze drifted across the river to where Sir Jeon Jungkook stood guard a respectful distance away, half hidden among the willow trees.
Even from here, you could feel the weight of his stare. He stood tall and imposing in his armor, but his dark eyes were fixed on you with a quiet, burning intensity that always made your stomach flutter.
You bit your lip, still flushed from both the warm water and the memory of his mouth, his hands, his body claiming you so thoroughly the night before.
“He is… everything,” you whispered dreamily, more to yourself than the maids. “Strong. Honorable. And when we are alone… he worships me like I am his entire world.”
Verra let out another delighted laugh. “As he should! Our princess deserves nothing less. Though if the King ever finds out…”
Selyse gently squeezed your shoulder, her voice softening with both love and concern.
“Then we will protect your secret as fiercely as we have protected you all these years,” she said. “You deserve to love who you love, my dear. Crown or no crown.”
You looked back at Sir Jungkook again. He hadn’t moved from his post among the willow trees, tall and steadfast in his armor, but your heart ached with a sharp mix of fear and wonder.
If The King ever discovered the truth, he would not spare your knight. Sir Jungkook would be banished, or worse. And you… you would be married off immediately to seal the wound.
The thought disturbed you deeply.
You turned back to the water, forcing a smile for your maids, but the warmth of the bath could no longer chase away the chill settling in your chest.
—
The rumors had begun to spread like fire through the palace corridors.
A lesser knight claimed he had seen “suspicious movement” near the eastern tower. One of the visiting princes mentioned, with a sly smile, that the Princess seemed unusually attached to her personal guard. Nothing concrete, nor proven. But the whispers were growing louder.
Your maids noticed your distraction immediately. During your morning dressing, Verra fastened the laces of your gown with unusually tight pulls, her voice urgent.
“My lady… you must be more careful,” she whispered. “Some of the king’s men have been asking questions about Sir Jeon. They say he spends too many nights away from the barracks. And one of Prince Min’s retainers swears he saw a tall figure slipping into your wing after midnight.”
Elara’s hands paused on your hair. “The knight is being cautious now. He avoids being seen with you as much. But you… you still look at him like he hung the moon. It is only a matter of time before the King hears something he cannot ignore.”
Selyse placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes full of love and worry. “You are playing with fire, sweet girl. And fire does not care how much you love it.”
Your heart clenched with fear. You hadn’t seen your knight alone in a week. He had been deliberately distant, protecting you both by keeping his distance. The absence gnawed at you like hunger.
That night, you sent for him under the pretense of needing extra security for a private walk in the inner courtyard.
The moment the hidden door to your chambers closed behind him, you were on him.
You pushed Sir Jungkook against the wall, frustration and fear pouring out of you in a desperate kiss. Your hands fisted in his tunic, tugging him closer.
“Where have you been?” you demanded between kisses, voice shaking. “I was scared. I thought something had happened to you. I thought my father had already—”
“I’m here,” he whispered against your lips, rough with emotion. He pulled you closer, arms wrapping around you. “I’m right here, my love.”
But then he pulled back slightly, forehead pressed to yours. His dark eyes were filled with pain.
“I cannot stay,” he said quietly. The words hit you like a blow. “Your father has ordered me to lead a company to the western borders. There have been reports of raiders. He says it is to prove my devotion to protecting the realm… and you. He also made it clear I can no longer linger so closely around you. The rumors are growing too loud.”
You stared at him, heart shattering.
“No,” you whispered, then louder, “No. You cannot leave me. Not now. Not after everything.”
Tears stung your eyes as the hurt poured out.
“After our first night, you pulled away. You kept your distance like I was poison. And now you’re leaving entirely? What if something happens to you out there? What if I lose you forever? I can’t take it, Jungkook. I won’t survive it.”
Your hands moved frantically, tugging at the straps of his armor with desperate, angry fingers.
“I don’t care about the king. I don’t care about the borders. I only care about you.”
Piece by piece, you stripped him. The armor fell to the floor with heavy clangs until he stood completely bare before you, broad chest, scarred skin, powerful frame looking every bit of the warrior he was. You shoved him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.
Sir Jungkook’s hands moved instinctively to the laces of your corset, trying to free you fully, but you slapped his hand away, tears already glistening in your eyes.
But the knight was patient. He sat up slowly, your legs still wrapped tightly around his waist, and gently cupped your face with both hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks with heartbreaking tenderness.
“My love,” he whispered, voice soothing, “Let me worship you. Let me take care of you tonight. Please.”
He leaned in and captured one of your sensitive breasts in his mouth, sucking slowly. His tongue swirled around your stiff nipple, drawing a shaky moan from you. He moved to the other, giving it the same devoted attention, sucking and licking until your back arched and fresh tears slipped down your cheeks, this time from overwhelming sensation and emotion.
Holding you close, then gently but firmly, Sir Jungkook leaned back, gripping your hips and guiding you upward. In one rapid motion, he pulled you over his face, settling you directly onto his waiting mouth. Your soaked folds pressed flush against his lips and tongue, your thighs framing his head as he looked up at you with pure hunger.
“Use me,” he growled against your dripping folds, the vibration sending sparks through your core. “Pleasure yourself on my tongue love. I want to drown in you.”
You hesitated for half a second, still shy and nervous, cheeks burning hot even as your body screamed for more. But the frantic ache between your legs won out. You lowered yourself more fully, your slick cunt sliding over his mouth, his nose buried against your clit. He groaned loudly, the sound muffled and obscene as he immediately speared his tongue deep inside you, licking and sucking at your juices like a man starved.
You started moving almost desperately, grinding down with frantic little rocks of your hips. Shyness still flickered in your chest, making you whimper and bite your lip, but the pleasure overrode everything. Your hands braced on the headboard as wet, filthy sounds filled the room, the slick slide of your cunt over his tongue, his eager slurping and moaning, the way he sucked your swollen clit between his lips and flicked it mercilessly.
“Oh gods...” you gasped. Your thighs trembled around his head as you grew bolder, grinding harder, smearing your arousal all over his face. He gripped your cheeks, spreading them, holding you down so you could use him exactly how you needed. His tongue ravished in and out of your dripping hole, then flattened to lap broad strokes from your entrance to your clit, devouring every drop.
But it wasn’t enough.
You lifted off his face with a wet pop, strings of your arousal connecting you to his glistening mouth. His eyes were dark, lips swollen and shiny with your juices. Before he could speak, you slid down his body impatiently.
You straddled his hips, wrapped your hand around his thick, throbbing cock, and sank down onto him in one frantic motion.
The stretch made you cry out, but you didn’t stop. You rode him hard, bouncing on his length with frantic, emotional need, your breasts bouncing heavily with every harsh drop of your hips.
“Don’t leave me,” you sobbed, riding him faster, tears falling onto his chest. “Please, Jungkook… I can’t lose you. Not after this. Not after you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
He thrust up to meet you, matching your desperate rhythm, his strong hands gripping your hips to guide you deeper.
“I don’t want to go,” he rasped, voice breaking with the same pain. “But I must. Your father commands it. I have to prove my loyalty… so I can stay by your side.”
You leaned down, kissing him messily through your tears, riding him like you could keep him here forever if you just moved fast enough.
“Then stay inside me,” you begged, voice cracking. “Fill me up. So deep that a part of you stays with me even when you’re gone. I want to carry you with me when they try to take you away.”
Sir Jungkook groaned deeply. His hands tightened on your hips as he suddenly flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath his powerful body.
He made love to you then, with deep, devastating strokes that reached the very core of you. His mouth never left your skin, sucking marks into your neck, whispering promises between every thrust.
“You are mine,” he breathed against your lips, hips rolling deeply. “I will come back to you. I will fill you again and again until you swell with our future.”
You wrapped your arms and legs around him, clinging desperately as another orgasm built inside you. When it finally crashed over you, you sobbed his name, walls pulsing tightly around his thick cock.
Sir Jungkook followed right after, burying himself as deep as possible with a low, guttural groan. He came hard, flooding your womb with thick, pulsing ropes of his seed, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to merge your souls together.
Even after, he stayed buried inside you, pressing soft kisses to your damp forehead, your cheeks, your trembling lips.
“I don’t want you to go,” you whispered, small and broken. “I love you too much.”
Sir Jungkook pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his arms never loosening. “I know, my love,” he murmured. “And that is why I must return to you. No matter what.”
The weeks following Sir Jungkook’s departure had stretched into an endless gray fog.
You moved through your royal duties like a ghost wearing a crown. You sat through council meetings with a straight spine and a hollow smile, listening to nobles bicker about alliances, trade routes while your mind wandered back to your knight’s strong arms. Every night since, your bed felt too large, too cold. You would press your face into the pillow he had once used and fight the ache in your chest.
You missed him with a desperation that bordered on madness.
This morning was no different. You had barely kept your breakfast down before the maids helped you into a heavy velvet gown the color of deep wine for yet another assembly with potential suitors. The princes and lords from neighboring kingdoms were growing impatient. Your coronation was only a month away, and the pressure to choose a consort was mounting like a noose around your throat.
By midday, the nausea returned with a vengeance. You barely made it through the formal greetings before excusing yourself to the private solar, hand pressed to your mouth.
Elara followed quickly with a basin. You retched violently into it, eyes watering.
“Your Highness…” she whispered, rubbing gentle circles on your back.
“I’m fine,” you rasped, waving her away. “Just… something I ate.”
But it wasn’t.
Later that evening, after the day’s obligations were finally over, Vera and Selyse insisted on the usual massage to ease the tension in your shoulders. They helped you out of your gown until you lay on the wide cushioned table in nothing but a thin silk shift.
The moment Selyse’s skilled hands moved over your breasts, the older maid froze.
Verra, who was working on your legs, also stilled.
“…Your Highness,” Selyse said carefully, “Your breasts… they are fuller. Tender, yes?”
Your breath hitched. You had noticed it days ago but had tried to ignore the swelling, the sensitivity. The way even the softest fabric sometimes made you wince.
Verra’s hands gently pressed against your lower belly, not quite a touch, more an assessment. “And the sickness every morning… the fatigue… the way you’ve been crying in your chambers…”
Your eyes filled with tears. You turned your face into your folded arms, shoulders shaking.
Selyse knelt beside the table, taking your hand gently. “My lady… are you with a child?”
You didn’t answer at first. Then a broken sob escaped you.
“I think so,” you whispered. “I… I don’t know for certain, but the timing…” Your voice cracked. “It would be his. Sir Jungkook’s.”
Both maids exchanged a heavy glance. This changed everything.
Verra spoke softly, “My lady... with your coronation approaching. The lords are already circling like vultures, pushing their sons at you. If this comes out before you choose a prince…”
“I know,” you said, voice muffled. Fresh tears slipped down your cheeks. “I know what it means. But I can’t… I can’t just marry one of them. Not when I’m carrying the child of the only man I’ve ever loved.”
You sat up slowly, clutching the silk shift to your chest, arms wrapped protectively around your still flat stomach.
“My dear knight...” you sniffled. “He is out there fighting gods-know-what, and I’m here pretending to be the perfect princess while my body betrays our secret.”
Selyse brushed a strand of hair from your face with motherly tenderness. “We can hide it a little longer, Highness. Looser gowns. Ginger tea for the sickness. But you must decide soon what path you will take. The child… it will not stay hidden forever.”
You nodded, but your heart was breaking all over again. The thought of choosing one of those cold, ambitious princes while carrying Sir Jungkook’s child made you feel ill all over again.
Selyse pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her voice firm with loyalty. “We pray he returns soon, my lady. And until then, we will guard you and this little one with our lives.”
—
The weeks blurred into months as winter settled over the kingdom like a heavy white shroud. Snow blanketed the towers and gardens, turning the world soft and silent, yet inside your chest, the storm only grew louder.
Sir Jeon Jungkook had not returned.
Your belly had swelled noticeably now, a gentle but undeniable curve that marked the life growing within you. With the help of Elara, Verra, and Selyse, you hid it beneath layers of loose, flowing gowns and heavy cloaks lined with fur.
The rich fabrics concealed the truth for now, but you could no longer ignore the way your body changed, the tender fullness of your breasts, the occasional flutter of movement beneath your skin, and the constant, bone deep exhaustion.
You had begun excusing yourself from the suitors’ assemblies more frequently, claiming headaches or matters of state. But the King, grew increasingly impatient.
In the grand throne room one frost laced afternoon, he fixed you with a stern gaze as snow fell outside the tall windows. “You cannot delay any longer, daughter,” he spoke, heavy with royal command. “Prince Min of Viena is a strong candidate. The coronation is weeks away. You must choose a consort soon. The realm needs stability.”
You bowed your head, hands clasped tightly over your hidden belly beneath the voluminous velvet. “Yes, Father,” you murmured, the lie tasting like ash. Inside, your heart screamed for the only man you wanted.
Every few days, with your maids’ help, you sent letters. Verra would sneak them to a trusted rider, sealed with your private wax. You poured your soul onto the parchment; how much you missed him, the way your body was changing, the secret you carried, your love that only deepened with every passing day. Yet no responses ever came. The silence gnawed at you, feeding nightmares of him lying wounded on some distant battlefield or worse.
The worry became unbearable.
One bitter winter morning, wrapped in a thick hooded cloak that concealed your swollen middle, you slipped away from the castle with only Elara and Selyse accompanying you. The three of you rode through the snow dusted forest to a modest stone cottage on the outskirts of the kingdom, the home where Sir Jungkook had grown up.
When the door opened, an older woman with kind eyes and streaks of silver in her dark hair stood before you. Sir Jungkook’s mother. She froze at the sight of the princess on her doorstep, her hand flying to her chest.
“Your Highness…?” she whispered, stunned. “Surely I do not deserve to be blessed with your presence at my humble door. Please, come inside before the cold takes you.”
She ushered you, Elara, and Selyse quickly into the warm cottage, the scent of pinewood and baking bread wrapping around you like an embrace. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth as she helped you remove your snow dusted cloak. Only when you were seated by the fire did her gaze drop to the unmistakable swell of your belly beneath the loose gown.
You took a steadying breath, your hands resting protectively over your rounded stomach.
“I carry his child,” you said softly, trembling with emotion. “Your son’s. Sir Jungkook’s. He does not know yet… he has not returned, and I… I needed to feel close to him somehow.”
Jungkook’s mother, Maera, stood completely still for a long moment, her eyes wide with shock. Then her hand flew to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Oh… gods above,” she breathed, her voice cracking. “A grandchild…? From my Jungkook?” Fresh tears flowed freely as she dropped to her knees in front of you, taking your hands in hers with deep reverence. “My lady… my princess. You honor me beyond words. You honor my son. To think that you, a royal daughter, would carry his child… I am stunned. Truly stunned. And so deeply moved.”
She pressed her forehead to your knuckles, weeping quietly with pure joy and emotion. When she lifted her head again, her eyes shone with fierce affection.
“You are already family to me,” she whispered. “Come here, sweet child.” She rose and pulled you into a warm embrace, cradling you gently as if you were made of glass. “You must be so frightened, carrying this secret alone while he is away. But you are not alone anymore. Not while I draw breath.”
You felt safe in her arms, the weight on your heart easing just a little as winter wind howled softly outside the cottage walls.
After composing herself, Maera wiped her tears and fetched a small wooden chest from a shelf. She sat beside you, opening it with trembling hands.
“Look,” she said tenderly, pulling out several treasured items. She showed you a faded sketch of a chubby baby with dark, serious eyes —Sir Jungkook as an infant. Another portrait showed him as a sturdy little boy of four, holding a wooden sword with determination. There was even a lock of his soft baby hair tied with a ribbon.
“He was always so intense, even as a babe,” she said with a watery laugh. “Strong and quiet… but when he smiled, the whole world lit up. Just like I imagine your little one will.”
You traced the portraits with gentle fingers, tears slipping down your own cheeks. Seeing these glimpses of him as a child made your love for the knight swell even deeper. You could so clearly picture your baby with his eyes, his strength, his rare smile. The thought made your heart ache with both joy and longing.
Maera kept one hand over yours, cherishing you openly. “Thank you for coming to me,” she murmured. “For trusting me with this precious news. We will wait for him together, my daughter. And when he returns, he will be the happiest man alive.”
The two of you sat by the fire for a long while — his mother and the mother of his child, talking softly as snow continued to fall outside, bound by love for the same man.
The days after your visit to Maera’s cottage only deepened the ache in your soul. Winter grew harsher, and so did your impatience. Every morning you woke with your hands on your swelling belly, feeling the strong kicks of his child, and the longing became unbearable.
One evening in the royal chambers, you fell to your knees before the King, tears streaming down your face. “Father, please… I beg you. Bring Sir Jungkook back. I need him. I cannot do this without him.”
The King frowned, confused by your desperation. “Daughter, he is leading my forces on the border. The realm needs him there. Why this sudden insistence on one knight?”
You could not tell him the truth. “I just… need him,” you whispered brokenly. “Please.”
He did not relent. The pressure to choose a suitor only intensified.
And then the sickness took hold.
Your body ached constantly. deep soreness in your back, hips, and breasts that made every movement painful. The baby’s kicks, once a comfort, now left you breathless. You grew feverish and weak.
Elara, Verra, and Selyse rarely left your side, forcing herbal teas and bitter medicines down your throat while piling warm blankets over you. For nearly a week you were bedridden, barely able to leave your chambers, hidden away from the court under the excuse of a winter chill.
One cold, silent night, as snow tapped gently against the window panes, you drifted in and out of a fevered haze. The herbs made the world soft and blurry around the edges.
You thought it was a dream when the heavy door to your chambers opened with a quiet creak and a tall, familiar figure stepped inside, shedding his snow dusted cloak. The firelight caught on his sharp jawline and those intense dark eyes.
Strong arms slipped beneath you, lifting you carefully as he climbed into your grand bed. A warm, calloused hand gently cradled your swollen belly. You felt the press of soft, reverent lips against the curve of your stomach.
“My love…” The knight’s deep voice whispered against your skin, rough with emotion. “I’m here. I finally came back to you.”
“Jungkook…?” you murmured drowsily, eyelids heavy, unsure if this was real or another cruel dream born of longing and medicine.
“It’s me,” he breathed, pulling your body flush against his solid chest. He was real. warm, solid, smelling of snow, leather, and the faint scent of campfires. “I’ve been aching for you every single day. Your touch, your voice… it kept me alive out there.”
His large hand stroked slow, soothing circles over your rounded belly, feeling the baby shift and kick beneath his palm. He lowered his head, pressing his lips directly to the taut skin.
You let out a tired, broken sound. “You left me… You promised you’d come back sooner. Look at me… I’m so sore, so heavy with your child, and you weren’t here…”
Sir Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound warm against your skin, even as his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I know, my princess. I deserve your scolding. I’m deeply sorry.” He kissed your belly again and again, soft open mouthed presses wherever he could reach. Then he trailed his lips higher, attaching his mouth gently to the swollen, aching curve of your breasts, sucking lightly and kissing away the soreness with such care that you whimpered in relief.
His hands never stopped moving, massaging the deep ache in your lower back, cupping and gently holding your heavy breasts to ease their weight, stroking your hips and thighs. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly as if afraid you might vanish.
“You are unreal, my love.” he murmured, voice hoarse with awe as he looked at you. “Your glow… it’s deeper now. The way pregnancy has changed you… you’re beyond anything I could have imagined. You shine like starlight. Carrying our child has only made you more radiant, more mine.”
You clung to him weakly, drowsy but desperate for his touch. “The baby… it kicks so much. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl… but it feels like you. Strong and stubborn.”
Jungkook smiled against your temple, one hand still resting warmly over your belly. “This child is the product of our love. A piece of both of us. I already love them more than life.” He kissed you deeply, slowly, pouring months of aching into it. “Every battle, every cold night, I thought only of coming home to you like this… holding you, feeling our baby move, worshipping the body that’s creating our future.”
He continued kissing every place that ached... the sides of your breasts, the curve of your belly, the inside of your wrist, his mouth soft and devoted. You melted into him, the pain easing under his gentle care as he held you close.
“Stay…” you whispered tiredly, already slipping back into sleep.
“I’m here right now,” he promised, lips brushing your ear. “Sleep, my love. I’ve got you both.”
When morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, you woke slowly, body still aching but strangely comforted.
The bed beside you was cold. No warmth lingered. No cloak on the chair. No scent of him on the pillows. Only the faint memory of strong hands, whispered words to your belly, and soft kisses remained.
You touched your swollen stomach, feeling another firm kick, and tears filled your eyes.
Was it a dream? A fevered hallucination woven from medicine, longing, and love? Or had Sir Jungkook truly returned to you in the dead of night… only to disappear again before dawn?
The herbs and medicines your maids prepared worked their magic. The fever finally broke, the deep soreness in your body eased into a manageable ache, and the constant nausea faded. Though you were still tired, your strength slowly returned. Your belly continued to grow rounder and heavier, the baby’s kicks becoming more insistent and lively.
One quiet winter evening, when the moon hung full over the snow covered palace, your maids turned your chambers into a secret sanctuary.
Accompanied by Sir Jungkook’s mother, they had worked together in absolute secrecy. No one outside your trusted circle knew. They had decorated the large private solar adjacent to your bedroom with soft candlelight, evergreen boughs, and winter white roses. Warm furs and silk pillows were arranged in a luxurious nest near the hearth. Incense of myrrh filled the air, and a small table held gifts wrapped in fine cloth.
They helped you into a loose, flowing gown of the softest ivory silk that draped beautifully over your swollen belly, leaving your shoulders bare. When you stepped into the room, all four women bowed their heads in reverence.
Selyse took your hand and guided you to the center of the soft pillows. “Tonight we celebrate you, my lady. And the precious life you carry. No one else will know of this blessing. It is ours alone.”
They treated you with deep adoration, as though you were sacred.
Elara gently massaged your feet with warm scented oil while Maera brushed your hair until it shone. Verra offered you sweet honeyed fruits and warm spiced milk, foods meant to nourish both you and the baby. Selyse laid her hands lightly on your rounded belly and spoke soft blessings for a safe birth and a strong child.
Selyse, ever wise, placed a small crown of dried herbs and winter berries on your head. “You are the vessel of love and life,” she murmured. “Even in these uncertain times, you bloom. We honor you as our princess… and as the mother of Sir Jungkook’s heir.”
You felt tears prick your eyes as they presented their secret gifts: tiny embroidered blankets, a soft knitted cap in deep green, a small silver pendant shaped like a blooming rose, a symbol of motherhood.
Vera leaned her cheek against your belly for a moment, grinning when the baby kicked in response. “He or she is strong already. Just like their father.”
You placed both hands over your swollen stomach, feeling another firm flutter. The warmth of their love and the secret celebration soothed the constant ache of missing your knight.
“Thank you,” you whispered, “All of you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Elara kissed your temple. “We will keep you and this little one safe until Sir Jungkook returns. And he will return.”
The warmth of the secret celebration lingered on your skin as you returned to your chambers that night. The maids had just helped you out of the ivory silk gown when a royal messenger knocked urgently.
“The King demands your presence immediately, Your Highness. In his private study.”
You had no time to prepare. Still glowing from the love and blessings of your maids, you wrapped yourself in a heavy velvet robe that concealed your very swollen belly and followed the messenger.
The moment you entered the study, the atmosphere turned icy. Your father stood behind his desk, several of your letters spread before him.
“Daughter,” he spoke, controlled. “I have given you time to come to me yourself. I know you have been sending letters to the front lines. To Sir Jungkook, specifically.” He turned to face you, his expression stern but not yet furious. “I know of your… admiration for him. Speak truthfully now. What is this attachment?”
Your throat tightened. This was the moment. With your belly heavy with his child and your heart aching, you could no longer hide everything.
“Father…” you began, voice trembling as you stepped closer. “It is more than admiration. I love him. Sir Jungkook is the only man I want.” Your hands instinctively moved to cradle your stomach. “And I… I am carrying his child.”
Silence crashed over the room.
The King’s eyes widened, then narrowed sharply as his gaze dropped to the unmistakable swell beneath your gown. His face darkened with shock, then rage.
“You what?” he hissed. “A knight’s bastard? While I have been parading princes before you? While the entire realm waits for you to secure the throne with a proper alliance?”
“Father, please,” you begged, tears filling your eyes. “It is his. Our love is real. If you would only let him return, we could—”
The King’s face twisted with fury. “You dare speak such filth to me? A royal princess swollen with a common knight’s bastard?”
You rebelled, voice shaking but defiant. “It is not filth. It is love. I will not marry Prince Min. I will not let you use me as a pawn for alliances while I carry the man I love’s child.”
“Enough!” The King slammed his fist on the table, making you flinch. “I have been patient with your childish infatuation, but this is treason against your bloodline. You will do as you are told! Your fate is sealed. You will marry Prince Min before the month ends.”
Later that same night, before your maids could even calm you, you found your most trusted rider in the stables. With tears streaming down your face and snow falling around you, you whispered your final message: “Tell him… tell Sir Jungkook that I will wait for him. No matter how long it takes. My heart is his alone. I will wait.”
The rider bowed and galloped into the night. No response ever came.
The next weeks were a nightmare.
Prince Min visited often, his eyes raking over your body with open lust and infatuation. He complimented your “ethereal glow”, clearly aroused by your pregnant form, but his arrogance disgusted you. He spoke openly of claiming the throne through you, of bedding you the moment you were his. You hated him with every fiber of your being.
You fought your father harder than ever, refusing to attend meetings with Prince Min, screaming that you would rather die than marry him. But the King had reached his limit.
One brutal afternoon, he summoned you again and placed a bloodied cloak and a forged letter before you.
“Sir Jeon Jungkook is dead,” he said flatly. “He fell in battle two weeks ago. This is proof.”
The world shattered.
You collapsed to the floor, a guttural sob tearing from your throat. The baby inside you kicked as if sensing your pain. From that moment, you broke completely.
You refused to eat. You barely slept. You stopped speaking, even to Elara, Verra, and Selyse who begged you through tears to think of the child. You lay in bed for days, staring at nothing, your once radiant glow fading into pale exhaustion. Your maids feared for both your life and the baby’s.
Despite how numb you had become, when your maids gently suggested taking you to Maera’s quiet home on the edge of the forest, you agreed without protest. You were taken there in secret under the cover of night.
Maera, a strong but grieving woman with the same dark eyes as her son, took you in without question. She cared for you with quiet hands and even quieter words. You didn’t speak much to her either, but you accepted her care wholeheartedly. After all, she was mourning the loss of her son, and you were mourning the loss of your lover and the father of your child.
The King, despite his fury, still sent guards to watch over you from a distance. You were still royalty, still carrying what he believed might be his grandchild. But you could only think of the protection you once had... the strongest, safest pair of arms that had ever wrapped around you.
You mourned deeply. But you couldn’t be completely selfish with a baby on the way, restless and eager to come into the world.
The labor came on a stormy night.
The pains started suddenly and violently. Maera and your maids worked frantically around you as you screamed and cried, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white. The King himself had ridden out in secret when he heard you had gone into labor, standing outside the cottage with a face pale with rare fear.
He didn’t know how to comfort you. He only knew one thing, his daughter was calling for her knight in her delirium.
Even though he viewed the child as the product of a sinful affair, something in him softened at the sound of your broken sobs. He could not lose you.
Inside the cottage, you gave birth to a baby girl.
She was small, chubby, with a shock of raven hair and big, dark eyes that looked exactly like her father’s. The moment the midwife placed her on your chest, fresh tears streamed down your face.
“She looks like him…” you whispered, hoarse and broken. “My little love… she has his eyes.”
You held her close, sobbing softly as the pain and grief mixed with a fragile, overwhelming love. Even in your exhaustion, you couldn’t stop crying. You believed Sir Jungkook was dead. The thought that your daughter would never know her father tore you apart.
Maera wept beside you, gently stroking your hair. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Just like her mother.”
Outside, the King stood in the rain, waiting.
When the door finally opened and the midwife stepped out, he demanded to know if you and the child were alive. Upon hearing they both were, something in his hardened heart shifted.
He turned to his captain without a word and gave the order.
“Send riders to the western borders at once. Bring Sir Jeon Jungkook back. Tell him… his princess has need of him.”
It would take time. The borders were far, and the roads were muddy from the storms. A week, perhaps a month.
In the quiet warmth of the cottage, you held your newborn daughter against your chest, wrapped in soft linen.
You rocked her gently as she fussed against your breast, nursing hungrily. Your maids and Maera moved around you, bringing broth, fresh cloths, and ever soft words. But you barely spoke. The grief had hollowed you out.
“I wish you could meet your father,” you whispered to the baby one quiet night, voice cracking. Tears slipped down your cheeks as she latched on again. “He would have held you so carefully. He would have loved you more than anything in this world. He would have protected us both…”
Maera sat beside you, her own eyes red from mourning. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would have been so proud,” she said softly. “Of both of you.”
You could only nod, throat too tight to speak. The emptiness inside you felt endless. Every time the baby cried, every time she looked up at you with those familiar dark eyes, the pain returned like a fresh wound.
The King demanded your return to the palace, as you were still royalty, still bound to your father’s will despite carrying a child out of wedlock. He wrote letter after letter insisting you resume your duties and prepare for the inevitable marriage to Prince Min. You refused to answer most of them.
Your maids tried their best to comfort you, but even they could not reach the depths of your sorrow. The only light in your world was your daughter. Tiny, perfect, with Jungkook’s dark eyes and a tuft of raven hair. You held her constantly, whispering stories about her father, singing lullabies with a voice that often broke halfway through.
You mourned him deeply. The King had not even granted him a proper funeral. No rites. No chance to say goodbye. Just a bloodied cloak and a cold declaration.
One quiet evening, Maera left the cottage to fetch groceries from the nearby village. Your maids had been called back to the palace on the King’s orders, duties they could not refuse. For the first time in weeks, it was just you and your baby in the small, warm cottage.
You sat by the window, cradling her in your arms. She cooed softly, tiny fingers wrapping around yours as you gently rocked her. For a few precious minutes, you allowed yourself to smile a real, soft smile as you played with her little hands and kissed her forehead.
“My baby,” you whispered, “The loveliest babe. Don’t tell the queens and princesses, I think they’d be terribly jealous.”
The baby blinked up at you. “Oh, yes,” you continued solemnly. “Especially of those cheeks.”
You leaned back in the chair as exhaustion eventually won over you, your eyes growing heavy. With your daughter nestled safely against your chest, sleep claimed you quickly.
When you woke, the cottage was awfully quiet.
Your arms were empty.
Panic slammed into you like a physical blow. You shot upright, heart hammering wildly as you looked around the room.
The baby was gone.
“No… no, no, no...” you gasped, stumbling to your feet, voice rising into a broken sob. “Where is my baby?!”
You searched frantically, under the blankets, behind the chairs, near the hearth, terror clawing at your throat. Your mind spun with nightmarish possibilities. Had someone taken her? Had the King sent men to steal her away?
Then you saw him.
A tall figure standing near the doorway, cradling your daughter gently in his strong arms. She was sleeping peacefully against his chest, tiny fist curled into his tunic.
Your knees buckled.
It was Sir Jungkook.
He looked exhausted, travel worn, mud on his boots, shadows under his eyes, but he was alive. Real. His dark eyes met yours, filled with unbearable love and pain.
You stared at him, trembling violently, refusing to believe what you were seeing.
“No…” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, no, this isn’t real. You’re dead. They told me you were dead. This is another dream. You always come in my dreams and then you leave me again—”
Your voice cracked into a sob as you backed away, hands clutching your chest.
“You left me,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “You left me and our child. I mourned you. I almost died mourning you. Please… don’t do this to me again. I can’t take another dream. I can’t wake up to find you gone again.”
Sir Jungkook’s face crumpled with anguish. He took one careful step forward, still cradling your daughter like the most precious thing in the world.
“My love,” he said hoarsely, voice breaking. “It’s not a dream. I’m here. I’m real. Your father… he lied. He sent me away to the borders to keep me from you. But I came back the moment he allowed it. I rode without stopping.”
You shook your head harder, tears falling faster, refusing to believe it even as your heart screamed at you to run to him.
“You’re dead,” you repeated, voice small and shattered. “You have to be dead… because if you’re not, then you let me believe it. You never answered my letters. Not one. I wrote to you every single day, pouring my heart out, begging you to come back to me, to our child… and you never...”
Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks as the pain twisted deeper.
“You were in on it, weren’t you?” you whispered, voice breaking. “You let my father tell me you were gone. You left me here to rot in grief while I carried your child alone. How could you?”
The knight’s face crumpled with agony. He took a step forward, but you flinched, and he stopped immediately, hands trembling at his sides.
Before he could speak, your daughter stirred in his arms. As if sensing the suffocating tension in the room, she let out a sharp, hungry cry, her little lips puckering, tiny fists waving.
You moved without thinking, reaching for her. Sir Jungkook gently handed her over, his hands lingering for a moment as if afraid to let go. You turned away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed and loosening your dress to feed her. The baby latched on eagerly, her cries softening into small, contented sounds.
The knight stood there, watching you in silence. He looked lost, this battle-hardened soldier, returned from war, now completely unsure how to comfort the woman he loved. He slowly lowered himself to his knees in the middle of the room, head bowed.
“I wrote to you,” he admitted hoarsely. “Every chance I had. Your father… he made sure none of my letters reached you. He wanted you to believe I was gone. I fought every day to come back to you. I almost died trying to get word to you.”
You didn’t look at him. You kept your eyes on your daughter, tears falling silently onto her soft hair.
“I mourned you like a widow,” you whispered, voice thick with pain. “I almost died. And now you’re here… acting like you didn’t abandon me when I needed you most.”
The words cut awfully deep. Sir Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, but he stayed on his knees, silent and respectful, giving you the space your wounded heart demanded.
Your daughter stirred in your arms, letting out a small, distressed whimper as if she could sense the storm raging between her parents. You rocked her gently, pressing a kiss to her soft raven hair.
“Shh, my sweet one,” you cooed softly, “Mama’s here. You’re safe.”
Sir Jungkook’s hands twitched at his sides, aching to reach out, to touch you, to hold both of you, but he remained still, jaw clenched tight. He was no longer in full armor, only a worn tunic and breeches, his appearance shambled from the long ride, fresh bruises blooming across his knuckles and jaw.
You turned away from him, focusing on the small tasks that had become your life in the cottage. The rain outside grew heavier, pounding against the roof like a relentless drum.
You moved about the space, stirring the pot of stew over the fire, folding fresh linens, anything to keep your hands busy and your mind from breaking completely.
Hours passed in heavy silence. When your daughter finally grew fussy again, you nursed her by the hearth until her little eyes fluttered shut. You laid her gently in the wooden cradle Maera had prepared, stroking her cheek one last time before covering her with a soft blanket.
Only then did you notice movement near the door.
Sir Jungkook was standing there, cloak in hand, quietly preparing to leave.
Something inside you fractured. You stepped toward him, voice cracking. “You’re leaving again?”
He turned slowly, eyes filled with torment. “I was only going to check the perimeter. The rain is heavy, and I… I didn’t want to burden you further.”
You stared at him, this warrior who had survived hell just to return to you, and the dam finally broke.
“Come here,” you whispered.
He obeyed without hesitation.
You led him to your bed and with trembling hands, you began removing his tunic, revealing the damage the war had left behind.
New bruises painted his ribs and shoulders in shades of purple and blue. Fresh scars, still healing, cut across his chest and abdomen. He looked harder, a man who had walked through fire and barely returned.
Your lips trembled, but you forced yourself to stay steady. You turned away briefly, gathering clean linen strips, salve, and a bowl of warm water. When you returned, the knight stood perfectly still, letting you see all of him, the bruises, the brutal evidence of everything he had endured just to return to you.
You began tending to him in silence, your hands gentle as you cleaned a particularly nasty cut along his side. But the more you looked, the more the dam inside you cracked.
“What have they done to you, Jungkook?” you whispered, voice breaking. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you carefully wrapped a bandage around his ribs. “You’re… you’re covered in pain. All of this… just to come back to me?”
He stood motionless, letting you care for him, but his dark eyes never left your face.
“I would go through it a thousand times more,” he said softly, “if it meant coming back to you and our daughter.”
You shook your head, fresh tears falling as you pressed a bandage over another wound. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. I can’t bear thinking of you suffering like this. I thought you were dead. I thought I would never see you again, and now you’re here… broken because of me.”
Sir Jungkook slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of you, even though you were still trying to tend to him. The powerful knight, the man who had survived war, knelt before you like the loyal protector he had always been.
“Your Highness,” he murmured, head slightly bowed, voice thick with emotion. “I failed you. I wasn’t here when you needed me most. I wasn’t here when you carried our child. I wasn’t here when you gave birth. I wasn’t here when they told you I was gone. Forgive me.”
You dropped the bandages and pulled him into your arms, holding his head to your chest. His arms wrapped around your waist instantly, clinging to you like a man who had almost lost everything.
A broken sob tore from his throat.
Your knight, your warrior, the strongest person you had ever known, cried against your chest like a child. Deep, shuddering sobs that shook his powerful frame as his arms tightened around you.
“I thought I lost you,” he choked out, voice muffled against your skin. “Every night on the border, I prayed I would make it back to you. To both of you.”
You held him tighter, fingers threading through his raven hair, your own tears falling onto his head.
“You’re here now,” you whispered, rocking him gently. “You’re here. You came back to us. That’s all that matters.”
For a long time, the only sounds in the cottage were the rain outside, the crackling fire, and the quiet, heartbroken sobs of a knight who had finally returned to his princess.
—
The rain had not eased by the middle of the night. It hammered against the thatched roof like an impatient army. You had fallen asleep in Jungkook’s arms on the narrow bed, your daughter nestled safely in her cradle beside you. For the first time in months, your sleep was deep and dreamless.
A sharp knock on the cottage door shattered the peace.
Sir Jungkook was awake in an instant. He slipped from the bed silently, pulling on his tunic and reaching for the sword he had left by the door. His body was still tense from war, every muscle ready for threat.
“Stay here,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I will see who it is.”
But you already knew.
A cold certainty settled in your chest. You rose, wrapping a shawl around your shoulders, and followed him despite his warning. Your daughter stirred but remained asleep.
Sir Jungkook opened the door, sword half drawn, rain pouring behind the figure standing outside.
It was the King.
Your father stood in the downpour, cloak heavy with water, face pale and drawn. Guards waited at a respectful distance, torches flickering weakly in the storm. His eyes moved past your knight and landed on you.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then the King stepped inside without invitation, water dripping onto the wooden floor. His gaze softened when it fell on you — his only daughter, still pale from childbirth, carrying the weight of grief and motherhood.
“My child,” he said, voice rough. “You must return to the palace. You are still royalty. Still my blood. You do not belong in a cottage like this.”
You stood straighter, even as exhaustion and lingering pain made your body ache.
“I belong where I choose,” you replied quietly, but firmly. “And I will not return without Sir Jeon. He is my knight. He is the father of my daughter. He stays with me.”
The King’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Jungkook, who stood tall and silent beside you, sword now lowered but ready.
“I know what you are to each other,” the King said heavily. “I have known for some time. Prince Min is a fool and a coward, but his bloodline is strong. The alliance—”
“I will not marry him,” you cut in, voice steady despite the tears gathering in your eyes. “I will return to the palace. I will perform my duties as princess, as future queen. I will be the ruler this kingdom needs. But only if Sir Jungkook remains at my side. As my knight. As the man I have chosen. As the only man with any right to me.”
The King looked at you for a long time. He saw the woman you had become, not just his rebellious daughter, but a figure of quiet strength. The people in the surrounding villages spoke of you with reverence. They told stories of the princess who helped common women, shared food during hard winters, who listened to their troubles as if they mattered as much as any noble’s.
The King exhaled slowly, defeated but not broken.
“Very well,” he said at last. “Sir Jeon will return with you. He will remain your personal knight. But this… affair… must remain hidden from the court. For now.”
You nodded once, relief flooding through you.
The King’s gaze drifted to the cradle where your daughter slept. He had not yet seen her. You had kept her away from him, protecting her with every fiber of your being.
He took one hesitant step toward the cradle, then stopped, as if afraid.
The King’s shoulders sagged. For the first time in years, he looked truly old.
“Bring her home,” he said quietly. “Both of you. We will find a way.”
When the heavy door of the cottage finally closed behind your father, you let out a huge, shaky sigh. The weight of the conversation pressed on your chest like a stone. You turned and walked to the cradle, gently lifting your daughter into your arms. She stirred but settled quickly against your chest.
Sir Jungkook followed silently behind you, his presence warm.
“I would not trust him,” you whispered, voice laced with bitterness. “My father lied. He did all of this, told me you were dead, kept us apart, made me believe I had lost you forever. How can I believe a single word he says now?”
Jungkook stepped closer. He gently wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head as you held your daughter.
“Petal,” he murmured softly, the old endearment slipping out like a balm. “Your father is a hard man, but he is not as cold as he pretends to be. He sent for me the moment he learned you had gone into labor. He could have kept me away forever. But he didn’t.”
You turned slightly in his arms, eyes wide with disbelief.
The knight continued, low and calm.
“There was one night… when you were still heavy with our child and very sick. I rode through a storm to reach you. Your father allowed it. He let me see you. I held you while you slept, fevered and restless. I whispered to you. I kissed your forehead and promised I would return. But I had to leave before dawn. He made me swear not to wake you. He said it would only make the pain worse when I had to go back to the borders.”
You stared at him, stunned. Tears welled up again.
“That night… it was real?” you whispered. “I thought it was a dream. I thought I imagined your arms around me.”
“It was real,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I was there. And I have regretted leaving you every single day since.”
You turned fully toward him, still cradling your daughter. The baby had woken and was fussing softly. You loosened your dress and began to feed her.
Sir Jungkook watched the two of you with such open love and longing that it made your chest ache.
“She has your eyes,” you said softly, brushing a finger over your daughter’s cheek. “So dark and beautiful. Just like yours.”
Sir Jungkook’s expression softened further. He reached out, gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand.
“And she is as beautiful as her mother,” he murmured. “I hope she grows to be as strong as her. As kind. As full of fire and love.”
For a while, the only sounds were the soft suckling of your daughter and the rain pattering against the roof. Sir Jungkook stayed close, one arm around your waist, the other lightly resting near the baby.
Eventually, after your daughter had fallen asleep again, you made the decision.
“We will return to the palace,” you said quietly. “Together. As a family. I will not hide anymore.”
The next morning, after tender farewells to Maera, who hugged you both tightly and kissed her granddaughter’s forehead with tears in her eyes, you left the cottage.
—
Three Months Later,
The palace had transformed around you.
After your return, the finest healers in the realm were summoned, learned men and women versed in herbs and ancient remedies. They tended to you with the utmost care, restoring the strength you had lost in grief and childbirth. Slowly, the hollow exhaustion faded. Color returned to your cheeks. Your body healed, and with it, your spirit bloomed once more.
You were treated not merely as royalty, but as something sacred. The people whispered that the Princess had returned more radiant than before, as if the earth itself had blessed her.
Your maids, Elara, Verra, and Selyse, were beyond ecstatic to have you back. They fussed over you constantly, brushing your long hair until it shone, dressing you in the finest silks, and whispering prayers of gratitude for your safe return.
The kingdom now knew the truth: the child was Sir Jeon Jungkook’s. The scandal had spread like wildfire, but instead of outrage, most of the people embraced it. They saw their princess glowing, and fiercely protected.
Prince Min had tried to slander you upon his return, calling you impure, unfit, a disgrace for bearing a knight’s child out of wedlock. Sir Jungkook had nearly killed him in the great hall before the King’s guards pulled him back. Prince Min was expelled from the kingdom that very day, the alliance shattered. No one mourned his departure.
It was a warm evening when you returned to the royal bathing pool, surrounded by floating lily pads and fragrant white blossoms. The water shimmered under the sunlight as your maids helped you undress. Your daughter, now three months old and full of life, babbled happily in Elara’s arms, reaching for you with chubby little hands.
“Come here, my sweet,” you cooed, taking her into the warm water with you. She immediately nestled against your bare chest, tiny fingers grasping at your long, wavy hair as you gently rocked her. She was a needy little thing, always wanting her mother’s warmth, her scent, her voice.
Verra smiled as she poured scented oil over your shoulders. “She adores you, my lady. Look at those big, bejeweled eyes.”
You glanced toward the far bank where Sir Jeon Jungkook stood guard, as always. He was no longer forced to hide. He remained your personal knight, ever watchful and devoted. His gaze met yours across the water, soft with love and quiet pride. He had become even more protective since your return, rarely leaving your side unless duty demanded it.
The King had grown strangely silent on the matter of your relationship. Seeing you flourish and beloved by the people, had turned him into something of a coward when it came to opposing you.
He doted on his granddaughter in private, though he still struggled to fully accept the circumstances. Yet he no longer pushed for any other marriage. He had seen what happened when he tried to separate you from your knight.
Bit by bit, your beauty had deepened into something almost otherworldly, skin luminous, eyes bright with life, a gentle fullness to your figure from motherhood that only made you more captivating. You moved through the palace performing your duties with grace while still finding time to help the common women who came to the gates seeking aid. You had become more than a princess.
At night, when the palace slept, Sir Jungkook was yours completely.
He would slip into your chambers, shed his armor, and worship you with slow hands and mouth. He made love to you like a man who had walked through hell and returned only for this. You clung to him every night, whispering how much you loved him, how you had chosen him long before the crown ever mattered.
Your daughter babbled softly, pulling at your long hair again with her tiny fist, drawing a soft, delighted laugh from you.
“Oh, my little one,” you cooed, gently untangling her fingers from your waves before pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “You are going to pull Mama’s hair right off if you keep that up, aren’t you? Such a strong little flower.”
She giggled in your arms, reaching up to pat your face with her small, uncoordinated hand, her big dark eyes, exact replicas of her father’s, sparkling with pure joy. The resemblance was almost startling even at such a young age. She was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
Elara sighed dreamily as she poured warm water over your shoulders. “Look at her, my lady. She is perfection. She already has the whole palace wrapped around her tiny finger.”
Verra nodded, gently massaging oil into your hair. “And you, my princess. You glow like the sun itself these days. Motherhood suits you more than any crown ever could.”
Selyse, ever the wise one, glanced toward the bank where Sir Jeon Jungkook stood guard, fully armored but with his helmet removed today. A small, teasing smile tugged at her lips.
“And that one over there… he can’t take his eyes off the two of you. Look at him, standing there like a lovesick fool in steel. Our fierce knight, brought to his knees by a baby and her mother.”
The knight’s ears turned faintly red, but he didn’t deny it. His gaze remained soft, locked on you and your daughter with quiet awe and devotion.
Later that evening, in the royal rose gardens where he had once walked beside you as your new knight, Sir Jungkook carried your daughter in his arms.
He was still in full armor, crimson cloak draped over his broad shoulders, but he held her with such careful gentleness it made your heart melt. The baby was dressed in the softest cream colored gown embroidered with tiny golden flowers, a little bonnet tied under her chin. She looked like a living doll against his armored chest.
She reached up with both hands, grabbing at the edge of his armor, babbling excitedly as she tried to pull herself closer to his face. When he leaned down, she patted his cheek with a wet, sloppy kiss.
Sir Jungkook’s entire expression softened into something almost boyish. He smiled, genuine and devastatingly handsome.
“My little love,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
You walked beside them, heart full as you watched your daughter play with the buckles on his armor. Every time he lowered his head to let her see his face, she lit up. But when he playfully put his helmet back on for a moment to tease her, she immediately fussed, letting out a small, indignant cry and reaching for him with both arms.
“No helmet,” you laughed softly. “She hates it. She wants to see her father’s face.”
Sir Jungkook removed it immediately, tucking it under one arm while cradling her with the other. He leaned down so she could press her tiny palms against his cheeks and give him another sloppy kiss on the jaw.
The maids watching from a distance cooed and teased him lightly.
“Look at that,” Verra whispered loudly enough for him to hear. “Who would have thought the man who survived the western borders would be brought down by tiny hands and gummy smiles?”
Later that night, the heavy oak door to your royal chambers was barred, only the soft glow of candles and the low fire in the hearth illuminated the room.
You stood before the tall mirror, slowly changing into your nightgown. The fabric whispered against your skin as it slid down your body. Your gaze caught on the beautiful ring on your finger, the one Sir Jungkook had slipped onto your hand in secret weeks ago, a quiet promise between the two of you. You turned it gently, a small, private smile touching your lips.
Your daughter lay nestled against your bare chest, warm and content, her tiny fingers curled around the edge of your loosened gown. She babbled softly, her big dark eyes full of adoration for her mother.
Sir Jungkook stood a few steps behind you, fully armored except for his helmet, watching the two of you with quiet awe. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting every healed scar and the lingering shadows of war that still clung to him.
You gently laid your daughter in her ornate cradle, pressing one last kiss to her forehead as she drifted into sleep. Then you returned to the mirror, picking up the silver brush to run it through your long, wavy hair.
Sir Jungkook followed without a word. He stopped behind you, his large hands resting lightly on your waist. Slowly, he leaned down and began pressing soft kisses along your bare arms, from shoulder to wrist, as you continued brushing your hair.
You giggled softly, cheeks flushing with that familiar shyness even after all this time.
“Jungkook…” you murmured, breathy. “You ought to distract me.”
“Good,” he whispered against your skin, kissing the curve of your shoulder. “I have missed you all day. I need my darling.”
He dropped to his knees behind you with a quiet clink of armor, bowing his head in his familiar, devoted way. You turned to face him, running your fingers through his raven hair, then tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the faint scars that remained on his face.
You saddened for a moment, remembering the brutality he had endured.
But he looked up at you with such pure worship that it took your breath away. To him, you were more than a princess. you were his salvation, the very source of life that had healed him.
You pulled him closer, and he rose, lifting you effortlessly into his arms and carrying you to the grand bed.
The knight laid you down gently, then began to worship you with slow, reverent hands. He unlaced your nightgown with painstaking care, peeling the silk away until you were bare before him. His mouth found your breasts immediately, sucking softly on one sensitive nipple, then the other, drinking the sweet milk that flowed for him with deep, grateful groans.
You moaned softly, fingers threading through his hair as he fed from you, his tongue swirling, lips sealed tight around your peak. He drank like a man who had been starving for you, savoring every drop as if it were the very essence of life itself.
Sir Jungkook groaned deeply against your breast, the sound vibrating through your chest as he drank almost desperately. His large hand cradled the soft weight of your breast, squeezing gently to draw more from you while his other hand stroked your side with reverent tenderness.
“So sweet,” he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse and worshipful. “You give me life, my petal. You heal what war tried to break.”
You whimpered, arching into his mouth, overwhelmed by the intimate, sacred act, fresh heat blooming between your thighs.
When he finally released your nipple with a wet pop, his lips glistening, he looked up at you with dark, adoring eyes.
“You are my salvation,” he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts before moving lower. “The mother of my child. The light that brought me home.”
When he finally moved lower, he spread your thighs with firm hands and settled between them. He looked up at you once, eyes dark with devotion, before lowering his mouth to your core.
He worshipped your flower, seeking nectar with slow, deep licks that made your back arch, followed by gentle suction on your swollen clit. His tongue delved inside you, tasting every inch, groaning at your sweetness as if it were the most sacred thing he had ever known.
You whimpered and moaned, hips rolling against his handsome face as pleasure built in waves. He was relentless yet tender, bringing you to the edge again and again before letting you tip over.
When you finally begged for him, voice trembling with need, Sir Jungkook rose above you like a knight before his altar.
He did not rush. Instead, he sat back on his heels, dark eyes drinking in every inch of your bare, flushed body with such raw hunger that it made your skin burn. You felt vulnerable and impossibly desired under that gaze. A shy, breathless giggle escaped your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.
Sir Jungkook reached out with one large, calloused hand and traced a single finger slowly down your body, from the delicate line of your throat, between your heaving breasts, over the soft curve of your belly, and down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The touch ever so feather light, yet it left fire in its wake.
“You are a goddess made flesh,” he whispered, voice hoarse with awe. “And I am but a mortal who has been granted the honor of kneeling at your feet.”
He leaned down and pressed his forehead to your thigh in a gesture of pure worship, eyes closed, breath warm against your skin as if he were praying to the only deity he had ever believed in.
Then he moved over you, settling between your spread thighs. His thick cock pressed against your entrance, hot and heavy. He looked into your eyes as he slowly pushed inside, inch by thick, stretching inch, filling you so completely that your mouth fell open in a silent cry.
You dug your nails into his back as he began to move, first slow and loving, then harder, deeper, claiming you with every thrust.
“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, hips snapping forward. “I love you more than life itself.”
When you came, it was with his name on your lips and tears of overwhelming pleasure in your eyes. Jungkook followed moments later, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a low, broken groan, filling you with pulse after pulse of his release.
In the quiet that followed, with the knight’s arms still wrapped around you and the weight of the world momentarily forgotten, it was strangely easy to remember the day he had first knelt before the throne.
The impenetrable knight clad in steel, sworn to protect a princess draped in silk. and protect you he would, as though it had been carved into the marrow of every breath he would draw, for eternity.
editing thid in a few hours. thankyou so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very much appreciated mwah love you all 🫶💋
aww, 3k notes on this one? 🥹 what if i told yall i absolutely adore writing medieval settings and might just have a yandere carpathian gothic romance take on the knight × princess trope brewing soon...?
Summary: Jungkook is your husband who believes he lost his chance with your sister because of you. Now you're married to him, and revenge was the only reason he said yes to this marriage.
Warnings: jungkook is a walking red flag and oc is a dumb girl in love so read at your own risk? again, neither of their brains is fully developed here. toxic relationship, angst.
Word count: 11k
a/n: nine days in the making and here we are.... anon, i hope i did your request justice!! there will be a part two because yall i genuinely don't even know where to begin with this man’s redemption arc.... at this point, i fear the redemption arc alone is going to take over 10k words (lmk if you have any ideas, lend me ur creativity bbgs). all I can say is: please do not date men who do not kiss the ground you walk on!!!
taglist: @jiwikiwi @scriptved
You remembered the first time you saw him.
Your sister, Suji, was two years older than you and ever since you were ten, she brought her friends home nearly every weekend.
There were four of them: Jimin, Yejin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.
They were inseparable and exactly the kind of friendship you only ever read about in books or watched in movies. On weekends, your house was always filled with their voices and you never minded it, especially since two-years was not much of an age gap, hence you were included in almost everything they did.
That only changed after they graduated from high school and scattered across the country. Even then, the distance never truly separated them. They would stay in touch, called regularly, and planned a holiday together at least once a year.
As a child, being included in their group made you feel important. There was something exciting and cool about being ten and spending most of your time with older kids.
It did not take long for you to realise that Suji was the one holding them all together and her friends always orbited around her without noticing they were doing it. That never surprised you because Suji has always been the main character wherever she went, both at home and everywhere else.
You never resented her for it because she was the kindest sister you could have asked for. She never made you feel smaller than her, she invited you to parties you were too young to attend, defended you when Taehyung teased you about your missing front tooth, and let you borrow her clothes without ever complaining about it.
Her friends were kind to you too.
Jimin and Yejin were the first ones you met. You remembered them sitting beside you at the kitchen table, patiently helping you with your maths homework. Now they were married, with a daughter who was as cheerful as the two of them.
Then there was Taehyung, around whom fourteen-year-old Suji started acting differently. She became shy in his presence, more careful with her words, and she would glance at him now and then whenever she thought no one was looking. They were married now and, as far as you could tell, still having the time of their lives together.
And then there was Jungkook.
You, Suji, and the rest of her friends had been playing hide-and-seek throughout the house one Saturday afternoon, and Jungkook was the seeker. You hid behind the living-room curtain, holding your breath as you listened for his footsteps.
You were certain you would be caught first, because you barely had time to find a proper hiding place.
And you were right, Jungkook did find you first.
He pulled the curtain aside just enough to see you. But instead of dragging you out and gloating the way Taehyung or Jimin would have done, he merely smiled at you and ruffled your hair.
Then he let the curtain fall back into place and walked away to find the others.
You stayed behind the curtain for another full minute, your heart beating so loud that you considered asking your mom to call an ambulance.
At ten years old, what was that if not a knight in shining armour?
You have been in love with him ever since.
By fourteen, you assumed the feeling would have disappeared. It was supposed to be puppy love; something harmless and embarrassing that you would laugh about with Suji over wine in ten years time. But it did not just disappear like you thought it would.
In high school, Jungkook became one of the popular boys. His face made insecure boys resent him and hopeful girls imagine they had a chance with him. Yet he never seemed interested in any of it, he only cared about being around Suji and the rest of their friends, and he never seemed to mind having you around either.
Well, mostly because you were his best friend’s little sister.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
At fifteen, you finally told Suji about your little embarrassing crush.
She was not surprised when you confessed that you had a crush on one of her best friends. Jungkook was handsome too so it wasn’t really weird. You learned much later that she had known for years, but that night, she only laughed softly and said, “I’ll help you get together with him when you’re a little older, okay?”
Not long after you told her, Jungkook stopped coming to the house.
The rest of the group continued gathering in your living room every weekend as loud and inseparable as ever, but his usual seat was always empty. You still caught glimpses of him in the school hallways. He never said hello, though that wasn’t really strange since he rarely greeted you at school even before he stopped coming around your house.
Then you noticed that Jungkook started spending time with a different crowd. And it happened around the same time Suji and Taehyung finally started dating. These two quickly became the school’s “it” couple, with every photograph of them posted online always accompanied with the same ‘#CoupleGoals’.
But them getting together never surprised you.
What surprised you was that the moment Suji and Taehyung got together, Jungkook noticed you again, but not the way you wanted him to. The time your paths crossed again, he spat onto the ground in front of you and looked at you as if the sight of you disgusted him.
You didn’t understand it. You’ve adored him for five years by then, and you had no idea what you did to deserve that kind of hatred.
When you asked Jimin whether you somehow offended Jungkook, he only sighed and told you not to take it personally. And that Jungkook started spending time with wealthy, arrogant boys, and he has changed.
To you, it made sense for him to hang out with a different crowd, especially since he came from a different tax bracket than you did.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You were twenty-two when you received the phone call from your mother.
By this time, Jungkook was somewhere not in your life; he was just a name that came up at your school reunion and nowhere else. You’ve heard things about him; that he helped his father ran their family’s company, then him eventually becoming the CEO.
Your mother has been a single mother almost your whole life, and she has never once, in twenty-two years, called you sounding like she was preparing for you to leave her life.
"Can you come home?" she asked, "tonight, if you can. I need to talk to you about something and I don't want to do it over the phone."
You asked if everything was okay, and she said she'll explain when you were there, which is somehow worse than any answer she could have given you, and you spent the whole drive over with your stomach tightened in knots.
Your mom was waiting at the kitchen table when you arrived, two cups of tea already going cold in front of her like she made them an hour ago and forgot they existed the moment she poured them.
“Mom?” you asked as you sat down in front of her, “this is reminding me of horror movies,” you chuckled.
"I need to tell you something," she said, "and I need you to not hate me."
You immediately became silent and didn’t even dare to say anything. So you let her say whatever she wanted to say in her own time, because she seemed as if she was going to burst into tears.
"I owe some family a great deal of money," she said, finally opening up after what felt like fifteen minutes, "forty million dollars. It's to the Jeon's family. Jeon Jungkook, do you remember him? From when you were kids, Suji's friend.."
You couldn’t help the gasp that followed, "How?" was all you could manage to respond with.
forty million dollars was more money than you have ever seen in your life. Your mother was an investment banker at a small firm, so your family has never been poor, but you were nowhere near forty-million-dollars rich. But then, compared to the Jeon family, you might as well have been poor.
“I’d been at the firm for three years by then,” your mother said, her eyes fixed on the table, “I was young enough to be desperate for a win. I wanted to prove myself, especially in rooms full of men who called me sweetheart and honey during meetings and constantly tease me.”
She paused, playing with her fingers in her lap, “One of my colleagues brought me a deal. It was a startup that was supposedly going to be bought out within eighteen months. It was the kind of tip that could make someone’s career if it worked.”
“And you believed him?” you asked.
“I believed in the startup,” she corrected, “enough to pass it on to a client I’d been trying to win over for months. Jungkook’s parents. I told them it was a sure thing,” your mother said, her voice slightly breaking on the word sure, “I wasn’t lying to them. I believed it too.”
She looked down at her hands, “That’s the part that still keeps me awake. I didn’t do it because I wanted to hurt anyone. I did it because I wanted them to trust me. I wanted it so badly.”
“And it failed?”
“Not at first. For a few months, everything looked promising, then the company’s lead investor pulled out after a fraud investigation. None of us saw it coming and the entire company collapsed within six weeks.”
She paused before continuing, “Jungkook’s parents lost almost everything they invested. And because I was the one who brought them the deal and told them their money would be safe, they came to me. forty million dollars was what they believed they would have earned if the deal had succeeded, added to everything they had lost.”
“They expected you to pay all of that?” you asked in disbelief.
“They said I could take as long as I needed and I could repay it at whatever pace I could manage, and they would never tell anyone what happened,” she said, before finally looking up at you.
"How much have you paid so far?" you ask, though some part of you already knows the answer will hurt you.
"Five hundred thousand. A little more, actually, slowly but steadily I was paying it off, but it has been years since the deal, ____," she said, her eyes filled with tears.
You have never seen her crying this much, not even at your father's funeral where she held back her tears for her children, "I didn't want you or Suji to know. It’s a debt I don’t want the two of you to carry.”
"And the rest of it?" you finally asked, "you wouldn't have called me here just to tell me about the debt or the amount. There's something else, right?"
Your mother's hands tighten in her lap, "They want to erase the whole forty million debt, if.. "
"If what?" you asked nervously.
"If you marry their son, Jungkook."
You laughed at your mother, because what she just said sounded like an opening line of a story or a cringe fan fiction you read on Wattpad years ago.
Then you looked at her face and understood she wasn’t trying to fool you at all.
“Mom,” you quietly said, your voice shaking out of anger, confusion, and sadness, you couldn’t really tell.
“I barely know him anymore. We haven’t spoken in years, and he’s not the boy from my childhood anymore. I don’t even know who he is now.”
“I know,” she said, and she sounded as if she dreaded saying the idea aloud, for even thinking of asking you to do this, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for even considering asking this of you,” her voice trembled, “I’ve thought it over in my head for weeks, and I feel so bad as a mother, it feels as if I’m selling you to fix my own mistake.”
She drew in a breath, “It’s fine, you don’t need to do this. I’ll find another way. I will not make you responsible for a debt that belongs to me.”
“Jungkook is a good-looking man, Mom. He’s rich too and he could have anyone he wanted,” you hesitated before asking further, “so why would he agree to this? Why me?”
“He’s refused everyone his parents have introduced him to,” she said quietly, “for years, apparently he has refused half a dozen women. From what I understand, he turned every one of them down.”
She paused before adding, “But this time, his parents told me it was his idea,” her eyes lifted to yours, “he chose you.”
You thought it was bullshit, why would Jungkook choose you out of all people? It was clear as days that his eyes were never on yours, and all of the sudden he has chosen you?
Jungkook was an old friend you spent years hoping never to see again. What could someone like him possibly want from you now?
You couldn’t help but wonder if being chosen meant being wanted by Jungkook, or if you were simply the easiest answer to him; something he agreed to because saying yes was easier than arguing with his parents over a marriage he did not care enough to refuse.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You said yes.
Because when you did the math more than once that week, lying awake in the dark, trying to picture your mom at seventy still working even during the weekends to pay down a debt that is almost impossible to pay off.
You just couldn’t make yourself accept a future that looks like that when you have the power to end it with a single word.
You said yes because you have spent your whole life being the person who helps everyone around you. The little sister who never made anyone feel lacking in anything, the daughter who learned early not to add her own weight to a household already struggling with just one income. You were always the person who takes care of others when they are sick and never asks anyone to do the same for you.
It is the only thing you have ever known what to do. And some part of you just does not know how to look at someone who needs you and say no, even when the person who needs you most is yourself.
Then there is the other reason.
That small part of you that is still ten years old, still standing behind a curtain while Jungkook smiled at you, has never fully stopped hoping there might be a version of this where Jungkook looks at you without hatred.
You know how ridiculous that sounded.
You know it is not the kind of reason anyone sensible enough should agree to a marriage. But you were ten when you fell for him, and somehow, despite everything, a part of that girl never really went away. When your mother said Jungkook had chosen you, that little girl came rushing back.
You understand, even as you agreed to the marriage, that this is a stupid reason to ruin your life. Yet you said yes anyway, because you have never been as rational as you would like to believe when it comes to Jungkook.
Because some part of you would rather walk willingly into the fire than spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened if you had turned away.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Two weeks later you were standing in a hotel lobby, your hands were trembling despite the summer heat outside, because his mother suggested or insisted, really, that the two of you meet before anything was finalized.
You spent forty minutes deciding what to wear and hated yourself for even caring about it.
Jungkook was already there when you arrived, sitting at a corner table with his jacket off and his sleeves pushed up, and his phone in his hand. He didn't stand up when you sat down.
Up close, he still looked familiar, only older now. He had tattoos all over his right arm and there was very little left of the boy who used to smile at you like the two of you shared a secret.
"You're late," Jungkook said, not even looking up to look at you.
"By only four minutes," you answered.
"Four minutes I didn't have."
"Then you should've told your mother not to schedule this in the first place," you scoffed.
That finally made him look up from his phone. Something changed across his face, you could tell that Jungkook was surprised that you answered back at him instead of backing down like he seemed to expect you to do.
You remembered, vaguely, a boy who was gentle to you. There was very little of him left in the man frowning at you now, and you hated that some part of you still mourned the loss of someone you barely knew anymore.
"You don't remember me, do you?" Jungkook asked.
"Oh, I remember you," you said, “though you used to be nicer."
"You used to be shorter," Jungkook said, rolling his eyes at you.
You ordered coffee neither of you touched and spent the next forty minutes arguing about the wedding neither of you wanted.
And some small, foolish part of you enjoyed that meeting because arguing with Jungkook meant he was looking at you. It meant you mattered enough to annoy him.
It meant, for those forty minutes at least, you managed to take up space in his mind.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You married him six weeks later, on a bright Saturday in August, in a dress that cost more than your mother's monthly salary, in a ballroom filled with flowers your mother-in-law chose without consulting you.
The man standing in front of you was not the boy who once found you behind a curtain during a hide-and-seek game.
Jungkook shook your hand instead of kissing you when the officiant told him he could. He even came up with a charming joke about how shaking hands was an inside joke between the two of you, which made the room laugh.
When you told Suji and Taehyung that you were marrying Jungkook, neither of them believed you. It happened too quickly, you have never told them you were in a relationship, there was no engagement or anything that might have explained how the two of you have gone from never speaking to planning a wedding.
You could not tell them about the debt. You didn’t want them to be angry with your mom, so you insisted it was a long time coming. You told them you have always loved Jungkook and that, somewhere along the way, he secretly started to feel the same way.
Suji and Taehyung did not believe that either, of course they didn’t, they knew Jungkook has always liked Suji. They just didn’t want you to know it, that was what they have been protecting you from since you were ten. So, at the wedding, neither of them cried. Even Jimin and Yejin didn’t bother to congratulate you either.
Suji only held your hands for a moment, while Taehyung stood beside her with an expression you couldn’t bring yourself to read.
“We’re here for you,” Suji said.
“Anytime,” Taehyung added.
You couldn’t tell whether that was a warning, but you knew then that they knew something you didn’t.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook’s hand on your waist during the first dance felt cold, because he was touching you only because the event expected him to. He never pulled you closer or whispered something sweet in between of the dance. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere over your shoulder, while you moved together with the applause of people who believed they were watching two people in love.
Later, in a hotel suite far too large for two people who had nothing to say to each other, you and Jungkook sat at opposite ends of the couch, still dressed in your wedding clothes.
Jungkook's tie had been pulled loose and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. Your veil was folded beside you and the hand bouquet of flowers were placed right between the two of you.
“Just so we’re clear, we’re only married on paper,” Jungkook eventually said.
Jungkook didn’t think he was being cruel to you. If anything, he believed he was doing you a kindness by being honest from the beginning.
“I won’t cheat on you. I can’t afford to have my company being caught up in a scandal,” he continued, “but I’m not going to treat you like a wife. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just my roommate.”
“Okay,” you said.
It was the only word you could utter at that moment.
You did not know how to explain how his words made you feel. You only knew that you already decided Jungkook would never see you cry over something he clearly would never think was worth grieving.
You changed out of your wedding dress in the bathroom because it felt strange to do it in front of a husband who barely looked at you since the ceremony.
That night, you slept on opposite sides of the same bed, with a pillow placed between the two of you like a line neither of you was meant to cross.
By the time you woke up the next morning, Jungkook was already gone.
At the very least, Jungkook had the decency to leave a note on the counter with his flight time. Much later in the marriage, you would realize it was the first of countless mornings that started the same way:
waking up to find out that Jungkook already left.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
first year of marriage
Jungkook moved into the guest room during the very first day you started living together. That first night, you lay awake in the enormous bed you were apparently meant to have all to yourself, listening to the faint sounds of Jungkook moving around the apartment.
Then during the first year of your marriage, you found yourself keeping track of everything Jungkook never did.
You stupidly believed that if you counted the nights he came home, the meals you shared, and the times he looked at you like he cared about you, then you might be able to prove that things were getting better. And when they did not, the numbers became proof that you had not imagined how lonely the marriage made you feel.
You hated that you cared enough to count it all and you hated yourself even more for still waiting for Jungkook to change.
Pathetic did not feel like a strong enough word for measuring your marriage by how little your husband gave you, only to find yourself disappointed each time the answer was almost nothing.
You counted the nights he came home before midnight: 11 out of 365 days.
You counted the meals you ate at the same table: 4, and two of those were during the week his grandmother visited. To Jungkook, keeping up appearances to his family mattered more than whatever existed between the two of you.
You counted the number of times he asked how your day was: 0.
Well, what did you really expect?
This was an arranged marriage, and Jungkook chose you because he knew you would be easy to please without ever having to worry that you might leave the marriage. At some point, you realized maybe Jungkook had always known how you felt about him. Perhaps that was why he had chosen you as his wife in the first place.
Yet what some stupid part of you wanted was to know undoubtedly that he cared for you, even just a little.
Whenever you were out with friends and thought of him, you would bring something home and leave it on the counter with a note telling him it was his to eat or drink.
By morning, the food was always still sitting there on the counter, clearly untouched.
Jungkook never ate any of the food you brought home for him, not once that entire year. So eventually, you stopped being surprised and then, sometime near the end of the first year, you stopped bringing anything home at all.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Family holidays were the worst because Jungkook never bothered to show up. So you had to act and lie to everyone around you that the marriage was fine and Jungkook is just one busy businessman.
“He’s on a business trip,” you told your mother at Chuseok, “the company’s expanding into three new markets this quarter. He barely has time to sleep.”
“He’s swamped with work,” you told Suji at your father’s memorial dinner. That was the one day you truly wanted him there. Just once, you wanted your fake husband to stand beside you at your father’s grave, so you didn't have to lie when you were already drowning in grief and sadness. “Jungkook sends his condolences,” you added.
He did not.
You made it up, the way you always did. He did not come because he did not want to, because you were not worth giving up even a single hour of his life for. You could not say any of that to the people who loved you, not yet and maybe not ever.
Besides, you had no one to blame but yourself.
No one had forced you to say yes. Your mother would have been fine if she had to keep paying the debt, even if it took the rest of her life, and you could have helped her without marrying Jungkook. There were always other choices you could have picked, harder ones perhaps, but they always existed.
Yet you chose this route.
You walked into the marriage willingly because some foolish part of you wanted an answer to the question you’ve always had since you were ten: what would happen if Jungkook chose you to be his partner?
Well, now, the adult version of you know.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
What you didn't know that first year was that Jungkook noticed all the empty containers more than he let on, he noticed all the food you brought home for him to consume.
Jungkook would come home late most nights, and sometimes later than he actually needed to, because coming home early meant having to sit in the same room as you, and Jungkook never knew what to say to you.
He would see the food you left for him on the counter with a small note on top of it. And every time he saw it, something in his chest felt weird. Jungkook told himself what he felt had to be guilt, there was no other reason for him to care about you.
A few times, Jungkook found himself standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night, holding the food you brought home and he would just stare at it for a while before putting it back exactly where you left it. Because he didn’t want you to know he had even looked or noticed the effort you put in for him.
To Jungkook, the whole point of this marriage was revenge.
You ruined his life, so he was ruining yours.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
second year of marrtiage
By the second year of your arranged marriage, you were used to the coldness between you and Jungkook. You stopped hoping for him to change his ways, you stopped waiting for him at dinner and setting out a second plate.
You started going to Suji's for girls’ nights and coming home late on purpose, just to see if Jungkook would notice and he never did. Thankfully, it didn't hurt you as much as it would have in the first year. Most nights, he was either still out or locked inside his study. Sometimes the light under the door was the only sign that he was even home.
The apartment stayed exactly the same whether you were there or not.
At New Year, your aunt cornered you before dinner, “Where’s your husband? We’ve only met him twice in two years, and one of those times was at your wedding.”
“He’s closing a deal in Singapore,” you answered easily as lying about Jungkook was almost natural by now, “it’s a big one, so he had to be there.”
What she did not know was that you cried in your car before coming upstairs. You gave yourself exactly ten minutes to cry, sitting in the dark parking lot with the engine off and your forehead pressed against the steering wheel. Once ten minutes were over, you went upstairs to greet your family and smiled as if nothing was wrong.
It was also during the second year that you flew to Jeju for the wedding of one of Jungkook’s business partners.
You assumed you would sit together since it was still a public appearance. It felt stupid now, standing at the gate of priority passengers with your boarding pass in hand, but you didn’t think to check your tickets until Jungkook told you.
“I’m flying first class,” he said, “you’re in economy.”
“Oh,” you forced a small laugh, trying to sound as if it didn’t bother you, “I thought you would’ve booked us seats next to each other.”
“Economy seat should be fine for you. It’s only three hours.”
You spent the flight in a middle seat between two strangers, leaning past the person beside you whenever you wanted to look out the window.
Years ago, you believed being noticed by Jungkook would feel like winning something.
Now you were his wife, and he couldn’t even be bothered to sit beside you.
When the plane landed, he was not waiting for you, just as you expected. You had to book a taxi to the hotel alone and texted him to say you have arrived. And his only reply was the number of the room you had to share together since most of his colleagues and friends are staying in the same hotel.
When you let yourself into the room, he was on a call, feet up on the balcony railing as he sat on the balcony couch. It was thankfully an ensuite room with 2 separate beds, so you didn’t have to share a bed with him. Your only interaction with Jungkook then was when he lifted his finger in front of his mouth to tell you to be silent as he was talking on the phone.
At the wedding reception, you sat at a table full of his friends, who happened to be the group he used to hang out with at school, and you smiled throughout a dinner where no one asked you a single question about yourself, because to them you were simply "Jungkook's wife.”
You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation until one of the women at the table turned to you, “Is that even a real Van Cleef?” she asked, nodding at your bracelet, “it doesn’t look like it.”
“It isn’t,” you said, “it was handmade by a small business.”
“Huh,” she looked at it again, her mouth twisting slightly in disgust.
Another woman leaned closer, “Don’t you think you should make more of an effort with Jungkook’s friends? You never come to any of our gatherings. We barely know anything about you besides the fact that you’re Suji’s younger sister.”
Jungkook has never invited you to any of those gatherings, but you couldn’t tell them that, it would only give them something else to laugh about, “I’ve been busy,” you said.
“Jungkook is much busier than you,” one of the men cut in.
The first woman looked at you again, “You should be more careful about how you dress too, wearing cheap jewellery makes your husband look bad.”
It was not as if Jungkook has ever given you money to buy anything, not that you would have taken it even if he had.
“I see,” you muttered.
You stared at her bracelet before standing up from your seat, “Well, at least mine was made responsibly by someone who was paid fairly,” you said, “can you say the same about yours? Or do you just not care about the children who had to mine the diamond and stones as long as your jewellery came in an expensive box?”
Then you picked up your bag and walked away before any of them could answer.
Later, near the bar, you overheard your husband's name.
"Jungkook, honestly, I always thought you would end up with the sister. Suji, right? The one who's married to Taehyung now? She would've made more sense since you had always fancied Suji too. I mean, no offense, your wife seemed sweet, I guess, but.."
"She doesn't really fit in with us, does she?" someone else said, finishing the sentence the other couldn’t.
You turned away before you could hear Jungkook’s response, already heading back towards a table where you felt just as out of place, then his voice stopped you mid-step.
“Yeah,” Jungkook answered, sounding almost bored, “I guess Suji would’ve made more sense for me.”
That was the day you found out Jungkook fancied your sister.
You waited until you were in the hotel bathroom to cry. You locked the door, sat on the closed toilet lid, and pressed both hands over your mouth because Jungkook was somewhere on the other side of the wall and you could not let him hear you.
It should not have hurt as much as it did, you knew he did not love you. Jungkook made that clear from the first night of your marriage.
But knowing he did not want you was different from finding out he liked your own sister.
Suddenly, everything made sense to you.
The way Taehyung and Suji looked at each other when you announced the marriage to them and the way they never congratulated you. They knew, everyone knew except you.
And the worst part was remembering that you told them you have always loved Jungkook, and that he secretly liked you too.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
A few weeks later, back home, you went to dinner at one of Jungkook’s business partner’s houses. You wore the nicest outfit you owned, but you knew the second you walked in that it still was not enough for them.
One of the wives looked you up and down before smiling, “Cute,” she said.
And you knew it was not a compliment.
“No ring upgrade yet?” another woman asked during dessert, nodding at the plain band on your finger, “Jungkook usually doesn’t do anything halfway. I guess he’s saving the good jewellery for later.”
“She likes simple things,” Jungkook said without looking at you and then he continued, “Suji always said less is more too.”
You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom before your face gave you away. When you came back, they were talking about Suji, about how smart and impressive she was.
“You know,” one of his friends said to you as he refilled his glass, “we always thought Jungkook would end up with your sister. You seem sweet, but Suji and Jungkook would’ve made much more sense together.”
“None taken,” you said. This was a conversation you have heard before, so you didn’t really care much of it, at least that was what you thought.
You looked at Jungkook across the table and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Jungkook could have told them to stop. He could have done anything that made you feel like you were not just the wrong sister sitting in Suji’s place. But instead, he looked away and didn’t even bother to correct them.
You didn’t speak during the entire drive home, Jungkook didn’t ask what was wrong or maybe he didn’t even notice how your silence was different, or maybe every silence with you sounded the same to him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The next morning, you tried to talk to him about it, because some stubborn, hopeful part of you still believed that if you just explained it clearly enough, he would understand how you felt.
"You compared me to my sister in front of your friends," you said, over coffee he was drinking standing up, already half way out the door.
"It wasn't a big deal," he said, checking his watch, “it was a joke."
"It didn't feel like a joke."
"I don't have time for this right now," he said, "can we talk about it tonight?"
You knew, even as you nodded, that tonight would turn into tomorrow, and tomorrow would become some vague promise of “later”. By then, you already knew what later meant with Jungkook, it meant never.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
What you did not know was that Jungkook kept thinking about what he said in Jeju.
“Suji would’ve made more sense.”
The words came back to him at random times; in the shower, in the elevator, during meetings when he was supposed to be listening, and he kept telling himself it was true. Suji was always the one he wanted and everyone knew that.
Still, he could not understand why saying it had made him feel so bad.
Jungkook should not have felt guilty. You were the reason he lost Suji in the first place. You were the reason she had chosen Taehyung and left him behind.
So if anyone deserved to feel guilty, it was you.
Later that year, on a night you were out, he opened the cabinet and took out two plates without thinking. He stared at them for a few seconds before putting one back.
You stopped setting a place for him months ago, but he watched you do it so many times during the first year that the habit had somehow stayed with him. He stood there longer than he needed to, wondering why he reached for two plates when he knew you were not coming home.
For years, Suji had been the person Jungkook believed he wanted. His friends still mentioned her like she was some great love he lost, and he let himself believe that was true because it gave him a reason to stay angry.
But whenever Jungkook tried to remember her, his mind kept going somewhere else. He remembered sitting at your family’s kitchen table, helping you finish a puzzle because no one else wanted to. Jungkook remembered finding you behind the curtain during hide-and-seek, and he remembered how easily you used to laugh around him.
Jungkook has not heard your laugh in a long time and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
One night, while you were out celebrating a friend’s birthday, he sat alone in the living room with a drink in his hand. He remembered you mentioning the party, though he couldn’t remember whether you told him directly or if he saw the birthday card on the counter.
Jungkook looked around the apartment and thought that you were probably happier when he was not there.
And Jungkook did not like that thought. He did not like knowing that you could leave the apartment and become a completely different person around everyone else; someone happier.
He poured his drink into the sink and went to bed early.
Jungkook told himself what he was feeling towards you was guilt that would pass if he ignored it long enough.
It did not.
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third year of marriage
By the third year of marriage, you stopped hoping at all.
Whatever hope you carried into the marriage was nowhere to be found. You could not remember the exact moment it happened, you only knew that one day, you stopped expecting anything from Jungkook.
The two of you have been living separate lives under the same roof.
You paid for half of everything, the groceries, bills, and all the other small expenses neither of you ever discussed.
You have also gotten even better at lying during family gatherings; “he’s travelling,” “he’s busy,” or “the company is going through an important season.” You said the same excuses so often that the lies came out without any effort nowadays, even Suji stopped asking you questions about Jungkook.
“You know you don’t have to keep covering for him,” Suji said quietly at your mother’s birthday after you finished explaining Jungkook’s empty chair for the hundredth time, “we’re not going to think less of you if you tell us the truth.”
“I know,” you said.
You just didn’t have the energy to say it out loud. Once you told them, they would worry, they would ask what you planned to do, they would want you to leave him, and then you would have to explain why you even stayed for so long.
Some nights, you sat alone in the apartment and thought about how long it has been. Three whole years; you have spent three years living with someone who barely knew you.
You counted everything during the first year, but eventually, you stopped doing so. The amount of things Jungkook has done for you has become too embarrassing. There was no point keeping track of shared meals when there were barely any to count.
You feel like a different person now, sometimes, you almost feel sorry for yourself.
You waited so long for your knight to choose you, never knowing that when he finally did, it would be the very thing that broke you apart.
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Sometime during the third year of the marriage, Jungkook finally began to understand something he spent most of his life getting wrong.
It has never really been Suji.
For years, he has been so sure she was the one he wanted. Suji was beautiful, confident, and always at the centre of everything. Everyone liked her, so wanting her had always made sense to Jungkook, especially when everyone around him seemed to expect it.
But when Jungkook thought back to the years he spent at your family's house as a kid, the memories that stayed with him were never really about Suji.
It was you sitting beside him at the kitchen table, asking for help with a puzzle even though you were too shy to look directly at him. It was you hiding behind the curtain during hide-and-seek and him trying not to laugh when he found you. It was the way you used to save him a seat at lunch, the way you followed him around when you were younger, the way your face lit up whenever he paid attention to you, as if he'd done something far kinder than he actually did.
Somehow, Jungkook took all of those memories and put Suji's name all over them instead. Maybe it was because Suji was his age, and she fit so easily into the rest of his life. You have only ever been Suji's little sister, or at least that was what he always told himself. And the truth came to him slowly, then all at once.
It would have been easier if Jungkook could have kept blaming you.
Jungkook was sixteen when he finally found the courage to tell Suji how he felt, he was certain she felt the same way, only for her to turn him down. Suji told him she liked Taehyung, not him. Then she told him that even if she felt differently, she could never be with him. She told him that she couldn't bear the thought of you finding out that the boy you adored since you were ten had fallen for your own sister instead.
That was the day Jungkook decided you were the reason he lost Suji. He never could decide who he was angrier at; you for telling her first or Suji for choosing you over him.
And Jungkook found it easier to be angry at you.
He told himself for years that marrying you was a way of taking back what he lost, except somewhere in the second year of your marriage, the plan stopped feeling like justice and started feeling like something he will regret his whole life.
Because somewhere in that same year, without meaning to, Jungkook started noticing you.
He noticed that he memorised the sound of your keys in the door. He noticed he wasn't surprised your mug was blue, because he remembered you telling him back when you were still a kid that blue was your favourite colour.
Jungkook started noticing the shows you watched in the living room that he could hear from his room, the nights you came home late and laughed quietly on the phone before disappearing into your bedroom, and the way the apartment felt different when you were gone.
He noticed you took your coffee black in the mornings but liked your tea with milk at night. Jungkook noticed the light under your door usually went out around midnight, and on the nights it didn't, he found himself lying awake wondering what was keeping you up.
Jungkook noticed how you would go still for a second before answering your mother's calls, then soften your voice the moment you picked up. He noticed you still bit the inside of your cheek when you were concentrating, exactly the way you did at ten years old.
He spent years insisting he had no interest in getting to know you, and somewhere along the way, he memorised you completely.
He even started coming home earlier on the nights he knew you would be there; early enough that he could hear you moving around in the kitchen, or catch a glimpse of you before you went to bed.
Jungkook remembered that night in Jeju more clearly than he wanted to. He watched you leave the table after his friends made fun of your bracelet, and for a second, he almost went after you. Yet he did nothing instead and later at the bar, he told someone that Suji would have made more sense for him. It was just easy to say because he has been telling himself the same thing for years.
It was easier to believe he lost Suji than to admit he was ruining whatever chance he had with you.
The night he finally realised it, he tried to think about Suji, tried to search for whatever he spent years insisting was still there and there was nothing. Whatever he felt for Suji disappeared a long time ago. Jungkook only kept holding onto it because it felt familiar, because blaming you was easier than admitting he was the one in the wrong.
He knew more about you than he ever bothered to learn about Suji, and that was when he finally understood that all along, the person he has been thinking about was you.
Somewhere in the middle of an arranged marriage he agreed to as a revenge, Jungkook had fallen for the person he was punishing, and he only realised it after you had already stopped caring whether he came home.
The only question left was whether Jungkook had realised he witnessed your devotion too late.
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You didn’t come home that night, instead you called your sister for an emergency meeting at your mom’s place, "Come by mom’s house tonight," you pleaded, "please."
Suji and Taehyung were already there when you arrived.
You sat down at the kitchen table where you grew up doing homework, "I need to tell you guys something," you said.
So you told them about how he treated you, you told them the reason behind the empty chair at every holiday, and every single thing that happened during your marriage.
The moment you stopped talking, your mother went to her knees in the middle of the kitchen. You have never, in twenty-six years, seen your mother on her knees for anything, not even at your father's funeral where she stood so straight and so still you worried she had forgotten how to bend her knees
"I did this to you," your mother cried out, and she was frantic in a way you have never once witnessed, her hands were shaking as she reached for yours, "I owe them the money, not you. I sold you to fix my own mistake and I have watched you smile through three years of a marriage that's been eating you alive and I told myself it was fine because you never once complained, because you're so good at never complaining, and I am so sorry, I am so sorry, please forgive me."
You dropped to your knees and held her, and you cried the way you haven’t let yourself cry in years. You cried until your throat was hurting, until Suji came around the table and wrapped her arms around both of you, until Taehyung stood a few feet away with his jaw tight and his hands curled into fists.
"It's okay," you said, when you could speak again,"I'll always help you, Mom. I mean that, I’ll help you pay that debt. But this time, I want a divorce."
Suji was already standing next to you, and the look on her face was one you'd never seen there before, "I am going to kill him," she said, “I’m sorry, ____. I never.. I should have known. I should have asked you harder. I should have protected you."
"Don't," you said, “please. I don't want any of you doing anything. I don't want him in my life anymore, and I don't want to spend one more minute of my energy on him. I just want it to be over. I want to be done."
They didn't like it.
You could see in all of their faces that it was hurting them not to do anything in your stead. But they loved you enough to hear you out.
For the first time in three years you slept in your childhood bedroom, and that night, you slept better than you have in a long, long time.
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At first, Jungkook didn’t think much of it when you weren’t home. You went out sometimes. Three years of marriage taught him your routine; Tuesdays with your girlfriends; the occasional weekend at your mother’s.
Jungkook came home the first night to an empty apartment, ordered food, and ate it standing at the kitchen counter. Your disappearance didn’t seem unusual enough for him to question it.
By the second day, the apartment felt different and he couldn’t immediately work out why. The coffee maker hadn’t been used, there was no bitter smell in the kitchen when he walked in that morning and the mug you always used for tea was still sitting where he left it two days ago.
Jungkook looked at it for longer than he should have, then he checked the entryway for your shoes and they weren’t there. An hour later, Jungkook checked again, and still you weren’t back home.
By the third day, he texted you.
Jungkook: You okay?
No message came back. He stared at the screen until it dimmed in his hand again, and when Jungkook unlocked it, there was still nothing.
By the fourth day, the uneasiness became too loud for him to ignore. It followed him into the shower, the car, and the office. Jungkook sat through meetings without taking in a word. Jungkook asked his assistant to repeat what they just said three times, and afterwards Jungkook still couldn’t remember what they were even discussing.
Jungkook called you once in the afternoon, then again on the drive home, but both calls went to voicemail.
Jungkook wasn’t used to this.
Jungkook is used to handling problems, hell, he has built companies and sat across from men twice his age and made them agree to terms they had sworn they would never accept. Jungkook knew how to remain calm when everyone else in the room was losing their mind.
But that night, at two in the morning, Jungkook lay awake thinking about one unanswered text, thinking about where you were, if you were eating well, if you were sleeping soundly, if you will ever come back home to him.
When did he become like this?
By the fifth day, Jungkook drove past your mother’s street twice.
The first time, he told himself he had taken the wrong turn. The second time, he slowed down near your house and looked for a light in the windows. Jungkook wanted proof that you were there, that you were somewhere and you didn’t simply disappear beyond his reach.
Jungkook hated how badly he needed you. He opened your contact on his phone again and again but never pressed call, his thumb only hovered over your name until the screen went dark again.
The past three years of marriage have been made up of small things he never should have done. The meals you prepared that he barely touched, the questions he answered without looking at you, the evenings when you sat beside him and eventually stopped trying to start a conversation.
You tried to make a life with him, yet Jungkook treated every attempt as an inconvenience.
For years, he told himself that he was the victim, that Suji was the person he should have been married to. But when Jungkook forced himself to remember exactly why he liked Suji, he felt nothing.
What Jungkook remembered was always you and everything the two of you had done together. He remembered a girl half his size sitting across from him, looking up at him like he was her world. He remembered playing hide-and-seek with you and he remembered pretending not to see you.
Jungkook always said Suji was the person he was the happiest with, but all the memories that felt warm to him, belonged to you.
Admitting the truth would have meant admitting that Jungkook spent years hurting the wrong person. And tonight, Jungkook sat alone in the living room and finally clearly admitted the one he always wanted was you.
Jungkook didn’t want a divorce and he did not want you to leave him.
When he imagined the apartment being empty of your things, Jungkook’s chest started hurting. When he imagined another man hearing you laugh, learning what food you liked, being invited to your mother’s house, he felt something pressing against his chest that it was hard for him to breathe.
Jungkook wanted you to remain his wife and the thought made him feel ashamed of all the things he had done to you the past three years.
“My wife,” Jungkook said to his empty apartment.
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Jungkook tried to call Suji, but she didn’t answer. So, the next morning, he called Taehyung and to his surprise, Taehyung answered on the second ring.
“Stay away from my family,” was all Taehyung said when he picked up.
“I knew you had feelings for my wife,” Taehyung continued, “I have known for years, I knew since we were children, Jungkook. I didn’t say anything because I thought you would get over it. I thought it was some pathetic thing from when we were younger that would eventually die out.”
“Taehyung,” Jungkook tried to cut him off, but Taehyung wouldn’t let him.
“No. You don’t get to say shit. It’s been years,” Taehyung said, “and while you were busy feeling sorry for yourself, you destroyed her sister. Three years, Jungkook. She carried your marriage alone for three years and still smiled through every family dinner because she didn’t want anyone worrying about her. We recently found out it was an arranged marriage, fine, you didn’t have to love her, but you could have treated her decently.”
“You knew she didn’t deserve it,” Taehyung continued, “that’s the part I can’t understand. You knew exactly who she was, and you still treated her like she was responsible for everything you hated about your life.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” Taehyung let out a short and bitter laugh, “But I hope you do now. I hope you finally understand what you’ve done, and I hope you feel every second of it.”
Then the call ended.
Jungkook spent years blaming you for a decision neither of you had made. Every humiliation, disappointment, and every bit of grief he carried since he was seventeen, he somehow found a way to make it yours.
It was easier than looking at you, who stayed beside him and asked for so little, and realising he had still given you even less than that.
Now you were gone and there was no one left for him to blame but himself.
Jungkook was not the man he always imagined himself to be. He was pathetic, petty, cowardly, and far smaller than the woman he spent three years treating like nobody.
Jungkook has been nothing but a pathetic, petty and frightened boy wearing a man’s face.
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The next day, Jungkook went to your mother's house.
She opened the door and just looked at Jungkook with disappointment across her face. It was the same look she gave him when he didn’t kiss you at the altar.
"I'm not here to see her," Jungkook quickly said, before your mom could close the door, "I know she doesn't want to see me yet. I'm here because I need to say something to you, and I need you to hear me out."
She didn’t say anything, yet she opened the door wide enough to let him in. Unlike the other guests who have visited her home, your mother did not offer Jungkook tea. There was no need to treat him like an acquaintance, soon Jungkook will be her ex son-in-law and someone whom she’ll never ever meet in her life again.
She sat him at the same kitchen table where you cried just a few nights before.
"I owe your family a lot of money," she said, folding her hands in front of her, "I understand that. I understand this was an arranged marriage none of you asked for or wanted, and that you were as much a pawn in it as my daughter was.”
She drew in a small breath before continuing, “What I do not understand, Jungkook, is how you could treat another human being, my daughter, the kindest person I have ever raised and the one who never once in her life made anyone feel small… How could you have treated her the way you have done the past three years? I am in as much pain watching what this did to her as she is living it, maybe even more, because I was the one who put her in this situation with you in the first place. So tell me, why should I forgive you? Why should I let you anywhere near her again? What exactly do you intend to do?"
Jungkook has never been shaken by anything in his life, not until tonight, sitting in front of your mother.
"I don't have a clear answer," he said, "I wish I did. I spent years being angry at _____ for something that was never even her fault, something I won't even go into right now, because it's mine to explain to her first. And then I spent three more years married to her and still treating her like she was the one who wronged me. I'm not asking you to forgive me."
Jungkook looked at her, and he looked so broken your mother couldn’t help pitying him, "I'm asking for the chance to keep showing up until it means something to her. I'll beg for her forgiveness, I'll keep coming back even when she tells me not to, even when she has every right to slam the door in my face. But we'll talk, we'll argue, we'll probably fight, more than once, because I don't think she's going to make this easy for me, and she shouldn't and I wouldn’t want her to. I just know I can't bring myself to just let this end without actually trying for the first time in this whole marriage. I want to be someone worth her time. Without knowing it, I realised that the small things she has done throughout our marriage was never small at all. She loved me despite the ugly things I have done. I was just too busy being furious at my past to notice I was standing next to the person I actually wanted."
Your mother stared at him for a long moment, long enough that Jungkook thought she might ask him to leave without another word.
Her marriage to your father hadn’t always been easy. There were years of arguments over parenting, finance, and many more. There were years where she wondered if she married too young.
But when he died, something in her broke apart and it never quite put itself back together.
She remembered how you used to climb into their bed on Sunday mornings, how your father would let you win at cards, how you cried at his funeral so quietly like you were trying not to take up too much space even in your own grief.
you see, your mother knew about your crush on Jungkook. She watched you for sixteen years, she saw the way your face changed whenever Jungkook's name came up at the dinner table, and pretended not to notice the way you used to volunteer to answer the door whenever Suji’s group of friends came around, just in case it was Jungkook. She knew, long before you ever confessed to it, that you had loved him since you were a child.
And when she told you about the arranged marriage, some small, guilty part of her had let herself believe that maybe this could help. Maybe if she was going to ruin your life with her mistake, it could at least be with the one person you had always wanted to have a relationship with.
She was wrong.
She watched that hope change into something else these past three years, watching you get smaller in ways you thought she hadn't noticed, watching you repeating lies about a man who could not even be bothered to accompany you for your own father’s death anniversaries.
She was, is, a bad mother for that.
But she also knew you. She knew that if she asked you right now, whether some part of you still wanted to know if he was willing to try, you wouldn’t say no.
"Sit up straight," she finally said, and Jungkook blinked at her, caught off guard.
"I'm sorry?"
"You heard me," your mother’s voice was firm and steady, "If you're going to sit in my kitchen and tell me you intend to fight for my daughter, you're not going to do it slouched over like a boy waiting to be punished. Fighting for her means showing up like you mean it, every time, starting now."
Jungkook immediately straightened his posture.
"I'm not telling you this because I forgive you," she continued, "I will not forgive you for a long time, and that will be my right to decide, just as it will be hers."
She took a deep breath, before continuing, "But I have spent three years watching my daughter lie to the people who love her because she didn't want anyone to know how badly you have hurt her. If you're serious, then you do not need to convince me. You show her, you keep showing it to her, and you need to accept that she may never let you back in, and you don't get to be angry about it, not after all the years you've taken from her already."
"She was ten years old the first time she talked to me about you," she said quietly, "I used to think it was sweet. I didn't know I was watching the beginning of something that would be a long time pain for her. So if she gives you a second chance, you do not waste whatever time she gives you, Jungkook. She has given enough of it away for free, do you understand me?"
"I understand," he said.
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You came home from a work trip three days later and found Jungkook sitting at your family home’s dining table, his laptop open and a stack of papers beside him like it was any other weekday.
He was sitting there as if it wasn’t your first time seeing him since you walked out of the home you shared with him.
"What the fuck are you doing here?” you sneered.
Your keys were clenched in your hand, and your entire body went rigid at the sight of him sitting in a chair at your family home.
"I'm here to date you," he said, slowly looking up at you.
You stared at him in disbelief, "You are here to what?"
“Date you,” Jungkook said as he closed his laptop, “I want to date you properly this time.”
For a second, all you could do was look at him.
"I know what I did,” Jungkook continued, “I know what three years of this marriage to me did to you. I'm not asking you to forget it. I just.. I want the chance to earn what I should’ve earned before we ever got married.”
You let out a dry and humourless laugh, before asking, “What the fuck?!”
You dropped your keys onto the counter, and they hit harder than you intended it to be, “You think you can just show up here and ask to start over?”
“No matter what you do, my heart is not going to change, Jungkook. I'm not a child anymore. I know better than to give you a second chance, hell, I gave you a hundred chances over the last three years and you didn't take a single one.”
“You are beneath me now,” you said quietly, “do you understand that?”
“Then give me one last chance,” Jungkook said, almost pleading.
“Let me court you,” he continued, “let me date you the way I should have the past three years.”
You didn’t answer.
You just walked past him and went to get changed.
You were meeting your friends that night, and had no intention of spending another minute in that kitchen listening to Jungkook act like he could fix three years with a few words.
He stayed where he was while you moved around the house, but you could feel his eyes on you. It shouldn’t have felt unfamiliar, he was your husband. Still, you couldn’t remember the last time he actually noticed you.
but you hated that your body enjoyed the feeling of being noticed by him, hated that some part of you still wanted to be seen by him.
"Can I come?" he asked, from the living room, he sounded quieter than you have ever heard him speak, “I would love to get to know your friends.”
You scoffed out loud in response and left without answering him.
When the door shut behind you, something in your body felt at ease because for the first time in years, your life felt like it belonged entirely to you again.
FUCKKKKEJFJDNDDJD im already crying so much THISNIS JUST THE FIRST PART????? WHAT THE HELLL JUNGKOOK YOURE SICK YOU BETTER MAKE IT RIGHT FUCK HES SO STUPIDDDD
synopsis: your skills as a videographer gets put to the test when your friend, who happens to be in the same profession, falls victim to double-booking. problem is, you only specialized in weddings, not adult films. despite your initial reluctance, you take the job. cue the lights … you meet jeon jungkook, a pornstar, on set — in his world. you just never expected him to play a part in yours.
pairing: pornstar!jungkook x wedding videographer!fem reader
wc: 21.1k
genre: s2l, pornstar au, smut, angst, fluff
cw: slice of life, miscommunication, anxiety, fear of future, inaccurate adult filming industry discourse/depiction, jk had a tough time at work, mentions of injuries, tension, yearning, angsty confrontation, alcohol consumption, confessions, fluffy moments, 18+ ONLY, oral (f&m), rimming (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, cum eating, jk watches pix, protected sex, accidental orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, aftercare
a/n: finally here!! 😛🎉 as always, enjoy~
series masterlist | main masterlist | prologue | act i. | act ii. | act iii.
Is a glass of water half-full or half-empty?
You observe the glass, hoping for a revelation or answer — a good distraction from your miscalculations all evening; well, miscalculations in the duration of meeting Jeon Jungkook. Tucking yourself further into your small couch, the corners of your lips tug at the reminder of the boy. The icy glass cools your hot skin, which still remembers the flames he left you surrounded in on the dancefloor.
And those eyes — his always spoke to you without words.
Eyes smitten and playful all evening, you can’t forget how they morphed into fear and panic when you finally moved on the pathway he laid out for you. Were you wrong to assume he wanted more with you?
“Ah, so stupid.” You slam your eyes shut at the memory, shame heats your cheeks at his rejection — at another loss you’ll need to process on your own. Loss, after loss, after loss. It wears on your bones, empties your soul just like how you empty the glass of water clutched in your hand.
Didn’t matter whether your glass was ‘half-full or half-empty,’ the water will eventually be consumed. Jungkook had a way of overfilling your glass with an abundance of hope; however, you later found out the glass you shared with Jungkook contained holes and eventually left you empty.
No one leaves you empty like Jungkook does.
Sitting up higher on your couch, you dig your lower back into your armrest, wanting to feel some form of support.
Maybe you should’ve stayed and taken the water Jungkook offered. Wake you up from that drunken state and snap you out of your innermost desires for your friend. You’d probably go as far as blaming the alcohol and the night would’ve just ended from there.
Probably would’ve been a better alternative than pathetically running away. Then again, there was no way you were going to last another second in the venue — not after the way he pulled away.
You know it’s rude to leave in the middle of the party. Can’t even bear looking at your phone since ordering a cab outside the club, opting to place it on silent afterwards. Now, the phone rests heavily on your kitchen counter, begging to be checked on.
You should text him. Tell him you’re safe and use indigestion as an excuse for your abrupt departure — no one would ever find fault in that reason. Another pang of anxiety holds you back from touching your phone. What if he didn’t bother checking on you? Upset with your bad habit of leaving?
He has all the rights to.
Setting your feet into your house slippers, you’re thankful for the flat cushion after a night of dancing in heels. Bathroom first, then you’ll text Jungkook. The order of events seemed the most logical and definitely not your way of avoiding the inevitable. It’s a solid plan—
You jolt at the series of knocks against your door. Although your building was relatively safe, living alone had its downsides, especially at this hour. The grip on your glass changes and you ready yourself for self-defense.
Best case scenario? A ding-dong ditcher. Worst? Nope. You don’t want your mind wandering there.
One eye closed, you peer through the peephole.
The fisheye effect warps your vision, but you could easily make out the person standing facing away from your doorway. The dangly, silver five-hooped earrings were a dead giveaway to your visitor. Felt them graze the top of your hand every time he tilted his head in your touch. Felt them when you wrapped your hands at the base of his nape. They glimmered prettily under the club lights, but they look nearly dull now under your complex’s standard lightbulbs.
He’s a few steps away, pacing, looking anywhere but your door as if it was the most offensive piece of object … as if your home was the most deplorable place he could be at right now.
And it should be. He should be at his party celebrating his wins and accomplishments, surrounded by people who love and care for him — not on shame’s breeding grounds. Shame nearly has you running to hide underneath your covers, hoping he’d leave if you refused to answer. Rather than give into shame’s call for isolation, your fingers flick the locks and wrap around the doorknob.
“Jungkook?”
He’s still turned away from you, pacing back and forth in your building’s hallway. No longer styled how it was in the beginning of the night, his hair looks to be run through … whether it be by him or a stranger.
Couldn’t be you.
Your mouth parts, words lodged in your throat, but you manage to utter, “What are you doing here?”
He lets out a breath. So unstable, you could feel the restraint in his action but he stops in his tracks, head tilting up at the ceiling to will the words.
“Why do you keep doing that?” His voice raises, back still turned to you.
You frown, looking around to see if there was anyone in the vicinity. Definitely not at this hour. Your neighbors should be asleep, which is why you don’t want to make a scene outside your home.
“Jungkook—”
Suddenly, harshly, his back shifts and his body whips around, “Why do you keep leaving me? Is that all you know how to do?”
You’re standing face to face with his wide eyes and desperate furrowed brows. The hand raking through his hair only showcasing more of the distress forming on his forehead.
Your mind flashes back to your meeting at the milestone party. There was nothing wrong with your departure at that time. A small, but selfish part of you, doesn’t think you were at total fault for tonight’s departure either.
“Jungkook … please,” you stammer, eyes drifting down to your feet.
“I-I don’t fucking get it, Pix. I just–”
“Can you come inside?” You ask, looking around once more. And although Jungkook hasn’t made far enough noises to warrant a complaint, you’d rather talk inside the privacy of your home. “We can talk in here. Please?” You plead in a small whisper.
Jaw clenched as he looks at you and over the threshold of your home, he nods.
Citrus, with no more lingering scent of cigarettes, wafts past you. Even if he was upset with you, he’s still respectful in your home as he toes off his shoes at the entryway. He exhales through his nose, finally turning to face you. His jaw ticks, eyes bloodshot for multiple reasons but he’ll blame the alcohol and not the exhaustion of looking for you.
You can’t meet his eyes, can’t even bring yourself to speak in the comforts of your home.
“You keep doing this.” His voice cracks.
“I-I,” Your own voice wavers at his statement, you fight the lump in your throat as you lie, “wasn’t feeling well—”
“Cut the bullshit.”
You frown, having never seen Jungkook speak nor act this way towards you. He extends patience and understanding towards you like an additional limb on his body; perhaps, you’ve tested them enough tonight. Still, your own emotions come out just as unsteady and unreasonable.
“You’re being unfair.” You croak.
“I’ve been anything but that, Pix.” He retracts his head, brows furrowed. “You’re the one that left. Like you always do when things don’t go your way.”
Your brows pull together, unable to mask the hurt at the accusation. “What did you expect me to do? You—” Your bottom lip trembles.
“What?” He takes a step forward and you’re once again engulfed in his overbearing scent. The action stunts your train of thoughts, and for a split second, you think he’s almost just as affected.
You’re tired of going in circles, chasing but also running away from what appears to be your own desires.
“You led me on all night.” Voice small, Jungkook nearly misses what you say.
His frustration morphs into surprise, then guilt at the sudden forwardness of your words.
“I …” His eyes widen at the realization as he chews on the inside of his cheeks. He shakes his head, denying the allegations. “I didn’t.”
“But you did.” You walk past him, lower back leaning against the kitchen island. Arms crossed, you don’t miss how Jungkook’s eyes drop to your breasts pushed together. His throat bobs, hands twitching on his sides as he tries to rack up an appropriate response.
“We were dancing. Having fun.” He reasons. “That’s all.”
Friends don’t dance the way you both did tonight; their touches don’t burn. They don’t leave the party after being deserted from a dodged kiss on the dance floor. They sure as hell don’t stare at you like you’re made of stardust.
“Okay.” As if whatever happened in the last couple of hours could be reduced to ‘just dancing.’
His throat emits a low growl, patience once again tested. “Why’d you leave?”
Truthfully? There was no alternate reality where you’d stay after his rejection.
Your crossed arms drop to your sides, throat tightening to keep the contents in your stomach from hurling out. You can’t bear the truth, which seems to point at the fact Jungkook has moved on and there’s no more room for you in his life and heart.
He’s left you behind.
Jungkook fills in the silence with the same words circling in your head, slipping from his mouth now directed at you with an ache you’ve done your best to forget. “You’ve moved on.”
Your face falls, having spent months trying to forget him through hobbies, friends, and even another person, only to find out … nothing’s worked.
Unable to meet his eyes, you mutter, “I had to.”
“I know.” He says, “I know that.”
The filter on your fish tank acts as a buffer for the silence stretched in the small distance.
“You’ve moved on, too.” You don’t mention the woman you saw in his apartment lobby, too afraid of the confirmation that he has indeed moved on.
He lets out a shuddering breath, head hung low. “I tried, okay? I really did.”
Something within you shatters at his revelation. It hurts to be right, and it hurts more knowing no one was at fault in the aftermath of a heartbreak.
He drags his hand down his face, fighting the drunken exhaustion and confusion. “Things got better, I swear. But then I see you and I’m just reminded …”
“Of what?” You ask.
He stays quiet. So different than the man who was just outside your door ready to scorn the world. You wonder how he has kept his composure during the times of your silence when all you want to do right now is shout for an answer, resolution … or ending. What was left after this? Was there another title after being demoted to friends?
… Strangers?
You don’t wait for his answer, choosing to fill the gaps of the conversation with your reality. “You don’t tell me about your life anymore. Like … like, I’m some sort of afterthought learning all these things about you after the fact.” Tears falling freely, you sniff and palm away the moisture on your cheeks.
“Pix–”
“Why did you push me away?” From his life, from the kiss … no clarification needed — it all bleeds together anyway. “Did I misunderstand?”
“Pix.” He repeats, eyes crestfallen and exhausted. “You’re with someone, there’s no way I would do that to you–”
“I’m not with him anymore.”
He pauses, drawing in a sharp breath. “Still doesn’t make it right.” Despite his words, you recognize a faint glint in his eyes.
Of course he becomes the voice of reason when this conversation shouldn’t exist among supposed friends. Now it’s your turn to stay quiet, too ashamed for further humiliation and rejection.
“All I do is remember you, Pix. All I find myself doing is thinking of you. Could never stop even if I wanted to.” He shakes his head. Your stomach sinks, an uncomfortable mass lodged in your throat as you process his words. “And I’m so tired of having to remember you.” He looks at you with so much anguish, wishing and begging for you to end this turmoil.
“Jungkook …”
“I still think about the night at the hotel.” He continues, jaw clenched to stop the trembles. “And I feel so guilty.”
You shake your head vehemently. “You never once did anything I didn’t want to do.”
“I knew you couldn’t be with me, but I still pushed for more. It was selfish of me and I—”
“I’ve always wanted you, Jungkook,” you sob. “You never gave me the chance to make things work.”
Your hands cover your face as you heave into your palms, moist from your tears and breath. Jungkook tilts his head up at the ceiling, furiously blinking away the stray tears he thought he had swore away on the cab ride over to your place.
The buzzing travels up from your fingers to the back of your head. Your body convulses from your silent sobs, mind numbing from all the fog and confusion. Like a bee, refusing to leave you alone, you want to cower away from the source of noise. The buzzing continues for another fifteen seconds, too loud even when neither of you utter a word. It’s impossible to avoid when the buzzing happens from within. How do you remedy this? How do you run away? How, how, how—
The buzzing stops.
Zapped away by a strong pair of arms, the bees stop swarming in your mind, all honeyed scent — all citrus consuming your senses.
Jungkook holds you and it’s the closest thing to the security of your home. Possibly better. Home shelters you from the brewing storm, and as you cry into the expanse of Jungkook’s chest, he holds you tighter, chin resting on the top of your head.
“What are we even doing?” Jungkook mumbles against your hair, voice hoarse and tired.
You inhale into your hands and answer honestly, “I don’t know.”
He swallows, breathing you in, “I hate this.”
Your heart crumbles again. Was this it? Has to be. He’s finally done and wants nothing to do with you anymore.
Instead of his warmth departing from your body like you’ve grown used to, he holds you tighter.
“I fucked everything up.” He says. “I messed you up, and I’m trying to do right by you, I swear, but I–”
His words are cut off with your arms around his waist. Face pressed into his chest, your tears became another source of darkness on his grey shirt, but neither of you cared.
“You didn’t mess anything up.” You heave. Months passed, things changed. Time was a marker for healing and forgetting old wounds; though, there were just some things — some people — you can’t and don’t want to forget.
“I missed you so much, Pix.”
You pull back a little to look at his face. Hurt and longing never needed a competition and there’s no winner when both of you were wounded in the process. The frame had always been a little unfocused and hard to decipher, but you’re both in view now.
“I never stopped thinking about you.” You confess.
He blinks twice, hand now coming to cup your wet cheek. Ache and remorse stretches over his face at the time lost in the absence of one another. He needs to be honest, barring out the truth if there was even a possibility to start anew.
“I can’t promise perfection, P.” He admits, scared and worried for this potential dealbreaker.
“I never asked for perfection.” You shake your head, breath finally coming out even. Pausing, you let the reality of your recent failures sink in, “I just got out of something and I don’t know if I’m any good, but I wanna figure things out with you — do things properly. Please give me time.” Please give us time.
You both loosen your hold on one another, but maintain your gazes as your hands finally intertwine. The hold is weak, full of uncertainty of the future, but you push forward, “Please?” You ask again, heart in your hands — no, heart in his hands. You pray and hope he handles it with care. He has all the power to do the opposite, turning your heart to cold steel for the next poor soul.
He doesn’t, though — can’t imagine anyone but him holding your heart with delicate hands if you allow him to.
Jungkook’s always wondered when the world would bend for him; yet, he’s got the world in his arms right now willing to bend for his sake.
He nods and the night bleeds into the morning as you and Jungkook sit on your small couch to catch up, mending lost time with one another. The hours of bitterness leading up to this moment was well worth it after you finally taste the hint of sweetness lodged behind his growing smiles. The catch up bounces back between idle chatters to late night secrets until you both settle into the mundane and content.
“Group work is the worst, P. Avoid it at all costs.” He recounts the number of times his classmates let him down on a project this past semester.
You laugh wholeheartedly. “Why’d you think I run this business alone?”
“Smart girl.” He grins, and your body warms from the small compliment.
A natural silence fills you both at this time, between the chuckles and stares. You think you could get used to this. A new norm knowing you both want to start over with an agreed upon future. The two glasses of water on your coffee table gets refilled throughout the night, but sits empty now.
Yet, you’re both so full.
And you realize no one’s replenishing the glass the way Jungkook does. Around your imaginary glass filled with holes, Jungkook always does his best to cover and mend them.
“I’m sorry for not keeping you posted on my life.” Jungkook says, knees brushing against yours. “I was trying to figure things out on my own.” He leaves out the part where he wanted to reach out for your opinion, opting to struggle by himself.
“Could’ve reached out to me. I wouldn’t have minded.”
He nods, lips pursed debating his next words.
“What?” You ask, eyes heavy from exhaustion, but you don’t want to miss a single second with your special boy.
“Mm, nothing.” His trademark dimples make an appearance when he hides away a playful smile.
“Come on,” you push, “Tell me.”
He laughs softly, lips pulling to an embarrassed smile, “Wanted you to notice me, so I …”
Your eyes narrow, doing your best to piece together the meaning of his words. Something finally clicks as you lean back against your couch. You’d never peg someone like Jeon Jungkook to do things out of spite or attention, but you suppose love has a way of making people do stupid things.
This was love, right?
“I know. Stupid and immature.” He shakes his head.
“It worked.” You shrug, returning his sheepish smile. He interlaces his fingers with you, relaxed knowing you had been trying to keep up with his life in secret.
He smiles, but shortly after dips a little at his next musing, “Classes have really taken up a lot of my time. I haven’t been able to work as much, but I still take on projects every month or so.”
Your expression falters a little, guilt filling your system as he relays this information. You nod, head leaning to rest on his shoulder.
“Does it bother you?” He asks another forward question. He doesn’t sound as uncertain as he did months ago in the hotel, courage coming as he knows your inevitable answer.
“A little.” You admit.
You’ll get used to this just as Jungkook needs to get used to this too — that sometimes he will disappoint and hurt. Your acceptance isn’t a form of a bandaid over a reopened wound; instead, allowing the healing process to take on whatever form is needed. Eventually a scar tissue will rise over the persistent lesion, granting you the chance to perform better this time around.
Around 5 a.m. your sleepy eyes fight to stay open as you watch Jungkook put on his shoes. He stands up, eyes heavy but with so much anticipation. Realizes the moment the door shuts behind him, he’ll be left anticipating the next time he’ll be graced with your company again.
He comes close, and with a soft exhale through his nose, he presses his lips to your forehead. Breath fanning over, his voice is low and gravelly on your skin, “See ya, Pix.”
Life with Jungkook, again, is ever soft and changing. The effort is there, the pace of the relationship slow as it should be. Jungkook’s main focus is school now and you’re there to support him along the way. You come over to work while he’s studying or in virtual lectures.
He wants you close. Giving you access to his apartment by creating your personalized finger scan into his home. You also give him a spare key to your place, prompted by a recent out of the city wedding you had to attend and no one else was available to feed Gum and Bubba.
On his large couch, you sit on the opposite end as you answer email inquiries. Wedding season’s peaking again and no matter how busy you may get, you’re never too busy for Jungkook. Nothing stops Jungkook from remaining close to you — not even his overly large couch. He’s never too far, wanting your legs slung over his lap as he listens to his lecture through his headphones. His hands mindlessly massage the bottom of your soles, knowing exactly where you’re most sensitive and tired after a long weekend of being on your feet.
You aren’t quite lovers, but you definitely are not just friends. What you’re building with Jungkook takes time. Lots of failing and hard days, but there are just as many and if more, softer and gentler days where you’re reminded this was all worth it.
Things move as they intend to. Like your slow evening walks, shared hot meals, and camera shutters when Jungkook needs to work on his portfolio or an assignment for class. He tags along with you on a couple of weddings to keep you company, inevitably revealing to you that weddings aren’t his thing. It’s good to be honest with these truths — one less field he’d find himself dipping with in the world of photography. But no matter his contempt, he likes being where you’re at.
His lecture finishes and he closes his laptop on his table, leaning back as he rests his eyes after realizing how long he’s been on the computer. Sure, school was difficult, but it was structured — no surprises. Just an obligation he willingly signed up for.
You don’t look up from your laptop, speaking as you type up a response to an inquiry, “What’s on your mind?”
He debates sharing his predicament, hands haven’t stopped his ministrations on your feet as if you were his version of a stress-ball. You breathe through your nose when he hits a particular pressure point.
“I have to go to work next weekend.” He sighs, working on your other foot now. “I’m tired.”
“Can you decline or postpone?” You look up, blue light from your screen bouncing back to your face.
He shakes his head. “Can’t. I signed a two-parter contract a while back and this is the last installment.”
You close your laptop, feet swinging down to touch his fluffy carpet rug as you scoot closer to him. You were aware contracts and waiver forms existed to protect a business and their clients. In Jungkook’s case, the production he signed with was protecting their assets and securing their future projects. It’s a little demoralizing to view Jungkook as an asset, but that’s how business worked. He had to fulfill his duties to avoid legal penalties.
You lean in and it’s a familiar sight Jungkook’s grown fond of these couple of weeks: cheek squished on his shoulder, you look up with reassuring eyes. ‘It’ll be okay.’
Slowly, you’ve grown to manage the unease of his work, ache returning similar to tides crashing onto land. Sometimes the waves hit stronger than anticipated, but smaller and more manageable tides come ashore.
“Just one day, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll be free to focus on your exams afterwards, hm?” You soothe, setting the scenario to make the finish line easier to visualize.
“Yeah.” He grunts, not completely relaxed at the idea of having to do something he doesn’t particularly want to, but a job was a job.
“Hey,” you sit up higher, “is there anything I can do to make it better?”
Shouldn’t have offered that because there’s probably a number of things Jungkook can list off the top of his head. His tongue grows heavy in his mouth at the mere idea of having anything he wanted from you.
“Something sweet?” You suggest, brows wiggling up and down.
“Right now?” Declining was never in the books when it came to desserts.
You shake your head with a small laugh, “Whenever you’re done with the project. I can bring something after.”
“Okay, Pix. I’d love that.” His hand holds yours. “Surprise me.”
Nights were always spent like this until it was time for one of you to leave. He walks you to your car, waving at the kind receptionist on the way out to the guest parking lot. No longer embraced in summer’s sweltering heat, fall’s brisk air hits your cheeks when you both step out the complex. You never needed an excuse to press your body closer to Jungkook’s side, hand lodged deep in his coat pocket.
“Bye.” You whisper, tippy-toeing as you press a kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger on his cold skin just a little longer.
The grip around your hands tighten as he fights off the intrusive thoughts of wishing for your lips to move over any expanse of his skin. There’s no need to deny the fact of having impure thoughts of you … had always been the case whether or not you were with him. It doesn’t help when you press your body closer to his, testing the boundaries of your new relationship with each other. Though, the test always stops where it is needed.
Passing the test, he gulps, “Text me when you get home, ‘kay?”
“I will.”
Five hours of work and he’ll be free. Considering the masses need to work on average an eight hour shift and sometimes more, Jungkook is fortunate for his work hours to salary ratio. Still not easy doing what he does especially since he isn’t in the right headspace at the moment and school’s been eating up his time — a love-hate relationship when it comes to being in a new learning environment.
He’s been reevaluating a lot these days, wondering how he’ll juggle his profession with school. And when he finds himself thinking too much of the possibilities, he forces himself to run from those thoughts of quitting everything all together.
In those difficult moments, thinking about you helps calm his nerves about the future and he feels himself landing back on reality. Not everything needs an immediate answer or decision; moreover, he’s allowed to make mistakes. Much like your relationship with him, the ambiguity doesn’t make him run for the hills anymore. Although you and Jungkook don’t currently have any labels for what you are now, there isn't any uncertainty in his devotion towards you.
He checks his bathroom mirror one more time, piercings taken out because today’s shoot may be a little more physically demanding and he isn’t keen on risking any additional injuries like he had sustained in the first shoot. He signed up for the project on a whim because … well, at the time the money and deal seemed decent. BDSM isn’t something he dabbled a lot in on both the receiving or giving end. However, around the same time he signed the contract, he was still grieving the relationship with you and in need of a distraction — something to make him feel again no matter how painful or rigorous to the body.
After the first shoot, he needed at least two weeks of rest … both mentally and physically. He isn’t fond of his co-star — Jungkook still remembers the numbers the man did to his body despite signaling his discomfort.
Locking his door, he makes his way to the elevator. The doors open to reveal a familiar face: Yoona.
She smiles at him, the lines around her eyes crease from the action. Jungkook nods and steps into the elevator next to her. Her strong perfume permeates his senses; a little too floral for his liking in comparison to the subtle cucumber and jasmine scent on your skin he’s grown attached to.
“Work?” He asks, looking at his phone. It’s nearly noon, a little late to be going into the office. Then again, what does he know about the corporate life?
“Hyunbin wanted me to visit.” Ah, her ex-husband — explains her appearance and unusual demeanor. He assumes a revenge outfit underneath her long fur coat. “You working?”
“Yup.” He exhales through his nose.
Even without his explanation of his reluctance, Yoona reads him easily … just like how she read him the first two weeks after his split with you, choosing to end things with him because she wasn’t fond of messing with someone who was in emotional distress. She’s already got a lot going on and the last thing she wants is a fuckbuddy using her as an emotional crutch.
She’d rather be a friend or a … mentor? Maybe just a friendly neighbor until he got his shit together.
Be it her years of wisdom or her innate ability to read the younger man, she catches wind of his unwillingness to go to work.
“Hang in there.” She offers, just as her friends regurgitated on multiple venting sessions during the nasty divorce process. It’s the bare minimum as a friend if they aren’t able to do more for you.
“Thanks, you too.” He returns the encouragement with a toothy grin. One of the advantages of being taller than most is his ability to spy over people’s phones. Yoona types away in her phone, the prior messages included a clear image of a male’s lower half and her own response with an image of her freshly showered body in a towel.
Even with her sunglasses on (which, by the way, are totally unneeded with this gloomy weather), she rolls her eyes under the elevator’s fluorescent lights.
“He’s been begging to make things work again.” She places her phone in her purse.
“You gonna let him back in?” Surely would lessen the alimony she has to pay him.
Yoona scowls, “I may be single, but I am not lonely.” The elevator dings and signals their arrival on the ground floor. “I can have my cake and eat it.” She smiles, red blooming with her pearly white teeth.
Jungkook laughs under his breath, a surge of sweetness also embraces him now after realizing he also has his ‘cake’ too. Hasn’t quite eaten you the way he wants to, but he’s content. Loves where you are both at and is willing to wait till things settle more in life for the both of you.
Yoona clears her throat, strong floral scent leaving along with her as she steps out of the elevators first. “Take care, Jungkook.” Her heels click on the marble floors as she runs out to the cab waiting for her.
Jungkook sighs again, making his way to his car and already programming the job site’s address into his Maps app.
Five hours and he’ll be done.
As promised, you have a sweet treat ready to reward Jungkook after his shift.
It’s uncharacteristic of Jungkook to not answer your texts after a couple of hours. You push away the worry as you make your way up the elevators, tiny brown bag containing something rich and icy you’d typically save for the summer.
Though, there were no rules on when to consume ice cream, especially if it was made by scratch — especially when you made it with your own spin. Anticipation brews as your steps near the front entrance of his home.
Your fingers press on the knob’s scanner and the latch clicks, ready for you to turn and enter into his home.
The living room’s dark, save for the small light Jungkook programmed to turn on at a specific time. There’s no greeting like you’re used to. Hanging your coat and scarf on the stand, you peer past the entryway as you toe off your shoes.
“Jungkook?” You call out with an air of uncertainty.
Still no answer. Your eyes adjust to the dim surroundings, eyes eventually falling onto a figure you’d recognize in any condition.
Jungkook’s laid down on his couch, one arm over his eyes. He’s in his sweats, showered and asleep. Your shoulders drop, tip-toeing past him to put the sweet treat into the freezer. You come back to the living room, not without picking up the fallen throw blanket on the ground, placing it on his body.
You could crack open your laptop to do some work in his kitchen until he stirs awake or just leave and let him rest. Straightening up from your bent position, a sharp inhale comes from below as Jungkook removes his forearm from his face and lifts his head up to peer around his surroundings. He sees you and drops his head in relief, breathing patterns stabilizing with a drag of his hand down his face.
“What time is it?”
“A little past 8.” You reply, sitting near his knees.
“Sorry, Pix. I crashed.” His throat cracks from sleep, “Time slipped.”
“‘S okay.” You reply, pinkie hooking onto his. “Would you like to rest some more? I won’t bother you.”
He swallows, unsure if he would rather be left alone or if he needed your company. He’s not sure he would be good company.
“I don’t know.” His other arm comes up again to cover his eyes. Misery also needed company too, and he doesn’t want to be away from you.
You seem to get the hint. Couch, stiff and hard as ever, seems to bend at the weight of you both for this moment of tenderness.
“Hard day?” You ask.
His throat bobs, and that’s when you notice the red marks near his Adam’s apple and his wrist. Your lips tug down, fingers itching to soothe the pain over his skin. You curl closer to him, hoping your presence would be enough to redirect his thoughts.
“Yeah. Was difficult.” He replies, voice shaky. His breath comes out uneven as he sniffles into his arm. “Ah, sorry, maybe it’s better if I’m alone.”
He hadn’t realized a couple tears had slipped out from the corners of his eyes until one of your hands cups his jaw, thumb rubbing away some of the moisture in your touch. He sucks in another breath, chest stuttering as a small sob tumbles out. He turns, burying his face into your chest as his arms come from underneath to hold you.
“I’m sorry.” He apologizes repeatedly. You repeatedly tell him you’re not leaving — that you’re here to stay. Fingers running through his dark locks, your touches force his eyes shut, a relieved sigh exiting as he regulates his breathing.
“I’m here, you’re okay.” You promise, your nails scratching his head produces a soft whimper as he buries his bigger frame deeper into your body. When you try to pull away to assess his face, he only tugs you in tighter. You chuckle, hand patting and soothing the expanse of his back.
“Kook?”
He grunts, too exhausted to verbalize a reply.
“I’m gonna go make something, okay? You stay here and rest.”
He reluctantly loosens his grip on you, and holds onto the fact you were staying. Accepting your proposal, he goes back into a more dignified position with his arm slung over his eyes.
You move with precision; kitchen layout memorized of where all the seasonings and cooking utensils were located, you come back into the living room with a small pot of ramen in under ten minutes. The wooden heat protector clanks onto his coffee table in your descent to the ground. You wince, apologetic for startling him again.
“Didn’t have to make me food, Pix.” He pushes himself up slowly, face contorting in discomfort as he sits upright.
“Wanted to. Come on, have a bite, please?” You had already started rolling the noodles into the spoon, creating a perfect single bite. You blow on the food a little before Jungkook dips his head halfway to receive the food.
Unlike the painful expression he previously sported, his brows furrow as he chews on the food — a good sign. Nothing’s more healing than a warm meal; a warm meal made with love.
“Thanks, P.” He smiles, and the parts of him lost during the hours of the shoot are slowly coming back.
“I’m glad.” Your eyes land on his neck first, then over his wrists where the red rings were most prominent. “Did you want to put on ointment? Tell me where you keep your medicine and I can—”
“It’ll heal on its own.” He declines, ready and rehearsed for your concerns. And because he knows there were a billion other questions in that pretty head of yours, he comes clean on his reasons for tonight’s exhaustion. “Co-star went off script towards the end and it threw me for a loop.” He explains, head rested on the back of the couch.
You nod, arms tightening around him. “That sounds awful. I’m sorry …”
He releases another heavy breath. “I-I don’t know, Pix. It’s usually not this bad.”
“What do you mean?” Frowning, you didn’t think you’d ever witness Jungkook in this state: defeated over the profession he willingly chose and stayed for.
His blank eyes stare off into the distance, zeroing on the corner of his flat screen television. The corners of his mouth twitch, exhaling a shaky breath before murmuring, “I’m scared to quit.”
And despite his discomfort with the subject, he continues, “I … I’ve been thinking about it and it feels like I can’t focus on other things when I have to think about work.” He also doesn’t want to mention the shame he has in quitting, inevitably proving people right that his line of work was not sustainable in the long-run. He doesn’t want to admit he’s outgrown the field that’s built everything around him: his friends, home, experiences, and … you. If it weren’t for his job, he wouldn’t have found you.
But was gratitude and loyalty needed for a profession that brings him more stress and worries?
Though rare, he’s wrestled with these difficult moments in this field, often wondering how life would be if he didn’t need to endure. What version of him exists outside of the industry? He knows what happiness is, but he’s also familiar with the deep dread and disappointment in staying.
“It’s scary.” You concede, staring off into the same space Jungkook had fixated. “But I know you’ll figure it out. You’re not alone. I’m here with you no matter what you decide on.”
His eyes well up again. He used to think people were crazy for suffering, crying during and off work hours. Now? He’s no different. Change is scary, but remaining the same is scarier. And he’s remained the same for so long, fighting the norms and societal expectations of him.
All this to realize … he’s also just a boy with dreams and aspirations, hope cupped in his hands waiting to be discovered. The industry may be a part of him, but it was never all he was. While he doesn’t know what the future entails, he knows he needs to do something different — his profession does not define his identity.
“Yes, I know.” He lets you rub gentle circles on his bruised wrist, lets you bring up his wrist and blow a cooling breath over his skin before you lay a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”
You and Jungkook remain like this for a while, just sharing each other’s warmth and company until you perk up about the dessert you brought over. He chuckles as you pry open the container and a peek of light orange reaches his vision. Jungkook relishes in the small notes of cinnamon and persimmons hitting his taste buds.
The container of ice cream gets annihilated within fifteen minutes, cold running down your esophagus and tummy, but there’s always a source of heat in your stomach as you sit close to your biggest source of warmth.
Refusing his offer to walk you to your car, you only allow Jungkook to see you out his door in favor of him resting more.
“Thanks for tonight, P. I really needed this.” He needs you more than ever. Holding your hands, he lets his gaze trail down to your lips before he brings them back up to your eyes. He’s been through this route many times, showing restraint because he knows better than to do something too rushed despite his mind and body screaming at him to disobey the boundary you both set.
As always, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.
It’s enough. Because he feels you through the food you make for him, your touch, and your unwavering care.
As you stare up at him with starry eyes, he also realizes:
Intimacy doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is with you.
Jungkook completed his first semester of courses with flying marks. With a heavy heart, he decided to stop working in adult filming after another week of mulling through his options. In his resolve he tells himself the decision’s indefinite … subject to change. But ever since he let his agent know of his career change, he has not looked back.
Though the weather remains chilly, spring’s around the corner. The season brings the birds in the early mornings, flowers blossoming around his apartment complex, and the love blooming in his chest whenever he sees you.
Tonight’s a special night for you. Your cohort wanted to do a little social gathering at a club and you invited Jungkook as your plus-one. He wasn’t planning on drinking, opting to be your designated driver for the night. He looks over at you, eyes sparkly with glitter … or perhaps, you glow more under his stares.
Weather’s still cold, but he knows it will warm up at the venue as the night progresses. He lays his brown jacket on your lap as he drives you both to the venue. You’re so pretty in your skin-tight black turtleneck and gold chain necklace. Upon final inspection in your body length mirror, you made a remark how you looked like The Rock minus the fannypack. Jungkook laughed and tugged you along, mumbling how you looked beautiful and how you were going to be late if you did another outfit change. And while the weather is ever turbulent, jumping between hot and cold days, there’s nothing turbulent between you and Jungkook.
Even though you abstained from changing out of your ‘Pre-2012 The Rock’ fit, you were late with how the parking situation worked out. Too many cars, too little parking options when you were deep into the nightlife district of the city. Jungkook parked at an open lot about a twenty minute walking distance. Terrible, you know. But the trip was well worth it with his company. Had you been alone, you probably would have chosen to order a cab, but you’ve never felt safer in Jungkook’s hand as you both walk down the busy streets on a Saturday night.
“Thanks again for coming with me.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Plus,” He squeezes your hand. “You’re coming with me to my friend’s wedding next weekend. So we’re even.”
“Oh no … weddings are so, so, so awful,” you chide with batted lashes.
He grins, “It is when you gotta be in dress pants.”
You giggle, staring up at the illuminated neon lights around town. “My classmates are excited to meet you, Mr. 9th-Annual-Shutter-Winner.” You grin, the side of your body presses close to him. You look down at his phone where it navigates the leftover walking distance to the club: estimated time of arrival – five minutes.
Jungkook was nervous. Not as a result of meeting your classmates, but he knew a certain someone was going to be there. Kim Taehyung, your best friend and confidant, will also be in attendance. He’s gotten along with him in the past on set. Eccentric guy, a bit of a Namjoon fanatic, but birds of a feather flock together. Namjoon’s creative, kind, and visionary. It’s only natural Taehyung gravitates towards him in this industry.
Regardless, Jungkook’s nervous. He doesn’t voice his concern when you had disclosed that Taehyung was aware of your relationship history with Jungkook. He would never hold you back on talking about your troubles to your friends because it’s important to build that trust and rapport. He hopes his entire persona isn’t completely irreconcilable just yet with the time he’s spent trying to grow and cultivate a healthy relationship with you.
Once in the club, you make your rounds with Jungkook by your side. Lots of new faces, and maybe a select few that were recognizable as a result of the photography competition.
“Hey Jungkook, heard you were in the photography program,” one of the judges for the past photography competition, Rowoon, smiles, “I know at the end of your photography program they’re going to request for an internship. Let me know if you need help connecting with a photographer.”
“That’d be awesome.” Jungkook smiles.
Jungkook’s appreciative for moments like these, easy conversations blending in with your life. You’ve been surrounded with good people. Well, good enough for you to want to rekindle and meet up every so once in a while.
He watches you from afar now, a mocktail in hand as he lets the ice melt and lessen the syrupy taste of the drink.
You smile into your cup as one of your classmates animate a pose of some sort — probably from a recent project or client. Regardless, he finds himself smiling too, eyes focused on your figure. It’s all tunnel vision, really, how everything around you blurs and this gooey feeling swirls and pools in the pit of his stomach.
He recognizes this, having experienced this similar breakthrough in the past with previous partners. While the hard impact of the realization came far less than this moment, his feelings were undeniable.
He loves you.
An awful realization to have when you guys are out in public and not in privacy, where he can bare his emotions to you freely. His palms sweat, heart accelerating at the welcomed epiphany and rush.
He has been patient and gentle in these last couple of months. That, he’ll give himself credit for. But all the self work he’s done is about to leave as he’s one mocktail sip away from walking over to you and declaring his feelings.
Not the right place nor time. Certainly worse when he can’t drink to distract himself.
“Mind if I join ya?”
Jungkook startles out his thoughts, craning his neck to the side to find Kim Taehyung smiling lazily at him. He simply gestures for the empty stool, all while trying to relocate you after the minor detractor.
Even with the heavy bass of the club music, Jungkook’s eyes still remain on your figure, making sure you’re safe and having fun — as you should always be.
Taehyung grunts in his descent onto the barstool, gaze following where Jungkook looks at.
“You all socialed out?” Jungkook mindlessly asks — a miracle he’s strung up a coherent sentence.
Taehyung scoffs at the lack of focus, but replies, “Gets a little tiring explaining my gigs and seeing them react the same way.”
This time, Jungkook stares back at the seated man, completely understanding his sentiment. He knows exactly what Taehyung has experienced being in the industry — their little common ground.
“You know,” Taehyung begins, “I still don’t get the whole thing with you and her.”
Lips pursed, he drums his fingers on the bar counter, “How so?”
“Friends, but not. Lovers, but not.” Taehyung tips his drink back. “What are you guys even waiting for?”
What was Jungkook waiting for?
“Just want to take our time.” He replies. “Not trying to rush things.”
“Kind of backwards, don’t you think?” He shrugs his shoulders before continuing, “Look man, I’ll be upfront. I’m still on the fence about you.”
“I know.” Jungkook’s aware he’s far from perfect, knowing his hesitancy in moving forward stems from his insecurities and his fears of hurting you in the process.
“She likes you a lot. And I trust my best friend. If things go sour, well … at least we’ll know how to pick up the pieces this time around.”
Taehyung waves down the bartender for a refill. “I give her a lot of shit for putting herself in a box, but all she does is try. So why don’t you guys try?”
Jungkook’s been so afraid of hurting. In turn, he’s robbing you both of the possibility for something so much more. He loves what he has with you, but was this enough?
You turn, also finding him, and smile.
It’s not enough. He wants more — he needs more.
Taehyung settles back as he watches the scene unfold in front of him with a smug smile.
Finally.
Jungkook’s on autopilot as he weaves through the crowd. The back of his neck grows sweaty, less from the stuffy venue and more from his nerves and this final act of trying to do the right thing for once. He wants to do right by you, and right now all he wants is to be near you.
He needs to be near you.
You seem to think the same too, placing your empty glass onto the edge of the bar top. There aren’t any remnants of green or cherries, only a sliver of yellow on the bottom he recognizes as his trademark drink.
His heart drums against his chest as you do a quick side hug with the classmate, so eager to get to him in the midst of the hazy, man-made smoke and crowded dance floor.
The path to you was damn near impossible to get to, packed like sardines and people unwilling to move. Though, you both will always find a way to each other. Head tilted, you motion Jungkook to the side of the dance floor. It’s dimly lit, some of the club’s strobing lights don’t touch. Light’s not needed because you’re forever drawn to each other.
“Hi.” You smile up at him, eyes slightly droopy as your hand finds his. “Sorry. Haven’t been able to hang out with you that much tonight.”
He shakes his head, placing your hand behind his neck. Your fingers search for the longer locks he sported in the winter months, but you’ve always preferred his shorter cut. The prickle of the undercut was something you’ve longed for all night long. His silver hooped earrings graze your exposed wrist, the cold metal offering a nice touch on your hot skin.
He shakes his head, “‘S okay, Pix.” You both sway, neither of you really know what song is playing. It all blurs to white noise when you’re with each other. “Did you catch up with everyone?”
“Mhm.” You hum, leaning in to press your face against his chest. There’s a slight drop to your shoulders signifying your exhaustion, but Jungkook reads your demeanor like the back of his hands.
With a hum, he murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”
“Everyone’s in production companies.” You sulk, frown felt on his strong front.
Your words hold a little bitterness, a hint of dejection at the idea you weren’t exactly doing what everyone was doing. But that’s what made you special. You’re doing what you want to do and you’ve stuck by it.
“You ever think about joining one?” He asks into your hair.
You lift your head from his chest, chin digging into his sternum. “It’s not for me, but sometimes, I feel like I’m missing out.”
Just like how he thinks he might miss out on something wonderful if he continues as things are, but a club where you’re having a reunion with old classmates isn’t the right time or place for a confession.
Jungkook nods. “Can do whatever you want. The world’s your oyster.”
He doesn’t need any of the strobing lights or a spotlight in the tiny nook you’ve both claimed with the way you smile at him. Not when you stare up at him like he’s the world, ready to be claimed by you. Before he does anything too impulsive, he leads you both closer to the center of the dance floor. Back turned to him, his hands rest on the dips of your hips. Chin tucked in the crook of your neck, he takes in your jasmine and cucumber scent, wondering if you’re just as addicted to his scent.
“Did you have your usual?” He mumbles into your ear.
You shake your head, shivering from his voice. “Midori sour’s not always on the menu.”
He hums in agreement, thinking back to the arrangements he made at the club he hosted his celebratory party at. Honestly, there was no major issue requesting the addition of the drink; the manager was happy to accommodate.
“What’d you have earlier?” His voice comes out low, rumbling against you.
You nearly whimper your answer as he circles his arms around your midsection, not wanting to lose any physical contact from you. “Highball.”
His grin stretches across his face, muscle memory as his mouth salivates for the drink. “Did you like it?”
You turn around now, and Jungkook does little to reposition his forehead on yours. This time, another type of restraint courses through his body as his eyes bounce between your hooded stare and pouty lips.
“Mm, I wanted to try what you liked. Not my thing,” you conclude. “Wasn’t sweet at all.”
Jungkook doesn’t need the additional sweetness in his drinks when he’s surrounded by sweetness in his life. Can do away with sugar because you’re here.
“What did you have tonight?” You ask back.
“Wild night with some sort of wild berry mocktail.” He teases.
“Lucky, I wish I had that.” Your eyes drop to his lips — he follows your line of vision as you look back up at him.
“Was nice.” He concedes, voice dropping an octave. “Better if it was a highball.”
The music’s loud, but nothing’s louder than the drumming in his ears — the voice in his head yelling at him to close the gap between you two. The same gap you both maintained in these last couple of months. It’s been working so well for you two, reworking your foundation and taking things slow all while hoping it would lead to your desired goal: each other.
Jungkook’s forehead remains on yours, lips parted slightly at your delayed blinks. And although the label had always blurred between the two of you, he had always been yours. Yours, when he entered the establishment with his hand on your hips, guiding you away from rowdy groups at the main point of entrance. Yours, when all you’ve done tonight was match his stares, wanting so badly to be in his company instead of folks you haven’t spoken to in years face to face.
All yours.
“Want a taste?” You ask, making no move to go to the bar. He stays rooted there too, knowing full well he’s not allowed a single drop of alcohol in his system. The entrancement lasts all but a second before a flicker of fear flashes across your features.
Deja vu.
Was this all a figment of your imagination and it could get ripped from you any moment? If you lean in like you did months ago, would you be punished by rejection again?
Your brows furrow, eyes pleading up at Jungkook to answer your unspoken questions.
And he reads you so easily — remembers you and knows your insecurities before you do sometimes.
He breathes you in, nose now nestled against your own with no intentions of ever leaving.
“Please?” Your warmth fans over to him, a soft plea worthy of ending wars Jungkook would only qualify as his own battles.
He thinks about that night at the club where you had left him, foolishly clutching onto the flimsy cone-shaped cups while the world spun with you nowhere in sight. Thinks about the prospect of you leaving again and how ruined he’d be without you.
Jungkook pleads with you too now, “Please don’t leave me.”
You shake your head. “I’m right here.”
He thinks he deserves a little bit of heaven. Funny, how he thinks the universe could grant him kisses from a million angels, but he’d only want a lifetime of yours. The last thing he sees are two slow blinks from your sparkly-glittered lids, pulling and signaling him into a soft landing: to home — he finally finds his way back home.
He cups your face, delicate in how he holds you because there’s nothing more he’d like to do than to handle you with all the care and tenderness in the world. He sighs into your lips, relieved to finally have you like this. Where you both meet in the middle now.
Highball, in the simplest terms, was bland whiskey. The taste of the drink was probably the furthest thing you can get to the sweetness of your typical midori sour. And yet, you still tried for him. He knows how much you try for him and you’ve done your best to accept him — the work and effort you put into adoring Jungkook never goes unnoticed.
He doesn’t taste the highball, none of the usual remnants of the drink he’s grown to like as he runs his tongue over your plump lips. Perhaps it’s also that he no longer searches for that familiar aftertaste; instead, welcoming something he’s longed for and missed these months. His tongue moves over your lips again, slow and deliberate to savor the sweetness.
Your mouth parts for him, a tentative push of his tongue and you’re reduced to putty. He trails one hand down your hip, pulling you flush against him.
It’s all muscle memory, how puzzle pieces fit just for you and Jungkook. He groans against your mouth, the low sound vibrates through your body, sending a shock through your body and heat building in your middle.
Your name is all but a rasp as Jungkook goes straight to your lips again after your small whine. He can’t get enough of you, the background noise and people blurring in his pursuit of you. You kiss him back. Months after months of waiting, slowly rebuilding, knowing exactly where the finish line is … and the kiss now was just one of your many monumental milestones with Jungkook.
He needs to pull away for air, mindful of your own state too despite his unwillingness to stray away. It’s everything he’d expect a kiss from you to be after all this time: sweet, with no hint of the drink he fancied.
Nose nestled to yours and brazen smiles exchanged, Jungkook does his best to regulate his breathing.
“You’d ever give highball another try, Pix?” He breathes, peppering tinier kisses on your lips, rendering it nearly impossible to properly respond.
“Yeah.” You reply in between kisses. “I’d try it again. It’s worth another chance.”
When he finally pulls away with much reluctance, his heart drums against his chest at your response — at your implication.
You wanted this with him.
“You’ll teach me how to properly drink it?” You look at him with the softest gaze.
He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Will drink it with you.”
No one was talking about the drink. Though, much like the drink, love and affection was always better shared and experienced together.
And it’s so much better savoring those moments with you.
You and Jungkook eventually leave the dance floor to socialize with your other classmates, catching Taehyung with a content smile as he peers down at your interlinked hands. Jungkook’s hand involuntarily tightens around yours and you look up, eyes holding a playful curiosity as to what he wants.
You mouth, ‘You tired?’
He shakes his head no, though, his droopy eyelids and slight sway to his body tells you otherwise. You’re also tired too, wanting nothing more than to be with your desired source of warmth.
You quickly make your rounds, bidding your farewells and blaming your age for not being able to stay longer. Thankfully, a couple of your other classmates left before you, so your attempt to leave didn’t look out of the blue. Your goodbye with Taehyung takes a little longer as he whispers something in your ear, eyes playful as you pull away and lightly smack his arm.
Jungkook smiles once you’re back by his side, the cold night air hitting you both outside the club. He offered to run to the car while you wait back, but you insisted on coming with him. “Ready for the walk, Miss Rock?”
With narrowed eyes, you huddle closer, pretty pout on your lips he so wants to kiss.
“You said I looked great.” You huff, beginning the long trek back to the car.
“The Rock looked great, and so do you, Pix.” He teases.
Three minutes into your walk, a random downpour starts out of nowhere.
Jungkook takes off his brown jacket, slinging it over both your bodies as you do your best to run from the rain. Shared incredulous giggles and glances with each other made the trip back even better. Unable to fully avoid the downpour, Jungkook opts to just cover you with his jacket. The theatrics continue once a car passes, wheels producing a splash over your bodies.
Unneeding of the jacket now, you lower the jacket around your shoulder, tugging Jungkook through the rain as you both near the car. He looks at you from behind, catching your stare back while urging him to move quicker.
But he’s in no rush.
He’s never been in a rush with you.
Steps coming to a halt, you look back again with a questioning expression. His hair’s matted on his forehead, eyes squinting from the rain water, but he can see you so clearly under the yellow of the streetlights.
He says your name, your steps stumble as you land in his embrace. Cold fingers run on your cheek before he admits, “I don’t think I can just be what we’ve been. I want this with you — I want to be with you.”
He doesn’t ask you if you want the same. Didn’t have the chance as his eyes widened the same moment your lips met his.
Rain beats down on your bodies, hard and punishing. The cold water seeping through your clothing is nothing compared to the heat searing from your bodies. Your fingers run through his hair from behind, urging him closer if it were possible. His hold on you tightens and you unconsciously arch into him, no longer caring how the rain water runs down your face.
Jungkook breaks apart from the kiss, “It’s always been you, P.” Warm breath on your lips as he utters words he's long realized and wanted to tell you, “I … I’m in love with you.”
It’s freeing. Not just his confession, but how the rain continues washing out everything around you both. The good, the bad. The aftermath of a storm allows for rebuilding — for flowers to blossom, for growth and to start anew.
He thinks about all the time spent together and apart — the happiness, trust, and fears … it all inevitably brings him back to you. And as the rain waters continue to fall, he finds himself free falling into your embrace — the easy love.
“I love you,” You profess, brows pulling together tears mixing in with the rain, “So much. You know that, yeah?”
He does. But even so, he still asks, “Please be with me.” He chews on the inside of his mouth, so fearful of rejection as though you could choose any other route. “Please?”
You nod, leaning in for a kiss that could only seal your answer to him. “I’m yours. Always been yours.”
A relieved chuckle stutters from his chest, holding you close. “Home?”
“Home.” You reply.
Jungkook’s home was closer in proximity, so it would only be natural to head over there to change out of your soaked clothes. Even with the seat warmers turned onto the highest setting and his jacket slung over your lap like it was in the beginning of the night, you shiver and shudder in your seat.
“Can use my shower too, P.” He pushes his wet bangs back and reasons, “Don’t want you catching a cold.”
“Mmkay,” Your teeth involuntarily chatters, hands tucked in between your thighs underneath his jacket to retain your heat.
His hand naturally finds yours. “We’ll be home soon, ‘kay?”
Back at his home, he gives you a spare t-shirt with some sweatpants, letting you know that he’ll shower at the guest bathroom while you use the master bedroom’s. It’s not your first time in his bedroom, having been there a couple times when he was busy and needed you to retrieve something for him in there. The citrus scent embraces you as you walk in, fingers tightening around his clothes. He’s fumbling around his dresser to get his own clothing, hair dried to a damp mess and coarse at the ends from the washed away hair products. His shirt drags over his large frame, seemingly heavier around the shoulder area from the rainwater.
Back still turned away, he cranes his neck to you and catches your curious stare. “Go on and use the shower, P.”
You nod, clothes feeling unbearingly tight whether it be from the rain or the suffocating dilemma of not wanting to leave Jungkook’s side.
In the shower, he’s still with you through the shampoo and body wash. You run your hands around your body, knowing this is your way of keeping him close. Will you need to go home after this? Does the mirage end here with the suds of soap pooling at your toes?
Does it end with his scent on your body?
All dried and in his clothes, you stare at the mirror, a small smile playing at your lips at the visual of your body drowned in his oversized t-shirt. You roll the bottom of the sweatpants and tug at the drawstrings to secure around your waist.
You peer into his bedroom. “Jungkook?” No response.
Walking out to the living space, you notice a tuft of hair on the large couch’s armrest. Two glasses of water — all full — just like your heart, rests on the coffee table. Peering over the couch, your lover lays there, eyes closed with a rhythmic breathing pattern nowhere close to being asleep.
You come around and seat yourself on the edge of the couch. An unsuspecting force pulls you down, followed by a small ‘oomph,’ you attempt to sit back up.
“Can we rest a little before I take you home?” He mumbles, breathing into your hair.
Your ear is pressed against his chest, his heart thumping way too fast for rest. Working up your courage, you snuggle into his warmth as you murmur, “It’s late. Don’t want you driving at this hour.” Before he could ask if you’d want him to fetch a cab, you follow up with, “If it’s okay … can I stay over tonight?”
The drumming in his chest speeds up, but his words come out assertive. “Of course, P.”
The guest room sits empty as Jungkook leads you back to his bedroom, a sleepy smile on his face as he catches your yawn and places the glass of water onto the nightstand closest to where you’ll sleep. He hooks his index fingers in the collar of his shirt and yanks it over his head, tossing the article of clothing on the ottoman near the foot of his bed.
You swallow, eyes raking over his toned body you’ve grown so familiar with. His tattoo lines look darker under the warm hues of his nightlight. Underneath his covers, your eyes fight to stay open, only allowing them to blink shut when he encircles his arms around you.
“Night, P.” He mumbles.
“Good night, Kook.”
Around 5 a.m. you wake up with the worst case of dry mouth, having already drank the glass of water in the middle of the night, and another time Jungkook refilled without your knowledge. You pout at the glass sitting pretty and empty on the nightstand.
There’s an unfamiliar weight on your midsection causing you to suck in a breath as you look down. Intricate patterns and faded colors greet you before you turn your head to meet their owner.
Jungkook’s on his front, pouty mouth parted and lashes kissing the top of his cheeks. His rhythmic light snores tell you he’s still in deep slumber if not for the sleep-lines on the side of his face where he buries himself further into his fluffy pillows.
There’s a stillness in waking up next to Jungkook like this — at the realization there’s no need to run or leave. He’s here within a distance you can comfortably reach.
You think back to last night, between the kisses and confessions, everything seemed like a dream. You’re tempted to reach over to brush away the strand of his bangs. Want to see if he’d stir awake and look at you as he did before you both fell asleep last night.
That’s the funny thing about love — can’t bear the selfishness and greed of your own desires. So instead, you do your best to uncurl from his lazy hold, already missing his warmth as you grab the rims of your glass to fetch some water.
You’ve only been over in the afternoon and evening, never knowing the brisk morning air. Jungkook’s room was warm, temperature maintained by the heat of your bodies, but in the open living space, you shiver a little from cold and the absence of a familiar body.
Glass refilled, you make your way back to Jungkook, but something pulls you to an abrupt stop.
You’ve only seen this view at night, always curious how differing the morning view would be. Orange peeks and greets you on the horizon, begging for your presence even when there is another star you rather be with.
Just a couple more minutes and the sun will rise — a view you’ve never seen from here. Lips nursing on your glass, you smile as you hear another pair of feet shuffle in your direction. Not subtle at all. He makes his presence known with a small yawn, standing behind you, he presses his chest against you from behind and wraps his arms around your abdomen.
“Whatcha doing up so early?” Voice laced with sleep.
“Wanted to get water,” you bring the glass up to his view, “sun’s about to rise now.” You nod at the window.
His body vibrates against yours at a particularly low chuckle. “‘S nice, isn’t it? Can see everything from here.”
You hum in agreement. You love the view, love his touch, love him. And because you love him, you give him the remainder of your water. Glass now empty again, he sets the cup on a small stand. The surrounding air stifles as a strong pair of arms wrap around you tighter, cluing in a shift in the easy morning conversation.
“P, I meant everything I said last night.” He says, afraid you hadn’t retained any recollection of last night’s event — as though all the magic last night was all but a trick and illusion.
There’s no illusion in your adoration for him, turning away from the sun, you realize you have everything in front of you worth orbiting for.
“I meant everything too.” You reply, feeling the sun warm your back, but even that source of warmth wasn’t enough incentive to have you turning away from Jungkook again. “I love you. Wanna be with you.”
You tip-toe, lips pressing delicately against his only spurs on his tiny moan as he meets you in the middle. His teeth nibble on your bottom lip, causing you to part them with a small gasp. He takes this moment to lick into your mouth, tongue running against yours to savor you. He could blame the morning wood on … well, the morning, and not your soft lips, but he’s wanted you like this for so long and now you’re finally his.
He angles your chin, doing his best to distract you from the bulge pressed against your stomach, to which you also push against. Grunting, he huffs into your mouth, “Pix, please.”
You hum a small ‘what?’
So dangerous of you to push something he’s been suppressing for months. Aching for your touch, but he’s respectful of the change in dynamics. He wants to be respectful now, but was there a need?
“I’m trying to be good.” He mumbles, kissing along your jaw and making his way down your neck. His teeth rake against the expanse of your skin, reveling in your shivers and the way your nails dig into his back.
“You are good.” You sigh prettily. “So good to me.”
And because of this, Jungkook wants to show you other ways he could be good to you. It’s what you deserve — nothing makes him happier than making you feel good. Back pressed against the glass panes, the initial cold morphs and changes with the sun and your combined body heat.
His hand snakes up your shirt, large palm halting at your stomach until you nod for him to move. You moan at the contact of his thumb moving over your hardening bud.
“Feels good, pretty?” He mouths against your neck.
You swallow and nod, “J-Jungkook, can people,” another moan slips as he sucks on a particularly sensitive juncture of your neck, “see us from here?”
Being on the thirty-fourth floor had its perks and advantages. He doesn’t have next door neighbors except for the floor above and below him, which works in his favor.
“No one can see us, P.” He shakes his head, “You want them to?”
He grips your chest a little harder, urging for an answer before he continues. Head lifted to your face, his hooded eyes draw you in.
“No,” you place a soft kiss on his jaw, “Want this just between us.”
He also can’t imagine having another person watch you both. Can’t imagine sharing an experience like this with someone other than you.
“Yeah, it’s just you and me.”
The hand on your hip runs up your front, cupping your cheek first before he slips a soft request while looking at your lips, “Open, please.”
Your mouth parts, and his hand drags over your cheek, his middle and ring finger probing and sliding over your wet muscle. His cock twitches in his sweats at the thought of possibly feeling your mouth again. Those thoughts break the moment you close around his digits, warm and wet around him. Your cheeks hollow without command as you eagerly suck on his fingers. You look at him with determined eyes, fighting to stay open but loses the battle before fluttering shut when his thumb runs over your hard nipple again.
“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises, “‘s that okay?”
You nod, unable to verbalize a response with his fingers in your mouth. Soon his wet fingers slip out of your mouth and he slips them past the waistband of your folded sweats.
“Oh god,” Your hips buck back from the sudden contact of his fingers, ass pushed against the glass. “P-please.” You beg, unsure of what exactly but Jungkook takes it as a request to move. His middle finger slots perfectly between your wet folds, circling around the bundle of nerves.
“Wanna touch you, too.” You plead, “Can I?”
He tips his forehead against yours, hips pushed against your hand. “Uh-huh, want you to touch me.”
Your hand slips into his sweats, making contact with his bare length. The angle of your bodies makes it difficult to tug or squeeze as you like, but he shudders just by the mere contact of your soft hand.
“P, don’t—” He moves back slightly to peer down at your hand working over his length. “Don’t tease.”
Lip tucked between his teeth, his own hand speeds up over your clit, wet sounds growing by the second. He hopes you do the same too, but you keep your lazy strokes, watching him with hooded eyes. “Not,” you pause, eyes closing when he nears you, pressing a dainty kiss, “teasing.”
“Tell me what you need.” You murmur against his lips.
“Faster,” He whines, “need you to go faster—fuck—” He groans when you comply, hand picking up the pace.
And be it from the patience and time endured after months of dreaming of being with you … or he was just that easy, he finishes in his sweats in under a minute. Your hand slowly jerks over his length, hand coated in his cum.
“Koo, did you cum?” You breathe, unsure from the sudden liquidy warmth. He moans a small yes, angling his head for your kisses on his neck, teeth dragging over his collarbone as a reward for his confirmation. Your hand glides over the head of his sensitive cock. “Made a mess all for me.”
He kisses you, deft fingers on your clit as he touches away the embarrassment of cumming before he’s gotten to properly take care of you. It’s no give or take situation, but he wants to give back to you.
He removes his hand and you nearly cry out at the loss of his touch. Your cum covered hand gets tugged from his pants at the same time. Doesn’t care you’re unconsciously wiping away your hand on your shirt — everything was going into the wash anyway, ridding any evidence of the sinful acts you’ll both willingly partake in.
How sinful were they if they were embarked by two people in love?
Fingers hooked on the waistband of your sweats, he drags them down your hips, leaving both your soaked underwear and pants pool at your ankles. His eye contact never wavers as he drops down on his knees, only breaking at the long shirt length covering your bare cunt. With a knowing glance, you hold the bottom of the shirt, while the other one falls on the side of his head for support as nudges your legs apart.
“So perfect,” he praises, eyes peering up at you, “All mine.” His fingers form a ‘v’ as he spreads your glistening folds, mouth watering at the sight of your twitching clit. He moves in, placing a kiss on the side of your pussy, just shy of your nub. The action has you furrowing your brows, mouth dropping open as you involuntarily push your hips forward.
You mewl, thighs closing when he finally slots his tongue over the self-made opening between his fingers. He licks, sucks, and kisses the tiny nub. And you stand there, taking everything he’s willing to give you. He loves watching you struggle maintaining eye contact, loves the shy smile you give him when you had a moment of realization of how loud you were in the early hours of his home, and loves the small tug from your fingers in his hair when he repeatedly presses his lips to your clit.
You were already so close before this, but now he has you tipping on the edge again. Jungkook’s eyes close, tongue lapping your cunt.
Your thighs shake, breath caught in your throat as he continues the motions. And even though he’s not looking at you, he knows you’re about to let go as you rock your hips into his face. Using one hand, his fingers dig into the back of your thigh as he brings one of them over his shoulder.
“Baby–” You rasp.
“Hm?” He answers, muffled against your core. The vibrations against your cunt have your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your lids slam shut from the sensation.
You whimper, stomach clenching at the first signal of your orgasm. Your fingers clutch pathetically at the end of the shirt, mindful of the other hand interlocked with his locks. But you’re bolder now, know what you like and need … and what you like is Jeon Jungkook moaning against your core, encouraging you to cum. What you need is to extend this feeling for as long as you can, so you push his head closer as you grind your spasming cunt to his face.
“Cumming,” you manage to get out, “Oh fuck, I’m cumming.”
Jungkook can’t answer, wishes he could; though, all his wishes are being fulfilled as he’s head deep between your legs. He pulls away after your hips press back against the glass, signaling your sensitive state. Hooded gaze fixed, he takes in the visual of your cheek pressed onto your shoulder — a habit he’s noticed every time you’ve cummed. Your eyes blink open slowly, blinded by the light coming in from the rising sun.
“I’m sorry, P.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all with his mischievous grin as he kisses your inner thigh — the one he has thrown over his shoulder. “You missed the sunrise.”
You croon, a small playful pout on your lips. “I did.” You release his hair, hand cupping his jaw. You moan in surprise when he latches onto your clit again, lazy sucks as he peers up at you.
He places one last kiss to your nub and suggests, “Should turn around then, take in the current view.” He leaves out the fact that you’ll have plenty of more chances to see the view.
He places your leg down. While wobbly at first, you plant your feet sturdy before complying with his request. He’s right — the city’s beautiful.
Jungkook also has the best view in the city too.
You look back at him from your shoulder, eyes catching his, “You’re not watching with me?”
“Perfect view here.” He scoots back a little, ignoring the discomfort and numbness in his knees. You brace against the glass, fist clenched tightly at the anticipation of what your lover wants to do. No one cares about the prospect of a stained glass as you hinge your hips out to him, the underside of your wet pussy entrances him.
He pushes your shirt up over the curves of your hips and the sight before him has his cock hardening in his sweats again. A creamy white sheen trickles down your slit, begging to be licked up before it dribbles onto the floor.
And he does. With a cock to his head, he slots his mouth over your leaky cunt.
You wail, cheek pressed against the glass as you fog up a small section with your warm puffs of air. His tongue laps over your clenched hole, pleased you haven’t pulled away from him. He rewards you with a small probe of his tongue and you surprise him again by pushing back, tongue gliding into your warm cavern with little resistance.
You both moan, caught in the euphoric moment of this new experience.
He reels his head back, spreading you wide to look at your gaping pussy — all his doing.
“Please,” you beg, greedy for his mouth. Without warning, he dives back in, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole with a new profound hunger. One of his hands comes from under and rubs at your clit. The new feeling has your legs shaking again, your hand coming around to place on top of his to ground yourself.
He pulls away, placing wet kisses alongside your thighs. “You liked that, Pix?”
“Yeah, I loved it.” You reply, looking back at him through your lashes.
“Good.” He chuckles, stomach warm from your confession, “Keep looking at the view though. Sun’s pretty today.”
The sun’s pretty every day, you think to yourself as you look at your source of light. But you turn away, obedient as you look at the rays the rest of the world relies on.
“Gonna do something new, ‘kay?” He says, strained as he places a small kiss on one of your cheeks. He lets his teeth graze your skin, fingers digging into the meat of your ass to gain your confirmation. “Tell me if you don’t like it.”
You nod, can’t think of anything you won’t like aside from being away from Jeon Jungkook, but you’re sure to vocalize any discomfort for whatever journey he’s about to embark with you.
“Open wider for me.” He husks. You comply, feet shuffling apart as you hinge lower.
You couldn’t predict what he wanted to try with you, certainly not anything remotely close to how he parts your ass and you feel his breath on your skin before he leans in.
You nearly cry out at the first lick over the tight ring of your asshole. There was an adjusting period, one that involved your breasts pressed hard against the window, mouth hanging open as Jungkook goes in for another lick.
It’s not unpleasant. New, like he mentioned.
“You taking in everything, P?” His finger slips over your cunt, long index finger teasing the entrance. He takes his time running his fingers between your wet folds, watching your bleary eyes struggle to stay open. It’s fine. You’ll have plenty more opportunities to see the view in the future — he’ll make sure of it.
You moan at the feeling of his finger probing the entrance of your pussy, hole clenched around nothing as he continues teasing you.
“Hm? Answer me, pretty.” His tongue teases around your taint. This time, you relax into it, even going as far as pushing back.
“Mhm,” you try, “‘s pretty.”
You have your head turned again, watching him the best you could, completely unfocused from the view beyond the massive curtain wall. A wrecked moan escapes the moment his long digit pushes into your sensitive cunt — just up to the first knuckle, nothing more. At the same moment, his tongue guides itself past the tight ring of your hole.
You don’t know what to focus on: his tongue fucking into your ass or his finger coated in your arousal as he has you plugged up on both holes simultaneously.
Jungkook’s always been an ass man, and he honors the title as he continuously dives his head between your cheeks. The finger inside your other hole stays in place, never pushing another inch until you whine and reach between your legs. Your fingers touch the top of his, pushing at them to sink deeper into your pussy.
He pushes his digit into you, the full length wrapped around your wet walls. “Do what you need to make this feel good.” He says. “Want you to feel good.”
A content sigh leaves your lips as you rub slow circles, pleasure building again in your stomach as each minute slips by. You’ve never been one to cum multiple times … unfortunately, you’re no better than a man. One and done type of girl, but the eagerness to cum again from this new experience has you motivated and greedy for more. Especially when the experience is with someone you love and care for.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum again.” You announce, pushing your ass back to his face as he continues fucking his tongue into your ass. He groans and nods, picking up the pace from behind with fervor at the mention of your orgasm.
His finger gradually speeds up, curling a little before he decides to add another finger in.
Oh.
“This okay?” He asks as he senses a change in your demeanor at the sudden intrusion.
You whimper, body stiff and rigid during the adjustment period. The stretch has you halting before you’re rubbing feverishly against your clit, babbling and begging for him to move faster.
Jungkook’s lucky on the thirty-fourth floor. So lucky no one’s able to hear the the sounds you make both from your mouth and wet cunt as he fucks his digits faster as requested. He curls his fingers and your legs start shaking, your hand no longer able to move as you take everything Jungkook gives from behind.
You gasp, his name falls from your lips as you let go. There’s definitely an imprint of your mouth and cheek on his glass window now, memoirs of the acts you both committed.
The wetness grows between your legs, both holes pulsating as you finally cum around him again. Jungkook groans, letting you ride out your orgasm as you need.
He removes both his fingers and tongue from your holes and parts your ass to marvel at the mess you’ve made. The puffy ring of your ass shines with his spit, while your pussy quivers from the aftermath of your strong orgasm. He thinks about how it would be if you were stuffed full of him right now, but he’s in no rush with you. Knows there’s no time constraint to loving you right this time around. Your shirt drops from the curve of your hips and down to your knees as you stand upright, turning and pressing your back to the glass again. Jungkook stands up, fingers already in his mouth to lick up any remnants of cum.
His arms wrap around your waist to hold you up, forehead touching yours as it’s meant to. Doesn’t go for a kiss no matter how much he wants to because he’s not sure of your aversion after where his mouth has been. But you don’t care, looping your arms over his neck and slotting your lips over his for a messy kiss, eventually reduced to small pecks.
“You okay, P?” He asks with round eyes. You nod and ask the same in a hushed whisper.
Why wouldn’t he be when he’s got all he’s ever wanted in his arms? He rubs over your back in a soothing motion, “More than okay, P.”
More kisses are shared, until Jungkook murmurs how he’s still tired and wants to go back to bed. You look at the clock and as tempted you are, you hum and shake your head. His eyes widen at your response, about to offer a quick retort, but you beat him to it.
“You said you had registration for the upcoming semester in a couple hours. Didn’t you say you needed to work on a schedule?”
He tips his head back, both grateful and upset at your memory after he mentioned it to you in passing last week.
Still, these things can be done while in the comforts of his bed and your company. Hand enclosed in his, he tugs you back to his bedroom, no longer omitting the same warmth when you left.
But perhaps, the warmth was anywhere you were with Jungkook.
Saturn takes twenty-nine years to complete its cycle. When you turned twenty-nine, you thought your Saturn was still out there, taking their sweet time with the journey back home.
“Pixie?”
“Coming!” You call out, finishing the last touch of your dusty-pink blush. Smoothing out your sage-green dress, you do a small once-over in your mirror before properly greeting your boyfriend.
Your Saturn’s returned, watching you embark on your new adventure, cheering you on through your wins and losses. Jungkook smiles from the doorway, leather dress shoes placed neatly on the side. His hair is styled as he would for all the wedding events he’s gone to with you, but this was a new suit. Usually in black, the light grey suit brings out his dark features even more — boyish charms emulated with his suit jacket off and hooked on his fingers over a shoulder. The brooches on his vest glimmer on the side, adding a nice finishing touch to his wedding guest look for the evening.
He shines either way when his orbs land on your features, taking in your soft curls and dress you’ve chosen.
“Pretty.” He’s kind enough to not kiss you, seeing you’ve just freshly applied your lipstick, but you’ve never been opposed to reapplying. You tip-toe to plant a soft kiss, not enough to transfer any product, but enough to tempt him for further damage.
“You look very handsome.” You say, hands automatically coming up to fix the angle of his tie. Spring’s weather is ever unpredictable and today’s one of the more warmer days of the week, but the temperatures rise in the small nook of your home as he stares at you.
To avoid any potential deterrence, you move behind him to get to your shoe rack. He presses his back against the wall opposite to you, watching as you crouch down to pick out a strappy nude heel.
“What if we skipped the wedding, Pix?”
You pout, blowing at the random strands of hair in your peripheral. “Your friend would be disappointed. Plus, we both got all done up. Would be a waste if we didn’t go.”
“It’s not a waste,” he replies, “can just have a night in.”
“Also would give me an excuse to get out of these dress pants.” He adds with a scowl.
You lean away, doing a double take on the slacks he has on. You’ve always fancied a guy in dress pants and Jungkook was no exception. Loves how his thighs fill up the spaces and how his ass looks in them.
“Couple hours and we can have a night in.” You reassure with a soft smile. “I’ve got a watermelon in the fridge waiting for us.”
The wedding was standard, especially with it belonging to someone you don’t know. Technically most, if not all, weddings you’ve gone to have belonged to strangers. But there was something special about this wedding — it’s the first time you attended a wedding with Jungkook where you aren’t working.
Weddings have always felt magical; the usual string of fairy lights and flower arrangements appear even more enchanting tonight. And you realized, the enchantment started months ago at Yoongi and Hoseok’s union.
During cocktail hour, he made sure to get all your favorite finger foods without request. When the ring bearer and flower girl comes into view during the ceremony, he’s quick to move higher on his seat, letting you peer past him to get a better look at the little ones. And when he holds your waist during the reception’s dance, you know weddings are magical because the moment’s shared with him.
“This was nice. Thanks for having me as your plus-one.” You sigh in content, cheek rested on his chest as you both slow dance to When a Man Loves a Woman.
He snorts, lighthearted and warm. “I’m glad you enjoyed.” Meant as a sarcastic remark, he also agrees this evening was a lot nicer than he had anticipated in the month leading up to this day.
“I really love weddings.” You mumble to yourself.
He loves weddings with you. Jungkook presses his cheek on the top of your head, “I know.”
You and Jungkook stay like this for a while through a couple slow songs until the DJ changes up the genre of the music, signaling older couples to evacuate the dance floors for the younger crowd to reminisce on an era where their knees existed for the thrill of it all.
Your bodies move in tandem: his, warming your back, and your bottom pushed against his groin with your preferred pressure, knowing you’d never go overboard at a wedding but just enough for him to have him let out a shy chuckle.
His breath fans over the shell of your ear, “I really hate these dress pants, P.”
You turn your head to him, sultry expression matching his hooded lids. “Why’s that?”
“Shows everything.” He laughs through his nose, “Can’t leave here any time soon now.”
You ease up a little, facing him again while your fingers slide over the brooches resting on the left side of his chest — where his heart resides. He’d argue his heart is in his arms staring up at him.
“I’ve always loved you in dress pants.” You confess. “‘Cause that’s when we’re at weddings together.”
Considering how he leans down, pressing a small kiss to your lips where you reciprocate with another lingering kiss, maybe being in dress pants isn’t that bad.
“Have we met our quota yet, Pix?” He nudges his nose against yours.
For someone who loves weddings, you’re eager to go home, too. You want nothing more than to just spend time with Jungkook in the comforts of your home.
“Quota met.”
Sheltered by the indoor venue, you didn’t realize how humid it got outside in the time spent at the wedding. Your apartment was practically a sauna by the time you and Jungkook arrived back at your place. Opening up your windows, you have a fan running in the background to air out the space.
“Sorry,” You say sheepishly while cutting into the watermelon. Your eyes rake over Jungkook where he unbuttons his grey vest and rolls up his sleeves to reveal his tattooed arm.
He shakes his head, taking two spoons from your drawers, “It’ll cool down.”
Will it?
Air heavy with both the atmospheric moisture and tension brewing between you and Jungkook all evening, you’re not so sure if the temperatures will drop any time soon. The watermelon center caves as you both dig with the metal spoons. You favored the center; whereas, Jungkook aimed closer to the watermelon rind.
He peers over at you where you stand. Hair now put up by a claw clip, he counts the baby hairs sticking onto the back of your neck, momentarily forgetting to dig into the watermelon when it’s his turn.
“Why do you only pick at the sides?” Your brows twitch, digging into the middle again and turning to him with a center piece.
He shrugs, opening his mouth on cue for you to stick your spoon into his mouth. Sure, the middle pieces were sweet, but he thinks they might be sweeter coming from you. He chews and swallows, tilting his head a little to meet your equally sticky lips.
“Sweet either way, Pix.” He wonders if the salty moisture on your skin would pair well with the sweet watermelon.
Well, one way to find out.
No longer following a script, Jungkook moves on his own accord — loving and falling freely as he likes knowing you’ll be there to catch him. He shifts his body, head dipped in the crook of your neck as he licks a thick stripe over your neck. You gasp, spoon dropping onto the counter as your hands fly to grab onto his forearms for support.
He’s right; you do bring out more sweetness.
The half eaten watermelon sits on your counter, long forgotten in the pursuit of Jungkook’s body pressed to yours. His lips slot perfectly on you, a relieved sigh escapes as your bodies move as it’s desired all evening.
He trails kisses down the column of your throat, marking a pathway on your collarbone. Fingers in his hair, your grip on him tightens as you shyly ask, “Bed?”
Knees digging onto your bed, you sit up taller to kiss your still-standing boyfriend. He’s busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt while you race to unbuckle his belt — a race no one formally declared, but it was an unspoken need. And you both needed each other … badly.
You beat him, of course. The black Calvin Klein lettering on the banding greets you first as the front opening flaps of his pants fall to the side. He whimpers as you run your hand over his bulge.
“Can I …” Your sentence trails off as you kiss along his exposed neck.
He nods unsure of what you exactly want, but the godforsaken dress pants drop and pool at his ankles without a second thought. You kiss your way down his torso, paying extra attention to his chest. With a determined look, you stick your tongue out on his hard nipple for a tentative lick to glean at his response.
Oh, it’s good — so, so, so good.
He shivers, hand hitting your claw clip as it flies to the back of your neck to hold you in place. Your teeth grazes over the hardened bud, a sliver of pained pleasure courses through as you bite down with a gentle force. He hisses, mouth dropping open to bite back his moans. You remedy the pain with your tongue, silently apologizing without actually feeling sorry.
You slither lower on all fours as you take his hard cock out of its confinements. Round eyes look up at him for permission to proceed.
There’s a slight hesitance in your actions as the last time you wanted to give him a blowjob, he made it a goal to stay protected for both your sakes. He’s always for safe sex, but he knows he’s clean and wants to feel your bare lips around him as long as you’ll allow it. You seem to share the same sentiment as you tilt your head up, eyes burning with want and ownership of his bare skin.
Still, you ask, “Do we need a condom for this?” The thin straps of your pretty evening gown cascades loosely on your shoulders.
“No, but only if you want …” Jungkook pants, a harsh exhale when you give him a gentle squeeze. The small, pleased sound you make, paired with another harder tug confirms your answer.
He releases your hair from the clip, watching it cascade down your shoulders. Bunching your hair in a messy ponytail, he uses it as an anchor as you tug on his shaft.
“Spit on it.” He pleads, groaning when you comply. Your saliva lands on the tip, dripping over the small bead of precum on his slit. So messy how your thumb glides over his slit, mixing the fluids together. Even messier when you place a kiss on his tip, mixed fluids tainting your pretty lips. His stomach contracts, the dips and ridges of his abs are even more defined as a result.
“Missed this with you, Pix.” He melts. It’s even better than how he imagined over the course of time spent with and without you.
“I missed you, too.” You reply, tongue darting out and wetting your lips before moving in for a small lick over the head of his cock. “I wanna take care of you.” You mumble as you press messy kisses on the underside of his cock. “Is that okay?”
His stomach warms at your sentiment, knowing it’ll never be one-sided as he’ll always do the same for you. He nods, giving you the go ahead to do as you like. The grip on your hair increases and the hand cupped underneath your chin props you upright to take him fully.
He wonders how a place like heaven could ever beat this feeling with you.
Your eyes never stray from his, watching him through your lashes and how he struggles to maintain eye contact with you. It’s only when his cock begins hitting the back of your throat, your lids flutter shut. You gag from the action, pushing past the discomfort each time to hear more of his grunts and praises. Your skin prickles each time his thumb runs across your skin to soothe your aching jaw.
“Fuck, Pix, if we keep going like — god,” he hisses, “I’m not gonna last long.” He warns.
“Mmhp,” You try to answer even with your mouth fully stuffed. He pulls back and you whine, robbed at the opportunity of having him release all over your tongue.
“Please,” you breathe, hoarse and rough, “wanna taste you.”
Your mouth falls open again. Instead of sliding in again, Jungkook jerks over his length, fast as he needs with the visual of you on your knees so readily to be ruined.
“Baby–I, I’m gonna cum. Fuck,” He tilts his head up to the ceiling.
And when he finally cums, he does so with your name and a string of praises. The first rope of cum lands on the corner of your mouth. Without another thought, you enclose your lips around his tip. His strangled noises spurs you on in your mission to suck and milk him dry.
When he finally slips out of your mouth, the hand underneath your chin guides you up and your knees walk you close to his standing body again. You still haven’t swallowed, unsure what you want to do with the fluid resting on your tongue.
Reading your expression clearly, Jungkook bites down a smile. “You don’t have to swallow, P.” He chuckles, placing a quick peck to your tightly shut mouth, “Want me to get the waste bin?”
He runs his thumb on the corner of your mouth, catching the stray droplet before wrapping his lips around his digit. Honestly, he doesn’t care for the taste and gets your hesitancy, but you hold his gaze and shake your head no, pressing your lips to his. He groans and opens his mouth for you to slip your cum-coated tongue in.
You whimper at his large hands running up and down your backside, ultimately landing on the bottom of your swelled ass. Absolute sin and filth personified when you both exchange and swallow your mixed fluids.
Your body aches differently for Jungkook these days. Can’t believe he’s in front of you now in your home, surrounded by everything you love.
And you love him.
“I love you.” He says, as though all your internal thoughts and feelings are tethered to him. It’s no secret, and unworthy of hiding.
You kiss him again, pulling him down with you. He giggles and shrugs off the rest of his clothing as he hovers over you with starry eyes.
Cupping his jaw, you reply, “I love you. Want this with you.”
The relationship. The love. The experience.
His heart — it’s all yours.
The long dimples appear again, disappearing from view once he lowers his head to kiss your neck all while fumbling on the thin straps of your dress and tugging it to expose your bare breasts.
He's said this before and thinks there’s no greater truth than this, “You’re perfect.” Leaning down, he places a wet kiss on your sternum, mouthing, “so beautiful.”
You keen into his touch, back arching when he takes one nipple in his mouth. He does this for a few minutes, teasing your nipples and rotating between them with equal amounts of love and attention.
Again, the ache runs through your entire body, gathering right at your core when his teeth bites down on your sensitive nipple. Your hand detaches from his hair and makes its descent down to his crotch.
He’s only half-hard, still sensitive from his first orgasm.
Sensing your impatience, he chuckles against your skin. “Gimme some time, P.” Eyes closing as you squeeze around his length again.
You pout, but nod nonetheless, letting go of his shaft because the last thing you want is to do the opposite of keeping him hard.
“But,” he muses, “you could help me.”
And this is how you end up as equally naked as Jungkook on your bed. You’re supported by your numerous pillows as you lay there, watching his eyes jump between your face and closed legs.
His hands are on your knees, soft as he pries them apart to reveal your soaked core.
You instinctively move to cover your mound, suddenly feeling shy even though Jungkook has seen you bare from below multiple times. His bigger hand covers yours, pressing against it just enough for you to feel the relief it brings.
“‘S just me, pretty.” He says, eyes never leaving yours. His words and stare makes you sling your free arm over your eyes, blocking the visual of him: kiss-swollen lips, locks no longer in its styled state, red flush on his chest — a stark difference from the dark, solid ink on one of his arms … you can’t bear to look at him in this state.
Can’t bear him looking at you either.
“I know,” you reply, “I’m just … embarrassed.”
You can’t see him, but you’re sure he’s giving you one of those smiles. One that asks ‘What for? You’re amazing.’
You think about the sheer amount of people who have watched Jungkook — yourself included — and wonder how he isn’t shy. And because of that, you feel yourself growing braver at the thought of giving Jungkook something to watch and appreciate.
Still, you keep your forearm over your eyes, but the other hand covering your pussy nudges Jungkook’s warm hand away. You move up a little. All practiced precision in how your middle finger dips between your slit, rubbing slow circles on your swollen clit.
“Oh, fuck.” He lets out a breathy laugh. Your senses are heightened in this self-visually impaired state; his swallow is heard in the distance.
You think about whether he’s just looking at your hand on your pussy or if he’s watching your covered face — if his eyelids are hooded … if the visual of you playing with yourself is ‘helping’ him. Perhaps it’s these thoughts that also make you grow wetter in between your legs, the wet sounds reach your ears through your staggered breaths.
You feel his lips press on the top of your knee, his breathing also coming out haggard.
“Is this enough?” You whimper, wanting him to take rein of your pleasure.
“A little longer, please?” He begs. “For me?”
He moans at your compliance, noting the speed change in your fingers. The bed shifts too, he nears your body again and you feel his warm breath fanning over your fingers. Suddenly, a dribble of wetness slides on top of your digits and trickles down to the entrance of your pussy, mixing with the rest of your arousal.
The feeling has you removing your arm, finally looking down where he’s at in between your legs. A small playful smile on his lips as he sits back up in his kneeled position. He's more than ready — just wants to see more of you.
You take note of his hard cock in his hand, a slow stroke up before he thumbs at the slit like he likes to. A twinge of pleasure hits your core again and you’re forced to rub harder circles to relieve yourself of the heavy ache building up at the sight. He laughs again, a mixture of disbelief and horniness as the pace on his cock speeds up too.
“So much better seeing this in person.” His eyes involuntarily shut as he tilts his head to the side.
Huh?
The movement of your hand pauses and so does he with widened eyes. He clears his throat, trying to find the words before you ask, “W-what’s that supposed to mean?”
A sheepish smile stretches across his face and instead of explaining right away, he leans over your body now. Nose against yours, he places a tiny kiss on the corner of your mouth.
“Promise you won’t get mad?” He asks, his hand moves yours away from your pussy and slots his cock in between your soaked folds. Meant as a distraction or to ease your worries for his next words, he finds himself breathing heavier at the feel of your bare cunt with his shaft. The head of his cock slips over with ease onto your swollen clit, twitching as he moves his cock side to side now.
“I–fuck–Pix, you’re so wet.” He drops his head to your neck.
You nod, almost distracted as well, but you bring his head back to your eye level. He swallows nervously, wrist slowing the movement with his cock. Jungkook should’ve rephrased his question to ‘promise you won’t get embarrassed,’ because shortly after he slyly recounts the details of Your Video™ popping up in your living room, you lay there surrounded in the flames of humiliation.
“So embarrassing.” You mumble, unable to meet his eyes.
Jungkook giggles, kissing your cheek, “Hey, I liked it a lot.”
You turn your head, nose touching his now, “Did you?”
“Uh-huh, more than you’ll ever know.” His hips shift, resuming the grind on your cunt again. “But I like this more.”
His movements get you worked up again, forgetting about your mortification just moments ago. You whine, whimper, and mew into his shoulder; the ache comes and goes — reminding you need more than just this.
“Jungkook,” You gasp at the taps of his cock against your folds.
“Hm?” Eyes hooded, he watches you through his lashes, mouth dropped open when your hands run down his torso.
“Need you.” You plead, hip angled up so you can press harder against him.
“I know, I know, pretty. Just–” He shuts his eyes, “I gotta get you nice and ready for me.”
He senses your hesitancy again and he stops to stare down at you.
“I-I’ve had sex already,” You say, teeth worrying on the bottom lip and debating if you should say your next words. “With, um, Mingyu. So, we don’t have to prep.” While both unnecessary to tell him and unreasonable to feel this way, guilt courses through your body at the confession.
“Doesn’t matter to me if you’ve had sex.” Jungkook says, “I always want you to feel good and comfortable.” He kisses you, soft just like the fingers he trails at your entrance gathering your arousal.
You swallow, “Are you upset it happened with someone else?”
He blinks, head tilting in confusion, “Not something for me to get upset over, P.” Studying your face, his brows eventually relax as he asks you, “Are you upset?”
You shrug, looking to the side. “It was … whatever.” That’s all you’re willing to say about the experience and you’re sure Jungkook doesn’t want to hear about another man while he’s just about to get intimate with you. At this point, maybe he’d opt out to stopping in general, but he sighs a small hey to gain your attention.
“The experience will always be yours.” He kisses your forehead. “Nobody can take anything from you.”
You nod, eyes closing at the feel of his finger at your entrance. He keeps his lips at your forehead, feeling it furrow as he sinks one finger into your pussy. It’s a slow and leisure pump, easy to have you forgetting about the prior conversation and putting the focus back on him. Penetration has never been your thing; technically, it’s still not. But there’s some relief as Jungkook curls and massages his finger against your walls, stretching you out as he intended to. He refuses to take his eyes off yours, especially when he decides to add in another finger.
“That’s it, baby. Taking it so well.” He praises, voice cracking at the end of the sentence.
“You make me feel so good.” You sigh, eyes closing as he speeds his fingers inside you. “Always feel so safe with you.”
He curses, mentally prepared to hear your choked whine when he removes his fingers from your sopping hole. He says your name sternly, followed by a thick swallow. You hum in response, hips mindlessly chasing after any part of his body for friction. He slots his hard shaft against your wet folds again, giving you both some form of pleasure in the interim. He looks down, moaning at the sight of his cock coated with your arousal.
“Need you inside me.” Your hands hold his waist in place to stop him from grinding against your clit, head of his cock positioned at your entrance. You bubble with anticipation, wondering how he’d feel inside you.
And as much as he’d like nothing more than to finally sink inside, a small part of his lovesick brain still holds some form of logic and manages to utter, “Birth control?”
You blink, a slight falter in your response as you shake your head shamefully. There wasn’t a medical necessity for you to be on birth control before and you didn’t think far enough when it came to intimacy with Jungkook.
He chuckles, “That’s okay, P. I just wanted to check.” He hops off the bed and fishes for his wallet. Another ten seconds go before he drops his wallet onto the ground with a triumphed smile and brings up the small squared package between his fingers. The smile drops a little at the sight of your tiny pout.
Beating him to his question, you remark, “I wanted to feel you …”
He exhales hard through his nose. Keeping the condom in between his fingers, he makes his way back to you on your bed. You both seem to fall back into position again.
“Not sure if either of us are ready for kids, P.” The thought of having kids is scary, but weirdly … he finds the fear lessening at the thought of it with you. Seen how you reacted and smiled around children — he wonders if his future kids would have your smile. Either way, too early for these thoughts.
“Okay, okay,” You let his words simmer a little and he suddenly wants to do away with the little package in his hands when you look up at him. “You’re right.”
He’s right, knows he is when you blink away those irrational thoughts. The same thoughts get pushed to the side when the foil packaging tears and a sweet scent fills your nostrils. This time, hints of rich chocolate and confectioned goodness. You relax back onto your mattress, watching as he positions himself between your legs.
“Do you only have flavored condoms?” You ask, impish smile lifting the awkward conversation from before.
He grins, “Someone gifted a five hundred flavored pack for my birthday last year.” Hint: it was Hoseok. “So … we’re stuck with this for now. Do you hate it? I could stop using them–”
You shake your head and his eyes soften at your answer. There’s relief in knowing it’ll always remain sweet between you and Jungkook.
“I wanna feel you, too.” He admits as he lines himself at your entrance. He doesn’t push in just yet, watching how your hole clenches around nothing … for now. “We’ll figure something out.”
The defaulted option is to simply have you go on birth control, but that’s something to discuss and for you to decide. If need be, he isn’t too opposed to a vasectomy. You both have all the time in the world to discuss.
“Okay,” you stutter as he begins pushing the head of his covered cock in. That’s all he does for now, opting to drop onto his forearms to kiss you, praise you — love on you. You do little to hide the sting, face contorting before you let out a couple shallow breaths.
“Too much?” He asks, hips stalling and fingers brushing away your hair.
You shake your head, “Hurts a little, but,” you lift your hips a little, legs parting to accommodate Jungkook's body. “Wanna keep going.”
He doesn’t move.
Tattooed arm dropped in between your bodies, he rubs practiced circles on your clit. You sigh in content, wiggling your hips to push more of him into you. Eyes fluttering shut, similar to how your pussy flutters and gushes around his length after every little push inside as a reward for taking more of him. He shudders and grunts deeply, mentally counting backwards from a hundred to keep himself distracted by how snug your walls feel around him.
You moan, soft and saccharine at the stretch of his full length inside you.
“You feel so good.” He husks into the shell of your ear. “Feel that, Pix?”
“Yeah …” You keen, unable to verbalize a proper response.
“You gotta tell me how you feel, ‘kay?” He lifts his head up and connects his forehead on yours, but his heavy eyes observe how your lower halves connect.
“M-mhm,” You reply, eyes shutting at the fullness below. “Can we stay like this for a bit? I-It’s … it’s a lot.”
He nods. A part of him is thankful for this pause, allowing his mind to think of other things in the meantime so this experience can be better for you. The other part is worried you’re uncomfortable. He wants to make this good for you — wants you to feel good, so it doesn’t matter how long he needs to stay still inside you. Sex could end right now and he’d be okay with it.
“Kiss me, please?” Your request comes out small, but he feels the harsh drumming of your heart against his chest. Your hands are bunched up on his nape, not relaxed how they usually are when you’re with him.
What else could he do but comply with your wishes?
Kissing’s good — the belief he’ll die on a hill for. Kissing’s even better with you; he loves your lips, the way you lick the seam of his lips, how you sound when you’re being kissed as you deserve. Could stay like this forever with you. The heavy making out goes on for another two minutes, until he unconsciously bucks his hips which forces you to detach from his lips in a loud gasp.
He immediately searches for your face, eyes swelling with concern. “Sorry, I–”
You shake your head, thighs clamping around to hold him still before he pulls out. “‘s okay,” you reassure, “That felt good. Just, go slow.”
The pace he sets out is controlled — slow, as requested. And god, is it good. Your bed creaks with every movement, but the sounds are overshadowed by your shared breathy moans and praises only heard between each other. His fingers move swiftly over your pussy, so love drunk with your body, he feels his balls tightening — a sign of his forthcoming orgasm.
Call it selfish or greedy, he doesn’t want it to end, pulling out at the last second to delay his orgasm. Typically so well-versed in your body cues of an impending orgasm, his own dilemma clouded his judgment when you let out an involuntary frustrated cry at the loss of contact.
Your chest stutters, stomach clenching from your heavy breaths. And although you should question why he did that, you can’t think when he guides his cock into your warm cunt once more.
“You were gonna make me cum again, pretty.” He lets out a breathy laugh, hips resuming its pace.
You whine, “Was gonna cum, too.” You look down where he fucks his thick length into you. He makes up for the accidental edging by rocking his hips faster into you, fingers once again finding home on your clit forces a high pitched squeal from your kiss-swollen lips.
“Yeah? I’m sorry.” He truly is. Your pleasure’s always his top priority — you’re his priority.
“You deserve to cum.” His fingers flatten on your mound, and the wet squelching sounds increase with the fastened movements. “Give it to me, pretty.”
So sensitive and lost in the pleasure, you gasp and arch your body into his, eyes slamming shut at the onset waves of pleasure building below.
“Jung–” Couldn’t finish your sentence before you’re squeezing tightly around him. He doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, but he stills himself in you, giving you a couple hard pumps while you ride out your sudden orgasm.
He doesn’t think he ever wants to forget this feeling.
Finally letting off your clit and pushing himself up again, Jungkook marvels at the thin sheen of sweat in between your chest and the white ring of cum coated at the base of his cock where the condom doesn’t fully reach.
“Please, need you to cum inside me.” You beg.
He can’t, not with the condom on, but the sentiment makes him act like he doesn’t have one on. Parting your thighs wider, he thrusts in slowly, mindful of your oversensitivity. The ring of cum builds and thickens at the base, transferring some of your arousal over his pubic bone in a messy haze. Alas, the visual combination of your chest moving in tandem with his thrusts, your scrunched brows, and hand on his stomach was enough for him to release once more.
Though, the final blow came from your soft declarations of love while you tell him how good he makes you feel.
“Baby,” He manages, hands dropping your thighs, his front also comes down onto your chest as he lazily pumps inside of you with his cum-filled condom. The pleasure continues in the form of your fingers raking up and down his back, drawing shapes and patterns of love.
You know things will always remain sweet between you and Jungkook — like the giggles, doting questions, and soothing hands as he brings you to the shower. It’s not the hot water you feel on your skin, but Jungkook’s tender kisses and embrace forever etched on your body.
“P, sit still, won’t you?” Jungkook stands behind the tripod, angling the camera.
“You ever consider modeling? You’re a natural.” You say as you sift through the album on the tablet. You’re doing everything to avoid Jungkook’s latest assignment in class. Sure, it’ll be a good headshot update for your business card and website, but you weren’t keen on having your picture taken. It was always better behind the camera.
He rolls his eyes, gentle smile on his lips as he walks over. “Flattery won’t get you out of helping me. You promised you’d be my model for this semester.”
“Camera shy.” You pout. “You know that.”
“I know.” Jungkook chuckles. “I’ll teach you.” Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your lips.
The thing with teaching is that he inadvertently learns as well. Knows it’s also the same for you too. Skills refined, new ideologies unlocked, and discoveries waiting to be explored. He no longer follows a script anymore — no longer feels like he’s boxed in … life is forever limitless as long as he makes it to be.
A shutter goes off from behind capturing the two of you in the frame.
fin.
ending a/n: beta’d by @takeitawaykenny who sat thru my ridiculousness but also entertained it. prologue wouldn’t have existed without her, yall … she rly was brain behind rkivedshots' beginnings on god love u bookie ;__; and @lovieku who’s been nothing but supportive and rode thru my (many) moments of doubt. she was the angel i needed on my shoulder during the makings of my first series and helped shape so much of itf!! couldn't have done this without your guys unwavering love and support!! oceans of gratitude to my two champions 😭🫂
🧚🏻♀️࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ
alas, thank YOU all for joining me on this fun ride. i hope you guys got something out of this whether it be a chuckle, life lesson, or soiled panties, i’m lucky yall stuck with me. to my lovelies who have been here since the beginning and cuties we picked up along the way: i appreciate your trust, patience, and overall enthusiasm for this series — you’re my dream!! i told yall i’d guide us to my desired ending with so much love and care. ain’t no way this couple wasn’t gonna be end game … i just had to make the journey difficult. oop. anyway call me #aftercarequeen 💅
with that said … epilogue? send your thanks to lovieku for convincing me bahaha it won’t come any time soon cuz i have other things i wanna work on, but do not fear … i have something planned!
in the meantime, feel free to send in your reaccs/thoughts for our lovely itf!couple. i’m here for ya just as you’ve been here with me xoxo ♡
Tags: Childhood bestfriends to lovers| Non Idol×fem!reader| Fluff| little hurt/comfort| Post Military Seokjin| Little slow burn| MDNI|| Smut in part 2|
WC: 10.3k in part 1
A/n: This was written in the memory of Military Jin plus my absolute love for bsf to lovers au. It took me quite a long time to long time to write half of it because I got extremely busy with a wedding but I promise the next part will be put up sooner. I hope you don't hate me for the WC and enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. Also special mentions of "kiss me" by sixpence that kept me motivated.
Summary: After 18 months of military service, Jin, your childhood best friend has returned and so has much more..
[1:37 pm]
Seokjin: Sergeant Kim Seokjin officially off duty
You smiled reading the message and instantly replied back.
[1:37 pm]
You: Welcome back to civilian life, the inflation sucks.
[1:38 pm]
Seokjin: Not more than being with sweaty men all day.
You: Ugh, you’re right. Fine, you win!
Seokjin: Why do you even try? You have one cardinal rule to know: Kim SeokJin never loses.
You could hear the laughter in his text.
[1:40 pm]
You: Whatever.
You: When are we meeting?
[1:42 pm]
Seokjin: Got some stuff tomorrow, how about we catch it up at my parents place tonight? I’m headed there right now.
[1:44 pm]
You: 👍
You: I’ll see you after work.
For as long as you’ve lived, you’ve known Jin.
If you look back at your life, there has been one gravitational constant in your life, one that you’ve always felt, one that you have always gravitated to and that’s him. He’s always been there, as an anchor, as your best friend, as your family. You can’t even remember a single phase of your life when he wasn’t present even if you guys were physically at separate locations except his military service.
As a faithful Korean man and absolutely no other option, he enlisted almost 18 months ago, a time where you were not only physically separate but your interaction was limited to occasional calls every once in a while or a few texts in a month. It never affected you as much because you knew your bond with Jin was much stronger than any distance to break but it still made you feel empty during moments that you’d ordinarily share with Jin. Like when you’d walk to the train station, or while you drove past his parents house, or every time you looked at chocolate milk, you couldn’t help but feel a certain emptiness of not having Jin with you then but all of it was over now, he was finally free and you were excited to see your best friend you haven’t met in 18 months.
“Mr. Kim, my favourite man.” You excitedly greet Jin’s father as you walk into their home, side hugging him.
“If it isn’t my favourite daughter,” he laughed, hugging you back right away.
You and Jin’s family have a bond that transcends beyond the two of you. Mr. Kim was like your fathers brother. They had met in college and had been inseparable ever since which is why you practically grew up together. Saturday nights were always spent at Kim house while Wednesday evenings at yours.
“If you both are done, shall we place dinner?” His mom interjects. You and Mr. Kim share a look of defeat before you are forced to walk into the dining area.
“When are your parents arriving?” Mrs. Kim asked.
“They’ll be here any minute,” You ask after a pause, “Jin is in his room?”
Mr. Kim nodded, “Go, get him.”
You nodded, walking up the stairs and opening the door to his room without knocking, assuming he must have been expecting you anyway but you really should have knocked because the door opened to Jin standing shirtless with a T-shirt in his hand. You gasped and immediately turned around, covering your eyes.
“My eyes, My eyes! This was not the welcome sight I was hoping for.”
Jin’s laugh echoed the room and he shut the door behind you, taking your hands off your eyes to see him fully dressed now.
“Believe me, it is the best sight you can see. 8th wonder of the world, isn’t it?”
“Can’t tell, didn’t get a good look.” You shrugged sitting down on his bed.
“Missed your chance. Sadly this beauty will never be witnessed by the world.” He said motioning his hand in the air hinting at his body. You knew even if he was being all cocky right now, he was more shy than he looked.
You scoffed, "Who's stopping you? Walk around shirtless if you really want that."
"Can you handle it?"
There should have been a warning before he leaned in and asked you that question, with a smirk adorning his face. You physically paused for a second, blood rushing to your face due to the proximity. Has he always looked like this? This is the closest Jin has been to you in 18 months and you couldn't help but wonder at how much he has changed or maybe it was the time spent apart. His hair was shorter now, his physique broader now than before, his face still the same but he looked…better?
You cleared your throat turning away from his gaze, "As if that's anything that difficult. I've seen better."
Jin leaned backward laughing at your comeback.
"Lies but whatever helps you sleep at night Y/n."
You rolled your eyes before looking back at him and a moment's silence fell on you and you realized that it's your best friend standing in front of you. No more video calls or phone calls or text messages. Your crazy, insane, your only best friend was back for good. And you realize then how much you've actually missed him now that he was here.
"What are you staring at?" He interrupted your thoughts, "Imagining what it's like under the shirt?"
"Were you always this cocky?" You frown, titling your head.
He shrugged, "Military changes you."
He finally sat down next to you.
"Did you miss me?" He asked.
You looked at his face holding a deep emotion that you understood instantly. Despite his exterior, he was still your soft SeokJin whose heart really just belonged here, who in his cockiness was just hiding how much he actually loved being back. You could see every single emotion in his eyes, he wasn't hiding it from you anyway. He never had to. Jin had always felt comfortable with you and he was sure he had never cried in front of anyone but you because that’s how he was with you.
"What do you think?" You softly replied.
His face adorned with a smile and he hugged you instantly, unable to hold back anymore. One of his hands rests on the back of your head and the other rests on your back.
You hugged him tighter, sliding closer.
He didn't need to say how much he missed you but he did, "sucked not having anyone to annoy," in his own way of course.
You chuckled in the hug, slapping his back gently, "I missed you too idiot."
His chest vibrated against you in a soft laugh and you let yourself melt into the hug. It reminded you of the last time you hugged him in silence before the military and how afraid you both were that if you said anything both of you would end up crying so neither of you said anything. But this was different, this was warm, it wasn't sad, he was home.
He was finally home.
The dinner went by relatively fun, old jokes resurfacing, old memories, cringey childhood stories, how your parents met each other, the marriage debacle, Jin's first time away from home, your first time away from home, high school stories and what not. You could have lived there, laughing all night but your parents were old, so were his and before it was midnight they all passed out tipsy.
Jin and you took the responsibility to clean up the kitchen and dining area talking softly in whispers, complaining about your parents but it was nice being home, with him across from you.
"Do you wanna go upstairs?" Jin asked once you both were done cleaning the house.
You agreed and slowly made your way upstairs.
“You still have this?” You smiled as you pointed at a small wand you made from clay when you were young and obsessed with Harry Potter. He just nodded.
“Souvenir of your creativity.”
"I didn't get a good look when I came into the room earlier. Not a thing has changed." You took in his room, all the frames, all paintings, all his trophies, his CDs, his PC still all intact.
"I was surprised as well but I'm planning on getting rid of some stuff." He said as he sat down on the bed.
You were still looking at the picture frame of you both when you felt a hand pull you onto the bed. You flop like a ball next to Jin. Your heart rushed due to the sudden movement.
"Enough snooping." He said laying back on the bed.
You look at him before you lay down next to him as well staring up at the ceiling.
"Was it lonely?" You asked after a long silence.
Jin cleared his throat and you watched him shake his head, "Lonely and me? Never."
But you don’t look away from him because you still remember his 2 am texts to you about random things that you would be unable to reply to at times.
"What?"
"Be honest with me. It had to have been lonely." You wanted to reach his hand, hold him but you didn't.
Jin looked at you for a moment. You could read him too well to know that he wouldn't admit it but then he stared back up at the ceiling, "being honest about it now doesn't change anything."
You really wanted him to go and talk about it more but he shifted the conversation to you.
"Enough about me. All we've talked about is me. I want to know about you, what have you been doing this past year except missing me ofcourse." His expressions were much lighter now.
You rolled your eyes, "as if my world revolves around you."
You felt him nudge you so you had no option but to talk to him. You turned sideways to Jin who had already turned to you
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything. Are you still doing the same job? Did you finally talk things out with Ha-Yun? Anything that has changed."
You shook your head, "still at the same company but the manager changed so it made things a lot easier. I finally get to do my own share without problems. I texted Ha-Yun but she never reached back, I don't think she will but it's old stuff now. I can't complain. Rest has been the same."
Jin frowned, "do you want me to talk to her? Bet she'd reach out instantly."
You chuckled, "She'll take it as a sign. She's had a crush on you for like forever."
He pouted, nodding."What about that toxic roommate of yours?"
You signal the "kill" gesture with your hand.
"You killed her?" He exaggerated of course, a bit too loudly.
You slapped a hand over his mouth, gently, "not so loud."
You feel him laugh in your palm making you smile but he eventually takes your hand away from over his mouth, "What do you mean I killed her? I live alone now, that's it."
"Can you blame me? You literally did," he reenacted your gesture.
You closed your eyes smiling, "fine, my fault."
"What else?"
Jin pouts thinking for a moment, "Dating? You never talked about it even on the call."
You turned away slightly from Jin's gaze, shifting behind clearing your throat after a moment of silence, "Nope."
Jin's hand grasped yours and turned you to him, "Really? The whole year? Why?"
You just shook your head, "Work doesn't really give me time to date."
He frowned, "But you're here with me. Made time for me."
He waited expectantly for your answer, looking at every feature of your face in the dark as if he was looking for a specific response.
You took a deep breath, "Yah, my best friend is back, do you think I won't make time to see you? Would be pretty rude of me."
Jin hummed, "fair enough. When you have such a handsome best friend you kind of have to."
You shook your head smiling, "Still cocky."
"And you're not denying." You could see him smirk in the dark.
You really pause for a moment, should you agree? Should you not? Technically he was handsome but should you really fuel his fire by agreeing to him.
"Whatever you want to believe."
And then you sat up straight.
"Look at the time. It's late, I should go-" and you suddenly feel a hand over yours, not holding just softly on top of yours.
"A bit longer?" When you turned to him he was looking at you with anticipation in his eyes, waiting for you to say yes and you wanted to stay longer and because you wanted to so you didn’t.
You clicked your tongue, "if I hangout with you longer today it won't give you a reason to meet me again soon. Wouldn't want that."
It was perhaps the most honest answer with refusal you could formulate.
Jin seemed impressed by your answer and sat upright next to you, "you've grown bold."
You shrugged.
And then you really leave bidding your goodbyes, taking your parents with you.
All you really looked forward to though was the next time you'd see Jin again.
The next time you heard from Jin was a week later late at night when you were at home working on pending office work.
"Did you eat?" He asked as soon as he showed up at your flat in his black overalls and spectacles you had forgotten he wore.
You turned to look at the watch on the wall and realized it was pretty late for dinner.
"Knew it. I bought takeout!" He swung the bag in front of your face with a charming smile and a wink that you couldn't turn away from.
While you made room at your table with scattered pages, he set the table with all the food he bought.
"You bought so much food, planning on living here or what?" You joked but Jin looked at you deadpanned.
"Should we? It’ll be fun."
"Are you being serious?" You were dumbfounded.
"Dead serious."
You narrowed your eyes at him not believing him for a second then you sighed.
"You're lying, your ears are all red. That's your tell." You said going back to clearing everything to one side of the table.
Jin immediately covered his ears, "Damn it. You know me too much, can't even fool you."
He was disappointed to say the least but you had a good laugh out of it so it was all settled.
Once you started eating you ended up talking for a long while about Jin's sabbatical getting over and starting work soon and just other unimportant stuff.
"What were you working on anyway?" He asked randomly looking at the pile of papers next to your laptop.
"Audit stuff. I have to upload all the data on the cloud by 4pm tomorrow and the data is too much."
"Do you want me to help? You know I'm a pretty fast typer." That was in fact true. With all the games he played, all the coding he did he had skilled fingers and you let your greedy intentions get you for a second, almost agreeing but then you realized you shouldn't take advantage of him.
"Nah, I'll do it. I don't want to inconvenience you besides you also have to go back.. right?"
Jin just shrugged, "I could crash or just leave as soon as the work is over. Let me help, it'll be easier."
You hesitated but then he got up from his chair and leaned down next to you, turning your chair to face him.
"You're not inconveniencing me. What are best friends for anyway? Let me help."
And so losing the argument, you let him.
You ended up with 3 batches of coffee made in between with Jin typing on your laptop while you told him exactly what and where to type and with his help the work summed up much sooner than you had planned. By the time you get free from work it was past 3 am.
"You really should sleep. You've got work tomorrow." Jin said as you yawned for the 20th time in an hour.
You shook your head, "it's fine. I'll just clean up and then go to bed."
Jin stood up behind you and pushed you by your shoulder towards the bedroom.
"I'll do it. You go and sleep."
"But-"
"No buts. You're making me sleepier and it's not even my bed time. I promise I'll clean all this up and go back home."
You shook your head but he didn't hear you at all. He pushed you more and more towards your bed and when you sit on the bed you realize how sleepy and tired you actually were.
He leaned down at your face level, "I promise it'll be spotless. Now sleep."
You had no choice but to sleep. All you remember before falling asleep was Jin.
The next morning when you walked out of the bedroom and into the living room finding it spotless as promised. All the leftover food you ate at night was gone, cups were washed and cleaned, your living room was spotless and on the table were your neatly stacked files and your laptop with a small post-it on top that read "fighting! Have a great day at work" which made you smile.
And amidst all that you notice Jin crashed out on your couch clutching himself so tightly because he didn't even try to cover himself. You shook your head at his carelessness and brought a blanket from your bedroom and covered him with it trying not to disturb his sleep and as you tucked him in you kneeled down before his face.
His eyebrows were knit together and without thinking you ran your finger carefully over his temple, smoothening the muscle without disturbing his sleep. You stayed there, your hand lingering close to his face and his lips turned into a low smile and you wondered what he must be dreaming of to make him smile like that. A soft smile pulls at your face as you watch him sleep soundly. The longer you stared the more you realize that you could look at him just a bit longer and then it dwelt upon you that your heart was fluttering at the sight of your best friend.
You immediately pulled back from him, standing up when you caught erratic thoughts about watching him forever running through your head. You almost hit the table as you fumble backwards reassuring yourself that it was a momentary slip, that it was nothing more.
Seokjin was just your best friend.
And so you left for the office in a rush, leaving breakfast and a post-it note on the table thanking him for showing up last night and helping you out.
“Hi guys.” Your breath choked as you heard those words slip out from Ha-Yun’s mouth.
You and Jin shared a look before turning back to Hoseok and Ha-Yun.
Hoseok also feebly waved, his face holding an apologetic smile.
Jin sighed but he composed himself much quicker than you, “Guess we’re all going to the beach.”
Jin had reached out mid week to you and Hoseok about wanting to do a weekend trip together, emotionally manipulating you both about how much he missed spending time with his two closest friends from school and that it was the last time he could enjoy time out before returning to work and so, after a lot of back and forth he had won and it was decided that you’d go to the beach.
As Jin and Ha-Yun were busy keeping bags in the car, you cornered Hoseok "Why would you bring Ha-Yun? You know I'm not on speaking terms with her,” you cornered Hoseok.
He made a very apologetic face, "I know, I know, I wasn't going to but I met her by accident yesterday and she was in a bad mood, it just slipped out. I'm so sorry Y/n. I promise you won't have to deal with her at all. I'll make sure of it."
You sighed knowing there was no point grilling him anyways. She was going to be there whether you liked it or not even if it meant everything being awkward. Besides, you also knew that Hoseok's intentions were good no matter the result.
And truth be told, Hoseok was the one who introduced you both to Ha-Yun so you couldn't really argue whether he should have chosen to not invite her. They were both great friends, and so were you at one point until a whole argument happened that resulted in a damage that hasn't been fixed yet.
“You think you’ll be okay?” Jin asked before you finally sat in the car.
You lightly patted his arm and nodded, “Don’t worry about me. It's just one night.”
What’s the worst that could happen, right?
Turns out a lot.
As promised by Hoseok, you didn't have to deal with Ha-Yun at all. It was made quite sure because she didn't leave Jin's side at all.
She sat in the passenger seat in the car, next to Jin who was driving. Took the seat next to him during lunch. Talked with him non stop. Stayed next to him in the waters. Stood by his side in all the pictures. It felt like only the two of them had come on the trip while you and Hoseok were absent. So, yes technically she wasn't a bother to you but also she was because you had hoped this trip would be otherwise.
Tired from the beach, you finally sat down on the sheets on the beach, your gaze fixed on all 3 of them laughing, playing in water, swimming even and you couldn't help but smile because despite all of it, this was the most fun you had in a while. It was rare to get chances like these every time because you knew just how much effort each of you put to be here together to commemorate Jin's return.
Not much later Hoseok walked over to you and laid down next to you under the umbrella.
"Why aren't you joining?"
"I did. I'm just tired now. We're not really kids anymore." You sighed. He nodded, agreeing with you.
After a few moments of silence, he sat upright next to you watching you watch the two in the water.
"Sometimes I do wish we had spent more time together during college." It was a painful revelation that Hoseok made more than often.
You smiled at him, "I do too but you're here now and being here together is better than nothing at all."
He just smiled back and you both went back to looking at Jin and Ha-Yun who were now walking back towards you both.
"Y/n, come." Jin said as soon as he came back.
You shook your head, "Tired."
"Come on, you weren't even with us long enough."
You still shook your head. Jin frowned. When he realized he wasn't winning you over like that he sat down in front of you on his knees and leaned in to whisper in your ear. Instinctively your breath stops dead in your throat and your hand clutching at the sand.
"Is it because of her?"
And when he leaned backward you could only notice the strand of hair that dripped a single drop of water down his face. It was unfair how effortlessly Jin still looked put together, as if he was just returning from a shoot.
"I swear I'm just tired. I'll join you a while later."
Jin had no option but to leave you alone. He found it odd but he chose not to talk about it then.
After having watched the sunset together you all had decided to meet exactly an hour later for dinner at the restaurant Jin chose so here you were, at the restaurant, sitting opposite to Jin because the seat next to him was taken, obviously, by Ha-Yun.
"Jin, do you remember the time when you and I went to that amusement park together in college? How scared I was at the ferris wheel and could not leave you? But we had so much fun. We should absolutely do it again, don't you think?" Ha-Yun asked. This was probably the tenth story of her and him.
Jin nodded, "Absolutely. I've missed out on a lot of civilian stuff- oh nevermind, Y/n gets sick on rides."
You suddenly look up at him from your food.
"We could go together then? Just us two- three of us even." She said,
Jin looked at her quizzically, "We can't leave her out, it's un-"
"Oh no, you guys should. Amusement Parks aren't my thing anyways. You guys should go and have fun someday." You forcefully smiled.
Jin almost looked at you as if he was concerned but before he could even say something Ha-Yun had interrupted already making the plans.
Truth be told, you weren't feeling quite like yourself during the dinner. It was perhaps the tiredness but somehow you just wanted to go back home.
You hear your phone buzz and you open it to check Jin had texted you across the table.
Seokjin: Are you okay?
You just look up at him and smile, nodding.
He didn't buy it but he didn't push you.
"Jin if I remember the last time-"
"Jin, do you want a drink?" Hoseok interrupted whatever Ha-Yun was going to say. You almost laughed, but mentally thanked him for directing the conversation away.
Thanks to him, the rest of the dinner shifted to Hoseok and Jin talking while Ha-Yun chirped only a bit in between. You chose to mostly listen adding only a few things every once in a but mainly concentrating more on your drink and dinner.
"There you are." You heard a familiar voice making you turn away from the beach you took to after dinner.
You turned around to watch Jin walking towards you. You smile and wave at him.
"Been looking for you everywhere."
"I needed a breather. Besides, the sea at night time is the real beauty," You replied back.
Jin caught up next to you, "That you're right about."
When you don't say anything for a while, just walking silently along the beach, Jin asks, "Are you okay?"
You slowed down, turning your face to him, "Why do you ask?"
"You just seemed a little off. Is it because of Ha-Yun?"
You shrugged, "it could be. Was she always this annoying?"
Jin laughed next to you and you smiled.
"Isn't it a bit harsh? She was just enjoying her time."
You rolled your eyes, "Sure yeah. When else can she enjoy sitting next to you, being all over you, asking you to open a bottle of water when she really could have done it on her own. I get it when else is she ever going to have the opportunity of being next to you 24 hours."
Jin turned around walking backwards so he could see you. He was amused at your reaction, "Been keep watching on me, haven't you?"
Thanks to the night he couldn't see the blood rush to your face from embarrassment. You turned your gaze to your feet.
"Haven't. Been watching her."
Jin smirked, "Sure yeah, watching her! Let me ask you something, What colour of top was she wearing?"
You narrowed your eyes at him, "You'd know that better."
Sober you would probably not have answered this but you were tipsy and you felt a little free.
Jin let out an exasperated laugh, "Oh my Y/n, so much jealousy."
You shook your head, "Jealous? Of Her? Never."
But to avoid him you started walking faster but just as your pace picked up, you felt a hand grabbing your wrist, twirling you around and you almost collided into Jin. Your body almost flush against his.
"Passive Aggressive much. You're cute when you're jealous." He was smirking, still. His eyes glimmered with amusement.
Your mouth dries up instantly. Your system shutting down, going to default settings. You shouldn’t be so close to him that you can see that faint freckle on his skin.
"I'm not jealous." But your voice came out much lower than you had hoped. Much less confident. It was supposed to be a witty response but it had turned into something completely otherwise.
"Then tell me honestly why were you so weird today?" He was being serious now. His eyes strongly gazed into yours.
You look up at him and realize that neither of you had moved an inch since Jin had pulled you into him.
You pulled back from him a little, forming a little distance between the two of you, "I'm not being weird- I'm just tired, really. Work has been exhausting this week and I didn't want to cancel because it's you." It was also partially true.
Jin stepped forward, looking down at your face, closing the distance between you two again, "We could have done this any other time, any other day. You could have told us."
You sighed, turning your face away from him, "It's not that simple."
"Why is it not? Why Y/n?" He asked with a confused face, almost impatient. He was looking at you with concern, worry and whatever other emotion was settled on his face.
"We won't always have the time.. I won't. Hoseok won't. Didn’t you see how long it took us to match schedules? I love that you're back Jin, finally, I waited 18 months for this. We both waited and I don't want to ruin it by saying some lame excuse that work's been hectic or whatever. I want to be there for you and I want to show it with all the time I have. I don't want to make excuses for you."
It was your honest answer, yes, you never want to make up lame excuses for him, you always wanted to be there for him.
Jin's face relaxed, growing more softer by the second, a small smile tugging at his lips. He took your hand in his own and caressed it mindlessly.
"You always show up for me, Y/n. I can't remember a single time when you haven't. I'll never doubt you but I don't want you to feel like you have to make up for lost time. I'm not going anywhere, not anymore. I'm here now. We have all the time in the world."
It was an assurance, a real assurance that he really wasn't but how could you explain everything to him. What about the things you didn't know yourself or rather, things you didn't want to admit.
After a pause he continues, "And about Hoseok not having time, let's be real, I only ever came here for you, so had he said he was busy I still would have come here with you."
You frowned, "for me?"
He nodded, "Do you remember the last thing we were supposed to do before I left for service?"
You nod. You remember clearly that you were going to go camping but you couldn't because it ended up raining heavily.
"But we couldn't so we ended up drinking at my place instead and you told me that you never liked camping anyways, that you liked beaches more. That's why I wanted to bring us here."
Oh.
"You remembered that?"
His face looked adorable with that small little curve of his smile and an expression that conveyed remembering things about you was the most obvious thing for him, that there could be no doubt about it. He took another step forward towards you, his hand still lingering over yours, "Why wouldn't I? It's you."
And your heart fluttered. Again.
You stay silent for a couple of seconds, not knowing what to say then you hastily turn around and start walking slowly. You heard his footsteps following you.
"I didn't know you remembered that, besides I don't even remember saying that. We could have done something you liked." He was now walking beside you and just for a second your hand brushed against his making you fold your arms across your front.
"Well I like beaches. They're beautiful." You could feel his gaze on you but you didn't know why so you just nodded.
"Plus you've been on enough fishing adventures with me to know that I like the sea," he stated as if it was that obvious. And it was but the truth is, you liked beaches because he did. That is not to say that beaches weren't calm and peaceful and beautiful, it's that when you've been with him for almost all your life, you'd be stupid to not like the sea.
When you both finally reached back to your rooms and were about to enter, Jin turned slightly towards you and said, "I'd be jealous too if someone was all over you too."
You knew he was kidding, he had to but you couldn't help but imagine if he really would be jealous if someone was all over you. He wouldn't though, right?
You shook your head and entered your room calling him an idiot. But till the time you went to bed that was all that you could think of. And you realized your history was repeating itself whether you liked it or not. You had tried denying it but it wasn’t working. This was Jin afterall, nothing stayed buried forever.
As you laid on your bed you thought about everything. You assumed all that distance, all that time away in the military would change something in you but it hasn't, not even a little bit. As soon as he was back you were forced to face the fact that your feelings were still there and today it was confirmed when the mere sight of Ha-Yun all over Jin bothered you, when at the beach all you wanted was to hold his hands but you didn't, you couldn't.
Everything replayed in your head like a montage, from the moment your heart fluttered for the first time when you were just college students till now. You can't deny it anymore, even if you want to but you know the truth.
You loved Jin. You've probably loved him a lot longer than you know, since you were kids maybe but you didn't know what to call that emotion, thinking you were confused but you knew you cared for Jin a lot differently than you did for others and it could not be simply be sufficed as care for your best friend. But you only ever realized you were truly in love with him when he'd get his heart broken by girls all the time in college and you couldn't help but want to be the one to fix it for him. He was the type to go "all in" in a relationship, he'd do everything right and still somehow got his heartbroken. His love was loud and you knew it but you wished that people would love him loudly, just like he did. Not even how you did in silence but it wasn't your choice, you didn't even know what you felt.
Then suddenly one night after his break up with a girl who cheated on him, he was with you, drinking, wallowing his sadness. You had taken away his bottle but he was still silently crying and you didn't know what to do so you did what you could. You talked to him. You consoled him, you comforted and in that comfort you both had slipped enough to be cozy with each other and in your arms he had spilled the worst of his fears, the pain in his heart and you stayed there for him, with him, holding him and maybe that's why Jin had ended up kissing you that night. In the name of comfort. Because he was in pain. Because he had too much to drink. And you let him. But your heart decided it was love, your naive heart thought it could be more. You could still feel your heart racing every time you thought about that kiss.
But the next morning he said he didn't remember anything except coming over to your dorm. You swore you'd never bring it up because you knew he remembered. His ears were the deepest shade of red. So you knew he lied, and if he lied that meant he didn't think of you that way, that he didn't feel for you the same way and you decided you'll live with your unrequited love.
Because your love for him was always louder only in silence. Your heart still aches for him, you'd do anything for him but also love him enough to know Jin can never be yours and that's why you choose to protect your heart every time you catch yourself slipping too much into your emotions. He was just your best friend and you can't lose your best friend.
"Y/n, can I talk to you for a moment?" Hoseok said as he helped you pull your luggage down from the car while Jin was taking a short call.
You nodded. Hoseok pulls you further away from the car and Jin and asks, "Where were you and Jin last night?"
"Oh! We were just at the beach, taking a walk. I guess I had too much to drink so I went there for a walk, he found me there."
Hoseok nodded but you frowned, "why do you ask?"
He just shrugged, "I thought finally something happened."
You were more confused now, "What do you mean something happened? What could happen?"
His hands gestured between you and Jin who was still on the call, "Between you two."
"Why would anything happen?" You were genuinely confused if Hoseok knew anything and if he did, how?
Hoseok raised an eyebrow at you, "because you like him.. right? It's pretty obvious."
Your eyes widened, "what do you mean like him? I don't. He's my friend, just like you are."
Hoseok scoffed, "As if. Have you ever seen the way you look at him? I do, all the time. Even on the beach. You still look at him the same way-"
"Y/n, are all your bags out?" Jin interrupted from a distance.
You hastily nodded.
You turned to Hoseok again, "we'll have this conversation later."
He nodded, "I think we need one. I'll see you soon, okay."
With that you bid both of them off and you were left thinking about how long had Hoseok known about your feelings? And worse, if he knew then did Jin know?
"Can I ask you something?" You asked Jin who was mindfully playing a game adjacent to running a code on his PC.
Why were you here? Jin was bored. He had work to do and apparently "working alone is boring, come over." So, here you were in his kitchen getting the ramen.
Jin paused whatever game he was playing and turned around to give full attention to you.
"Go ahead."
You hesitated but you needed a little clarification. Your short conversation with Hoseok was scary enough as is and you had tried talking to Hoseok too many times to count but he was busy with his parents anniversary party and what not, so, you had no choice but to maybe try to ask Jin which was and is as weird as it sounds but it was the only way that you could find a way to relief.
"What do you- and well- Hoseok talk about?" You ask hesitantly.
Jin's eyebrows knit together, "you're almost always there so pretty much that stuff. Why do you ask?"
You no longer leaned against the kitchen counter, standing straighter than before, "what about when I'm not there?"
"Y/n, if you think we bitch about you, you're right, we do." He chuckled, turning around in his chair going back to the PC.
You rolled your eyes at him even though he could not see you, "Come on, I'm genuinely asking. I'm curious."
You heard him sigh as he kept coding, "Y/n, I'm not sure what you're getting at. Did you and Hoseok fight or something?"
You sighed louder, "nevermind I asked-"
"Okay, okay. What do you want to know?" He asked momentarily, turning to you.
You bit your lip rethinking if you should really ask but it's for your own sanity. Right?
You finally ask the figure turned around in his chair again, coding, "Have you guys ever talked about feelings or something?"
Jin's typing completely stopped. The room fell completely silent. Then without turning around he asked, "Why? Do you like Hoseok?"
And you realized how that question must have come across to him.
You immediately walk out of the kitchen and more towards him, "No, no. Absolutely not.. he's just a friend."
And then you heard typing again and for a moment he didn't say anything then he suddenly turned around, "Does Hoseok like someone? Does he like you?"
Your eyebrows knit together at your temple, "What? No. Not that I know. No. Absolutely not. Again we're just friends."
Jin then turned back around almost disappointed, slumping back in his chair.
"Why are you asking all this?" He asked, still focused on the screen.
You just shrugged and then you realized he couldn't see you, "Curiosity. Just wanted to know if you guys talk about feelings and relationships."
Jin let out a chuckle, "Weird curiosity but to answer you, we usually don't. Rarely. Only when we've both been dating but not feelings I gu- Y/n, can you please pass me my phone. It's over there." He pointed near the coffee table and you immediately went to pick it up.
You didn't mean to see but as you unplugged his phone the screen lit up and you saw the top most message from Ha-Yun followed by messages by 4 other girls. You had forgotten how popular Jin can be.
He was still holding out his palm for his phone so you just gave it to him.
"I think you have messages... From her. Ha-Yun."
You see him frown.
"Must be asking about the amusement park thing. How do you think I should tell her I don't want to go?" He had now turned to you, looking up at you, his glasses glowing with the light from the screen.
"Just be honest. Or lie that you're busy."
Jin scrunched his nose then nodded.
"Why do you want to cancel anyway?"
Jin just shrugged, "Amusement Park doesn't sound very old enough of me."
You watched him in amusement, almost laughing out loud, "I can't believe Kim SeokJin is saying that. Too old for amusement parks? As if. If I ask you today to go, you'll be jumping up and agreeing."
He was smiling without looking at you, "do you want to? We can go."
You just shook your head, "I definitely am too old for it."
"Age is just a number, Y/n. You should have a little fun in life." Even though you knew he was being playful, you knew there was some truth in it.
"Do you not like Ha-Yun or something? Is that why you don't want to go?"
Jin just pouted, shaking his head, "It's not that. She seems nice even though I know you don't think that but she's not that bad. I just don't have the time right now to go anywhere."
You just nodded your head, walking back towards your forgotten Ramen.
Then mildly out of your curiosity and partially because the time at the beach hasn’t left your mind, you ask without turning around, "If you could date Ha-Yun, would you?"
You don't hear a response for a while but when you turn around, Jin has sneaked up on you. You gasped, almost dropping the Ramen from your hands but he held your hand just in time, a lingering touch that you were sure only you felt.
You just stared at him while he kept smiling, the touch of his hands departing, "careful."
He picked up the second bowl of Ramen and chopsticks you had prepared and you followed him, mentally telling your heart to calm down.
"Don't know." He said randomly.
You looked at him quizzically, "don't know what?" You had forgotten you had asked something, completely forgetting it in Jin sneakily coming up behind you and then his hands over yours, and his stare and the look on his face.
He just sat down back on his table while you took the couch, watching him.
"If I would date Ha-Yun. She's good but I don't know if I would. Think I'd need to know her more to know that."
You felt your heart drop in your chest. It felt like the world was crashing. You should have expected that. Everyone but you. But you don't let it show, as you always have acted.
You don't know why you asked but you made it worse by asking further, "What about anyone else? Dating any of those women who texted you.. the texts were right there."
Jin just turned to you with a comical expression, partially confused, "Why are you suddenly so interested in my dating life?"
You tried to play it cool by shrugging it off, "you're always popular among the ladies. Can't I be curious?"
Jin chuckled at you and turned to you for a moment, "Honestly though, I don't think I want to date right now. Enjoying my return to civilian life too much for that."
Oh.
You should have known it was just going to make it worse but as if you wanted to hurt yourself on purpose you had asked and now you were left with a kind of pain you couldn't describe but a pain that you had grown so familiar with that you didn't even react anymore.
It's not that you were going to tell him anyway but him closing doors on dating inevitably takes your chances away. But it shouldn't matter, right? You weren't going to tell him anyway but his answers still pained you, even if a little.
"But you never know when you might find someone. You might run from it right now but someone might find you." You tell him honestly.
He just shrugged, nodding his head as if whatever you said made sense.
You gaze into your bowl of Ramen with only one thought in your mind, can you deal with this for the rest of your life? Can you watch Jin move on with his life, dating, loving someone while you're always just his best friend? Can you really?
"You might find someone too." He was being hopeful for you, even though you weren't.
"I doubt." You mumbled under your breath and went back to eating as well.
[7:00 pm]
SeokJin: Should I pick you up?
[7:05 pm]
You: I'm running late. You go ahead, I'll take a cab.
[7:06 pm]
SeokJin: Are you sure?
[7:06 pm]
You: 100 percent. Go ahead. I'll see you there.
And then all you receive is a thumbs up.
It was Hoseok's parents 30th Wedding Anniversary and they were throwing a party with all close people involved to celebrate the day and you could not be more glad for them except that you were running late because the dress you were supposed to wear ripped after getting stuck on a pointed corner leaving you with no other option but to wear the black dress that you'd only ever wear to a cocktail party because of its deep back and cleavage but it was all that you could wear last moment so you went ahead with it.
You arrived almost half an hour late to most guests at the party and whether it's fortunate or unfortunate the first person you meet when you enter reach the gate, waiting outside is Jin.
You walk up closer to the gate fixing your dress wherever possible so it didn't reveal much of how conscious you were to wear that dress in a family setting but all your thoughts scrambled when you see Jin wearing a black tux with a red shirt underneath that you were sure nobody could pull off but him because he didn't just look good, he looked every definition of handsome in every dictionary on earth. His hair was slightly longer now, styled, his clothes fitting him just right to appeal his body. You've never seen someone looking that good in such a combination and with such a charismatic aura that made everyone look back at least twice. Loving him for his looks was never on your agenda but you can't help but fall for him more when he pulls up looking like that.
You still reach him, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
"Why are you outside?" You ask as soon as you reach him but there's a weird silence about him. His eyes had not shifted from you from the moment he saw you walking towards the gate.
"You." His voice suddenly sounded much deeper than you've known.
You?
"Me?" Your eyebrows raised.
As if pulled out of a trance, he cleared his throat, his eyes focusing back on your face "I figured you'd be arriving by now, so I thought I'd wait outside."
"Oh. Shall we go inside?" You asked.
He nodded and he held the door open for you.
As you almost reach the gathering you stopped and turned around suddenly making Jin almost collide into you.
"Do you think the dress looks too much?" You asked. You really needed a second opinion but you were concerned if he’d actually give a good opinion considering how distracted he seemed right now for whatever reason.
His eyebrows raised completely, "What?"
"I asked if you think the dress looks too much. I was going to wear something else but it ripped at the last minute. It's a bit revealing. Do you think it's too much?"
Jin cleared his throat, again, "No- it looks good... In fact, you look really good. We compliment each other."
You frowned, "We do?"
He pointed at your heels.
"They're red, wine more like. It compliments my shirt."
It did. You had forgotten to change your heels actually but you were glad now that you didn't.
"You noticed?" You smile a little to yourself.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I."
But why would he?
"Shall we go?" He smiled at you. You took a deep breath and nodded.
Together you greeted a bunch of people, friends you used to be in touch with, each other's parents, Hoseok's relatives and finally Hoseok and his family.
"Aren't you two a couple?" Hoseok giggled.
You almost spat your drink, coughing and choking on your drink. Jin's hand immediately patted you back, asking if you're okay.
"It just happened." Jin answered for you.
"You two look good-" you pinched Hoseok making him flinch in pain.
"Thankyou for the compliments. Can we meet your parents now?" You asked. Unfortunately you couldn't because the ceremony started unfolding soon and you were forced to take your seats next to your families.
A thing or two happened, then cakes were disturbed and before you knew it, people started scrambling more and more separating you and Jin, so, everytime you looked for him, he was busy talking with somebody new. Talk about an attractive figure at a party.
As everyone got busy with their people, you made your way into the balcony. It's not that you didn't enjoy parties but you didn't know anyone well enough here to talk and the only two people you could talk to were busy so you chose to watch the party from a distance. It was a beautiful gathering you had to agree and Hoseok's parents were probably the most adorable couple you had come across.
You were still focused on the party when you noticed Ha-Yun walking into the balcony almost as if she was coming towards you.
"Hi, Y/n." Oh, she was.
You shifted a little so you were no longer leaning completely against the railing, "Hi Ha-Yun. Haven't seen you since the beach trip."
She nodded, taking a stand next to you, "Been busy."
You nodded because that's all that you could do.
When a long silence fell, Ha-Yun couldn't take it anymore and turned to you, "I'm sorry for not reaching back."
You almost flinched at his suddenness but then a low smile tugged at your face, "Ha-Yun, it's an old thing now. It doesn't matter anymore, we even took a trip together."
You were really just being polite.
She shook her head, "Still. I just- I just feel like I could have been a better friend."
She was a little hesitant so you hold her arm gently, "Ha-Yun, if anything I should have been a better friend. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did back then-"
"but it gave me no right to ask you to leave the party that night. It was extremely rude of me and this past year I've been sitting with this guilt of practically throwing you out of there. I could have been more mature then. I'm so sorry about it." She really did have a guilty face and it was genuine, you knew it. She wasn't a bad person, just a little immature at times.
The reason you stopped talking was because at Ha-Yun’s party more than a year ago you caught her making out with someone who was in a toxic relationship. It was unbearably toxic, you knew it but you didn't like the way Ha-Yun had intervened. You understood her feelings but you called her out for choosing the wrong way to go with it. It had nonetheless fallen apart but she had asked you to leave the party immediately and despite the fact that you had apologised, she hadn't acknowledged it until today.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry too." You smiled at her and hugged her briefly. Things weren't going to go back the way they were but it could start. You both ended up talking for a while about old things, parties, mistakes and everything until you both came to a significant pause in which your eyes had fallen back on Jin talking to yet another person.
"He looks good, doesn't he?" She said suddenly. You couldn't help but agree.
"I had forgotten just how good he looked while he was away. When Hoseok told me he was back, I was so excited to meet him as a friend.."
It looked like she wanted to continue so you asked, "and now?"
She smiled shyly, "Its just- he looks even better now than i remembered and I can't help it, Y/n, he looks too good and he is such a good person for me to not, you know try on him."
You gulped, unsure if you wanted her to go on but you didn't want to seem like a bad, unsupportive friend especially when you had just reunited.
"What's stopping you?"
She looked at you and said, "you think I should try?"
You knew you were going to regret it but you were nobody to hold her back. Just because you can't act on your feelings doesn't mean she has to too.
You nodded, "Go ahead. Never a better time, you even look good."
And before you knew it she was already making her way towards Jin. You kept watching her approach him, her hands lingering over his arms, leaning in just enough to be close to him but not enough to scare him away. You watched them until you couldn't anymore. You wouldn't want to admit it to yourself but it pained you to watch this, it ignited a jealousy in you that you hated, a feeling you had no right over but you felt it nonetheless. How many times has it been that you've seen it happen, with different women? Enough to count on your fingers but always enough to also know you're never in it.
You were watching elsewhere so when Hoseok approached you, you didn't see him until he tapped on your shoulder.
"Lost, are we?" He smiled. You smiled back and he offered you a glass of champagne which you willfully take.
He leaned against the railing next to you, watching you for a moment long enough.
"What?" You ask.
"You seem.. not happy. Is everything okay?" He asked, tilting his head.
You just hummed but then you heard a familiar laughter from the room not far enough. It was Ha-Yun and Jin. Your gaze gets stuck there.
Hoseok followed your vision then sighed, "How long are you going to watch him from a distance?"
You just shook your head gently.
"Come on, Y/n, do you think you can carry on like this? Be honest with me, why haven't you told him yet?" He was curiously looking at your face.
You just passed a sad smile, "For reasons quite obvious. He's my friend Hoseok, I can't risk it."
He let out a frustrated breath, "But you are willing to hide your feelings? Be hurt every time he starts dating someone? Y/n, be a little brave."
Now you were frustrated, "Do you think it's that easy, Hoseok? He's my best friend. Do you think I haven't thought about telling him like 100 times in my head? I have but this scenario always ends in the same way. With him never reciprocating my feelings and ruining years of friendship just because I became infatuated with him years ago."
Hoseok grabbed you and turned you towards him, completely facing him, "Y/n, why do you think it'll all just end like that? You'll never know what his feelings are unless you actually show it to him. You never know how he might react." His voice was a little softer now.
You shook your head again, "I know it will. I've spent more than two decades with him. I know him like the back of my hand. I know where he stands. It's Jin. Girls fawn over him left and right, he doesn't have that kind of thought about me at all."
"Why are you being so negative about it? What is it that other girls have and you don’t? Why can't you just think that maybe, just maybe he feels the same way?" You can't help but look at the hope in his eyes. He had always been the hopeful kind, always the one with optimism. He was like the sunshine in your life but you were a realist. You knew these things sounded better in fantasy, in real life friends lose friendships in a snap of a finger.
"Because I'd rather be hopeless than be hopeful of Jin ever loving me back."
Hoseok wasn't giving up though. He took your hand in his and caressed it gently, "You're allowed to be in love with him Y/n. You're allowed to have feelings for him, to be hopeful of something with him. I know you don't want to have any expectations but tell me honestly, have you never wondered what it would be like to free yourself of these unrequited feelings? Of not being the only one carrying these feelings all these years?"
For once you didn't have a winning argument because honestly you've thought about it more times than you can count.
He stepped a little closer, "I know you don't want to get hurt, hurt him either and it's a big risk telling him how you feel but can you do this forever? Can you always watch him from a distance, always wishing, hoping it were you instead of some other girl? Don't you think you owe it to yourself to be honest about your feelings?"
Why was Hoseok so persuasive? Because you knew you couldn't. You've wondered about it a lot, if you can really be happy watching him from a distance.
"Y/n, it's time you told him now. It's a leap of faith you have to take even if you're scared because one of these days you may really miss your chance and you'll regret it more than losing him."
"What if I really end up losing him, Hoseok? What if I tell him how I feel but we can never go back to the way it was? What if it's a huge mistake?"
Hoseok hummed, nodding his head, "it could be a huge mistake but if he throws away 20 years of your friends just like that then it'll be his fault because you're a wonderful friend to have."
You smiled at him for the compliment. You can't deny, it genuinely felt much lighter to be able to talk to someone about your feelings instead of being suffocated in your suffering.
"You're a wonderful friend too. I genuinely mean it."
"I am quite good, I'm aware." And there was his cockiness that made you laugh.
"But seriously Y/n, you deserve the kind of love with which you've loved him all these years. The reciprocation from him and something tells me it'll all work out."
You couldn't help but chuckle, "What are you? A prophet?"
He just shrugged, raising his eyebrows, "I just have a feeling. Gut feeling, if you will."
"You do realize that 90 percent of the time your gut feeling is wrong?" You joked.
Hoseok placed his hand playfully over his chest as if hurt, "You're cruel."
But you were glad that it made you laugh. You both stood there for a few more minutes talking, Hoseok inquiring when it all started for you and being genuinely surprised that he realized it much later though you told him that you were surprised that he actually found out.
You kept talking for a bit until Hoseok excused himself to take rounds around the room again, after all he was the host.
When he was gone, his words resonated with you. He was right about almost everything he had said except the part about not knowing how Jin would react because your memory was still scarred from your college days. You know whatever Hoseok said made sense, it really was a leap of faith but you don’t know if this time you placed your heart in his hands, would he turn away from it or embrace it?
If this time you gave him your heart, would he really take it?
_______________
A/n: certain edits will be underway for any mistakes.
Part 2 here
For other works→ Masterlist
Taglist: because I remember @jinkoo94 requesting me to tag them in upcoming updates. Taglist now open.
this and also the only difference between fanfic writers and writers who sell their own original works as careers is that fanfics aren’t monetized. that’s all.
being a “professional” writer doesn’t mean your works are inherently better than fanfics. I’ve read so many fics that are more professionally written than some published books.
whether or not a piece of writing is monetized has nothing to do with its quality.
summary: “wanna play with you,” the first time he said it, you were only a little girl... sitting on the floor with your barbies and dinosaurs, eyes lighting up because jungkook finally chose you over his legos- you didn’t know you would hear those same words again… years later, under the dim lights of your childhood bedroom, his fingers tracing against your clothed pussy.
warnings: nerd!dom jungkook x cute!shy reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, sloppy pussy eating, spitting, jk wore his nerd glasses during sex, edging, dom/sub dynamic, heavy sexual tension, playful degradation, jk fucks her in her childhood bedroom, mock sympathy, spitting in mouth, filthy sexual desires, condescending dirty talk, sloppy blow job, usage of whore & slut, praising, cum eating, detailed m. masturbation, mouth covering, choking, panty stuffing on mouth, fingers on mouth, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie.
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Blueberry cheesecake, the sweet and sour flavor that melts on your tongue… your favorite cake, the one Jungkook gets for you every birthday without fail, because he memorized your order long before he memorized his own.
Pastel pink, the soft girly color that clings to every part of you. Your clothes, your bedsheets, your hair clips, every little thing you own carries a touch of pink somewhere. Whenever Jungkook spots the shade in public, his thoughts find their way back to you.
Romantic novels, anything that leaves your heart racing and your feet kicking against your mattress. Jungkook always finds himself wandering into bookstores because of you, scanning shelves for stories he thinks you would like, only to end up buying more books than he originally planned.
Makeup, oh you love makeup. Pink glitter brushed over your eyelids, glossy lips shining beneath the light, sparkly blush dusted across your cheeks. Jungkook swears he finds traces of your glitter everywhere… on his hoodies, on his fingertips, sometimes even on his face after you hug him too close.
Vanilla oatmilk latte, the coffee you order every single morning before school. Jungkook learned how to make it himself after watching you drink it so often, memorizing the exact measurements because you love them.
Powder cologne, soft, delicate and comforting. A scent Jungkook knows too well, one that settles into his hoodies whenever you steal them, one that drives him crazy whenever you lean too close without realizing what you’re doing to him.
Countless things.
Your habits, your favorite foods, the songs you replay until you get sick of them, your random mood swings, your little mannerisms, the way your nose scrunches when you laugh too hard, the way you avoid eye contact whenever you lie.
As your childhood best friend, Jungkook almost knows you better than you know yourself.
You were seven when you first met him, while Jungkook was already twelve.
Your mothers were close friends, living in the same village with houses only a few blocks apart. The first time your mother introduced you to Jungkook and his parents, you were painfully shy. Tiny hands clutching your barbie doll against your chest, pink shoes tapping nervously against the floor, you hid halfway behind your mother’s leg while peeking at him.
Jungkook, on the other hand, only looked at you with indifference.
He had been building legos upstairs before his mother called him down to greet the guests, and judging by the slight furrow between his brows, he was more irritated about being interrupted than interested in meeting you.
Dressed in a baby blue jumper, he looked like a tiny builder himself, big round eyes already drifting elsewhere as if he couldn’t wait to go back to his room.
You were an only child, and so was he, which was exactly why your parents thought the two of you would get along perfectly. They insisted you become playmates, excited over the idea of their children growing up together.
The problem was that the two of you liked completely different things.
You wanted barbie dolls, toy kitchens, dollhouses and tea parties.
Jungkook liked legos, robots, mini cars and toy dinosaurs.
So sitting inside Jungkook’s bedroom for the first time felt painfully awkward. Your mothers stayed downstairs, happily chatting over coffee while the two of you remained trapped upstairs in complete silence.
You sat on a small soccer-ball bean bag, clutching your barbie tightly in your lap, glossy eyes wandering around his room filled with boyish toys and shelves crowded with action figures. Your pink glittery dress looked so out of place, matching the headband resting neatly in your hair and the tiny dress your barbie wore.
This was not your kind of playtime.
Meanwhile, Jungkook sat at his tiny blue table, completely focused on stacking legos together like you didn’t exist. His brows pinched together in concentration, lips slightly puffed out as he connected the pieces one by one, so serious for a twelve-year-old boy.
You stayed quiet for nearly fifteen minutes, too shy to disturb him despite desperately wanting someone to play with. But as the minutes dragged on, boredom slowly began to creep in. You carefully stood from the bean bag and walked towards him, still hugging your barbie doll against your chest.
“C-Can I join?” you asked softly, curiously staring down at the colorful legos despite not understanding what he was even trying to build.
Jungkook glanced up at you, brows furrowing immediately.
“No,” he dismissed flatly before returning to his legos again.
Jungkook was serious about legos. His playtime revolved entirely around building them, fingers busy connecting tiny pieces together for hours without getting bored. Before that, he had been obsessed with dinosaurs, carrying them everywhere around the house, but eventually he discovered a new fixation. He realized he liked building things. Finishing a set only to display it proudly in his room like a trophy.
You pouted beside him. “Do you have barbies?”
Jungkook frowned immediately, glancing between you and the barbie doll smiling brightly in your hands as if the question itself offended him.
“No,” he said bluntly. “But I have dinosaurs.”
Maybe it was a strange combination.
You were sitting on the soft floor mat with barbie dolls while dinosaurs surrounded them like predators.
He only let you borrow the dinosaurs to keep you occupied enough not to disturb him while he played.
Still, you were entertained.
Cute little noises left your mouth as you imitated roaring dinosaurs and dramatic barbie voices, completely immersed in your own little world. Your giggles often filled the room while Jungkook remained focused on his legos, though sometimes his eyes would flicker towards you for a second before returning to his build.
And somehow, it became a routine.
Every Saturday, your mother would bring you over to Jungkook’s house… excitement would bubble inside you the moment you stepped through the front door because it meant running upstairs to his room again. By then, you already expected the sight waiting for you.
Jungkook sitting in his usual spot near the little blue table, focused on a brand new lego set.
And the dinosaurs already arranged neatly on the floor mat for you.
The two of you barely talked. But neither of you minded.
At your age, all that mattered was having toys to play with. While for Jungkook, happiness meant building something piece by piece until it was complete.
So every weekend, you would bring over a handful of barbies for the dinosaurs to chase around while Jungkook built something different each week.
Sometimes it was a car. Sometimes a house. Sometimes an entire little town slowly formed beneath his careful little hands.
It was one quiet afternoon when you finally decided to talk to him properly.
You had just entered his room, wearing your usual pink puffy dress with your hair tied into cute pigtails. After setting down your backpack filled with barbie dolls beside the bean bag, your eyes immediately landed on a brand-new set of dinosaurs arranged carefully across the floor mat.
Your eyes widened. “New dinosaurs!” you exclaimed excitedly, small hands already grabbing one of the unfamiliar dinosaurs to inspect it closer.
Across the room, Jungkook looked up from his lego table. His hands paused mid-build the moment he saw your expression. Your wide sparkling eyes, your bright smile, the way your excitement completely lit up your face over something as simple as mini dinosaurs.
For a second, he only stared. Then he quickly looked back down at his legos with a small pout tugging at his lips.
“M-Me and my mom went toy shopping for a new lego set,” he mumbled. “I saw a new edition of dinosaurs.”
A soft giggle escaped you as you hurried towards his table, clutching the dinosaurs tightly in your small hands. “Really?” you asked happily. “I thought you didn’t play with dinosaurs anymore?”
Jungkook glanced at you from the corner of his eye, slightly distracted by how close you suddenly were to him.
“Yeah,” he muttered quietly. “But you like them.”
He almost fell from his seat when you suddenly crouched down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, a sweet habit of yours whenever your parents did something for you.
“Thank you, Koo!” you giggled, hopping back towards the soft mat while Jungkook remained completely stunned.
Slowly, heat crept across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. His boba eyes wide and sparkly like a candy was given to him. His cute brows furrowed, and when he picked up a lego block… all he could think about was your cute smile and soft kiss.
At first, you truly thought you and Jungkook would never become close.
He was too quiet, too focused on his own little world of legos and building sets while you lived inside glittery barbie dream houses and dramatic dinosaur adventures. But as the months slowly passed, you found yourself growing fond of him. And somehow, Jungkook slowly grew fond of you too.
The distance between the two of you became smaller little by little.
From sitting separately in silence, you were now beside him at his table helping him build lego sets together, your tiny fingers handing him blocks while he taught you where they belonged. It felt almost special, like Jungkook had finally lowered the invisible walls around himself enough to let you into his space.
Quietly, you started wondering if maybe one day…he would want to play barbies and dinosaurs with you too.
“A brachiosaurus!” you gasped happily, excited when you realized what the two of you were building together.
Jungkook tried to hide the smile threatening to tug at his lips, the tips of his ears and the back of his neck slowly turning red.
"Y-You like it?'' he said in a small voice.
You nodded happily, eyes sparkling as you held up the long-necked lego dinosaur.
Jungkook smiled, unconsciously leaning closer, his cute bunny teeth showing as he made a mental note to buy more lego dinosaurs for you.
As the weeks passed, moments like those became more common. Then one Saturday, your tiny dream finally came true.
“Hi, Koo!” you greeted softly after entering his room, only to freeze slightly when you noticed his lego table untouched for once.
Instead, Jungkook was crouched beside the floor mat near the dinosaurs.
Your eyes widened.
“Wanna play with you,” he said with a shy smile, as he held a few dinosaurs in his tiny hands.
For months, you played alone while he focused on his lego sets.
The first time he finally let you help him build one, you were so happy that you started looking forward to every new set the two of you would make together.
It quickly became your favorite part of visiting him.
So seeing him willingly sit beside you now… actually wanting to play with your barbies and dinosaurs instead of his beloved legos—made excitement bubble in your chest.
It felt special, like he was stepping into your world the same way he had once invited you into his.
“O-Okay,” you said excitedly. “You can be the spinosaurus and I’ll be barbie.”
Your small hands shakily arranged the dinosaurs into a circle while Jungkook quietly watched you.
And the truth was, for the past few months, Jungkook had already been watching you more than he should.
Whenever you weren’t looking, his eyes would drift away from his legos just to watch you playing on the mat by yourself. Your cute little dinosaur noises, your giggles, the way you became completely immersed in your stories somehow made him happier than finishing any lego set ever could.
Sometimes he took days to finish builds that normally only needed hours, just because he kept getting distracted by you.
And whenever you paused your playing to look over at him with one of your cutest smiles, his chest would start beating strangely fast.
A small, innocent crush began to bloom in the little boy whose heart had only been filled with lego blocks—the very first piece quietly clicking into place inside him, setting the shape of something he didn’t yet understand.
At the age of eight and thirteen, the two of you became inseparable.
Whenever your mother got too busy with work, you would immediately beg her to drop you off at Jungkook’s house instead of leaving you home alone, and eventually it became normal for you to spend almost every weekend there. Your mothers didn’t even question it anymore. If you disappeared, they already knew you were upstairs in Jungkook’s room.
And somewhere along the years, you got to know him better. Jungkook only looked snobbish at first glance. Quiet, a little intimidating, always serious whenever he focused on something. But once someone truly got close to him, they would realize how sweet he actually was.
Especially with you.
As your friendship grew, so did the amount of time you spent together. Before long, sleepovers became common too.
The two of you would lie beside each other beneath the blankets, talking about random things for hours instead of sleeping. Sometimes you hid underneath the covers with a flashlight between you, pretending you were camping in the middle of a forest while whispering ghost stories and silly secrets to each other.
Jungkook would pull you close while you giggled uncontrollably, pressing playful kisses against your cheeks before dramatically pretending to die in your arms whenever you hugged him too tightly.
“I like the stars on your ceiling,” you murmured sleepily one night, while lying beside him on his bed. “Mine is just plain pink.”
Tonight was another sleepover. Your sleepy eyes struggled to stay open because you wanted to spend more time with him before falling asleep. The two of you were even wearing matching pajamas, yours covered in tiny pink hearts while his had blue ones, a matching set you had begged your mother to buy days before the sleepover.
Jungkook turned his head towards you, smiling softly when he noticed your eyes slowly drooping shut.
“You’re sleepy,” he giggled, poking your cheek gently with his finger when your eyes closed for a second too long.
You immediately pouted at him. “Am not,” you mumbled stubbornly. “We still have to play camping later, Koo.”
Playing camping beneath the covers with a flashlight was one of your favorite bedtime routines together, but tonight exhaustion was beginning to betray you. School had drained you completely, your body heavy against the mattress no matter how much you tried to stay awake.
Jungkook's lips curled into a small smirk, an evil little prank brewing in the back of his mind.
With a mischievous grin, he suddenly grabbed his throat dramatically, choking and panting before going completely still on the bed, eyes shut and tongue sticking out slightly like a fish… as if he had died.
“I think it would look cute to have planets too, what do you thin—Koo?”
The drowsiness vanished from your body the moment your eyes landed on him… frozen beside you.
“Koo?” you whispered, sleepy brows furrowing.
When he didn't move, panic bloomed instantly in your chest.
You sat up so fast the blankets tangled around your legs, tiny hands immediately grabbing his shoulders as you shook him desperately.
“Koo! Wake up, Koo!” you panicked.
Your glossy eyes widened further when he refused to move, his face still scrunched into that horrible dead fish expression. Heart pounding loudly inside your chest, you grabbed his cheeks with both hands, trying to wake him up while tears quickly gathered in your eyes.
“Boo! I got you—” His laughter stopped halfway when he saw your face. Fat tears rolled down your flushed cheeks while you stared at him in genuine fear.
A soft sob escaped your lips. “T-That’s, that’s not funny,” you sniffled quietly. “I thought you were dead!”
Jungkook instantly softened. Though he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at how adorable you looked.
“Aww, baby...” he chuckled softly, opening his arms for you. “Come here.”
He always called you his baby. Partly because you were younger than him, but mostly because you acted like his cute little girl half the time, clinging onto him whenever you got scared or upset.
When you glared at him through your tears, he only chuckled quietly instead of feeling guilty. Seeing your pouty face, your sleepy swollen eyes and pink cheeks somehow made his chest feel weirdly warm.
It made him want to hug you forever.
Jungkook moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your smaller body until your back rested against his chest. His laughter became softer when he caught your deadly glare again, leaning closer just to press a small apologetic kiss against your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, peeking at your face with the cutest pout.
When you still didn’t answer, he immediately resorted to the one thing he knew you could never say no to.
“Hmm, do you want some ice cream?” he whispered beside your ear, wiggling his brows playfully. “Mom bought some earlier.”
You stayed silent for a moment, still pretending to be upset while staring down at his hands tracing little circles against your palm.
Then your pout slowly weakened. “Okay,” you mumbled. “What flavor?”
Jungkook grinned immediately, bunny teeth appearing the second you gave in. He always knew how to melt your heart. Always knew exactly how to make you smile again.
And just like you spent countless days at his house, Jungkook spent plenty of time at yours too.
The first time he stepped inside your room, he looked completely stunned by the overwhelming amount of pink surrounding him.
Pink walls, pink blankets, shelves lined with barbie dolls, and plushies piled so high on your bed that there was barely any room left to sleep. Even the little lamp on your bedside table was dusted with glitter.
Meanwhile, Jungkook stood in the middle of it all, clutching a backpack filled with toy dinosaurs and looking painfully out of place in your princess-like bedroom. His usual blue jumper was the only thing that didn't blend into the sea of pink.
During sleepovers, you would force him to hug one of your teddy bears while you cuddled your favorite bunny plushie against your chest, proudly telling him it reminded you of him. Jungkook would always pout whenever you said that, his nose scrunching at the sight of you kissing the bunny.
Quietly, somewhere inside his heart, another tiny lego piece snapped into place whenever he watched you hold that bunny so tightly.
Most nights, neither of you slept early anyway. Your mother would occasionally scold the two of you after hearing nonstop giggles coming from your room late at night, the sound muffled beneath blankets while you whispered stories to each other instead of sleeping like you were supposed to.
You and Jungkook were always entertained by each other’s presence. And as the years slowly passed, both of you began to change. Your hobbies evolved just as naturally as you grew older together.
Jungkook slowly drifted away from legos and video games, while you traded barbie dolls and dress-up games for makeup and novels.
It wasn't surprising when Jungkook pursued engineering. He had always loved building things, ever since he was a little boy…carefully connecting blocks together at his tiny blue table.
The rooms that once overflowed with toys changed too.
Jungkook’s room became crowded with sketches, papers, blueprints and a laptop constantly left open on his desk. While your room transformed from shelves of dolls into a vanity covered with makeup, skincare products, perfumes and stacks of romance novels scattered across every surface.
And by the time you were eighteen and Jungkook was twenty-three, something between the two of you had quietly shifted.
Jungkook became protective over you in a way he never was before. Maybe it was because you were no longer the tiny little girl who followed him around with barbie dolls clutched in your hands.
Your cute colorful headbands became dainty little hair clips. Puffy dresses turned into soft sundresses that showed off the softness of your legs, always paired with small heels that made you look older than he was prepared for. Even your eyes had changed. Still sparkly and sweet, but now carrying a teasing playfulness beneath them. A bratty little glint that appeared whenever you wanted something.
But despite everything changing, some things about you stayed exactly the same.
You still hugged him constantly. Still kissed his cheeks whenever he did something sweet for you. Still clung onto his arm whenever you got excited over something small.
To you, those gestures were innocent, familiar, and natural.
But for Jungkook, they no longer felt innocent at all.
Somewhere throughout the years, your harmless affection had started affecting him differently.
A simple kiss against his cheek suddenly made heat spread through his body in ways that felt wrong to him. Your random hugs made his muscles tense instantly, his breath hitching whenever you pressed your soft chest against him, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.
And whenever you played with his hair while sitting a little too close beside him, or wore those cute little sundresses that clung softly to your curves and showed off your legs, Jungkook would find himself swallowing hard, his adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to ignore the strange tightness spreading through his pants.
You were still the same sweet little girl. But Jungkook was no longer looking at you the same anymore.
The lego pieces inside his heart were stacking faster now, building into something so deep and overwhelming that even he could no longer keep track of it.
“What’s cuter, this one… or this one?” you asked, holding up two dresses for Jungkook to see.
Today, the two of you were spending the day at the mall. After having lunch at your favorite restaurant, you immediately dragged Jungkook into a boutique, eager to shop for new dresses—your latest obsession.
Jungkook tilted his head, “The pink one,”
“I know! Okay, I’ll get this.” you smiled brightly.
By the time you finished shopping, you had already bought three more dresses from the boutique alone. Meanwhile, Jungkook sat patiently on the couch outside the fitting rooms, paper bags hanging from both of his hands while he waited for you without a single complaint.
When you finally turned to look at him after paying, your expression softened slightly. His head rested against the couch, eyes closed as if he had accidentally fallen asleep while waiting for you.
He looked exhausted. Lately, Jungkook had been reviewing nonstop for his engineering board exam, barely getting enough sleep between studying and helping around the house.
You were still in college, while Jungkook was already preparing for the next stage of his life.
It made you a little sad sometimes.
Weekends had become your favorite days because those were the only times he was fully free for you anymore.
You quietly sat beside him, and the moment the cushion dipped, Jungkook’s eyes immediately opened.
“You done, baby?” he asked softly, still half sleepy while instinctively reaching for your shopping bags to carry them himself.
You pouted… he looked so tired—wearing a black shirt that was a bit wrinkled from the day, his glasses slightly slipping down his nose and his hair a little disheveled. He still looked utterly handsome.
Without thinking much about it, you scooted a little closer to him. His brows furrowed immediately as your soft, powdery scent wrapped around him.
“Yup!” you smiled softly while fixing his slightly messy hair. “Let’s go home.”
His lips twitched. “Thought you wanted to visit the bookstore after this?”
You shook your head. “No, wanna rest.” Your voice turned softer. “Let’s take a nap at your house?”
Jungkook’s jaw immediately tensed. His tongue briefly swiped across his lower lip before he looked away for a second, something unreadable flickering across his face as he tried to gather himself together.
“Hmm…” he bit his lower lip, heavy-lidded eyes staring back at you. “You’ll go home after, okay?” he said, his voice coming out raspier than intended. “I still need to finish some reading, baby.”
A small sigh of relief escaped him when you nodded innocently. You never really noticed the change in him.
To you, Jungkook was only becoming busier as he got older. You didn’t notice how quickly he started declining sleepovers once his feelings for you began changing into something deeper.
He spent most nights trying to break the blocks apart—convincing himself it was wrong to think about you that way, trying to shatter the lego pieces inside his heart that kept snapping back together every single time he looked at you.
But he was failing, miserably. The little boy who was so good at building legos cannot break his own blocks apart.
Jungkook learned how to make the perfect vanilla oatmilk latte simply because you loved drinking them every morning.
He once rushed across three different bakeries just to buy blueberry cheesecake after hearing you complain over accidentally receiving strawberry cheesecake instead.
He started buying powdery perfumes, candles and diffusers whenever he saw them because every scent reminded him of you. He even found himself wandering through makeup stores looking at glittery products because your eyes always lit up whenever something sparkled.
You wanted something? He gave it to you.
Almost every single time.
Still, he buried his feelings carefully beneath years of friendship because the last thing he wanted was to ruin what the two of you already had.
He tried to stay close without wanting too much. Tried to act normal despite the growing warmth that spread through his chest and cock whenever you touched him carelessly. Tried to ignore the dangerous thoughts beginning to bloom inside his mind whenever you leaned too close, smiled too sweetly or hugged him for too long.
And some days, Jungkook truly thought he was doing a good job at hiding it.
“But Koo, I missed you…”
You followed Jungkook around the kitchen with a pout, trailing behind him like a lost puppy while he tried to ignore the way your voice instantly weakened his resolve.
It was summer break, and all you wanted was a sleepover.
Lately, Jungkook has been declining every single time you asked.
At first, you tried to understand. He was busy drowning himself in thick engineering books and endless papers for the upcoming board exams. But eventually, even weekends became off limits, which felt strange because Jungkook had always found a way to make time for you no matter how busy he was.
“Baby, I have some reading to do,” Jungkook said slowly while grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
You groaned dramatically, folding your arms while leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes following his every movement as he prepared coffee for the two of you.
One black. One vanilla oatmilk latte.
“I won’t disturb you,” you insisted stubbornly. “Promise I’ll behave!” You whined softly, stepping closer before lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt.
It’s not like you would stop him from reading, you just wanted to be around him.
Jungkook sighed deeply before finally turning to look at you properly. “I really can’t, baby…promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
Your pout deepened immediately, heart slightly breaking when you saw his brows furrowing at you.
With a defeated sigh, you gave him a small nod. “Alright.”
The second your shoulders dropped sadly, Jungkook’s grip unconsciously tightened around the milk carton in his hands.
His eyes lingered on your face, a tiny pout forming on your lips as disappointment clouded your sparkling eyes.
God, it almost made him give in immediately.
The last sleepover had nearly cost him his patience. That night, he forced himself to stay awake, reading until sunrise just to avoid looking at you too much while you slept in his bed. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on the words in front of him, his eyes kept drifting back to you.
Your soft body was sprawled across his mattress, your pretty face nestled against his pillows, your hair fanned out messily like a constant temptation pulling at him.
The next morning, you were disappointed to find him asleep on the couch. You assumed he had stayed up late reading and eventually drifted off there, too exhausted to make it back to bed.
In reality, he had locked himself in the bathroom, guiltily jerking his aching cock before the temptation of sharing a bed with you became too much to bear.
“Baby…” Jungkook said slowly, voice rough from exhaustion as he lowered the teaspoon and carton of milk onto the counter.
You pouted. “If you don’t want me sleeping over, then can I at least visit you every day?” you asked softly. “I really, really miss you, Koo. I don’t have school anymore and I miss coming here.”
Jungkook closed his eyes briefly at your words. The urge to take back what he said just to see your pretty smile again was strong.
But no.
Another sleepover meant another guilty night spent in bed, every time he can still smell your scent on his sheets, his hand would wrapped around his throbbing cock, burying his nose against the pillow because it smelled like you, his cock leaking whenever he recalls how your sleepwear would rise up every time you moved around his bed.
It made him so guilty, but it was better than corrupting you.
“Alright,” he finally sighed in defeat. “But I come home late these days, baby… you know that.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Lately, Jungkook practically lived in the library. He spent most nights surrounded by thick books, highlighters scattered across tables while he studied until sunrise just to become the best engineer he could possibly be. Everyone around him already knew how hardworking he was.
And you knew it better than anyone. That was why your chest softened instead of growing upset.
You missed him terribly, missed the days when the two of you spent almost every second together without responsibilities pulling him away from you. But at the same time, you never wanted to become a distraction standing between Jungkook and his dreams.
You had always supported him. Always believed in him. And the last thing you wanted was to become the reason he couldn’t reach the future he worked so hard for.
You smiled immediately, happiness softening your features now that he wasn’t completely stopping you from visiting him every day.
“Okay, Koo. That’s fine!” you chirped happily. “I’m visiting Mama Jeon too, you know!”
Jungkook chuckled softly at your playful tone, warmth spreading quietly through his chest now that your pout had finally disappeared.
Sometimes Jungkook genuinely feared he would eventually cross boundaries he shouldn’t… just to keep you happy.
And honestly, maybe he already was. Because after that conversation, you truly didn’t miss a single day at the Jeon's house during summer.
Some days you baked desserts in the kitchen while laughing with Mrs. Jeon. Other days you helped water flowers in the garden beneath the afternoon sun, your sundress swaying gently while dirt stained your fingertips. Sometimes you stayed quietly in Jungkook’s room, reading books while waiting for him until sunset painted the windows orange.
And every evening, Jungkook would come home to you waiting for him. A warm meal already prepared. Your bright smile greeting him at the door before he could even set his bag down.
Every single time, it made his heart feel unbearably full.
The sight of you peeking excitedly through the living room window the moment you spotted him outside. The way you lightly bounced on your feet before greeting him with a soft hug. The way you always asked him about his day first before talking about your own.
The way you asked what food he was craving just so you could attempt cooking it for him afterward.
The way you loved him through the smallest things without even realizing it.
And Jungkook kept falling deeper and deeper for you because of it.
“Are you gonna wait for Jungkook?” Mrs. Jeon asked one evening after finishing dinner. “You sure you don’t wanna eat first?”
You shook your head immediately. You always ate dinner with Jungkook.
He usually arrived home around five in the afternoon, which wasn’t too late, so waiting for him became another small routine you loved. During weekends, he sometimes studied at home instead, filling the house with the sound of flipping pages and keyboard typing while you quietly stayed nearby.
Your Kookie was very smart and hardworking after all.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Mrs. Jeon smiled warmly while cleaning the table. “Good thing he’s been coming home early these days.”
Early?
Your brows furrowed immediately. “Early?” you repeated slowly, leaning against the table in confusion. “Isn’t that his normal schedule at the library?”
You knew Jungkook’s routine almost by heart, which was exactly why her words caught you off guard.
Mrs. Jeon nodded before taking a sip of water. “Yes, that used to be his normal schedule,” she explained casually. “But before summer started, he was staying until eight p.m because he wanted to aim for topnotcher.”
She laughed softly afterward, shaking her head fondly. “I kept telling him it’s okay even if he doesn’t become one, but my son always wants to be the best at whatever he does.”
Your lips parted slightly, realization crashed into you all at once.
Jungkook had been coming home early because of you.
Because you said you missed him. Because you wanted to visit him every day.
Your chest tightened painfully, you hadn’t realized his original study schedule changed at all. Hadn’t realized Jungkook was cutting hours from his studying just so he could spend more time with you.
The realization made your heart ache in two completely different ways at once. Guilty. And terribly, terribly happy.
When Jungkook got home that evening, he expected you to greet him the same way you always did. A bright smile, soft eyes, your little footsteps rushing towards him before wrapping your arms around him in a hug that somehow always managed to melt the exhaustion off his body.
But the second he stepped inside and looked at you properly, he noticed it immediately. The smile on your lips looked smaller than usual, hesitant, not quite reaching your eyes. And Jungkook knew you too well not to notice.
“I cooked teriyaki chicken today,” you smiled softly, quickly turning away from him to open the lid of the food on the dining table. “Mama Jeon loved it.”
Jungkook followed behind you quietly, his tired eyes never leaving your figure. You were about to grab a glass of water when his hand suddenly wrapped around your arm gently, stopping you in place.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked softly, brows furrowing with concern.
He was exhausted from studying all day, his navy green sweater slightly wrinkled, glasses a bit foggy, hair messy from constantly running his fingers through it. Yet the moment he sensed something was wrong with you, the exhaustion vanished beneath concern.
You shook your head quickly. “Just…” Your voice trailed off when your eyes landed on the small paper bag hanging from his other hand. “W-What’s that?”
Jungkook glanced down at the bag before looking back at you carefully. “Are you okay, baby?” he asked again, quieter this time.
With shaky hands, you slowly reached for the paper bag in his hand.
Blueberry cheesecake.
Tears instantly welled in your eyes at the sight of it, your heart aching so badly it almost overwhelmed you.
“K-Koo…” your lips trembled softly as tears blurred your vision.
Jungkook’s eyes widened immediately. “Hey, hey—” he quickly set the paper bag down before gently holding your arms, thumbs soothing over your skin.
“What’s wrong with my baby, hmm?” he whispered softly, crouching down so he could properly look at your face.
And God, he looked so handsome like this. Tired but still so soft for you.
His sleepy doe eyes behind his glasses, messy hair falling over his forehead, large hands holding you so carefully like you were something fragile enough to crack beneath his touch.
You lowered your gaze, lips forming into a pout. “Y-You were coming home early for me…” you whispered quietly, guilt curling painfully inside you. “You don’t have to do that, Koo.”
Jungkook’s thick brows furrowed deeply. “Is that why you’re crying?”
Avoiding his gaze, you nodded slowly while staring down at your own fingers. Jungkook looked at you for a moment before gently tilting your chin upward, forcing your eyes back to his. Amusement slowly softened his tired features despite the concern still lingering there.
“Stop pouting.” he bit his lower lip, a low chuckle escaping beneath his breath as he listend to your tiny sniffles, almost relieved that his poor little baby was crying over something he didn’t even consider serious.
“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you protested, weakly hitting his chest. “We’re talking about your future here! Why would you do that?”
He caught your hand easily before you could hit him again, fingers wrapping around your fist while his thumb slowly traced circles against your skin. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he murmured softly. “I can handle my studies just fine, okay?”
You frowned harder instead. “But you’re coming home early, Koo. How is that good?”
You tried hitting him again, but Jungkook only tightened his hold around your wrist, enough to stop you without hurting you.
He leaned closer, lowering his head until your faces were only inches apart, as if getting nearer would somehow make you understand him better.
“Need to see my baby for motivation,” he admitted softly.
Your heartbeat stumbled violently inside your chest. Jungkook grabbed the paper bag again before carefully placing it into your hands. “So I can work hard,” he continued quietly, eyes never leaving yours, “and buy you all the things and blueberry cheesecakes you want.”
Your eyes widened instantly, heat rushing across your cheeks and ears while your heart pounded so loudly it almost frightened you.
“Do you want that?” Jungkook asked gently, his eyes lowering to your quivering lips.
“O-Of course I do, but I swear—”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” he interrupted quietly, like your answer alone was enough for him.
Enough to make every sacrifice worth it.
When uni started again, you still never missed the chance to visit Jungkook whenever school wasn’t too hectic, and whenever days passed without seeing you, he would be the one visiting instead.
At first, you tried giving him space because of the boards, but Jungkook always insisted on meeting somehow. Like your presence alone kept him going. Like every sleepless night, every exhausting study session, and every struggle he endured became worth it the second he saw your smile waiting for him at the end of the day.
Only sleepovers of course is where he drawled the line.
Sometimes, while staring at blueprints and thick documents until dawn, Jungkook would imagine finally succeeding, finally becoming the best engineer he could be, earning enough money to spoil his baby with everything you wanted. And somehow, those thoughts alone were enough to keep him going.
At twenty-one and twenty-six, both of you had changed so much from the children you once were.
The boyish softness he used to carry had long disappeared, replaced by tattoos and piercings that contrasted almost unfairly against the intelligent image everyone had of him.
His once lean frame broadened into toned muscles that stretched beneath his shirts, shoulders wider now, veins more prominent across his hands and arms. The boy who once ate lollipops while building legos now smoked cigarettes absentmindedly after stressful nights at work.
And the engineering student who used to stay awake studying until sunrise had officially become the topnotcher everyone admired.
You still remembered the exact moment he first mentioned wanting his arms decorated. You used to tease him constantly for being such a nerd, especially with his glasses, organized notes and old obsession with building legos.
Which was exactly why you nearly choked in surprise the first time he casually mentioned wanting tattoos and piercings.
“Huh? Really?” you immediately sat up straighter from the picnic mat, staring at him with wide eyes.
The two of you were spending the afternoon at the park, sunlight pouring warmly across the grass while snacks and drinks were scattered around your little picnic setup. Jungkook looked unfairly handsome sitting there beneath the sun, sleeves pushed slightly upward, dark hair messy from the breeze, soft eyes following your every move.
“Yeah,” he answered casually. “I also plan on getting piercings.” he tilted his head, waiting for your opinion.
“You are not serious,” you gasped loudly, quickly scooting closer towards him in disbelief.
Jungkook glanced down instinctively the moment your body moved closer to his. You were wearing a short pastel sundress perfect for the sunny weather, your hair tied into a loose side braid while your glossy lips formed into the cutest pout he had ever seen.
He swallowed harshly before quickly looking away. Sometimes it genuinely amazed him how you could still sit this close to him so innocently while he struggled to keep his thoughts clean.
“And tattoos?” you continued dramatically, eyes sparkling with excitement now. “Like… what kind? This is bomb info, Koo. Thought you were too nerdy for that.” you teased.
The thing is, he never forgot that moment—the time you were shopping for toys and spotted a limited-edition Ken doll with sleeve tattoos, immediately saying how good Ken would look beside Barbie. His little child mind, his wide doe eyes, quietly took that in and stored it somewhere deep.
And somewhere in that simple, fleeting comment, his stupid lego heart decided that when he grew up, he wanted tattoos too.
So Jungkook would look good beside his Y/N.
Jungkook pouted slightly at your teasing. “Thought they looked pretty,” he admitted shyly. “I think I want my arms decorated.”
Your eyes widened immediately. “That’s a baddie move right there!” you giggled.
Without hesitation, you grabbed his right arm excitedly, examining it carefully like you were already planning the tattoos yourself.
Jungkook stared down at your smaller hands wrapped around his arm, heart beating strangely harder inside his chest while your soft perfume drifted towards him beneath the warm summer air.
He bit his lower lip, staring at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “You think I’ll look good with them?” he drawled lazily.
You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Course you will! You’ll be a baddie nerd,” you teased, fingers lightly grazing the muscles of his arm.
Jungkook’s eyes slowly softened at your touch, his gaze growing hazier by the second. Not because he was tired, but because you were intoxicating him again.
“Stop calling me a nerd,” he groaned, though there wasn’t a single ounce of annoyance in his voice. If anything, his tone sounded far too fond to be offended.
“You are,” you giggled immediately, poking his cheek playfully. “You’re so smart. My smart Koo.”
Before he could respond, you suddenly stole the glasses off his face, laughing to yourself while slipping them onto your own nose. The prescription immediately blurred your vision, making you squint dramatically while Jungkook stared at you in complete adoration.
“Hello,” you mimicked in a deeper voice, trying to imitate him. “I’m Jungkook and I love math.”
You burst into laughter at your own joke while Jungkook only watched you. God, you looked so cute wearing his glasses.
“Baby, stop it,” he chuckled softly, finally reaching towards you to take them back.
You quickly leaned away from him with another laugh, refusing to give them up. Jungkook sighed through a smile before grabbing your waist without thinking, pulling you closer against him, wrapping his arms around your waist while you squealed in surprise.
“Koo!” you giggled loudly, twisting your body away so he couldn’t reach your face. But in the motion, your neck tilted back, your throat exposed right in front of him.
His eyes narrowed, staring at the soft skin of your neck as he bit his lower lip hard, leaning in closer… his pointed nose slowly grazed your skin, his eyes fluttering shut.
Fuck.
“You smell good,” he whispered, already distracted.
Since you and Jungkook were close, you didn’t think much of it, still giggling as you tried to dodge him, unconsciously giving him more access to your neck. “Koo! That tickles.”
He was getting lost in it, inhaling your scent like he was getting addicted, his nose brushing down towards your collarbones.
You were moving too much, wriggling in his hold, but his hands on your waist only tightened. “Stop moving,” he groaned, now pressing soft kisses along your throat, his nose burying deeper against your skin.
When a soft gasp escaped you, he stopped immediately, like he’d been pulled out of a trance. His jaw tensed as realization hit him, fear flickering across his expression at the thought that he might have made you uncomfortable.
But you were still oblivious, treating it like nothing more than a game so he wouldn’t get his glasses back, unaware that his soft kisses had already crossed a line—no longer innocent like the soft shallow kisses you shared when you were little.
“Let’s go home,” he suddenly muttered, gently pushing you away from him while clearing his throat.
“What?” your giggles slowly faded, confusion replacing the smile on your face. “Why?”
You carefully removed his glasses from your face, leaning closer to place them back on him properly, but Jungkook instinctively moved back slightly before you could.
Your expression fell immediately.
“A-Are you mad?” you asked quietly, lips forming into a small frown.
Jungkook swallowed harshly at the sight. “I’m not,” he answered quickly, taking the glasses from your hands this time before putting them back on himself.
But your frown only deepened. “Then why do you suddenly wanna go home?” you asked, sadness creeping into your tone so naturally.
Jungkook nearly groaned out loud. He wanted to kiss you so bad.
Wanted to pin you down against the picnic mat beneath the warm sunlight and lose himself completely in you. His body was reacting so badly to you that it was becoming painful to sit this close without crossing boundaries he had no right crossing.
Still, even while it was slowly killing him, Jungkook reached for your hand again. His thumb traced slow circles against the back of your palm, the familiar motion instantly soothing you the way it always did.
“I don’t,” he sighed quietly. “I just-”
“Don’t be mad, Koo… please?” you murmured softly, tilting your head slightly to peek at his face while your eyes stayed focused on his hands holding yours.
Fuck. He was so hard.
“I’m not,” he groaned, trying to smile at you despite the chaos inside him. “You know I won’t get mad at my baby.”
Piercings and tattoos suited Jungkook almost unfairly well. He looked more manly now, sharper in a way that made people stare a second too long without realizing it.
The ink on his right arm wrapped around his skin like it had always belonged there, and the silver piercings he wore caught the light whenever he moved, subtle flashes that only made his presence more noticeable. The lip ring sat against his lower lip in a way that somehow emphasized his natural pout, softening the intensity of his face just enough to be dangerous. And yet, despite all of it, he still wore his glasses when he needed to work, the familiar frames making him look serious and composed while his eyes still carried the same quiet shine they always had when you were kids.
After passing the boards, everything had changed quickly for him. Phone calls from companies came one after another, clients stacking up so fast it barely gave him time to breathe. Within a short span of time, Jungkook had saved enough to buy a brand new house for his parents, choosing to live alone in his childhood home afterward.
It was almost ironic, how the boy who once built lego structures on a small table was now designing real ones for a living, turning imagination into something tangible and permanent.
Not realizing he wasn’t just building things with his hands—but quietly building a lego heart of his own while watching you grow, piece by piece, until you became the only design that ever made sense.
On his first payday, he didn’t think twice about how to spend it. He took you out to your favorite restaurant, the same one you used to mention randomly in passing, and spoiled you with gifts you didn’t even ask for.
Because that was always his dream in the end.
At twenty-one, you had stayed mostly the same… still girly, still drawn to pastel pinks and soft colors, still wearing dresses that made you look like you stepped out of a memory he refused to forget. Your body had also changed in ways that made you more aware of yourself, curves developing naturally and beautifully.
In college, people noticed you too. A lot of them, actually.
Guys who tried a little too hard to make you laugh, to impress you, to take up space in your attention the way they wanted. You went on dates here and there, curious more than anything, but none of them ever stuck.
None of them ever felt right.
You were laying on Jungkook’s bed while he worked at his desk, fingers playing with his pillows as you babbled about college life.
About lectures, assignments, and then, eventually, about the guys who kept asking you out.
“He's not even bad, I guess,” you said with a small shrug, “just… kind of clingy? I tried to give him a shot cause he's kinda cute you know.” you giggled.
Jungkook had always been the one person you could talk to without filtering your words, without rehearsing your tone or worrying how you sounded.
So you kept going, still unaware of the way his pen had slowed in his hand, or how his gaze had subtly shifted towards you instead of the papers and laptop on his desk.
He didn’t interrupt you. Instead, he just listened, nodding occasionally, offering soft hums at the right moments like he always knew how to make you feel heard.
He didn’t want to hold you back. You weren’t his.
Instead, Jungkook kept his distance exactly where it needed to be.
He even asked questions sometimes—small ones, careful ones—because he wanted to understand, wanted to know what kind of people were entering your life.
Not to control it. Never to control it. Just to make sure you were okay. To make sure no one hurt you.
And every time you smiled about something new, every time you tried something different, he swallowed whatever it did to him and smiled back.
Because loving you, for him, had never been about possession.
It’s about standing at the edge of something he desperately wanted to step into, and choosing not to, again and again, because you deserved freedom more than you deserved him holding you too tightly.
Even when it hurts.
“Do you plan on going on a date with him again?” he rasped, eyes still fixed on his laptop even though the words on the screen had long stopped making sense.
You rolled your eyes. “No! Like I said, he’s so clingy,” you groaned dramatically, turning onto your side. “He kept texting me during class too. And he was kinda touchy.”
Jungkook froze, Touchy.
He raised a brow, slowly… he turned his swivel chair away from his desk to face you fully.
“Say that again,” he commanded.
You blinked, sitting up a little on his bed and smoothing out your pleated skirt. “Huh? Which part?”
Jungkook’s eyes dropped briefly to your bare legs before lifting back to your face. His expression was unreadable now, serious in a way that made your teasing mood falter slightly.
“Touchy?” he repeated, almost like he was testing the word on his tongue.
He knew you had never had a boyfriend.
Picky in your own quiet way, always rejecting people politely, never really giving anyone the chance to stay.
That was something he had always told himself was a good thing. But there was one thing you told him once that lingered longer than it should have.
Your first kiss.
You had laughed it off back then, saying it was just stolen during a stupid drinking game in high school, something meaningless, something you didn’t even care about anymore. But Jungkook had gone still in a way you didn’t notice fully at the time. And after that night, the thought never really left him.
The first broken lego piece in his heart.
Jungkook never acted on it. Because he knew where the line was, even if it blurred more and more every time he looked at you.
Every time he imagined someone else touching you, his mind would go blank for a second, like something inside him short-circuited and restarted wrong.
His love that was freeing, turning into something selfish and possessive.
Jungkook knows that he was no better.
Even if he acted like the responsible one, the always-focused engineering nerd with books and goals, there were parts of him he couldn’t control.
The desires, the sexual frustration, the way he had nowhere to put everything he was feeling for you.
So he let it out elsewhere… hard, rough and merciless—like he was always unsatisfied. Because no matter what he did, no matter who he fucks, it was never you.
“Well...y-yeah, I thought it was sweet since he seems to be very kind and perfect,” you started, shifting slightly on his bed as you tried to recall your date earlier. “But it was starting to get irritating—”
“Where did he touch you?” Jungkook cut in sharply.
His tone made you pause immediately. You blinked at him, a little stunned by how fast and firm it came out. “Uh… just my thighs—”
He cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration, jaw tightening like he was trying to hold something back.
At your bratty age, you had tried to explore, you would let them kiss you, let them touch you a little, only when you thought there was something there—some special connection, some feeling that made it worth it. But it always disappeared too quickly, leaving you bored, unimpressed, or just… disconnected.
And sometimes, in the quiet parts of your mind, a small thought would surface.
Why had no one ever truly impressed you? Why did everything feel like it was missing something you couldn’t name?
But you always pushed it away.
Because growing up, it had always been Jungkook.
What you didn’t know, what you never really saw—was that Jungkook had already fallen long before you ever started trying to figure yourself out.
He ended up fucking every women who looked like echoes of you—same powdery scent, similar hair length and color, soft features that almost resembled yours if he stared long enough. He didn’t realize it at the time, how every fling carried traces of you in them, like he was trying and failing to recreate something he couldn’t replace. He never stayed long enough for anything serious. Because none of them were you.
His lego hearts were never complete without you filling them.
“I mean, it wasn’t that bad—”
You blinked slowly when his gaze dropped to your thighs again, his eyes lingering a little too long, scanning like he was replaying something in his head. Instinctively, you tugged your plaid skirt down a bit more, suddenly aware of your own body in a way you weren’t before.
“Kookie—”
“Were you uncomfortable?” he asked, voice strained.
His hand came up to his temple, rubbing slowly as if he was trying to steady himself, jaw tightening slightly. You could see it in him clearly now—the tension he always tried to hide whenever it came to you.
You shook your head quickly. “No.”
“Come here.”
You hesitated for a second, then slowly walked towards him. “I swear, Koo, I’m fine—”
“You know what to do when you don’t want something, right?” he sighed, voice lower now, almost careful, like he was choosing every word with restraint.
He reached for your hand, holding it gently before squeezing them. Like he was trying to calm himself through the contact just as much as he was trying to calm you.
“Course, I do,” you replied in a small voice.
And you did. Because this wasn’t new.
The same Jungkook who used to patch your scraped knees when you fell in the backyard.
The same Jungkook who always made sure you weren’t left out when his friends came over. Even if his friends, Jimin or Taehyung teased you too much and made you cry.
The same Jungkook who would sigh, drag you away from them, wipe your tears with frustrating gentleness, and buy you ice cream like it would fix everything.
Like a good older brother who never let anything truly hurt his little sister.
You would come to Jungkook when something confused you, when something annoyed you, when something made your chest feel too full and you didn’t know where to put it. You would talk, ramble, complain, overthink out loud, and Jungkook would just listen. Always.
He never really stopped you from anything. He never imposed his choices on you in a way that felt forceful or strict.
Instead, he would give you advice, calm and steady, letting you talk yourself through your own thoughts. And when you reached the end of it, he would always say the same thing.
“As long as my baby’s happy.”
And somehow, every time, you did exactly that.
Neither of you really questioned it. It just felt like balance. Like the dynamic between you had always existed in that shape and was never meant to change.
His quiet dominance, your easy submission to his judgment—it fit too well to ever feel wrong.
“I think red hair would look good on you,” you murmured, sitting beside him as you absentmindedly played with the back of his hair while he stayed focused on your papers.
The two of you were at a quiet library near your school that day. You had told Jungkook you needed help with math, and like always, he gave in without much resistance. He finished his own work earlier than planned just so he could sit with you, his pen already marking through your problems with that effortless confidence that made everything look easy.
“Or maybe blonde again?” you continued, tilting your head slightly as you tugged at a few strands. “Remember when you went blonde?”
Ken Doll. He remembers.
Jungkook let out a low groan. “Do you want me to finish your papers or not?” he reprimanded.
You pouted immediately, leaning back slightly in your seat, your peach-manicured fingers tapping lightly against the wooden table.
A color he had picked for you before.
“I do,” you said softly, looking at him through your lashes. “I’m behaving.”
He raised a brow at you, finally glancing up from your papers. His gaze flickered down for a second—too quick to be casual—landing briefly at your neck before returning to your eyes.
“Then behave,”
You pouted… but still sat properly, letting out a small huff as you adjusted yourself in your seat.
Jungkook, meanwhile, looked completely absorbed in your work. His thick brows were slightly furrowed behind his glasses as he scanned your notes, lips pressed into a thin line while he analyzed every mistake. He looked older like this…serious, composed, almost intimidating in a quiet way.
His crisp white long sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, tattoos peeking through with every movement of his hand as he turned the page. Dark slacks fit neatly against his frame, and his hair was styled back with gel, though a few loose strands had fallen onto his forehead anyway, softening the sharpness of his face.
He looked like he had come straight from work without even stopping to breathe.
The lip piercing caught the light whenever he moved, a small glint against his pinkish lips as he exhaled quietly through his nose.
Everything about him felt controlled, grounded, intentional.
And sitting beside him in your school uniform—white button-down slightly loosened at the collar, plaid skirt resting neatly at your thighs, makeup soft and sparkly pink—you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t belong in the same frame as him.
Like you were trouble sitting next to something dangerously stable.
“Answer this,” he said finally, sliding a paper towards you.
You frowned immediately, staring at the equations like they had personally offended you. “Huh? I thought you’d answer it for me.”
Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek, clearly unimpressed but still patient. “You need to learn. Once you’re done, I’ll check it and teach you how to do it properly.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning back slightly. “But Koo! It’s hard, my head is literally aching from all these numbers.”
He raised a brow at you, expression flat but not unkind. “How are you going to pass math if I keep answering everything for you?”
“But—”
Your protest died the moment you met his gaze. There was that look again. Calm, firm, unbothered in a way that made it impossible to argue for long.
You sighed dramatically and took the paper anyway. “Fine,” you muttered, already giving in. “But you’re buying me oat latte after this.”
Jungkook’s lips curved slightly, good girl.
“Only if you get it right,” he raised a brow.
You groaned under your breath and finally focused on the equations, forcing yourself to concentrate.
Most of your homework was done by him, even when math wasn’t even involved.
And whenever Jungkook did try to refuse, you always found a way around it.
You’d show up at his house with his favorite ice cream, lingering by the doorway like you weren’t already certain he would let you in.
Sometimes you’d lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek, gentle and quick, like it meant nothing at all. Other times, you’d just look at him with those puppy eyes of yours—smiling in a way that made it seem like he was the only thing in your world.
And Jungkook would always fold. Every single time.
It didn’t even feel like a decision anymore. It was instinct. The way his expression would soften the moment you appeared. The way his shoulders would loosen, like all the tension he carried everywhere else had nowhere to stay when you were near.
If you asked him for the stars, he would’ve probably tried to figure out a way to reach them.
He didn’t just like you. He prioritized you.
You were very spoiled. Jungkook’s hard-earned money always ended up on you—whenever he got his salary, he would immediately take you out for a nice dinner, shop for clothes and makeup you liked, buy your favorite cheesecake, get you more books—everything you wanted, and half the things you didn’t even realize you wanted yet.
It made you happy. Every time you showed up at school with a new bag or a new pair of shoes, your friends already knew Jungkook had bought them for you. Every time you got perfect scores, they would roll their eyes, assuming it was because of Jungkook’s help and hard work behind it.
At first, your friends were very nice to you—almost overly so. They tried to get close quickly, always lingering around you, laughing a little too loudly at your jokes.
And it wasn’t hard to understand why.
Because they noticed Jungkook first.
They would see him picking you up from school in his black shiny Cadillac, the kind of car that made people turn their heads. They would watch his tall, lean figure step out, his arms decorated with tattoos that became more visible when he rolled his sleeves up, silver piercings catching the light, jet-black hair neatly styled, and sharp honey doe eyes that softened the second they landed on you.
Sometimes he would smoke a cigarette while waiting, immediately putting it down when he saw you coming. He wasn’t someone people could ignore. Not with the way he looked, and not with the way he carried himself.
And when they found out he wasn’t just good-looking but also the top engineer in town, already successful and earning far beyond most people his age, their curiosity shifted into something heavier. So they stayed close to you—not always for you, but for the possibility of him.
Then, when they finally realized you weren’t related, everything changed.
The smiles faded just slightly, the energy dropped, shoulders slacking like something they thought they could reach had suddenly been pulled away. It was subtle, but you felt it. That quiet shift in how they looked at you, like you had become the reason they couldn’t get closer to him.
From there, the judgment slowly followed. To them, you were just a spoiled girl, someone using Jungkook for attention, comfort, or material things. Something easy to label rather than understand. And over time, that assumption hardened into quiet resentment.
But you were never trying to be anything more complicated than you were. You were kind in a way that came naturally, warm without effort, too soft to notice when someone’s intentions weren’t pure. You didn’t see the resentment clearly, because you were too friendly, too open, too willing to believe the best in people. And that very same softness made it easy for others to either like you quickly… or envy you just as fast.
“Another bag?” Sana raised a brow at you the moment you walked into the classroom, eyes landing immediately on the new pink bag hanging from your arm.
You grinned without hesitation, completely unbothered by their stares. “Yes! It matches my nails, see?” you said excitedly, holding your hand out so they could see your freshly done manicure.
Your friends leaned in slightly, but the look in their eyes wasn’t as excited as yours. It was something sharper…envy, carefully disguised under curiosity.
“Was your nails paid by Jungkook?” Riri asked, her tone slipping into something almost accusatory.
You pouted a little, tilting your head. “Yup,” you admitted. “I accidentally told him I needed a fresh set, so…”
Over the weekend, Jungkook told you he had just received his pay. You always told him to save it—a detail your friends didn’t know…but he still insisted on treating you to dinner, telling you not to worry and to just buy whatever you wanted.
In passing, you mentioned your nails, how you wanted a fresh set for the upcoming semestral break. You didn’t mean it as a hint for him to pay; you always tended to babble randomly around Jungkook.
But then he immediately handed you his card.
“Koo, you don’t have to…” you pouted, though your smile was already forming before you even finished the sentence.
Jungkook didn’t even answer you properly. His large hand simply took yours, fingers warm and steady as he guided you through the mall.
“What design are you gonna get?” he asked once you reached the nail salon.
You pouted, “Maybe flowers? what color do you prefer?” you asked now, giggling as you showed him your hands cutely.
He didn’t even hesitate. He always leaned toward soft, pastel tones for you, like he already knew what would look best on you before you even decided.
Light pink.
You nodded immediately when he said it, already excited again, rambling about adding tiny hearts and small details on top. Jungkook just watched you softly, expression unreadable in a way you didn’t notice, before he glanced away and told you he’d walk around for a bit while you got your nails done.
You blinked. That was new.
Because usually, when you were in treatment or stuck in a salon chair for hours, Jungkook would be waiting for you nearby. Either waiting on the couch or answering work calls outside the salon.
But this time, he left.
“Thank you, have a nice day,” you smiled at the staff, not surprised when they told you everything had already been paid for. That part was normal by now. Sometimes you even tried to sneak and pay yourself, but it never worked. Jungkook always stayed one step ahead of you.
When you stepped out later, freshly done nails drying as you adjusted your bag, you were about to text Jungkook when you suddenly saw him coming.
A little distance away with multiple paper bags in his hands.
Your eyes widened instantly. Jungkook lifted the bags slightly when he noticed you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he walked closer.
“Done with your nails, baby?” he asked softly, eyes briefly dropping to your hands like he was checking them properly.
“What’s that?” you asked, voice already shaky, excitement mixing with confusion as your heart started to pick up.
He handed you the paper bags, and you immediately looked inside, your heart thumping when you realized he had bought everything you had been eyeing earlier—the bag, the clothes, the makeup… it was all in there.
“Koo…” you said weakly, your voice trembling the moment you realized he really bought everything, even the lipstick you had only tried on for fun.
Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around him. Your face buried itself against his neck, hiding away like you didn’t want him to see how emotional you were getting.
“Thank you,” you muffled against his skin, your cheeks burning from how overwhelming it all felt.
Jungkook buying you things wasn’t new. It happened often enough that you were used to it by now.
But this felt different.
Because you had told him earlier you didn’t need anything. You had insisted you already had enough—bags, shoes, books still brand new at home. You had tried to sound firm about it too.
And for once, Jungkook had actually listened. Or at least, you thought he had.
Because instead of arguing like he usually would, he had simply taken you to all your favorite stores anyway. Letting you walk around, letting your eyes wander, letting you stop for a second too long at things you pretended not to want. You kept telling yourself you were just window shopping. That you didn’t need anything. That you were being responsible.
But Jungkook was watching you closely, knows what his sweet girl wanted.
He was unintentionally making you fall harder for him.
Your young, innocent heart once again threatened to climb his walls. Without realizing that you were already standing too close to where you belonged.
Jungkook chuckled lowly at your reaction, smiling when you clung to him a little too tightly, like you didn’t want to let go yet. His hands gripping your waist in place.
“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, voice close to your ear.
You finally loosened your grip just a little, pulling back enough to look at him. Your eyes were still wide and sparkling, cheeks flushed pink, lips slightly parted like you were still trying to process everything.
“I… I’m so happy,” you whispered.
His gaze softened immediately, heavy-lidded eyes dropping briefly to your lips before lifting back up to your face.
“Really,” he murmured, pulling you slightly closer again, just enough that there was no space left between you.
You nodded quickly. “So happy, Koo…”
The following school week, you showed up to class with the new bag already in use, carefully placed on the chair beside you. Your nails were freshly done too, and every time you looked at them you couldn’t help but think of Jungkook.
“You almost have a new bag every month, do you even know how much that costs?” Nayeon said, leaning back in her chair as she glanced at you with raised brows.
You couldn’t even argue with that. It was true.
Every month, it was either a new bag or a new pair of shoes, sometimes both.
“And those are branded,” Sana added. “I know Jungkook has a good job, but don’t you think that’s… too much?”
There was concern in her voice, but not really for you.
For him.
To your friends, it looked like he was just spoiling you. Babying you because you were childhood friends, because your families were close.
And from the outside, it probably did look like that.
Like you were simply receiving too much. Like you were just letting it happen.
But what they didn’t see was that Jungkook never hesitated when it came to you. Never treated it like a burden. Never acted like it was something he was losing from.
If anything, it was the opposite. And that was the part you couldn’t explain to them.
Because they only saw what he gave. Not what he felt when he gave it.
“If you keep on doing that, I won’t be surprised if he grows tired of you,” Riri said, shaking her head as her gaze dropped briefly to your bag like it had suddenly become something unpleasant.
The words didn’t land softly. Tired of you.
“That won’t happen,” you said quickly, a little too quickly, like saying it out loud would make it true.
But your friends didn’t look convinced. They rolled their eyes almost in sync.
“Even if you’re close, he’ll still grow tired of you eventually,” Sana added. “Especially if it’s always like that. He’s probably just too nice to say no to you.”
“I honestly feel bad for him,” Riri agreed, leaning back in her chair. “Those things he’s buying? Gosh, he could probably buy a new car already. Everything’s branded!"
The laughter that followed wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t kind either. It sat somewhere in between—light enough to pass as a joke, heavy enough to stick.
You stayed quiet. Because for the first time, the thought didn’t bounce off you like it usually did.
The dresses hanging in your closet. The bags lined neatly on your shelves. The shoes you barely had reason to wear but still owned anyway. The perfumes that smelled like soft powder and familiarity. The little pieces of gold jewelry he had given you on birthdays without fail.
All of it. All from him.
Your friends kept talking, but their voices blurred into the background. You tried to smile at lunch, tried to pretend you were fine, tried to focus on your notes later like you always did when your mind got loud.
But it kept coming back anyway.
What if he gets tired of you? What if he’s just too nice to say it?
You were so used to Jungkook spoiling you that it took you a while to even recognize the thought creeping in—maybe you were too much. Maybe you were asking for too much without meaning to. And once that idea settled, it didn’t just sit quietly. It spread.
The possibility that he might look at you one day and feel burdened? That the person you trusted most might start seeing you as a responsibility instead of someone he chose?
That possibility hurt more than anything else.
Because even though, deep down, you knew Jungkook wouldn’t easily do something like that… you were still afraid.
So for the following weeks, you changed.
You stopped calling him for help with your assignments. You stopped texting him every small thing that happened in your day. You tried to answer things on your own, figure things out without leaning on him, even when your first instinct was to reach for him.
You were trying, quietly and stubbornly, to be less.
And Jungkook noticed.
At first, he convinced himself you were just busy. School, friends, life—it made sense. He told himself not to read too much into it, not to assume anything, not to disturb you.
But then it continued.
“It’s okay, Koo. I swear I can do it by myself,” you said over the phone one night when he had offered to come over and help you with your assignment.
Jungkook paused at that, leaning back in his chair, one hand still resting near his laptop. He had just finished working overtime, exhaustion still sitting heavily on his shoulders.
“You sure, baby?” he asked more carefully this time. “What is it about? Maybe I can help.”
Three weeks.
It hadn’t even been that long. Not for most people.
But for you and Jungkook, it felt different.
Because since you were seven years old, you had always been there. Always reaching out. Always calling. Always texting. Even during vacations, even during trips, even during the smallest moments of the day—you were part of each other’s rhythm.
And he was used to it. Used to you.
He missed you in a way he didn’t really know how to admit, even to himself. Sometimes he would catch himself checking his phone in the middle of meetings, expecting your name to appear out of habit, confused when it didn’t.
But more than that, he was starting to overthink.
Because he didn’t want to come off as clingy. He remembered what you had said about your dates before. So he held back.
But you holding back too? That didn’t feel right.
Because you were never like that with him.
Always and exceptionally, his sweet clingy girl.
His frustration was leading him to pump his cock every night. After going home from work, he would lie down on the bed still wearing his glasses, not bothering to change his clothes or remove his silver wristwatch. With a grunt, he would pull out his cock from his dark slacks, spitting on his tip in frustration, pumping it hard and fast with the thought of you.
“Fuck, what’s wrong, baby?” he whispers, squeezing the tip of his cock to coax out more precum. His teeth sink into his lower lip as he imagines burying himself between your thighs, determined to eat your wet pussy until you finally tell him what’s been bothering you.
He wanted to please you so badly, kiss your problems away, wanted to fuck you so hard that all your pretty little head would think about was him.
The one-night stands and occasional hookups were not giving him a proper release. He would push the other girls’ heads down harshly on his cock so he wouldn’t see their faces, always fucking them from behind so he could imagine it was you. He would bend their bodies into positions that would make him think it was your sweet little body he was fucking. He always had the stamina to go for multiple rounds because his cock was always so hard even after he came, his mushroom tip pulsing and leaking for you.
It was so bad, so sinful, so dirty.
He wanted to know what was wrong, the urge to tie you down with his chains growing stronger. Yet he was afraid to do that to you, afraid to scare his precious little girl.
“No need, Koo, it’s an easy project. Besides, I have a girl’s date tomorrow so I kinda need to prepare,” you said in a small voice. That was a lie—you didn’t have a girls’ date tomorrow… but you’d rather stay at home than see him.
For the past weeks, he had noticed that he didn’t receive any of your random texts anymore, your silly calls for help with assignments, your usual chocolate chip cookies whenever you stopped by his house, or your clinginess to convince him to sleep over even when he would always decline.
The fact that you were going out with your friends this weekend was also very unusual. Although you still spent time with friends and other people occasionally, three weeks without seeing him at all, felt odd.
The chains of possessiveness wrapped around him once again.
“Can I at least stop by to see you tonight?” he almost pleaded. “I miss my baby.”
You shut your eyes tight, clutching your phone in your hands at his words. The wild beating of your heart betrayed you.
“I m-miss you too, Koo. But… maybe next time. I’m really busy,” you reasoned, hoping he would just drop it and let it go.
Jungkook groaned. Your sweet “I miss you” went straight to his cock, his jaw ticking in frustration as he loosened his black tie to regulate his breathing.
“Koo?” you said nervously when he didn’t answer, biting your lip hard when he stayed silent on the line.
“Where are you?” he rasped, his serious tone almost making you jump.
It was Friday, and you were rotting in your room. In fact, you had no piled-up projects or assignments due because you finished them all just to preoccupy your mind from Jungkook.
The urge to disturb him and spend time with him was strong, but you wanted to prove to yourself and your friends that you were not using him. You were wasting a perfectly boring Friday lying on your bed while thinking about… Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
“I-I’m in my room, why?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen. Don’t go anywhere,” he said in a dismissive tone.
“Huh? Koo, you can’t—”
He dropped the call.
Your eyes widened when you realized he would actually come here.
You quickly scanned your room, sighing in relief when you remembered you cleaned your mess yesterday. Standing up, you looked at yourself in the mirror—your cheeks were flushed, your hair a bit messy from lying down, wearing matching ruffled short shorts and a pastel pink spaghetti strap top. You leaned closer, checking if you should apply lip gloss or not.
“Ugh, why am I panicking! it’s just Kookie,” you grunted, pacing around your room, a bit excited that you would finally see him after a long while.
You brushed your hair, cringing when you applied a little bit of lip balm, debating if you should change your clothes or if you would look stupid for getting ready too much.
Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone beeped with a text.
Kookie: Do you want anything? I can bring you something to eat.
A loud squeal came out of your lips, and you immediately placed your palm over your mouth in case your mom would come check if you suddenly fainted or something. You read the text over and over again like it would change its meaning.
“This is the reason why no one compares to you, ugh!” you groaned to yourself, comparing his sweet gesture once again to all the boys you had tried dating.
You were about to reply when another text came in, not from him but from your good friend Hoseok, also a guy who had expressed his feelings for you before, which you rejected. He was good-looking, kind and sweet, but with his radiating energy and personality, you only saw him as a friend. You were glad he didn’t take the rejection seriously, though… sometimes he acted a bit too sweet with you.
Hoseok: hEY CUTIE! I’m downstairs!!!! Let’s hang out!
“What the fuck?!” your eyes widened immediately, rushing to the bedroom window only to see Hoseok outside your house, waving at you with a bright freaking smile.
You rushed downstairs and quickly opened the door, ready to scold him, but he only laughed at you.
“Hobi! What are you doing here? It’s late!” you hissed, grabbing his arm to shake some sense into him.
He only smiled brightly, laughing at your panicking tone. “Chill, it’s only like… 9 PM? Besides, it’s Friday! Let’s go out!”
You shook your head. Although he was very sweet and it wasn’t really bad to go out with him, you didn’t want Jungkook to see him here. The fact that you had just told him you were busy and now you had a friend over would make you look so bad.
“I can’t, Hobi- I-I have stuff to do,” you said, pulling his arm again, almost shaking it.
He rolled his eyes. “Since when did you become so boring? Unless…”
His eyes squinted as he leaned closer to your face. “Do you finally have a boyfriend coming over?”
“Hoseok!” your ears turned red. You were about to push him away when you suddenly saw a familiar black Cadillac pulling over.
Jungkook opened the driver’s seat door, his dark eyes immediately landing on your small hands holding Hoseok’s arm.
You gulped harshly and pushed Hoseok away. The way Jungkook looked at you made you feel small—his dark eyes slowly dragging over your exposed skin. In your panic earlier, you didn’t bother changing out of your sleepwear since you rushed out to scold your friend.
“Uhh, I think I should go.” Hoseok chuckled nervously, stepping aside when he saw Jungkook’s serious glare on him. The way Jungkook’s jaw tightened made it look like he could punch Hoseok at any moment.
With a bright, awkward smile, he quickly left, leaving the two of you alone.
Jungkook stepped closer, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “You were busy, huh?” Jealousy dripped from his tone.
“Koo—”
“Are you dating him?”
“What? No, he’s just a friend,” you panicked.
He raised a thick brow at you, stepping dangerously close and invading your personal space, leaning down to whisper near your ear.
“Then why was he leaning this close to you, hmm?” he mocked, his nose grazing your neck.
Hoseok had been close to your face earlier, but not like this.
Jungkook’s hands circled your waist, pulling you closer until you could smell his cologne mixed with a hint of cigarette—a sign that he only smoked when he was either bored or stressed.
“He wasn’t, Koo, I swear…” you pleaded, your hands clutching his shirt.
You gasped when he softly bit your neck, his hands gripping your hips.
“How about me? Would you let me be this close to you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with heat, rational thoughts flying out of the window.
You nodded almost immediately, eyes soft. “O-Of course, Koo.”
A quiet chuckle slipped from him, low and faint. “Yeah?” he asked, gaze lifting to meet yours for a brief moment before dropping again. “Why is that?”
“Cause you’re my K-Kookie,” you said shyly, the words coming out smaller than you intended, but honest in a way that left no room for pretending. It wasn’t just habit when you called him that—it was attachment, something that had grown with you over the years without you even realizing how deep it had become.
He groaned, squeezing your hips tighter. “Yeah? Then why are you avoiding your Kookie, hmm?” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your neck. “Been thinking if I did something wrong baby,” he grunted against you, inhaling your soft scent.
“I’m s-sorry… I just thought you’d get tired of me,” you said quietly, voice breaking as your eyes began to glass over. “I always cling to you Koo… relying on you like this.”
Jungkook stiffened, the fact that you would think about something like that pained him, when all he wanted was for you to cling onto him, to rely on him, to stay close to him.
His gaze lifted slowly, and the moment he saw your face properly—the way your lips trembled, the way you were trying so hard not to cry—it hit him harder than anything else.
“Who put that thought in your pretty little head, baby?” he asked softly, but there was a quiet firmness underneath it, like he didn’t even want the idea to exist. His thumb reached up instinctively, wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. “You know that’s not true.”
You sniffled, trying to breathe through it. “I-I know… I just got scared because…” your voice cracked again, and you hesitated, fingers curling slightly as you looked away for a second before forcing yourself to continue. “B-Because I really like you… and I don’t want that to happen.”
Fuck.
Suddenly, there were bricks in your hands you didn’t remember picking up… stacking themselves, one after another, forming something warm, terrifying and inevitable.
Your small hands reached for him then, hesitantly tugging at his shirt like you needed him closer just to feel steady again.
Jungkook exhaled slowly, something tightening in his chest at the sight of you trying so hard to hold onto him while thinking he might let go.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned, pulling you closer. “I like you too,” he said softly, so softly that you almost didn’t catch it.
Your glossy eyes widened, the legos he was trying to build were now finally coming together.
Like your hands had been there all along, quietly sorting through the scattered pieces he didn’t know how to organize, fitting them into gaps he didn’t even realize were empty.
And Jungkook just looked at you—really looked at you—like something in him had finally stopped pretending too.
Your mother had been pleasantly surprised when she saw him walk in, quickly turning into the kind of delighted smile she always had whenever Jungkook came around. After all, it wasn’t often that he visited you directly anymore—you were usually the one going to him.
The two of them ended up talking for a bit downstairs, catching up on things in that familiar, comfortable way that made it feel like he had never really stopped visiting your home.
And then, eventually, you brought him upstairs.
You were sitting awkwardly on the edge of your bed, bunny plushie on your lap while Jungkook stood near your shelves, quietly taking in the changes in your room. It looked different from the last time he had properly paid attention to it—more grown, more you, but still carrying little traces of the little girl he grew up with.
After earlier, your heart wouldn’t slow down, panic lingering beneath your skin at how intimate his presence felt in your room now.
He felt like he was finally your Ken now, but to you, he was the dinosaur to your barbie.
“You still have this,” he said softly, a small smile forming on his face when he picked up the small dinosaur he gave you when you were little.
It was cute, a pink little dinosaur he saw in the mall and gave it to you as a small gift for your eleventh birthday. It was sitting beside your bookshelf, along with some of your favorite books that were given by him.
You let out a small giggle, the tension in your chest loosening just slightly. “I actually still have some of your dinosaurs in my storage box,” you admitted softly. “I didn’t throw them away.”
That made him pause.
He stopped looking around the room and turned his full attention back to you. His dark eyes drifted over your figure, taking in the way your short sleepwear softly clung to your body.
The gentle curve of your breasts, the softness of your thighs and the bunny plushie resting in your lap—the one you insisted looked just like him.
Jungkook swallowed harshly, tilting his head to regulate his thoughts. “Then why is this the only one out here?” he asked, raising a brow slightly while pointing at your pink dinosaur.
You let out a small giggle, putting your bunny aside and swinging your legs a little where you sat. “That’s my favorite. You gave it to me on my birthday, and it’s pink!”
There was something warm in your voice when you said it, something soft and nostalgic that made it feel less like you were talking about a toy and more like you were talking about a memory you had kept safe all this time.
Jungkook’s gaze softened for a second.
His cheeks picked up the faintest dust of pink, almost unnoticeable if you weren’t looking closely. His tongue brushed briefly against his lip ring out of habit as his eyes stayed on you, growing heavier-lidded the longer he looked.
Jungkook took a step closer, the space between you shrank without either of you really acknowledging it, like it was becoming natural to be near each other again in a way that felt different from before.
His hand lifted gently, fingers brushing your cheek with a kind of care that didn’t match how intense his gaze had become. “My sweet girl,” he murmured, almost like he wasn’t fully aware he said it out loud.
You looked up at him, his thumb slowly tracing over your bottom lip, your lips parting on instinct.
“Sometimes I still play with them,” you said shyly. “but not like before, I just… talk to them sometimes.”
‘’You do?’’ His brow lifted slightly, but this time there was something darker flickering behind his gaze—interest, amusement, and unadulterated desire.
You nodded, giggling under his touch. “Yeah, I kinda find them cuter than barbies now.”
He shifted his weight, stepping even closer until his hand slid from your cheek down to your jaw, holding you there gently but firmly, like he wanted to make sure you stayed exactly where you were.
“Hmm, I miss playing with you.” he drawled lazily, his fingers twirling the ends of your hair.
You smiled, innocently nodding your head. “Me too!’’
He sat down on the bed, a tiny gasp escaping your lips when he easily lifted your body until you were straddling him. The way he moved you so effortlessly sent a shiver down your spine, both of your hands landing on his shoulders for balance.
“Yeah?” he whispered, leaning in to press a small peck against your lips.
Your eyes widened. It was so quick, so light, like a feather brushing against your lips. Heat rushed to your cheeks when you noticed how dilated his pupils were.
“Was that okay?” he rasped.
You blinked, and then, slowly, a small smile formed on your lips. Leaning in, you cutely pressed a soft kiss to his lips in return.
“Okay,” you giggled, your eyes sparkling.
Lego butterflies erupted on his stomach.
Jungkook took his sweet time with you. His kisses were slow, shallow, and soft, as though he was waiting for you to feel comfortable. When your lips parted slightly, he slowly slipped his tongue into your mouth, gently sucking on your lower lip and earning a soft whimper from you.
The moment he felt your body relax against him, he deepened the kiss, his brows furrowing as his hands tightened around your waist to keep you steady.
Your breath caught in your throat, the cool metal of his lip ring brushing deliciously against your bottom lip, slick with saliva every time his mouth moved against yours. Whenever soft sounds escaped you, he swallowed them instantly, kissing you deeper as if he couldn't get enough. The wet glide of his tongue against yours became the only sound filling the room.
“Koo…” you murmured softly, your fingers gripping his white long sleeves, a reminder that he had come straight from work.
When he finally pulled away, a thin string of saliva lingered between your lips for a brief moment before snapping. His lips were flushed and slightly swollen, mirroring your own, while his glasses sat faintly fogged from the warmth of your shared breath. And when your eyes met his, the dark intensity in his gaze made your heart stutter.
You giggled shyly and reached up to remove his glasses.
“It’s foggy,” you pouted, your cheeks warming as you held them in your hands.
Using the hem of your top, you carefully wiped the fog from his glasses. You were just about to place them back on his face when he suddenly leaned in and kissed you again.
The way he advanced so fast, like you were the cure to his hunger…it made you wet.
This time, the kiss was needier—hungrier. His tongue slipped past your lips as though he was chasing something, as though you were the only thing capable of satisfying it.
He kissed you with a newfound urgency, flicking his tongue against yours, no longer slow or shallow. Saliva gathered at the corner of your mouth as he deepened the kiss, turning it messy and overwhelming in a way that made your head spin.
You were still clutching his glasses loosely in your hand, but your grip tightened every time he pulled you closer, his tongue coaxing yours into the kiss again and again.
It still wasn't enough for him.
His hand slid to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair at the nape of your neck before tugging gently—just enough to tilt your head back and draw a soft gasp from your lips.
“Koo…” you breathed shakily, trying to catch your breath.
“Open your lips wider,” he murmured against your mouth, voice rough and low. “Wanna kiss you more.”
Your thoughts were already turning hazy, your body warm beneath his touch. When you hesitated, his fingers tightened slightly in your hair, the edge of his wristwatch pressing against your nape and pulling another gasp from you. Before you could gather your thoughts, he kissed you again, his tongue moving against yours before pulling back just enough to catch your lower lip between his teeth.
The way he alternated between sucking and biting made heat spread heavily through your body, your mind blurring more with every passing second. Your chest rose unevenly as you tried to steady yourself.
“Kookie-” you tried again, weaker this time.
He finally hummed in response, like he heard you but didn’t fully intend to stop. His lips moved from yours to your jaw, trailing slow kisses downward while his hand stayed tangled in your hair, guiding your head slightly to expose more of your neck to him.
“Wanna play with you,” he whispered against your skin.
“H-Huh?” you frowned, bewildered when you heard what he wanted to do.
“Wanna play with my baby,” he swallowed hard, tilting his head slightly as his fingers stayed tangled in your hair. “Do you want that?”
He gave a gentle tug, just enough to draw a small sound of surprise from you.
“C-Can we do that some other time?” you said shyly, leaning into him, your hands gripping his arms as you tried to pull him closer. “Wanna kiss you more, Koo.”
A low groan slipped from him at that, almost frustrated. He dipped his head and bit lightly at your neck before soothing it with his tongue, the contrast making your breath catch.
“But I wanna play with you, baby,” he cooed, voice softer now but laced with something teasing, almost mocking in the way he echoed your words from when you were younger.
You whined, your cheeks burning, your body already feeling too warm from him, from the way he kept holding you so close like there wasn’t any space left to escape even if you wanted to.
“But Kookie—”
“Please, baby?” he interrupted gently, lips pressing against your neck again, slower this time, more deliberate.
The sound of your breathing changed when he lingered there, and for a moment you just held onto him, torn between what you were saying and what your body was already answering for you.
When he finally pulls back from your neck to look at you properly, you’re already chewing your bottom lip, brows furrowed at his request, your eyes hazy and unfocused as you cling to him.
“Words, baby,” he said quietly.
You hesitated for only a second before finally nodding, your voice coming out small and defeated, like you didn’t really want to stop him but couldn’t fully say yes either.
“Okay.” you frowned.
He let out a soft laugh at your reaction.
“Is my baby girl sad, hmm?” he chuckled, one hand holding both of your cheeks so he could look at your face properly.
“Jungkook, please,” you whined.
“Jungkook, please,” he repeated, mocking you, amusement clearly etched across his darkened expression.
His eyes dropped slowly over your body—your clothed cunt pressed against his hard cock beneath his slacks, your breasts brushing firmly against his chest, your small hands tugging and gripping him for purchase.
“You’re so pretty,” he groaned.
His index finger traced lightly over your collarbones, watching how your skin would turn pink whenever he touches harder.
“So soft,” he cooed under his breath, his hand sliding downward along the curve of your chest, making you hiss softly.
You looked down at his hand. “K-Koo, what are you doing?” you said weakly.
His fingers drifted lower, resting near your belly button, dangerously close to your clothed pussy.
“Playing with you,” he said simply, head tilting as he looked at you with quiet amusement.
Heat spread through your body like wildfire, your back arching slightly as realization sank in. A liquid warmth pulsed between your thighs, your panties growing wetter with arousal.
“Koo, that’s so—” you couldn’t finish your sentence, a sharp gasp leaving you when his finger finally traced over you through your thin sleep shorts.
“I wanna play with you here,” he murmured, continuing to trace slow circles over your clothed pussy.
A soft moan slipped from you, almost breaking into a sob at the anticipation alone.
“Do you want that, baby?” he leaned in and lightly kissed your lips, eyes lifting to meet yours. His gaze was heavy, dark with need, but steady—waiting, still holding himself back just enough to give you the choice.
“Yes.” you gulped harshly, eyes getting heavy lidded.
“Yeah? you’ll let me play with your little pussy?’’ he whispered.
“Please…” you moaned, cheeks flushed red, eyes slipping shut as you lightly grinded against him, desperate for friction.
He chuckled softly, pecking your lips once more. “I’ll lay you down, okay? Gonna spread your legs so I can play with you properly.”
He guided you down onto the bed gently, positioning you beneath him and carefully parting your legs. You gasped slightly at the change in position, a wave of overwhelm hitting you. You were about to sit up again, but he quickly followed, covering your body with his and leaning down to kiss you softly.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered when he felt your panic, his voice low and steady. “We’ll take it slow.”
His left hand cupped your breast gently while the other held your face in place, steadying you as he continued kissing you.
You had never let anyone get this far before. You had shared a few lingering kisses, a few brief touches, but you had never crossed that line with anyone. The thought of letting Jungkook do it now sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting before your thoughts could catch up.
His nose grazed your neck as he breathed you in, his presence grounding and overwhelming all at once.
“Can I remove this, baby?” he asked gently, fingers holding the straps of your top as his lips brushed against your sternum, waiting.
You nodded, “Yes, please.”
He smiled, slowly removing your top and exposing your baby pink lace bra. A low groan slipped from him at the sight, and he quickly leaned down, pressing his lips against the fabric, his tongue teasing through the cup as your nipples hardened beneath the sensation.
“Oh, Koo…” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair.
His other hand was already on your breast, kneading it slowly as he worked you over. Soft whimpers slipped from your lips when you felt the fabric growing damp from his saliva, the outline of your nipple becoming more visible beneath it, clearly caught under his gaze.
With a deep groan, he pulled the straps of your bra down, exposing your soft breasts fully. His eyes darkened instantly at the sight.
“Pretty girl,” he mused.
‘’Kookie, this is so embarrassing.” you avoided eye contact, trying to cover your breasts.
“Shh, you’re so pretty,” he said softly as he slowly removed your arms from your chest, dark eyes roaming over your figure.
“Look at me,” he added, gentle—but with an edge underneath it.
When you finally did, your eyes almost rolled back when you saw him sucking his fingers, bringing them down to your right nipple. He pinched it, spreading his saliva before rolling it between the pads of his thumb and index finger.
“Oh my gosh!”
“You like that?” he murmured, leaning down to your other breast. He spat on the bud before taking it into his mouth, sucking it softly.
You were a whining mess, your fingers tightening in his hair from the intensity. It was wet and messy, a soft pop following when he released your nipple briefly, only to switch to the other one—his lip ring brushing against your nipple, adding even more stimulation.
“Mmph, that’s so good-’’
Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt his palm press over your mouth, silencing your moans.
“Shh, baby,” he murmured, letting out a quiet chuckle. “Need you to be quiet for me.”
“S-Sorry,” you said shyly, biting your lip as you realized how loud you must have been.
He smiled softly, pressing a trail of kisses from your stomach down to your belly button. “Good girl.”
You quickly covered your mouth when his nose nudged against your clothed cunt, inhaling your pussy as he lingered there a little too long.
“Mmph!” you shifted your legs, but he held your hips firmly in place.
“Baby, keep your legs open,” he groaned, his nose following your clothed cunt.
After inhaling your pussy like he was addicted to it, he slowly pulled your shorts down. Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his hands stopped you, guiding them open instead. The movement exposed the wet patch in your pink underwear, your arousal already seeping through and clinging to the fabric, your inner thighs slightly damp.
“So messy baby, is this all for me?’’ gathering saliva in his mouth, his cheeks hollowed slightly before he leaned down and spat onto your clothed pussy, watching closely as it mixed with your wetness. The fabric darkened further, your cute slit more clearly outlined beneath it.
You whimpered at the feeling, warmth spreading through you as his spit soaked through your panties. But the moment he leaned in again, your legs instinctively closed around his head, trapping him between your thighs.
“Sorry, I didn’t m-mean that,” you said quickly, loosening your grip and slowly reopening your legs.
He looked up at you, expression softening immediately, a small gentle smile returning to his face. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Just relax for me, yeah?”
Opening your legs wider, he leaned down and ran a slow stripe through your panties, moving from your entrance up to your clit, making the fabric even wetter beneath his tongue. His fingers dug into both of your thighs when you instinctively tried to move again, the sensation overwhelming enough to keep you still for a moment.
He was messily working you through the fabric, groaning softly as he pressed his tongue against you, his mouth trying to suck your clit to make it peek through your panties. The sensation of the wet fabric against your swollen clit was uncomfortable in the best way—overwhelming, and painfully pleasurable.
You quickly bit down on your hand to muffle your moans, but the sounds still slipped out regardless.
When your moans started getting louder, he exhaled sharply and pulled your underwear down, gathering the soaked fabric in his hand without hesitation.
“Open your mouth,” he rasped.
You hesitated for a second before slowly parting your lips, eyes widening when he slid your soaked underwear inside. The taste of your arousal mixed with his saliva hit your tongue immediately.
“There you go, baby,” he murmured, voice softer again. “All nice and quiet.”
He leaned in after that, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek like it was a reward. Then, reaching for the glasses on the bed—the ones you hadn't even realized you'd dropped—he slipped them back on before leaning down again.
“Need to see this pretty pussy clear, baby.” he said softly, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose as he looked down at you.
A low groan left him as he slid his hands under your thighs, pulling you closer. His head tilted slightly as he stared at your bare cunt for a moment longer, like he was memorizing the sight in front of him.
“You’re so pretty,” he bit his lower lip.
He used his fingers to part you further, exposing your swollen clit before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to it.
“Gonna play with you now,” he lowered his mouth to you, tongue slipping into your wet folds, collecting your arousal, tasting you slowly as he began to eat you out properly.
Your moans were muffled by the soaked fabric still stuffed inside your mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened, firm enough for you to feel the cold press of his silver watch against your skin, holding you in place as you squirmed restlessly beneath him.
Every so often, he’d pull back just enough to gather saliva on his tongue, before leaning back in to spit just above your hood, pulling your pussy lips apart so it can trail down over your clit. He’d spread it with his tongue, deliberately working it in, just to make you even messier.
The way he ate your pussy was almost the same way he kissed you—messy, pouty and needy. His mouth stayed slightly parted, expression focused, brows faintly furrowed like he was too absorbed in your cunt to care about anything else.
His hips thrusted unconsciously against the bed, his own restraint slipping the more you reacted. Every soft sound you made went straight through his cock, making it harder for him to hold back. His precum was leaking at the tip, almost fucking the mattress everytime your pussy squelches.
“Mmph.’’ you moaned, eyes getting teary because he wasn’t stopping.
The feeling of your clit on his tongue was addictive—how it twitched, how it reacted to every movement. He kept circling it, sucking, teasing, as if he couldn’t get enough… you were dripping so much that before it could even reach the bed, his tongue was already there to catch it, eager to taste every drop of you. The wet, dirty slurping sounds filled the room, loud and unrestrained. Every time you tried to wriggle your legs, he only pinned you down more, spreading you wider so he could eat your pussy properly, taking his time while adjusting his glasses whenever he paused to look at you.
Whenever he stopped, he’d either spit or simply stare at your cunt, his thumb pushing your folds apart just to get a better view of your swollen clit, already flushed and sensitive from his tongue.
“My pretty little pussy,” he murmured.
The moment he saw your hole spilling with arousal, he leaned in quickly, tongue already out, licking into you and sucking everything back in like he couldn’t resist it.
Your eyes rolled back, your teeth biting down on the soaked fabric, overwhelmed by the pleasure building too fast. Your vision blurred slightly, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intensity.
He was edging you on purpose.
Not letting you finish.
Every time you got close, he slowed down or stopped completely, pulling back just enough to watch you fall apart, waiting for you to settle before starting again. It was deliberate, controlled—like he was enjoying every second of keeping you right at the edge.
“Do you like playing with me?” he asked, voice muffled slightly as he stayed between your thighs, still looking up at you through his glasses.
You nodded quickly, too eager, your body still trembling from the way he was eating you out.
He finally pulled back and lifted his head, his chin and nose wet with your arousal. Calmly, he reached up to remove the panties from your mouth, his thumb brushing lightly against your lower lip as he urged you to speak.
“I-I like playing with you, Koo,” you croaked, cheeks flushed and slightly puffy, eyes glossy, lips red and parted in a dazed pout.
“Course you do,” he said proudly, a faint smile forming as he looked at you. “You’re my girl.”
He softly kissed your cheek, his right hand cupping your swollen pussy while his free hand worked on unbuttoning his white long-sleeve shirt. The belt at his waist pressing lightly against your inner thighs.
When he pulled his top off, your eyes immediately traced his lean frame. His shoulders looked broader up close, easily enclosing your space, his toned tatted arms fully exposed. The way his biceps flexed as he toyed with your pussy drew a soft moan from your lips, the sound escaping before you could stop it.
His left hand rose slowly, wrapping around your throat. The amount of times that watch had pressed against you tonight felt almost sinful.
“Told you to be quiet, didn’t I?” he raised a brow, tightening his grip just enough to make your breath hitch and your eyes roll back slightly.
Your cheeks burned instantly, embarrassed by how easily he pulled those reactions out of you.
You knew you had to stay quiet. Your parents trusted Jungkook completely—after all, he was your childhood best friend. He used to sleep over in your room without a second thought, and the idea that they might hear what he was doing to you now sent a sharp wave of anxiety through your chest.
But it only made you more restless. He was still holding back your release, keeping you right where he wanted you.
He buried his face into your neck, his voice dropping lower as he whispered just beside your ear, “Suck it.”
Before you could react, he slipped his fingers into your mouth. A sob nearly escaped you, your sounds quickly muffled by his long, slender fingers. “Shh, keep yourself busy,” he mocked.
You nearly gagged as he pushed them deeper into your mouth, drool gathering at the corners of your lips and trailing down his hand, dripping onto the face of his watch.
Meanwhile, he used his other hand to slide his middle finger into your tight hole, making your back arch from the sudden fullness. He was so deep already—his knuckle brushing against that soft, sensitive spot inside you, pressing just right.
“You’re so tight, baby. Is this pussy made for me?” he asked in a condescending tone, slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth so you could answer him.
“Yes, Kookie,” you gasped, struggling to steady your breathing.
“Yes, Kookie.” he mocked, squishing your cheeks with one hand as he repeated your words teasingly.
He pulled his middle finger out of your tight pussy, bringing it up in front of your face. “Spit.”
Still holding your cheeks, he waited, and you obeyed without hesitation, spitting onto his fingers. A gasp escaped you when he spread the moisture between his middle and ring fingers before sliding them back into your cunt, the added slickness making the movement even easier.
“Koo, oh my gosh…” you whimpered, his two tattooed fingers stretching you open.
He quickly found your sweet spot again, the pad of his fingers pressing into it and curling in a slow “come here” motion that made you leak even more around him.
Still holding your cheeks, he leaned in and kissed you—hot, messy, and unrelenting—his tongue slipping into your mouth as he fed you spit, stealing your breath and your sounds all at once. It was as if he didn’t want you to breathe at all, the way his tongue moved inside your mouth mirroring the way his fingers worked inside you.
His hard cock pressed firmly against your inner thighs, grinding against you in slow, circular motions as he kept you pinned beneath him.
When his thumb circled your clit, your body reacted immediately—your pussy releasing so much liquid that you gasped and trembled, watching in disbelief as you wet his hands and his slacks more and more. You tried to push him away, tried to protest, but his mouth only swallowed your moans while his fingers kept massaging that sensitive spongey spot inside you, coaxing you to squirt more for him.
Your legs shook violently, the moment his thumb shifted into a more deliberate rhythm, your walls clenched tightly around his fingers. Your clit pulsed rapidly beneath his thumb, your orgasm crashing through you in overwhelming waves that made your body feel completely unsteady. Your legs threatened to close from the overstimulation, but he kept them spread, refusing to let you escape. His fingers continued working inside you, pushing your cum, just so he could hear how wet you were.
Jungkook groaned against your mouth, you were so warm, wet and so tight—almost painfully sensitive. His fingers became slick with your release, coated in it as your body continued to tremble. When he finally pulled his fingers out, your pussy twitched immediately, still clenching around nothing, leaking more of your cum as your body struggled to settle.
You whimpered when he gathered the cum that dropped, only to push it back inside you. Your weak hands pressed lightly against his shoulders in protest.
“I c-can’t anymore… please,” you muffled, overwhelmed by how sensitive everything felt. Your pussy was swollen, pulsing, too overstimulated to take more.
He finally released your mouth. Your lips felt numb and swollen from his kisses as he looked at you, tilting his head slightly.
“You okay? You’re shaking, baby,” he said softly, concern in his tone—but there was something in his eyes, something almost teasing, like he was quietly pleased at how completely undone you looked.
He lifted his fingers and licked them clean slowly, eyes half-lidded as he tasted you. His cock was leaking so bad, clearly desperate to feel how tight you are.
He rose from the edge of the bed, unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes fixed on you. His hair was still a mess from your earlier tugging, his pupils dark and blown wide with desire, and the muscles in his arms flexed as he pushed his pants down his legs.
When he finally removed his boxers, your eyes widened as his cock hit his abdomen. It was thick, heavy, and impossibly hard, veins running along the shaft, curving slightly upward, the flushed tip glistening with precum.
He shamelessly rolled the foreskin back, stroking himself slowly… squeezing the base just enough to draw out more precum. A low groan left his throat as he kept his eyes on you, like the sight of your naked body alone was enough to push him over the edge.
The number of times he had fantasized about this—it was almost wrong.
When he placed a knee on the bed, your eyes widened again, that soft innocence still lingering in your gaze. Your legs instinctively closed slightly, your fingers clutching the sheets as if you didn’t know where to put yourself. Your entire body language gave you away—you were still inexperienced, still unsure, your reactions honest and unfiltered.
Everything about you made that clearer. The way you kissed him, the way you tried to touch him, the way you trembled when his tongue met yours—it all showed how new this still was for you. How your body was still learning what it wanted.
And it made him shake.
The way your small hands trembled. The way you whined like you were trying to fight your own reactions. The way you struggled to understand your own desire—it sent a possessive rush straight through him. The realization that he was the only one who had ever seen you like this… the only one allowed to touch you like this.
His expression softened as he slowly crawled closer to you. Instinctively, you shifted back, your spine pressing against the headboard as his presence suddenly felt overwhelming.
“You okay, baby?” he asked gently, his hands moving to your folded knees, easing them open with careful pressure instead of forcing them. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
“You still want to continue?”
He was hard—thick and aching…but he still focused on you, wanting you to be comfortable, willing to do anything for his pretty girl.
You stared back at him. He was still wearing his glasses, his eyes heavy with lust, though he was clearly trying to soften his expression for you. You gulped harshly when his cock twitched on its own, even though he had stopped touching himself.
When you didn’t answer right away, he smiled gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his other hand moved to fix your hair.
“It’s okay, baby. Do you want to rest?” his voice was low and raspy.
You wanted him so badly. In your quietest, most private daydreams, you sometimes wished you weren’t just best friends—that he was already yours in the way you secretly wanted. You were too in denial, too afraid to fully admit it, scared of what it meant and scared of losing him if you crossed that line. So you convinced yourself it was just confusion, just feelings being swayed by him.
But deep down, you knew. It had always been there—your childhood dream of being his princess, him your prince. The pink barbie to his blue dinosaur.
“No… I-I want to continue,” you said, immediately closing your eyes after, embarrassed by how unsure your own words sounded.
Jungkook stayed patient, despite the obvious tension in his body. Even with his cock still hard and throbbing, he waited for you, encouraging you to speak properly.
“What do you want, baby?” he asked softly, his weak eyes locked on yours.
You pouted slightly, reaching for his hand as he brushed your cheek.
“I want you, Koo… ever since we were little,” you admitted quietly, cheeks burning red.
His lips parted in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your confession.
He stared at you for a long moment, as though he were carefully processing your words. Then, gently, he tilted your chin upward, silently urging you to keep your eyes on him. You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.
“Is that true? My baby wants me?” he rasped, his heart pounding against his chest. The tips of his ears flushed a deep red as he searched your face for an answer.
You smiled shyly. “Want you, so bad.” you slowly reached for his hands, tugging them softly.
He let out a rough groan, immediately kissing you again, swallowing your gasps as he hovered over your body. He opened your legs wider, positioning himself between them as he slowly grinded his cock against your wet pussy.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered against your skin, his kisses turning possessive as they trailed down your neck. You could feel him sucking and marking your skin, leaving bruises in his wake.
The head of his cock dragged slowly up and down your puffy slit, the sensation making your body shiver as arousal built again almost instantly.
“Been trying so hard to be good for my baby,” he murmured like it was something unbearable to hold in. His hand kneaded your breast firmly while his mouth latched onto the other, his brows furrowed in focus as his tongue rolled over your swollen nipple.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as the crown of his cock pressed harder against your wet folds. His hips moved in steady harsh circles, his pubic hair brushing against you with deliberate rhythm. Precum mixed with your arousal, coating your folds and leaving everything slick and messy.
“Every time you went on your little dates, I wanted to tie you down so bad,” he groaned, his tatted fingers sliding down to spread your legs wider.
He lifted his hips and stroked himself once before spitting into his palm and spreading the slickness along his length. Then he guided himself to your entrance, positioning himself carefully as he lined up against you.
“Fuck, baby.” he looked down, letting out a rough groan at the sight of how small and tight you were against him. The tip of him was thick and flushed red, spitting down again, even though he was already slick with precum, trying to make it easier for both of you.
“I just wanted to be so good for my baby… guide you, give you everything you want,” he hissed, watching himself slowly push into you, his blunt head sinking in inch by inch. Even then, his other hand instinctively moved up to fix his glasses…watching himself enter your tight hole.
You gasped at the stretch, your walls clenching tightly around him as he entered you. The pleasure quickly turned painful—too intense, too unfamiliar—your hands scrambling for the sheets as your body reacted to the intrusion.
“Koo… it hurts,” you sobbed softly.
He didn’t stop. Instead, he widened your legs further, eyes still locked on where you were connected. His lip caught between his teeth as he slowly pushed deeper, watching your body take him in like it fascinated him. There was something almost consuming in the way he looked at your pussy—like he couldn’t look away from the way you were swallowing him.
He spat again, coating what was still outside of him before pushing in further. His thumb moved to open you gently, rubbing slow circles to ease you through it.
“Shh, baby.” he murmured softly.
You gasped loudly when he bottomed out—completely balls deep inside you. His mushroom tip kissing your cervix... your pussy was so stretched, as he filled you fully.
He cursed under his breath, the veins along his neck stood out as a deep flush spread across his cheeks and down his chest. His lips parted slightly, like he was finally relieved to be inside you.
“Baby…” he said weakly, barely able to move. You were too tight, and he could feel it affecting you too.
“You’re so tight, you feel so good,” he whispered weakly, arms braced on either side of you as he held himself still.
You could feel him throbbing inside you, struggling not to move. The way he looked at you—like he was caught between pain and pleasure—made your body tighten around him even more, causing him to twitch in response.
He kissed you again, harder this time, like he was trying to pull your focus away from the discomfort. His fingers moved down to rub your clit, and you whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as your body felt so sensitive, so fragile under his touch.
His kisses were messy and hungry, as though he were trying to pour all his frustrations from his hard cock into your mouth. When you shifted your hips slightly, he groaned sharply, biting down on your lower lip in response.
“Baby, stay still.” he breathed, holding your hips firmly in place.
“You can move, Koo… I want you to feel good,” you said weakly, trying to roll your hips against him despite the lingering ache. The pain was still there, but with the way he was kissing you and touching you, pleasure was slowly starting to return.
He shook his head, tightening his grip on your hips as he kissed you again, trying to distract you—but you didn’t stop. You rolled your hips anyway, chasing the friction you needed, his cock brushing against you in a way that pulled a soft moan from your lips.
“Baby,” he warned.
You moved again, slower this time, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
The moment you let out another soft moan, something in him snapped. He let out a low growl and pinned your hips firmly against the bed, holding you still before suddenly pushing his throbbing cock harder inside you. Thrusting deeper and deeper until your body bounced against the mattress, his grip on your waist tightening enough to leave marks, his palms digging into your skin as your body trembled beneath him.
“Go on, you wanted to be fucked like this. right?” he taunted, his voice strained as he angled himself deeper, his tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you that made your eyes roll back.
He tried to circle your hips against him, watching as you arched your back in pleasure and pain.
“Move your hips, baby… fuck me back,” he grunted.
You attempted to follow, but his pace was too fast and overwhelming, your body already slipping into overstimulation. Your moans grew louder as your pussy clenched around him, chasing another peak without even realizing it.
“It feels so good.” you moaned, fingers tangling messily in his hair.
Jungkook groaned, biting lightly at your collarbones in pleasure. “Yeah? Do you like playing with me?” he asked, rolling his hips against you, making your body jolt as your previous cum spilled out with every push.
You shivered at the way he said it—goosebumps spreading across your skin. The phrase no longer sounded innocent like it used to.
“I’ve been wanting to play with you like this,” he rasped, pulling out slightly before adjusting your position with ease, as if your body weighed nothing in his hands.
“Wanted to make you cum like a good girl and give you my well-done kisses,” he murmured in a praising tone, carefully turning you until you were lying on your stomach.
You moaned loudly when he entered you from behind. You tried to arch your back, but his body stayed close—hovering over you, keeping you pinned firmly to the bed. His tattooed arm circled your neck, not choking, but holding you in place so your face wouldn’t press into the pillow. His lips brushed your cheek as his hot breath fanned across your skin, sending a tingling sensation through you.
Then suddenly, your eyes widened—you heard footsteps outside the corridor leading to your room.
You instinctively tried to move, panic flashing through you, but Jungkook pinned your body down, your protests muffled beneath his warm palm.
“Y/N, my dear. Are you awake?’’ your mom’s voice echoed behind the door.
You wiggled, trying to get out of his hold, wide eyes and panicking when you heard your mom twisting the locked doorknob.
“K-Koo—mmph,” you muffled against his hand, trying to move, but he only pinned you down more firmly.
“What’s wrong, baby? Wanna stop?” he whispered lowly behind your ear, his cock twitching every time you shifted beneath him.
Jungkook slid his fingers into your mouth. “Is my baby a whore? hmm?” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he continued moving slowly, deliberately, every drag of him inside you controlled and unhurried.
You tried so hard to stay quiet, desperately sucking on his fingers to keep your moans contained. His other arm stayed wrapped around your neck, holding you just tight enough to make your head spin, your eyes already glassy and red-rimmed.
“Jungkook, dear?” your mom called from outside. Usually, she would scold both of you for staying up too late.
Jungkook didn’t stop. Instead, his lips grazed the shell of your ear, his thick veiny cock grinding and circling.
“So tight,” he whispered, dangerously low, his pace slow enough that every movement made your walls feel him even deeper. His crown brushed that spongey spot inside you again and again, drawing out your arousal until you could feel it leaking onto the sheets beneath you.
You whimpered, but he only pushed his fingers further into your mouth, keeping you quiet while he continued moving at that slow, torturous rhythm. ‘’Quiet baby, can’t let her know I’m fucking her sweet little daughter, hmm?’’
Your eyes rolled back, your walls clenching around him as he groaned softly, his lips parting in pleasure. Every time he pushed in, your body seemed to pull him back in even harder—your warmth swallowing him completely.
You were shaking, saliva pooling messily on his fingers as you moved your legs weakly, trying to stop his movements because it was getting too much.
When you heard your mom sigh and finally walk away from the door, Jungkook slowly removed his fingers from your mouth, immediately tilting your head up so he could kiss you.
“You’re so dirty,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and degrading. “Getting fucked in your childhood bedroom like a good little whore.”
You came so hard from his words, his dirty whispers sending you completely over the edge. Whimpering when he held you down to chase his own pleasure, your body hypersensitive and trembling uncontrollably.
Jungkook groaned, your orgasm making him twitch as he came hard inside you. He angled his hips deeper, pushing in as far as he could, his cock oversensitive but he didn’t stop thrusting, the sensation making him whimper as he bit his lip hard, pushing his softening cock deeper, his balls tightening as he spilled his hot load inside you.
“Koo…” you said weakly, wincing when you felt his cum being pushed deeper and deeper.
You were about to close your eyes when you felt him harden again, his cock throbbing inside your spent pussy. He suddenly pulled out and lifted your body up, your eyes widening when you saw him— red and hard again, his shaft coated with thick white juices from both of your arousal.
He pulled your hair gently, standing at the edge of the bed, urging you to come closer.
“Play with my cock,” he rasped, letting go of your hair to hold the base of himself, offering it to you.
You swallowed harshly, weakly wrapping your hand around him. His cock felt heavy in your palm, every vein noticeable against your skin.
“Like this?” you asked innocently, looking up at him while moving your hand up and down, rolling your palm over him in slow strokes.
Jungkook bit his lip, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. “Yes, baby. Give it a nice squeeze for me.” he praised softly.
You smiled, eager to please him, picking up your pace and squeezing his cock while keeping your eyes on his.
His lips parted slightly, jaw tightening at the sight of you. His cock throbbed in your hand, chasing another release, your hand soft and perfect around his girth.
“Suck the tip for me, baby,” he breathed.
You immediately obeyed, opening your mouth and taking just the tip in, sucking on it like it’s your favorite dessert. The moment he moaned, you tried to take more of him, your tongue sliding along the underside of his crown as saliva gathered at your lips.
He cursed under his breath, quickly gripping your hair and pulling you back slightly. “It’s okay, baby… just the tip,” he whispered, softer now when he noticed your teary eyes and flushed cheeks.
You shook your head lightly. “No, I wanna make you cum, Koo. Use my mouth, please,” you said in a small, sweet voice, pouting up at him.
He groaned lowly, the sound strained—like he was barely holding himself together. He swore he almost lost it from your pleading alone.
“Stick your tongue out,” he ordered.
You obeyed immediately, sticking out your tongue all the way out for him.
He crouched down slightly and spat onto your tongue, holding the base of his cock as he tapped his tip against it, spreading the saliva before guiding you back in.
‘’Put your hands behind my thighs, baby.” he groaned.
Your small hands gripped the back of his thighs for support while both of his hands steadied your head.
You gagged when he pushed in deeper, his grip tightening in your hair every time he pulled back. His tip brushed the roof of your mouth, drawing out a rough moan from him. Your mouth was spilling with precum and saliva, gargling sounds escaping as he controlled the pace.
His cock was so big and salty, his plump crown hitting the back of your throat. You twirled your tongue around his length, occasionally sucking the tip and spitting to make him wetter, tracing the veins with your tongue while your other hand moved to massage his balls.
“Fuck, baby. You're doing so good,” he groaned.
“U-Use me, please.” you cried, letting go of his cock to press it against your cheeks, breathing heavily before spitting on it and catching it with your tongue, licking your dripping saliva from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip, repeating the motion again and again while maintaining eye contact.
Jungkook groaned. You were acting like a perfect little slut for him. “Baby, you’re such a dirty little whore,” he said, pulling your hair until your lips parted from the pain. “Do you like sucking my cock?”
You nodded eagerly, trying to suck his tip again, fluttering your eyelashes as if to impress him.
“Like it so much,” you giggled, pressing a soft kiss to the tip before guiding his hand so he could use you.
Jungkook cursed, his patience running thin at how desperate you were, his eyes rolling back as he saw your inner thighs already dripping with a fresh gush of arousal.
Tears slipped down your cheeks when he pulled your hair to guide your mouth, his cock pushing further until your nose brushed against the soft patch of his pubic hair. He kept you still, his grip firm, as you felt him use your mouth like a fleshlight, whimpering harshly when he looked down and saw how beautiful and needy you were for him. With a final swirl of your tongue, he finally spilled inside your mouth, his cock pulsating against your tongue as you made sure to swallow everything eagerly, like a good girl.
When he released you, you almost collapsed onto the bed—dizzy and breathless, your jaw aching from the strain, your cheeks still wet with tears.
He pulled you back up immediately, squishing your cheeks so your lips parted slightly. Leaning in, he kissed you hungrily, slipping his tongue into your swollen mouth. He groaned as he tasted his own salty cum, swallowing it messily before deepening the kiss, licking into you until nothing was left.
“You okay, pretty?” he asked softly, fixing a strand of hair that had stuck to your cheek and tucking it behind your ear.
You nodded weakly, smiling at him despite everything, a little happy that you made him feel good. “Yes, Koo.”
As the sweet girl you always were, a part of you still lingered in uncertainty—quietly wondering if you really made him feel as good as he made you feel.
You had no experience, nothing to compare it to. Although you tried to please him as best you could, you were still unsure, a little insecure, your thoughts circling back on themselves in soft, persistent doubt.
Jungkook’s brows furrowed. He sat down on the bed and pulled you gently into his lap, concern flickering across his face as he noticed you avoiding his gaze.
“Baby?” he called softly.
He kissed your cheek, and although he was getting hard again, he pushed his own desire aside the moment he saw your sad little pout.
“Baby, was I too rough?” he asked softly.
Your cheeks burned as you fiddled with your fingers. “No, Koo… just—” you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed by your own thoughts.
“d-did I make you feel good too?” you asked, biting your lip as your gaze lifted to him—soft, searching, and a little shy—unable to hide how much you wanted to please him, how deeply you didn’t want to disappoint him.
He groaned lowly, his hold on you tightening as he gently rocked your body. “Of course, baby. You made me cum so hard,” he said, kissing your cheek again.
You pouted, a little relieved at that, your adorable eyes sparkling again.
“My poor clueless, baby.” he murmured, his kisses trailing down your neck as he inhaled your scent. “Your shy little kisses make me tremble, why are you even worried?” he whispered.
Slowly, he shifted you in front of him, lifting your legs and spreading them on either side of his thighs.
You gasped when you saw your reflection in the mirror across the room—your cheeks flushed, your skin marked in places from his kisses and grip, your legs spread open while he continued trailing soft kisses along the back of your neck.
“Look at yourself,” he murmured, holding your cheek so you faced the mirror properly, his dark eyes roaming over your reflection.
You tried to look away, shy and overwhelmed at how exposed you were, but he tightened his grip on your cheeks gently, his other tattooed hand sliding down to part your folds.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on you, while you could feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back.
You shivered when he licked up your neck messily, his other hand toying with your nipple while he kept your pussy open, your juices slowly leaking from your tight hole.
“Make me cum again,” he whispered, pulling your hood up to expose your swollen clit, his middle finger circling it slowly. “Rub your clit for me.”
Your eyes widened, your small hand shakily reaching down, his dark eyes following your every movement—like a predator watching its prey.
Your breath hitched as you slowly began to rub yourself, his fingers still holding you open while his gaze stayed fixed on your pussy.
“That’s it… rub harder, baby.” he encouraged, pulling at your nipples while grinding his hard cock behind you. You could feel his precum smearing along your lower back as he moved.
You obeyed, rubbing harder, your legs trembling as another wave of pleasure began to build. The way his tattooed fingers kept you open felt so sinful—you could see how pink and swollen you were from how hard he had fucked you earlier.
“Can you feel my cock, baby?” he murmured, his tip brushing against your lower back as his hips pressed into you more insistently. His tongue traced the shell of your ear. “You make me feel so good, I could cum just watching you play with your little clit like that.”
You came hard, your body shaking and gasping as pleasure pulsed through you in overwhelming waves, your clit throbbing rapidly beneath your fingers while his hand kept you open, making sure he could see every twitch and tremble.
Jungkook groaned behind you, eyes widening as he felt himself cum on your lower back, releasing so much that he had to pull you closer, almost trapping you against him. He whispered curses against your ear, grinding through his release until it became too much, overstimulation hitting him hard.
“Fuck, I love you so much, baby.” he breathed, pulling you into a tighter hug.
You smiled weakly, still catching your breath. “I love you too, Koo.”
You turned to face him, reaching for his glasses. He looked at you dreamily, pouting the moment you slipped them off his face.
“Baby, no… I wanna see you,” he said weakly, reaching for you again.
But you only giggled, standing up with wobbly legs, tossing his glasses onto your small pink couch.
“Where’s my nerd?” you teased, circling your arms around him playfully.
He smiled, lips still slightly swollen and red, looking up at you with soft, dazed eyes—completely undone, but warm, and impossibly fond as he stayed right where you pulled him. His hands settled at your waist like it was the only place they were meant to be.
“Still here,” his voice low and lazy, like he had no intention of going anywhere at all as long as you were holding him like that.
Blueberry cheesecake. The kind of sweetness that hits first with a soft comfort, then lingers with a quiet edge of something deeper—something that stays on the tongue long after the last bite…and somehow, like the final piece snapping into place…
the lego hearts he’d been trying to build for years were now finally complete in your hands.
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