will contain both series and oneshots. (mostly oneshots)
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MDNI!!! 18+ STRICTLY
f-fluff, s-smut, a-angst, ✅-completed, ✍🏼-ongoing
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worst behaviour by @luvismenu (SMAU) (series) (f,s)✅
-everyone knows you as the good girl/nerd. except you’re so fucking tired of that image. (and you’re also very… horny.) so when you decide to be bold and finally go after hoseok — things don’t really go as planned. instead, you end up tangled in a fake relationship with his best friend/campus favorite fuckboy: jeon jungkook.
extra credit by @gguksprincess (twoshot?) (f,s)✅
-in which jungkook can’t resist his star student.
steel & silk by @kurapikaenia (oneshot) (s)
-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.
oversteer by @jenyluv (oneshot) (s)
-Jungkook is your brother’s stupidly hot best friend who has been around since you learned how to read and write. He has always known where the line is when it comes to you. The problem? You don’t.
The Weight of the Crown by @mimisitaugu (oneshot) (f,s,a)
-Jungkook is the stoic and ruthless heir to the powerful Jeon Kingdom, and you are the princess of a realm forced into an alliance to secure borders. Bound by a political contract designed to prevent further blood, you are forced into a marriage with the boy you once loved in the gardens—and the man you’ve spent the last five years hating with every fiber of your being after an unforgivable betrayal.
webbed heartstrings by @focusonkayjay (twoshot) (f,a)✅
-For as long as you can remember, Jungkook has been the biggest flirt when it comes to you. Despite being the campus heartthrob with a trail of admirers and girls dying for his attention—his focus has always, inexplicably, been on you. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves friends, not with the way he shamelessly flirts and constantly pushes your buttons, but there’s no denying the way he gets under your skin, making your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. When you finally give in, after enduring his endless date requests and ridiculous antics, you expect something special, maybe even something perfect. What you don’t expect is to be left disappointed and hurt in a way that blindsides you. Little do you know, Jungkook’s time is split between charming you and saving the city. And while you’re questioning everything, Jungkook is desperate to prove that his feelings for you have always been real, even if his reality is anything but ordinary.
forever hold your peace by @seokbite (oneshot) (f,s,a)
-Forever was a long time to spend with someone you weren't in love with. Saying yes to Taehyung's proposal had been a mistake, one you didn't think you could walk away from in fear of destroying everything you've ever made for yourself. But, your heart laid with Jeon Jungkook, your grooms best man and best friend.
lego hearts by @ggukiebar (oneshot) (f,s,a)
-“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.
test drive by @cocoakook (oneshot) (f,s)
mr. jeon wasn't looking for a girlfriend when he hired you as a babysitter for his 5 year old son - however, he took a liking to seeing you in his own home, way more than he'd realised.
years between us by @outrokoo (series) (a,f,s) ✍🏼
They say having feelings for your brother’s best friend is never a good idea… But loving Jungkook feels like the easiest thing in the world. He’s been by your side for as long as you can remember, so it’s only natural for you to feel devastated when your brother, Dohyun, tells you that Jungkook is about to get married.
Argue or get f*cked? by @cupidsbling (oneshot) (a,f,s)
You get your boyfriend mad and instead of apologising, all you do is argue with him – so he decides to fuck the stubbornness out of you.
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will try to come back with more sooonnn hope you love these as much as i did
WAIT, I'M ON A REC LIST?! Ahhhh 😭💖 Thank you so, so much, you literally just made my day (and my whole week tbh). I'm in actual disbelief, what an absolute honor fksjdhgkjsd.
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
tags: idol au, established relationship, smut, possessive jungkook, jealous jungkook, angry sex, public venue, secret encounter, overstimulation, protective jungkook, soft jungkook after sex.
tropes: "everyone is looking at you but you belong to me", "overprotective boyfriend", "marking what's mine", "secretly hooking up in a public place", "he acts tough but he's a softie for her".
warnings: 18+, explicit smut, rough smut, public/semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, finger fucking, rough penetration, wall sex, marking / biting, blood (from biting), creampie / internal ejaculation, leaving the venue without cleaning up / leaking semen, wet sounds, overstimulation, risk of getting caught, jungkook is a jealous idiot but he's deeply in love, praise kink, post-orgasm aftercare.
word count: 7.1k
summary: You find yourself at an exclusive VIP after-party celebrating the end of a major award show, wearing a tight black dress and sharing a laugh-filled conversation with Soobin. Everything seems like the perfect night, until you lock eyes with Jungkook, your boyfriend, across the bar. His patience has worn thin, and his dark eyes promise an explicit punishment right in front of everyone. In the end, the cold marble walls of the bathroom will become the only witness to a fury fueled by jealousy, marks on the skin, and a wild possessiveness.
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The tight black fabric of the dress clung to your curves like a second skin, cut so low in the back that you felt the cold air of the lounge every time you moved. You adjusted the edge of the fabric, smiling as Soobin let out a clean laugh, leaning over to make himself heard over the electronic music vibrating against the walls of the private club. The venue was packed with celebrities, producers, and neon lights that tinged the atmosphere with purple and bluish hues, creating a dense, exclusive ambiance.
Soobin, looking impeccable in his designer suit, touched your shoulder naturally—a gesture of pure friendship that they had shared for years in the industry, but one that in an environment full of curious eyes seemed much more intimate. He spoke into your ear, his lips almost brushing the strands of your hair to beat the volume of the bass.
"Really, Y/N, if you don't stop wearing these dresses, I'm going to have to play your bodyguard all night," Soobin joked, keeping his hand resting on your shoulder while gesticulating with his other hand, which held a glass of champagne. "Half the club is devouring you with their eyes, and I don't want to have to fight anyone today."
You laughed, throwing your head back in an exaggerated gesture, and took a sip from your own glass, letting the liquid warm your throat. "Don't overdo it, Soobin. It's just a black dress. Besides, I'm perfectly safe with you here."
You tucked a strand behind your ear, and as you looked down, a sharp, intense sensation of warmth ran down the back of your neck. It was that sixth sense that activated only when he was around. Instinctively, you looked over Soobin's shoulder, searching the far end of the VIP bar, the darkest and most secluded corner of the private section.
There he was.
Jungkook hadn't moved from his spot in the last hour. His long fingers were wrapped around a glass of whiskey on the rocks, but he wasn't drinking. He wore a jacket over a black silk shirt with the first few buttons open, revealing the beginning of the tattoos that crawled up his neck. His jaw was so tight that you could feel the muscle's tension from across the room. His dark eyes, completely fixed and charged with a cold, possessive fury, were pinned directly on Soobin's hand, which was still resting on your bare skin.
Far from looking away when you caught him, Jungkook held your gaze. He slowly dragged his eyes up from your cleavage to your lips, and then locked them onto yours again with a wild intensity that made you swallow hard. There wasn't a hint of your boyfriend's usual sweetness on his face; his gaze promised explicit punishment, a warning that you were playing with fire. The contrast between the casual conversation you were having with your friend and Jungkook's quiet possessiveness across the room immediately quickened your pulse.
"Are you listening to me, Y/N?" Soobin asked, noticing your distraction as he gently ran his fingers down your arm to get your attention.
"Yes, of course," you lied, feeling your pussy suddenly wet at the thought of what Jungkook was thinking at that moment. You forced yourself to look at him again out of the corner of your eye. Jungkook had just set his glass of whiskey on the bar with a thud. You watched as he deliberately unbuttoned another button of his shirt without taking his dark eyes off you, as if warning you that his patience was completely gone.
You took a step closer to Soobin, seeking to tease Jungkook a little more, brushing your shoulder against his chest as you gave him another bright smile. "I just got distracted by the music. Were you telling me what happened to the producer the other day?"
Soobin kept talking animatedly about the new concept for his upcoming album, gesturing with his hands and smiling at you with that blind trust he had in you. You tried to focus on his words, nodded, and let out a soft laugh at the right moments, but the reality was that your mind was elsewhere. You felt the skin on your back tingling and hot, as if the air in the VIP club had suddenly become dense.
You looked over Soobin's shoulder to search for the dark corner of the bar again, but you froze when you realized that Jungkook was no longer there. Your glass was halfway to your lips. Panic mixed with an intense rush of adrenaline hit your chest. You quickly looked around the crowd of celebrities and purple neon lights, searching for his tall figure and black shirt.
Then you found him.
Jungkook had moved toward the VIP lounge area, right in your direct line of sight, just a few meters from where you were standing with Soobin. He had sat down on a black leather couch under a red neon light that cast dangerous shadows over the sharp features of his face. He rested his arms wide across the back of the sofa, stretching his body with a dangerously masculine laziness, and spread his legs wide in a completely dominant manner.
He stared at you with his dark eyes the exact second you discovered him. He didn't blink. He did not disguise it. He held your gaze with such wild fixity that you felt a sudden, wet spasm between your legs, soaking the lace of your underwear beneath the tight dress.
You shifted the weight of your body from one foot to the other, trying to maintain your composure in front of Soobin, but Jungkook noticed your nervousness and a sly smile, almost imperceptible and full of smugness, tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew perfectly well what he was provoking in you.
Slowly and deliberately, Jungkook lowered his gaze to your cleavage, running his eyes over the black fabric that squeezed your breasts. Then, he widened his legs even more on the couch. You watched as he lowered one of his tattooed hands toward his crotch, adjusting himself in front of your eyes with total shamelessness, revealing the thick and rigid bulk that already marked the fabric. He had a completely hard cock just from watching you interact with another man, and he was showing it to you as a direct challenge.
You clenched your fingers around your champagne glass so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your lungs starved for air. You watched as Jungkook, without taking his hungry eyes off yours, ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, slowly moistening it, promising you with that single gesture everything he was going to do to you with his mouth as soon as he had you alone.
"Y/N, are you really okay? You look a little pale," Soobin's voice brought you back to reality, breaking the invisible thread that linked you to Jungkook for a second. Soobin took another step toward you, worried, and placed a hand on your arm to comfort you.
That simple physical touch was the final trigger. From the couch, you watched as Jungkook's expression instantly transformed. The amusement disappeared from his face, replaced by a shadow of pure possessiveness and jealous rage. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened again in a brutal way. He held your gaze one last time, slowly nodding his head toward the hallway that led to the VIP restrooms. It was not a suggestion; it was a direct, icy order. If you didn't move right then and there, he was going to get up and force you out of there in front of everyone.
Your legs trembled under the tight black dress, feeling your pussy drip from the sheer anticipation of the punishment that awaited you. You set your glass down on a high table with clumsy hands and looked at your friend, forcing the most natural smile you could manage.
"Yes, Soobin, I'm fine. It's just so hot in here," you said, your voice a little higher than normal from the lack of air. "I'm going to run to the bathroom for a second to refresh my face and touch up my lipstick, okay? I won't be long."
"Sure, go ahead. I'll wait for you here," Soobin replied with a friendly smile, totally oblivious to the silent war that had just taken place behind his back.
You turned around, feeling Jungkook's eyes burning into your backside as you walked. You crossed the VIP lounge at a hurried pace, your heart pounding against your ribs with a physical, excruciating need to feel his hands on you. You stepped into the dark hallway of the restrooms, pushing open the door to the private marble cubicle with the absolute certainty that it wouldn't take him a minute to slip in behind you.
You entered the private bathroom and immediately leaned your back against the heavy wooden door, releasing the air you had been holding in your lungs. The silence of the place, broken only by the muffled hum of the bass from the music outside, hit you suddenly. You looked at yourself in the great black marble mirror; your cheeks were on fire and your breathing was so altered that the neckline of your black dress rose and fell erratically. You ran your hands down your thighs, trying to smooth out the clinging fabric, but before you could take a step toward the sink, you heard the sound of the doorknob turning behind you.
You instinctively stepped aside as the door opened and Jungkook came in like a whirlwind, slamming it behind him. The latch turned with a sharp, definitive click that echoed off the tiled walls.
You didn't have time to speak. Jungkook stepped forward, his face hardened by icy fury, and firmly grabbed your arms to smash your back against the cold marble wall. You gasped from the impact, but the contrast of the stone's cold against your bare skin only served to make your pussy even wetter, already dripping under your underwear. Jungkook crowded you, overpowering you with his massive body, forcing you to feel the stiffness of his erect cock pressing hard against your belly through the fabric of your dress.
"What the fuck did you think you were doing out there, Y/N?" Jungkook hissed, his voice so hoarse and low that it vibrated right in your chest. His dark eyes, completely dilated with rage and desire, swept over your face before locking onto your lips. His tattooed hands gripped your arms with a possessive force that made it clear you had no escape. "Did you enjoy watching him touch you? Do you like being looked at that way in front of everyone?"
You frowned, feeling anger and frustration mix with the intense excitement that had him so out of control. You tried to push against his chest, but it was like trying to move a rock; his muscles were completely tense beneath his black silk shirt.
"Jungkook, enough! I've explained it to you a thousand times, damn it," you exclaimed in an angry whisper, trying to keep your voice low in case someone passed through the hallway. "Soobin is my friend. I've known him for years, long before you and I started dating. We weren't doing anything wrong, we were just talking about his damn album."
"I don't give a shit about his album, and I don't give a shit about how long you've known him," he interrupted, closing the remaining distance to brush his lips against yours abruptly, without kissing you completely, torturing you with the closeness. His whiskey-flavored breath flooded your senses. "I saw how you laughed. I saw how he touched your shoulder and how he ran his hand down your arm. I know perfectly well how he looked at you, Y/N. That guy wants to fuck you just as much as I do, and you just stand there, smiling at him in that dress that marks every damn curve."
"He's my friend, Jungkook! He doesn't look at me that way—it's you who are completely paranoid," you countered, tilting your head back as he lowered his mouth to your neck, gasping for air as his clenched jaw scraped your sensitive skin. "You always do the same thing when he's around. I don't have to stop talking to him just because you can't control your damn jealousy."
Jungkook let out a guttural growl, a possessive sound that ran down your spine like an electric shock. One of his hands released your arm to climb straight up to your neck, wrapping his long fingers around your throat loosely—just enough to force you to tilt your head back and look straight at him, catching your eyes with an icy fixity.
"Jealousy? Of course I'm jealous, dammit. It drives me crazy that anyone thinks they have a chance with you," he confessed through gritted teeth, his ragged breath hitting your face. His eyes went down again to your cleavage, where your breasts rose and fell heavily from the argument. "You're mine, Y/N. No one else's. And it makes me sick to have to sit on a damn couch watching other men lick their lips while staring at your body through that fabric. I'm not going to share you with anyone, is that clear?"
"I'm not an object, Jungkook. You don't have to share me because I'm your girlfriend," you replied, your voice cracking because the pressure of his hand on your neck and the hardness of his cock brushing against your core were clouding your judgment. Your pussy was pounding in an excruciating way, soaking your lace completely, wishing he would just stop talking and rip your underwear off at once. "You can't expect me to hide in a corner every time we go out."
Jungkook barely softened his grip on your neck, but only to slide his fingers toward the back of your head, tangling them tightly in your hair to pull you back. His gaze became purely hungry, losing what little patience he had left.
"I don't want you to hide," he whispered, brushing his nose against yours, letting his lips graze yours with wild urgency. "I want everyone to know that the only one who spreads your legs at night is me. And right now, you're going to apologize to me for making me wait so long while you were having fun with him."
You didn't have time to respond to his demand. Jungkook shortened the remaining distance and crashed his lips onto yours in a wild, wet, fury-laden kiss that made your knees tremble. You closed your eyes tightly, clinging to his broad shoulders as he devoured you without a hint of patience, thrusting his tongue into your mouth to claim your space, savoring the champagne you'd drunk and forcing you to follow a frenetic pace that took your breath away in seconds.
With a jerky motion, Jungkook pulled your hair back with the hand on the nape of your neck, forcing you to arch your back and completely expose your throat. You let out a muffled moan against his lips that he swallowed smugly. He lowered his kisses down your jaw, leaving a trail of hot saliva that cooled suddenly with the air from the bathroom, until he stopped right in the curve of your neck, where your pulse beat wildly.
"You're going to learn to respect me, Y/N," he growled against your skin, and before you could process his words, he dug his teeth hard into the sensitive tissue of your shoulder.
You felt a sharp prick of pain that made you let out a gasp, digging your nails into the fabric of his black shirt. The pressure of his teeth was maintained for an eternal second, barely tearing the surface layer of skin until a warm thread sprouted from the small wound. When he pulled away, a perfect drop of blood ran down your collarbone. Jungkook looked at you with completely dark eyes, dilated by adrenaline, and a wicked smile appeared on his face. He lowered his head slowly and ran the tip of his tongue over the wound, licking the trickle of blood with an almost animalistic pleasure, tasting you as if you were his property.
"Mine," he repeated hoarsely, dragging the word against your ear as he left you trembling from sensory overload.
His hands wasted no more time. They went straight down the sides of your body, burning through the fabric of the clinging black dress until they reached the hem. With a dry, violent tug, Jungkook pulled the fabric up to your waist, leaving your bare legs exposed to the cold air of the marble bathroom. He forced you to spread your legs by pinning one of his knees between your thighs, forcibly separating them to gain space.
Your fingers clung to the edge of the sink when you saw his tattooed hand go straight down into your underwear. He hooked the lace impatiently and tossed it aside unceremoniously, leaving your core completely exposed. The first contact of his long fingers against your clitoris—which was already ridiculously soaked, hot, and throbbing with the lingering heat of the argument—made you let out a high gasp.
"Just look at you... you're dripping for me, damn it," Jungkook hissed, looking down, fascinated by the wetness covering your labia. "You were all smiles for that asshole, but it's because of my cock that you're so fucking open and wet."
He rubbed his thumb with direct force over your clitoris in quick, heavy circles that made you instinctively arch your hips toward his hand, reaching for more. Just as you were about to beg him not to stop, Jungkook curled two of his fingers and slipped them into your pussy, sinking them all the way down without a shred of mercy.
"Jungkook!" you shouted, burying your face in his neck as your vaginal walls contracted violently around his fingers, trapping them in your own heat.
He did not stop; he began to pump inside you with a fast, hard, and steady rhythm, matching it with his thumb, which continued to pound your clitoris relentlessly. The wet, dirty sound of his fingers going in and out of your soaking wet pussy began to echo off the walls of the VIP bathroom, mingling with your desperate gasps. You moved uncontrollably against his hand, losing your mind from the sharp pleasure that his punishment was causing you.
"You're going to cum for me right now, Y/N. I want to see how you come on my fingers before I bury my cock inside you," he ordered in your ear, increasing the speed of the pumping, driving his fingers deeper and deeper, looking for that exact spot inside you that made you lose consciousness.
The friction was so intense that you felt like you were burning inside. Your eyes filled with tears of pure pleasure and your vision began to blur. You felt the first wave of orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach, expanding into your thighs, which wouldn't stop shaking.
"I'm cumming, Jungkook... I'm going to cum," you groaned desperately, throwing your head back, pressing your buttocks against the marble wall.
"Do it, damn it. Soak my fingers," he demanded, pushing harder.
The orgasm struck you like lightning. You let out a gasp that was instantly muffled when Jungkook covered your mouth with his free hand, forcing you to swallow the sound while your pussy suffered brutal spasms, squeezing his fingers violently as you expelled jets of hot fluid that soaked his hand and wrist completely. You stood suspended in the air, panting against his palm, your body limp and completely defeated by the climax.
Jungkook didn't give you a single second to get used to the impressive length that filled you completely. Without pulling out, he yanked your hips back violently and rammed into you again with a sharp blow, causing your buttocks to slam against his pelvis with a wet, loud smack that echoed off the walls of the bathroom. You let out a high-pitched scream that was cut short when he started fucking you at a frenetic, hard, and ruthless pace, sinking into your pussy with an animal force that made you stagger against the marble sink.
"Shit, Y/N... you're so fucking tight," Jungkook gasped against your ear, his voice broken with pleasure, alternating his thrusts with a speed that was making you lose consciousness. "I swear it blows my mind how perfectly you fit me, fuck. No other girl feels like you."
You stared into the mirror with your eyes completely blurred, watching your breasts shake under the black fabric of the dress with each of his wild thrusts. Jungkook was staring at you through the reflection, his eyes bloodshot, completely out of control. The pleasure of having his huge cock sliding in and out of you at that speed mixed with the delicious humiliation of his words, making your clit throb with unbearable force.
"But I'm still mad at you," he hissed suddenly, his tone shifting to a much colder one as he thrust so deep it made you arch your back to the absolute limit, tearing a heartbreaking moan from your throat. "It makes me want to break you right here for letting him touch you. I want you to feel every damn inch of my cock so it's clear to you who this pussy belongs to."
"Ah, Jungkook! More… Harder!" you begged with a broken voice, losing your mind, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts with the exact same violence.
"Shh... shut your damn mouth," he ordered immediately, lowering one of his tattooed hands to firmly clench your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror while he delivered three thrusts in a row that made you see stars. "Don't make a sound. We're in the VIP area of the party. Anyone could push that door, break the latch, and walk right in."
The mention of the real danger sent an electric shock straight to your spine. Suddenly, a perverse and extremely hot fantasy settled in your mind, sending your pulse racing. You imagined the door opening. You imagined people in the industry—or worse, Soobin himself—walking down the hallway, calling your name, pushing the door open, and finding you exactly like this: completely helpless, with your black dress pulled up to your waist, your hips flushed red from Jungkook's brutal pace, and his huge cock driving in and out of your soaked pussy, making you squirt right in front of him.
The mere thought of Soobin seeing you being torn apart by Jungkook's pleasure, moaning like a whore for him, turned you on in a destructive way. Your pussy twitched in a spasm so violent that Jungkook let out a wild growl, feeling your vaginal walls almost strangle his member.
"Fuck, Y/N... how you squeeze... does it excite you that they can see us?" he asked with a wicked smile on his lips, instantly capturing your reaction. His words became even dirtier, brushing your ear with his wet lips. "Think of your little friend Soobin outside, waiting for you. Imagine if he walked in right now and saw you with your legs wide open, devouring my entire cock while I fill you with my cum. Would you like him to see us fuck? Would you like him to see how I leave your pussy dripping with my cum?"
The morbidity completely overwhelmed you. You let out a loud, undone groan, unable to contain the tremendous wave of excitement that flooded you. Realizing how loud you had been, you immediately clapped both hands over your mouth, pressing your fingers against your lips to drown out your next screams.
Jungkook had no mercy; he took advantage of the fact that you were completely disarmed and overexcited to grab your hips tighter. Leaning a little more over the marble, he began to fuck you from behind with an even rougher rhythm, pounding you mercilessly while you could only emit muffled noises and sobs of pure pleasure behind your hands.
You were completely lost, your hands pressed against your own lips to hold back the screams as Jungkook continued to charge at you from behind with a brutal cadence. Your buttocks were burning from the friction and your pussy was pounding so intensely that you felt like you were going to explode at any moment. The wet smack of each thrust resounded loudly in the black marble bathroom.
Suddenly, three sharp, firm knocks on the wood of the door cut through the air.
You froze completely, opening your eyes wide in the reflection of the mirror. Jungkook also stopped instantly, leaving his huge cock buried to the hilt inside you, staying completely motionless. The silence that settled in the cubicle was suffocating, broken only by his agitated breaths and the sound of your chests colliding.
"Y/N? Are you in there?" Soobin's voice came from the other side, strangely clear and close. "You've been in there for a long time. Since you didn't answer my messages, I got a little worried. Is everything okay?"
Absolute panic ran down your spine. You looked at Jungkook in the mirror, imploring him with your gaze to be silent. But a wicked smile, charged with a hot, dark malice, appeared on your boyfriend's face. Jungkook not only didn't stay still, but he began to move his hips again in an extremely slow way, burying himself and coming out of your pussy millimeter by millimeter, making him brush against your swollen clit in such a precise way that you had to bite your lower lip to keep from shouting his name.
"Answer him, baby," Jungkook whispered in your ear, his voice barely a breath, brushing his nose against your sweaty, wet cheek. "Tell your little friend that you're perfectly fine. But watch your tone, because if you moan, I'm going to push hard."
Your hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly that your knuckles ached. The slow rubbing of his member against your soaked vaginal walls was delicious torture. You swallowed hard, trying to stabilize your breath before opening your mouth.
"Yes... Soobin, I'm here," you managed to say, horrified by how shaky your own voice sounded. You paused for a second as Jungkook pushed a little deeper, causing you to close your eyes from sensory overload. "I'm fine... it's just... my dress got ruined and I'm trying to fix it."
"Ah, I understand," Soobin replied from the hallway, his voice denoting total innocence. He didn't have the slightest idea that you were leaning over the marble with your black dress pulled up to your waist, completely sealed around Jungkook's hard cock. "Do you want me to wait for you out here, or should I go back to the VIP bar?"
Jungkook's smile widened upon hearing his friend's question. To test your endurance, he thrust a little faster—not hard enough to make noise with the impact of your bodies, but deep enough to make you gasp. A high-pitched moan almost escaped your throat, but you bit your tongue just in time, transforming the sound into a heavy sigh.
"No, Soobin... go back to the bar," you replied quickly, the air missing from your lungs as you felt the hot fluids slipping down your thighs from Jungkook's movements. "I... I'm going to take a little longer. I'll catch you there in a few minutes."
"Okay. Don't be long. I'll save your spot," Soobin finally said, and within seconds, you heard the subtle sound of his footsteps fading away down the club's hallway.
As soon as silence reigned again, you dropped your head forward, resting your forehead against the cold mirror, completely exhausted by the psychological toll of almost being caught. Jungkook let out a hoarse sigh and grabbed you firmly by the chin, forcing you to lift your head so you would look at your reflection next to his. His dark eyes shone with a mixture of possessive pride and unbridled desire. He planted a wet kiss on your cheek, right where your tears of pleasure mixed with sweat.
"Damn, Y/N... you're a work of art," he praised you in a broken voice, completely fascinated by your submission. He gently stroked your hip before tensing the muscles in his legs once more. "You behaved so well. Talking to him with my cock deep in your pussy... You're going to drive me crazy. You're the hottest, most perfect girl in this damn world."
The pace became completely relentless. Freed from the paranoia of Soobin listening, Jungkook gave himself entirely to instinct, ramming into you with an overwhelming force that made you hit the marble sink again and again. The sound of his thrusts, the friction of his tattoos against your back, and the suffocating heat of the bathroom dragged you to the edge of the abyss. You felt the climax building with savage violence in your belly, making you lose all track of time and space.
"Jungkook... I'm going to cum, it's coming, fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back, seeking his lips in a desperate, tangled kiss.
"Take it all for me, baby. Receive it all," he gasped, delivering three brutal thrusts that made you see stars.
The orgasm hit you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy twitched in violent, painfully delicious spasms, squeezing his cock with brutal force, imprisoning him in your own heat. Jungkook let out a completely animalistic growl as he felt your vaginal walls strangling him; the stimulation was too much for his own control. He delivered two final, blind thrusts, burying himself deep inside you, and came with a series of powerful jerks, filling you with jets of thick, hot cum that you felt expanding all over your core.
They stood like that for a whole minute, united, your chests rising and falling heavily, listening only to the echo of their ragged breaths in the bathroom.
Little by little, the adrenaline of jealousy and fury began to dissipate, giving way to that warmth so characteristic of Jungkook. He pulled out of you slowly, letting out a soft sigh, and immediately grabbed you by the waist to turn you around with extreme delicacy—the exact opposite of his roughness from just a few minutes ago.
He gently leaned you against the sink, supporting your weight because your legs were still shaking like jelly. You looked at his face; the hardness of his features had completely vanished. His dark eyes gazed at you with a devotion and tenderness that melted your chest. Jungkook looked down at your shoulder, where the small mark of his bite still glowed with a trail of dried blood. Extremely gently, he cradled your face with his tattooed hands and pressed his forehead against yours.
"Baby... are you okay?" he asked in an extremely low voice, hoarse but loaded with genuine concern. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping a strand of wet hair from your forehead. "Did I hurt you? Tell me if I was too rough or if I made you feel bad because of what I said... Fuck, I went crazy with jealousy, but I would never want to hurt you."
You smiled weakly, your heart pounding, but this time out of pure love. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm fine, Kook. I'm perfectly fine. I loved it."
Jungkook heaved a sigh of relief that seemed to come from his very soul. He lowered his head and began to pepper your face with soft, slow kisses; he kissed your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and then moved down to your shoulder, leaving a warm, prolonged kiss right next to the wound—silently apologizing through your skin. His hands slid down to your hips, giving you slow, comforting caresses that made your skin crawl in the most beautiful way.
"I love you," he whispered against your neck, pressing you a little tighter against his body as if he wanted to make sure you were real. "I love you so much I'm afraid I'll go crazy over you, Y/N. You're the only thing I care about."
"I love you too, Kook," you replied, hiding your face against his chest, inhaling his expensive cologne mixed with the scent of sex. "Much more than you can imagine."
They stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a few more moments, enjoying the peace after the storm. However, the reminder that you were still in the bathroom of a VIP club rushed back into your mind. You felt the warm moisture of his cum slowly sliding down the inside of your thighs, reminding you of exactly what had just happened.
You pulled away from him slightly, reaching for the paper towel dispenser. "Well, I have to clean up a bit and fix my dress before Soobin starts to really get suspicious out there."
But before you could tear off the paper, Jungkook's tattooed hand landed over yours, stopping you firmly. You looked at him, confused, but saw that the wicked, possessive spark had rekindled in the depths of his dark eyes. A sly smile tugged at his lips.
"You're not going to clean up, baby," he said in a voice that turned dangerously sexy again, pulling your hand away from the dispenser.
"What? Jungkook, it's leaking, it's going to stain my dress," you protested, feeling your core clench suddenly at the implication of his words.
"I don't give a shit about the dress," he said, pulling down the black fabric to adjust it over your hips, covering you up again but leaving all his cum trapped inside you. He smoothed your dress possessively, patting your buttock gently. "You're going to walk out just like this. I want you to walk around the club, talk to your little friend, and say goodbye to him feeling my hot cum run down your legs with every step you take. I want you to remember who filled your pussy every time you look at his face. We're going home right now, but you're leaving exactly like that."
You sighed.
It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself in front of the mirror. You touched up your lipstick with slightly shaky hands, adjusted your hair to try to hide the mark of his bite, and smoothed the fabric of your black dress. As you took your first step toward the door, you felt a warm, thick thread slowly slide down your inner thigh. Your core clenched hard. It was a deeply intimate, overwhelming sensation; you were walking through a public venue completely filled with him.
You left the bathroom alone, just as Jungkook had planned so as not to arouse suspicion, leaving him inside for a couple more minutes. You crossed the corridor and entered the bustle of the VIP area again. With each step you took, the movement of your legs caused Jungkook's cum to slide a little more, soaking your underwear and making you feel a constant electricity between your thighs.
You walked to the bar and found Soobin in the same spot, holding his glass and looking down at the dance floor. When he saw you arrive, his face lit up with a friendly smile, totally oblivious to the perversion you had hidden under your dress.
"You're finally back, Y/N! I was already getting worried," Soobin told you, taking a step toward you. He looked at you intently for a second, squinting. "Wow, you look... a little different. Your cheeks are very red. Are you sure you're okay?"
You squeezed your legs instinctively, feeling the hot flow build up in your core for fear that he would notice it. You forced the most natural smile possible.
"Yes, Soobin, I'm fine, don't worry," you replied, trying not to let your voice tremble. "But actually, I came to say goodbye. I have to go now."
Soobin opened his eyes wide, clearly surprised and disappointed. "What? Why are you leaving so early? The party is just getting started, they still need to bring out the best DJs, and we wanted to talk to the producer, remember? Stay a while longer, please."
The morbidity of listening to his pleas while you felt the semen of the love of your life dripping down your skin turned you on in a destructive way. You looked Soobin in the eye, knowing that if he knew what had just happened to your body five minutes ago in the marble bathroom, he would be completely floored.
"I'm really sorry, Soobin, I'd love to stay," you lied in a hurry, settling your bag on your shoulder. "My head started to hurt a lot because of the noise, and the truth is that I don't feel very well. Tomorrow I'll text you and we can talk about the album calmly, yeah? Enjoy the party."
"Well, if you feel bad, I'm not going to force you," Soobin relented with a resigned sigh, but gave you one last affectionate smile. "Take care of yourself, baby. Let me know when you get home."
"Yeah, I'll let you know. Bye," you said, turning around quickly before your body betrayed you.
Walking to the exit of the club was delicious torture. You crossed the VIP dance floor, feeling how the thick cum finished staining the lace of your underwear, threatening to seep into the fabric of the black dress with each stride. You stepped out of the venue into the cold night of the city, where a line of luxury cars waited by the sidewalk.
A few meters away, you immediately recognized Jungkook's imposing black car. You approached at a brisk pace, and just as you reached the driver's side door, the tinted glass rolled down slowly and deliberately.
Jungkook was leaning back against the leather seat, now without his jacket and with the sleeves of his black silk shirt rolled up, showcasing his tattooed arms. He looked you up and down with a sly smile, charged with a supremely sexy self-sufficiency. His dark eyes flashed with pure possessive amusement at the sight of your slightly tormented face.
You leaned against the window frame, tilting a bit toward him, and looked at him with a defiant, flirtatious gleam in your eyes.
"What are you laughing at?" you asked him in an amused whisper, though your breathing was still a little shallow. "Let me tell you one thing, Jungkook... If I get into your precious car right now, I'm going to smear your leather seats with your own cum. It's driving me crazy how much it's running down my legs because of you."
Jungkook let out a low, hoarse laugh—an incredibly hot sound that vibrated right in your belly. Far from worrying, his gaze became even darker and hungrier. He stretched his hand out the window, gripping the back of your neck firmly to force you to lean a little further into the car, pressing his lips to your ear.
"I don't give a flying fuck about the car, baby," he whispered in a dark, husky voice that soaked you completely. "Get in right now. If you stain the leather, you're wiping it off later with your own tongue. Move, I'm finishing the job at home."
You let out a soft giggle, feeling a delicious chill run down your spine and a rush of adrenaline that quickened your pulse at the promise of his punishment. You let Jungkook steal a quick kiss from your lips before he released the back of your neck, and you walked around to the passenger side. The blast of the heater greeted you instantly, along with that characteristic scent of leather and his expensive cologne.
You adjusted your black dress carefully, although at that point you didn't care if it got stained or not; having his mark running down your legs made you feel completely claimed. Jungkook started the car, slowly pulling away from the club's curb to merge into the illuminated city streets.
Keeping one hand steady on the steering wheel, Jungkook stretched out the other and placed it on your thigh, squeezing the fabric of your dress gently. Looking at him out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his lips pull into an adorable little pout, his eyes fixed on the road but wearing that little boy expression he got when he was still feeling a bit sulky.
"Still, I think you spent way too much time smiling at him," he muttered in a tone that was meant to be serious, but completely betrayed how much he wanted your affection. "I didn't like seeing him so close to you at all."
It brought you so much warmth to see him acting like a tender, jealous boy that you unfastened your seat belt for a moment to lean toward him. You rested against his broad shoulder and began to pepper his right cheek with kisses, climbing up to his cheekbone and then down to the corner of his mouth, interrupting his complaints with loud, wet kisses.
"I already told you that I only love you, my handsome jealous boy," you whispered between kisses, caressing the back of his neck with one hand while he tried to suppress a satisfied smile at your undivided attention.
"Okay, I get it," Jungkook protested with a low chuckle, though he tightened his grip on your thigh, tugging up the hem a bit to trace your skin with his tattooed fingers as he drove the rest of the way home.
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A/N: Wow, I am absolutely speechless… we officially hit 1,000 likes on my first story, and I’m literally crying! 😭 Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the incredible love and support, you made me the happiest person ever. Here is officially my second OS! 🙈 I’m still super nervous, but I truly hope you guys enjoy this one too. Any thoughts or feedback are more than welcome! ❤️
tags: idol au, established relationship, smut, possessive jungkook, jealous jungkook, angry sex, public venue, secret encounter, overstimulation, protective jungkook, soft jungkook after sex.
tropes: "everyone is looking at you but you belong to me", "overprotective boyfriend", "marking what's mine", "secretly hooking up in a public place", "he acts tough but he's a softie for her".
warnings: 18+, explicit smut, rough smut, public/semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, finger fucking, rough penetration, wall sex, marking / biting, blood (from biting), creampie / internal ejaculation, leaving the venue without cleaning up / leaking semen, wet sounds, overstimulation, risk of getting caught, jungkook is a jealous idiot but he's deeply in love, praise kink, post-orgasm aftercare.
word count: 7.1k
summary: You find yourself at an exclusive VIP after-party celebrating the end of a major award show, wearing a tight black dress and sharing a laugh-filled conversation with Soobin. Everything seems like the perfect night, until you lock eyes with Jungkook, your boyfriend, across the bar. His patience has worn thin, and his dark eyes promise an explicit punishment right in front of everyone. In the end, the cold marble walls of the bathroom will become the only witness to a fury fueled by jealousy, marks on the skin, and a wild possessiveness.
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The tight black fabric of the dress clung to your curves like a second skin, cut so low in the back that you felt the cold air of the lounge every time you moved. You adjusted the edge of the fabric, smiling as Soobin let out a clean laugh, leaning over to make himself heard over the electronic music vibrating against the walls of the private club. The venue was packed with celebrities, producers, and neon lights that tinged the atmosphere with purple and bluish hues, creating a dense, exclusive ambiance.
Soobin, looking impeccable in his designer suit, touched your shoulder naturally—a gesture of pure friendship that they had shared for years in the industry, but one that in an environment full of curious eyes seemed much more intimate. He spoke into your ear, his lips almost brushing the strands of your hair to beat the volume of the bass.
"Really, Y/N, if you don't stop wearing these dresses, I'm going to have to play your bodyguard all night," Soobin joked, keeping his hand resting on your shoulder while gesticulating with his other hand, which held a glass of champagne. "Half the club is devouring you with their eyes, and I don't want to have to fight anyone today."
You laughed, throwing your head back in an exaggerated gesture, and took a sip from your own glass, letting the liquid warm your throat. "Don't overdo it, Soobin. It's just a black dress. Besides, I'm perfectly safe with you here."
You tucked a strand behind your ear, and as you looked down, a sharp, intense sensation of warmth ran down the back of your neck. It was that sixth sense that activated only when he was around. Instinctively, you looked over Soobin's shoulder, searching the far end of the VIP bar, the darkest and most secluded corner of the private section.
There he was.
Jungkook hadn't moved from his spot in the last hour. His long fingers were wrapped around a glass of whiskey on the rocks, but he wasn't drinking. He wore a jacket over a black silk shirt with the first few buttons open, revealing the beginning of the tattoos that crawled up his neck. His jaw was so tight that you could feel the muscle's tension from across the room. His dark eyes, completely fixed and charged with a cold, possessive fury, were pinned directly on Soobin's hand, which was still resting on your bare skin.
Far from looking away when you caught him, Jungkook held your gaze. He slowly dragged his eyes up from your cleavage to your lips, and then locked them onto yours again with a wild intensity that made you swallow hard. There wasn't a hint of your boyfriend's usual sweetness on his face; his gaze promised explicit punishment, a warning that you were playing with fire. The contrast between the casual conversation you were having with your friend and Jungkook's quiet possessiveness across the room immediately quickened your pulse.
"Are you listening to me, Y/N?" Soobin asked, noticing your distraction as he gently ran his fingers down your arm to get your attention.
"Yes, of course," you lied, feeling your pussy suddenly wet at the thought of what Jungkook was thinking at that moment. You forced yourself to look at him again out of the corner of your eye. Jungkook had just set his glass of whiskey on the bar with a thud. You watched as he deliberately unbuttoned another button of his shirt without taking his dark eyes off you, as if warning you that his patience was completely gone.
You took a step closer to Soobin, seeking to tease Jungkook a little more, brushing your shoulder against his chest as you gave him another bright smile. "I just got distracted by the music. Were you telling me what happened to the producer the other day?"
Soobin kept talking animatedly about the new concept for his upcoming album, gesturing with his hands and smiling at you with that blind trust he had in you. You tried to focus on his words, nodded, and let out a soft laugh at the right moments, but the reality was that your mind was elsewhere. You felt the skin on your back tingling and hot, as if the air in the VIP club had suddenly become dense.
You looked over Soobin's shoulder to search for the dark corner of the bar again, but you froze when you realized that Jungkook was no longer there. Your glass was halfway to your lips. Panic mixed with an intense rush of adrenaline hit your chest. You quickly looked around the crowd of celebrities and purple neon lights, searching for his tall figure and black shirt.
Then you found him.
Jungkook had moved toward the VIP lounge area, right in your direct line of sight, just a few meters from where you were standing with Soobin. He had sat down on a black leather couch under a red neon light that cast dangerous shadows over the sharp features of his face. He rested his arms wide across the back of the sofa, stretching his body with a dangerously masculine laziness, and spread his legs wide in a completely dominant manner.
He stared at you with his dark eyes the exact second you discovered him. He didn't blink. He did not disguise it. He held your gaze with such wild fixity that you felt a sudden, wet spasm between your legs, soaking the lace of your underwear beneath the tight dress.
You shifted the weight of your body from one foot to the other, trying to maintain your composure in front of Soobin, but Jungkook noticed your nervousness and a sly smile, almost imperceptible and full of smugness, tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew perfectly well what he was provoking in you.
Slowly and deliberately, Jungkook lowered his gaze to your cleavage, running his eyes over the black fabric that squeezed your breasts. Then, he widened his legs even more on the couch. You watched as he lowered one of his tattooed hands toward his crotch, adjusting himself in front of your eyes with total shamelessness, revealing the thick and rigid bulk that already marked the fabric. He had a completely hard cock just from watching you interact with another man, and he was showing it to you as a direct challenge.
You clenched your fingers around your champagne glass so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your lungs starved for air. You watched as Jungkook, without taking his hungry eyes off yours, ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, slowly moistening it, promising you with that single gesture everything he was going to do to you with his mouth as soon as he had you alone.
"Y/N, are you really okay? You look a little pale," Soobin's voice brought you back to reality, breaking the invisible thread that linked you to Jungkook for a second. Soobin took another step toward you, worried, and placed a hand on your arm to comfort you.
That simple physical touch was the final trigger. From the couch, you watched as Jungkook's expression instantly transformed. The amusement disappeared from his face, replaced by a shadow of pure possessiveness and jealous rage. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened again in a brutal way. He held your gaze one last time, slowly nodding his head toward the hallway that led to the VIP restrooms. It was not a suggestion; it was a direct, icy order. If you didn't move right then and there, he was going to get up and force you out of there in front of everyone.
Your legs trembled under the tight black dress, feeling your pussy drip from the sheer anticipation of the punishment that awaited you. You set your glass down on a high table with clumsy hands and looked at your friend, forcing the most natural smile you could manage.
"Yes, Soobin, I'm fine. It's just so hot in here," you said, your voice a little higher than normal from the lack of air. "I'm going to run to the bathroom for a second to refresh my face and touch up my lipstick, okay? I won't be long."
"Sure, go ahead. I'll wait for you here," Soobin replied with a friendly smile, totally oblivious to the silent war that had just taken place behind his back.
You turned around, feeling Jungkook's eyes burning into your backside as you walked. You crossed the VIP lounge at a hurried pace, your heart pounding against your ribs with a physical, excruciating need to feel his hands on you. You stepped into the dark hallway of the restrooms, pushing open the door to the private marble cubicle with the absolute certainty that it wouldn't take him a minute to slip in behind you.
You entered the private bathroom and immediately leaned your back against the heavy wooden door, releasing the air you had been holding in your lungs. The silence of the place, broken only by the muffled hum of the bass from the music outside, hit you suddenly. You looked at yourself in the great black marble mirror; your cheeks were on fire and your breathing was so altered that the neckline of your black dress rose and fell erratically. You ran your hands down your thighs, trying to smooth out the clinging fabric, but before you could take a step toward the sink, you heard the sound of the doorknob turning behind you.
You instinctively stepped aside as the door opened and Jungkook came in like a whirlwind, slamming it behind him. The latch turned with a sharp, definitive click that echoed off the tiled walls.
You didn't have time to speak. Jungkook stepped forward, his face hardened by icy fury, and firmly grabbed your arms to smash your back against the cold marble wall. You gasped from the impact, but the contrast of the stone's cold against your bare skin only served to make your pussy even wetter, already dripping under your underwear. Jungkook crowded you, overpowering you with his massive body, forcing you to feel the stiffness of his erect cock pressing hard against your belly through the fabric of your dress.
"What the fuck did you think you were doing out there, Y/N?" Jungkook hissed, his voice so hoarse and low that it vibrated right in your chest. His dark eyes, completely dilated with rage and desire, swept over your face before locking onto your lips. His tattooed hands gripped your arms with a possessive force that made it clear you had no escape. "Did you enjoy watching him touch you? Do you like being looked at that way in front of everyone?"
You frowned, feeling anger and frustration mix with the intense excitement that had him so out of control. You tried to push against his chest, but it was like trying to move a rock; his muscles were completely tense beneath his black silk shirt.
"Jungkook, enough! I've explained it to you a thousand times, damn it," you exclaimed in an angry whisper, trying to keep your voice low in case someone passed through the hallway. "Soobin is my friend. I've known him for years, long before you and I started dating. We weren't doing anything wrong, we were just talking about his damn album."
"I don't give a flying fuck about his album, and I don't give a rat's ass about how long you've known him," he interrupted, closing the remaining distance to brush against your lips roughly. He didn't fully kiss you, torturing you with his agonizing proximity. His whiskey-laced breath flooded your senses. "I saw the way you laughed. I saw how he touched your shoulder and how he stroked your arm. I know exactly how he looked at you, Y/N. That guy wants to fuck you just as bad as I do, and you just stand there, smiling at him in a dress that clings to every single damn curve."
"He's my friend, Jungkook! He doesn't look at me like that; you're the one being completely paranoid," you shot back, throwing your head back as his mouth dropped down to your neck. You gasped for air the moment his clenched jaw grazed your sensitive skin. "You always do the exact same thing whenever he's around. I'm not going to stop talking to him just because you can't control your damn jealousy."
Jungkook let out a guttural growl, a possessive sound that ran down your spine like an electric shock. One of his hands released your arm to climb straight up to your neck, wrapping his long fingers around your throat loosely—just enough to force you to tilt your head back and look straight at him, catching your eyes with an icy fixity.
"Jealousy? Of course I'm jealous, dammit. It drives me crazy that anyone thinks they have a chance with you," he confessed through gritted teeth, his ragged breath hitting your face. His eyes went down again to your cleavage, where your breasts rose and fell heavily from the argument. "You're mine, Y/N. No one else's. And it makes me sick to have to sit on a damn couch watching other men lick their lips while staring at your body through that fabric. I'm not going to share you with anyone, is that clear?"
"I'm not an object, Jungkook. You don't have to share me because I'm your girlfriend," you replied, your voice cracking because the pressure of his hand on your neck and the hardness of his cock brushing against your core were clouding your judgment. Your pussy was pounding in an excruciating way, soaking your lace completely, wishing he would just stop talking and rip your underwear off at once. "You can't expect me to hide in a corner every time we go out."
Jungkook barely softened his grip on your neck, but only to slide his fingers toward the back of your head, tangling them tightly in your hair to pull you back. His gaze became purely hungry, losing what little patience he had left.
"I don't want you to hide," he whispered, brushing his nose against yours, letting his lips graze yours with wild urgency. "I want everyone to know that the only one who spreads your legs at night is me. And right now, you're going to apologize to me for making me wait so long while you were having fun with him."
You didn't have time to respond to his demand. Jungkook shortened the remaining distance and crashed his lips onto yours in a wild, wet, fury-laden kiss that made your knees tremble. You closed your eyes tightly, clinging to his broad shoulders as he devoured you without a hint of patience, thrusting his tongue into your mouth to claim your space, savoring the champagne you'd drunk and forcing you to follow a frenetic pace that took your breath away in seconds.
With a jerky motion, Jungkook pulled your hair back with the hand on the nape of your neck, forcing you to arch your back and completely expose your throat. You let out a muffled moan against his lips that he swallowed smugly. He lowered his kisses down your jaw, leaving a trail of hot saliva that cooled suddenly with the air from the bathroom, until he stopped right in the curve of your neck, where your pulse beat wildly.
"You're going to learn to respect me, Y/N," he growled against your skin, and before you could process his words, he dug his teeth hard into the sensitive tissue of your shoulder.
You felt a sharp prick of pain that made you let out a gasp, digging your nails into the fabric of his black shirt. The pressure of his teeth was maintained for an eternal second, barely tearing the surface layer of skin until a warm thread sprouted from the small wound. When he pulled away, a perfect drop of blood ran down your collarbone. Jungkook looked at you with completely dark eyes, dilated by adrenaline, and a wicked smile appeared on his face. He lowered his head slowly and ran the tip of his tongue over the wound, licking the trickle of blood with an almost animalistic pleasure, tasting you as if you were his property.
"Mine," he repeated hoarsely, dragging the word against your ear as he left you trembling from sensory overload.
His hands wasted no more time. They went straight down the sides of your body, burning through the fabric of the clinging black dress until they reached the hem. With a dry, violent tug, Jungkook pulled the fabric up to your waist, leaving your bare legs exposed to the cold air of the marble bathroom. He forced you to spread your legs by pinning one of his knees between your thighs, forcibly separating them to gain space.
Your fingers clung to the edge of the sink when you saw his tattooed hand go straight down into your underwear. He hooked the lace impatiently and tossed it aside unceremoniously, leaving your core completely exposed. The first contact of his long fingers against your clitoris—which was already ridiculously soaked, hot, and throbbing with the lingering heat of the argument—made you let out a high gasp.
"Just look at you... you're dripping for me, damn it," Jungkook hissed, looking down, fascinated by the wetness covering your labia. "You were all smiles for that asshole, but it's because of my cock that you're so fucking open and wet."
He rubbed his thumb with direct force over your clitoris in quick, heavy circles that made you instinctively arch your hips toward his hand, reaching for more. Just as you were about to beg him not to stop, Jungkook curled two of his fingers and slipped them into your pussy, sinking them all the way down without a shred of mercy.
"Jungkook!" you shouted, burying your face in his neck as your vaginal walls contracted violently around his fingers, trapping them in your own heat.
He did not stop; he began to pump inside you with a fast, hard, and steady rhythm, matching it with his thumb, which continued to pound your clitoris relentlessly. The wet, dirty sound of his fingers going in and out of your soaking wet pussy began to echo off the walls of the VIP bathroom, mingling with your desperate gasps. You moved uncontrollably against his hand, losing your mind from the sharp pleasure that his punishment was causing you.
"You're going to cum for me right now, Y/N. I want to see how you come on my fingers before I bury my cock inside you," he ordered in your ear, increasing the speed of the pumping, driving his fingers deeper and deeper, looking for that exact spot inside you that made you lose consciousness.
The friction was so intense that you felt like you were burning inside. Your eyes filled with tears of pure pleasure and your vision began to blur. You felt the first wave of orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach, expanding into your thighs, which wouldn't stop shaking.
"I'm cumming, Jungkook... I'm going to cum," you groaned desperately, throwing your head back, pressing your buttocks against the marble wall.
"Do it, damn it. Soak my fingers," he demanded, pushing harder.
The orgasm struck you like lightning. You let out a gasp that was instantly muffled when Jungkook covered your mouth with his free hand, forcing you to swallow the sound while your pussy suffered brutal spasms, squeezing his fingers violently as you expelled jets of hot fluid that soaked his hand and wrist completely. You stood suspended in the air, panting against his palm, your body limp and completely defeated by the climax.
Jungkook didn't give you a single second to get used to the impressive length that filled you completely. Without pulling out, he yanked your hips back violently and rammed into you again with a sharp blow, causing your buttocks to slam against his pelvis with a wet, loud smack that echoed off the walls of the bathroom. You let out a high-pitched scream that was cut short when he started fucking you at a frenetic, hard, and ruthless pace, sinking into your pussy with an animal force that made you stagger against the marble sink.
"Shit, Y/N... you're so fucking tight," Jungkook gasped against your ear, his voice broken with pleasure, alternating his thrusts with a speed that was making you lose consciousness. "I swear it blows my mind how perfectly you fit me, fuck. No other girl feels like you."
You stared into the mirror with your eyes completely blurred, watching your breasts shake under the black fabric of the dress with each of his wild thrusts. Jungkook was staring at you through the reflection, his eyes bloodshot, completely out of control. The pleasure of having his huge cock sliding in and out of you at that speed mixed with the delicious humiliation of his words, making your clit throb with unbearable force.
"But I'm still mad at you," he hissed suddenly, his tone shifting to a much colder one as he thrust so deep it made you arch your back to the absolute limit, tearing a heartbreaking moan from your throat. "It makes me want to break you right here for letting him touch you. I want you to feel every damn inch of my cock so it's clear to you who this pussy belongs to."
"Ah, Jungkook! More… Harder!" you begged with a broken voice, losing your mind, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts with the exact same violence.
"Shh... shut your damn mouth," he ordered immediately, lowering one of his tattooed hands to firmly clench your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror while he delivered three thrusts in a row that made you see stars. "Don't make a sound. We're in the VIP area of the party. Anyone could push that door, break the latch, and walk right in."
The mention of the real danger sent an electric shock straight to your spine. Suddenly, a perverse and extremely hot fantasy settled in your mind, sending your pulse racing. You imagined the door opening. You imagined people in the industry—or worse, Soobin himself—walking down the hallway, calling your name, pushing the door open, and finding you exactly like this: completely helpless, with your black dress pulled up to your waist, your hips flushed red from Jungkook's brutal pace, and his huge cock driving in and out of your soaked pussy, making you squirt right in front of him.
The mere thought of Soobin seeing you being torn apart by Jungkook's pleasure, moaning like a whore for him, turned you on in a destructive way. Your pussy twitched in a spasm so violent that Jungkook let out a wild growl, feeling your vaginal walls almost strangle his member.
"Fuck, Y/N... how you squeeze... does it excite you that they can see us?" he asked with a wicked smile on his lips, instantly capturing your reaction. His words became even dirtier, brushing your ear with his wet lips. "Think of your little friend Soobin outside, waiting for you. Imagine if he walked in right now and saw you with your legs wide open, devouring my entire cock while I fill you with my cum. Would you like him to see us fuck? Would you like him to see how I leave your pussy dripping with my cum?"
The morbidity completely overwhelmed you. You let out a loud, undone groan, unable to contain the tremendous wave of excitement that flooded you. Realizing how loud you had been, you immediately clapped both hands over your mouth, pressing your fingers against your lips to drown out your next screams.
Jungkook had no mercy; he took advantage of the fact that you were completely disarmed and overexcited to grab your hips tighter. Leaning a little more over the marble, he began to fuck you from behind with an even rougher rhythm, pounding you mercilessly while you could only emit muffled noises and sobs of pure pleasure behind your hands.
You were completely lost, your hands pressed against your own lips to hold back the screams as Jungkook continued to charge at you from behind with a brutal cadence. Your buttocks were burning from the friction and your pussy was pounding so intensely that you felt like you were going to explode at any moment. The wet smack of each thrust resounded loudly in the black marble bathroom.
Suddenly, three sharp, firm knocks on the wood of the door cut through the air.
You froze completely, opening your eyes wide in the reflection of the mirror. Jungkook also stopped instantly, leaving his huge cock buried to the hilt inside you, staying completely motionless. The silence that settled in the cubicle was suffocating, broken only by his agitated breaths and the sound of your chests colliding.
"Y/N? Are you in there?" Soobin's voice came from the other side, strangely clear and close. "You've been in there for a long time. Since you didn't answer my messages, I got a little worried. Is everything okay?"
Absolute panic ran down your spine. You looked at Jungkook in the mirror, imploring him with your gaze to be silent. But a wicked smile, charged with a hot, dark malice, appeared on your boyfriend's face. Jungkook not only didn't stay still, but he began to move his hips again in an extremely slow way, burying himself and coming out of your pussy millimeter by millimeter, making him brush against your swollen clit in such a precise way that you had to bite your lower lip to keep from shouting his name.
"Answer him, baby," Jungkook whispered in your ear, his voice barely a breath, brushing his nose against your sweaty, wet cheek. "Tell your little friend that you're perfectly fine. But watch your tone, because if you moan, I'm going to push hard."
Your hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly that your knuckles ached. The slow rubbing of his member against your soaked vaginal walls was delicious torture. You swallowed hard, trying to stabilize your breath before opening your mouth.
"Yes... Soobin, I'm here," you managed to say, horrified by how shaky your own voice sounded. You paused for a second as Jungkook pushed a little deeper, causing you to close your eyes from sensory overload. "I'm fine... it's just... my dress got ruined and I'm trying to fix it."
"Ah, I understand," Soobin replied from the hallway, his voice denoting total innocence. He didn't have the slightest idea that you were leaning over the marble with your black dress pulled up to your waist, completely sealed around Jungkook's hard cock. "Do you want me to wait for you out here, or should I go back to the VIP bar?"
Jungkook's smile widened upon hearing his friend's question. To test your endurance, he thrust a little faster—not hard enough to make noise with the impact of your bodies, but deep enough to make you gasp. A high-pitched moan almost escaped your throat, but you bit your tongue just in time, transforming the sound into a heavy sigh.
"No, Soobin... go back to the bar," you replied quickly, the air missing from your lungs as you felt the hot fluids slipping down your thighs from Jungkook's movements. "I... I'm going to take a little longer. I'll catch you there in a few minutes."
"Okay. Don't be long. I'll save your spot," Soobin finally said, and within seconds, you heard the subtle sound of his footsteps fading away down the club's hallway.
As soon as silence reigned again, you dropped your head forward, resting your forehead against the cold mirror, completely exhausted by the psychological toll of almost being caught. Jungkook let out a hoarse sigh and grabbed you firmly by the chin, forcing you to lift your head so you would look at your reflection next to his. His dark eyes shone with a mixture of possessive pride and unbridled desire. He planted a wet kiss on your cheek, right where your tears of pleasure mixed with sweat.
"Damn, Y/N... you're a work of art," he praised you in a broken voice, completely fascinated by your submission. He gently stroked your hip before tensing the muscles in his legs once more. "You behaved so well. Talking to him with my cock deep in your pussy... You're going to drive me crazy. You're the hottest, most perfect girl in this damn world."
The pace became completely relentless. Freed from the paranoia of Soobin listening, Jungkook gave himself entirely to instinct, ramming into you with an overwhelming force that made you hit the marble sink again and again. The sound of his thrusts, the friction of his tattoos against your back, and the suffocating heat of the bathroom dragged you to the edge of the abyss. You felt the climax building with savage violence in your belly, making you lose all track of time and space.
"Jungkook... I'm going to cum, it's coming, fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back, seeking his lips in a desperate, tangled kiss.
"Take it all for me, baby. Receive it all," he gasped, delivering three brutal thrusts that made you see stars.
The orgasm hit you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy twitched in violent, painfully delicious spasms, squeezing his cock with brutal force, imprisoning him in your own heat. Jungkook let out a completely animalistic growl as he felt your vaginal walls strangling him; the stimulation was too much for his own control. He delivered two final, blind thrusts, burying himself deep inside you, and came with a series of powerful jerks, filling you with jets of thick, hot cum that you felt expanding all over your core.
They stood like that for a whole minute, united, your chests rising and falling heavily, listening only to the echo of their ragged breaths in the bathroom.
Little by little, the adrenaline of jealousy and fury began to dissipate, giving way to that warmth so characteristic of Jungkook. He pulled out of you slowly, letting out a soft sigh, and immediately grabbed you by the waist to turn you around with extreme delicacy—the exact opposite of his roughness from just a few minutes ago.
He gently leaned you against the sink, supporting your weight because your legs were still shaking like jelly. You looked at his face; the hardness of his features had completely vanished. His dark eyes gazed at you with a devotion and tenderness that melted your chest. Jungkook looked down at your shoulder, where the small mark of his bite still glowed with a trail of dried blood. Extremely gently, he cradled your face with his tattooed hands and pressed his forehead against yours.
"Baby... are you okay?" he asked in an extremely low voice, hoarse but loaded with genuine concern. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping a strand of wet hair from your forehead. "Did I hurt you? Tell me if I was too rough or if I made you feel bad because of what I said... Fuck, I went crazy with jealousy, but I would never want to hurt you."
You smiled weakly, your heart pounding, but this time out of pure love. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm fine, Kook. I'm perfectly fine. I loved it."
Jungkook heaved a sigh of relief that seemed to come from his very soul. He lowered his head and began to pepper your face with soft, slow kisses; he kissed your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and then moved down to your shoulder, leaving a warm, prolonged kiss right next to the wound—silently apologizing through your skin. His hands slid down to your hips, giving you slow, comforting caresses that made your skin crawl in the most beautiful way.
"I love you," he whispered against your neck, pressing you a little tighter against his body as if he wanted to make sure you were real. "I love you so much I'm afraid I'll go crazy over you, Y/N. You're the only thing I care about."
"I love you too, Kook," you replied, hiding your face against his chest, inhaling his expensive cologne mixed with the scent of sex. "Much more than you can imagine."
They stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a few more moments, enjoying the peace after the storm. However, the reminder that you were still in the bathroom of a VIP club rushed back into your mind. You felt the warm moisture of his cum slowly sliding down the inside of your thighs, reminding you of exactly what had just happened.
You pulled away from him slightly, reaching for the paper towel dispenser. "Well, I have to clean up a bit and fix my dress before Soobin starts to really get suspicious out there."
But before you could tear off the paper, Jungkook's tattooed hand landed over yours, stopping you firmly. You looked at him, confused, but saw that the wicked, possessive spark had rekindled in the depths of his dark eyes. A sly smile tugged at his lips.
"You're not going to clean up, baby," he said in a voice that turned dangerously sexy again, pulling your hand away from the dispenser.
"What? Jungkook, it's leaking, it's going to stain my dress," you protested, feeling your core clench suddenly at the implication of his words.
"I don't give a shit about the dress," he said, pulling down the black fabric to adjust it over your hips, covering you up again but leaving all his cum trapped inside you. He smoothed your dress possessively, patting your buttock gently. "You're going to walk out just like this. I want you to walk around the club, talk to your little friend, and say goodbye to him feeling my hot cum run down your legs with every step you take. I want you to remember who filled your pussy every time you look at his face. We're going home right now, but you're leaving exactly like that."
You sighed.
It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself in front of the mirror. You touched up your lipstick with slightly shaky hands, adjusted your hair to try to hide the mark of his bite, and smoothed the fabric of your black dress. As you took your first step toward the door, you felt a warm, thick thread slowly slide down your inner thigh. Your core clenched hard. It was a deeply intimate, overwhelming sensation; you were walking through a public venue completely filled with him.
You left the bathroom alone, just as Jungkook had planned so as not to arouse suspicion, leaving him inside for a couple more minutes. You crossed the corridor and entered the bustle of the VIP area again. With each step you took, the movement of your legs caused Jungkook's cum to slide a little more, soaking your underwear and making you feel a constant electricity between your thighs.
You walked to the bar and found Soobin in the same spot, holding his glass and looking down at the dance floor. When he saw you arrive, his face lit up with a friendly smile, totally oblivious to the perversion you had hidden under your dress.
"You're finally back, Y/N! I was already getting worried," Soobin told you, taking a step toward you. He looked at you intently for a second, squinting. "Wow, you look... a little different. Your cheeks are very red. Are you sure you're okay?"
You squeezed your legs instinctively, feeling the hot flow build up in your core for fear that he would notice it. You forced the most natural smile possible.
"Yes, Soobin, I'm fine, don't worry," you replied, trying not to let your voice tremble. "But actually, I came to say goodbye. I have to go now."
Soobin opened his eyes wide, clearly surprised and disappointed. "What? Why are you leaving so early? The party is just getting started, they still need to bring out the best DJs, and we wanted to talk to the producer, remember? Stay a while longer, please."
The morbidity of listening to his pleas while you felt the semen of the love of your life dripping down your skin turned you on in a destructive way. You looked Soobin in the eye, knowing that if he knew what had just happened to your body five minutes ago in the marble bathroom, he would be completely floored.
"I'm really sorry, Soobin, I'd love to stay," you lied in a hurry, settling your bag on your shoulder. "My head started to hurt a lot because of the noise, and the truth is that I don't feel very well. Tomorrow I'll text you and we can talk about the album calmly, yeah? Enjoy the party."
"Well, if you feel bad, I'm not going to force you," Soobin relented with a resigned sigh, but gave you one last affectionate smile. "Take care of yourself, baby. Let me know when you get home."
"Yeah, I'll let you know. Bye," you said, turning around quickly before your body betrayed you.
Walking to the exit of the club was delicious torture. You crossed the VIP dance floor, feeling how the thick cum finished staining the lace of your underwear, threatening to seep into the fabric of the black dress with each stride. You stepped out of the venue into the cold night of the city, where a line of luxury cars waited by the sidewalk.
A few meters away, you immediately recognized Jungkook's imposing black car. You approached at a brisk pace, and just as you reached the driver's side door, the tinted glass rolled down slowly and deliberately.
Jungkook was leaning back against the leather seat, now without his jacket and with the sleeves of his black silk shirt rolled up, showcasing his tattooed arms. He looked you up and down with a sly smile, charged with a supremely sexy self-sufficiency. His dark eyes flashed with pure possessive amusement at the sight of your slightly tormented face.
You leaned against the window frame, tilting a bit toward him, and looked at him with a defiant, flirtatious gleam in your eyes.
"What are you laughing at?" you asked him in an amused whisper, though your breathing was still a little shallow. "Let me tell you one thing, Jungkook... If I get into your precious car right now, I'm going to smear your leather seats with your own cum. It's driving me crazy how much it's running down my legs because of you."
Jungkook let out a low, hoarse laugh—an incredibly hot sound that vibrated right in your belly. Far from worrying, his gaze became even darker and hungrier. He stretched his hand out the window, gripping the back of your neck firmly to force you to lean a little further into the car, pressing his lips to your ear.
"I don't give a flying fuck about the car, baby," he whispered in a dark, husky voice that soaked you completely. "Get in right now. If you stain the leather, you're wiping it off later with your own tongue. Move, I'm finishing the job at home."
You let out a soft giggle, feeling a delicious chill run down your spine and a rush of adrenaline that quickened your pulse at the promise of his punishment. You let Jungkook steal a quick kiss from your lips before he released the back of your neck, and you walked around to the passenger side. The blast of the heater greeted you instantly, along with that characteristic scent of leather and his expensive cologne.
You adjusted your black dress carefully, although at that point you didn't care if it got stained or not; having his mark running down your legs made you feel completely claimed. Jungkook started the car, slowly pulling away from the club's curb to merge into the illuminated city streets.
Keeping one hand steady on the steering wheel, Jungkook stretched out the other and placed it on your thigh, squeezing the fabric of your dress gently. Looking at him out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his lips pull into an adorable little pout, his eyes fixed on the road but wearing that little boy expression he got when he was still feeling a bit sulky.
"Still, I think you spent way too much time smiling at him," he muttered in a tone that was meant to be serious, but completely betrayed how much he wanted your affection. "I didn't like seeing him so close to you at all."
It brought you so much warmth to see him acting like a tender, jealous boy that you unfastened your seat belt for a moment to lean toward him. You rested against his broad shoulder and began to pepper his right cheek with kisses, climbing up to his cheekbone and then down to the corner of his mouth, interrupting his complaints with loud, wet kisses.
"I already told you that I only love you, my handsome jealous boy," you whispered between kisses, caressing the back of his neck with one hand while he tried to suppress a satisfied smile at your undivided attention.
"Okay, I get it," Jungkook protested with a low chuckle, though he tightened his grip on your thigh, tugging up the hem a bit to trace your skin with his tattooed fingers as he drove the rest of the way home.
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A/N: Wow, I am absolutely speechless… we officially hit 1,000 likes on my first story, and I’m literally crying! 😭 Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the incredible love and support, you made me the happiest person ever. Here is officially my second OS! 🙈 I’m still super nervous, but I truly hope you guys enjoy this one too. Any thoughts or feedback are more than welcome! ❤️
tags: enemies to lovers, royalty au, arranged marriage, childhood acquaintances to lovers, forced proximity, smut, angst with happy ending, virginity, possessive jungkook, shared bed, first time.
tropes: "we grew up together but we hate each other", "only one bed", "marriage of convenience", "i lied to protect you", wedding night protocol, "you are mine by contract and by blood".
warnings: 18+, explicit smut, virgin!reader, deflowering / loss of virginity, blood (from deflowering), finger fucking, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex (f. receiving), heavy praise kink, body worship, stretching, deep penetration, size difference, slow and deliberate pace, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, internal ejaculation / creampie, marking, bed creaking, rubbing, wet sounds, overstimulation, post-orgasm aftercare, dominant but gentle jungkook, submissive reader, mutual pining, contract marriage consummation.
word count: 11.6k
summary: Jungkook is the stoic and ruthless heir to the powerful Jeon Kingdom, and you are the princess of a realm forced into an alliance to secure borders. Bound by a political contract designed to prevent further blood, you are forced into a marriage with the boy you once loved in the gardens—and the man you’ve spent the last five years hating with every fiber of your being after an unforgivable betrayal.
As the court demands proof of your union and the crown weighs heavy on your brows, you must navigate a single night behind locked doors where the armor of your pride completely disappears. You thought you were just a duty to him, but as the masks fall in the wedding chamber, you'll soon discover that Jungkook has been playing a much longer game to keep you safe... and he has no intention of letting his queen go.
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The rattle of the carriage was a rhythmic torture that stuck at the base of your skull. Every bump on the road to the capital of the Jeon Kingdom reminded you that, with each meter advanced, your freedom was a little further behind, blurred on the horizon by the borders of your own home.
You wore the heaviest traveling dress your maids could find, armor of dark blue velvet and lace that protected you, at least symbolically, from the outside world. Your fingers, gloved, sank into the upholstery of the seat. You hadn't looked at Jungkook in the last three hours. You knew exactly what he was doing without having to see him: he would be leaning against the opposite backrest, with one leg crossed over the other, looking at the map of his new lands, or, worse, watching you with that silent smugness that had always driven you crazy.
"You can stop smashing the seat, Y/N," his voice cut through the air, deep and charged with an indifference you knew was feigned. "The silk of this carriage costs more than the dowry that your father bargained for until the last minute. You don't want to start your life here by owing repairs."
You tensed up. There it was. The same tone of superiority that he used when you were ten years old and he managed to knock you off the wooden horse. You forced yourself to let go of the upholstery and crossed your hands on your lap, turning your head to fix an icy gaze on him.
"If you think my dowry is scarce, you could have left me at the border," you replied with venom. " I'm sure we would both have been much happier. But of course, the Crown Prince always gets what he wants, even if what he gets is a wife who can't even stand the air you breathe."
Jungkook let out a dry laugh, a sound without a trace of humor. He slammed the map shut and leaned forward, invading your personal space. He smelled of leather, old paper and that aroma of cedar wood that always identified him.
"Make no mistake. I didn't "want" this. I wanted a secure border and an end to the skirmishes in the north. You are only the wax seal on the contract, Y/N. Nothing else."
Those words should have hurt, but they only fueled the fire of your contempt. The wedding had been an obscene display of wealth: white flowers that smelled of death, songs that sounded like elegy, and that moment in the cathedral where, in front of the archbishop, you had to put your hand on his. You felt his pulse, firm and steady, while yours galloped wildly. At that moment, as the village cheered a union you hated, you realized that Jungkook was no longer the kid you used to hide with in kitchens to steal cakes. He was a stranger made of stone and duty.
The carriage finally stopped. The sound of trumpets announced their arrival at the Jeon Grand Castle. The doors opened and royal protocol took over. You were forced to accept his hand to come down. His fingers squeezed yours with unnecessary firmness, a silent warning before you both had to pretend to court.
The reception was eternal. Bows, empty speeches and the scrutinizing gaze of your father-in-law, the King, who analyzed you as if you were a purebred horse that should give good heirs. During the entire welcome dinner, you barely had a bite. Jungkook, sitting next to you on your rightful throne, fulfilled his role perfectly: he poured you wine, commented on trifles about the weather, and occasionally brushed your hand with his just to let the nobles see how "lucky" they were. Every touch burned you with rage.
Finally, the ordeal ended. The official "Wedding Night", the one that everyone was waiting for with morbid curiosity, had arrived.
You were escorted to the royal apartments by your ladies. It was a huge room, lit only by the fire in the fireplace. And there, in the center, the bed. A monster of carved wood and linen sheets that seemed to mock you.
The door opened and Jungkook walked in. He looked tired, but his eyes shone with an intensity you hadn't seen all day. He locked the door and the sound of the bolt snapping in was like a shot in the silence.
You stood motionless in the center of the room, your feet sunk into the thick crimson carpet. Your shoulders were heavy; The wire structure and jewels of your wedding dress made you feel like a puppet that had its threads cut. You didn't dare turn around. You didn't want to see Jungkook, you didn't want to confirm that the boy who once challenged you to a race for the stables was the same man who now shared your breath in the gloom of a royal bedroom.
"Are you going to stay there all night, Y/N?" His voice came from behind, loaded with a tiredness that seemed to come from years, not hours. "The dinner ended an hour ago. Protocol is dead for today. You can stop pretending that you are a marble statue. "
You closed your eyes tightly. That tone. That quiet arrogance that always made you want to scream. You turned around slowly. Jungkook was taking off his white dress gloves, throwing them on a velvet chair with a blood-boiling nonchalance. His hair was slightly tousled and the first buttons of his jacket were unbuttoned.
"I'm not pretending," you said, and your voice sounded more broken than you would have liked. "I'm trying to assimilate how we ended up here. You and me. It's a joke in bad taste, Jungkook. "
He let out a dry laugh, without a trace of joy, as he approached the table where a glass jug of wine rested. A drink was poured, the sound of liquid falling down was the only thing that filled the void between you.
"A joke?" "No, it's politics," he replied, turning his back on you. "This is what we were told would happen since we were ten years old and we were forced to hold hands in the garden. "Someday, Jungkook, she will be your queen. Someday, Y/N, he will be your lord." You knew it. Don't pretend to be surprised now that the bill has arrived to be collected. "
"I knew it would happen, but I didn't think you'd be so..." You fell silent, looking for the word.
"So what?" He turned, glass in hand, fixing his dark eyes on yours. " So cold? So distant? What did you expect, Y/N? That after five years without speaking to each other, since that last argument in the lake, I received you with open arms and promises of eternal love? We know each other too well to lie to each other like that."
You walked to the dresser, needing something to do with your hands so they wouldn't shake. You began to unhook the heavy veil of your hairstyle, but your fingers, numb with nerves, became entangled in the silver hairpins. You grunted in frustration, tugging at your own hair.
Suddenly, you felt his presence. Jungkook had moved with that quiet speed he had always had. His hands were positioned over yours, stopping you. The contact was electric, a heat shock that made you hold your breath. It's been years since you've had it so close.
"You're going to pull your hair out," he whispered. His breath brushed the back of your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine. Leave me.
"I can do it alone," you insisted, trying to push you away, but he gently squeezed your wrists.
"No, you can't. This hairstyle requires three maidens and you are alone with me. Stay put. It's an order, if that is of any use to you now. "
You stiffened as his long, skillful fingers began to work on your hair. You could see it in the reflection in the mirror: the Crown Prince, the warrior everyone was talking about, focused on removing diamond hairpins with a delicacy that didn't match the tension emanating from his body. Your eyes met on the glass, and for a second, the hatred dissipated to give way to raw melancholy.
"I remember when you fell off the cherry tree," he said suddenly, his voice barely a whisper as he pulled out the last piece of silver. "You had flowers in your hair and you were crying because you had torn your favorite dress. I helped you remove them all before your mother saw you. "
"And then you told me I was a fool for climbing so high," you remembered, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "You always had to have the last word, Jungkook. You always had to be the one who knew the most. "
"And you always had to be the one who didn't listen," he replied.
The veil finally fell to the ground, like dead skin. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders, and Jungkook didn't immediately withdraw his hands. His fingers brushed the skin of your neck, a minimal, almost accidental contact, but one that weighed tons.
"We're not those kids anymore, Y/N," he said, and his voice changed, deeper, more dangerous. "Outside this room, we are two strangers who must rule. But inside—" His hands went down to your shoulders, squeezing them with a firmness that forced you to stare at him in the mirror—... "Inside we are two people bound by a contract that demands blood and heirs. "
He let go of you abruptly, as if you were burning, and returned to his glass of wine. The silence fell again, denser than before. You sat on the dresser bench, feeling exhausted.
"Why didn't you look at me during the ceremony?" You asked, breaking your calm. Not once. "You made me feel like you were marrying a piece of furniture from the cathedral. "
Jungkook drank the rest of his wine in one gulp and put the glass down on the table with a thud. He turned to you, and this time, the mask of indifference had cracked. There was fire in his eyes, a mixture of rage and something that looked like pent-up hunger.
"Because if I looked at you, Y/N, it would have reminded me why I hated this arrangement so much," he blurted out, beginning to walk toward you with slow, heavy steps. "If I looked at you, I would see the woman who despises me and remember that I am going to spend the rest of my days tied to someone who would rather be anywhere else in the world. Do you think it's easy for me? Do you think I like knowing that the only reason you're in my bed tonight is because a piece of paper says so? "
He stopped in front of you, forcing you to lift your head to hold his gaze.
"I know there are guards at the door," you continued, ignoring the lump in your throat. "I know the bridesmaids will come at dawn. I know what has to be in those sheets, Jungkook. I'm not naïve. I have grown in this court as much as you have. "
"Then stop looking at me like I'm the executioner," he snapped, leaning over you, resting his hands on the dressing table on either side of your body, locking you in.
The space between you shrank until there was only a sigh away. You could smell the red wine and the metallic aroma of its armor. The hatred was there, palpable, but beneath it, an electric current of mutual recognition was beginning to boil. They knew each other too well; You knew the twitch in his jaw when he was nervous, and he knew the way your pulse quickened at the base of your throat when you were afraid.
"It's five hours before dawn," Jungkook whispered, and his gaze dropped to your lips before returning to your eyes. "We can spend them yelling at each other or remembering how much we hate each other... Or we can accept that, for one night, duty is the only thing we have left. "
He brought a hand behind your back, looking for the start of the endless row of buttons on your dress. His fingers brushed against the exposed skin of your neck and you closed your eyes, letting out a gasp you couldn't contain.
"This is not love, Jungkook," you warned, although your hands, of their own volition, rose to rest on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart under the silk of his shirt.
"I know," he replied, and for the first time all night, his voice sounded almost human, almost vulnerable. "It's just the truth. And the truth is, even if we hate each other, tonight there is no one else in the world for us but the other. "
He began to undo the first button, very slowly, as if he wanted every second of that humiliation—or that surrender—to last forever.
You felt the first tug on your back, a dry movement as Jungkook's fingers struggled against the first mother-of-pearl button. The silence in the room was so absolute that you could swear you heard the pendulum clock mechanism in the hallway, marking every second of your fall.
"Your father was always an exaggerated man," he growled. His voice was so close to your ear that you felt the warm air moisten your skin. "Fifty buttons for a dress that only serves to be torn. It's a perfect metaphor for your kingdom, Y/N: a flawless façade to hide a crumbling structure. "
You tensed at the insult to your home, turning your head slightly to try to look over your shoulder, but he clenched his free hand on your waist to keep you in place.
"Don't talk about my father as if you knew him," you snapped, feeling contempt rise up your throat. "He did what he had to do to save his people from your ambition. If we're here, it's because the Jeons don't know what the word "border" means. You only understand "conquest". "
Jungkook let out a snort, and you heard the click of the fifth button giving way. His fingers brushed the skin of your upper back, and a shiver you couldn't control ran through you. It was a contradictory feeling: his hands were rough, callused from years of wielding the sword, but they moved with surgical precision over your spine.
"Conquest?" he repeated bitterly. My father wanted this marriage since you were born. "I remember that he took me to his office when I was seven years old. He showed me a portrait of you and said, "That girl is half of your future kingdom. Learn how to handle it or she'll handle you." I spent my entire childhood seeing you not as a friend, but as a chess piece that I had to learn to move. "
"And did you succeed?" You asked, a trace of poison in your voice. "Do you feel like you're "managing" me now, Jungkook? While you take off this dress like you're my maid? "
You felt his fingers stop halfway down your back. The pressure of his hand on your waist increased, burying itself a little in the thin fabric of the corset you were wearing underneath. In the mirror, you saw how his jaw tensed and his eyes darkened.
"I feel like we're both dogs in chains, told to bite to amuse the court," he replied, his voice becoming dangerously low. "Don't be fooled, Y/N. My father gave me this castle and this crown, but in exchange he took away my ability to choose who I want in my bed. Do you think it's an honor for me to have to convince a woman who looks at me with disgust to give me an heir? "
He continued with his task. The dress began to sag, slowly opening up and exposing your spine line. The cold air in the room hit your bare skin, making you shiver. Jungkook paused for a second, his eyes sweeping over the expanse of your back with an intensity that made you feel more naked than you really were.
"I remember," he began, and this time his tone was different, less aggressive, almost nostalgic. "the summer of fourteen. When we escape to the river and your brother almost drowns trying to follow us. You stayed in your underwear to jump into the water to get it out. You were so reckless. So full of life. "
"And you scolded me for an hour as we drove back to the castle," you added, letting out an involuntary sigh. "You said that a princess should not show herself like this to anyone. Not even before you. "
"I said it because I didn't want anyone else to see you," he confessed, and the honesty of his words struck you like a slap. "Even then you drove me crazy, Y/N. With your pride and your mania for defying every rule. I knew that one day you would be mine and the thought that others might have seen what belonged to me by contract burned me inside."
You turned sharply, even though the dress wasn't quite unbuttoned yet, forcing him to let go. The fabric fell over your shoulders, revealing the start of your white silk corset. You looked him in the eye, looking for the boy you knew, but you only found the man who bullied you.
"I don't belong to you, Jungkook," you said firmly, although your voice trembled. "This contract says that we will share a kingdom and a bed, but my mind and my will are still mine. Don't try to convince me that this is something you wanted for "us." You wanted it for power.
Jungkook took a step towards you, invading your space, forcing you to back away until your thighs collided with the edge of the dresser bench. He leaned over you, resting one hand on either side of your hips.
"Power?" He whispered, his face so close you could count his eyelashes. "I have had power since I was born. What I don't have is peace. And you... You are the only person in this world who dares to look me in the eye and tell me that I am worthless. Do you have any idea what that does to a man like me?"
His eyes went down to your mouth and then to the neckline of your corset, where your chest rose and fell agitatedly. The sexual tension in the room became almost physical, a pressure on your chest that made it difficult for you to breathe.
"I have to finish with these buttons," he said, his voice now a hoarse murmur, laden with a need he was trying to hide under duty. " And then, Y/N, we're going to have to decide whether we spend tonight as enemies destroying each other or as two people who, despite everything, know each other better than anyone else on this earth. "
He brought his hand to your shoulder, slowly pulling the drooping sleeve of your dress aside, his skin brushing against yours in a contact that lasted longer than necessary.
You fell silent, gasping for breath, as Jungkook's words floated through the dense air of the room. Your mask of coldness, the one you had built so carefully over the past five years, began to crack. You looked him in the eye, and for an instant, you didn't see the arrogant heir who had just insulted your kingdom, but the boy who used to climb up your balcony just to show you a bird's nest he'd found.
All that rage, that sharp edge with which you responded to him, was nothing more than armor. Because the truth, the one that burned your chest more than the corset, was that you loved it. You'd loved him since you were six years old, and he gave you his first wooden soldier. But then, that winter came. That night at the winter ball where you heard him talking to his father, the King, and something inside you broke.
"You don't have to go on with this, Jungkook," you whispered suddenly. Your voice was no longer poisonous, only a deep fatigue. " You don't have to pretend you care about my pride. I know what you think of me. I heard you, you know? Five years ago, in the library in the west wing. "
Jungkook froze. His hands, which were directed at the loops of your corset, stopped in midair. His eyes widened a little wider, reflecting the light from the embers.
"You heard—what?" His voice dropped an octave, becoming a hoarse murmur.
"You told your father that I was just a 'necessary obligation,'" you said, and you felt the lump in your throat close. " That you had no feelings for the girl you had grown up with and that you would marry me just to secure the northern border. I spent my entire adolescence hoping that this "contract" would be something more for you... And that night I understood that I was the only stupid one who was in love. "
You looked down, unable to continue to hold his eyes up. The silence that followed was suffocating. You expected him to laugh, confirm his words, or just walk away nonchalantly. But he did nothing of the sort.
You felt his fingers, warm and trembling, brush against your chin to force you to lift your head. When your eyes met his again, you saw no mockery. You saw a raw pain, a desperation that he had never allowed himself to show before.
"Y/N..." He let out a long sigh, almost a wail. "You're a fool. You really are. "
"Now you insult me?" You tried to regain your borderline tone, but your voice broke.
"I told you because you were pressuring me to send you away," he confessed, getting so close that his forehead brushed against yours. "He was telling me that you were a distraction, that my feelings for you made me weak, and that if I couldn't prove that I saw you as a political object, I would marry you off to a duke of the southern lands to get you out of my way. I had to lie. I had to say the cruelest thing I could think of to get him to leave you alone, to allow you to stay close to me, even if it was as an "obligation". "
You froze. Years of accumulated hatred, silent weeping nights, and curt answers in the halls of the courtroom began to falter.
"Why didn't you tell me?" You called out in a whisper, tapping weakly on his chest with your hands. "You made me hate you, Jungkook. You made me hate every memory I had of us."
"Because if I told you, you couldn't have pretended," he replied, catching your hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles with a devotion that took your breath away. "My father is an expert at reading people. I needed you to hate me so that he would believe that I had no power over you. But look at me, Y/N... really look at me. "
He forced you to let go of your hands and put his hands in the loops of your corset, but this time there was no aggression. His fingers moved with a torturous slowness, undoing the first knot in front of you. You were face to face, so close that you could feel the gallop of his heart crashing against yours.
"I've spent five years watching you walk away, watching you throw daggers at me with your eyes while I was dying to apologize to you," he continued, undoing the second lasso. "The pressure of the corset on your lungs began to ease, allowing you to breathe for the first time all night. Do you think I like this contract? I hate him. Because you deserved to be courted, you deserved to be brought you flowers and to write you ridiculous verses like the ones I read to you when we were children. You didn't deserve to be handed over as a war trophy. "
The corset loosened enough that he could tuck his hands under the silk, caressing the skin of your ribs. The contact made you let out a gasp that this time was not from fear, but from a need that you had repressed for too long.
"Jungkook..." His name came out of your lips like a plea.
"Don't hate me tonight, Y/N," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please. I know that the world wants us to be kings, to be enemies or political allies... But here, behind this lock, I just want to be the guy who loved you before it all got so complicated."
Your hands, which had once been clenched into fists, relaxed and climbed up his shoulders until they became entangled in his dark hair. You pulled it gently, forcing it to shorten the last millimeter that separated them.
"I've been so lonely," you confessed against his lips, finally dropping all your defenses.
"Not anymore," he said before capturing your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the one in the cathedral.
This kiss tasted like years of silence, shared secrets and a desperate urgency. There was no protocol, there were no princes or crowns. There were just the two of you, rediscovering yourselves under the candlelight as the corset finished falling to the floor, letting the vulnerability of both of you meet in the gloom of the room.
The kiss dragged on, not with the urgency of a stranger, but with the painful familiarity of someone who recovers something he thought was lost forever. You felt your fingers sink into the hair on the back of Jungkook's neck, tugging at it with a mixture of relief and reproach. The taste of his mouth, mixed with the trail of red wine, transported you back to the summers when they shared fruit stolen from the royal orchard, before the crowns weighed so heavily on their temples.
When they finally separated, their fronts were united. You were both gasping, the air between you charged with an electricity that was no longer just hate, but a spark of hope that you were afraid to acknowledge.
"I'm afraid to believe you," you whispered, your eyes fixed on his, which shone with an almost feverish intensity. "I've spent five years hating you to survive, Jungkook. If this is another of your political strategies, I swear I won't stand it. "
He didn't respond with words right away. Instead, he lowered her hands to the end loops of your corset, which was now only hanging from your hips. His fingers, expert and slow, undid the last knot. You felt the weight of the garment fall at your feet, leaving your body covered only by the very fine white silk camisole, almost translucent under the candlelight.
You felt exposed, not only physically, but emotionally. You had run out of armor.
"Look at me, Y/N," he asked you, his voice a silk thread. "There are no ministers here. There are no spies behind the curtains. There's just the boy who taught you to ride and the girl who swore to me that one day we'd be the greatest kings in history. "
He took a step back, but only to take off his own military coat. He threw it to the ground without looking at her, a gesture of contempt for the uniform that represented his duty. Then, he put his hands to the buttons of his white shirt. His eyes didn't leave yours for a second, as if he feared that if he blinked, you'd put back on that mask of indifference that had tormented him so much.
"Help me," he said, stopping his hands halfway across his chest. "If we're going to do this, if we're going to be one tonight, I want you to claim what's yours too."
Your hands were shaking when you raised them. Your fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, feeling the scorching heat emanating from his skin. You began to undo the buttons, one by one, with a torturous slowness. With each button you released, you discovered more about him: the curve of his shoulders, the firmness of his chest, the scars you didn't know about—records of training and battles he'd earned while you were away, hating him.
"This scar..." you whispered, brushing your fingertip against a pale mark near his shoulder. "It wasn't there before. "
"It was two years ago," he answered, closing his eyes to your touch. "An ambush in the north. I was just thinking that if I died there, I would never have a chance to tell you the truth. That I would die being your enemy and that hurt me more than steel in the flesh. "
You finished with the last button and opened his shirt, letting it fall off his shoulders. Jungkook looked imposing in the gloom; The light from the fireplace cast shadows on his defined muscles and tanned skin. He was a man now, a potential king, but when he looked at you, you saw the same Jungkook who stayed awake with you when you had nightmares.
He shortened the distance again, wrapping his bare arms around your waist. The contact of his skin against the silk of your nightgown, and yours underneath, made you let out a trembling sigh. He glued you to his body, forcing you to feel the strength of his muscles and the unbridled beating of his heart.
"Outside, the world awaits a perfect queen and a ruthless king," he whispered against your neck, his nose brushing your skin, inhaling your scent of roses and jasmine. "They hope that our union will be a formality to sign maps. But in here... here I want you to be just Y/N. My Y/N. The one who insults me, the one who challenges me and the one who, in spite of everything, loves me as much as I love her. "
He brought his hands to the straps of your nightgown, pulling them down with a delicacy that made you tear. The silk slid down your body, falling in a soft whisper on the carpet. Now there was nothing left to hide. In front of him, stripped of all clothes and of your last defenses, you gave yourself completely; There were no more secrets or lies between the two. Only the raw and beautiful reality of your body exposed before his gaze, and the certainty of two souls who had searched for each other for half a decade.
You hugged him, burying your face in his chest, feeling the scent of sandalwood and man that was so intoxicating to you. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you, protecting you from the cold and loneliness you had felt for so long.
"Five years, Jungkook," you muttered against his skin, your hands caressing his back. "Five lost years."
"We have the rest of our lives to get them back," he assured you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. "But tonight is just for us. There is no crown that weighs more than this desire."
He walked to the large four-poster bed. The linen sheets were cold, but the heat they both gave off was enough to set the room on fire. He left you on the mattress with infinite softness, as if you were made of glass, before positioning himself on you, resting his weight on his forearms so as not to crush you.
"I love you, Y/N," he said, and it was the first time you heard those words in a man's voice. "I have loved you in every letter I didn't send, in every toast I made in your honor when you were away, and in every battle I won just to make this kingdom worthy of you."
Your eyes misted up, and for the first time in years, you smiled for real. A smile that was just for him.
"Then show me," you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him toward you. "Prove me that the contract is wrong and that you don't own me... but my other half."
Jungkook lowered his head and kissed you, with a devout tenderness that made you understand that, even if the sun came out in a few hours and you had to face the court, in that bed you had already won the most important battle of your life.
Jungkook didn't rush. He stood on his elbows, watching you with an intensity that made you feel like he was reading your soul, not just looking at your body. His eyes swept over every inch of your skin with a reverence you'd never seen in him.
"You're shaking," he whispered, and his hand reached down to intertwine his fingers with yours, pressing them against the mattress.
"It's not because of the cold," you admitted in a thin voice.
It was the truth. It was the adrenaline, the relief, and the weight of five years of loneliness crumbling all at once. Jungkook let go of one of your hands and began to draw invisible lines on your belly, slowly rising towards your ribs. His fingers were warm and a little rough, and every place he touched seemed to light up in his wake.
"I spent so many nights imagining this," he confessed, lowering his head to kiss the crook of your shoulder. "In the northern campaigns, when the cold was so intense that my bones hurt, I would close my eyes and try to remember the sound of your laughter or the way you frowned when I beat you at chess. It was the only thing that kept me sane. "
You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lips against your skin. Your hand went up his arm, marveling at the firmness of his muscles. He was no longer the skinny boy you used to run with; He was a solid man, forged by duty and war.
"I thought you had forgotten me," you said, your voice charged with an honesty you would have been ashamed to show before. "At every dance, at every official dinner, you looked at me as if I were a stranger. I convinced myself that you had erased everything we were."
Jungkook stopped and looked up to meet yours. There was a deep sadness in his dark eyes.
"Never," he said. "Every time I ignored you, it was a battle with myself not to cross the room, hold your hand, and get you out of there. I had to learn to be an outsider to protect you from my own feelings. My father... He knew you were my weak point. If he found out that I still loved you like this, he would have used you as a bargaining chip much sooner. "
He came down again, this time looking for your neck. His kisses were slow, almost lazy, as if he wanted to memorize the taste of your skin. You felt his warm breath against your ear as his hands continued to explore your figure, recognizing the curves that time and maturity had molded in you.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he murmured against your skin, and the tone of his voice, so filled with genuine admiration, made you feel a lump in your throat.
You forced yourself to move, seeking to be closer to him. You entangled your legs with his, feeling the rubbing of his hairy, firm skin against yours, soft and delicate. The touch caused you to gasp, and your body, which had been tense all day, finally began to relax, asking for more.
"Jungkook..." you whispered, arching your back as his hand circled one of your breasts, caressing the nipple with his thumb with a delicacy that made you burn. "I don't want to talk about the past anymore. I don't want to think about the sunrise or the sheets. I just want you to be here. With me. "
He pulled away enough to look at you, a small, painful smile pouring across his lips.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he promised.
He brought his hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb before tilting his face to kiss you again. This kiss was different; It was deeper, more needy, as if he was trying to seal a promise that neither of them dared to say out loud. Their tongues met, dancing in a rhythm they had always known but now felt new, charged with a passion that no longer had to be hidden.
You felt the emotional tension slowly transform into a much more powerful physical need. Your hands went down his back, running down Jungkook's spine until they reached his hips, urging him to stick closer to you. He responded with a low growl, pressing his erection against your thigh, and the discharge of desire that ran through your belly took your breath away.
"I've missed you so much," you confessed between kisses, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders.
"And I to you, my queen," he answered, his voice growing hoarser. "My only queen. "
Jungkook started to go down again, but this time his kisses didn't stay on your neck. They followed the path of his caress, down your chest, stopping at every inch as if he were worshipping a temple. The slowness with which he did it was a delicious torture; It made you wish that he would hurry up, but at the same time, you wanted that moment of mutual discovery to last forever.
Jungkook moved away just a few centimeters, just enough for you to see the glow of adoration in his eyes, but not enough for you to stop feeling his warmth. His hand, firm and warm, went down your belly, leaving a trail of small spasms in its wake, until it stopped just above the junction of your thighs, where fine hair and sensitive skin made you feel more vulnerable than ever.
"Are you sure?" he whispered. His voice was a hoarse caress, charged with a restraint that made the muscles in his arms tense. "Once we cross this line, Y/N, there will be no turning back. Not only will you be my wife before the law, but... You will have entrusted me with the most sacred thing you have. "
You swallowed, feeling your heart hammer against your ribs. You looked at him, seeing the man who had spent years hiding his love under an iron mask just to keep you safe. You were no longer afraid of the contract, you were afraid of the intensity of how you felt about it.
"I'm sure, Jungkook," you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves. "I want it to be you."
He let out a long sigh, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and leaned over to leave a chaste kiss on your forehead. Then, with a slowness that made you want to scream in anticipation, it began to come down your body. It didn't position itself between your legs right away; Instead, he dedicated herself to worshipping every corner of your skin with his lips and tongue.
He kissed your ribs, stopping to listen to your frantic heartbeat. He went down to your navel, tracing circles with the wet tip of his tongue that made your toes shrink and your belly contract. Jungkook moved with the patience of a craftsman, as if he was discovering a treasure that had been buried for centuries.
"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his warm breath sending electric shocks straight into your pelvis. "All this time, imagining what you would be like... And reality takes my breath away. "
His hands went down to spread your legs apart with extreme delicacy. You felt yourself dying of shame for a second, the diffused light of the candles bathing your intimacy completely exposed before his expert eyes, but he didn't give you time to hide. Jungkook knelt between your thighs and rested his large hands on the inside of your knees, keeping them wide open.
His gaze swept over your femininity with an almost religious reverence. There was no vulgar lust in his expression, but a pure, hungry fascination with the center of your crotch, which was already beginning to glow subtly.
"Jungkook..." you gasped, covering your eyes with your arm, feeling the heat rise up your cheeks at the intensity of his scrutiny.
"Look at me, Y/N," he asked you, his voice vibrating with a soft but undeniable command. You slowly pulled your arm away and looked at him; He was there, the future king of an empire, kneeling before you as if you were his only deity. "Don't hide from me. There is nothing in you that is not worthy of worship."
He brought his hand to you, and you felt the first direct contact. His long fingers brushed your with the softness of a petal, barely a touch, but it was enough to make you let out a high-pitched moan that echoed throughout the room. It was the first time someone touched you like that, the first time you felt that pang of pleasure so clear, electric and overwhelming.
"Shh, don't worry," he whispered, watching your reaction intently as his eyes darkened. "Just feel."
He began to move his fingertips in slow circles, discovering your sensitivity, learning the exact rhythm that made your breath choppy. I was in no hurry to penetrate you; He seemed to enjoy endlessly watching your eyes glaze over and your hips rise unconsciously seeking more of his touch. His fingers slid down, finding the thick moisture that was already beginning to gush out of your canal, and he let out a low growl, a hoarse sound of pure satisfaction.
"You're so ready for me..." he muttered, and before you could process his words, he lowered his head completely.
The first contact of his hot, moist tongue against your center was like a burst of white light behind your eyelids. You shouted his name, sinking your hands in despair into the linen sheets, as he gave himself to the task of worshipping you with his mouth. Jungkook was not careless; He used his tongue with a precision that made you lose your sense of reality. It alternated long, firm licks from bottom to top with soft suctions directly at your most sensitive point, crushing your button and bringing you to an edge you didn't know existed.
You felt the rubbing of his nose against your pubis, the suffocating heat of his breath and the obscene wetness of his mouth consuming you completely. It was an absolute sensory discovery. Every time you tried to close your legs, overwhelmed by the intensity of the stimulus, his firm hands on the inside of your thighs reminded you that he was in charge and that he wasn't done with you.
"Jungkook, please... I don't know what this is..." You cried, your head moving back and forth on the pillow, losing control of your own body.
He paused for a second, only to look down at you, his lips shining with your own wetness and his eyes completely darkened with desire.
"It's the pleasure that belongs to you, Y/N," he said in a thick voice that seemed to come from the depths of his chest. "And only I am going to give it to you. Always me."
He went down again, this time deeper, exploring with his fingers the entrance to your canal while his tongue continued to work relentlessly on your clitoris. He inserted a finger, very slowly, feeling the natural resistance of your virginity. You immediately tensed up under the new pressure, but he stopped, kissing your inner thighs parsimonously to relax before continuing. He was preparing you, widening you with infinite patience, lubricating you with his own fingers, making sure that when the time came for real union, you would only feel love and not pain.
The sensation of his fingers moving inside you, in unison with the wet strokes of his tongue, pushed you to the absolute limit. You felt a growing pressure in your belly, an addictive tension that was crying out to be released. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving more firmly and deeply, mimicking what would soon be his own penetration.
"Jungkook! You exclaimed in a broken cry, and suddenly the world exploded.
Your body arched violently upward as the first orgasm of your life shook you from head to toe in uncontrollable spasms. It was such a powerful release that you felt your lungs forgetting to breathe, your vaginal walls squeezing hard. Jungkook stood there, holding your thighs, receiving every contraction of your body directly against his face and fingers, drinking from your flow as if it were the most precious elixir of his kingdom.
When the tremors finally stopped and you collapsed against the mattress, exhausted and with your heart pounding, Jungkook immediately climbed up to cover you with his body. He kissed you with demented tenderness, savoring you on your own lips, mixing his juices, while his hands caressed your tousled hair.
"We're not done yet, my queen," he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his erection, huge, hard, throbbing, pressing hard against your thigh. " This has been just for you. Now... Now I want you to know what it means to be one flesh. "
You stood there, sunk in the silk mattress, your lungs burning from the effort to catch your breath after that burst of pleasure you never imagined possible. Your body felt light, almost ethereal, but at the same time strangely aware of every inch of skin. Jungkook slowly squeezed in, coming out from between your legs, and you saw him stand next to the bed.
The light of the candles, which were already beginning to burn out, bathed his figure in a golden halo. You watched him in silence, with half-open eyes, as he brought his hands to the zippers of his ball pants. The sound of leather and fabric slipping was the only thing that broke the sacred silence of the bedroom. When he finally got rid of the last thing covering him, standing completely naked before you, the air escaped from your lungs for a very different reason than the previous orgasm.
It was imposing. Jungkook had always been athletic, but the man in front of you was a work of art carved in stone and desire. His legs were strong, marked by years of military training, and his belly was defined by muscles that tensed with his every move. But your eyes couldn't help but go down to his crotch, and that's when you felt your face burn as if an ember had been brought to you.
You let out a brief, nervous laugh, a mixture of disbelief and modesty that you could not contain. You covered your face with both hands, sinking your fingers into your hot cheeks, as the echo of your own laughter echoed through the canopy of the bed.
"What are you laughing at, little queen?" His voice went deep, charged with a playful but intense vibration. You heard the mattress give way again under his weight as he knelt on the bed.
"It's just that..." you murmured between your fingers, sticking out only one eye to look at him—... "Jungkook, that's impossible. "
"Impossible?"
"You're not going to fit," you blurted out, and this time the laughter was pure nervousness. "You're going to... You're going to break me. I've known you forever, but I never imagined you'd be... like this. It's too much."
Jungkook let out a low growl, one that wasn't anger, but a masculine satisfaction that made him smile halfway. He didn't immediately come over to possess you. Instead, he sat on his heels in front of you, allowing you to process the vision of his manhood. His long fingers surrounded his own erection, which pulsed with a force that intimidated and fascinated you in equal measure. In a slow, deliberate motion, he began to move his hand up and down, spreading the pre-cum that glistened at the tip along the entire length of his member, preparing to ease the way for you.
The wet sound of his own hand against his skin made you close your eyes again, but you couldn't help but imagine it. You knew I was doing that for you, so that the transition from virgin to wife would be as painless as possible.
"Look at me, Y/N," he said, and his tone was no longer joking. It was a royal order, but charged with a tenderness that disarmed you. You pulled your hands away from your face little by little. "The human body is wise, and mine has been waiting for years to fit into yours. I'm not going to break you. I'm going to complete you."
He moved closer, crawling on the bed until his body was back on top of yours. The contrast between his size and your delicate figure has never been so apparent. His thighs, wide and firm, positioned themselves on the outside of yours, forcing you to open again. This time, you felt the tip of his erection, wet and hot, brushing your entrance, right where you still felt the throb of your recent orgasm.
"Jungkook, wait..." you gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, looking for an anchor.
"Shhh... Look me in the eye," he whispered, lowering himself to capture your lips in a deep kiss, a kiss that tasted like promise. "I'm not going to move if you don't ask me. We are going to go millimeter by millimeter. I want you to feel every part of me coming into your life."
You felt how he rested all his weight in his hands at the sides of your head, hovering over you like a protective shadow. He started pushing, very slowly, with a constant and massive pressure that forced you to arch your back against the silk mattress. The feeling of fulfillment was immediate, overwhelming; You felt the raw texture of its veins and the scorching heat of its thickness stretching your skin millimeter by millimeter, forcing your vaginal walls to adapt to it. A groan of surprise and involuntary submission escaped from your throat. It was an experience that overwhelmed you, as if you were being claimed not only by the man you loved, but by an indomitable force of nature.
"It hurts a little," you admitted in a thin voice, pressing your nails into the bare skin of his back, feeling the physical barrier of your innocence firmly oppose his advance.
Jungkook stopped immediately, freezing the thrust. His forehead rested against yours, and you could see the beads of sweat running down his temples, glistening in the candlelight from the superhuman effort he was making to contain his own instincts and not lose control. His eyes were darkened, almost black with dilation, fixed on yours with an absolute, possessive devotion.
"I know, love. "I know," he murmured against your lips, giving you small wet kisses to draw your attention away from the sting. "Breathe with me. Just a little more and we'll be one forever. There will be no more contracts, no fathers, no kingdoms between us. Just you and me."
He waited with infinite patience for your muscles to give way, for your breathing to match his in the midst of that intimate invasion. Only when he felt that you had stopped tensing up and that your femininity was beginning to soften from the heat, did he push again. With a firm, slow, vertical thrust, he finally broke the last vestige of your childhood.
You let out a muffled sob, a mixture of sharp pain and emotional satisfaction so deep it brought tears to your eyes, as you felt him bury himself deep to the root, filling the void you had endured during those five years of solitude. Your insides contracted violently around his member, trapping him in a suffocating grip.
Jungkook stood completely motionless inside you, united at the deepest point possible, allowing the bloodstain that tomorrow the court would see to spread beneath you on the linen sheets as the final, irrevocable seal of your destiny. He put his arms around you, pressing you to his beating chest, and for the first time all night, you felt that the crown was no longer weighing anything.
"That's it," he whispered in your ear, his voice completely broken with emotion and desire. "You're mine, Y/N. And I am, at last, completely yours."
Time seemed to freeze the instant Jungkook finished reclaiming that space that, by right of love and contract, now belonged to him. You gasped, your eyes misty and your nails stuck in his shoulders, feeling that immense pressure that seemed to expand you from within, the pulse of his erection beating directly against your cervix. Jungkook didn't move; He stood there, buried in you, his arm muscles trembling from the effort of holding his weight so as not to crush you as he waited for your body to accept the anatomy of a warrior.
"Breathe, my life... Look at me and breathe," he whispered. His voice was a hoarse thread of pure agony and devotion.
You felt the piercing sting of your lost innocence, but above all, you felt that scorching fullness. Jungkook was too big, a presence that filled you completely, making you feel small and fragile under his body. Every time you tried to relax, the throbbing of his own cock inside you, releasing the first few drops of pre-cum, reminded you how real and carnal this all was.
He lowered his head and began to kiss your tears, sweeping the salt from your cheeks with a tenderness that contrasted with the brute strength of his hips wedged between your thighs. His lips sought yours in a slow, deep kiss, giving you time to process the burning feeling of being one flesh with him.
"Tell me when you're ready," he murmured against your lips, brushing them. I won't move until the pain turns into something else. I don't want you to remember me in pain, Y/N. Never again.
What seemed like hours passed, although they were only minutes of sacred silence where only the crackling of the embers and their rhythmic breaths could be heard. Gradually, the burning began to transform into a dull heat, an addictive electric pulsation that was born right where their bodies came together. Your body, traitor and in love, began to give way, lubricating itself naturally, wrapping around it and finally recognizing the owner of its sighs.
You nodded slightly against his shoulder, letting out a trembling sigh that hit his neck. Jungkook closed his eyes, letting out a low growl, a purely animal sound, and began to move.
It was an almost imperceptible movement at first. A slow rock, a retreat of just a few inches that dragged your inner walls before sinking back down with extreme delicacy. You gasped, your mouth half-open, feeling your skin stretch to accommodate each thrust. It was a beautiful and terrifying sensation at the same time; You felt completely invaded, but in a way that made you feel whole for the first time in five years.
"Damn it... you're so tight... so perfect," Jungkook gasped. His jaw was so tense that you could see the veins in his neck tick under the candlelight.
He increased the pace, but only a little, maintaining that deliberate and deep cadence that allowed you to enjoy every millimeter of his entrance. The wet sound of friction began to mix with the rubbing of the sheets. Every time he slipped out, you felt an unbearable emptiness, and every time he went back in, a burst of heat ran down your spine. His hands came down from your shoulders to intertwine with yours on the pillow, squeezing them tightly, anchoring you to him in this mutual discovery.
"Does it still hurt?" He asked, pausing for a second to look at you. His eyes were injected with desire, fixed on your blushing face, but his worry was what dominated his expression.
"A little... But don't stop," you whispered, arching your back up unconsciously, looking for it to go deeper. "I want to feel you, Jungkook. I want you to erase all this time that we were away."
Those words were the trigger that ended his last trace of self-control. Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, a snort full of lust, and began to charge more firmly, with drier and deeper punches, although without losing the elegance of his movements. The four-poster bed creaked gently to the rhythm of his passion, a sound that mingled with your unbridled gasps and hoarse growls from him. With each movement, fullness became pleasure; a dark, dense, moist and deep pleasure that clouded your judgment completely.
You felt him hit points inside you that you had never explored, sending electric shocks straight into your belly. The pain was completely gone, replaced by a voracious need for me to never let go of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist unconsciously, drawing him in more, wanting to remove any atom of air between their bodies, forcing him to sink to bottom.
"You're mine... My wife, my queen..." he whispered against your lips, each word punctuated by a hard thrust that made you see stars and lose track of reality.
Jungkook raised one of his hands to caress your face, brushing the sweaty hair away from your forehead as he moved with an increasing and uncontrolled intensity. His sweaty body shone in the gloom, a vision of power and absolute dedication. He was giving you everything: his strength, his vulnerability, and the secret of his eternal love.
You reached the edge of the abyss almost without realizing it. Pleasure built up in your belly like a storm about to burst, making you emit wet, broken sounds. Jungkook noticed it instantly; He felt the first contractions of your canal hugging him tightly, he saw how your eyes rolled and how your body began to tremble under his. He picked up the pace, his movements becoming a little more erratic, more urgent, taking you by the hand toward that climax you both shared.
"Jungkook! You shouted his name, your voice broken with emotion, as the world crumbled into a thousand pieces of light and heat.
Your orgasm shook you with a force that left you breathless, your vaginal walls squeezing his member into violent spasms. Jungkook was not far behind. Feeling the emptiness of your liberation sucking it in, it let out a guttural roar that seemed to be born from its bowels, sank for the last time in a brutal way, as deep as it could, and poured into you with an intensity that made you vibrate. Waves of thick, burning semen filled your insides, mixing with your own moisture and the trace of your innocence. He stood there, trembling over you, burying his face in the hollow of your neck as his seed sealed the contract of their lives for good.
Silence returned to the room, but it was a different silence. It was no longer hostile, nor annoying. It was a silence full of peace and a satisfaction that can only be found after a war won.
Jungkook slumped down next to you carefully, but he didn't allow you to walk away. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping you in a protective embrace as you both caught your breath. The sheets were scrambled, stained with proof of their union, but at the time, none of that mattered.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, kissing the crown of your head. Now and for all the winters we have left.
You snuggled up against him, feeling his heartbeat against your ear. The prince and princess who hated each other had died that night in that bed, and in their place, two lovers were born who, at last, no longer had to pretend.
(...)
The sun began to filter timidly through the heavy velvet curtains, drawing lines of golden dust in the dense air of the room. It wasn't the sudden awakening you'd imagined for years of nightmares about this day; It was a slow awakening, enveloped in the warmth of a body that no longer felt like that of an enemy, but as your safe harbor.
You opened your eyes heavily, your body feeling strangely sore but light, as if you had taken off an armor you had been wearing for centuries. The first thing you saw was Jungkook's face, a few centimeters from yours. He was not asleep. He watched you with infinite calm, his dark hair tousled on the pillow and an expression of peace that you had never seen him wear in court.
"Good morning, my queen," he whispered, and his voice, hoarse with sleep, sent a delicious shiver down your spine.
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled the details of the night: the confessions, the urgency of his hands, and the way he called you his over and over again. You shifted under the linen sheets, feeling the rubbing of his bare skin against yours, and you looked down at the bed. There, between the two of you, the stain of dried crimson on the immaculate white was the silent testimony of your surrender and of the sealed covenant.
"They're coming soon," you said in a whisper, feeling a knot of nervousness at the thought of the maidens and counselors waiting behind the door.
"Let them come," Jungkook replied with a calm smugness. He moved closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing you to his chest. "They already have what they wanted."
Three sharp and ceremonious knocks echoed through the wooden door. It was the warning of the protocol. The time for intimacy was over; The time of kings was beginning.
Jungkook sat up, giving you one last quick and possessive kiss on the lips before reaching for his silk robe. You did the same, covering yourself in a thin robe, trying to keep your composure as he walked to the door and turned the key that last night looked like the lock of a cell and today felt like the key to a shelter.
The doors opened wide. The ladies-in-waiting entered with their heads bowed, carrying basins of warm water and perfumed oils, followed by the eldest housekeeper, whose only mission was to pick up the central sheet. You saw the woman approach the bed with professional coldness, removing the stained linen with a bow directed at both of them.
You looked at Jungkook. He was standing by the window, the daylight highlighting his aristocratic profile. For a second, his iron mask was back in place: the tense jaw, the icy gaze, the crown prince no one dared to challenge. But before the housekeeper left the room to show the "proof" to the King and the council, Jungkook looked for you with his eyes.
In that brief moment, he gave you an almost imperceptible smile, a spark of complicity that said: "This is our secret. The rest is just theater."
Hours later, you were walking alongside him through the great throne room. The weight of your new gold and sapphire crown was real, and the cheers of the court echoed through the stone vaults. Everyone celebrated peace, the union of two kingdoms and political victory. But you, while holding your head high and the serene expression of a perfect princess, felt Jungkook's hand seek yours under the wide folds of his royal cloaks.
His fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing them with a firmness that reminded you of the heat of the night before. You were no longer the girl who climbed the cherry trees, nor was he the boy who scolded you for being reckless. They were the sovereigns of an empire, yes, but above all, they were two people who had survived hatred to find themselves in the truth.
"Are you ready, Y/N?" He asked you in a low voice, still looking straight ahead at the thrones that awaited them.
"With you, always," you replied, squeezing his hand with the same intensity.
They walked together to their seats, echoing their footsteps ushering in an era. You knew there would be more wars, more intrigues, and more pressures, but you were no longer afraid. For that night, amid the scent of sandalwood and the ashes of the fireplace, you had learned that there was no contract stronger than that which is signed with the soul, nor a crown more valuable than the love of him whom you once called the enemy.
(...)
Five years had passed since that night when the lock of the royal room dictated the beginning of your new life. Five years since the bloodstains and the truths shouted between sighs sealed a pact that no minister would have been able to draft.
You walked along the marble balcony of the east wing, the same one that overlooked the gardens where, in another life, Jungkook chased you through the rose bushes. The afternoon air was crisp, but you no longer felt that constant chill in your bones that used to accompany you when you were alone. The weight of your crown no longer caused migraines; now it was simply a part of you, as natural as the surname Jeon you proudly carried.
"I knew I'd find you here," Jungkook's voice, now deeper and charged with the authority of a King who has won a thousand political battles, echoed behind you.
You turned around with a soft smile, watching as he walked towards you. He no longer wore the rigid dress uniform; He wore a dark silk shirt unbuttoned at the collar and an expression of utter relaxation that he only showed when the doors of the great hall closed.
You watched him approach, noticing how time had only served to polish his beauty. He had some new frown lines around his eyes, the product of sleepless nights studying maps and tracts, but when his eyes met yours, you kept seeing the boy who gave you a wooden soldier.
"The southern emissaries are gone," he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you to his chest with that possessive familiarity that had never diminished. "They say they've never seen a kingdom so prosperous, or a couple so prosperous... "synchronized". "
"If they only knew we spent half our time arguing over grain taxes," you chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder.
"Arguing with you is my favorite activity, Y/N," he murmured, kissing your temple. It keeps me on my toes. "It reminds me that my Queen is still the most stubborn and brilliant woman in the entire alliance."
You looked down at the lower garden, where a small three-year-old boy was running after a hunting cub, closely followed by two guards trying to hide their smiles. The little heir of the Jeons had his father's dark, messy hair and your same spark of rebellion in his eyes.
"Look at Minjun," you said, feeling a sweet warmth in your chest. "He's trying to climb the cherry tree."
Jungkook let out a low laugh, a vibration you felt against your own back.
"Like mother, like son. I remember a certain princess who almost broke her leg doing exactly the same thing. I had to rescue her and endure her insults all the way back."
"You rescued me because you wanted to be the hero, Jungkook," you reminded him, turning in his arms to hang from his neck. "Admit it."
"I admit that I have always been at your feet, even if I tried very hard to look like an arrogant prince," he confessed, looking at you with a devotion that had not died down a single day in these five years. "Sometimes I stop to think about that first night... in how close we were to letting ourselves be consumed by pride."
You felt a chill as you remembered the tension back then, the way feigned hatred almost robbed them of happiness. Jungkook lowered his hand to your belly, still flat under the silk of your dress, but where you both knew that a new life was starting to grow again. His touch was soft, protective, loaded with a promise of the future.
"We fulfilled the contract, Y/N," he whispered, lowering his voice until it became a secret only to your ears. "We gave them peace, we gave them the heirs, we gave them the stability they wanted. But what they can never take away from us is that this... This was not because of them."
"It was for us," you added, searching for his lips.
The kiss was slow, loaded with the history they had built together. It was no longer the desperate kiss of two strangers forced together; It was the kiss of two battle buddies who had turned a forced marriage into an empire of love.
As the sun set behind the mountains of your former home, illuminating the horizon with orange and violet hues, you understood that "happily ever after" was not a gift of fate, but something you had both fought and won, millimeter by millimeter, in the privacy of your bedroom and in the coldness of your throne.
Jungkook pressed you tighter against him, looking towards his kingdom, but with his heart set only on the woman in his arms.
"I love you, my Queen," he said, and you knew he would say it every night until the crowns were dust again.
"And I to you, my King," you replied, knowing that, at last, the story of the princess and prince who hated each other was over, giving way to the legend of the kings who loved each other against all odds.
END
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A/N: So, this is officially my very first OS and I’m not gonna lie, I'm absolute wreck of nerves right now lmao. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any thoughts or feedback are more than welcome! ❤️
Screaming because I finally found the courage to post this!! 🥹 If you love royal AUs, forced marriages, and a good dose of tension, this one's for you! Hope you love it! 💕
tags: enemies to lovers, royalty au, arranged marriage, childhood acquaintances to lovers, forced proximity, smut, angst with happy ending, virginity, possessive jungkook, shared bed, first time.
tropes: "we grew up together but we hate each other", "only one bed", "marriage of convenience", "i lied to protect you", wedding night protocol, "you are mine by contract and by blood".
warnings: 18+, explicit smut, virgin!reader, deflowering / loss of virginity, blood (from deflowering), finger fucking, fingering, cunnilingus, oral sex (f. receiving), heavy praise kink, body worship, stretching, deep penetration, size difference, slow and deliberate pace, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, internal ejaculation / creampie, marking, bed creaking, rubbing, wet sounds, overstimulation, post-orgasm aftercare, dominant but gentle jungkook, submissive reader, mutual pining, contract marriage consummation.
word count: 11.6k
summary: Jungkook is the stoic and ruthless heir to the powerful Jeon Kingdom, and you are the princess of a realm forced into an alliance to secure borders. Bound by a political contract designed to prevent further blood, you are forced into a marriage with the boy you once loved in the gardens—and the man you’ve spent the last five years hating with every fiber of your being after an unforgivable betrayal.
As the court demands proof of your union and the crown weighs heavy on your brows, you must navigate a single night behind locked doors where the armor of your pride completely disappears. You thought you were just a duty to him, but as the masks fall in the wedding chamber, you'll soon discover that Jungkook has been playing a much longer game to keep you safe... and he has no intention of letting his queen go.
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The rattle of the carriage was a rhythmic torture that stuck at the base of your skull. Every bump on the road to the capital of the Jeon Kingdom reminded you that, with each meter advanced, your freedom was a little further behind, blurred on the horizon by the borders of your own home.
You wore the heaviest traveling dress your maids could find, armor of dark blue velvet and lace that protected you, at least symbolically, from the outside world. Your fingers, gloved, sank into the upholstery of the seat. You hadn't looked at Jungkook in the last three hours. You knew exactly what he was doing without having to see him: he would be leaning against the opposite backrest, with one leg crossed over the other, looking at the map of his new lands, or, worse, watching you with that silent smugness that had always driven you crazy.
"You can stop smashing the seat, Y/N," his voice cut through the air, deep and charged with an indifference you knew was feigned. "The silk of this carriage costs more than the dowry that your father bargained for until the last minute. You don't want to start your life here by owing repairs."
You tensed up. There it was. The same tone of superiority that he used when you were ten years old and he managed to knock you off the wooden horse. You forced yourself to let go of the upholstery and crossed your hands on your lap, turning your head to fix an icy gaze on him.
"If you think my dowry is scarce, you could have left me at the border," you replied with venom. " I'm sure we would both have been much happier. But of course, the Crown Prince always gets what he wants, even if what he gets is a wife who can't even stand the air you breathe."
Jungkook let out a dry laugh, a sound without a trace of humor. He slammed the map shut and leaned forward, invading your personal space. He smelled of leather, old paper and that aroma of cedar wood that always identified him.
"Make no mistake. I didn't "want" this. I wanted a secure border and an end to the skirmishes in the north. You are only the wax seal on the contract, Y/N. Nothing else."
Those words should have hurt, but they only fueled the fire of your contempt. The wedding had been an obscene display of wealth: white flowers that smelled of death, songs that sounded like elegy, and that moment in the cathedral where, in front of the archbishop, you had to put your hand on his. You felt his pulse, firm and steady, while yours galloped wildly. At that moment, as the village cheered a union you hated, you realized that Jungkook was no longer the kid you used to hide with in kitchens to steal cakes. He was a stranger made of stone and duty.
The carriage finally stopped. The sound of trumpets announced their arrival at the Jeon Grand Castle. The doors opened and royal protocol took over. You were forced to accept his hand to come down. His fingers squeezed yours with unnecessary firmness, a silent warning before you both had to pretend to court.
The reception was eternal. Bows, empty speeches and the scrutinizing gaze of your father-in-law, the King, who analyzed you as if you were a purebred horse that should give good heirs. During the entire welcome dinner, you barely had a bite. Jungkook, sitting next to you on your rightful throne, fulfilled his role perfectly: he poured you wine, commented on trifles about the weather, and occasionally brushed your hand with his just to let the nobles see how "lucky" they were. Every touch burned you with rage.
Finally, the ordeal ended. The official "Wedding Night", the one that everyone was waiting for with morbid curiosity, had arrived.
You were escorted to the royal apartments by your ladies. It was a huge room, lit only by the fire in the fireplace. And there, in the center, the bed. A monster of carved wood and linen sheets that seemed to mock you.
The door opened and Jungkook walked in. He looked tired, but his eyes shone with an intensity you hadn't seen all day. He locked the door and the sound of the bolt snapping in was like a shot in the silence.
You stood motionless in the center of the room, your feet sunk into the thick crimson carpet. Your shoulders were heavy; The wire structure and jewels of your wedding dress made you feel like a puppet that had its threads cut. You didn't dare turn around. You didn't want to see Jungkook, you didn't want to confirm that the boy who once challenged you to a race for the stables was the same man who now shared your breath in the gloom of a royal bedroom.
"Are you going to stay there all night, Y/N?" His voice came from behind, loaded with a tiredness that seemed to come from years, not hours. "The dinner ended an hour ago. Protocol is dead for today. You can stop pretending that you are a marble statue. "
You closed your eyes tightly. That tone. That quiet arrogance that always made you want to scream. You turned around slowly. Jungkook was taking off his white dress gloves, throwing them on a velvet chair with a blood-boiling nonchalance. His hair was slightly tousled and the first buttons of his jacket were unbuttoned.
"I'm not pretending," you said, and your voice sounded more broken than you would have liked. "I'm trying to assimilate how we ended up here. You and me. It's a joke in bad taste, Jungkook. "
He let out a dry laugh, without a trace of joy, as he approached the table where a glass jug of wine rested. A drink was poured, the sound of liquid falling down was the only thing that filled the void between you.
"A joke?" "No, it's politics," he replied, turning his back on you. "This is what we were told would happen since we were ten years old and we were forced to hold hands in the garden. "Someday, Jungkook, she will be your queen. Someday, Y/N, he will be your lord." You knew it. Don't pretend to be surprised now that the bill has arrived to be collected. "
"I knew it would happen, but I didn't think you'd be so..." You fell silent, looking for the word.
"So what?" He turned, glass in hand, fixing his dark eyes on yours. " So cold? So distant? What did you expect, Y/N? That after five years without speaking to each other, since that last argument in the lake, I received you with open arms and promises of eternal love? We know each other too well to lie to each other like that."
You walked to the dresser, needing something to do with your hands so they wouldn't shake. You began to unhook the heavy veil of your hairstyle, but your fingers, numb with nerves, became entangled in the silver hairpins. You grunted in frustration, tugging at your own hair.
Suddenly, you felt his presence. Jungkook had moved with that quiet speed he had always had. His hands were positioned over yours, stopping you. The contact was electric, a heat shock that made you hold your breath. It's been years since you've had it so close.
"You're going to pull your hair out," he whispered. His breath brushed the back of your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine. Leave me.
"I can do it alone," you insisted, trying to push you away, but he gently squeezed your wrists.
"No, you can't. This hairstyle requires three maidens and you are alone with me. Stay put. It's an order, if that is of any use to you now. "
You stiffened as his long, skillful fingers began to work on your hair. You could see it in the reflection in the mirror: the Crown Prince, the warrior everyone was talking about, focused on removing diamond hairpins with a delicacy that didn't match the tension emanating from his body. Your eyes met on the glass, and for a second, the hatred dissipated to give way to raw melancholy.
"I remember when you fell off the cherry tree," he said suddenly, his voice barely a whisper as he pulled out the last piece of silver. "You had flowers in your hair and you were crying because you had torn your favorite dress. I helped you remove them all before your mother saw you. "
"And then you told me I was a fool for climbing so high," you remembered, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "You always had to have the last word, Jungkook. You always had to be the one who knew the most. "
"And you always had to be the one who didn't listen," he replied.
The veil finally fell to the ground, like dead skin. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders, and Jungkook didn't immediately withdraw his hands. His fingers brushed the skin of your neck, a minimal, almost accidental contact, but one that weighed tons.
"We're not those kids anymore, Y/N," he said, and his voice changed, deeper, more dangerous. "Outside this room, we are two strangers who must rule. But inside—" His hands went down to your shoulders, squeezing them with a firmness that forced you to stare at him in the mirror—... "Inside we are two people bound by a contract that demands blood and heirs. "
He let go of you abruptly, as if you were burning, and returned to his glass of wine. The silence fell again, denser than before. You sat on the dresser bench, feeling exhausted.
"Why didn't you look at me during the ceremony?" You asked, breaking your calm. Not once. "You made me feel like you were marrying a piece of furniture from the cathedral. "
Jungkook drank the rest of his wine in one gulp and put the glass down on the table with a thud. He turned to you, and this time, the mask of indifference had cracked. There was fire in his eyes, a mixture of rage and something that looked like pent-up hunger.
"Because if I looked at you, Y/N, it would have reminded me why I hated this arrangement so much," he blurted out, beginning to walk toward you with slow, heavy steps. "If I looked at you, I would see the woman who despises me and remember that I am going to spend the rest of my days tied to someone who would rather be anywhere else in the world. Do you think it's easy for me? Do you think I like knowing that the only reason you're in my bed tonight is because a piece of paper says so? "
He stopped in front of you, forcing you to lift your head to hold his gaze.
"I know there are guards at the door," you continued, ignoring the lump in your throat. "I know the bridesmaids will come at dawn. I know what has to be in those sheets, Jungkook. I'm not naïve. I have grown in this court as much as you have. "
"Then stop looking at me like I'm the executioner," he snapped, leaning over you, resting his hands on the dressing table on either side of your body, locking you in.
The space between you shrank until there was only a sigh away. You could smell the red wine and the metallic aroma of its armor. The hatred was there, palpable, but beneath it, an electric current of mutual recognition was beginning to boil. They knew each other too well; You knew the twitch in his jaw when he was nervous, and he knew the way your pulse quickened at the base of your throat when you were afraid.
"It's five hours before dawn," Jungkook whispered, and his gaze dropped to your lips before returning to your eyes. "We can spend them yelling at each other or remembering how much we hate each other... Or we can accept that, for one night, duty is the only thing we have left. "
He brought a hand behind your back, looking for the start of the endless row of buttons on your dress. His fingers brushed against the exposed skin of your neck and you closed your eyes, letting out a gasp you couldn't contain.
"This is not love, Jungkook," you warned, although your hands, of their own volition, rose to rest on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart under the silk of his shirt.
"I know," he replied, and for the first time all night, his voice sounded almost human, almost vulnerable. "It's just the truth. And the truth is, even if we hate each other, tonight there is no one else in the world for us but the other. "
He began to undo the first button, very slowly, as if he wanted every second of that humiliation—or that surrender—to last forever.
You felt the first tug on your back, a dry movement as Jungkook's fingers struggled against the first mother-of-pearl button. The silence in the room was so absolute that you could swear you heard the pendulum clock mechanism in the hallway, marking every second of your fall.
"Your father was always an exaggerated man," he growled. His voice was so close to your ear that you felt the warm air moisten your skin. "Fifty buttons for a dress that only serves to be torn. It's a perfect metaphor for your kingdom, Y/N: a flawless façade to hide a crumbling structure. "
You tensed at the insult to your home, turning your head slightly to try to look over your shoulder, but he clenched his free hand on your waist to keep you in place.
"Don't talk about my father as if you knew him," you snapped, feeling contempt rise up your throat. "He did what he had to do to save his people from your ambition. If we're here, it's because the Jeons don't know what the word "border" means. You only understand "conquest". "
Jungkook let out a snort, and you heard the click of the fifth button giving way. His fingers brushed the skin of your upper back, and a shiver you couldn't control ran through you. It was a contradictory feeling: his hands were rough, callused from years of wielding the sword, but they moved with surgical precision over your spine.
"Conquest?" he repeated bitterly. My father wanted this marriage since you were born. "I remember that he took me to his office when I was seven years old. He showed me a portrait of you and said, "That girl is half of your future kingdom. Learn how to handle it or she'll handle you." I spent my entire childhood seeing you not as a friend, but as a chess piece that I had to learn to move. "
"And did you succeed?" You asked, a trace of poison in your voice. "Do you feel like you're "managing" me now, Jungkook? While you take off this dress like you're my maid? "
You felt his fingers stop halfway down your back. The pressure of his hand on your waist increased, burying itself a little in the thin fabric of the corset you were wearing underneath. In the mirror, you saw how his jaw tensed and his eyes darkened.
"I feel like we're both dogs in chains, told to bite to amuse the court," he replied, his voice becoming dangerously low. "Don't be fooled, Y/N. My father gave me this castle and this crown, but in exchange he took away my ability to choose who I want in my bed. Do you think it's an honor for me to have to convince a woman who looks at me with disgust to give me an heir? "
He continued with his task. The dress began to sag, slowly opening up and exposing your spine line. The cold air in the room hit your bare skin, making you shiver. Jungkook paused for a second, his eyes sweeping over the expanse of your back with an intensity that made you feel more naked than you really were.
"I remember," he began, and this time his tone was different, less aggressive, almost nostalgic. "the summer of fourteen. When we escape to the river and your brother almost drowns trying to follow us. You stayed in your underwear to jump into the water to get it out. You were so reckless. So full of life. "
"And you scolded me for an hour as we drove back to the castle," you added, letting out an involuntary sigh. "You said that a princess should not show herself like this to anyone. Not even before you. "
"I said it because I didn't want anyone else to see you," he confessed, and the honesty of his words struck you like a slap. "Even then you drove me crazy, Y/N. With your pride and your mania for defying every rule. I knew that one day you would be mine and the thought that others might have seen what belonged to me by contract burned me inside."
You turned sharply, even though the dress wasn't quite unbuttoned yet, forcing him to let go. The fabric fell over your shoulders, revealing the start of your white silk corset. You looked him in the eye, looking for the boy you knew, but you only found the man who bullied you.
"I don't belong to you, Jungkook," you said firmly, although your voice trembled. "This contract says that we will share a kingdom and a bed, but my mind and my will are still mine. Don't try to convince me that this is something you wanted for "us." You wanted it for power.
Jungkook took a step towards you, invading your space, forcing you to back away until your thighs collided with the edge of the dresser bench. He leaned over you, resting one hand on either side of your hips.
"Power?" He whispered, his face so close you could count his eyelashes. "I have had power since I was born. What I don't have is peace. And you... You are the only person in this world who dares to look me in the eye and tell me that I am worthless. Do you have any idea what that does to a man like me?"
His eyes went down to your mouth and then to the neckline of your corset, where your chest rose and fell agitatedly. The sexual tension in the room became almost physical, a pressure on your chest that made it difficult for you to breathe.
"I have to finish with these buttons," he said, his voice now a hoarse murmur, laden with a need he was trying to hide under duty. " And then, Y/N, we're going to have to decide whether we spend tonight as enemies destroying each other or as two people who, despite everything, know each other better than anyone else on this earth. "
He brought his hand to your shoulder, slowly pulling the drooping sleeve of your dress aside, his skin brushing against yours in a contact that lasted longer than necessary.
You fell silent, gasping for breath, as Jungkook's words floated through the dense air of the room. Your mask of coldness, the one you had built so carefully over the past five years, began to crack. You looked him in the eye, and for an instant, you didn't see the arrogant heir who had just insulted your kingdom, but the boy who used to climb up your balcony just to show you a bird's nest he'd found.
All that rage, that sharp edge with which you responded to him, was nothing more than armor. Because the truth, the one that burned your chest more than the corset, was that you loved it. You'd loved him since you were six years old, and he gave you his first wooden soldier. But then, that winter came. That night at the winter ball where you heard him talking to his father, the King, and something inside you broke.
"You don't have to go on with this, Jungkook," you whispered suddenly. Your voice was no longer poisonous, only a deep fatigue. " You don't have to pretend you care about my pride. I know what you think of me. I heard you, you know? Five years ago, in the library in the west wing. "
Jungkook froze. His hands, which were directed at the loops of your corset, stopped in midair. His eyes widened a little wider, reflecting the light from the embers.
"You heard—what?" His voice dropped an octave, becoming a hoarse murmur.
"You told your father that I was just a 'necessary obligation,'" you said, and you felt the lump in your throat close. " That you had no feelings for the girl you had grown up with and that you would marry me just to secure the northern border. I spent my entire adolescence hoping that this "contract" would be something more for you... And that night I understood that I was the only stupid one who was in love. "
You looked down, unable to continue to hold his eyes up. The silence that followed was suffocating. You expected him to laugh, confirm his words, or just walk away nonchalantly. But he did nothing of the sort.
You felt his fingers, warm and trembling, brush against your chin to force you to lift your head. When your eyes met his again, you saw no mockery. You saw a raw pain, a desperation that he had never allowed himself to show before.
"Y/N..." He let out a long sigh, almost a wail. "You're a fool. You really are. "
"Now you insult me?" You tried to regain your borderline tone, but your voice broke.
"I told you because you were pressuring me to send you away," he confessed, getting so close that his forehead brushed against yours. "He was telling me that you were a distraction, that my feelings for you made me weak, and that if I couldn't prove that I saw you as a political object, I would marry you off to a duke of the southern lands to get you out of my way. I had to lie. I had to say the cruelest thing I could think of to get him to leave you alone, to allow you to stay close to me, even if it was as an "obligation". "
You froze. Years of accumulated hatred, silent weeping nights, and curt answers in the halls of the courtroom began to falter.
"Why didn't you tell me?" You called out in a whisper, tapping weakly on his chest with your hands. "You made me hate you, Jungkook. You made me hate every memory I had of us."
"Because if I told you, you couldn't have pretended," he replied, catching your hands in his and bringing them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles with a devotion that took your breath away. "My father is an expert at reading people. I needed you to hate me so that he would believe that I had no power over you. But look at me, Y/N... really look at me. "
He forced you to let go of your hands and put his hands in the loops of your corset, but this time there was no aggression. His fingers moved with a torturous slowness, undoing the first knot in front of you. You were face to face, so close that you could feel the gallop of his heart crashing against yours.
"I've spent five years watching you walk away, watching you throw daggers at me with your eyes while I was dying to apologize to you," he continued, undoing the second lasso. "The pressure of the corset on your lungs began to ease, allowing you to breathe for the first time all night. Do you think I like this contract? I hate him. Because you deserved to be courted, you deserved to be brought you flowers and to write you ridiculous verses like the ones I read to you when we were children. You didn't deserve to be handed over as a war trophy. "
The corset loosened enough that he could tuck his hands under the silk, caressing the skin of your ribs. The contact made you let out a gasp that this time was not from fear, but from a need that you had repressed for too long.
"Jungkook..." His name came out of your lips like a plea.
"Don't hate me tonight, Y/N," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please. I know that the world wants us to be kings, to be enemies or political allies... But here, behind this lock, I just want to be the guy who loved you before it all got so complicated."
Your hands, which had once been clenched into fists, relaxed and climbed up his shoulders until they became entangled in his dark hair. You pulled it gently, forcing it to shorten the last millimeter that separated them.
"I've been so lonely," you confessed against his lips, finally dropping all your defenses.
"Not anymore," he said before capturing your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the one in the cathedral.
This kiss tasted like years of silence, shared secrets and a desperate urgency. There was no protocol, there were no princes or crowns. There were just the two of you, rediscovering yourselves under the candlelight as the corset finished falling to the floor, letting the vulnerability of both of you meet in the gloom of the room.
The kiss dragged on, not with the urgency of a stranger, but with the painful familiarity of someone who recovers something he thought was lost forever. You felt your fingers sink into the hair on the back of Jungkook's neck, tugging at it with a mixture of relief and reproach. The taste of his mouth, mixed with the trail of red wine, transported you back to the summers when they shared fruit stolen from the royal orchard, before the crowns weighed so heavily on their temples.
When they finally separated, their fronts were united. You were both gasping, the air between you charged with an electricity that was no longer just hate, but a spark of hope that you were afraid to acknowledge.
"I'm afraid to believe you," you whispered, your eyes fixed on his, which shone with an almost feverish intensity. "I've spent five years hating you to survive, Jungkook. If this is another of your political strategies, I swear I won't stand it. "
He didn't respond with words right away. Instead, he lowered her hands to the end loops of your corset, which was now only hanging from your hips. His fingers, expert and slow, undid the last knot. You felt the weight of the garment fall at your feet, leaving your body covered only by the very fine white silk camisole, almost translucent under the candlelight.
You felt exposed, not only physically, but emotionally. You had run out of armor.
"Look at me, Y/N," he asked you, his voice a silk thread. "There are no ministers here. There are no spies behind the curtains. There's just the boy who taught you to ride and the girl who swore to me that one day we'd be the greatest kings in history. "
He took a step back, but only to take off his own military coat. He threw it to the ground without looking at her, a gesture of contempt for the uniform that represented his duty. Then, he put his hands to the buttons of his white shirt. His eyes didn't leave yours for a second, as if he feared that if he blinked, you'd put back on that mask of indifference that had tormented him so much.
"Help me," he said, stopping his hands halfway across his chest. "If we're going to do this, if we're going to be one tonight, I want you to claim what's yours too."
Your hands were shaking when you raised them. Your fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, feeling the scorching heat emanating from his skin. You began to undo the buttons, one by one, with a torturous slowness. With each button you released, you discovered more about him: the curve of his shoulders, the firmness of his chest, the scars you didn't know about—records of training and battles he'd earned while you were away, hating him.
"This scar..." you whispered, brushing your fingertip against a pale mark near his shoulder. "It wasn't there before. "
"It was two years ago," he answered, closing his eyes to your touch. "An ambush in the north. I was just thinking that if I died there, I would never have a chance to tell you the truth. That I would die being your enemy and that hurt me more than steel in the flesh. "
You finished with the last button and opened his shirt, letting it fall off his shoulders. Jungkook looked imposing in the gloom; The light from the fireplace cast shadows on his defined muscles and tanned skin. He was a man now, a potential king, but when he looked at you, you saw the same Jungkook who stayed awake with you when you had nightmares.
He shortened the distance again, wrapping his bare arms around your waist. The contact of his skin against the silk of your nightgown, and yours underneath, made you let out a trembling sigh. He glued you to his body, forcing you to feel the strength of his muscles and the unbridled beating of his heart.
"Outside, the world awaits a perfect queen and a ruthless king," he whispered against your neck, his nose brushing your skin, inhaling your scent of roses and jasmine. "They hope that our union will be a formality to sign maps. But in here... here I want you to be just Y/N. My Y/N. The one who insults me, the one who challenges me and the one who, in spite of everything, loves me as much as I love her. "
He brought his hands to the straps of your nightgown, pulling them down with a delicacy that made you tear. The silk slid down your body, falling in a soft whisper on the carpet. Now there was nothing left to hide. In front of him, stripped of all clothes and of your last defenses, you gave yourself completely; There were no more secrets or lies between the two. Only the raw and beautiful reality of your body exposed before his gaze, and the certainty of two souls who had searched for each other for half a decade.
You hugged him, burying your face in his chest, feeling the scent of sandalwood and man that was so intoxicating to you. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you, protecting you from the cold and loneliness you had felt for so long.
"Five years, Jungkook," you muttered against his skin, your hands caressing his back. "Five lost years."
"We have the rest of our lives to get them back," he assured you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. "But tonight is just for us. There is no crown that weighs more than this desire."
He walked to the large four-poster bed. The linen sheets were cold, but the heat they both gave off was enough to set the room on fire. He left you on the mattress with infinite softness, as if you were made of glass, before positioning himself on you, resting his weight on his forearms so as not to crush you.
"I love you, Y/N," he said, and it was the first time you heard those words in a man's voice. "I have loved you in every letter I didn't send, in every toast I made in your honor when you were away, and in every battle I won just to make this kingdom worthy of you."
Your eyes misted up, and for the first time in years, you smiled for real. A smile that was just for him.
"Then show me," you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him toward you. "Prove me that the contract is wrong and that you don't own me... but my other half."
Jungkook lowered his head and kissed you, with a devout tenderness that made you understand that, even if the sun came out in a few hours and you had to face the court, in that bed you had already won the most important battle of your life.
Jungkook didn't rush. He stood on his elbows, watching you with an intensity that made you feel like he was reading your soul, not just looking at your body. His eyes swept over every inch of your skin with a reverence you'd never seen in him.
"You're shaking," he whispered, and his hand reached down to intertwine his fingers with yours, pressing them against the mattress.
"It's not because of the cold," you admitted in a thin voice.
It was the truth. It was the adrenaline, the relief, and the weight of five years of loneliness crumbling all at once. Jungkook let go of one of your hands and began to draw invisible lines on your belly, slowly rising towards your ribs. His fingers were warm and a little rough, and every place he touched seemed to light up in his wake.
"I spent so many nights imagining this," he confessed, lowering his head to kiss the crook of your shoulder. "In the northern campaigns, when the cold was so intense that my bones hurt, I would close my eyes and try to remember the sound of your laughter or the way you frowned when I beat you at chess. It was the only thing that kept me sane. "
You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his lips against your skin. Your hand went up his arm, marveling at the firmness of his muscles. He was no longer the skinny boy you used to run with; He was a solid man, forged by duty and war.
"I thought you had forgotten me," you said, your voice charged with an honesty you would have been ashamed to show before. "At every dance, at every official dinner, you looked at me as if I were a stranger. I convinced myself that you had erased everything we were."
Jungkook stopped and looked up to meet yours. There was a deep sadness in his dark eyes.
"Never," he said. "Every time I ignored you, it was a battle with myself not to cross the room, hold your hand, and get you out of there. I had to learn to be an outsider to protect you from my own feelings. My father... He knew you were my weak point. If he found out that I still loved you like this, he would have used you as a bargaining chip much sooner. "
He came down again, this time looking for your neck. His kisses were slow, almost lazy, as if he wanted to memorize the taste of your skin. You felt his warm breath against your ear as his hands continued to explore your figure, recognizing the curves that time and maturity had molded in you.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he murmured against your skin, and the tone of his voice, so filled with genuine admiration, made you feel a lump in your throat.
You forced yourself to move, seeking to be closer to him. You entangled your legs with his, feeling the rubbing of his hairy, firm skin against yours, soft and delicate. The touch caused you to gasp, and your body, which had been tense all day, finally began to relax, asking for more.
"Jungkook..." you whispered, arching your back as his hand circled one of your breasts, caressing the nipple with his thumb with a delicacy that made you burn. "I don't want to talk about the past anymore. I don't want to think about the sunrise or the sheets. I just want you to be here. With me. "
He pulled away enough to look at you, a small, painful smile pouring across his lips.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he promised.
He brought his hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb before tilting his face to kiss you again. This kiss was different; It was deeper, more needy, as if he was trying to seal a promise that neither of them dared to say out loud. Their tongues met, dancing in a rhythm they had always known but now felt new, charged with a passion that no longer had to be hidden.
You felt the emotional tension slowly transform into a much more powerful physical need. Your hands went down his back, running down Jungkook's spine until they reached his hips, urging him to stick closer to you. He responded with a low growl, pressing his erection against your thigh, and the discharge of desire that ran through your belly took your breath away.
"I've missed you so much," you confessed between kisses, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders.
"And I to you, my queen," he answered, his voice growing hoarser. "My only queen. "
Jungkook started to go down again, but this time his kisses didn't stay on your neck. They followed the path of his caress, down your chest, stopping at every inch as if he were worshipping a temple. The slowness with which he did it was a delicious torture; It made you wish that he would hurry up, but at the same time, you wanted that moment of mutual discovery to last forever.
Jungkook moved away just a few centimeters, just enough for you to see the glow of adoration in his eyes, but not enough for you to stop feeling his warmth. His hand, firm and warm, went down your belly, leaving a trail of small spasms in its wake, until it stopped just above the junction of your thighs, where fine hair and sensitive skin made you feel more vulnerable than ever.
"Are you sure?" he whispered. His voice was a hoarse caress, charged with a restraint that made the muscles in his arms tense. "Once we cross this line, Y/N, there will be no turning back. Not only will you be my wife before the law, but... You will have entrusted me with the most sacred thing you have. "
You swallowed, feeling your heart hammer against your ribs. You looked at him, seeing the man who had spent years hiding his love under an iron mask just to keep you safe. You were no longer afraid of the contract, you were afraid of the intensity of how you felt about it.
"I'm sure, Jungkook," you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves. "I want it to be you."
He let out a long sigh, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and leaned over to leave a chaste kiss on your forehead. Then, with a slowness that made you want to scream in anticipation, it began to come down your body. It didn't position itself between your legs right away; Instead, he dedicated herself to worshipping every corner of your skin with his lips and tongue.
He kissed your ribs, stopping to listen to your frantic heartbeat. He went down to your navel, tracing circles with the wet tip of his tongue that made your toes shrink and your belly contract. Jungkook moved with the patience of a craftsman, as if he was discovering a treasure that had been buried for centuries.
"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his warm breath sending electric shocks straight into your pelvis. "All this time, imagining what you would be like... And reality takes my breath away. "
His hands went down to spread your legs apart with extreme delicacy. You felt yourself dying of shame for a second, the diffused light of the candles bathing your intimacy completely exposed before his expert eyes, but he didn't give you time to hide. Jungkook knelt between your thighs and rested his large hands on the inside of your knees, keeping them wide open.
His gaze swept over your femininity with an almost religious reverence. There was no vulgar lust in his expression, but a pure, hungry fascination with the center of your crotch, which was already beginning to glow subtly.
"Jungkook..." you gasped, covering your eyes with your arm, feeling the heat rise up your cheeks at the intensity of his scrutiny.
"Look at me, Y/N," he asked you, his voice vibrating with a soft but undeniable command. You slowly pulled your arm away and looked at him; He was there, the future king of an empire, kneeling before you as if you were his only deity. "Don't hide from me. There is nothing in you that is not worthy of worship."
He brought his hand to you, and you felt the first direct contact. His long fingers brushed your with the softness of a petal, barely a touch, but it was enough to make you let out a high-pitched moan that echoed throughout the room. It was the first time someone touched you like that, the first time you felt that pang of pleasure so clear, electric and overwhelming.
"Shh, don't worry," he whispered, watching your reaction intently as his eyes darkened. "Just feel."
He began to move his fingertips in slow circles, discovering your sensitivity, learning the exact rhythm that made your breath choppy. I was in no hurry to penetrate you; He seemed to enjoy endlessly watching your eyes glaze over and your hips rise unconsciously seeking more of his touch. His fingers slid down, finding the thick moisture that was already beginning to gush out of your canal, and he let out a low growl, a hoarse sound of pure satisfaction.
"You're so ready for me..." he muttered, and before you could process his words, he lowered his head completely.
The first contact of his hot, moist tongue against your center was like a burst of white light behind your eyelids. You shouted his name, sinking your hands in despair into the linen sheets, as he gave himself to the task of worshipping you with his mouth. Jungkook was not careless; He used his tongue with a precision that made you lose your sense of reality. It alternated long, firm licks from bottom to top with soft suctions directly at your most sensitive point, crushing your button and bringing you to an edge you didn't know existed.
You felt the rubbing of his nose against your pubis, the suffocating heat of his breath and the obscene wetness of his mouth consuming you completely. It was an absolute sensory discovery. Every time you tried to close your legs, overwhelmed by the intensity of the stimulus, his firm hands on the inside of your thighs reminded you that he was in charge and that he wasn't done with you.
"Jungkook, please... I don't know what this is..." You cried, your head moving back and forth on the pillow, losing control of your own body.
He paused for a second, only to look down at you, his lips shining with your own wetness and his eyes completely darkened with desire.
"It's the pleasure that belongs to you, Y/N," he said in a thick voice that seemed to come from the depths of his chest. "And only I am going to give it to you. Always me."
He went down again, this time deeper, exploring with his fingers the entrance to your canal while his tongue continued to work relentlessly on your clitoris. He inserted a finger, very slowly, feeling the natural resistance of your virginity. You immediately tensed up under the new pressure, but he stopped, kissing your inner thighs parsimonously to relax before continuing. He was preparing you, widening you with infinite patience, lubricating you with his own fingers, making sure that when the time came for real union, you would only feel love and not pain.
The sensation of his fingers moving inside you, in unison with the wet strokes of his tongue, pushed you to the absolute limit. You felt a growing pressure in your belly, an addictive tension that was crying out to be released. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving more firmly and deeply, mimicking what would soon be his own penetration.
"Jungkook! You exclaimed in a broken cry, and suddenly the world exploded.
Your body arched violently upward as the first orgasm of your life shook you from head to toe in uncontrollable spasms. It was such a powerful release that you felt your lungs forgetting to breathe, your vaginal walls squeezing hard. Jungkook stood there, holding your thighs, receiving every contraction of your body directly against his face and fingers, drinking from your flow as if it were the most precious elixir of his kingdom.
When the tremors finally stopped and you collapsed against the mattress, exhausted and with your heart pounding, Jungkook immediately climbed up to cover you with his body. He kissed you with demented tenderness, savoring you on your own lips, mixing his juices, while his hands caressed your tousled hair.
"We're not done yet, my queen," he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his erection, huge, hard, throbbing, pressing hard against your thigh. " This has been just for you. Now... Now I want you to know what it means to be one flesh. "
You stood there, sunk in the silk mattress, your lungs burning from the effort to catch your breath after that burst of pleasure you never imagined possible. Your body felt light, almost ethereal, but at the same time strangely aware of every inch of skin. Jungkook slowly squeezed in, coming out from between your legs, and you saw him stand next to the bed.
The light of the candles, which were already beginning to burn out, bathed his figure in a golden halo. You watched him in silence, with half-open eyes, as he brought his hands to the zippers of his ball pants. The sound of leather and fabric slipping was the only thing that broke the sacred silence of the bedroom. When he finally got rid of the last thing covering him, standing completely naked before you, the air escaped from your lungs for a very different reason than the previous orgasm.
It was imposing. Jungkook had always been athletic, but the man in front of you was a work of art carved in stone and desire. His legs were strong, marked by years of military training, and his belly was defined by muscles that tensed with his every move. But your eyes couldn't help but go down to his crotch, and that's when you felt your face burn as if an ember had been brought to you.
You let out a brief, nervous laugh, a mixture of disbelief and modesty that you could not contain. You covered your face with both hands, sinking your fingers into your hot cheeks, as the echo of your own laughter echoed through the canopy of the bed.
"What are you laughing at, little queen?" His voice went deep, charged with a playful but intense vibration. You heard the mattress give way again under his weight as he knelt on the bed.
"It's just that..." you murmured between your fingers, sticking out only one eye to look at him—... "Jungkook, that's impossible. "
"Impossible?"
"You're not going to fit," you blurted out, and this time the laughter was pure nervousness. "You're going to... You're going to break me. I've known you forever, but I never imagined you'd be... like this. It's too much."
Jungkook let out a low growl, one that wasn't anger, but a masculine satisfaction that made him smile halfway. He didn't immediately come over to possess you. Instead, he sat on his heels in front of you, allowing you to process the vision of his manhood. His long fingers surrounded his own erection, which pulsed with a force that intimidated and fascinated you in equal measure. In a slow, deliberate motion, he began to move his hand up and down, spreading the pre-cum that glistened at the tip along the entire length of his member, preparing to ease the way for you.
The wet sound of his own hand against his skin made you close your eyes again, but you couldn't help but imagine it. You knew I was doing that for you, so that the transition from virgin to wife would be as painless as possible.
"Look at me, Y/N," he said, and his tone was no longer joking. It was a royal order, but charged with a tenderness that disarmed you. You pulled your hands away from your face little by little. "The human body is wise, and mine has been waiting for years to fit into yours. I'm not going to break you. I'm going to complete you."
He moved closer, crawling on the bed until his body was back on top of yours. The contrast between his size and your delicate figure has never been so apparent. His thighs, wide and firm, positioned themselves on the outside of yours, forcing you to open again. This time, you felt the tip of his erection, wet and hot, brushing your entrance, right where you still felt the throb of your recent orgasm.
"Jungkook, wait..." you gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, looking for an anchor.
"Shhh... Look me in the eye," he whispered, lowering himself to capture your lips in a deep kiss, a kiss that tasted like promise. "I'm not going to move if you don't ask me. We are going to go millimeter by millimeter. I want you to feel every part of me coming into your life."
You felt how he rested all his weight in his hands at the sides of your head, hovering over you like a protective shadow. He started pushing, very slowly, with a constant and massive pressure that forced you to arch your back against the silk mattress. The feeling of fulfillment was immediate, overwhelming; You felt the raw texture of its veins and the scorching heat of its thickness stretching your skin millimeter by millimeter, forcing your vaginal walls to adapt to it. A groan of surprise and involuntary submission escaped from your throat. It was an experience that overwhelmed you, as if you were being claimed not only by the man you loved, but by an indomitable force of nature.
"It hurts a little," you admitted in a thin voice, pressing your nails into the bare skin of his back, feeling the physical barrier of your innocence firmly oppose his advance.
Jungkook stopped immediately, freezing the thrust. His forehead rested against yours, and you could see the beads of sweat running down his temples, glistening in the candlelight from the superhuman effort he was making to contain his own instincts and not lose control. His eyes were darkened, almost black with dilation, fixed on yours with an absolute, possessive devotion.
"I know, love. "I know," he murmured against your lips, giving you small wet kisses to draw your attention away from the sting. "Breathe with me. Just a little more and we'll be one forever. There will be no more contracts, no fathers, no kingdoms between us. Just you and me."
He waited with infinite patience for your muscles to give way, for your breathing to match his in the midst of that intimate invasion. Only when he felt that you had stopped tensing up and that your femininity was beginning to soften from the heat, did he push again. With a firm, slow, vertical thrust, he finally broke the last vestige of your childhood.
You let out a muffled sob, a mixture of sharp pain and emotional satisfaction so deep it brought tears to your eyes, as you felt him bury himself deep to the root, filling the void you had endured during those five years of solitude. Your insides contracted violently around his member, trapping him in a suffocating grip.
Jungkook stood completely motionless inside you, united at the deepest point possible, allowing the bloodstain that tomorrow the court would see to spread beneath you on the linen sheets as the final, irrevocable seal of your destiny. He put his arms around you, pressing you to his beating chest, and for the first time all night, you felt that the crown was no longer weighing anything.
"That's it," he whispered in your ear, his voice completely broken with emotion and desire. "You're mine, Y/N. And I am, at last, completely yours."
Time seemed to freeze the instant Jungkook finished reclaiming that space that, by right of love and contract, now belonged to him. You gasped, your eyes misty and your nails stuck in his shoulders, feeling that immense pressure that seemed to expand you from within, the pulse of his erection beating directly against your cervix. Jungkook didn't move; He stood there, buried in you, his arm muscles trembling from the effort of holding his weight so as not to crush you as he waited for your body to accept the anatomy of a warrior.
"Breathe, my life... Look at me and breathe," he whispered. His voice was a hoarse thread of pure agony and devotion.
You felt the piercing sting of your lost innocence, but above all, you felt that scorching fullness. Jungkook was too big, a presence that filled you completely, making you feel small and fragile under his body. Every time you tried to relax, the throbbing of his own cock inside you, releasing the first few drops of pre-cum, reminded you how real and carnal this all was.
He lowered his head and began to kiss your tears, sweeping the salt from your cheeks with a tenderness that contrasted with the brute strength of his hips wedged between your thighs. His lips sought yours in a slow, deep kiss, giving you time to process the burning feeling of being one flesh with him.
"Tell me when you're ready," he murmured against your lips, brushing them. I won't move until the pain turns into something else. I don't want you to remember me in pain, Y/N. Never again.
What seemed like hours passed, although they were only minutes of sacred silence where only the crackling of the embers and their rhythmic breaths could be heard. Gradually, the burning began to transform into a dull heat, an addictive electric pulsation that was born right where their bodies came together. Your body, traitor and in love, began to give way, lubricating itself naturally, wrapping around it and finally recognizing the owner of its sighs.
You nodded slightly against his shoulder, letting out a trembling sigh that hit his neck. Jungkook closed his eyes, letting out a low growl, a purely animal sound, and began to move.
It was an almost imperceptible movement at first. A slow rock, a retreat of just a few inches that dragged your inner walls before sinking back down with extreme delicacy. You gasped, your mouth half-open, feeling your skin stretch to accommodate each thrust. It was a beautiful and terrifying sensation at the same time; You felt completely invaded, but in a way that made you feel whole for the first time in five years.
"Damn it... you're so tight... so perfect," Jungkook gasped. His jaw was so tense that you could see the veins in his neck tick under the candlelight.
He increased the pace, but only a little, maintaining that deliberate and deep cadence that allowed you to enjoy every millimeter of his entrance. The wet sound of friction began to mix with the rubbing of the sheets. Every time he slipped out, you felt an unbearable emptiness, and every time he went back in, a burst of heat ran down your spine. His hands came down from your shoulders to intertwine with yours on the pillow, squeezing them tightly, anchoring you to him in this mutual discovery.
"Does it still hurt?" He asked, pausing for a second to look at you. His eyes were injected with desire, fixed on your blushing face, but his worry was what dominated his expression.
"A little... But don't stop," you whispered, arching your back up unconsciously, looking for it to go deeper. "I want to feel you, Jungkook. I want you to erase all this time that we were away."
Those words were the trigger that ended his last trace of self-control. Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, a snort full of lust, and began to charge more firmly, with drier and deeper punches, although without losing the elegance of his movements. The four-poster bed creaked gently to the rhythm of his passion, a sound that mingled with your unbridled gasps and hoarse growls from him. With each movement, fullness became pleasure; a dark, dense, moist and deep pleasure that clouded your judgment completely.
You felt him hit points inside you that you had never explored, sending electric shocks straight into your belly. The pain was completely gone, replaced by a voracious need for me to never let go of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist unconsciously, drawing him in more, wanting to remove any atom of air between their bodies, forcing him to sink to bottom.
"You're mine... My wife, my queen..." he whispered against your lips, each word punctuated by a hard thrust that made you see stars and lose track of reality.
Jungkook raised one of his hands to caress your face, brushing the sweaty hair away from your forehead as he moved with an increasing and uncontrolled intensity. His sweaty body shone in the gloom, a vision of power and absolute dedication. He was giving you everything: his strength, his vulnerability, and the secret of his eternal love.
You reached the edge of the abyss almost without realizing it. Pleasure built up in your belly like a storm about to burst, making you emit wet, broken sounds. Jungkook noticed it instantly; He felt the first contractions of your canal hugging him tightly, he saw how your eyes rolled and how your body began to tremble under his. He picked up the pace, his movements becoming a little more erratic, more urgent, taking you by the hand toward that climax you both shared.
"Jungkook! You shouted his name, your voice broken with emotion, as the world crumbled into a thousand pieces of light and heat.
Your orgasm shook you with a force that left you breathless, your vaginal walls squeezing his member into violent spasms. Jungkook was not far behind. Feeling the emptiness of your liberation sucking it in, it let out a guttural roar that seemed to be born from its bowels, sank for the last time in a brutal way, as deep as it could, and poured into you with an intensity that made you vibrate. Waves of thick, burning semen filled your insides, mixing with your own moisture and the trace of your innocence. He stood there, trembling over you, burying his face in the hollow of your neck as his seed sealed the contract of their lives for good.
Silence returned to the room, but it was a different silence. It was no longer hostile, nor annoying. It was a silence full of peace and a satisfaction that can only be found after a war won.
Jungkook slumped down next to you carefully, but he didn't allow you to walk away. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping you in a protective embrace as you both caught your breath. The sheets were scrambled, stained with proof of their union, but at the time, none of that mattered.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, kissing the crown of your head. Now and for all the winters we have left.
You snuggled up against him, feeling his heartbeat against your ear. The prince and princess who hated each other had died that night in that bed, and in their place, two lovers were born who, at last, no longer had to pretend.
(...)
The sun began to filter timidly through the heavy velvet curtains, drawing lines of golden dust in the dense air of the room. It wasn't the sudden awakening you'd imagined for years of nightmares about this day; It was a slow awakening, enveloped in the warmth of a body that no longer felt like that of an enemy, but as your safe harbor.
You opened your eyes heavily, your body feeling strangely sore but light, as if you had taken off an armor you had been wearing for centuries. The first thing you saw was Jungkook's face, a few centimeters from yours. He was not asleep. He watched you with infinite calm, his dark hair tousled on the pillow and an expression of peace that you had never seen him wear in court.
"Good morning, my queen," he whispered, and his voice, hoarse with sleep, sent a delicious shiver down your spine.
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled the details of the night: the confessions, the urgency of his hands, and the way he called you his over and over again. You shifted under the linen sheets, feeling the rubbing of his bare skin against yours, and you looked down at the bed. There, between the two of you, the stain of dried crimson on the immaculate white was the silent testimony of your surrender and of the sealed covenant.
"They're coming soon," you said in a whisper, feeling a knot of nervousness at the thought of the maidens and counselors waiting behind the door.
"Let them come," Jungkook replied with a calm smugness. He moved closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing you to his chest. "They already have what they wanted."
Three sharp and ceremonious knocks echoed through the wooden door. It was the warning of the protocol. The time for intimacy was over; The time of kings was beginning.
Jungkook sat up, giving you one last quick and possessive kiss on the lips before reaching for his silk robe. You did the same, covering yourself in a thin robe, trying to keep your composure as he walked to the door and turned the key that last night looked like the lock of a cell and today felt like the key to a shelter.
The doors opened wide. The ladies-in-waiting entered with their heads bowed, carrying basins of warm water and perfumed oils, followed by the eldest housekeeper, whose only mission was to pick up the central sheet. You saw the woman approach the bed with professional coldness, removing the stained linen with a bow directed at both of them.
You looked at Jungkook. He was standing by the window, the daylight highlighting his aristocratic profile. For a second, his iron mask was back in place: the tense jaw, the icy gaze, the crown prince no one dared to challenge. But before the housekeeper left the room to show the "proof" to the King and the council, Jungkook looked for you with his eyes.
In that brief moment, he gave you an almost imperceptible smile, a spark of complicity that said: "This is our secret. The rest is just theater."
Hours later, you were walking alongside him through the great throne room. The weight of your new gold and sapphire crown was real, and the cheers of the court echoed through the stone vaults. Everyone celebrated peace, the union of two kingdoms and political victory. But you, while holding your head high and the serene expression of a perfect princess, felt Jungkook's hand seek yours under the wide folds of his royal cloaks.
His fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing them with a firmness that reminded you of the heat of the night before. You were no longer the girl who climbed the cherry trees, nor was he the boy who scolded you for being reckless. They were the sovereigns of an empire, yes, but above all, they were two people who had survived hatred to find themselves in the truth.
"Are you ready, Y/N?" He asked you in a low voice, still looking straight ahead at the thrones that awaited them.
"With you, always," you replied, squeezing his hand with the same intensity.
They walked together to their seats, echoing their footsteps ushering in an era. You knew there would be more wars, more intrigues, and more pressures, but you were no longer afraid. For that night, amid the scent of sandalwood and the ashes of the fireplace, you had learned that there was no contract stronger than that which is signed with the soul, nor a crown more valuable than the love of him whom you once called the enemy.
(...)
Five years had passed since that night when the lock of the royal room dictated the beginning of your new life. Five years since the bloodstains and the truths shouted between sighs sealed a pact that no minister would have been able to draft.
You walked along the marble balcony of the east wing, the same one that overlooked the gardens where, in another life, Jungkook chased you through the rose bushes. The afternoon air was crisp, but you no longer felt that constant chill in your bones that used to accompany you when you were alone. The weight of your crown no longer caused migraines; now it was simply a part of you, as natural as the surname Jeon you proudly carried.
"I knew I'd find you here," Jungkook's voice, now deeper and charged with the authority of a King who has won a thousand political battles, echoed behind you.
You turned around with a soft smile, watching as he walked towards you. He no longer wore the rigid dress uniform; He wore a dark silk shirt unbuttoned at the collar and an expression of utter relaxation that he only showed when the doors of the great hall closed.
You watched him approach, noticing how time had only served to polish his beauty. He had some new frown lines around his eyes, the product of sleepless nights studying maps and tracts, but when his eyes met yours, you kept seeing the boy who gave you a wooden soldier.
"The southern emissaries are gone," he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you to his chest with that possessive familiarity that had never diminished. "They say they've never seen a kingdom so prosperous, or a couple so prosperous... "synchronized". "
"If they only knew we spent half our time arguing over grain taxes," you chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder.
"Arguing with you is my favorite activity, Y/N," he murmured, kissing your temple. It keeps me on my toes. "It reminds me that my Queen is still the most stubborn and brilliant woman in the entire alliance."
You looked down at the lower garden, where a small three-year-old boy was running after a hunting cub, closely followed by two guards trying to hide their smiles. The little heir of the Jeons had his father's dark, messy hair and your same spark of rebellion in his eyes.
"Look at Minjun," you said, feeling a sweet warmth in your chest. "He's trying to climb the cherry tree."
Jungkook let out a low laugh, a vibration you felt against your own back.
"Like mother, like son. I remember a certain princess who almost broke her leg doing exactly the same thing. I had to rescue her and endure her insults all the way back."
"You rescued me because you wanted to be the hero, Jungkook," you reminded him, turning in his arms to hang from his neck. "Admit it."
"I admit that I have always been at your feet, even if I tried very hard to look like an arrogant prince," he confessed, looking at you with a devotion that had not died down a single day in these five years. "Sometimes I stop to think about that first night... in how close we were to letting ourselves be consumed by pride."
You felt a chill as you remembered the tension back then, the way feigned hatred almost robbed them of happiness. Jungkook lowered his hand to your belly, still flat under the silk of your dress, but where you both knew that a new life was starting to grow again. His touch was soft, protective, loaded with a promise of the future.
"We fulfilled the contract, Y/N," he whispered, lowering his voice until it became a secret only to your ears. "We gave them peace, we gave them the heirs, we gave them the stability they wanted. But what they can never take away from us is that this... This was not because of them."
"It was for us," you added, searching for his lips.
The kiss was slow, loaded with the history they had built together. It was no longer the desperate kiss of two strangers forced together; It was the kiss of two battle buddies who had turned a forced marriage into an empire of love.
As the sun set behind the mountains of your former home, illuminating the horizon with orange and violet hues, you understood that "happily ever after" was not a gift of fate, but something you had both fought and won, millimeter by millimeter, in the privacy of your bedroom and in the coldness of your throne.
Jungkook pressed you tighter against him, looking towards his kingdom, but with his heart set only on the woman in his arms.
"I love you, my Queen," he said, and you knew he would say it every night until the crowns were dust again.
"And I to you, my King," you replied, knowing that, at last, the story of the princess and prince who hated each other was over, giving way to the legend of the kings who loved each other against all odds.
END
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A/N: So, this is officially my very first OS and I’m not gonna lie, I'm absolute wreck of nerves right now lmao. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Any thoughts or feedback are more than welcome! ❤️
“You married Taehyung because of an arrangement between the court and your family. While the connection might seem political at first, it is very far from that. Mutual love, adoration and scorching passion make up the foundation of your union, lots of laughter and quiet nights fill everyday life. Your pleasure is of greatest importance to him, his happiness your most desirable goal. One hot summer’s day, you decide that he deserves to feel just as good as he always makes you feel, and so you ride him in your doctor’s office.”
Pairing: Army General!Taehyung x Royal Healer!Reader
Warnings: subbish!Taehyung, Domish!Reader, she is feeling herself and Taehyung is into it, kneeling & puppy eyes, first time they're doing it in cowgirl, making out, neck kisses, body worship, nipple play & licking, penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex 'cause historical, definite muscle kink, buff!Taehyung, sweaty!Taehyung, semi-public sex, praise & good boy kink, dirty talk, creampies, giggly aftercare
Worcount: 6.2k | Minors DNI you will be blocked & reported
a/n: y'all hopefully didn't think you've seen the last of general!tae because ya didn't LORD writing this story was a need, i'm being so serious i needed to fictionally ride him like a bull otherwise i'd have imploded. look forward to more stories with him besties 🤍 and ah! leave some comments hihihih <3
“Lady ___, what brings you here?” the owner of Moonbar asks you, surprised to see you in his establishment outside the normal opening hours.
People are cleaning around you and merchants carry in their deliveries. You are aware that you are currently not welcome here, but you have a very important reason for your visit.
“Good day. Is Lady Inna setting up already?” you ask him.
“Yes, she is.”
“Can I perhaps see her for a moment? I need to speak with her. I will even pay.”
“I shall ask. Please wait here.”
You wait by the bar, trying not to stand in the way of anyone working. Your heart is pounding. This is definitely not comfortable for you, but you must be brave. If you hadn’t been brave back then, you never would have found out how amazing life can be. You got to learn companionship, a wonderful husband and amazing sex. Such amazing sex, the kind which makes you change your stance in public when you think of it for too long.
“Lady Inna is willing to see you”, the owner’s voice rips you back to reality, reminding you not to fantasise about your husband naked and pleasured.
“Oh! Yes, thank you.”
You hurry to the back, hoping that nobody can see you. You feel less shame around your needs these days, but you still have a reputation to up hold. You would rather not be seen seeking sex advice.
Back to the sex. It is amazing. Taehyung has you regularly arching your back. He is such an attentive listener, always brimming with passion, and he takes your pleasure very seriously. To top it all off, he is the most amazing, most wonderful and sweetest husband outside the bedroom. He makes you laugh, he listens, he is kind and he loves hugs. You also love hugs. And you love him. So much.
So much in fact that you want to make him just as happy as he makes you.
“Good day, Lady Inna.”
“Good day, Lady ___. What a surprise it is to see you.”
Lady Inna does not wear her signature up-do yet, combing her long hair. She is not wearing any make-up either, looking a lot younger without it. Her rope is a bright pink and slightly out of fashion.
“I hope that I am not disturbing you”, you say, closing the door behind you.
“You aren’t. I hope you do not mind my appearance. I haven’t put on powder yet.”
“You are beautiful, Lady Inna.”
“Oh? Oh my, thank you.” She giggles and turns to you fully. “What can I do for you?”
Nervous, you sit down in front of her.
“I don’t know how to say it”, you confess.
“Perhaps I can guess it.”
“Go ahead.”
“You have troubles in your marriage and you need my advice.”
“Ah, no. The very opposite, actually. We get along well and I want to surprise my husband, which is why I need your advice because I do not know how to do it.”
“Tell me.”
“It embarrasses me to talk this way, but uhm…Lady Inna, I wish to learn how to ride my husband.”
Unlike you expected, she does not seem even the slightest bit baffled by your confession. She hums in understanding and nods her head.
“He must be a great husband if you are willing to do something for him.”
“He is. He is so wonderful.”
“Your husband is General Kim, yes?”
Your face heats up and a giddy smile tugs on your lips.
“He is”, you sigh dreamily.
“Mhhm, a handsome man. Strong as well.”
“Really strong. It makes me hot just thinking about it.” You fluster. “Forgive me, that was improper.”
“Nothing you could say is improper. I earn my money telling stories of passion, my dear.”
“That is true now that you mention it.”
She snickers, nodding her head. She is not in the slightest bit ashamed of her profession and she shouldn’t be. Now that you know how fun passion can be, you admire what she does for the women who perhaps do not have good sex in their lives. You could not imagine such a life for yourself and you feel really bad for any wife who does not get pleasured properly.
“Before I can teach you, I must know a few things. Have you ever been on top?” Lady Inna asks, flustering you. She notices, reaching out to calm you. “There is no judgement here. You can talk freely with me.”
“No, uhm, I haven’t been on top. Ever.”
“I see. Have you been on a horse before?”
“What? Why would I do that with a horse???”
“No gods, not like this. Have you ever ridden a horse the normal way?”
“Ah. This makes more sense. Yes, I have.”
“I see. Very good, then I know what to work with. Lie down.”
“Huh?”
“Lie down.”
You follow her order, albeit very confused. You get comfortable on the floor, head propped on a pillow. Lady Inna gathers her dress so that her legs are free then does the unthinkable thing of climbing your lap.
“Wait! What?!” you gasp, sitting up straight.
She puts her hands on your shoulders and pushes you back down. It knocks the air out of you, her weight on you is burning hot.
“First rule: it is terribly arousing for some men when you pin them down”, she says, running her hands along your arms. “Most are very proud of their muscles, so praise his strength as you touch him.”
She grabs your hands and puts them on her hips, lighting up your cheeks in giddiness. She is very soft.
“He will go mad if you do this.”
She begins to move on top of you, hands covering yours and eyes locked onto your face. You do not dare to breathe. Her hair falls so alluringly, her hips are so active between your hands.
“Can you feel how I move my hips back and forth?” she asks.
“Y-yes.”
“This movement is very pleasurable for you, and gives him a moment to breathe. Use it to guide his hands over your body.”
She shows you. You have never in your life felt a woman’s body as intimately as hers and you are a healer. She even makes you cup her breasts, which are very soft. Gods, you are burning up.
She drops your hands to her hips again.
“If you want to make the pleasure about him, you have to bounce on him up and down like this.”
She places her hands on your shoulders for balance and begins bouncing on your lap. You could take your hands off her hips, but you don’t, gawking at her with parted lips.
“You can control the depth in which he enters you and the speed. Another way to ride him is to bend back.”
She arches her back and puts her hands on your shins. She is more on her knees this way, exposing herself. If she was naked, you would have perfect view of her… This is too sinful to put into words. Oh, you are burning up hot.
“He can touch you this way and because you have to tense to support yourself, you are tighter.”
“O-okay.”
She straightens up again, placing her hands on each side of your head. Her hair falls loosely, framing your face. It smells sweetly floral.
“Look into his eyes, kiss him and his neck. Some men like their nipples to be touched. And most importantly, remember to switch it up if you want him to last long. Men tend to be very eager when a woman rides them.”
“Alright”, you whisper, feeling short of breath.
She smiles, “good. Now let us switch places and let me see how you move.”
It is needless to say that you leave Moonbar embarrassingly damp at the very least, properly soaked at the most. This was the most interesting, yet also highly confusing situation you have ever found yourself in. Lady Inna is truly a woman like no other.
Compromised and struggling to walk, you seek out Taehyung once you are back at the palace. He is on the training grounds, wearing nothing more than loose pants and a linen shirt. His arms are exposed, glistening in the sunlight and his hair is tied up loosely. Gods, this man is going to kill you.
He is currently lost in his training, eyes closed in concentration. With the way Lady Inna riled you up, you wish to be the sweat pearls sitting on his face.
“Mistress, hello”, Jimin greets you with a bow. He is equally as sweaty and loosely clothed. His long hair is tied back in four braids.
“Hello, general.”
Taehyung opens his eyes, gaze softening instantly. He drops the weights. The veins in his arms are bulging all the way up to his shoulders because of working his muscles. You will faint if he continues to exist.
“Beloved. What a surprise. You never visit these grounds.” He furrows. “Wait. You never visit these grounds. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
You close the distance to him, pulling him down so you can whisper into his ear. You put your hands on his upper arms unapologetically, considering for a very short moment whether you should lick his ear. Yes, you are very hungry for him.
“I’m aroused. Do you have time?” you whisper, squeezing his arms.
Taehyung steps back, eyes widened. You have never been this bold before.
“Woah. Really?”
You nod your head, staring at his lips and craving the taste of his kiss.
“What’s the matter?” Jimin asks.
“She uh, we uhm.”
“It’s embarrassing, but a very heavy patient fell in my office and I cannot lift him without Taehyung’s help. Please don’t tell anyone, it’s embarrassing.”
“Oh dear, do you need a third pair of hands? I can help.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. If Taehyung has time to help?”
“I do. Oh, you bet I do. Where did you say he was? Your office?”
“Yes, my office.” You grab his hand. “It is urgent so we should hurry.”
“Of course.”
You tug him with you. Jimin lifts his hand in a wave.
“Good luck! Call for me if you need me!”
“We will not call for him, will we?” Taehyung asks you in a whisper.
“Obviously not.”
You pull Taehyung into the office and lock the door.
“Windows.”
“Wait. Here? But I thought you said that you did not want it here in case of patients.”
“I cannot last till home. I need you right now. Close the windows.”
“Alright, wow.”
Taehyung hurries to them to follow your orders obediently. The paper screens let in the sunlight, painting the room in a warm, yellow light. He turns and startles because you are right in front of him. Craze reflects in your eyes like a feral animal, making him gulp.
“We have to be quiet”, you say.
“Okay.”
“Undress me.”
Your orders are clear and urgent. Taehyung obeys happily, albeit very confused. You have never been so boldly aroused before. At least not in public and definitely not with such dominant tones in your voice.
Because it is almost summer, you do not wear as many layers and undressing you is easier than in winter. He unlaces your jacket and helps you take off your pants. Your underwear gets discarded quickly because you joined his hands halfway through it as you could not wait any longer.
Nude and heated up, you face him. This is unbelievable to him. You, fully naked in a semi-public place. He swears that it makes him dizzy.
“Kiss me”, you order, grasping the back of his neck.
“I love your behaviour”, Taehyung says and gladly kisses you.
You moan, pressing yourself against him as close as possible. His body is so hot, increasing the fire in your stomach and the hunger of your touches.
Taehyung has a difficult time matching your rhythm today, swaying slightly because you keep pulling him closer and closer and closer. He finds balance on your butt, eliciting a needy moan from you. Your hips tilt into his touch, your hands glide down his neck and arms.
“Touch me, yes touch me”, you feed him the words, moaning with every new inch he explores.
His muscles are so hard, his skin is glistening. He makes you so fucking wet. You shove your tongue between his lips, allowing him to suck on it rather desperately. His right hand disappears between your legs, fingers parting your folds. You purr, chasing his touch with needy hips. The kiss breaks as a consequence. He did it because he needed to look at you.
“You are soaked. What the fuck happened?”
“I’ll tell you later. Get naked. I’ll do the pants.”
“I really love your attitude.”
Together, you undress him and soon he matches the state of you. The sunlight kisses your bared bodies, warming your skins and illuminating the paths of you. Sunlight on your naked bodies. What a wonderful kind of intimacy to share.
You cannot stop staring, biting your lip.
He is sporting a semi. Thick, bulging veins on his stomach lead your eyes to it. You really have to fuck him more often after a workout. He is so sexy.
Taehyung closes the distance and leans in for a kiss but you stop him.
“Get on the floor.”
“You are really different today. What did you do?” he asks, obeying your orders.
He kneels, palms facing up and eyes like that of a good puppy. His cock grows with each second, a subtle flush lies itself over his skin.
“Just something.”
“Something? Care to enlighten me?”
“Yes. Change positions. Sit.”
Taehyung obeys, looking up at you afterwards. Again, his puppy eyes are to die for. You simply have to reach down and pet his head. He smiles, tilting his head so you can pet him a lot better.
“You listen so well”, you praise, watching his cock twitch in response. Of course he would like that. He is such a lover for praise.
You lower yourself and run your hand to his arm. He inspects it, then your face, brow cocked in question. You let your body do the explaining. With your hand still on his arm, you climb his lap. Taehyung watches, breathing quickening more and more. Your bare cunt is pressing against his naked thigh. You are seriously so soaked, marking him with it.
Tingles run along his spine when you dance your hands down his arms. His neck gets touched as well, his chest next. Taehyung swears that he feels on fire when you explore him this way. The flames flicker when your hands disappear to his stomach and connect with his sensitive skin.
“Such a strong man. So muscular.”
He is heated up, abs tensing as you drag your hands up his torso. Tingles follow, more and more of his body gets covered in goosebumps.
You meet his eyes, talking to him in a sultry voice.
“I want you.”
Taehyung’s breath trembles, eyelids fluttering as he fights his emotions. Only you can manage to arouse him and fluster him at the same time.
You touch him more. His face, because he is beautiful. Taehyung exhales shakily, leaning into your palms. Your kiss on his forehead forces him to squeeze his eyes shut and whimper just a little. You are suddenly so soft with him, it weakens him so much. With a gentle tilt, you have him looking up at you.
Your adoration reflects in his lovedrunk puppy eyes, he is struggling not to absolutely crumble in your hands.
You kiss him. An actual whimper leaves him, his arms close around you tightly. Of course they do. Taehyung could survive in your arms if you let him. He told you so before. His eagerness is no surprise to you so you know exactly how to rein him back.
You let go of his face and push your elbows out, forcing his arms to open this way. The kiss breaks despite his mewl.
“Slow”, you whisper, giving him your hands to hold.
“Slow”, he breathes, nodding his head obediently.
“Good boy.”
You reward him with a chaste kiss, guiding his hands to his sides. He obeys even if it is difficult. Your behaviour is untypical. He cannot predict your actions. The unpredictability should scare him, but it doesn’t. Not with you.
Happy with his obedience, you dance your left hand to his chest. You cradle the back of his head with your other hand and with a firm push, you have him down on the floor.
Taehyung collides in an audible grunt, mouth falling open and eyes widening. His hair is messy, spreading on the bamboo mat. His cheeks flush a soft red.
“What are you doing?” he chokes out.
“You’ll see”, you say and connect your lips with his neck, hands dancing to his arms and shoulders. His taste is intoxicating, his smell alluring.
He inhales sharply, back arching off the floor and pulse fluttering. This goes down as the most amazing sensation ever. Taehyung feels as if he is floating above the clouds. This is the first time he is on his back with you on top of him. Just as it is the first time that you actively pin him down. This isn’t you. At least it shouldn’t be, so why do your movements feel so goddamn natural? You know exactly where to place your lips to make it heavenly or where to put your hands to render him useless. Taehyung swears that when you lift your head again after marking up both sides of his neck, he is dazed.
He can’t even kiss you back properly when you initiate, mewling and licking into your mouth more than he kisses.
“Mhhm, beloved”, you purr, tugging on his lower lip before kissing down his neck and chest.
You set your tongue on his salty skin and lick the sweat right off his nipple. This is heavenly, making Taehyung gasp and tense his pecs.
“You taste so good”, you growl and bite into him. Hard.
“Mistress”, Taehyung gasps in response, bucking his hips. His nipple throbs, skin burning in desire.
“Mhhm so delicious”, you lull, licking him in thick, languid strokes. Again, all of this highly untypical of you.
“A-ah, wow.”
“Mhhm, I know. Such a perfect nipple”, you say and bite into it.
Again, you never talked like this before. Let alone bit him. Taehyung swears that he can feel his heart beat in his cock. He is so hard for you. And whiney. And needy. And wet.
“Mistress, please”, he begs, writhing under you.
You sit up with your hands on his chest and arch your back so your butt sticks out, smiling down at him and fingers playing with his nipples.
“Please what?”
“Can I fuck you?”
“No.” You stub his nose. “No, I do the fucking today.”
“Huuuh???”
Taehyung looks up at you like a starstruck, eternally loyal puppy. So endearing that you would coo at him if you both weren’t so fucking wet in arousal. Cooing can wait.
You lift yourself off his lap to position yourself over his cock and wrap your hand around it, holding it in place. He is so erect, pulse throbbing under your touch.
“Get it?” you ask, rubbing yourself against him. So wet. So messy. So hot.
“Yes.” He mewls and begs with his eyes. “Yes, please. Please, please.” Okay, maybe he also begs with his mouth. He cannot help it. You have him a mess.
“How much do you want it?” you ask, giving him glimpses of heaven each time you grind your soft folds along his tip.
“So much. Please.”
“So much…this is a lot”, you coo and finally lower yourself on him.
He can’t look away, heart close to giving out and head dizzy. You sink him into your warm heaven, he does not want to miss out on anything.
“Slipped right in”, you purr, clenching around him to get the point across. Just for a second, he should get desperate for more.
Taehyung keens, biting his lip afterwards. His toes curl and you haven’t even taken him in completely.
You let go of his cock when you are halfway down, placing both of your hands on his chest. Feeling him fill you will never lose its spark. This is such a new way, which makes it as good as it does. Especially the bottoming out part. Fuck, this has you flying on clouds.
Taehyung grabs your thighs and squeezes. The pressure increases when you lift yourself again only to drop a second later. You fall into a pattern this way: with your hands on his chest and his hands on your thighs. It is a slow rhythm, calculated and meant to build tension. Just as Lady Inna taught you. Make him want more.
You stay quiet for the time being, listening to his ever-changing breathing. He is staring so intensely, mouth changing between hanging agape and pressing closed. His mind must currently be scrambled. You know that you have never done this before, so this must be a complete shock to him. Judging by how hard he is, it is good for him though.
Gods, his heart is beating so fast. How much quicker can he breathe without making a sound? Is he holding back?
You lift your hips and clench, dropping down on him this way.
“A-ah”, Taehyung lets out and throws his hands over his mouth, eyes rolling back as they close. There he is. That is what you wanted.
You repeat the movement. Up, clench, down.
He moans behind his hands, face tensing for a second before absolute bliss relaxes it again.
Up, clench, down.
You swear that his voice trembles as he moans.
Up, clench, down. Circle your hips a little.
Taehyung groans, brows furrowing. They stay this way. Tense and scrunched because you have him showing you his truest face. If only he wasn’t covering so much of it…
Thankfully you know just what to do. You take his wrists and drag his hands away. His eyes open, he is confused, letting you mould him to your wishes.
“Don’t cover your face, darling. Let me look at you.”
You press his hand into the floor on each side of his head, keeping them down by grabbing his wrists. It angles you differently, tightening you naturally and making him go deeper.
His once throaty moans pitch, equalling mewls. You swear that you can watch tears form in his eyes.
“My beautiful husband. I love your face”, you whisper, hips showing him how much you appreciate him.
You pick up speed just as Lady Inna taught you. First work him up then make him see stars. That is what she told you to do, and you are more than willing to put it to the test.
Your name leaves him in a whimper. His eyes close halfway and roll back. This might very well be the most sinful he has ever looked, and you finally get it. You get what he means when he says that you look beautiful when you are in pleasure. You never really believed him, always wondering how you could possibly look good when you are making all these weird faces.
But you get it. You finally get it. This isn’t weird. This is heavenly.
Seeing Taehyung absolutely blissed out changes you as a person.
“Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful”, you press out and lace fingers with him, dragging them up the mat as you drop down for kisses. They are pinned in place above his head, squeezing you back as you kiss his neck sloppily.
He cannot do much more than moan and mewl, everything else is under your spell. He is so much stronger than you, but right now you stole him of any sort of strength.
“You feel so good, Tae”, you moan against his neck, biting it gently afterwards. Over and over again, giving him moments of relaxation where you kiss and adore. If this continues, Taehyung will explode. He swears that it is building up to immeasurable levels.
You guide your kisses to his lips, sighing when his lips try to match your needy rhythm. Although, he does more moaning and whimpering than he does kissing. You don’t mind. It’s beyond endearing. And hot. So hot. You want to taste every one of his sounds. But Taehyung is eager. Too eager.
He thrusts his hips and reminds you of his cock inside you.
You squeak, shooting up.
“No. No moving”, you gasp, “I, I have so much more rehearsed.”
“You rehearsed?” he breathes out.
“Yeah.”
“How?”
You don’t answer him, instead you sit up and get into position so you are on your knees. You put your hands on his thighs and begin your well-practiced dance.
“Fuck”, Taehyung yelps, arching his back. Skin slaps against skin, your connection sounds wet and creamy. He grasps your hips first before his big hands settle on your waist instead. He squeezes you so much that he brings it in a little. The touch is like fire.
“Please don’t slow down”, he begs.
You couldn’t. Your muscles are going to shake so much afterwards, but in this very moment you exist for pleasuring him. In this intimate moment you exist for riding him senseless. Nothing could tire you.
You roll your head back, parting your lips.
“Taehyung”, you moan, writing his name against your g-spot one bounce at a time.
Taehyung finds it difficult to stay present. You move as if you have always done this. He has never been ridden this well before. He swears that he lost all feeling in his legs and that the knot in his stomach has never felt so fiery before.
He is losing himself in you. If you hadn’t fucked him into a non-verbal, moaning mess he would declare his everlasting love for you with every bounce.
But alas he is doomed to moan and whine and whimper, wetting his temples with tears.
“I love your cock, Tae. Holy fuck this is amazing.”
Your words do not make it easier to bear. Taehyung feels new flames flicker in his tummy whenever you speak.
He drags his hands to your chest, cupping your breasts. They are so soft in comparison to your pleasure-swollen nipples. He kneads and massages them, needing it to remind himself that he was not going to pass out.
“O-oh. Tae.”
He will never tire of this nickname. He can’t look, feeling you up blindly. So soft. Your nipples are hard in contrast. He plays with them, growing dizzy because his touch makes you tighter.
“___”, he moans because it is the only word he can still manage to say. If you keep bouncing on him in such a rhythm, he will burst. It is like you are jerking him off. Expect that it is a thousand times better, wetter and hotter. And softer. So soft. Oh, your pussy is so soft. Fuck, now he is focusing on how soft you are.
Taehyung whimpers, dropping his hands to your hips to stop their movements.
“Not yet, please. Not yet.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I‘m so close, please slow down”, he is whining, working oh so hard to keep you still.
Your tummy tingles pleasurably, your heart skips a giddy beat. You are making him feel that good. You didn‘t think that this would be possible, after all this is your first time on top of him and there is definitely still room for improvement.
Your instinct is to hide in him and giggle, but you are feeling kind of powerful right now. Powerful and desperate to make him whine.
“Didn’t you tell me not to slow down moments ago?”
Taehyung peels his eyes open, shock lacing his drunken gaze. Your teasing comment was unexpected, entirely scrambling his brain.
You snicker and caress his cheek, shifting on top of him so the penetration is slightly changed again.
“Make up your mind, darling husband”, you coo, rolling your hips back and forth. He is still buried deep inside you, getting hugged by your warm walls.
“What the fuck is happening today?” Taehyung mewls.
“I am feeling like it”, you lower yourself, hands pushing his arms above his head again and breasts squeezing against his chest. Your feet press to the side of his thighs this way, your soft cunt is so tight around him.
“Who are you?” he whispers, staring into your darkened, sultry eyes.
“Your wife”, you coo and kiss his neck. You made him so sensitive and sore with your earlier bites that Taehyung’s only way to handle it is by bending his knees and pressing his feet into the ground. He almost throws you off him, resulting in you squeezing down on him and lifting your lips.
“No.” You slap his chest very softly. “Bad boy. Don’t be a bad boy.”
He drops his knees, eyes filling with tears.
“It’s so difficult to stay still. I’m so sensitive”, he whines, writhing on the floor.
“Try to. Doctor’s orders.”
He gasps, eyes widening.
“You are insane.”
“You tempted me”, you coo and kiss his lips before straightening back up.
You get to your knees properly and pick up the fast rhythm of before. One hand is on his stomach, feeling him up and enjoying his twitches. The other hand is on his knee, keeping it down and supporting yourself. Lady Inna spoke of riding horses and, well, the only thing you are riding today is your husband. And oh you are galloping right now, movements precise and greedy. You are reaching your limit, both physically and as far as your own high is concerned. Your muscles shake each time you lift yourself, your legs tremble whenever you take him back inside and he presses to your sensitive spots.
“Yes Tae, yes. I fucking love this. Your cock’s amazing. So fucking amazing.”
But you cannot stop. Ignore the fatigue, focus on the pleasure. You want to continue until your cunt knows his cock by heart. Or inch by inch in her case.
Gods, you really love having him inside, giving him a good show of it as well. So wet and creamy.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck, ho-holy fuck”, Taehyung is barely breathing, using what little air he has to voice his shock.
“Yeah… so good, your cock’s so fucking good”, you agree, arching your back sensually.
Your breasts bounce, your stomach tenses and your face is glowing in pleasure. The sunlight bounces off your skin and hair, sweat glistens in the crevices. Your cunt is sinful in comparison. Stuffed to the brim with cock, lips swollen and stretched, and juices smearing all over his length.
“Mistress, holy fuck.”
“Good boy. Good boy with the best cock”, you lull, entirely sex drunk and blissed out.
You are insane. A temptress. The very goddess of sex having come down to make his life a pleasurable heaven.
Taehyung throws his arm over his mouth and bites into it. These walls are way too thin. He cannot scream.
He remembers when you made him promise to never ever seduce him in your office. Where did this version of you go? Why can’t you be more like her? Because Taehyung is losing himself. It is building up rapidly and aggressively.
He reaches for your waist, biting down harder at the feeling of you. It is going to happen and it will happen regardless of whether you slow down again or not. He cannot drag it out any longer.
You know that it will happen. You have never seen him bite his own arm before. His muscles are tense, his veins are bulging and his big hand is balled to a fist.
“Do you have to, beloved?”
He nods his head, squeezing your waist.
His cheeks are squished up, flushed and glistening. His eyes are barely there because he squeezes them shut so tightly.
Curious, you lean slightly forward and play with his nipples.
Taehyung squeaks and arches his back. He drops his arm, head rolling to the side so he can lick his own skin. His muscles are bulging, his tongue is so pink in comparison to his honey skin. His pits are exposed like this. All natural and masculine. What a fucking view. This is changing you.
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
You want to get him there. Watching his orgasm is the one thing you need to reach your own. You massage and pinch his nipples, tightening around him because you are getting very close yourself.
“Holding out for so long, I’m so proud of you.”
“Mistress please.”
“Don’t stop on my account. Be a good boy.”
Taehyung swears that he blacks out for a second. He takes your left hand and presses it over his mouth, muffling the uncontrollable yelp you force out of him. His thick, hot orgasm shoots up into you. His cock throbs and twitches.
“Good boy, such a good boy. Give me your pinnacle”, you encourage him.
Lead by only one thing, pleasure, Taehyung thrusts up. Hard and rough.
“Beloved, now”, you whimper, dropping your head as your own high hits you. You love sex with him so much.
“Kiss me please”, he drags you down, rutting up into you as you orgasm around him. The kisses you share are sloppy and wet.
You could do this forever.
But alas a human orgasm only lasts this long and your muscles finally give up on you afterwards.
“Ah shit.”
You drop onto him, lying on him in frog position. Your face is pressed to his neck, your heart beats just as quickly as his’.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” He hugs you. “What the fuck?”
This was better than you imagined it. You feel high, drunk and soaked in endorphins.
And also, very tired, spent and sore. Your hips are starting to cramp up.
“I am going to cramp.” You sit up and attempt to climb off his legs. You squeeze his orgasm out of you accidentally, knees shaking so much that you collide with the floor rather clumsily.
“Shit, fuck. Sorry. Ouch.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Just made a mess. O-oh no my legs are weak, I cannot get up.”
Taehyung laughs breathily, throwing his arm over his eyes.
“Fuck.” He smiles so bright. “You’re seriously insane.”
You snicker and settle on your elbow, facing him sideways. You love him so much.
“I don’t think I can walk in the near future.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
You rub his stomach, making him drop his arm and look at you. You wipe his past tears, grinning at him proudly.
“What the fuck did you do this for?” he asks.
“Just so. Why?”
“I wanted to scream.”
“Oh? Wow, I had hoped that you would. I’m happy.”
“I’m not, I’m in shock.”
You snicker, “was it really this good?”
“Yes. Where did you learn to move like this?” he asks, barely keeping his eyes open. If he was any less obsessed with your face, he would have already closed them. But alas he does not want to miss out on anything.
“I went to Lady Inna and she showed me.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because I asked her to.”
“Why??”
“Because you always make me feel so good and I wanted to return the favour.”
“Oh.” His face becomes beet red.
The view makes you laugh and cradle his face so you can kiss it everywhere.
“You are adorable. Do I fluster you, beloved?”
“Yeah, so much”, he sighs, heart beating in his giddy chest. He loves being adored. “And you arouse me like no other.”
Your gaze softens, “yeah? What did you like the most?”
“Apart from everything? When you leaned back and arched your back.”
“Lady Inna said that you would like that.” You kiss his shoulder, draping your arm across his chest. “When I ride you again, you could try playing with my clit.”
“Hot. You are so hot. Oh gods, you’re going to make me want to go again.”
You laugh and kiss him.
“Your hunger must wait. If I used my legs right now, they would fall off. Look.” You show him how they shake with the slightest movement.
“You are going to be so sore tomorrow.”
“Most definitely, but it was worth it. I had so much fun.”
“Me too.” He rolls to his side, resting his head on his hand. “I’m so happy that you are so comfortable with sex these days.”
You lie down, facing him in the same position.
“Me too. I feel so free when I’m with you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“But also you have to be less free. What you did right now should be illegal. Wow”, he jokes and pretends to faint, making you laugh loudly.
“Never. You created a monster that is insatiable, so feed me”, you say and snuggle into him, burying him halfway under you
Which is perfectly fine for him. Taehyung is exactly where he wants to be.
“And there is nothing I can do to still the hunger?”
“Nothing. Especially looking like this, you royal banquet you”, you say and bite him playfully.
Taehyung giggles, heart bursting in his chest. He loves being adored.
A/N: GUYS, I HAD THE WORST BIT OF WRITER'S BLOCK. IT WAS TORTURE [I'm not even kidding], but then I dove into my notes app and was able to revive this into something so yay!
Synopsis: When JK realizes you're overworking yourself, he orders some bed rest, and he isn't above convincing you it's what's best for you.
[Requested]
Warnings: mdni, 18+, nerd! JK, established relationship, college! au, a little fluff, fingering, oral (f rec.), soft boyfriend! JK, praise, pussydrunk! JK, banter, gamer! JK, pet names (baby), etc
WC: 2.6K +
[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE 'KEEP READING' TAG]
If you ask a gamer why they game, they will most likely say it relaxes them.
Then, within minutes, you would find them slamming the keys on their keyboard, exclaiming profanities either into a mic or into the void as an array of colors flashed across their monitor. Their jaw would clench, their eyes would widen to take everything in, and their shoulders would tense as they rapidly clicked on the mouse to move their character across the screen.
Or, that's what Jungkook did when you lounged on his bed in the dorms. You had come over the moment you ended your shift at your part-time job, taking only a moment to shower and change before you found yourself at Jungkook's door like you normally did. It had become a routine of yours since you two started dating. You spent less and less time at your own place and took a liking to lounging at your boyfriend's, where you could sleep in his bed and eat his food while you caught up on your latest assignments for your classes.
More of your stuff littered in between Jungkook's. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup inside the bathroom, a drawer was dedicated to your panties and bras, and your bunny slippers matched Jungkook's at the foot of the door leading into the dorm room.
Jungkook was lucky enough not to have any roommates this year, and with the amount of time you were spending at his, it would be inevitable that you two would probably find an apartment the following year - and you hoped it would be one with thicker walls from the way your boyfriend would shout for a "healer" in between battles.
Jungkook was a total nerd.
He wore glasses, had anime posters on his walls, and collected figurines like they were going out of style. Your favorite was a Spiderman one that he propped to hang upside down over the lamp on his desk. It was your little companion as you formed your research paper through a late night that would probably bleed into your weekend, and you couldn't help but look at it now and then between squinting at your laptop as you tried not to bang your head on the wooden desk in defeat.
You were so far gone in your head that you hadn't even realized your boyfriend wasn't yelling into his mic anymore.
"You good, Baby?"
You blinked the bleariness away from your eyes, twisting in the chair to face your boyfriend's second desk area with belated reaction. "Huh?" Your brain felt mushy and not in the good kind of way when Jungkook made your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your nails scratched into his back for mercy. Instead, you blinked a few more times to focus on your boyfriend with soft eyes. "Oh, uh, yeah? I'm just working on Volkov's assignment."
Your hum isn't convincing, and your eyes drift over Jungkook slowly, taking in your boyfriend's fluffy hair, his glasses sitting on the small dip in his nose, and the glint of his lip piercing, which his tongue plays with when he tries to concentrate. He was wearing a baggy black sweatshirt with matching sweatpants, and he paired them with the pink bunny slippers you had bought as a joke, which he wore religiously when you showed him you had gotten yourself a pair to match.
"Take a break, you've been at it for hours now." You blinked again, slowly registering that he was telling the truth. Your eyes flickered to the clock at his bedside table, and you couldn't even pretend to be shocked that it had been five hours. This also meant Jungkook had been on a game for the same amount of time, too. "You know what, on the bed. Lay down."
Jungkook wouldn't even allow you to come up with an excuse as to why you should continue studying - he simply stood from his desk, his chunky headphones covering one ear, the mic pointing up to the ceiling, letting you know he was muted. "Koo-"
"No, go lie down." He helped you get up, grabbing you by the hands like you wouldn't make it on your own, and practically pushed you onto his full bed, making you huff. You could see the countdown on his monitor even from here as he kept his back to it, shoving a Bakugo plushy in your direction. He was switching to League of Legends if you remembered correctly, and you could hear muffled chatter coming from his headphones, letting you know he was playing with the boys.
"Koo, I can tuck myself in." You rolled your eyes affectionately but made no move to genuinely stop his actions as he pulled a soft blanket over you.
"Behave, and I promise to reward you after this game."
You rolled your eyes again, 'after this game,' usually was code for the next three games, and you kept quiet as Jungkook gave you a dazzling smile, kissing your forehead before bounding back over to his gaming chair. You watched him, beyond amused as he looked at you one more time with a grin before turning back to his monitor. Then he pushed his mic down, immediately talking trash to Jin as the monitor counted down from ten.
-
When Jungkook wakes you, you don't even realize you fell asleep until you hear him calling your name softly. "See, I knew you needed a break."
Your lips curved into a pout, your eyes squinting as you took in your boyfriend standing over you with a smirk. He wasn't wearing headphones anymore, but his monitors were still up, showing a moving background of cherry blossoms falling from a tree. "What time is it?" Your eyes moved to the clock, and you blinked at the time staring back at you. You slept for three hours.
"I ordered some takeout, by the way." Your gaze flickered back to Jungkook, and your lips twitched into a knowing smile.
"Chen's Garden?" It was the local Chinese restaurant nearest to your campus, and also one of your favorites. You were already imagining the fried rice and mandu you could eat as you continued your paper, but it was like Jungkook could read your mind.
"No, no paper - you're taking a break."
"I took a break! I napped. You made me nap!"
Jungkook rolled his eyes, and you followed his actions, crossing your arms defiantly.
"Your body made you nap, not me- don't be stubborn."
"Don't be bossy-"
"I'm not-" You tried to get up, and Jungkook cut himself off to push you back down. "Stay down. Relax, you're working too hard."
"Look, bossy." You huffed, and Jungkook narrowed his eyes, wiggling his nose at you.
"Fine, I'm bossy, but I will tie you down if I need to. Your paper can wait one day." Jungkook didn't even give you the chance to rebut; he simply climbed into bed with you, caging you between him and the mattress. His hands rested on either side of your head, and his hips nestled between your legs, making your cheeks flush as he gave you another smirk. "Don’t be stubborn, be good for me."
That simple little instruction seemed to short-circuit your brain. Any resistance you previously had was replaced with thoughts of the last time your boyfriend told you that you were good for him. You lowkey hated how easily his words could affect you. Your eyelashes fluttered as you gave another pout.
"You know you're going to have to get off me at some point to grab the takeout," you mumbled, and Jungkook huffed a laugh. He could see the color darkening in your cheeks, and that you were no longer meeting his eyes as you moved your gaze just over his shoulder.
"Yeah? I think I still have time to convince you to follow my orders, though."
"Your orders?" You echoed and felt a little pool of warmth begin to form in your lower stomach. You were acutely aware that Jungkook was still crowded over you, his hips keeping your legs open as he looked down at you with a grin.
"Yeah, plus I still haven't rewarded you for behaving earlier-" His face came closer, his eyes flickering to your lips as he hummed. "Do you want your reward?" His lips were so close to yours, you could feel your own lips tingle, the need for more heating you up as you nodded your head dumbly with a soft mumble.
"What's my reward?"
Jungkook doesn't answer you with words; instead, his lips press into yours, and all your thoughts melt as his body sinks into you - keeping you trapped. He kisses you like it's the first time, or like it'll be the last, his head tilting, deepening your kiss until you're clutching onto him as if he might leave. But he would never. Not when your body reacts to him so well, you're already mindlessly tugging on his sweatshirt, your thighs squeezing his hips as he coaxes you to open your mouth with his tongue.
His groan earns a whine from you, and his hips roll forward to grind his hardening cock against your covered pussy, jumbling your thoughts again as he begins to kiss down your neck with slow fervor.
He makes you forget about your paper, about college, about your job, and everything else - you're unable to focus on anything but the hitch in his breath as he grinds into you with slow rolls that make you feel how much you affect him as he does to you.
His lips suck just under your earlobe, his tongue wetting the skin and making you arch prettily for him, just as his hands slide under your shirt to map the way your body curves as his teeth brand a love bite into your skin. “Don’t want to get up now, do you?” He mumbles, and your head falls back into the pillows as he pushes your shirt up, exposing your pretty tits.
If you normally spent the weekend at his, you did so comfortably, foregoing the bra, and usually wearing just one of his old t-shirts unless you two left his dorm. It made it easy access for him to touch, to admire, and most importantly, to kiss whenever he wanted to, and right now? He really wanted to.
His head dips, and his hand sneaks around your waist and up your back to arch you up to his hungry mouth. He groans the same time you gasp as his wet tongue swirls one of your nipples into his warm mouth, sucking on it until you are tingling all the way down to your pussy.
“Jungkook- mmmph!” Your moans get breathier the more his mouth stays on you, making new waves of your arousal seep between your thighs.
He takes his time to suck while his hands slide down your waist and under your thighs, spreading you open while he moves to give your other breast the same attention. When he’s satisfied, he gives you a lazy grin while your eyes gloss over, and he leans back down to give you another sweet kiss.
“Stay in bed with me, and I’ll make it worth your while, Baby.” He murmurs, and you wonder how you got such a hot nerd until you see just how much his ears burn red, reminding you he’s still the same man who stuttered when he first talked to you.
The duality makes your head spin, and you don’t notice that he’s dragging your shorts and panties down your legs until his shoulders rest between your thighs and his eyes sparkle as he takes in your pretty pussy up close.
“JK-“ your words fail the moment his tongue parts your puffy folds with a long stroke, stopping just at your clit to make your brain fog up and your mouth drop. But it’s JK who moans first, hot and heavy as your slick coats his tongue. You’re sweet and addictive, as always, and his eyes roll when your hand finds the back of his head to pull him closer to your drooling cunt.
“Yeah, keep saying my name-“ He mumbled, his voice muffled by the fat of your thighs. He dives his tongue in deeper, spreading your lips to get a better taste of your arousal, and making your head tilt back to face the ceiling.
One of your hands stays curled in his dark hair, keeping him to you, even though you are sure you’ll have to be the one to pull him off you soon enough, and the other clutches the Bakugo plushie you forgot you had been holding in your sleep as the room fills with the sounds of your moans and Jungkook’s sloppy kisses to your cunt.
Jungkook gets drunk off your pussy easily, the feeling of your gummy walls fluttering around his tongue as you whine his name is enough to make his hips press down onto the mattress underneath him. And there had been a few occasions he’d cum untouched, just like this, as your thighs squeezed his head and your hips rolled up to his hungry mouth. But today, he plans to last longer, wanting to keep you in his bed while he makes sure you relax.
Each whimper and whine he pulls out of you has his cock splurting a few gooey wads of his precum onto his boxers, which he ruts against his bed, unwilling to part from your glossy cunt as he suck, slurps, and kisses himself pussydrunk between your thighs. Soon enough, his tongue swirls around your clit, writing out his name while his fingers sink into your entrance, stretching you all the way down to the knuckle with ease.
When his fingertips caress the familiar spongey spot inside your wet channel, your vision whitens, and your moans grow louder - just as Jungkook wants. He focuses on it with a mean precision, working your orgasm faster so that it makes your cries of his name choke off into wet gurgles as your eyes cross lewdly.
"Just like in the hentais," He smirks, and the lower half of his face gleams with your sweet slick like a badge of honor. "C'mon, pretty girl, want you to cum for me." He coos, and he stuffs you with a third finger, reducing you into a blabbering mess as he leans his head back down to flick his tongue on your pulsing clit - matching the pace of his fingers thrusting into you.
And it's all you need to fall apart. Your eyes roll back as your mouth drops open and the warmth in your stomach bursts, gushing your orgasm onto your boyfriend's waiting tongue with a squeal. Your thighs tremble throughout it all, and Jungkook's head gets squished between them as he continues to fuck you. His fingers feel every squeeze of your velvety walls, and your clit gets lapped by his fat tongue until you push on his forehead to get him off your sensitive cunt.
That's when he finally lets you go, grinning like your slick wasn't dripping down his chin as you tried to catch your breath.
With perfect timing, a knock is heard, and Jungkook is licking his lips as he gets off the bed. "That's the takeout. You stay here, I'll grab the food, and we can eat in bed, okay?" Jungkook talks to you as the ringing in your ears slowly subsides, and he flashes you another beaming smile as he squeezes your ankle affectionately. "And then after we eat, I'm going to fuck you- then you really won't be leaving my bed until tomorrow morning."
You don't even have time to respond, only noticing a dark stain blooming on his black sweatpants as he bounds out of the bedroom to grab the food as he planned.
대박 - you made it to the end!
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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~
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 ♡
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~
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 ♡
Some of my all-time favourites!! Fics that have altered my brain chemistry and/or made me cry at 2am when I definitely should’ve been sleeping.
On a more serious note, these authors are incredibly talented. The skill they have to not only come up with these plots, but to bring them to life in a way that makes you feel so deeply is honestly insane. I have so much admiration for them! So proud of our writer Army ♡
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The Art of War More by @kpopfanfictrash [fluff, smut, college!au, 18+] 42.4k
Jeon Jungkook had messed with you for the last time. That was what you thought when the hockey team - led by the insufferable Jungkook - kicked your dance team out again from your reserved room at the gym. In retaliation, you planned a prank of epic proportions and were caught in the act by none other than Jungkook himself. Before the rift between you could grow any deeper, you accidentally overheard something you were not meant to hear. Something which overshadowed even your heated rivalry. Faced with the choice between obvious wrong and teaming up with your worst enemy - you reluctantly chose the latter. But what will you do when your feelings you once thought of as hatred become something decidedly... not?
Hotter than hell by @chateautae [angst, fluff, smut, fallen lucifer!Jungkook, fantasy!au, 18+] 136k
jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
Get Him Back by @inthelow [fluff, angst, smut, idol!au, fake relationship!au]
after a hard breakup with who, you thought, would be the one, the only thing in your mind was a sad playlist of Taylor Swift songs and red wine. But, what happens when your neighbour— who is done of hearing you cry at 2 am every day — puts the idea in your head of getting your ex back? but with a good and sweet revenge… of course everything will be easier if you didn’t have any feelings for your ex and if your neighbour wasn’t a superstar idol who doesn’t have a problem at pretending to be your boyfriend to piss off that ex— who also happens to be his ex best friend— What a mess, right?
Colour Vision by dappleddaisies (one of the first bts fics I ever read 😭)
Wattpad link
MULTI || those who see in colour vision
The result of a chemical reaction. connecting cone-shaped receptors in the eyes to cells. The reaction only occurs when a person falls in love and releases a special formulation of hormones, colloquially known as the 'colour cocktail'.
MONO || those who see in greyscale
The residual state of those who are yet to experience love, or those who have fallen out of love. Accounts for nearly 40% of the adult population. Turning Mono is the leading global cause for divorces, making up a staggering 68%.
Labyrinth by @wintrbears [major angst, smut, fluff, grief] 31.3k
(Jungkook x reader, past Yoongi x reader and omg this really made me cry)
“Uh oh, I'm falling in love. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down. How’d you turn it right around?” — Taylor Swift
Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie [major angst, fluff, smut, 18+] 50k
Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
You often wondered how Jiyeon wasn’t bothered by his behavior. In fact, she often seemed to encourage it. What you failed to see was that she was just trying to show you how he reflected your light. Jiyeon had realized he was in love with you even before he did, but of course she knew. It was a twin thing.
So despite the fighting and teasing, you always found yourself drawn back to him. You knew he was one of two constants in your life: the Jeon twins were - and had always been - your one indisputable truth. You were the sun, Jungkook was the moon, and Jiyeon was the sky holding you both up When she died, it ripped a black hole right through you.
I'm sorry for late posting, I'm really very very busy even now but i can't keep you waiting when already three days have passed, so here you are love. i hope you like them. Enjoy.
Idol!Jungkook Fanfics
➛ The Mask of Purity by @lostinbangtan7 (on-going)
➛ Amor Genuino by @kalisburnerphone
➛ Out of Breathe by @bangtanfanfiction
➛ Yearning by @soft4gguk
➛ Hit Me Up by @jjksmagicshop (on-going, smau series)
➛ Late-Night Convenience Store by @97linelover
➛ To Be Loved Is To Be Seen by @twilghtkoo
➛ Creamy Pasta, Heated Love by @kittenan
➛ Just One Night by @smoljimjim
➛ After Hours by @kooggukk
➛ Terms and Condition by @jeonettefics
➛ One Song Too Many by @joonam
➛ Beyond The Camera by @ggukool
➛ Overdrive by @jjksdoll
➛ Encore by @youthguk
➛ The Golden Cage by @97linelover
➛ I'm Sure by @kooksure (on-going)
➛ Makeup Artist by @kooksdollyy
➛ The Rival Idol Experiment by @hvlplvss (on-going)
➛ Forgiving is just one aspect of loving someone by @moodysfn
➛ Don't Get Caught by @kooksdollyy
➛ Daddy Kookie by @jkwrites-m (on-going)
➛ Push and Pull by @awrkive
➛ Decay by @youthguk
➛ Angel by @kooksdollyy
➛ The Surprise by @directionernullneun
➛ Opposite of Sun by @euphorajeon
➛ Light of the Morning by @euphorajeon
➛ Off the Beam by @euphorajeon
➛ If it's a Dream (I'll Come Around) by @euphorajeon
➛ Reckless by @sparklingchim
➛ Not in the Job Description by @jooniesthigh
➛ All Over Again by @delugguk
➛ ADHD Kisses by @zerocoded
➛ Denial by @girlygguk
➛ The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts
summary: you have a pretty normal life as a college student. Everything changes one spring break when you visit Korea to see some family and your sister decides to drag you along to stalk the famous pop-star Jeon Jungkook, part of the most famous group in the world — the one you despise— and the one you unexpectedly keep running into.
pairing: uni student! reader x idol! jeon jungkook
genre: rom-com. annoyances-to-lovers. fluff. trynna-be-comedy. a lil angst but not really. | reader is really annoying sometimes. jungkook can be an asshole but he’s still a cutie pie. reader has a sister lowkey sasaeng but thanks to her the story has a plot!! 97line mentioned. jimin and tae appearance in the first part!!.
warning!— this story contains mature content. smut (fingering, oral sex-fem! receiving, handjob, penetration, protected sex, dirty talk, etc). — second part SFW
author’s note: second part is here!! hope u enjoy this one. has a lot more of banter and its very cutesy hehe >_< part 3 (final part) coming next week!!
word count: +14k words
part one; part two; part three.
This was a very bad idea
Getting Jungkook inside your house felt illegal.
Not in an actual you’re-going-to-jail way but in that very specific, very personal way where your brain keeps repeating this is a bad idea while your body just keeps moving anyway. The house was quiet, thankfully, the quiet that meant your parents and great grandparents were already asleep, lights off, everything still, and for a moment you just stood there by the door with Jungkook behind you, both of you listening like you were about to get caught doing something criminal.
“…Why are we being so quiet?” he whispered.
“I told you to shut up,” you whispered back immediately. “If they know I’m sneaking someone they’ll kill me.” You shook your head. “And my sister will literally jump out on you.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together for a second. “She’s a big fun, huh.”
“Big is an understatement.”
“Really?”
“Just shut up and keep walking.”
You didn’t wait for him to respond, just turned and started heading down the hallway, barefoot, careful, trying to remember which floorboard made noise and which didn’t, like you had suddenly lived there your whole life. He followed close behind, surprisingly quiet for someone who had spent the last few hours doing too much.
When you reached your room, you pushed the door open slowly and slipped inside, gesturing for him to do the same before closing it behind you with a soft click.
There was a silence, a real weird silence. You both just stood there for a second, looking at each other.
“Okay,” you said finally, turning the light on. “This is my room while I stay here.”
He looked around, taking it in with quiet curiosity— the bed, your stuff thrown in a big suitcase, the slightly old bed and furniture. He could tell it wasn’t your place but your family house. He wondered for a second how your real home would look like.
“Nice,” he said.
“Don’t get too comfortable.”
“I’m definitely not.”
You rolled your eyes, already moving toward the closet and pulling out extra blankets, tossing them onto the floor next to your bed without much ceremony. “You’re sleeping there.”
He looked down. “…On the floor.”
“Yes.”
He glanced at the bed then back at you. “…There’s space.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Worth a try,” he smiled innocently.
“Was it?”
“No.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it easily, looking mildly impressed. “Stop being so aggressive.”
“You’re welcome,” you ignored his comment.
“Yeah, thanks a lot.” He said sarcastically.
You crouched down, fixing the blankets into something that vaguely resembled a bed, your movements slower now that the exhaustion was finally catching up with you. Your head still hurt, not sharply anymore, just a dull reminder that the night had been real and not some weird fever dream.
Behind you, he cleared his throat slightly.
“Hey.”
You didn’t look up. “What.”
“Do you have anything I can wear tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like… something to cover my face,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “So I don’t get recognized.”
You looked up at him slowly. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
You stared at him for a second longer before standing up, walking over to the drawer and pulling it open, digging around for a moment before grabbing something and tossing it at him.
He caught it, looked at it for a second and then looked back at you. “A pink hat.”
You crossed your arms. “Now you owe me one thousand… and five dollars.”
He let out a small laugh, turning the hat in his hands. “It’s… very pink. And it says ‘flop’.”
You had bought it back in your country in a drunk thrift shopping night. A long story you didn’t want to share with him.
“You want a purple one?”
“I’m not sure about that,” he smirked. “Purple is a very us colour.”
Of course.
You looked at him with boredom. “Great. Stay with the pink one then.”
He sighed. “Okay...”
There was a brief pause as he put it on, then glanced toward the door, like he could somehow see through it.
“Is this all necessary?” you asked, leaning back against the drawer. “The whole hiding thing.”
He looked at you like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Yes.” You raised an eyebrow. “They’re everywhere.”
“Paranoid,” you sang mockingly.
“Whatever,” he shook his head slightly, sitting down on the makeshift bed on the floor. “You wouldn’t get it.”
You didn’t even hesitate. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. I’m not a superstar.”
That shut him up for a second, your voice being so mean made him rolled his eyes. The energy in the room shifted a little but you didn’t notice.
Probably you didn’t care either.
You changed into something more comfortable, not bothering to hide, just turning your back and pulling off your hoodie, swapping it for a loose t-shirt, kicking off your socks and climbing into bed like the night had finally decided to end. He stayed quiet while you did, adjusting the blanket around himself and pretending he wasn’t looking your naked skin the second you took off your hoodie. It wasn’t like you were showing him your tits anyway, he didn’t feel guilty to have a look at your naked back.
The room settled into something softer, calmer, the chaos of everything before slowly fading into something that almost felt normal when you both got comfortable into each of your blankets.
“Hey,” he said after a moment.
You didn’t bother to look at him “What?”
“Thanks— You know… for not leaving me outside.”
You shrugged lightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m doing it for the money.”
“That’s not why you did it,” he chuckled, knowing it wasn’t true. “I haven’t pay you yet.”
“I trust a person who has the money to pay me will pay me,” you sighed. “I still have faith in humanity.”
He smiled a little at that, even if you weren’t looking. “I will.”
You didn’t say anything back. Silence filled the room again but this time it didn’t feel awkward.
He didn’t fall asleep immediately. You noticed it because you didn’t either.
At first you thought he had, he was quiet, lying on his back on the floor, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting over his stomach like he didn’t really know what to do with himself. The blanket you gave him barely covered anything, and the pink hat was still on his head, slightly tilted, which should have looked ridiculous, but somehow didn’t. You were facing the ceiling too, hands folded over your stomach, eyes open in the dark.
It was quiet in a way that felt almost staged. Like if either of you moved too much, the whole thing would break.
A few seconds passed. Then minutes and minutes. You decided to turn around after what it felt like a long hour, looking if he finally found some sleep that you couldn’t. You found him in a weird position that made you snort quietly. He was lying on his back with his hands in his shoulders like a damn corpse.
“Do you always sleep like that?”
Your voice came out quieter than you expected.
There was a small pause before he answered, like he was checking if you were actually talking to him. He looked up at you.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re in a hospital bed.”
There was pause. You watched the faint shift of fabric while he moved his hands more comfortably, now watching you. Only half of your face was he able to see. “I didn’t realize I was that stiff.”
“You are,” you mumbled. “It was a little concerning.”
He let out a small breath that almost turned into a laugh, but not fully. “Do you always comment on how people sleep?”
“Only when they look like they were about to be pronounced dead.”
That time, he did laugh, a little quiet and short.
Silence settled again, but it was different now, less sharp, less forced and awkward.
You turned your body slightly to the corner of the bed, just enough to look at him better. He was back staring at the ceiling. “Were you actually comfortable?” you asked after a moment.
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“Like?”
“Cars, waiting rooms, practice rooms, airports…”
“Airports sound miserable.”
“They were… they are.”
There was something in the way he said it, not dramatic, not complaining, just factual. You shifted a little on your bed, pulling the blanket closer around yourself.
“Airports I get. Cars?” you frowned slightly. “Why?”
“Schedules. Filming runs late, you go somewhere else early. It’s not worth going home.”
“That sounds… horrible.”
“It’s not great.”
“Do you at least get like— actual sleep sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “When I don’t have anything the next day.”
“So…”
“So pretty much never,” he laughed quietly.
You smiled a little to yourself, eyes still on him. “Ever get used to your sleep schedule?”
“Weirdly yes. Now that we’ll start tour soon it might get a little difficult but we’ll handle it,” he said with confidence.
You found it really… endearing the way he was talking in plural. The group clearly had a good relationship, you couldn’t argue about that. Not that you have tried much after they proved you wrong by doing their comeback— when you spent years telling your sister they were going to pull a one direction stunt— they clearly got along very well.
You only hummed at that, not really interested in that subject since you already knew too much about that tour because of your sister.
Another small silence filled the room.
“What about you?” he suddenly asked.
You frowned slightly. “What about me?”
“Do you have a good sleep schedule?”
You snorted slightly at that. Was he trying to make conversation? Because it was pretty bad. You didn’t want to be more mean so you just answered naturally.
“Sometimes,” you admitted. “I’m a senior in college so sometimes I don’t sleep at all. Probably not as bad as yours.”
He hummed, thoughtful. “What are you studying?.”
“Film.”
“Do you like it?”
The question was simple, but it landed heavier than expected. “…Yeah,” you said, but slower this time. “I do.”
“Just ‘yeah’?”
You hesitated, then shifted onto your other side, facing the wall and not him. “I mean— it’s not like I have some big dramatic passion speech or anything,” you said. “I just… like it. I like stories, I like how things are put together. I like noticing things people don’t usually notice.” You paused, then added quieter, “It makes sense to me.”
There was a beat. “That sounds like more than just ‘yeah.’”
You huffed softly. “Don’t make it deep.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I was really not.” You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay, maybe a little.” He shifted slightly on the floor, turning his head toward your back. “What kind of films do you like?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“On my mood. On the day. On whether I wanted to feel something or not feel anything at all.”
“That’s very specific.”
“It’s true.”
He hummed softly, like he was actually thinking about it. “Do you make them too? Or just study?”
“I do both.” You paused. “Well… try to.”
“Try?”
“Turns out making films is harder than sitting in a classroom talking about them.”
“I can imagine.”
“And people are annoying,” you added. “Group projects are a nightmare.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “That I can definitely imagine.”
You smiled a little without meaning to. “What about you?” you asked after a second. “Do you still like it?”
“Music?”
“Yeah.”
There was a small pause again, but not uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he said, echoing your tone from before, “I do.”
“Just ‘yeah’?”
You heard the faintest hint of a smile in his voice. “Don’t make it deep.”
You huffed. “God, you are annoying.”
“I’ve been told.”
A small silence stretched between you, softer this time, almost… comfortable. “No, but seriously,” you said after a moment. “Do you?”
He exhaled slowly. “I do,” he repeated, a little quieter. “It’s just… different now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just is,” he didn’t explain much. “But I still love it.”
You nodded slightly, even though he couldn’t see. “When you were singing earlier,” you said, before you could overthink it, “I think everyone could tell you love it.” There was a pause. You immediately regretted saying it. You stared at the ceiling now, suddenly very aware of your own words. “I mean— not in a weird way,” you added quickly. “Just— like… you looked normal— Like it’s your thing, you know?. Not like… this whole different thing.”
Smooth. Really smooth.
You squeezed your eyes shut briefly, waiting for him to make fun of you, but Jungkook didn’t laugh.
“That was when it felt normal,” he said instead. “I like it when is my thing.” You opened your eyes again. “When I sing or work on something related to music.” He took a small pause, thinking about his words. “That is the only time it doesn’t feel… loud.”
You didn’t fully understand what he meant, but you got it enough. “That makes sense.”
Silence again.
“…Do you want to direct?”
“Oh, we’re back to me?.”
Jungkook snorted. “I’m just curious,” he said softly.
You huffed. “Eventually,” you admitted. “Or write. Or both. I don’t know yet.”
“You will.”
You moved around to glanced down at him. “That sounded very confident.”
“It is.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“You sound like you know what you like,” he said simply. “That’s already more than most people.”
You didn’t answer right away. “Maybe,” you said eventually. “What about you?” you asked. “Did you always want to do this?”
There was a small pause before he answered. “No.”
You raised an eyebrow slightly, a little surprised, even though he couldn’t see. “No?”
“No.” He shifted a little on the floor. “I like music, but I didn’t think it would be… this. There was a time I just wanted to quit and become a dancer.”
“What did you think it would be?”
“I didn’t think that far,” he admitted. “It just kind of happened, I was a kid when I joined the company.”
“That’s insane.”
“Why?”
“Because people spend their whole lives planning things and you just— fell into it?”
“I didn’t just fall into it,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “There was a lot of work involved.”
“Okay, fair. But still.” You paused. “…Do you ever wish it didn’t get this big?”
The question came out more casual than it felt. Jungkook didn’t answer immediately.
“Sometimes,” he said.
You nodded slightly. “That makes sense.”
“But,” he added after a second, “I wouldn’t undo it.”
You glanced at him again. “Not even a little?”
“Maybe a little,” he said, and you could hear the smile now. “But not enough to actually change it.”
You huffed softly. “That’s such a PR answer.”
“It’s my answer.”
You wondered how many times he practiced that answer. Or if you had ever judge him thinking he was just lying for the public. You didn’t know the real answer, but because there was no cameras and he was sleeping on your bedroom’s floor, you decided to believe it was his answer for the first time.
“Okay then.” There was the silence again. This time it stretched longer, but it didn’t feel awkward, just normal. You adjusted your pillow slightly. “Do you always talk this much to strangers?” you asked.
“Do you?”
“I asked first.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “No, I don’t,” he said after a second. “I don’t usually sleep on stranger’s floor either.”
“Yeah, I don’t usually let famous guys sleep on my floor either..”
“So this is weird.”
“A little.”
“Okay, good. We’re finally on the same page. It only took like nine hours of forced proximity.”
You smiled faintly. He was funny for that. “I think it’s the concussion,” you added, joining to the joke.
“You don’t have a concussion.”
“Allegedly.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, actually.”
“Are you a doctor now?”
“I’ve been around enough to know basic things.”
You let out a small laugh, softer this time. “Yeah? Like your friends?”
He pressed his lip together, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure they tried their best.”
“Oh, I’m sure too.”
He finally let a chuckle out.
Silence followed again, slower now. Sleepier. The night was already becoming dawn. You couldn’t help the feeling of being about to pass out of tiredness. But, surprisingly, you still wanted to talk to him.
“What do you even do when you’re not working?” you asked, voice quieter.
“Nothing exciting.”
“Define that.”
“Stay home. Watch stuff, cook, play video-games, sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s so boring.”
“It’s peaceful.”
“Okay, yeah, fair. Maybe with a life like yours.” You shifted slightly, trying not to close your eyes. “What do you watch?”
“Anything, really.”
“Bad answer,” you muttered. “I’m a film major, come on. Do better.”
“It’s true.”
“Give me something specific.”
He exhaled softly, thinking. “Movies, mostly. Sometimes documentaries.”
You perked up slightly. “Documentaries about what?”
“Random things,” he said. “I watched one about deep sea creatures last week.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “They looked weird.”
“That’s your reasoning to watch documentaries?”
“They were interesting.”
You shook your head lightly. “That’s such a guy answer.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“No, explain.”
“I won’t.”
“Coward.” You smiled into your pillow. Silence settled again, heavier now. Your eyes were starting to close between sentences. “You’re gonna fall asleep,” he said quietly.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m literally talking.”
“Barely.”
You huffed softly. “You too,” you mumbled.
“Probably.” He paused for a second. “…Hey,” he said after a moment.
“Mm?”
“Thanks.”
You frowned slightly, eyes still closed. “For what?”
“For not making this weird.”
You let out a quiet breath. “It is weird.”
“Yeah, but… not in a bad way.”
You thought about that for a second. “I guess,” you admitted.
There was another pause.
“…And for the hat,” he finally added.
That made you smile, even with your eyes closed. “That’s $1005, dude.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “Right, I forgot.”
“Inflation. I need that money.”
“Obviously.”
You shifted slightly under your blanket, suddenly more aware of how late it was. How weird this whole situation was but how it didn’t feel as weird as it should.
“Don’t snore,” you whispered almost faintly.
“I don’t snore.”
“You look like you snore.”
“That’s rude.”
“…Goodnight, Jungkook.”
Silence settled one last time. Neither of you spoke again. And somewhere between one slow breath, the conversation faded out, and you both fell asleep. You didn’t realize you were ending the night with the guy you didn’t want to see even in pictures not long that fifteen hours ago.
——————————
The next morning didn’t start very calm.
It started with banging. Loud, aggressive, completely unnecessary banging that echoed through your door like someone was trying to break it down, followed immediately by your sister’s voice, already way too awake for the hour.
“Wake up!”
You groaned into your pillow, barely even conscious, one arm thrown over your head as if that would somehow block both the noise and her existence. “Go away,” you mumbled, your voice muffled and thick with sleep, not even bothering to open your eyes. “It’s too early.”
More banging.
“It’s eleven in the morning. Get up! We need to talk!”
“We don’t,” you muttered, turning your face further into the pillow. “Go away.”
“I have the key!”
“Uhm”
There was a pause, it was brief, but suspiciously quiet— and then you heard the doorknob.
Your eyes snapped open.
Wait…
Oh my god, Jungkook.
You shot up halfway in bed, heart jumping straight into your throat. “Wait! Don’t—” you started, already turning toward the floor, toward where he had been…
But there was nothing there.
The blanket was folded— badly, but still folded— and the space where he had slept was empty. You blinked slowly. He was gone. He had actually left. Just like he said he would.
Thank God.
“…What are you doing?” your sister asked, already halfway inside your room, looking at you like you’d just sat up from a nightmare.
You stared at the empty spot for a second longer before letting yourself drop back over the bed, exhaling slowly, the tension leaving your body all at once in a way that almost made you feel ridiculous. Relief settled in instead. You were glad he left before everyone woke up. You didn’t have to sneak him out there, you didn’t need your sister screaming your house down because Jeon Jungkook had been sleeping on your floor.
That was great.
“Nothing,” you said, running a hand through your hair, trying to make yourself look less like you’d just been caught hiding something. “Why are you breaking my door?”
“I’ve been calling you for like ten minutes!” She shot back, walking fully into the room now, hands on her hips. “And you weren’t answering your phone, and you weren’t in the living room, and you weren’t anywhere—”
“I was sleeping,” you cut in, sitting down. “Crazy concept.”
She ignored that completely. “You left me yesterday,” she said instead, narrowing her eyes. “At the concert. Alone.”
“I didn’t leave you,” you said, already dragging a hand over your face. “You went inside. I stayed outside. That was the plan.”
“The plan was for you to wait!”
“I did wait.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough.”
She stared at you. You stared back. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying,” you said, which was technically not entirely true, but close enough to survive the conversation. “I got bored, I went to eat, and then—” you paused, touching your forehead instinctively, “—I had a small accident.”
Her expression changed immediately. “Oh, it was true?”
“It was a small accident,” you repeated. “Very small. Almost impressively small.”
She stepped closer without even thinking, grabbing your chin lightly to tilt your face toward the light. “What did you do?”
“I walked into something.”
“You walked into something?”
“It came out of nowhere.”
“A wall doesn’t come out of nowhere.”
“It wasn’t a wall,” you said. “It was… more like a pole situation.”
She blinked at you. “A pole?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you hit a pole?”
“I don’t know, it just happened.”
She squinted, clearly not believing a single word of it, but her attention shifted when she noticed the small bandage on your forehead, her fingers hovering near it before gently pressing around the area. “Did you go to a hospital?”
“Yeah, just a small one,” you said. “I got dizzy, they checked me, I’m fine. No concussion, unfortunately.”
She frowned slightly, still inspecting you like you might fall apart if she looked away for too long. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Am I ever?.”
“Girl,” she gave you a look.
“I’m okay,” you said, a little softer this time. “Really.”
She studied you for another second before finally stepping back, her shoulders relaxing just a little.
“You’re so stupid,” she muttered, but there was no real bite behind it now.
“That’s why you know we’re related.”
A small pause settled between you, and then, like a switch flipping, her entire expression shifted.
“…I got in yesterday,” she said. You closed your eyes briefly. Of course. “I got in,” she repeated, louder this time, like you hadn’t heard her the first time. “Like, inside-inside. Front area.”
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “We had a deal.”
“I know, I know,” she waved it off, already pacing a little as she spoke. “I’m just saying, just one thing—”
“No.”
“Just one—”
“No.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“It was a deal.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically, but that didn’t stop her. “I didn’t see them that much up close,” she continued anyway, clearly incapable of stopping herself. “Only the last song, because security was— whatever— but still, like, they were right there. And Jungkook—” You gave her a look. She ignored you. “God, he was just so amazing,” she said quickly, holding up her hands when you groaned. “I’m just— making an observation.”
“No observations.”
“He sounds insane,” she added anyway.
You opened your mouth to make your usual mean comment about him but suddenly stop. You pressed your lips together. Because you realized that the annoying part was… She wasn’t wrong.
You didn’t say anything, but your expression shifted just slightly, something small and involuntary, and she caught it immediately.
“…What?,” she narrowed her eyes.
“I’m choosing peace,” you said. “I’m not fighting anymore.”
“That’s suspicious.”
“It’s giving up.”
“That’s even more suspicious.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the bed. “Can we not do this right now? I just woke up, I have a head injury, and you’re being loud.”
“You don’t have a head injury, you walked into a pole.”
“That’s still an injury.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, a voice echoed from down the hall.
“Breakfast!”
Both of you look at each other.
“We should go before she comes here,” your sister said quickly.
“Agreed.”
You followed her out of the room, still half asleep, your body moving on autopilot as you made your way to the kitchen, the smell of food waking you up just enough to function. You barely had time to enter the living room and your sister was already reaching for the remote, turning on the TV like it was part of her morning routine. Hearing news for breakfast.
You didn’t pay attention at first, too focused on what would be for breakfast, but then—
“Oh my God.”
You looked up. She was frozen, staring at the screen.
“What?” you asked, frowning.
You followed her gaze and immediately felt your stomach drop.
On the screen, a reporter stood in front of a building you recognized instantly, the HYBE logo visible behind them as she spoke animatedly, a headline flashing across the bottom.
“…last night after the event, member of global group BTS, Jungkook, was reportedly seen leaving the after-party accompanied by an unidentified girl…”
You froze for a second.
“What?” your sister said, grabbing the remote and turning up the volume.
“…sources claim the two exited together and got into the same vehicle, sparking speculation among fans…”
“That’s insane,” you said quickly, reaching for the remote. “This is obviously fake. Turn it off.”
“What are you doing?” she pulled it away from you. “Wait. I want to listen!”
“It’s not real,” you insisted, trying to grab it again. “They literally make things up all the time—”
“Let me hear!”
“Give it—”
You both struggled for the remote, hands pushing, pulling, then falling into the sofa while the volume going up and down randomly as the reporter kept talking in the background.
“Girls,” your great grandmother’s voice cut through the chaos. You both froze. She stood next to the doorway, arms crossed, looking at the two of you like she’d seen this exact scene a hundred times before. “Sit,” she said simply. “And eat.”
You slowly let go of the remote. Your sister did the same, though much more reluctantly, her eyes still glued to the screen like it might disappear if she looked away too long.
“What’s wrong with you?,” she whispered
“What do you mean?”
“You’re acting weird.”
You huffed and walked to the kitchen. “No, I’m not,” you muttered.
You didn’t look at the TV again.
——————————
The next three days passed in a way that almost made you forget you were soon to be over with your little break.
Almost.
Your sister, surprisingly and suspiciously, kept her promise. No random BTS facts, no sudden “did you know—” interruptions, no videos shoved in your face at full volume. It was quiet. Peaceful, even. Which should have felt like a victory, but instead felt more like the calm before something very specific and very annoying.
Still, you didn’t question it. You enjoyed it as much as you could.
You spent those days the way you were supposed to, like a normal family visit. Long lunches that stretched into late afternoons, your great-grandmother telling stories you were only half listening to but still somehow enjoying, your parents relaxing in a way you didn’t usually see back home. You walked around the neighborhood, helped in the kitchen once or twice (badly), and even let your sister drag you out at night to some club, which turned into one of those chaotic, slightly messy outings where you both ended up too drunk and with new friends. It was… nice. Fun. Something you had been wanting to do for so long with her that actually didn’t feel real.
Which was exactly why you didn’t notice what she was doing.
At least, not at first. It started small, with casual mentions, perfectly timed, almost strategic.
“Busan is really pretty this time of year,” she had said at breakfast one morning, not even looking up from her phone.
No one reacted.
Later that day, while your great-grandmother was sitting in the living room, she brought it up again. “Didn’t you say you had a friend there? Near the beach?”
That got a reaction. Your great-grandmother looked up, thoughtful, and just like that, your sister had her opening.
By the second day, it wasn’t subtle anymore.
“Have we ever been there? I don’t remember,” she added over dinner, sighing dramatically. “It would be so nice to go, even just for the weekend.”
You glanced at her. She didn’t look back. You narrowed your eyes slightly.
Oh, she was working.
And she was good at it.
Your parents, on the other hand, were not convinced. You could see it in the way they exchanged looks, in the hesitant answers, in the classic “we’ll think about it” that really meant probably not. It should’ve ended there.
But then your great-grandmother stepped in.
“Well,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t been listening to the entire thing unfold, “there’s no harm in a short trip. They’re not children.” Your sister didn’t even try to hide the way she straightened slightly, like she’d just won something. “They’ll be fine,” your great-grandmother continued. “And I can call my friend, she still has that cabin near the beach. It’s small, but perfect for a couple of days.”
Your parents hesitated. Your sister held her breath and then the decision was final.
“Okay,” your mom said, slowly. “But you both be careful.”
That was it. That was all it took.
You didn’t even have time to process it before your sister turned to you, eyes practically shining. “We’re going to Busan.”
You stared at her. “We… we?”
“Yes, we.”
You leaned back in your chair slightly, crossing your arms. “You didn’t even ask me before this.”
“I’m asking you now.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It is when the answer is obviously yes.”
You scoffed. “You’re very confident.”
“It’s a beach trip,” she said. “Cabin, ocean, weekend away from everything. You’re not saying no to that.”
You opened your mouth to argue and immediately paused. She wasn’t wrong. How could you say not to that?
“Fine,” you muttered. “But I’m not driving.”
“I am driving,” she said immediately and obviously. “You don’t even have a license here.”
“Oh, right.”
She grinned. And just like that, the weekend was decided.
Friday morning came too early.
You were barely awake when she dragged you out of bed, already dressed, already moving, already running on a level of energy that should not exist before sunrise. You, on the other hand, moved like someone who had been personally wronged by the concept of mornings, throwing clothes into a bag half-blind and hoping for the best.
“You’re taking forever,” she complained from the doorway.
“I’m functioning at the speed of my will to live,” you muttered, zipping your bag.
“Hurry the fuck up!.”
“Let me be.”
The car was packed quickly and before you fully registered what was happening, you were on the road, the early morning quiet stretching out in front of you. Your sister took the driver’s seat like she was ready to get there as fast as she could, hands steady on the wheel, music playing softly in the background.
The first hour was quiet. The second less so. By the third, you had stopped twice, once for coffee, once because she insisted she was “getting bored” and needed a break, which made no sense considering she was the one driving.
“You’re the one who wanted this trip,” you pointed out, leaning against the car as she stretched dramatically.
“I still do,” she said. “I just don’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”
“You’ve had three coffees.”
“That’s barely anything.”
“That’s concerning.”
She ignored you.
The rest of the drive blurred together, long stretches of road, occasional conversations that started and died without much effort, music playing, silence filling the gaps in a way that didn’t feel awkward. At some point, you rested your head against the window, watching the scenery change slowly, the air shifting, the feeling of the city fading the further you got.
By the time you arrived, you felt it
That difference of weather and vibe.
The cabin was exactly what your great-grandmother had promised. Small, simple, but beautiful in a quiet, effortless way. It sat a little away from everything, surrounded by greenery, the sound of the ocean faint but present in the distance.
An older woman greeted you at the door, her smile warm and familiar in a way that made it clear she already knew exactly who you were. “You must be her granddaughters,” she said, stepping aside to let you in. “She told me you might come.”
Your sister immediately switched into polite mode, smiling brightly, introducing both of you like she hadn’t spent the last five hours complaining about the drive. You followed along, quieter, taking in the space, the details, the way everything felt lived in, cared for.
It didn’t take long before you were settled. Bags dropped, shoes off, windows opened.
“We should go to the beach,” your sister said, already halfway out the door again.
“We just got here.”
“Exactly. Perfect timing.”
You stared at her and she stared back.
“…You’re not going to sit down, are you?”
“No.”
You sighed. “Give me five minutes.”
——————————
The beach wasn’t far.
A short drive, a small parking area, barely any people around. It was quieter than you expected, the kind of place that didn’t attract crowds, just a few scattered figures in the distance, the sound of waves steady and constant. Summer wasn’t yet there so the place wasn’t crowded at all.
You stepped out of the car, stretching slightly, taking in the view, the air different there, cleaner, lighter.
“Okay,” you admitted. “This is nice.”
“I told you,” she said, already grabbing her bag.
You walked a few steps forward, eyes on the water, the horizon stretching out endlessly, and for a second, everything felt exactly like it was supposed to.
Peaceful, simple…
“Wait.”
You paused. Something in your sister’s tone made you turn. You knew that specific tone, the one she used for them. She was looking at her phone. Not just looking, staring.
“What?” you asked slowly, already regretting it. She didn’t answer immediately which was your first warning. “…What?” you repeated, sharper this time. She looked up. And the expression on her face…
“Oh my God,” she said.
You blinked. “No.” She turned the screen toward you. “No,” you repeated, already feeling the irritation creeping up before you even saw it.
“I knew it,” she said, like she had just proven something. “I knew it.”
You looked. And there it was, some random article, headline bold and unnecessary, talking about how Jungkook had been spotted in Busan, taking a short break with friends before his tour, photos blurry but enough to make it believable, enough to make it real.
You stared at the screen deadpan and then at her. “You’re kidding.”
“I didn’t know for sure!” she said quickly, already defensive. “I just saw something about it and thought— what if— and then the cabin thing and—”
“You planned this.”
“I didn’t plan it,” she insisted. “I just… aligned circumstances.”
You let out a short, disbelieving laugh, dragging a hand down your face. “Aligned circumstances.”
“Yes.”
“You dragged me four hours away because of a maybe.”
“It’s not a maybe anymore.”
“That’s not the point!”
She frowned. “Why are you so mad?”
“Because you lied.”
“I didn’t lie!”
“You just conveniently left out a very important detail.”
“I didn’t think it mattered!”
“You didn’t think it mattered that the entire reason you wanted to come here was because of a guy?”
She hesitated. “…When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”
“Because it is bad.”
You stepped away slightly, shaking your head, frustration settling in properly now, heavier, sharper, cutting through whatever calm the place had given you just minutes before.
“I thought you actually wanted to spend time together,” you said.
“I do!” she said quickly. “I do, that’s not— this is just—”
“This is exactly what I didn’t want,” you cut in.
Silence fell between you. The waves kept moving. The air stayed the same. But the moment shifted completely.
You stood there in the parking lot, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring anywhere but at her, the irritation sitting firmly in your chest now, impossible to ignore. And just like that the trip didn’t feel so peaceful or yours anymore.
She didn’t look as guilty as she should have. That was the problem. Instead of apologizing, or at least pretending to understand why you were annoyed, your sister just let out a small sigh, like you were the one making things unnecessarily complicated, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other before gesturing vaguely toward the beach like that alone should fix everything.
“Okay, but we’re already here,” she said, tone softening just enough to sound reasonable, which somehow made you angrier. “So can we not waste the whole day being mad? Just… enjoy it… Please?”
You stared at her for a minute. Not because you didn’t hear her, but because you did, and that made it more irritating. There was something about the way she said it— so casual, so quick to move on, that made it feel like your reaction didn’t really matter, like this was already over for her while you were still standing there, stuck in it.
“Right,” you said flatly. “Because that’s how that works.”
She frowned slightly. “I’m not saying you can’t be mad, I’m just saying—”
“No, you’re saying we should just pretend you didn’t drag me here for that,” you cut in, nodding toward her phone still in her hand. “And go sit on the beach like this is some random, normal trip.”
“It is a normal trip,” she insisted. “We came here together. We’re staying in that cute cabin, we have the whole weekend… Why are you acting like that it’s a bad plan?”
You let out a short breath through your nose, looking away for a second, because arguing in circles with her was exhausting in a very specific way. “Because that’s not why you planned it,” you muttered. “You just used me to see if you could meet this guy who doesn’t even know about your existence.”
“Well… It’s part of why,” she corrected, stepping a little closer. “Not all of it.”
You didn’t answer. Her honesty was also more irritating
A beat passed, the tension sitting there, heavy but not explosive, and then she exhaled, clearly deciding she wasn’t going to win this right now. “I’m going to the beach,” she said, grabbing her bag again before giving you the car keys. “You can stay here or in the car and be dramatic or you can come and enjoy this beautiful sunny day with me. Your choice. It’s still our trip… just with other outcomes.”
You watched her for a second as she turned and started walking toward the sand without waiting for your answer, her steps quick, purposeful, like she was physically removing herself from the conversation.
You didn’t follow immediately.
Instead, you stayed where you were, putting the keys in your pocket, shoulders slightly tense, letting out a slow breath as you looked out toward the water, the sound of the waves steady and grounding in a way that forced your thoughts to slow down whether you wanted them to or not. The beach was still quiet, only a few people scattered around, some sitting, some walking along the shore, nothing loud, nothing overwhelming.
You stood there longer than you planned to. Long enough for the initial irritation to settle into something less sharp, less immediate, even if it didn’t disappear completely.
“Bitch,” you muttered to yourself finally, dragging a hand through your hair.
You could admit, the place was too beautiful to be mad. So you could pretend for a few hours you didn’t want to beat the shit out of your sister.
You started walking toward the beach, slower than your sister had, your gaze drifting without much focus until something, someone, caught your attention. A group of guys, a little farther from the rest of the people, not close enough to draw attention but not completely isolated either, their voices faint, carried slightly by the wind. You didn’t think much of it at first, just another group, nothing special, but then…
You froze slightly. Because one of them had a hat you recognize immediately. A pink hat.
Your pink hat.
You stared for a second longer, squinting slightly like that might somehow make more sense of it, and then a small, disbelieving laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.
There was no way.
No, it seemed it was. There was a way.
You shook your head lightly, almost amused, almost annoyed again, but in a different way now, something sharper, more specific, and started walking again, this time toward your sister, who had already claimed a spot on the sand and was in the process of setting everything up like she hadn’t just caused a minor argument ten minutes ago.
You dropped your bag next to her without a word, letting it fall into the sand as you sat down, brushing your hands together absentmindedly.
She glanced at you briefly. “So you decided to join me in this relaxing place?.”
“I decided I didn’t feel like standing in a parking lot all day.”
“I’ll take it.”
You didn’t respond, just leaned back slightly, watching her as she immediately reached for her headphones, slipping them on like she was entering her own separate world, scrolling through her phone, adjusting angles, already taking pictures of the beach, of herself, of everything.
You let your gaze drift again, slower this time, more intentional, until it landed back on the group.
They weren’t there anymore, well most of them. Because now, almost all of them were in the water, voices louder, movements easier to follow as they swam further out, leaving only one person behind, stretched out on the sand, hat still on, pulled low enough to cover most of his face.
You stared for a second. Then another. And then, before you could overthink it you stood up.
Your sister didn’t even notice. You brushed the sand off your hands, grabbed your bag and walked past a couple of scattered towels, your steps casual enough not to draw attention but direct enough that you didn’t lose momentum, your focus fixed on the figure lying there, unmoving.
Up close, it was even more obvious. Same hat, same tattoos, same moles.
You stopped right next to him, looking down for a second, watching the way he very clearly try to not react, which only made it more obvious that he was pretending to be asleep.
You tilted your head slightly. “…Is this seat taken?” you asked casually, already lowering yourself onto the sand beside him without waiting for an answer. “Because if it is, that’s really unfortunate.” No response. You glanced at him, then out at the water. “Wow,” you continued, resting your hands behind you. “What a beautiful day, huh? Beach, sun, people minding their business… very peaceful.” Still nothing. “…Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, he gave you a slight shrug. “Oh— wait, no, you’re definitely awake.” He shifted. You smiled slightly. “Since you’re awake,” you went on, completely unbothered, “maybe you can help me with something. I can’t reach my back properly and I really need to put some sunscreen on, maybe you can give me a hand?”
He moved his hand, pushing the brim of the hat up just enough to reveal his eyes and then he looked at you. Recognition hit immediately, his shoulders relaxed immediately and he let out a small huffed laugh.
“How did you know it was me?” Jungkook asked, his voice low.
You shrugged, like it was obvious. “The hat.”
He blinked once, then let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, dropping his hand back against his chest. “Of course it was the hat.”
“I mean, you could’ve at least tried a different disguise,” you said. “This is just lazy.”
“I wasn’t trying to disguise myself.”
“Right. You just happened to wear the same very recognizable hat in public.”
He tilted his head slightly toward you. “You’re the only one who knows about the hat.”
“Fair point.”
A small silence settled, not awkward, just normal.
You looked out at the water again. “…So,” you said after a second. “What are you doing in Busan?”
“Taking a break,” he answered simply. “A couple of days before things get busy again.”
Of course he wasn’t going to tell you his manager had sent him to have a little week off there after watching the news that he had been seen with a new girl and how the CEO of Se-seil didn’t like that at all. What a better way to stay out of the rumours than going on a low profile trip with some friends that weren’t girls and that couldn’t spark heteronormative rumours, right?
“With them?” you nodded slightly toward the group in the water.
“Yeah,” he pointed out. “The one who looks like he’s drowning is the one who you own ten thousand worth of shoes.”
You frowned immediately. “It was your fault I threw up so that’s on you.”
Jungkook smiled slightly. “Fair.”
You followed his gaze for a moment before speaking again. “This is weird,” you admitted.
“A little,” he glanced at you.
“Out of all the beaches.”
“I know.”
You glanced at him again. “My sister drove here because she saw an article about you probably taking time off here.”
“That’s commitment.”
“That’s stalking,” you corrected. “Do you know how annoying is the fact that she was actually right?”
He looked at you. “Does she know you met me?.”
“Are you insane?” you shook your head. “If I tell her I would never not hear about this.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I also don’t want to risk… my life,” he added, nodding vaguely, clearly referring to your sister being a little inane without saying it.
“Good call.”
“I figured.”
Another quiet stretch settled between you, the sound of the waves filling it naturally, neither of you rushing to say anything else.
It felt… normal. Weirdly. Too normal. And that, more than anything, was what made it feel a little unreal. He was a celebrity, probably nothing about him was normal or quiet like that.
Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment after that, like he was still adjusting to the fact that this was happening again— same girl, different place, somehow even less explainable than before— before he turned his head slightly toward you, resting it back against the sand.
“So,” he said after a beat, voice calmer now, almost casual. “How’s Busan treating you?”
You shrugged, dragging your fingers absently through the sand beside you. “It’s alright.”
There was a pause. Then he turned his head fully this time, looking at you like you had just personally offended him.
“Alright?”
You blinked. “Yeah?”
“Alright?” he repeated, sitting up slightly now, brows pulling together. “That’s what you’re going with?”
You frowned a little, caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. “What’s wrong with ‘alright’?”
“It’s my hometown,” he said, like that explained everything.
“Okay?”
“And you’re describing it as alright.”
You let out a small, incredulous laugh. “I’ve been here for like two hours.”
“That’s enough time to form a better opinion than that.”
“I saw a cabin and a parking lot,” you deadpanned. “I’m working with limited material.”
“And this beach!”
“Is just a beach.”
Jungkook stared at you for a second, then shook his head, pushing himself up fully now, brushing sand off his hands. “No, that’s not acceptable.”
You watched him, unimpressed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have written a full review already?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Minimum three paragraphs.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”
“You just haven’t seen the right places yet,” he continued, ignoring you completely. “You can’t judge it based on that.”
“I’m not judging it, I’m just… neutral.”
“That’s worse.”
“How is that worse?”
“Because it means you’re not paying attention.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “I’m literally paying attention right now.”
“Not enough,” he said, glancing around before pointing somewhere behind you. “See that?”
You turned your head, following his gaze.
A small stand, a little further up from the beach, near the parking spaces, simple but colorful, with a faded umbrella and a handwritten sign you couldn’t fully read from where you were.
“Ice cream?” you guessed.
He looked back at you, clearly pleased. “Exactly.
You raised an eyebrow. “That’s your argument?”
“That’s my starting point.” He stretched his hand to help you stand up.
You huffed softly, taking his hand before brushing the sand of your shorts. “This better be life-changing.”
“It is.”
“Don’t be so confident, your hopes are gonna crash out.”
“Nah, you’ll see.”
The walk wasn’t long, but it was slow, unhurried, the kind of pace that felt comfortable. You stayed a step behind him at first, then next to him, the conversation slipping back into something easy without either of you really noticing.
“You come here often?” you asked, glancing around.
“Not as much as I’d like,” he admitted. “But when I do, I come here.”
“To the ice cream stand?”
“To the area,” he corrected. “The ice cream is just part of it.”
“Important part, apparently.”
“Very important.”
You hummed, unconvinced but willing to play along, stopping when you reached the stand, the older man behind it greeting him with a familiarity that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Long time,” the man said with a small smile.
Jungkook nodded slightly. “Yeah. It’s been a while.” You glanced between them, then back at the menu, pretending not to notice anything while still very much noticing everything. It was clear the guy knew him, you wondered how much Jungkook trusted him to accept the fact that he was letting him know about you. A girl that could ruin his reputation if a picture was leaked. “What do you want?” he asked, turning to you.
“I don’t know,” you said, scanning the options. “Something that proves your point.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “That’s a lot of pressure for ice cream.”
“You said it was good.”
“It is good.”
“Then choose.”
He looked at you for a second, like he was trying to decide if you were serious. He decided to take it as a challenge.
“Okay,” he said finally, turning back to the man and ordering without asking again.
You leaned slightly against the side of the stand, watching as he paid, the whole thing oddly normal, like you weren’t standing there with someone whose face was always on the screen every time you turned on the TV.
He handed you one of the cones when they were ready. “Try it.”
You took it, eyeing it suspiciously for a second before taking a bite. You took a second too long to taste it.
“Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“That’s actually good.”
“I told you.”
You took another bite, slower this time. “Fine. I’ll upgrade it from ‘alright’ to… decent.”
“Decent?” he repeated, offended all over again. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“I’m not giving it ‘amazing’ on the first try.”
“It deserves amazing!”
“It doesn’t know me like that yet.”
He shook his head, but there was a small smile there now, something quieter, more relaxed.
You both stood there for a bit, eating, talking about nothing important, rating the ice cream like it was a serious discussion, arguing over textures and flavors like either of you had any knowledge on the subject.
“It’s too sweet,” you said at one point.
“It’s ice cream.”
“Yeah, but there’s levels.”
“This is a good level.”
“It’s a trying-too-hard level.”
“That’s a dumb argument, you are just being a hater.”
“I’m just giving you my point of view.”
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head again, like he knew about you already too much to know the fact that you were indeed just trying to argue. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe argue back but then a car passed by. You barely noticed it at first. Just another vehicle on the road, slow enough to stand out a little, but not enough to matter, until Jungkook suddenly stiffened beside you.
And then, without warning, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down with him, crouching low behind the side of the stand so fast you barely had time to react.
“What the—”
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he cursed under his breath. And just by that you knew what it was about. “How do they keep finding me?!” he whispered sharply, peeking just slightly over the edge before ducking back down.
You blinked, still processing.
“Dude,” you said, lowering your voice instinctively. “Even my sister can find you. And she’s doesn’t even live in this country.”
“That’s not helping.”
“I’m just saying.”
He ran a hand through his hair quickly, clearly thinking, clearly calculating, before glancing toward the direction of the beach.
“They probably saw the car too.”
“Then why are we still here?” you asked.
“Because if we move too fast, it’s obvious.”
You stared at him. “You literally just tackled me to the ground.”
“That was necessary.”
“Uh, right.”
He ignored that, looking around again before nodding slightly. “Do you have your keys?.”
“Are you joking?.”
“Do you?” he insisted, looking almost too anxious.
You hesitated for half a second, already regretting that you went out of your way to talk to him. “You still owe me,” you gave him your keys.
You both moved at the same time, staying low at first before straightening just enough to walk without drawing too much attention, your steps controlled, deliberate, like you were both pretending this was completely normal. You guide him to the ugly vintage purple car.
You reached the parking area quicker than expected, your car still where you left it, your sister nowhere in sight, still on the beach, thankfully oblivious.
“This is your car?” he made a grimaced, clearly not liking it.
“This is my grandma’s car,” you corrected. “And if you don’t like you can order a damn uber.”
“Fuck,” he crouched down again when the van passed behind the car. “Fuck, fuck. Just… shut up and get in!” he screamed in a whisper, already moving toward the driver’s side.
You went around to the passenger side, pulling the handle. Suddenly the door swung open from the inside at the exact same time you leaned in.
The edge hit your forehead, really hard.
“Ow!” You jerked back immediately, hand flying to the same spot you had injured days ago, eyes squeezing shut.
“Oh, shit— sorry,” he said quickly, half out of his seat now. “I didn’t— are you okay?”
You looked at him over the window. “You have to stop doing that,” you said, pressing your hand against your forehead.
“I didn’t see you,” he said quickly. “Just, sorry— get in, get in.”
“Okay, okay. I’m in.” You quickly did, closing the door much more cautiously than necessary.
“Seatbelt,” he said automatically, already starting the engine.
You gave him a look. “Seriously?”
“Just in case.” You rolled your eyes but put it on anyway. He grabbed his phone quickly, typing something fast, his expression focused again. “Texting them,” he muttered. “They need to know.”
“Your friends?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, glancing out the window instinctively, half-expecting that car to come back around. “Here,” he said suddenly, pulling off his sunglasses and handing them to you.
You looked at them, then at him. “Why?”
“So you don’t look like yourself.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works.”
“Just put them on.” He looked for something in the drawer. “Here,” he gave you a headscarf that was from your grandma.
“Are you—”
“Just put it on!”
You did, adjusting it over your face slightly as he put down the hat and his shirt, to cover more his face. He lower down more before finally pulling the car out, movements smooth but noticeably more careful now, his posture slightly lower, like he was trying to make himself less visible without making it obvious.
The car moved slowly at first. Too slowly.
“You’re driving like my grandmother,” you said.
“They’re behind us, get lower.”
“You’re being suspicious!”
He exhaled, then pressed a little more on the accelerator, the car picking up speed just enough to feel normal, just enough to blend in. You leaned back slightly in your seat, your hand still resting lightly against your forehead, the sunglasses slipping down your nose a little as you glanced at him.
“This is insane,” you muttered.
He huffed quietly. “You’re telling me.”
The car didn’t slow down immediately after leaving the beach.
Jungkook kept driving around, doing circles more than necessary, turning once, then again, like he was making sure you weren’t being followed, like the tension hadn’t fully left his body yet even if the immediate danger had. You stayed quiet at first, leaning back in the seat, the sunglasses and scarf still on your face. After a couple of minutes he left the beach, you stayed watching the road stretch ahead through the tinted lenses while the sound of the ocean faded further and further behind you.
You both shared a look and you finally let out a small laugh.
It came out under your breath at first, like you didn’t mean to, but once it started, it didn’t really stop. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, then back at the road, a quiet exhale leaving him that sounded dangerously close to a laugh too.
“What?” he asked, even though he clearly already knew.
You shook your head slightly, taking off the headscarf and adjusting the sunglasses on your face. “Nothing. This is just—” you let out another breath, smiling despite yourself, “this is actually insane.”
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “I know.”
There was a short pause, but it didn’t sit heavy. If anything, it felt lighter than anything that had happened so far, like something had shifted without either of you really noticing. The adrenaline from earlier hadn’t completely worn off, but it had softened into something lighter now, something almost ridiculous in hindsight, and it didn’t take long before that feeling slipped into something else entirely.
He reached his hand out slightly toward you without looking. “I need my sunglasses back.”
“Do you?” You turned your head toward him slowly.
“Yes.”
You adjusted them again, pushing them up your nose slightly, taking your time before answering. “I don’t know, man” you said casually. “I kind of like them.”
He let out a small breath that turned into a quiet laugh. “I’ll give them to you later.”
You gasped softly, sitting up a little straighter. “Oh, for real?” you said, suddenly overly serious. “Because my friends are never going to believe this. Like— ‘oh yeah, I have sunglasses from BTS Jungkook, given to me personally by Jungkook himself’— they’re going to think I’m lying.” He looked at you again, already shaking his head. “Can you autograph them too?” you added, completely exaggerated enthusiasm. “Please, please, please.”
He snorted, before sarcastically adding: “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
“I’m serious,” you insisted. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“Give me the sunglasses.”
You smiled slightly, dragging it out for another second before finally pulling them off your face and handing them to him. He took them back immediately, like he didn’t trust you not to change your mind, slipping them on without another word.
The car fell quiet again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. It wasn’t tense or uncertain, it was easy now, like whatever awkwardness had been there earlier had burned off somewhere between the beach and the road. You shifted slightly in your seat, resting your elbow against the window.
“…So,” you said after a moment, glancing at him. “How long do I have to ride with you now?”
He didn’t look at you this time, just kept his eyes on the road. “Until the paparazzi leave the beach.”
You blinked. “That’s not very specific.”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
You exhaled slowly. “Great. Love that.”
He let out a quiet breath through his nose, then tapped the wheel lightly, like he was thinking.
“Okay,” he said after a second, a little smirk growing in his face. “Come on. Let’s do something.”
You turned your head toward him. “Like what?”
Jungkook shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. Something that isn’t driving around and waiting.”
“That sounds vague.”
“It’s a starting point.”
You narrowed your eyes a little. “What do you even suggest?”
He glanced at you briefly before looking back at the road. “Well… what have you seen since you got here?”
“In Busan?”. You stared at him for a second, then let out a small breath. “I told you. Nothing.”
He frowned slightly. “Really nothing?”
“Nop, I was too busy following you around.”
The second the words left your mouth, you saw the exact moment it registered in his head. He blinked, a weird little smile growing in his face, like it was a compliment coming from you. “Really?.”
You turned your head slightly toward him, completely unfazed. “My sister,” you clarified. “She’s obsessed with you. So I’ve been dragged into that.”
He stared at you for a second longer than necessary, something like confusion mixed with disbelief crossing his face. “Oh.”
You nodded once. “Yeah. She idolized you. She’s so obsessed with you. Me on the other hand couldn’t care less about you… or this city.”
He huffed quietly, still processing the fact that you weren’t into him despise having a fan army as your sister. Although the last comment got a reaction. He straightened slightly in his seat, shaking his head almost immediately. “Okay, hey—” You raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t like me,” he continued, glancing at you again, “but don’t take it out on Busan.”
“I’m not taking anything out on Busan,” you said.
“You called it ‘alright.’”
“Because it is.”
He scoffed softly. “No, it’s not.”
“It is.”
“It’s one of the greatest cities in the world.”
You stared at him. “That’s a bold statement.”
“It’s a true statement.”
“According to who?”
“Me.”
“That’s not a reliable source.”
“It is when I’m right. I was born here.”
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Now that makes more sense. You’re very confident.”
“I have a reason to be.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
He glanced at you again, something more playful settling into his expression now. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll prove it.”
You frowned slightly. “Prove what?”
“That it’s not ‘alright.’ And that you should care about this city.”
You leaned back again, crossing your arms loosely. “How are you planning to do that?”
He shrugged, like it was obvious. “I’ll show you. I’ll be your tour guide.”
You stared at him for a second, genuinely caught off guard this time.
“I thought you needed to hide?”
“I do.”
“And this doesn’t go against that?”
He shook his head slightly. “I can do both.”
“This sounds like a terrible plan, Jungkook.”
Jungkook realized that was the second time you addressed him by his name. The first one was the night he slept on your floor, but you were already too sleepy to notice how much he enjoyed the way his name sounded in your mouth. He weirdly liked the way you said his name. Like you were starting to like him enough to address him by name.
“It’s a great plan.” You huffed softly, looking out the window for a second, considering it, even though you didn’t want to admit you were. He glanced at you again, a small, knowing look there now. “Hey, trust me. This will be the city of your dreams.”
“Okay,” you said after a moment, quieter now. “But you’re paying for everything.”
“Well, duh.” He nodded once, like that settled it completely.
“Great.” You shrugged. “Let’s see what Busan is about then.”
Jungkook smiled at you. Clearly excited to be the one to introduce someone his hometown.
He reached forward and turned on the radio, ready to set the mood with more enthusiasm. Music filled the car almost immediately. You didn’t react at first, just let it play in the background, your attention drifting, until you realized it was his song.
“Are you serious?” you slowly turned your head toward him.
“Come one. I know you know the words.” He turned the volume up, showing you that bunny smile before signing.
You laughed, music getting louder.
Baby, oh, please
세상이 우릴 갈라놓을 때 (Yeah, yeah)
Baby, oh, please (Oh, please)
한 걸음 더 다가설게 (더 다가설게)
For the first time ever you were belting a song of BTS… with no one else than Jeon Jungkook himself.
——————————
The city started unfolding around you properly after some minutes driving, not just streets and turns but actual places, names he pointed out casually like he knew you should know, like you were supposed to recognize them, and when you didn’t, he just shook his head like that proved his point, explaining the story and the importance of every little things Busan had to show you.
For someone who didn’t spent that much time there— even if he was born in that place— Jungkook was very proud and knew a lot of the town’s history.
“Okay, first stop,” he said, slowing down slightly before turning. “This one is very important.”
“You’ve said that about everything so far,” you replied, leaning your head against the window, watching the buildings shift around you.
“Well, it’s not my fault everything has been so important.”
“I think you’re biased because you were born here.”
“Well yes, but also you’ll see I’m right.”
You didn’t argue, just followed him out of the car when he parked, you watched him adjust the little hat you gave him you without thinking too much about it, his routine already starting to feel normal— hat, glasses, quick glance around, move. You rolled your eyes annoyed, no one was looking, but you decided not to look for another argument.
You even barely had time to ask where you were before he gestured forward.
“Gamcheon.”
You blinked, looking up. And then you took a second to look around. It was completely different from what you were imagining.
The houses weren’t just houses, they were stacked, layered, spilling down the hill in colors that didn’t feel real at first glance— blue, yellow, pink, green— like someone had painted the entire place just to show colours existed, narrow streets weaving between them, stairs going up and down in directions that didn’t make sense but somehow worked anyway.
“Okay,” you said slowly, taking a step forward without realizing. “This is not ‘alright.’”
“I know,” he said immediately, already watching your reaction instead of the view.
You turned your head toward him. “You’ve been holding out.”
“I told you.”
“You did not explain this.”
“I didn’t need to.”
You looked back at the view, squinting slightly like it might disappear if you stared too long. “This looks fake.”
“Because it’s beautiful?.”
“It looks like a movie set.”
“Better than that.” You huffed quietly, but you were already pulling your phone out before he stopped you halfway. “Wait, I’ll get you a better one.”
“What do you—”
You watched him run to a small open shop near the view where some tourist were buying stuff. He came back quickly with an instant camera. He didn’t even hesitate, already pulling it out of the package like he had been waiting or you to ask him for a picture.
“Stand there,” he said, pointing toward a spot with the houses behind you.
“Really?” you muttered, but you moved anyway, adjusting your stance slightly, trying not to look like you were posing even though you clearly were.
“Stop moving,” he added.
“I’m not moving.”
“You’re moving.”
“I’m adjusting to the camera.”
“Stop adjusting.”
You gave him a look. He took the picture anyway. The flash went off, and you blinked, already stepping closer to grab it from him.
“When I develop those it will take so long. I’m taking pictures with my phone too.”
“I’ll be worth,” he argued. “And when you see them you’ll be like— ‘Oh, I remember that. It was the best day of my life. Seeing Busan with Jungkook. Oh, now I miss him… Should I text him?”
You watched him with a dead face for an entire minute before grabbing the camera.
“Let’s go before you start getting weirder.”
“Let’s go? Babe, this is just getting started.”
Oh, no.
After that, the trip didn’t slow down. If anything, it sped up. Because once you left Gamcheon, he didn’t give you time to fully settle before dragging you into the next place, and then the next, and then the next… like he had decided he was going to prove his point in one day and wasn’t going to stop until you admitted it properly.
“Where are we now?” you asked at one point, slightly out of breath as you tried to keep up with him.
“Jagalchi,” he answered.
“That doesn’t help me.”
“It’s the biggest seafood market here.”
You stopped walking. “…Absolutely not.”
He turned back to you, confused. “What?”
“I’m not going into a seafood market.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to smell like fish for the rest of the day.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
He stared at you for a second, then sighed. “Five minutes.”
“Two.”
“Five.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
You narrowed your eyes. “…Fine. Four.”
He smiled slightly. “See? You’re learning.”
“I hate this.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
You did go in. And you complained the entire time. And he laughed the entire time.
And somehow you still ended up taking a picture there too, half-laughing, half-disgusted, pointing at something you refused to get closer to while he stood next to you like it was completely normal Jeon Jungkook was taking pictures of you in a fish market.
The beach came next.
A different one this time, wider, busier, but still open enough that you didn’t feel trapped in it, the kind of place that actually looked like the pictures people posted, with the skyline stretching behind it and the water catching the light in a way that made everything feel brighter.
“Haeundae,” he said.
You looked around, taking it in properly this time. “Okay,” you admitted slowly. “This one’s good too.”
“‘Good’?” he repeated.
“I’m upgrading slowly.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Don’t push me. I’m getting there.”
He shook his head, but he was smiling again, that same bunny one that kept showing up without warning.
You walked along the shore for a bit, not rushing, not really going anywhere specific, just… there, your shoes in your hands at some point without remembering when you took them off, the sand warm under your feet.
“This is where people come when they visit,” he said, snapping a picture of you and the se without you noticing.
“I can see why.”
“Finally!”
“Don’t get excited.”
“Too late.”
You bumped your shoulder lightly against his as you passed him, and he didn’t move away.
The day kept going like that.
Place after place, street after street, conversations overlapping with movement, with small jokes, with random comments that didn’t need answers, with moments that felt too normal for what it actually was. At some point you forgot you were technically hiding, forgot that this started because of paparazzi, forgot that you weren’t supposed to be here with him in the first place.
It just felt like a day. A really long, really full, slightly chaotic day.
At some point, you ended up sitting on a low wall with drinks in your hands, something cold, something sweet, something you didn’t ask for but still liked, and the camera came out again, this time without him asking.
“Give it,” you said, reaching for it.
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Give it to me.”
“Why?”
“I want one.”
He hesitated for half a second before handing it over. You held it up, pointing it at him.
“Don’t move.”
“I’m not moving.”
“You’re moving.”
“I’m not.”
“Stop talking.”
“You’re talking.” You rolled your eyes and took the picture anyway. The flash caught him mid-expression, not fully ready, you laughed knowing the picture would probably look bad when you developed it at “That’ll probably be a good one,” you said sarcastically.
“I didn’t approve it!”
“Okay, let me take another one,” you charged the camera again. “But smile like you’re having the best time of your life.”
He opened his mouth to say something, probably a sarcastic comment. But he didn’t. Because what you said wasn’t completely a lie. It wasn’t a bad day, it was actually a great one and he was enjoying it very much. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. So he smiled, wide and big. That cute big bunny smile that showed all his teeth and made his nose wrinkle.
And you smiled too, so contagious of his happiness before taking the picture.
Maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t so bad after all.
By the time the light started changing, softening, shifting into something warmer and about to announce the start of the afternoon, you were both slower, not because you were tired in a bad way, but because there was nothing left to rush toward.
You stood somewhere overlooking the water again, the city behind you now instead of around you, the air cooler than before.
You exhaled softly, arms loosely crossed. “Okay,” you said after a moment.
He glanced at you. “Okay?”
You looked at him briefly, then back out. “It’s so much more than ‘alright.’”
There was a small pause where he just looked at you. Then he nodded once, like that had been the goal all along.
“I know.”
——————————
The road back felt almost depressing.
The car was quiet and peaceful, it felt earned after a day like that, windows slightly down, the air softer now as the day slipped toward the afternoon, both of you quieter but not in a heavy way, just peaceful, like everything had finally slowed down enough for you to actually sit in it. The city had faded behind you again, the roads opening up, leading back toward the beach, toward where all of this had started, and for a moment it almost felt like it was wrapping up neatly, like you could just drop it there and walk away like it hadn’t been completely insane.
You leaned your head back against the seat, letting out a long breath.
“Okay,” you said after a moment, almost to yourself. “I’m not gonna lie.”
He glanced at you briefly, one hand steady on the wheel. “That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“You’re finally admitting I was right?”
“Don’t push it.”
He smiled slightly, looking back at the road. You looked out the window, watching the light hit the road in the distance again, softer now, warmer. “This was a really good day,” you admitted, quieter this time.
There was a small pause. “Yeah,” he said. “It was perfect.”
“It was a perfect day,” you admitted with a smile, like you were aware of how cliché it sounded but didn’t care enough to stop yourself.
And that was exactly when his posture shifted.
His hand tightened slightly on the wheel, his gaze flicking to the rearview mirror again, longer this time. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered.
You frowned, sitting up slightly. “What?”
He didn’t answer right away, just tilted his head slightly so you could see past him. You turned and there it was. That damn van.
You stared at it for half a second. “No way. Okay, no, this is actually insane.”
He exhaled sharply, already adjusting his grip on the wheel. “We need to lose them.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
You leaned forward slightly, looking ahead, then back, then ahead again, your brain catching up quickly now, adrenaline hitting just as fast as before but sharper this time. You grabbed your phone to see google maps.
“Turn right,” you said suddenly.
“What?”
“Turn right.”
“There’s nothing there.”
“I know, that’s the point.”
He hesitated for half a second then did it.
The car turned sharply off the main road, tires hitting a rougher path immediately, the smooth drive from before disappearing into something uneven, dry, quieter, the kind of road that didn’t feel like it led anywhere important. Dust kicked up behind you. The van followed.
“They’re still there,” he said, glancing back.
“I see them. Okay… keep going.”
“I am going.”
“Faster.”
“I’m not trying to flip the car.”
“I’m not asking you to flip it, just— don’t drive like an old man.”
He shot you a look, but pressed harder on the accelerator anyway, the car picking up speed, the road narrowing, curving slightly, trees starting to replace open space, the air changing again. You twisted slightly in your seat, watching the van struggle behind you.
“Okay, okay— wait. Keep going straight. No, left, left, left—”
“You just said straight.”
“I changed my mind. This looks like a better way to lose them.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s working, just listen to me.” He turned anyway. The road got tighter, rougher and more isolated. And just like that the van wasn’t behind anymore. “They’re gone,” you said, turning back fully this time.
He checked the mirror again. No one was behind you anymore. He let out a breath, slowing the car slightly. You leaned back, exhaling just as deeply. Silence fell for a second, both of you letting the moment settle, the adrenaline fading slower this time.
“Okay. That was good,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah, I told you.” He huffed quietly, something almost impressed in it. You put the name of the beach to show you the road back but quickly the app told you there was an error, taking you out of the app and making you lose track of where were you. “Uhm… Okay, this is not working. Wait, I need to figure out how to get back—”
“You don’t know where we are?” he asked, confused. “But google maps—”
“Yeah, well, it’s not working anymore...”
“Great. Good job.” He said sarcastically.
“I said I’d figure it out.”
He nodded slightly, glancing around as the road stretched ahead, less defined now, more dirt than anything else. You stared at your screen, frowning.
“Why does this not have signal?”
“Because we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’re not helpful.”
“Like you are?.”
You zoomed in, zoomed out, trying again to find the spot you two were. “Okay, I think if we go—” you paused. “Wait.”
“What?”
“I think we came from that side.”
“That’s not where we came from.”
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
“It’s definitely not, we came from there.” He pointed at the other direction.
“Can you just listen to me?” You let out a frustrated breath, already angry by his bratty behaviour as if minutes ago you weren’t trying to help him. “Just turn around.”
He rolled his eyes, already annoyed with your know-it-all behaviour. “Here?”
“Yes.”
“This doesn’t look like a place to turn around.”
“Just do it!” He sighed, but slowly started turning the wheel, the car shifting awkwardly on the uneven ground. “Careful,” you added.
“I am being careful.”
“You’re clearly not.”
“I’m literally going two kilometers per hour.”
“Well, you’re not the best driver.”
He shot you a look. “You want to drive?”
“I don’t have a license, idiot.”
“Yeah, I know why. You clearly don’t know how to drive or even use simple direction.”
“We wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t so paranoid by those vans following you. I was just trying to help you.”
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of us getting caught together. Do you know what could happen?”
“Let me guess, dating scandal. Big deal, just say we’re not dating and it’s over. I clearly don’t wanna date you.”
He looked offended. “And you think I wanna date you?.” He scoffed. “And that’s not how it works. The rumours would never stop and I can’t have any scandals right now… I told you— you wouldn’t understand—”
“Of course, because I’m not a superstar—”
“That is not—”
The car jerked slightly before stopping abruptly. You both went quiet for a second.
“…Move,” you said, irritated, thinking he was stopping to just infuriate you.
“I am.”
The engine revved, the car didn’t.
“Why are we not moving?”
“I don’t know.”
You turned your head slowly. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I’m pressing the gas and it’s not moving.”
You looked down slightly then out then back at him.
“We’re not moving.”
“I just said that.”
“Move the car!”
“I’m trying!”
The engine revved again and still nothing. You both went quiet for half a second longer than necessary.
“Jungkook,” you said slowly.
“Yeah.”
“I think we’re stuck.”
He exhaled sharply, looking around properly now. “Yeah. I think we are.” You pushed the door open slightly but he immediately stopped you. “Wait! Don’t move.”
“Why?”
“Because I think we’re sinking.”
“What?”
You looked down again, heart dropping slightly as he said: “This is not normal ground.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”
The car shifted just slightly. But enough to show you it was slowly sinking with both of you inside. You two started panicking.
“Okay, okay, get out,” he said quickly.
“Through where?!”
“The window!. Don’t open the door…”
You didn’t argue this time, saving your phone in your back pocket and trying not to panic more. You both moved fast, climbing awkwardly, the space suddenly feeling too small, too tight, the car tilting just enough to make everything worse.
“This is your fault,” you muttered, trying to steady yourself as you step on the window.
“My fault?!”
“You drove us here!”
“You told me to turn!”
“I didn’t tell you to sink the car!”
“How was I supposed to know that this was sand?!” The car shifted again. “Okay, less talking, more moving!” he said, climbing up toward the top, pushing himself out first. You followed right behind him, struggling slightly, your foot slipping for half a second before catching again. “Faster,” he said, reaching down slightly.
“I am going fast!”
“You’re not going fast enough!”
“I’m going to kill you!”
He leaned further, grabbing your arm. “Just give me your hand!”
“I have it— wait, oh no, my bag—” You reached back quickly, grabbing it before it slipped further down.
“Leave it!”
“No!”
“Leave it!”
“I’m not leaving it!.” You yanked it up, throwing it out onto the ground ahead of you.
“Okay, give me your hand—”
“Wait, my feet—”
He pulled your wrist, trying to get you to move fast which made you slip. Both of you fell forward straight into the moving samd. You landed hard, the ground shifting under you in a way that made your stomach drop immediately.
“Fuck!. Move, move—” he said quickly, grabbing your arm again to get you out of that watery mess.
“I’m trying!”
The sand wasn’t solid. It gave under your weight, pulling slightly, just enough to make every step harder than it should’ve been. You both scrambled forward, awkward, uncoordinated, pulling yourselves out inch by inch until the ground finally felt stable again. You collapsed onto it for a second, breathing harder than you wanted to admit. You both turned when the sand made a loud noise.
The car was still there, slowly sinking.
“…Oh my God,” you breathed. Neither of you moved. You just watched. The front dipped first, then the rest following, slower than expected but inevitable, like there was nothing either of you could do about it now. “I’m dead. I’m so dead. Fucking shit, I’m so dead.”
“I—”
“Wait. Shit— My phone,” you said suddenly, patting your pocket. You froze. “No.” You pulled it out quickly. The screen flickered before it went completely black. “No, no, no. Come on,” you pressed the button again. Nothing. You stared at it like it betrayed you. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He checked his too, same result. “Yeah. Mine’s gone too.”
You let out a sharp breath, standing up abruptly. “You killed my grandma’s car!”
“I didn’t kill it, it sank.”
“You were driving it.”
“You told me where to go!”
“I didn’t tell you to drive into quicksand!”
“Well it was!”
You ran a hand through your hair, turning in a circle like that might somehow fix anything. “You’re paying for all of this,” you added, pointing at him.
“I’m already paying for it,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at everything around you.
You gave him a hard look before turning around to walk away from him and back to the beach. You couldn’t believe he got you in a stupid position like that again. You shouldn’t have talked to him or even agreed to anything.
Jeon Jungkook was still the most annoying person you’ve ever met.
“Where are you going?” he called after you.
“To the beach!” you said, turning to look at him full of anger. “Where my sister is probably freaking out and now I have to explain everything to her!” He made a face before scratching the back of his head, a little conflicted. “What?!”
He pointed to the other direction. “I’m pretty sure is that way.”
You were going to kill him.
You felt the heat slowly creeping through your skin. Your jaw tightened and your fingers grabbed your bag a little harder. You didn’t say anything, just hit his shoulder with yours as you walked to the direction he pointed out. He didn’t say anything, following right behind you.
You couldn’t believe you were stuck with Jeon Jungkook… again.
After really getting into One Piece this past spring, I've been reading as much as tumblr and AO3 have offered me in terms of One Piece content. It's been hard to keep track of everything that I have read, however, certain stories/headcanons/posts linger in my mind and I thought I'd share them with you!
Minors DNI with fics marked as NSFW and for anyone, be sure to read the content warnings the authors have mentioned!
Hope y'all enjoy!
Updated: February 15, 2026
Killer
Childhood Crush by @analogwriting
does involve violent themes, please be sure to read content warnings for each chapter
Jealousy fueled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” by @grandline-fics
Ace, zoro, law, kid, lucci
sfw
Thinkin about: the monster, trio, ace ‘n law! Vs breeding kink! by @bitchimasnake-sss
luffy, zoro, sanji, ace, law
nsfw
Habits of touch by @clare-875
Zoro, sanji, luffy
sfw
Butterflies -- how they realize they have feelings for you (touch edition) with Luffy, Zoro, and Law by @radishaur
luffy, zoro, law
sfw
multiple versions! this one is just my favorite hehe
Miss Apothecary (Child!Apothecary vs The Roger Pirates) 16+ @gav-san
Cosmic Joke Masterlist by @gav-san ; this series is absolutely phenomenal, please go read but make sure to read all the content warnings!! My favorites were: Ace, Mihawk, Law and Sanji)
── .✦ Taehyung just wanted to make a good impression on his girlfriend’s son. Too bad the kid’s dad is literally the devil himself.
⊹ inspired by Little Evil [2017]
w.c : 11.1k
warnings: 18+ content, exes to lovers, sinister, supernatural and manipulative themes, strong language, mainly taes pov but switches to urs at the end, pet names, minimoni mention, wednesday is intense, a little bit of injury detail on wednesday but nothing too graphic, mentions of exorcism and religion, taehyung goes crazy and is alone, no litch i felt bad for him when writing :(, reader is in denial and unfair, bittersweet end, smut : just a makeout + grind sesh with tae, for jk we got kissing, use of his magical/physical abilities, so much dirty talk, spitting in mouth, hand on throat but not choking, tit play, breeding kink, mention of lactation kink, oral (both m and f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, mating press, multiple orgasms, squirting, jk has a big + demonic dick, cumming inside, aftercare.
The October air had that bite that meant Halloween was close, crisp, smoky from neighbourhood fireplaces, and full of the kind of quiet that comes with small towns.
Taehyung stood on the front porch with the handle of a small suitcase in one hand and a paper grocery sack in the other. The crinkled thing was brimming with bribes: chocolate chip cookies for the kid, small pumpkins for decorating, and a half-dozen candles that promised to make homes smell like “Autumn Comfort.”
He told himself this week was going to be easy. Seven days to get the kid used to him staying around, seven days to show he could fit in without tripping over invisible boundaries left by the past.
You met him by the door, cheeks flushed from the cold and a smile that tried to convince the both of them that this was perfectly normal.
“Hey,” you said. “You made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, and it was completely true. He’d never been the kind of man to scare off easily.
From the hallway came the rapid patter of small footsteps. Minjun appeared, pajama-clad and clutching a teddy bear that had definitely seen better days. He stopped just shy of Taehyung’s boots, blinking up at him with big, assessing eyes.
“Hi,” Taehyung tried, lowering the bag. “I brought cookies.”
The kid’s expression didn’t change, but he nodded once— formal, almost suspicious— before dashing back down the hall.
You sighed softly, facing Taehyung with an apologetic smile. “He’ll warm up. He just… takes time.”
“It’s okay,” Taehyung grinned. “We’ll figure it out.”
Inside, the house smelled like cinnamon and wax. Decorations were half hung paper ghosts in a corner of the living room, and a crooked ‘Happy Birthday’ banner waiting for the weekend above the electric fireplace. He set his bags near the couch and took in the details: two mugs on the counter, a third smaller one beside them; a family photo frame turned slightly towards the wall.
Before he could take a closer look, somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. strange, for a clear night. The lights flickered once, then steadied.
You frowned. “The power’s been doing that all week.”
Taehyung forced a smile. “Old wiring?”
“Probably,” you replied, but your voice held an uncertain edge of someone who wasn’t entirely sure.
The boy peeked around the corner again, eyes gleaming in the dim light. For a half a second, Taehyung thought he saw a shadow stretch oddly behind him, like a trick of the lamp— too tall, too sharp. Then it was gone.
“Everything okay?” You asked him.
He blinked, laughing it off. “Yeah, just settling in.”
Outside, the wind rose, rattling the wind chimes hanging on the porch. Somewhere unseen, a low chuckle brushed through the air, quiet enough that neither of them could tell if they’d imagined it.
Monday
Taehyung woke up to the smell of pancakes and the faint sound of cartoons from the living room. For a moment, it almost felt normal— until he realised his phone said 6:13 a.m.
He padded down the hallway in borrowed sweatpants, hair sticking up, trying to look more awake than he felt. The house was half-lit by the pale orange of sunrise, and there were you, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand.
“Morning, baby,” you said over your shoulder. “You’re up early.”
“I smelt food.” Taehyung grins, leaning against the doorway.
You smiled, handing him a plate before nodding in the direction of the living room. “He’s in there,” you sighed. “Apparently Saturday morning cartoons wait for no one.”
The ‘he’ in question sat cross-legged in front of the television, body perfectly still except for his eyes which flicked from screen to screen. Taehyung noticed that every cartoon channel seemed to be playing the same black and white rerun about a family of ghosts.
He tried for a casual “Morning buddy.”
Minjun didn’t turn around. “Morning.”
“What’s this? No superhero shows today?”
“Dad likes this one.” The boy stated.
Taehyung hesitated, pancake halfway to his mouth. “Your… dad?”
The kid nodded slowly, eyes fixated on the screen. “He says it’s a classic.”
You poke your head in from the kitchen. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just discussing cartoons.” Taehyung hummed quickly.
He ate in silence for a while, trying not to read too much into it. Little kids mentioned their father all the time, this was normal. He’s not going to be the kind of guy that flinches at a name.
He went to rinse his plate, turning the hot water faucet handle up all the way yet the water stayed cold. He brushed it off, blaming it on faulty pipes or something.
The radio on the counter buzzed to life, though no one had touched it. A scratchy male voice slipped through the static, almost sing-song.
“Can’t wait for the party.”
The kitchen light flickered once then settled again.
Taehyung furrowed his brows, looking over to where you were sitting at the kitchen counter. “Did you—“
“Probably just the station,” you said, forcing a smile. “Old wiring, again.”
The boy giggled from the living room, as if he’d heard a joke no one else did.
-
By nine-thirty, Taehyung was wedged in traffic. One hand gripping the steering wheel, the other holding a travel mug that had gone cold ten minutes ago. He worked for a small landscape architecture firm on the edge of town— mostly schools, parks, and the occasional backyard renovation when business was slow. The job wasn’t glamorous by any means, but it paid well enough, and he liked the way a plan could come together on paper.
At the office, his co-workers were already half-checked-out for the week. The break room smelled like burnt coffee and artificial pumpkin spice.
“Big week, huh?” Hoseok said, leaning against the counter with a grin. “How’s the new family situation?”
Taehyung dropped his bag by the table. “So far, no one has bitten me so that’s progress.”
“You sound terrified.”
“I’m cautious.”
He didn’t mention the radio or the faucet, or even the way Minjun’s eyes seemed to follow him, too calm for a kid his age. That wasn’t something you brought up between spreadsheets and soiled samples.
By mid morning he was sketching out a playground design, pencil moving in careful lines. For a while, his work absorbed him. That is until the pencil snapped in half under his fingers.
He frowned, reaching for another one just as a cold draft settled on the back of his neck, even though the windows were sealed. On the paper, one of his neatly drawn tree shapes had smeared, the graphite resembling something closer to a grin than a canopy.
He stared, then blinked. When he looked again, it was just a smudge.
“Man, you look pale,” Hoseok winced as he stopped by. “You okay?”
“Didn’t sleep much.”
“Too many horror movies?”
“Something like that.”
When lunchtime rolled around, his phone buzzed with a text from you.
| I’m excited you’re coming home early. We have a surprise for you.
Taehyung smiled despite himself. “Good,” he thought. Maybe this is how you build bonds, through little surprises.
He switched off his phone and got back to work, ignoring the churning deep in his gut.
-
By the evening, the house looked like Autumn had exploded inside of it.
Orange streamers drooped from every doorway, half-finished craft projects were splayed out on the coffee table with a box of costume pieces open on the floor. Minjun sat in the middle of it all, sorting through vampire fangs and glow-in-the-dark spiders with solemn concentration.
Taehyung crouched beside him, holding up a small witch’s hat. “How about this for the top of the cake?”
Minjun blinked at him. “I’m not a witch.”
“Right,” Taehyung replied, still smiling, “What are you this year again?”
The boy’s eyes brightened. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see.”
You call out from the kitchen. “We’re doing the party on the thirtieth, remember? So people aren’t trick-or-treating on his real birthday.”
“Got it,” Taehyung said. “Day before Halloween. Big practice run.”
Minjun looked up from his pile of decorations. “It’s not practice. It’s a celebration.”
The seriousness in his tone made Taehyung pause. “Right. Celebration.”
He helped hand paper bats over the living room window. Every time he stepped onto the small stool, he could’ve sworn the bats had shifted closer together, almost as if they preferred each other’s company. Once, when he turned away to grab tape, one of the purple cutouts gave a faint flutter, as though a breeze had found it. All the windows were shut.
In the kitchen, you were testing frosting colours. “Do you think he’ll like orange or black icing better?”
“Both,” Taehyung said. “Half and Half.”
A spoon clattered behind them on the counter, even though no one had been near it. You frowned but shrugged, licking icing from your thumb, “Guess the house wants to help.”
Minjun giggled quietly.
Later into the night, the decorations were complete, and the three of them sat on the couch surrounded by bits of glitter and tissue paper. You leaned your head on Taehyung’s shoulder with a sigh, tired but smiling. The television murmured slowly in the background; some cheerful Halloween special about friendly skeletons.
Taehyung basked in the warmth of the moment, the normalcy, and let out a slow breath. Maybe the week would turn out fine after all.
-
When the house was finally dark, toys lay scattered around Minjun’s room: tiny action figures sprawled out in a crooked circle, the teddy bear in the middle like a tiny guardian. Moonlight stretched in thin stripes across the floorboards.
The stuffed bear’s stitched mouth twitched. A faint, smoky voice hummed through the quiet.
“Minjun.”
The boy stirred, eyes opening without surprise. “Hi, Dad.”
“You’ve been good,” the voice murmured from the toy. “Getting ready for your party?”
Minjun nodded in response to his father’s question. “Mommy says it’s on the day before halloween.”
“Perfect.” A pause, like a smile hiding in the words. “Let’s have a little fun, hm?”
The beady eyes of the bear glowed faintly red before fading back to black.
Outside, a gust of wind rattled the paper bats in the living room, and one slipped loose, spinning lazily to the floor.
Tuesday
Taehyung’s alarm clock screamed at 6:00 a.m. Literally, screamed.
A loop of garbled syllables sounded out of the tiny speaker, ominous and deep like a prayer said in the wrong way.
He flailed for the button and finally yanked the plug, causing silence.
He stared at it. “Great. Possessed electronics.” His sleep deprived mind quipped.
You were already dressed as he stepped down, hair twisted up and makeup smooth. Minjun sat at the dining table, swallowing spoon after spoon of crispy cereal. The domestic scene grounded him as he reached for his mug, pouring coffee, then blinking. The liquid came out thick and tar coloured, more like sludge than a warm brew.
“Uh… is this new?”
You turned, eyes widening for a half-second before masking it with a groan. “Minjun, please tell me you didn’t mix paint in the coffee pot again.”
The boy tilted his head innocently. “I didn’t do it.”
“Kids go through phrases,” You sighed, ruffling the kid’s hair as you passed him to grab your purse. “He’s just testing your limits, give him time.” You smiled, kissing Taehyung on the cheek before beckoning the little boy over and out the house.
Taehyung dumped the substance in the sink. The goo hissed as it poured down the drain. He didn’t dwell on it.
-
He was back at his desk by nine, the alarm and coffee already a weird memory in the back of his mind.
Jimin, his supervisor, plopped into the chair opposite him. “So… how’s the domestic life?” He grinned, chin propped up on his palm like he was ready to talk shit.
Taehyung gave a dry laugh, deciding to fuck it and hint at the strange shenanigans. “Alarm clock’s haunted and the coffee is cursed. Kid’s creative though, I gotta admit that.”
Jimin raised a brow. “That’s specific.”
“He’s six. Halloween’s this week, he’s got an imagination.”
“Is it an imagination, or a warning?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You’re talking nonsense, Jimin-ah.”
“You know, when I first got together with Joon, his daughter would leave her plastic toy knife beside my pillow each morning.”
“That’s…” Taehyung trails off, imagining the scene. “Mhm. The little gremlin had it out for me and still kind of does.”
Taehyung pursed his lips, Jimin’s words not making his paranoia better.
“Look, my point is you gotta assert dominance over kids to make them take you seriously.”
“Oh my god, Jimin…” Taehyung groaned, pretending to block his ears as Jimin carried on.
“What? I’m serious!” The blonde flicked at Taehyung’s forehead. “Act like you’re already his dad, the kid’s not gonna know any better.” He snickered before getting up and leaving Taehyung to his jumbled thoughts.
“Maybe, Jimin’s right.”
-
Far below the world of the living, if you squinted, possibly beneath the foundations of the town— light flickered like fire fighting against shadows.
Jungkook lounged in his chair, one ankle crossed over the other as a small monitor floated in front of him.
Through it was a peak into Minjun’s bedroom, the edges shimmering softly as he took in the toys neatly arranged and the forgotten LEGO project in the corner.
He leaned closer and one of the toy soldiers saluted.
“Hello, champ,” Jungkook said, voice smooth and low, more mischief than menace.
The sound travelled through the plastic figurine before echoing into Minjun’s room, as faint as a hum in the walls.
Minjun glanced up from colouring. “Hi, Dad.”
“New roomie survived the morning?”
Minjun grinned. “He startled at the clock.”
“Perfect. Remember, small things. We don’t want mom to get mad.”
The boy nodded firmly, “Practice run.”
Jungkook leaned back, smirk wicked on his lips. “Exactly. Practice before the big day.”
The monitor flickered, a delay in image which he groaned at before straightening as you appeared, perfecting the green frosting smeared onto chocolate cupcakes, a gentle glow gracing your face.
Jungkook’s eyes softened for a heartbeat, then he waved his hand and the picture dissolved into smoke, the monitor revealing his little man again.
“Let’s step it up, buddy.”
Wednesday
They said the town would be festive. They didn’t mention that it would be combustible.
Taehyung should have been feeling light, both you and him had taken the day off from work. He’d told Jimin he needed it for something important which prompted a wink out of the man like he knew exactly what that ‘something’ entailed. Bonding, boundaries, the slow but steady work of becoming a family.
The town square smelt like fried dough and candle wax; the mayor’s temporary stage glimmering with bright orange string lights and fake cobwebs. Kids dressed up in half finished costumes darted around, sugar high and full of life.
Minjun clinged to Taehyung’s hand like a tiny anchor, voice terribly certain as he whispered, “we’re going to win.”
“Win what?” Taehyung voiced his confusion casually.
Minjun smiled a smile that belonged to a kid who knew more than he let on. “The pumpkin contest.”
Rows of folding tables and plastic chairs were set up for the event. The rules were simple: carve, present, applaud. The whole town would be casting votes at the end. Prizes consisted of a cheap, plastic trophy, a toy store gift card. The little things that would be remembered for years.
First, it was absolutely charming. Minjun’s small hands moved with unnerving steadiness, cutting crisp lines and producing perfect triangles that dripped with pumpkin juice, almost as if it were crying.
Taehyung worked clumsily beside him, scooping pulp after thick pulp that never seemed to end, he laughed and kept going.
You snapped pictures on your phone, cheerfully oblivious.
You couldn’t even detect the change in the air unless you really paid attention which was not the case for the joyous crowd.
It started with the speakers set up neatly on the stage, the mayor's playlist— once jaunty and childish— forming into low, warped voices that vibrated against Taehyung’s ribs. The paper spiders hanging above everyone’s heads trembled in the still air, listening to a whisper only they could hear. Someone’s candles blew out, then burned with a sickly green tint that smelt like rotting flesh.
Pumpkins in the far right corner convulsed before promptly splitting across its belly and exploding, pulpy insides splattering onto people and the ground alike, sliding like a rubbery flood from the top of people’s heads, almost like their brains had turned orange and started seeping right out of their skulls.
People panicked. Children shrieked and scrambled back. A woman knocked over her lamp; it rolled right off the table and shattered, little flames bubbling up on the dirt ground. The sight drew small yells, and then the dry and brittle hay piles stacked by the stage caught a stray ember, sparking orange weaving through the straw before flaring up faster than Taehyung could think.
Smoke clouded the square with the speed of an eye blinking. It was hot, stinging as people flailed to get away and escape its grasp. Someone screamed that they couldn’t breathe.
The speakers fizzed and produced a hissing laugh sound before going dead.
Your voice broke through the chaos. “Get him! Get him now!”
Taehyung lunged for Minjun who kept staring at the dancing flames, as if they were speaking to him. Taehyung felt the heat across his forearms and smelt singe; a child opposite him was coughing, face wet with tears and pumpkin residue. An old man had collapsed next to the stage and twisted his ankle, another woman bore a shallow cut across her forehead from broken glass, blood bright and alarming on pale skin. A kid had slipped on wet pumpkin mush and hit his head, a hard cracking thud that made the air go still for a second.
He sees you shoving past the throes of horrified individuals, pushing against folding tables to get to them. Your eyes as wide as saucers and hands fast as they grabbed Minjun, pulling him into your arms. Taehyung saw the tilt from excitement to raw panic on your face as you looked up to check on him as well.
People hurried towards exits as they heard the first sirens, still far away but a sign of help. He was glad someone was in the right mind to call for aid.
He wanted to believe it was an electrical fault, an overloaded speaker, a junior volunteer with faulty wiring. He wanted to believe in circuits and dumb fucking pranks. He wanted to believe that all this could be explained with a call to the city and a list of expenses.
In the middle of that, Minjun nuzzled his face into your neck like a skittish, small animal. His voice, muffled, whispered, “Daddy says we won.”
“Shh,” you breathed, voice tight and eyes narrowed. “Shhh.”
When the ambulance lights splashed across terrified faces and a fire engine rolled in, the square looked smaller than before: burnt straw, a grey smear where the pumpkins had burst, glitter and confetti pathetically plastered to wet concrete. Multiple people were taken in, some of the injuries severe and lawsuit worthy.
Later into the evening, as the town liked tidy endings, officials would state that the cause was a catastrophic failure in the stage’s rented pyrotechnics and a combination of aged wiring and unsecured decorations. They’d call it an unfortunate series of events, an overload. The insurance forms would be signed. Someone would apologise in the local paper. It would be narrated into a story they could read and nod at then forget it altogether.
But Taehyung had seen the pumpkin split with a deliberate, obscene precision— way too quick to be classed as natural. The ember by the hay pile had brushed the exact spot that prompted the fire, not random, targeted. People scrambled and got hurt in ways that made Taehyung want to throw up, this was not a kind of ‘accident’ that only scared; it had the hint of intention clinging to the edges.
He wanted to see the evidence. He wanted to get to the bottom of the mechanics within the whole disaster, the stage, the burnt hay, the gruesome display of explosive pumpkins. He craved rational answers that stopped the churning in his gut and made sense.
-
Just after midnight, when you and Taehyung were fast asleep and bandages lay in a small neat pile on the coffee table, Jungkook sat underneath the town like a sentinel.
On his monitor screen, the square had gone dark and twitchy. Sirens, the flare of the fire engine. He replayed it back in a twisted loop, savouring the little beats: the exact second the pumpkin tore, the way the ember chased the hay, the scream of the speakers dying. He smiled, slow and satisfied before letting his lips fold into something softer.
The monitor now displayed the tiny figure of his son, laying in bed wide awake with his teddy clutched close. “That was fun.” Minjun’s tired voice mumbled.
He watches fondly as the little one shakes his head side to side enthusiastically, replying to Jungkook’s question with a small, whispered ‘no’.
“We were careful, you did great.” He watches as Minjun beams, hand squeezing at his plushie tighter.
Jungkook’s fingers tapped the arm of his chair. He had wanted Taehyung scared shitless, unsettled enough to stumble and leave. He didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt this seriously, he doesn’t make enemies of the town.
He berated himself for his loss of control, aiming to tone down the scares to within the home instead of in public.
Jungkook leaned back and watched as his boy’s eyes flickered shut, sleep overcoming his buzzing, joyful little body. For the first time since he’d started this, he felt a thin, pinprick of worry that Minjun was enjoying this a little too much.
Above, the town’s lights flickered off damp pavements. The week was far away from being over.
Thursday
Taehyung woke up to sunlight that felt wrong, too still, too heavy.
You were already up as usual, your voice floating from downstairs as you coaxed Minjun into eating his breakfast. God his stomach dropped at the thought of that kid.
Everything looked normal when he strolled in, half finished cereal bowls, an unzipped backpack, cartoons low on the television. Yet the air tasted metallic, like a tangy penny sat under his tongue.
He poured coffee, the pot fine this time. Then he glanced at the window and froze.
His reflection was smiling wide, even though his lips were set in a straight line.
He scrunched close his eyes, heart hammering, before glancing again— his blank, pale face staring back at him, still unnervingly different around the edges.
He shook his head. “Ignore it.” He muttered to himself.
-
The office was too bright. Every light seemed to buzz with a faint hum, meant for only his hearing. Hoseok took a seat on the edge of his desk, watching him sluggishly scroll through emails.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He winces.
“Yeah,” he slumped back into his chair. “Feels like I never left that nightmare carnival.”
“The accident’s all anyone’s talking about,” Hoseok quipped unhelpfully. “Five people in the hospital overnight. Crazy for a small town like this.”
Taehyung nodded, trying not to picture it again. The smell of burning hay seemed to cling to his clothes. The ghastly screams echoed in his mind. Fuck, yesterday was insane.
Halfway through a rough sketch, the corner of his laptop screen glitched, the reflection showcasing a shadow that wasn’t his— it was smaller, sharper. Wearing a grin that was too wide.
His head whipped to look back, finding the normalcy of empty cubicles and humming computers behind him, nothing out of place.
He shut his laptop. Pulse thudding in his throat.
At lunch he had to bring it up to Hoseok, explaining it carefully.
“Do you ever feel like, after something big happens, your brain just keeps taunting you with it? Like you see pieces everywhere you look?”
“Yeah, “ Hoseok replied gently. “It’s called stress, Tae. A trauma response. You’re fine, man. Go home, take a nap, hug your people.”
Taehyung swallowed before nodding slowly. When he looked down, his notebook had words scrawled in the margin that he didn’t remember writing.
Go home
Hug your people
He’s watching
He tore out the whole page, stuffing it in the bin and pretending like his hands weren’t shaking.
-
You looked excited when he arrived home, determined to erase the memory of yesterday's chaos.
You had pizza on the counter, music playing softly.
“Just us tonight,” you grinned. “No kid, no screens, no stress.”
Minjun had been picked up by his grandparents after school, a sleepover arranged to cheer both the little boy and his mother up.
His crayons had been left on the coffee table from the morning, Taehyung getting a glance at the picture he drew. His heart sank at what he saw.
Two stickman figures, clearly representing you and Minjun, were on one side— smiles big and hands locked. Taehyung’s stickman figure seemed to be on the other side, frowning and fucking bleeding from the eyes. The thing that made him even more frightened was the ominous, huge shadowy figure separating him from the other two, red circles shining like rubies as its eyes.
He angrily grabbed the picture, storming over to where you were humming under your breath, cutting pizza slices.
“What the actual fuck is this?” He demanded, mind a mess and voice deep.
He saw the frown form on your face as you took the piece of paper he shoved into your hands, your eye brows furrowed.
“Tae…” you sighed, crossing your arms as you assessed the drawing. “This is normal for kids his age, he’s adapting to this very big change.”
He’s in disbelief. Do you seriously not see the creature in the middle?
He watches as you place the drawing down before pulling him closer by the hoops of his belt. “I’m sorry he’s upsetting you, but you promised to give him time.” You smiled softly, wrapping your arms around him.
He let out a breath, nose buried in your hair as he stared at the picture on the counter. “Yeah, time.”
When he went to the bathroom to freshen up, he found another message. This time written in the condensation on the mirror:
LEAVE
He wiped it away with his sleeve but the letters returned in the fog a moment later. Faint, but certain.
-
It was late into the night. The television drawled on with the third movie you had put on a few minutes ago and the coffee table was littered with half-finished snacks. Taehyung gulped down the last of the wine, tugging you closer as you cuddled into his side. This was nice. He felt relaxed and carefree after a long while, everything seemed normal too.
After a moment, he felt the warm press of your hand splaying across his thigh, fingers just inches away from his crotch. He twitched in interest, raising a brow at your little smirk.
He sighed and tilted his head back as you started to place small, open kisses along the sharp curve of his jaw. Leading to his ear and whispering. “Let me make you feel good, baby.”
Who was he to deny you?
You claimed his lips in a deep kiss, mouth opening sweetly for his tongue to dominate. His big hand cradled your jaw, angling your face while pulling you into his lap.
He groaned as your warm heat, barely covered by the thin cotton of your shorts, settled over his hardening cock. Enveloping his need in a pleasing embrace.
He longed to feel your velvet walls dragging around his dick, yearned to hear your tiny gasps and choked moans as he pounds into you. But he takes it slow, hands dragging over your body leisurely, and mind numb from the wine.
He cups your ass, grinding you down onto his shaft as you suckle on his tongue. Fuck he feels close already, boxers damp from his leaking tip and balls tight with the need to release.
He leans back to watch you shamelessly rub your needy, covered clit on him. Head thrown back in utter pleasure.
As he admires you, his body randomly feels itchy like crazy. It gets worse, like tiny spiders crawling over him, punishing him for touching you.
He powers through it, focusing on providing you pleasure and hoping you don’t notice his retreating hands. His heart is thudding against his ribcage, mind full of the tiny prickles that seem to be claiming each and every square of his body. His hands clench in discomfort as his face scrunches up, boner deflating immediately.
Suddenly, the feel of your warm cunt on him feels more like a fucking hot iron, prompting him to push you off his lap and hiss, cupping his crotch in agony.
“What the hell, Taehyung?!” You scoff, standing up and staring at him in confusion as he stares down at his hands, looking utterly defeated.
“Sorry, I’m not in the mood.” He mumbled, feeling like he was about to throw up.
“Well you could’ve just said so,” he watched you reply in annoyance before sighing. “You’re scaring me baby, what’s going on?”
He swallows, wracking his mind for a believable excuse since he can’t outright tell you he thinks your son is fucking demonic. He glances up, trying to form the boxy smile you fell in love with. “I’m fine, seriously. Just maybe still shaken up from yesterday.”
He sees your eyes roam over him, waiting for any falters or breakdowns but he remains firm. He watches you nod slowly, giving him a strained smile of your own. “Yeah I get that. Might as well go to bed now, hm?” You coax before turning away and leaving. He knows you're unhappy, confused and probably dissatisfied. But he also knows he’s not wanted here.
He nibbles on his lip, mind racing with thoughts. There’s obviously something wrong with Minjun, he isn’t a normal kid. But Taehyung doesn’t give up. He remembers Jimin’s words from a couple of days ago, brain forming a plan that he hopes stops this whole madness.
-
Jungkook’s jaw remains tight even after you leave Taehyung alone in the living room. He didn’t like the way that prick was touching and feeling you up like you were his.
His body hums in satisfaction at Taehyung’s crushed expression, feeling no remorse for taking a hit at his ego.
“Stay in your lane, Kim.”
He mutters into the silence surrounding him, not loud enough for Taehyung to hear but certain enough for him to feel.
Friday
Taehyung didn’t sleep. Every creak of the house sounded like a warning through the walls. By sunrise he decided that this wasn’t stress or a coincidence. There was something seriously wrong with the kid.
When he walked into the kitchen, Minjun was sat at the table, neat and still, drawing with his breakfast untouched.
“Morning, babe,” you said, dressed bright and seemingly over what happened last night. “Ready for work?”
He nodded absently, taking a seat next to Minjun and warily eyeing the picture he was creating.
The boy paid him no mind, but you caught onto his gaze, eyes narrowing and lips pursed.
After breakfast, Taehyung caught Minjun alone in the hallway before school.
He’d meant to sound firm, fatherly, but it came out more as a desperate plea.
“Whatever you’ve been doing,” he started. “The pranks, the notes, the whatever that was at the pumpkin contest, it stops— now.”
Minjun tilted his head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You think it’s funny? Scaring me like that?”
“I didn’t do anything.” The boy repeated, slower, firmer.
Then, barely above a whisper he muttered. “You”ll make daddy mad if you keep saying things like that.”
You appeared before Taehyung could respond, keys in hand and oblivious to the tension. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung replied. “Everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t. The boy’s expression lingered in his head all morning. Calm, certain, and a little pitying.
-
He couldn’t focus.
Every reflection in the office windows seemed to ripple when he looked away.
When Hoseok stopped by to ask about a report, Taehyung blurted, “Do you know any, uh, therapists who deal with kids? Like with serious behavioural stuff?”
“Behavioural?” Hoseok repeated, blinking. “You mean counselling?”
“Yeah, or like spiritual stuff, I dunno.”
Hoseok frowned. “Are you okay, Tae?”
He paused, lips pressed together and eyes glistening for a fraction before he sighed and looked away. “No, no I’m not okay.” He admitted, the knot in his throat slowly unraveling as he went on. “The kid he’s… he’s fucking diabolical and wants me gone, Hobi.”
“Woah, what are you saying?” Hoseok muttered, taking a seat next to the fidgety man.
“I think Minjun is either possessed or the devil incarnated and I need to fix it. I love (Y/N) and have tried to love her son but I can’t if he’s trying to make me insane.”
Hoseok leaned back, assessing Taehyung’s dark eye bags and tensed shoulders. “I think you should maybe see a therapist, Taehyung-ah.” Hoseok sighed, clearly torn between believing the childish claims and easing Taehyung’s mind or being real.
“I think the Wednesday thing took a toll on you a lot more than you realise.”
“No, no! You don’t understand Hobi, I’m losing my fucking mind.” He whispers, clutching at his hair.
“The kid needs help, fast.” He says firmly.
Hoseok eyes him worriedly. “Hey, how would (Y/N) feel about you claiming her son is the devil?” He tries to reason, reminding Taehyung of you.
Taehyung shakes his head, adamant and stubborn. “She would be thanking me, I’m basically doing her a favour.”
Hoseok furrows his brows.” I dunno man, maybe see someone.” He mutters before getting up and leaving.
Taehyung watches him go, feeling like he’s truly alone in all this.
He spends the rest of his time scrolling through forums after forums until he found someone who called themselves a specialist in spiritual disturbances.
A blurry photo showed a relatively young man, probably only a few years older than him. He wasn’t a priest, but not exactly a therapist either. The site was full of words like cleansing, presence, malintent.
Taehyung sent an email anyway.
-
You noticed the tension the moment he walked in.
“You’ve been off these past few days,” you started gently.
“You’re pale, you’re jumpy, and you’re looking at Minjun like he’s—“
“Like he’s possessed?” Taehyung’s eyes glinted, but you can tell the words came out sharper than he meant.
The silence after that was deafening.
You glanced at Minjun who was sat at the dining table, peering at the both of you. Your heart sank, there’s no way your little boy has been the cause of everything lately.
“I’m trying,” Taehyung said quietly. “I really am. There’s just something in this house that isn’t right.”
Your eyes hardened. “You’re just tired. That’s what’s wrong.”
You turn away, hoping the double meaning of your words knocked some sense into him. He may be tired of you, of your son, that’s why these excuses are forming.
-
He receives an email back late into the night.
Mr Kim,
I’ve seen cases like yours before. Do NOT directly confront the kid.
Meet me at this location to discuss further.
145 Fox Way.
— M.Y
Taehyung kept rereading the message, heart pounding.
It didn’t matter that this had been sent by a stranger on the internet, what mattered was that someone finally believed him.
He looked around the dark house, every shadow feeling heavy.
“Just one more day,” he whispered to himself. “One more day, then we fix this.”
Saturday
Taehyung was awake way before his alarm, where it was still dark outside. He threw on a random jacket and left you a note saying he’s out to buy breakfast for the birthday boy.
He drove through fog that swallowed streetlights before finally arriving at the location set. Fox Way teetered on the edge of town, littering half abandoned houses, the kind that still had mailboxes from the eighties. He parked outside number 145, a narrow brick house with no curtains and a single yellow light burning in the window.
The man that opened the looked more like a weary professor rather than a mystic, shaggy hair tied back in a loose bun, thick sweater, calm eyes.
“You’re Kim Taehyung? He asked, moving aside to let him in.
Taehyung nodded.
“I’m Min Yoongi.” The man replied. “You wrote to me about a child.”
Taehyung sat down and told him everything, from Monday to now, emphasising the vile events of Wednesday and the cruel messages left wherever he looked. Yoongi listened without interruption, hand placed under his chin.
Finally, he asked, “What’s the boy’s name?”
“Minjun. Jeon Minjun.”
For a moment, the clock seemed to stop ticking. Yoongi’s eyes lost focus and he licked his lips, almost nervously, before repeating quietly.
“Jeon?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Yoongi pushed back his chair, standing abruptly and gathering his papers. “I can’t help you.”
Taehyung blinked. “What do you mean you can’t help me, you literally told me to come here!”
“I’m telling you, I don’t want to be involved. The town doesn’t mess with that name.” He explains hurriedly, pulling Taehyung up from the couch.
Taehyung grabbed at his arm, desperately trying to stop the man from kicking him out. “Please, whatever you know, tell me. I can’t keep living like this.”
Yoongi studied him for a long minute before sighing, letting go of him and making his way to the cupboard in the corner of the room. He returned with a small glass vial held in his hand, the liquid inside swirled a faint, cloudy golden glow.
“Give him a drop of this,” Yoongi said. “If you’re lucky, it will quiet whatever’s latched onto him. You need him to take it himself. Force doesn’t work with this, understand?”
Taehyung nodded, the small bottle clutched like a lifeline in his grasp.
“What happens if it doesn’t work?”
Yoongi pats his shoulder. “You pray.”
-
He was halfway home with breakfast when you called, your voice a mixture of stress and excitement.
“Hi baby! Clown cancelled last minute. You need to find a replacement please, I’m busy and it’s Minjun’s big day!”
Taehyung cleared his throat, eyes trained on the vial still gripped in his hand. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out.”
He parked somewhere nearby to search for one, calling countless companies until finally one agreed to stop by in a few hours. He was cheap, local, and went by the name World Wide Funny Guy. He would have to do, and so Taehyung booked him for the early afternoon where he arrived just as the backyard began to fill with kids and balloons.
The yard was all laughter and sugar for the most part, neighbourhood kids running around, even Jimin with his step-daughter were invited.
Taehyung spent the first hour hovering near Minjun with a paper cup of juice mixed with a drop of the mysterious liquid Yoongi gave him. He would coax Minjun into taking a sip when the child got tired from running or playing but every time he got close, something interrupted. A child would run into him, a parent would want to have a chat. Once, the liquid vanished completely, like it had soaked into thin air.
Minjun didn’t even take the bait, always sporting an amused smile when Taehyung came near.
Then World Wide Funny Guy started his routine, juggling near the desserts table as Minjun watched, expressionless. When the clown made a balloon dog and handed it to him, the latex hissed and deflated in the boy’s grip, prompting an awkward, grating laugh out of the clown that made Taehyung wince.
Seconds later, the clown prepared to show off his juggling fire talent to the children. But the lighter he had with him, flared too high and his sleeve caught, angry flames travelling up his arm as he screamed in terror. Someone threw water, a parent stamped it out with a blanket, it was like Wednesday all over again. The man was mostly shaken, red mark on his arm, but the scene was enough to stun the party into silence.
Taehyung turned to reader, eyes wide as he whispered frantically. “He— he did that! I saw him!” He pointed at Minjun.
“Stop!” Your voice hit him like a slap, eyes glaring at him in disbelief. “You were careless enough to hire a clown from a random site and you’re blaming Minjun for it? Get your shit together, Taehyung.” You hissed, leading the children inside with promises of cake.
Everyone left Taehyung alone and shaking on the patio, the vial burning in his pocket like a reminder for his failure.
When the guests were gone and the sun had bled out into the trees, Taehyung tried one last time.
He sat beside Minjun, offering a glass of milk. “You did good today, buddy. You must be tired. Drink up?” He put on a strained smile, tilting the glass in the boy’s direction.
Minjun stared at the glass, then at him. “I’m not allowed to take things from strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.” Taehyung grit out.
The boy tilted his head. “Then why do you keep trying to change me?”
The vial in Taehyung’s pocket cracked, thin lines webbing the glass and the liquid soaking through the fabric. He flinched, and when he looked up again, Minjun was already climbing the stairs.
-
Yoongi sat at his desk, watching the newsfeed highlighting a ‘birthday accident’ and rubbing at his temples.
“Should’ve never given him that.” He muttered lowly.
“Should’ve just told him to leave town.”
And far below, Jungkook smirks, monitor showing the faint image of his son.
“Tomorrow, birthday boy.” He whispered.
“Tomorrow I come home.”
Sunday
The house cracked with silence.
Taehyung sat at the dining table, staring into cold coffee. His hair was still damp from the shower he had taken hours ago to feel awake.
You hadn’t spoken a word to him since last night's disaster. He watched you move through the kitchen like a ghost, pointedly cheerful when helping the birthday boy fasten the red horns on his headband.
“Look at you,” she murmured fondly. “My little devil.”
“Fitting.” Taehyung thought.
The doorbell kept ringing, neighbourhood kids starting early. Your phone buzzed during last minute costume adjustments, expression souring as she glanced at the screen.
“Work,” you groaned. “They’re gonna need me for an hour or two.” You muttered blankly to Taehyung before crouching in front of Minjun. “Be good for Taehyung, okay? Just a few streets, then home.”
Minjun nodded solemnly. “Promise.”
Taehyung opened his mouth to protest, he didn’t trust himself to be alone with the kid, but you had already grabbed your keys— the front door closing behind you with a final thud.
The night was orange and black, the sky smeared with thin clouds. Taehyung followed Minjun down the block, flashlight in hand. He warily watched the kid trot from porch to porch, horns glowing faintly under the dim streetlights.
For a while, it was almost normal.
Then, round the corner, Minjun stopped and turned. His voice quiet, perfectly even.
“You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Taehyung frowned. “Pretend what?”
“That you’re not scared of me.”
Taehyung’s throat went dry. “You’re a kid. I’m not scared of you.”
Minjun grinned. “You should be.”
The flashlight flickered out, streetlights following in suit. In the silence, Taehyung heard a second voice, low, eerily familiar, echoing from everywhere all at once.
“He warned you, didn’t he?”
Taehyung spun around. Nothing. Just dark yards, plastic skeletons, and the crinkle of dry leaves.
Minjun’s eyes gleamed. “That’s my dad.”
And before Taehyung could move, the ground under his feet seemed to open up.
-
By the time you pulled into the driveway, the night had gone still again. The porch light glowed like nothing had happened but the floor was littered with a few stray candy wrappers.
You entered the strangely quiet house, calling out, “Taehyung?”
Nothing.
You tried ringing him too, straight to voicemail both times.
A movement in the window made you freeze.
Outside, in the yard, Minjun stood by his sandbox, devil horns still glinting on his head. At his feet lay a full-sized shovel, streaked with dirt and way too heavy for any child to drag across the backyard alone.
Your stomach dropped and you ran out barefoot, the grass slick with dew.
“Minjun!” You gasped. “Where’s Taehyung?”
He pointed silently at the sandbox, a faint screaming noise now present as you stared at the mound.
Panic struck and you dropped to your knees, first digging frantically with your hands before grabbing the shovel until it hit cloth, then skin, then movement.
Taehyung burst upward with a hoarse shout, coughing and clawing for air. You hauled him out, shaking. “Oh my god, oh my god, Tae.”
He stared at you, wide-eyed with sand plastered to his face.
“I want a fucking break up,” he rasped, stumbling to his feet. “I’m done. I’m done with this family.”
“Wait— please…” you tried, guilt twisting your gut as he limped towards his car, repeatedly muttering, “You can’t fix this. You can’t fix him.”
The engine roared, tires grinding against gravel, and he was gone.
You turned back to the yard where Minjun hadn’t moved, the shovel gleaming at his side.
“That’s it!” You snapped, voice breaking. “Enough games, enough secrets. You don’t get to bury people alive!”
The boy tilted his head.
“That wasn’t me.”
“Minjun,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Where is he?”
A gust of cold air swept through the yard despite it being a still night. The shadows behind Minjun deepened, stretching tall and forming the shape of a man with familiar broad shoulders you hadn’t seen nor touched in years.
Your fists clenched, voice cracking in the dark.
“Jungkook! Stop fucking hiding and show yourself!”
The air trembled; the toys on the porch rattled. A voice, deep and amused, drifted from the darkness. Warm enough to make your skin crawl.
“Miss me, angel?”
You turned and there he was, tall and slim in the dim porch light, grin familiar enough to hurt. Minjun’s horns caught a faint glow and the boy broke into a run.
“Daddy!”
Jungkook knelt, catching him easily as his chest rumbled with laughter. “There’s my birthday boy. You did such a great job.”
He pulls out a small bow from his coat pocket and handed it over to the buzzing boy, the wrapping shimmering a dark red.
Your anger flared through the shock. “That’s enough. Inside, Minjun. Now.”
Minjun’s shoulders drooped low but he obeyed, clutching the token of his hard work as he trudged towards the stairs. When the door closed behind him, the yard felt too quiet.
Jungkook’s smile lingered. “You look so pretty when you’re mad.”
You folded your arms, ignoring the way his comment made you feel. “You can’t just show up after three years and start this again. You scared him. You scared me.”
He tilted his head, jaw tight. “I gave you space didn’t I?” He murmured, challenge glinting in his eyes. “I entertained your little break. Baby, you and I both know it was temporary.”
You pursed your lips, kicking yourself for thinking you could live a life without him.
“It was never a break for me, mamas.” He smirked. “It was a waiting game, watching you try and forget me,” he paused, voice appearing deeper. “But you can’t, can you?”
Your breath caught at the way he said it, low and certain. Stating a fact rather than asking a question. Jungkook took a step closer to you, boots shifting on grass.
“Can you?” He pressed, voice almost a growl. “You tried so hard, angel. New house, new life, new man… but every time you closed your eyes, I was still there.”
You laughed once, brittle. “You really think I sit around missing you?”
He smiled, all teeth. “I know you sit around trying not to.”
The porch lights flickered, casting his face in brief flashes that reminded you of what he was. Familiar, wrong, irresistible. Your voice came out thin. “You don’t get to just show up and pretend like we’re fine. You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
“And yet,” Jungkook muttered, finally closing the distance between them, “you’re still listening to me.”
You hated how true it was. You hated how your pulse still thudded for him, loud enough to drown out the wind.
“Go home,” you tried. “Go back to whatever pit you crawled out from.”
He leaned in, his breath warm against your face. “You are my home.”
Something inside you twisted— anger, longing, and desire all tangled together. For a heartbeat, the world went utterly still.
-
The wind blew fast around you both, your heartbeat erratic. You wanted to look away, to keep your distance, but Jungkook always had that kind of gravity in his eyes, the kind that pulled and pulled to the point of resistance feeling useless.
“You’re still the same, you whispered, hating how your voice was shaking. “You never change.”
“Neither do you,” he replied softly. “That’s why we work.”
Your jaw clenched. “We don’t—“
He cut you off, hand warm while cupping your cheek. “Tell me to leave,” he murmured, finality in his words. “And I will.”
Your mouth opened but nothing came out.
His gaze dropped to your mouth and the silence stretched to the point of danger.
“I can’t,” you said finally, barely audible.
That was all it took.
He angled your face up, and before you could think, his mouth was claiming yours. The world tilted. Every thought, every year you’d spent trying to forget, dissolved under the weight of it.
His mouth was gentle and dominant all at once, familiarity creeping into your bones as you kissed him back.
His right hand kept hold of your jaw while the other trailed down to your hip, pulling you closer to his muscular form which made you moan into his mouth.
The sound had him going crazy, hardness pressed up against you as he let go of your face to click his fingers, the two of you now in your bedroom.
He broke the kiss to look around, eyes glinting as they settled upon Taehyung’s leftover clothes and things.
His head turned back to you, hand raising to wrap his fingers around your throat, not squeezing, just claiming.
He walks you back, and you step willingly. Eyes locked, his palm burning at the base of your neck. You sit down at the edge and he follows, knees either side of you, his muscular form towering.
“You really thought he could love you like I do? Touch you like I do?” He snickered, tone mocking and eyes mean.
You can’t answer him, the throb between your legs overtaking your mind and his smirk widens. He squeezes your cheeks together in his grasp, pouty lips opening for him. He groans before pursing his lips and letting a dribble of spit slowly descend down your throat.
He follows the clear string, mouth burning on yours as he slides his tongue in and makes you swallow around it. “That’s it… let me claim you from inside and out.” The warm liquid seems to burn as it slithers down your insides, meticulously branding you as his.
His mouth doesn’t leave yours as he hikes you up further on the bed, laying you down oh so gently in contrast to his domineering kiss.
His hands take their time trailing under your shirt, claws half out and scraping faint red lines onto your skin. He reaches just under your breasts, the hem of your t-shirt tucked under your chin.
“Fuck I missed these. Need to get them nice and full again,” you moan at his words. “Yeah? You want that? Wanna be bred by me again, angel?”
His dirty talk has you clenching, prompting a growl out of his chest as he drags his gaze down to your jeans.
“Shiiiit, I can feel the pathetic thrum of your tiny pussy.” He grins, hands finding their place on your breasts finally. He gropes and squeezes the fat, watching it spill out from between his fingers.
“Should fucking punish you for not letting me see you like this. Shoulda jus’ bent you over my knee and spanked your ass red in front of Kim.”
You whimper, the words coming out of his devilish mouth not having mercy on your tightening cunt.
You watch with hazy eyes as his mouth finally latches onto your right nipple, tongue working diligently over the areola. He suckles like he’s trying to get milk out of you, teeth ruthless on your hard nipples with his tongue following to soothe. The contrast has you writhing against him, sheets clenched in your fists and toes curling.
Jungkook lathers your tits in his spit, hickeys forming so that no square of your chest is left untouched. He leans back after a long moment, producing once last glob of spit to slide between the valley of your breasts.
Your chest is shiny and spit-soaked. You feel sticky and owned.
He places kisses down a line on your stomach, worshiping the flesh that carried his child for nine months. He outlines faint stretch marks with the tip of his tongue, fingers working in tandem to unzip your jeans.
Your eyes are on his as he pulls you pants down along with your underwear. You bask in the sharp intake of air he produces as your dewy pussy is revealed to him.
“So fucking pretty f’me,” he mutters, admiring you in a trance-like state.
Jungkook smooths down his thumbs along your slick folds before pulling them back and letting you bloom like a flower for him. You whimper at the way his eyes dilate, pitch black and promising.
“You don’t know how crazy I’ve been mamas. Don’t know how much I’ve suffered being away from you, away from this sweet cunt.”
With that he licks a long, fat stripe up your heat, tongue licking up the nectar pouring from your hole before circling at your clit firmly. You throw your head back in utter pleasure, mouth parted in a gasp and drool sliding out from the side of your lips.
Your fingers tangle through his onyx hair, tugging at the sweat laced strands as he continues slurping along your pussy.
He eats you out like a man starved— quite literally. He’s been restricted from what’s his for long enough and powers his anger through messy sucks at your hole and punishing nibbles on your bud.
You moan his name repeatedly, like a chant. It makes him harder, the sounds of your overwhelming pleasure like music to his ears.
He moves his head from side to side, tongue prodding at your hole before licking inside to feel the familiarity of your gummy walls. His cock weeps in his pants, swollen and full to the brim.
He envelops your clit into his mouth, sucking intently as two fingers work their way inside of you, immediately finding the sweet spot he’s so familiar with.
The noises echoing in the room are vulgar and downright pornographic. The squelch of your pussy is met with his deep grunts as he mouths at you, fingers pumping fast and slapping against your folds.
You feel the telltale prickles of your orgasm, the coil tightening in your lower belly to the point it hurts. Your cunt constricts around his fingers, clenching manically as you reach your bliss— until it is ripped away from you.
Your eyes snap open to see Jungkook’s calm, unapologetic stare. “Only good girls get to cum.”
You whine and he tuts, wagging a finger in your face condescendingly.
“You’ve been a bad girl. Bringing in random men, playing house with them,” he sighed, brushing away a strand of hair stuck to your face. “I want you to work for it. Earn your release.” He smirks before snapping his fingers once more to make you appear on your knees in front of where he sits at the edge of the bed.
You’re face to face with his angry, restrained bulge. “Get to it, angel.” He hums, patting your cheek.
And you do. Hands fumbling to quickly unbutton his pants and pull them down, his thick shaft springing up right before your lips. You marvel at his cock, remembering every vein, every ridge, the way it would fuck you dumb every night of the week.
God. Why did you stop yourself from this? From him?
You push back regretful thoughts to the back of your head, bigger things to be worrying about now.
Your eyes flicker to his as you slide your tongue over your palm and fingers, thighs rubbing against each other with the way his jaw clenches. You pump at his thickness, your fingers barely meeting around the base.
“You don’t get to fucking tease.” He grits out darkly, placing a hand on the back of your head but not pushing. It’s more like a reminder of who’s in control.
You nod once before finally blanketing the engorged tip of his cock with your mouth, tongue swirling around the fat head and dipping into the slit. His pre cum is intense in your mouth but irresistible, musky and bitter but your mind perceives it as the best dessert ever made.
You take him in deeper, throat constricting around his huge cock as you revel in his guttural groans.
“Shit. Fuck, mamas. Mouth so fuckin’ warm f’me.”
You moan around him, almost smirking at the moan it pulls from his throat as he feels the vibrations through his pulsing meat.
His hand is still very present at the back of your head but he’s letting you control the pace. You bob your head, sucking around him and trailing every protruding vein.
He sounds delirious, little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ escaping him every time you go down. There’s fat tears rolling down your cheeks, your jaw accommodating the shaft to its limit, a shallow thud of pain gracing the edges.
You pleasure him with your mouth for a while, hands pumping what your mouth cannot reach. Your eyes are locked onto his dark ones that look a second away from just pulling you up and fucking you into the mattress.
His final straw is the way your teeth just shyly scrape against his length, the combination of the pain and shock making him fucking insane.
“Fuck, angel. I needa be inside you. Now.”
His tone leaves no room for disagreement, not that you had any in the first place. He pulls you up and manhandles you on your back, pulling off his shirt and kicking away his pants.
He crawls between your spread thighs like a predator, your throbbing pussy being his prey. He moves his hips closer and pumps his shaft before sliding the tip between your swollen folds.
“Tell me how much you wan’ it, baby.” His voice commands, hand firm on your hip as the other uses his cock to circle your clit.
“Please— please, Jungkook. Been waiting for you for so long.” You cry out, salty tears dribbling from your wet lash line and down your cheek. He leans forward to lick it up on your right cheek, biting at the flesh softly.
“Yeah? You gon’ finally let me back in? Gonna admit you’re my girl?”
You nod desperately, hips bucking to try and catch the tip of his cock. He smirks cockily before leading the head of his dick down and circling your hole.
You whine, back arching and hands trailing up his abs to hold onto his strong shoulders.
He licks his lips before inching into you, spreading your legs further as he watches your pussy swallow him greedily. “Fuck.” he curses, bottoming out and letting you adjust.
You whimper at the feeling of being full, rolling your hips with pleas pouring out of your mouth. “Koo— please move, please I can’t take it anymore!” You cry out sweetly and he coos, enveloping your mouth in a soft kiss as his hips start to grind slowly before pistoning into you roughly.
“Fuck, take it. Take all of me.”
He pounds into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass cheeks as his pelvis grinds against your clit. You feel the way he stretches your walls, cock curving and abusing the sweet spot hidden inside of you, just shy from ramming into your cervix. Your mouth is stilled in a silent gasp, breath choked as you feel pure, unadulterated bliss overtaking your every sense.
He seems to be lost in the way your gummy, hot insides wrap around his cock like a vice, grunts animalistic in your ear and thrusts unrelenting as he drives his dick into you.
You feel your denied orgasm from earlier pricking up again, your stomach tensing and back arching as he rearranges your guts. You cum with a loud, high pitched moan— vaginal canal tight around him, making him still and grit his teeth to hold back his own release.
He allows you to come down from your high, heavy breathing and thoroughly fucked out. His eyes roam in appreciation over your sweaty form, eyeing the pool of your own cum forming under your ass.
He growls, hands taking place on the underside of your knees to fold you into a mating press which slides his cock deeper into you with an obscene squelch.
Fuck you can feel him everywhere. Every crevice of your cunt is stretched to make room for his length.
He starts to fuck into you again, hips fast and tight as he chases his own building release. You moan repeatedly, body sliding up the bed with every harsh thrust.
You feel another wave of your orgasm crash over you, although much more intense and mind numbing.
He groans manically, fucking you through the spurts of squirt that your pussy is producing, watery liquid splashing onto his abs and further dampening the bed underneath you both.
Your cunt spasms around him, getting sore and sensitive by the second. You whine a little in discomfort but he kisses you to distract it, hips pounding into you without abandon as he’s so close.
Soon enough, his cock forms the familiar feeling of his knot inside of you, pushing your spent pussy to its limits— but he knows you can take it. He tries to thrust his knotted cock inside you but can only grind a little, the swollen sack begging for release. After a moment, you feel hot splashes of his cum painting your insides white in long spurts, his hips twitching as he moans lowly into your neck.
It takes a while for his knot to deflate, ropes and ropes of cum filling you and spilling out at the edges. When he’s in the clear, he pulls out gently, offering you a sympathetic smile when you wince.
A clatter on the nightstand reveals the bow of warm water and a clean cloth he had conjured. Jungkook cleaned you up lovingly, swiping across your used pussy with care even after all these years.
Afterwards, when you’re both clean and the sheets have been changed quickly with the help of Jungkook's magic, the two of you lay close— cuddled up together and warm.
You lick your lips before starting, “Kook, I’m sorry for trying to replace you.”
The soothing hand rubbing circles on your hip pauses, a sigh sounding out from his lips. “I’s alright, sweetheart. I was overbearing, but I want to be better. For you and Minjun.”
You nod in understanding and claim his lips in a soft kiss, the streets quiet now as the thrill of Halloween has ended.
Your family may not be perfect, but it’s worth fighting for.
The Next Morning
The house was still when the knock came.
You froze halfway down the stairs, the sound sharp against the quiet morning. Before you could reach the door, Jungkook was already there. Coffee mug in hand and moving like he’d always belonged in the space— which he had.
He pulled the door open.
Taehyung stood on the front porch, dark circles under his eyes, and empty hands nervously wrangled together. He blinked at the sight of Jungkook.
“Oh,” he said flatly. “You’re—”
Jungkook smiled, polite and almost unnervingly calm. “The ex.”
Taehyung swallowed. “Right.”
The pause felt longer than it was before Jungkook patted at Taehyung’s shoulder, eyes steady. “No hard feelings, yeah?”
It was more so a warning rather than a question, once that made Taehyung nod too fast. “Yeah. Sure.”
Jungkook hid a grin at his shaken form. “Good man. Your things are inside.”
He turned and walked back to the kitchen, leaving Taehyung standing awkwardly in the doorway until you appeared, arms crossed but eyes guilty.
“Hey,” you started softly.
“Hey,” Taehyung echoed. “I’m just here to grab my stuff.”
You nodded, stepping aside. “It’s all in the guest room.”
He warily made his way inside and upstairs to the guest room, dragging the suitcase that seemed to weigh light in his grip. He frowned, wondering if his stuff was even in here.
Before he could check, a small voice piped up from the other end of the hallway. “It’ll be easier for you to carry it down like that.” Minjun quipped, the reason behind the lighter feeling suitcase.
Taehyung stilled, turning around to face the little boy. “You’re helping me?”
Minjun nodded, smiling brightly. “You’ve been a good sport.”
The sight of his genuine smile aimed at Taehyung made his heart stutter, feeling like the boy didn’t exactly hate him.
He mirrored the nod, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile too before he made his way down with his stuff and out to meet you by the porch again. Not before giving Jungkook one last glance though.
He stood before you, silence stretching uncomfortably.
“You’re… back with him?” Taehyung asks finally.
You hesitated, then exhaled. “Yeah… something like that.”
He looked at you for a long time, the weight of everything unspoken sitting between them. Then, he nodded.
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will.” You replied.
He gave you one last look, a mix of pity and longing, before descending down the stairs and into his car. The car door slammed, the engine started, and soon he faded down the street.
Behind you, Jungkook’s voice drifted lazily from the kitchen.
“Told you he wasn’t your type.”
You closed your eyes, half a sigh, half a reluctant laugh. “Don’t start.”
Jungkook just smiled, reaching for the plates in the cupboard. “Who me? I’m just making breakfast for my family.”
Minjun came barrelling down the stairs, bright, unbothered, content.
And for the first time in a long while, the house felt full again.
summary: When you and your boyfriend breakup, Taehyung doesn’t waste a second to try get a date with you. In his bed, of course. But all his sugar-talking doesn’t seem to really work… until one blurry party night where you two end up together in a dirty bathroom.
genre/warning: porn with a lil plot. pure smut. / cursing, dirty talk (a lot), a little degradation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, cum eating (dirty as hell), creampie, overstimulation, lowkey yandere wth — i went all in i’m so sorry (im not)
author’s note: probably my nastiest writing ever. so get ur panties ready hoes
word count: +8k words
Taehyung noticed you before even finishing his first drink.
It wasn’t dramatic, no slow motion, no music cutting out, but it still hit him low in the stomach, sharp and inconvenient. You were in the middle of the living room, moving like you belong there, like the crowd bent around you without you trying. Your hair was sticking to your neck from the heat, your smile careless, loose, the kind that said you were not thinking too hard about anything.
Definitely not about him, especially.
Taehyung told himself he was just surprised. He’d heard, obviously. Everyone had. You and your boyfriend were done. A clean break, no details, just enough information to make it real. Still, seeing you there, dancing like nothing had cracked open in your life… it did something ugly to his thoughts. Something eager.
He was watching you for too long. He knew he did, knew it was wrong in about six different ways— same friend group, bad timing, worse intentions. You’ve never given him the time of day. Not really. Polite smiles, quick hellos, conversations that died before they even warmed up— it was never meant to work. He’d flirted before, light, joking, half-serious… and you’d always slid right past it, like you didn’t even notice or care.
Which was almost worse than rejection.
But Taehyung kept finding you anyway. In every room, every corner. His eyes tracked you without permission. You laughed with someone else and he wondered who got to hear that laugh up close now. You swayed to the music and he thought about how your ex must’ve had it easy, must’ve taken things for granted. He hated that thought, hated how personal it felt.
He hated how you wouldn’t look at his way. Hated how he knew that night it would be the same as always, you wouldn’t care about him and his poor attempts of flirting.
That’s why Taehyung hated how all night you didn’t look at him, not even once.
Same old story.
By the time the night blurred at the edges— too loud, too warm, too many bodies pressed together— he was convincing himself of two things: that whatever he was thinking was a terrible idea, and that he was already in too deep to stop thinking about it.
Ten minutes too many he found you again.
When he found you again, you were dancing with a man he didn’t recognize. Tall, broad shoulders, hands moving just a little too close to your ass. The music was loud enough to rattled the windows, bass heavy, filthy, and you moved like you knew exactly what you were doing. Not trying to impress, not trying at all.
That was what made it unbearable for him.
You rolled your shoulders, laugh when the guy leaned in to say something stupid in your ear. Your body followed the beat effortlessly, like it belonged there, like it had been waiting all night to be seen. Taehyung felt something hot and sharp crawl up his spine, watching the man’s hands, watching where they didn’t touch. He wondered if you’d let him do better, wondered if you’d notice the difference.
He knew he could be better, so much better.
Stronger grip, slower movements, he wouldn’t rush it like that idiot was clearly trying to. He wouldn’t crowd you, wouldn’t beg for attention with cheap lines and beer-breath confidence. He’d make you look at him. Make you lose control and make you choose. He would make you want it, crave it, he would build it for you, make you beg for it.
The thought turned dark fast. He imagined your back against the wall instead of the dancefloor. Imagined the way your smile would change if it was meant just for him, smaller, sharper, dangerous. He hated how badly he wanted it. Hated that he had wanted it for a long time, even when you barely spared him a glance.
Especially then.
Taehyung teared his eyes away before getting worse, retreating to the kitchen with the rest of the group, forcing himself into conversation he didn’t want to hear. Forced to get you out of his mind and socialize. He hated it. But he had to.
And some minutes later he thought he was doing better. Someone gave him a drink, a girl he vaguely recognized. She was cute, loud, she was leaning too close. She laughed at something he didn’t say. She touched his arm. He wasn’t feeling it, and he hated it.
His attention kept snapping back to the living room, to the way you move, the way that man kept trying to keep up with you and failing. Taehyung told himself it shouldn’t matter, he told himself you were freshly broken up, off-limits, bad timing wrapped in a bad idea, bad decision. If you hadn’t chose him before you were definitely not going to choose him now. He had been trying to convinced himself for years about it, after you had been introduced to the group, after you choose to date one of his closest friends, after you choose another man that wasn’t him.
And lately he had been trying, he had been doing better. Trying not to flirt with you, trying to stay away from you, barely seeing you, specially when you were with your boyfriend. The last four months he had decided to just get over it. There was a thousand more girls around he could sleep with, he didn’t need to obsess over someone who didn’t want him and who was dating one of his friends.
But, of course, you had broken up.
And he found you in this party.
And he was losing his mind.
You appeared in the kitchen, like you felt him thinking about you. You slipped into the room with a grin that looked like trouble, eyes bright, a little flushed, hair messy from dancing. You scanned the room once, then lifted your voice just enough to cut through the noise.
“Who wants to take shots with me?”
There was a pause, a collective hesitation.
Taehyung had his answer before he could even think about it. “I do.”
It came out solid, certain.
But it didn’t surprise him. Because he had never doubt for a second of doing anything related to you.
You looked at him then. And something flickered in your expression. Surprise, maybe… or interest. Or maybe you were just drunk enough to make reckless decisions.
“Okay,” you said, like you’ve already decided. “Let’s go.”
The girl at his side opened her mouth, clearly expecting an invitation. She didn’t get one.
Taehyung didn’t even look back as he followed you through the crowd, shoulder to shoulder, close enough that he could smell your perfume and could feel the heat of your body. Warm, sweet, dangerous.
The improvised counter— which some friends had paid for the cheap bartender to have any drink they wanted— next to the stairs was sticky and loud and packed, but somehow it felt like the two of you carved out your own space.
You leaned over the counter. “Four shots of tequila.”
“Two,” Taehyung corrected, low and calm.
You glanced at him. “Scared?”
He smirked. “Don’t get crazy. We have all night.”
That earned him a laugh, short and sharp. You liked that kind of exchange, he could tell.
The bartender slid the glasses over. You grabbed yours immediately, clinking it against his.
“To having all night,” you said.
Taehyung held your gaze. “To take our time.”
You took the shot without breaking eye contact. It burned but you didn’t flinch.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, then glanced at him sideways. “So, how’ve you been?.”
“Good,” he answered. Not really interested in making small talk. “I heard about your breakup.”
“Um,” You hummed, already looking past it. “Everyone did.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?” you replied lightly. “It ended. Now I’m here dancing.”
There was something deliberate in the way you dismissed it, like you refused to give it weight. Taehyung respected that, and he wanted to push anyway. But he didn’t, not yet. He asked for more tequila.
“Now you’re taking shots.”
You tiltled your head, studying him now. “Who was that girl you were with?”
He blinked. “What girl?”
“The one desperately touching your arm like it might save her life.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “No idea.”
“Liar. And rude for not inviting her to take shots with us.” You shook your head. “She looked mad.”
“Honestly,” he said, voice dropping, “I wasn’t paying attention.” For the first time, your eyes lingered on him a second longer than necessary. Taehyung tried not to look so impressed. “And the guy you were dancing with?” he asked casually. “Your date? He seemed… eager.”
You smiled, slow and unimpressed. “He was fine.” You didn’t confirm if he was your date which he knew it was on purpose to leave him guessing.
You leaned closer, elbows on the counter, invading his space on purpose now. “Why? You’re going to tell Jungkook?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Should I?”
Your lips twitched. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“If I end up fucking him tonight.”
The air between you tightened. The music faded into background noise. Taehyung didn’t like the way you would do anything to get Jungkook’s attention, your ex boyfriend. He leaned in just enough that only you could hear him.
“Why don’t you find someone who can do a better job?”
“You don’t know—”
“He looked pathetic.”
Your eyes narrowed. Your lips moved to his ear, you were playing something he hadn’t see in you before. Not with him. “And who could a better job?.”
Taehyung was aware you knew what he would answer. You were daring him, provoking him. And he was never one to back down.
“I know I could.”
Your smile sharpened, in a mean, interested way. “Big words,” you said. “From someone I’ve barely noticed.”
“That is your mistake,” he replied.
You laughed again, but this time it was quieter. A little out of it.
You grabbed the second shots and slid it toward him. “Careful,” you murmured. “I’m drinking too much and you’re starting to look like your best friend who dumped me.”
He picked up the glass, ignoring your mean words. “You asked for shots.”
You clinked glasses again. When you purred down, neither of you looked away.
The shots kept coming.
You ordered them like it was muscle memory, like the night wasn’t already tilting slightly off its axis. Taehyung didn’t stop you. If anything, he encouraged it, slid the glasses closer, nudged your elbow with his, leaned in so his voice landed warm against your ear.
“You’re trouble,” he murmured after two more shots, smiling like it was a compliment.
“You say that like it’s new information,” you replied, already lifting the glass.
The tequila burned less this time. Or maybe you were just numb to it. You laughed when it hit, head tipping back slightly, throat exposed for half a second too long.
Taehyung’s eyes track the movement without shame. And he thought how his hand would look around it, how he would squeeze it enough to make you let out a sweet noise for him. His eyes narrowed, he licked his lips, watching your lower lip get wet with alcohol. He wanted to licked you clean, taste your mouth. He could just leaned in and kiss you, devour you. It could be so simple if he just…
“You always look like this when you drink?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“Like someone I want to ruin.”
You snorted, not really feeling it. “You’re embarrassing.”
“I’m honest,” he corrected.
His hand brushed your lower back, not lingering, not innocent either. Just enough to make a point. He wanted you, badly. You didn’t move away, and that alone felt like permission.
Then you tilted your head, eyes sharp despite the alcohol. “You remember I just broke up with one of your best friends, right?”
There it was.
The line in the sand.
Taehyung didn’t even pretend to think about it. He smiled, slow and unapologetic.
“When has that ever stopped me?”
The words settled between you two, heavy and wrong and charged.
He knew exactly what he was in that moment. A bad friend, a worse idea. The kind of man people warn you about after the fact. He should feel guilt clawing at his chest, loyalty screaming louder than want. Instead, all he felt was hunger. It was stupid how badly he wanted you. Embarrassing, really. Like a craving that had been denied for so long it had turned feral. He wanted you quietly, patiently, from a distance, he had watched you choose someone else, watched his friend fumbled you like he didn’t know what he had.
If he were smarter, he’d have known.
Taehyung knew, he knew the moment Jungkook left you out of his claws for a second any man would try to have his hands on you— including him. And the worst thing was, Taehyung knew something so sad. He knew his best friend was probably in bed now, thinking about you, about how to get you back, about how bad he got it for screwing things with you. Taehyung didn’t need to heart it, didn’t need to know. If he did maybe a tiny drop of guilt could have formed in his stomach. But he preferred to play blind. If his friend never told him he missed you, how he screwed up… then Taehyung couldn’t feel guilty about wanting to have you.
And he knew he could do better. He knew Jungkook could brag about you, about how good he was at everything. In sports, in music, in dancing… in touching you. In making you feel good. Taehyung hated that thought, he didn’t like it at all. Because if he knew one thing about you, is that he could make you feel better than anyone. He knew he’d worship you in all the ways his friend never thought of.
The thought made something dark and possessive curled in his stomach.
And you just laughed, not nervous, not impressed. Just amused.
“You’re evil, Taehyung.” You said, shaking your head. “Truly.”
And the way you said his name. God, the world was just being so unfair to him.
“Maybe,” he replied softly, “but you haven’t left yet.”
You didn’t argue.
More shots came. The party grew louder, messier, bodies packed tight, sweat and bass and spilled alcohol everywhere. Taehyung felt untouchable, dangerous, like the world had narrowed down to the curve of your mouth and the way you kept leaning into him without realizing it.
Eventually, you sighed and push off the bar. “I need the bathroom.”
“I’ll wait.”
He watched you walk away. Every step. The sway of your hips, the confidence in your body, the way heads turned as you passed. His thoughts spiralled fast and ugly. He imagined you alone in the mirror, fixing your lipstick, steadying yourself. He imagined himself going behind you and pushing that little skirt you were wearing to your waist, his fingers touching you in your sweetest places, the places you liked. He imagined the way your lips would part and the noises you would make…
His train of dirty thoughts stopped.
The man who you were dancing early passed by his side, walking to the bathroom you entered. Taehyung watched him hesitate for half a second before opening the door and close it behind him.
Something snapped in him, something deep and violent.
And he was moving before logic caught up.
The bathroom door swung open and the scene was almost painfully normal. You were at the sink, leaning forward slightly, fixing your hair. The man stood too close, saying something in your ear you clearly didn’t care about. But he had his hands on your waist, and Taehyung didn’t like that at all.
Who the fuck did he think he was to touch you like that?
Taehyung grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back out into the hall without ceremony. “Get out.”
“What the—”
“Bye.”
The door slammed shut in his face, Taehyung locked the door before turning to you.
You whirled around. “What the hell are you doing?”
Your voice echoed off the tiles, sharp and incredulous. You didn’t look scared or furious, but slightly annoyed at him for the scene. Your eyes narrowed, you were drunk. And so was he.
Your eyes flashed. “And if I did? That’s not your problem.”
The words hit him like a slap. He stepped closer. “You can do better.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I already have,” he shrugged. “Or do you want me to bring him back inside so he can give you a lame fuck?.”
You scoffed, pushing past him slightly, chin lifted in challenge. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked. “Can you stop pretending you’re something of mine?.”
“Can you stop pretending you don’t want this to happen?.” he snapped, gesturing between you two. “We both know you’re now just full of shit.”
You laughed in his face, sharp. “You don’t know anything about me if you think I wanna fuck you.”
“Please, you didn’t leave my side all night. You had been waiting for me to make a move.”
Taehyung knew he was playing a dangerous game. But he liked his odd. He liked to play with you. And he knew one thing: It had been the first time you had entertained him after all his attempts of trying to get you.
So he had to be right. He wanted to be right.
Your jaw tightened. “If I wanted to fuck you, I would have done it a long time ago.” You got closer to him. Your nose almost inches from touching his face. You looked up to him. You were so close he could feel your breath. “Why do you think I went for Jungkook and not you?.”
Your words landed, heavy and deliberate, and for a second the only sound in the bathroom was the muffled music bleeding through the walls, the buzz of voices outside, the drip of a leaky faucet.
Taehyung didn’t move, didn’t back away. He looked down at you like he was trying to memorize your face.
“Because you like playing safe,” he said finally, voice low and deep, almost calm. Too calm. “Easy choice. Someone you didn’t have to think about too much.”
You scoffed, but you didn’t pull back. “And you think you’re what? Complicated?”
“I think,” he started, leaning in just enough that your lips almost brush when he spoke, “you didn’t want to want me. Because we both know, once I’m done with you, you won’t stop thinking about it.”
That did it.
Something shifted in your expression, annoyance giving way to something sharper, more dangerous. You tilted your head, smirk slow and cruel.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you murmured. “You’re not special. You just have a deep voice and recently got jacked.”
Taehyung huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. His hand came up, bracing against the sink beside you, boxing you in without touching you. The proximity was intentional, claimed.
“Funny,” he said. “For someone who doesn’t want me, you’re not trying very hard to leave.”
You glanced down, then back up at him through your lashes. “Maybe I just like watching you make a pathetic man of yourself.”
He hummed. “Or maybe, maybe you like when I look at you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’ve been waiting all night to get you alone.”
Taehyung can see the way your eyes quickly moved to his mouth against your will. And he knew you hated that he noticed it.
“You’re obsessed,” you muttered, trying to get some control.
“Yeah,” he said easily. “With you.”
The word hung there, unashamed and unapologetic.
You swallowed, jaw tightening again. “You’re a terrible friend.”
“I know,” Taehyung replied, eyes never leaving yours. “And I still want you.”
You tried to step back but your lower back hit the sink. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt without permission, like your body betrayed you before your mouth could keep up. And you tried to blame it on the way you destabilized yourself when you tried to step back. You realized too late Taehyung was already enjoying the motion.
His gaze dropped to your hand and then back to your eyes.
“There,” he murmured. “That.”
You tried to pull your hand back. He didn’t let you, not grabbing, just stepping closer so there was nowhere for it to go. Your legs were squeezing together. His jeans rasping your bare legs. His torso brushing your chest, heat radiating, tension coiled tight between you.
“Say it again,” he said softly.
“Say what?”
“That you don’t want me.”
You opened your mouth.
And this time nothing came out.
Taehyung exhaled, slow and controlled, like he was reached the edge of his restraint. His hand lifted, grabbing your chin in his fingers without delicacy and tilting your face up.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
You did.
And when he kissed you, it was brutal.
It wasn’t soft or careful. Taehyung’s mouth crashed into yours like he was done pretending he had any restraint, like every thought he had swallowed all night finally snapped. It was messy, hungry, teeth knocking just slightly before it settled into something deeper and slow. His mouth tasting every place of yours, trying to memorize every single part of your mouth.
His hands were everywhere over your body at first, brushing them over your face and waist before one gripped your jaw, thumb pressing just enough to make you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed instantly. The other slid down your waist, firm, claiming and possessive, fingers digging in like he was afraid you’ll disappear if he let go. He crowded you back against the sink, body heat pinning you there, not gentle about it.
You made a sound, low, surprised, mad. Like you had woken up from the enchanted of the kiss. You bit his lower lip, trying to push him away. Taehyung groaned against your lips like it was exactly what he wanted.
“Fuck,” he muttered, barely pulling back, forehead resting against yours. His breath was hot, uneven. “You feel this and still wanna lie to me?”
Before you could answer, he kissed you again.
Deeper and slower this time. Like he had decided to savor it. His mouth moved with intent, like he knew exactly how to pull a reaction out of you, how to make your hands fist in his shirt, how to make your knees go weak even while you were trying to stay mad.
Your fingers slid up his neck, nails scraping just enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. His grip tightened in response, hand slipping up your back, flattening you to him. There was no space left, no room to think.
The bathroom felt too small, it buzzed from the music outside. The mirror caught the movement, your bodies pressed together, his head tilted down, yours tipped back slightly, lips swollen, breath ruined.
Taehyung pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were dark, blown out, jaw tight like he was holding himself back from doing something much worse. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, slow, possessive.
“Okay. Now tell me to stop if you really want me to.”
You wanted to say something sharp, something mean.
Instead, you grabbed him again and kissed him back, harder and needy. And Taehyung let out a sound that was pure satisfaction as he kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life to finally have you, like he had been starving and you were the only thing that could ever fix it.
The fact that now you wanted him too made his heart beat like it was about to jump out of his chest.
Taehyung wanted to take it slow. Show you how good he could be for you, even though you had been so mean to him. But he couldn’t wait. He didn’t want to wait for you to change your mind. And as much as he wanted to have your mouth over his till the end of times, it took everything in him to pushed back enough to look at you in the eyes. His hands roaming all over your body before they settled in your waist.
God, he wanted to ruin you so bad.
You looked so good for him. Your hair messy, your lips swollen and red, your cheeks blushed, your eyes dark and lustful. For him, only for him. You were practically begging him to act up, looking like that. You were sinful.
“What are you doing?,” you asked breathily when he didn’t move.
Taehyung looked at you. “I want you to say it.”
“Say what?.”
“Say you want me.”
You titled your head, confused. You had finally accepted him and he was trying to make you say it out loud?. You didn’t know if you should’ve been mad or horny.
“Are you serious?.
“Say it,” he said. His voice deeper, firmer. “Say it and I’ll take care of you.”
You went silent, just for a second before looking at him prettily. “I want you.”
“Say it correctly.”
“I want you, Taehyung.”
You weren’t ashamed, you didn’t look shy or regretful. It was like it caused you satisfaction to say those words. Maybe because you knew the effect that you had on him.
And the way you said his name, the way your voice went so sweet, almost pouty... needy. Taehyung was only a man after all. And you had a way to make his head spin in the wrong ways. You gave him a smile that seemed like you were just begging him to ruin you. Taehyung didn’t think of him as a strong willed man. He could see you looking at him like that and it was game over for him.
With a hand on your chin, he leaned in to give you a sweet kiss. He thought of all the ways that he would ruin you that night. The way you finally wanted him like that too. He wanted to burn his taste inside your mouth. He wanted you to be full of him in every way you could be. Just him, nobody else, not your ex boyfriend, not that man you were dancing with him. His, only his. And he knew that once he was done with you… you would come back for him, for more.
God, he was going insane.
His lips moved to your jaw, kissing down to your neck with desire, sucking hard and not caring whether or not it bruised. He imagined for a second how Jungkook would react to it. If tomorrow he showed up to your house, asking you to take him back only to find you covered in Taehyung’s marks. The thought made him rolled his eyes back, pleasure building in his stomach, making him rock hard. He wanted you more than words could let you know. He turned to marking you to show you just how bad he craved you, how much you were now his.
His right hand hovered over your body, slowly making his way between your thighs. You were so sweet for him, slowly opening your legs to give him better access. To invite him to touch you. He kissed your mouth as a reward, you were so obedient. Taehyung liked it, like the way you would do whatever you wanted to have your pleasure, to get off. He liked the way you choose him tonight, only him, to trust him with it.
He wasn’t going to disappoint you.
Taehyung ran his index finger through your folds over the cloth. He moaned into your neck, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your soaked panties. God, you were going to kill him. Have you been wet all night? or did he make you feel like this just now?. He couldn’t wait to put his mouth there between your legs. It was so soaked through that he could feel the outline of your pussy perfectly. He pushed his index finger just barely into your hole, feeling your panties scrunch up into it.
He pulled away to catch his breath, eyes full of lust as he watched your face contort with pleasure from his touch.
“You like that?,” Taehyung whispered in your mouth. His voice deeper, it made you clenched into nothing. “I’m going to touch you, okay?. I’m going to make you feel so good.”
His eyes were dark and blown out. He pulled your panties down just barely, letting them sit below your hip bones while he kissed your chin. He was agonizingly slow as he pulled further and further, not daring to reveal your cunt until you were desperate enough to say it out loud.
“Tae—”
“Yeah,” he nodded at you. “I like how you say my name like that, so pretty.” He kissed your mouth, hard, sweetly. “You’re so pretty. So, so pretty for me.”
His fingers found your clit. You melted into the feeling, sighing in relief. Your hips twitched closer to his hand, making sure he won’t leave so soon.
“Yes, please.”
He stopped, making you whined.
Taehyung swallowed the noise, his cock twitching in his pants. Then he kissed you hard, tongue sliding in your mouth to prove how much he wanted you, messy, dirty. It felt perverted how much he wanted to have your mouth in his all the time. But he had a mission.
“Fuck, fuck.” He gave you a last peck before slowly kneeling. “Say please again.” You groaned and his fingers circled your clit again, this time with more intention. You bit your lip as he watched you trying to contain your pretty sounds. “Say it. Ask nicely, baby. And don’t bite your lips, I wanna hear you.”
You let a breathy moan, opening your legs wider while looking at him. “Please, Tae.”
“Please what, baby?.”
“Please touch me.”
“So sweet,” he kissed and bit your inner thighs. “So, so sweet for me. God, you’re so hot, baby. Gonna make you feel good. Wanna hear you, okay?. Make me hear you.”
Taehyung was so desperate, he felt feral. He almost was sure he could cry of joy. He had waited for so long, so patiently. You’ve finally broken, you finally wanted him back. You were finally spreading your pretty legs for him to touch you, to make you feel better. His cock was straining against his pants, he could feel his pre cum leaking profusely from his tip, but he ignored it completely to focus on you.
His hands quickly moved your skirt higher, leaving him a good sight of your cunt. He tried not to lose control, sliding your panties to the ground and taking them off before saving them in his pocket. He could moan from the sight. Your glistening cunt, so sweet and waiting for him.
Taehyung rubbed your slit and gathered your arousal on his fingers. You gasped as he glided his fingers across your clit, playing with the swollen bud for a minute, wanting to get you soaking before he stretched you out, before he could taste you. He circled his finger around your entrance, teasingly applying pressure just to watch you squirmed. He felt good, having you like that.
Even if he was on his knees he felt like he had the power. He was going to make sure you would come crying back to him every night asking for his touch, desperate, needy for him and no one else.
He dipped a finger into your hole, stopping once he was knuckle-deep. He fucked his long finger into you slowly, and you sighed at the relief. He watched his finger sink into you, humming in pleasure when he saw how it collected your wetness. Taehyung didn’t ask before he was inserting another one, already feeling your walls clenching at him for dear life. His fingers were so long, so mean, stuffing you so deep and full. He couldn’t wait to have his cock burry inside you. The stretch would feel like heaven, and he knew you were craving to be stuffed by him.
Taehyung increased his pace a little more, curling his fingers up. It took him a minute to find what he was looking for, but he knew he got it when you whined and your leg kicked out helplessly. It didn’t take you too long to put it around his shoulder, Taehyung hold it steady, gripping your fat thigh. You held yourself for dear life to the sink behind you. He kept pressing into that spot, curling his fingers up to hit it every time, relishing in the garbled moans that spill out of your mouth.
You arched your back and yelp at the sensation of him pressing against the spongy part inside of you roughly. He grinned and kept thrusting against that spot, watching your reactions with amused eyes. His head moved down between your thighs, biting and sucking at all the flesh his mouth could find.
And then he wrapped his lips around your clit once he grew tired of marking you.
“Tae— Ngh… shit.”
Taehyung could come from just your taste and your sweet sounds. He was sure of it.
His eyes almost rolled back at how much you were clamping down on him, his wet fingers making dirty noises of how hard he was fucking them inside you, wet sounds filling the buzz in the room. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to taste you correctly.
With a final hard suck on your clit, he took his fingers out of your entrance before eating you out properly. Taehyung thought you were such a dream when you were mewling and panting like that, eager for him. He licked you like you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. At first very slow, dragging his tongue flat and firm to savour you and memorize you with his tongue. And then focusing in on your clit with a rhythmic flick that had your whole body jerking. He knew how to make you jump in pleasure now, and he loved knowing it.
Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft dark strands as you moaned shamelessly. He liked you like that, shameless, breakable.
His tongue moved down to your fluttering entrance, and his stomach clenched when he realized how empty you must feel for him. Taehyung couldn’t wait to fuck you, have you stuffed of him. But first, he stuffed his tongue inside you, making sure his nose stayed pressed against your clit. He moaned at your juices dripping on his taste buds and the way you tried to tighten around his tongue. He licked and rubbed at you as much as he could, determined to get his fill of your arousal.
Taehyung could swear he could cum untouched if he hadn’t waited so long for you to finally gave in. He swore he could die between your legs, his mouth on your cunt, sucking and lapping, moaning into your heat like he had found water after being thirsty. He was making the most unholiest, nasty dirty noises like it was a fucking heaven for him. And it was, it was a dream.
Taehyung was going insane.
Everything faded into a lofty state of bliss while he hungrily ate you out without taking a break, consumed with the urge to swallow you whole. He relished in the way you grabbed onto his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he barely pulled back for air all while he devoured you. The way you were squirming and rubbing yourself in his tongue and nose was a sight to behold, one that caused him to chase the friction that he earned when his aching, neglected cock rubbed in his pants, almost humping the air like a dog in heat.
You moaned, pulling him back by the hair. His mouth, nose and chin covered in your juices, he looked crazy drunk of you. He was crazy drunk of you.
“Tae—”
“Want you to cum on my mouth,” he tried to go back in but you pulled his hair harder.
“Taehyung fuck me already, please.”
Taehyung was sure you were a witch.
His cock jumped in his pants. In less than two seconds he was already standing up, badly cleaning his face with his shirt before stamping his lips into yours and kissing you hard. You moaned at your own taste. His kiss was messy, he wanted to show you how much he wanted you. How dirty and perverted he was for you.
You jolted when you felt his teeth on your jaw and neck, biting down and sucking hard. It made your hips push forward, and he moaned against you. His hard on poking at your thigh angrily, he start rubbing himself on you. Taehyung started to suck at your neck. the pressure was light, but enough to leave some marks. You played with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan.
Taehyung pushed you harder to the sink, unbuckling his jeans and shoving them down with his underwear to the ground. His cock jumped out. His tip was red and angry, leaking pre cum. Taehyung was big, and veiny. He saw the way your eyes narrowed down, as if you wanted to kneel and put it in your mouth.
Before he could stop you, you were already wrapping your hand around him. Your thumb brushed his tip, collecting the pre cum before passing it around his length. He groaned, closing his eyes and his head dropping to your shoulder while you started pumping his cock so sweet and softly. Like you were taking your time to make him suffer.
“You’re so big.” You said so sweetly, like you weren’t doing the nastiest shit ever. As if you didn’t make him have the dirtiest thoughts about you. “Your cock is so pretty, Tae.”
Your fingers could barely wrapped around his cock, your hand was hot and felt so good around him. Your long nails looked so pretty around him, so feminine, so in place. Shit, Taehyung knew wasn’t going to last much. You felt too good, You were so good for him, touching him like that. So sweet making him lost in pleasure. Your soft hands making him feel so—
Taehyung snapped open his eyes.
No, you weren’t the one that was supposed to have control. He promised he was going to make you feel good.
He took your hand out, softly, to not make you angry. He wrapped it around his cock and moved to give him space between your legs.
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he whispered in your ear. “I want you to take it, okay?. Gonna take what I give you.” The head of his cock brushed your clit and it made your thighs jolt. “I’m gonna fuck you the way I want. Got it?” You quickly nodded. He grabbed your jaw with hardness, his gripped in your thigh around his waist was leaving a bruise. “Say it.”
“Yes,” you breathed out.
“Yes, what?” he gathered your arousal on his cock as he waited for your answer, sliding his tip through your folds, your juices coating all his length. And then his tip hit your clit angrily, so good it made you rolled your eyes for a second.
Your head was spinning, and you knew you shouldn’t let it happen, but fuck, you need it too. So badly. “Yes, yes. I’ll take it. Everything.” You whined. “Just fuck me already,” you caved, arching your back invitingly.
“Say please,” he teased.
“Taehyung—”
“Say it.”
“Mmm. Please, please, please…”
Taehyung gripped your thigh and slammed into you, hips snapping forward with a force that punched the air from your lungs. Your back arched, toes curling as the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. You felt so good, Taehyung hissed and dropped his forehead to your shoulder, pushing forward and brutally the last bit that wasn’t able to fit. It was rough, almost a little painful. He tried to held your legs open so he could try to press his hips flush against yours. You both groaned at the feeling, needing a minute to adjust.
Taehyung felt like heaven. He tried to think about the music outside, the buzz, the dirty bathroom and all the germs, the terrible dancers, the disgusting shots… he wanted to think other that wasn’t your cunt choking his cock so needing. No, he couldn’t. You were burning. You were wrapped around him so warm, so delicious. He could feel his thighs tensing, his grip in your skin tightened. You were so good, so perfect, your walls were swallowing him whole.
“Shit, so good. You— you feel so good.” Taehyung stuttered. He pulled out just a couple inches and rammed himself back in. You cried in his ear, feeling so deliciously full, it was almost overwhelming. “Yes, yes. Shit, you sound so sweet, baby. Tell me, tell me how much you like it.”
“S-so good. You feel so good.”
Oh. He was going to make a mess out of you.
Taehyung slammed his hips into yours harder, meaner. His tip touching the spongy spot it made you almost whimpered. His hand pressed hard in your lower tummy, making you squeeze him harder. Making you feel him completely inside you.
“Gonna fuck you so fucking good, you’re gonna keep coming back for more.” You could barely breathe, barely think. His cock was hitting every sensitive spot inside you, your clit throbbing from how hard he was diving into you. “Gonna make you beg for it, just how you made me do it for years.”
He reached down, thumb finding your clit again, rubbing fast circles that made your whole body spasmed under him.
“Wait, w-wait, s’too much…” You stuttered, jaw dropping open with a gasp as he pounded into you without a care.
He gripped your hair, pulling your head back, your lips meeting in a hot, messy kiss. You were practically drooling with the way his cock was abusing your cunt. He was meaner, he was trying to prove something.
Your head fell back as he continued fucking you angrily. His mouth bit your already bruised throat, marking your skin as his.
“I told you, you’ll take what I give you.” He growled, his voice rough, wrecked. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be stretched, filled— fucked properly?” You shook your head, teeth biting down into your bottom lip roughly to suppress your moans. He chuckled dryly, moving his hips a little faster as he fucked you. “You were gonna choose a lame guy to what? Seek attention from your loser ex? You’re so pathetic, baby.” Taehyung felt on cloud nine, he couldn’t stop taking, couldn’t stop fucking you. “But it’s okay now. I’ll take care of it. Gonna make you dumb, huh? Gonna make you so dumb you won’t be thinking about him anymore.”
“Mhm, don’t stop,” you whined, pulling his hair.
“Did he touch you better than this?” He slammed his hips harder into you. “I’ll make you forget about him. This greedy cunt is mine now. Got it? He’ll probably be back begging for you to take him back,” his grip on you were bruising now. His thrusts came fast, filthy, brutal, skin slapping, breath ragged. “But you’ll be dripping and covered in me. Only me, baby— Only me. Won’t let you— won’t let you go one day without my cum, okay?. That fucking loser won’t have you, huh? He doesn’t deserve you… tell me you won’t take him back.”
You shook your head, “I won’t.”
“Say my name. Promise me you won’t take him back.”
“I won’t— I won’t take him back,” you whined, too drunk of him. “I promise, I promise, Tae.”
Taehyung was sure you didn’t know what you were saying, what he was making you say. Too drunk on him, too of a whore for his cock hitting the right places.
He rubbed your puffy clit faster. “That’s right. Y-you are gonna be crawling back to me, pretty. And I’ll fuck you like this. I’m the only— I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. Mm, shit— s’good. I should’ve been pumping this pretty cunt with cum every single day…”
Taehyung was already pounding you dizzy. And he felt his lower stomach tightened.
He knew he shouldn’t be so reckless. He should sprayed his cum on your thighs or in his hand. He knew that, but your cunt was sucking him in so tightly and so delicious that the only thing he could think of was his cum rushing deep inside of you. Consequences be damned, he thought. He’ll cum inside of you if he fucking wanted to.
You were his now, you looked so gorgeous only for him. He continued thrusting into you hard, never pulling out more than halfway, letting you take him deep inside your cunt. “oh my god, don’t stop,” you urged, nails digging into his neck and shoulders.
You were close. Taehyung felt your walls squeezing him harder. He moaned in your neck, you were sucking him so hard it was too much. He rubbed your clit desperately, helping you find your release. It didn’t take you too long to do so. Your high hit you like a truck, your nails scrapped his shoulder, your mouth parting to moan loudly. You closed your eyes, walls closing so hard and your juices coating his cock. Your vision went blurry, your breathing uneven.
Taehyung’s cock twitched inside you. His eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your skin as he heard your whimper. That hit his final straw, his forehead hit your shoulder as he felt succumbing to the sweet release. He didn’t even as he came undone, ropes and ropes of hot cum filling up your sloppy cunt and spurting down onto your thighs.
He was unrelenting, keeping you within the throes of orgasmic bliss with his cock plunging inside of you over and over again. You tried to push him away, whining overstimulated, but he didn’t let you. He needed it so bad, and so much more he kept slowly rutting into you, his cock softening inside you as he allowed himself to keep going. The overstimulation was getting to him, teeth sinking back into his lip as he tried to contain his whiny moans until his legs twitched, his eyes fill with tears and his cock ached asking him to stop, even if he didn’t want to.
It took you both a couple of minutes to catch your breath and come back to reality. The buzz of the music and noise outside hitting you back to reality. Taehyung felt you trying to push him away again, maybe to clean yourselves and go back outside. Finishing whatever had happened there.
But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want it to the end just yet.
Taehyung pulled apart, giving you a soft kiss before sliding out of you. You let a breathy moan, feeling your cunt expelling his cum and pulsating hard, very sensitive. He didn’t give you time to react before he was kneeling again, opening your legs apart to watch your pussy clenching at the tingling sensation of his cum dripping down.
His mouth was salivating at the sight. And he thought it was perfect. That is perfect. He wanted to see you covered in him. Your cunt puffy and swollen, overstimulated and asking for mercy. He wanted to give you all he had to offer to you. He wanted you to take it all, even if you couldn’t not more.
“What are you doing?” You asked him, voice raspy and dragging it. He looked at you, dark gaze and starry eyes. “Don’t do— Mmhg, Tae, fuck!.”
His mouth was on you in an instant, tongue lapping up the mess he had uncovered like he didn’t care about anything else. His eyes rolled back at the taste, eating his own cum from your cunt. The first swipe was slow, tasting every bit of the slick coating your folds. He thought it was the perfect taste, the perfect meal. Both of you dripping from your hole.
The next one was rougher, hungrier, tongue pressing deeper as he groaned into your heat. He wanted nothing more than that.
“Wait, wait. too much, s’too much, please…” You cried out.
You tried to pushed him away, you were too sensitive, he could tell. Your lips were swollen and your clit was so puffy and red. You were so cute, so sensitive, so weak. But Taehyung liked it, you couldn’t do anything than just take it. He gripped at you stronger, making you wrapped your leg around his shoulder and holding you in place as he licked you clean, every part of you dirty heat getting clean with his mean tongue.
Your back arched and he was sure that was the best view. Watching you break apart, legs open, back arched, trembling and moaning for him, in his tongue. Accepting your fate. Not being able to push him away, too week to fight. You just had to take it and enjoy it.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to have you like that again. Stuffed by him, lying in his bed, in his sofa. Against his walls, in his kitchen counter. Taehyung was sure that wouldn’t be the last time. There was no way he could spent more than a week not tasting you, not feeling your heat in his face. Not being deep inside you. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. He wouldn’t have it that way.
Taehyung got sloppy with it, getting more into it. He didn’t care about how messy he got, lips and chin completely covered of your juices but he loved it. He practically drowned himself between your thighs, gripping them so tightly as if he was afraid you’ll slip away. But you weren’t, you really couldn’t. He was holding you open for him.
He pressed your thighs harder and pulled slightly apart. Your head quickly moved to look at him, exasperated, you looked troubled. Maybe trying to stop him, maybe looking for your next release. You were so pretty. Taehyung looked up at you and his cock twitched in his pants, dying to get hard again for you. You were a mess, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face red and your lips pouty. You were so cute, so overstimulated, so sensitive. Taehyung could come from that sight. He was so drunk of you, chin full of your juices and swollen lips. He thought you were the prettiest like that, ruined by him.
He dived back, his head back into your cunt, his eyes still glued to yours as he sucked on your clit, hard and mad. And it didn’t take you too much to come undone. He didn’t look away, not even when you sobbed and rubbed into his mouth desperate. He didn’t look away when he drank all your juices, and he didn’t look away when he cleaned you up like a starved man.
“S-stop! Please, please, Taehyung, stop—”
You tried to pull him away from you by his hair, your grip so weak he could just push your hands away and dive back into you. But he didn’t, he wasn’t that mean. Not when you look so pretty fucked up, begging for mercy.
God, you were so fucked. So ruined by him. He loved it. He loved it so much. You were a piece of art he had made.
You were still catching your breath, thighs trembling, almost sobbing and tears falling down your cheeks when Taehyung kissed you again, deep and dirty, like he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was sloppy, messy. He thrusted his tongue into your mouth so he could make you taste everything. Him, you.
He wanted to engraved himself into you forever.
Taehyung pulled apart, and held you softly between his arms, letting you come back to reality. It took a couple of minutes, voices barging outside to hurry up because someone wanted to use the bathroom. He barely cared about it. His hands grabbing your face to watch you, cleaning your dry tears with his thumb and making you look at his eyes with your now dumb gaze.
“You’re okay, baby?” He brushed your cheek sweetly. “I’m gonna clean you up now, okay? Just talk to me.”
“Uhm,” you nodded weakly. “Just need a second.”
Taehyung chuckled, watching you try to act tough. “It’s okay, take all the time you need.”
When you were able to stood by yourself, Taehyung cleaned himself quickly before grabbing some paper to start cleaning your thighs with delicacy, softly.
There was a silence. Taehyung was stretching the time cleaning you. Like he didn’t want to break the bubble you were both in. Because he didn’t. He didn’t want you to leave him. He didn’t want you to let go yet. It felt too soon. I felt wrong. He just wanted to take you back home, put you in his bed so you could rest and then fuck you again and again the next day. And the day after that, and the day after that too…
You hummed, trying to get his attention. “Tae,” you called. He watched you from below, gaze softer. Your eyes weren’t so bright now. Now a little more grounder and sober than before. “We can’t tell Jungkook about this.”
Taehyung stopped breathing for a second. It felt like the little bubble you were both in had exploded. His blood burned hot all over his body. Why were you even thinking about him now? It pissed him off. A minute ago you were shaking and crying for him and now you were thinking about Jungkook?.
He wanted to fuck you stupid again. Make you beg and cry for making him mad. Make you ask for forgiveness. Make you suffer a little for him…
His phone buzzed in his pants pocket.
Taehyung took it, almost too aggressively, to find a lot of missing calls and messages.
Jungkook: arrived at the party
Jungkook: where are you?
Jungkook: do you know if she’s here?
second part with jungkook: better than him
idk what’s wrong with me and these nasty ass one shots but everytime i smoke is like i can’t write more angst but only porn 😓😓
this was nasty ashellll i’m so sorry. i feel like i have to confess my sins to god or something
