#arirang

[hiredars0nist]

first wae of the new era

[ly-singularity]

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha-hooligan!

designed some photocards as freebies for tour - see ya in standford, vegas and los angeles!

[taee]

260321 BTS The Comeback Live | ARIRANG: 'Aliens' - Taehyung

[yoongikook]

sittin' on the shore, now I'm ready for the whole sea

[macchuu-7]

𑣲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 — j.jk ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

synopsis .✦ ݁˖ you work as the manager of bts whilst also being a diehard army in secret and having the biggest and fattest crush on jeon jungkook ⊹ ࣪ ˖

or

jungkook's heart softens when he almost passes out on stage and you are there to help ⊹ ࣪ ˖

pairing .✦ ݁˖ jeon jungkook x f!reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings / troupes .✦ ݁˖ idol!jk x manager!reader, fluff, eventual smut, clingy jk (lowkey giving attachment issues) if you squint HARD, praising, grinding, big dick jk, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, dominant jk, jk whines and whimpers, playfully subtle degradation, solo masturbation, slice of life kinda, alcohol, smoking, tipsy sex ⊹ ࣪ ˖

word count .✦ ݁˖ 12.0K ⊹ ࣪ ˖

a/n .✦ ݁˖ this is my first time writing smut and publishing anything at all so please be kind!! english is not my first language too so sorry for any spelling mistakes :') i listened to damned — miguel on repeat while writing this ughhh it just reminds me of this fic so much. // slightly inspired by @gguksprincess fics her stories are scrumptious go check her out! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

your life is the best it's ever been.

ever since you were a teenager, you were utterly obsessed with bts, a boy band from all the way in korea.

you discovered their music from your best friend, mira. she had been an army way longer than you, and at first, you despised that. the girl couldn't stop talking about how sweet they are and how much meaning their songs hold. it was repetitive. it was annoying. why would you listen to your homegirl boast about seven random men?

that was until you first heard a song of theirs.

"tomorrow" played from mira's phone after she hit 'play' on her main playlist whilst you two were preparing a project for school. at first, you pretended not to care, nails swiftly tapping the keyboard of your laptop as you researched a topic you couldn't concentrate on. then, after two songs, it was "house of cards," and then "we on," and you knew you were doomed.

they opened a whole new world to you with their music. not a single western artist could compare to the wave of shivers that'd run down your spine whenever you closed your eyes and slipped your wired earphones deep near your eardrums, blasting their songs at max volume.

this still happens now, except you are an adult and you have a constant income to fund your excessive spending on merch and albums. it's a little embarrassing to say the least—the beige walls of your room are decorated with bts photocards and posters, the shelves have more albums stacked than books, and there's even a kooky plush resting by your pink heart pillow.

and the best thing is?

you see bts every single day.

you work as their artist manager, meaning you are often responsible for managing schedules, coordinating with the company, handling emergencies, and much, much, much more.

you never thought you'd become one—you started off as a company intern, anyway.

people of higher responsibility strictly told you, "don't talk to the artists unless it's necessary," and that sounded disappointing. of course you were excited to have a chat with your favorite artists, and it was a bummer you couldn't, but when you first passed by the whole group in a hallway at big hit entertainment, it was hard not to drop all your folders on the ground.

that was it.

the moment you first made eye contact with jeon jungkook.

he was...

it's hard to find the words to describe it.

he was young and fresh, meaning—no tattoos yet, and only simple piercings hanging from his earlobes.

the look in his big doe eyes was hard to get rid of. you replayed that precise moment in your head all night and all morning the following day. you brewed coffee, and the way it swirled in your cup reminded you of him. you wore a coral cardigan that day, and the brown buttons you fastened reminded you of him.

now, seeing jungkook is not something new or extraordinary. you know him, you know him well. you know how he acts when cameras, lights, and screens aren't being pushed at his face, you know what he says when he is a hundred percent sure he doesn't have to entertain. you know him, and still, being in his presence stirs emotions at the pit of your stomach you don't know what to do about.

their arirang tour is the most stress you've had since forever. you had forgotten how exhausting your work truly is, sometimes anxious thoughts flood your mind and you start reconsidering whether this position is worth it.

those thoughts are only effective in the morning; that is, until you see bts. and suddenly, life is worth living again.

currently, you are in são paulo, watching them perform from one of the side stages. your responsibility is to monitor the performance, meaning, your eyes are constantly flicking between the members and you are reporting everything back to the production team.

you're doing a great job. especially when your eyes don't linger just a little too long on jungkook.

i mean, how could they not?

it's hard to rip them away when he appears so sexily confident and fierce on stage, the moment he slipped off his jacket to reveal his tattooed shoulder, whilst nodding at the crowd made your knees buckle. mentally, you hope, at least. how embarrassing would if it be if you, as a responsible and dependable manager, got down on your knees for jungkook in front of your whole crew and the crowd?

jesus, you can't afford to have these thoughts. anything could go wrong at any moment on stage and you wouldn't even notice.

you closely watch your bangtan boys do their "boy in luv" choreo. it's got the fans screaming and singing along, barely anyone expected this song. it's good, so good you can't help but hum along.

it takes merely a millisecond for you to notice something odd. nearing the end of the song, the member you couldn't quit staring at suddenly falls out of rhythm, stumbling over his feet and bending down lower, longer than everyone else, like his head feels too heavy to handle. you immediately straighten your posture and your mind clears of every distraction—the blinding lights, the loud screams, the music and the other members of your crew speaking in your radio earpiece—to focus on jungkook.

for some reason it feels like the longer you'll stare with your brows furrowed, biting the inside of your bottom lip, the sooner everything will return to normal. but you're wrong. jungkook stops doing the choreography. he doesn't look at anyone, he doesn't move. he stands, with his back bent over and his hands locked on his knees, tightly holding his upper body up.

the silence that fills the stadium when it's his turn to sing hits your stomach like an anvil—this is a manager's worst fear.

no,

not only that,

this is your worst fear.

it's not only about the concert having issues, it's not only about the fans being disappointed. it's about jungkook. his wellbeing. his health. how hard on himself he's been lately, how overworked he is. and you know this, because you are always there with him, in the same room, listening to him groan and sigh constantly, wishing there was something you could say or do but you are in no place to offer mental support. you are a manager, that is all, and he is but an idol to you.

sometimes, you wish the walls of your room weren't filled with his face. maybe it'd loosen the tight knot in the very center of your chest.

the voices of your crew members echo through your earpieces but you don't care enough to listen. you know what to do. you've practiced for this.

you immediately rush to the main stage and, though being in the very spotlight would normally make you flustered, it just feels like the stadium is completely empty and there is only you two on stage.

heart thudding against your sternum, you crouch in front of jungkook and look up at him just enough to try to see his face through the front pieces of his sweaty hair. his eyes are closed, his lips are parted. on the way you managed to snatch a cold water of bottle from another assistant and you offer it to him, trying to read his body or his face for clues whether he can continue to perform or not.

jungkook subtly shakes his head, it's barely noticeable, as if he's using up all his energy to do so.

before your mouth can open to ask another question, his legs almost give out and he lurches onto you. your heart skips a beat and your hands move to hold him by the shoulders in place.

fuck.

this isn't good.

you tap your earpiece and speak with a monotone voice, "jungkook is barely conscious, he might be blacking out. i'm taking him to the backstage."

two other staff members you weren't aware of hear you and help you stabilize him by throwing his arms over yours and another assistant's shoulders. the third one holds his microphone and follows you as you firmly and carefully navigate to the backstage.

you hear namjoon in the background apologizing to the crowd and explaining the situation, though he himself is not sure of what's happening.

once you reach the backstage lounge, you, with the assist of other staff, delicately sit jungkook down on the middle of a black leather sofa, positioning him so his back is comfortably leaning against the backrest. his jacket gets taken off swiftly and a museum of tattoos trailing up his arm catch your attention momentarily.

it's pure chaos. assistants and helpers run around, asking questions that don't register to you and bringing in more bottles of freezing water.

for fuck's sake, at this rate jungkook will pass out only from the lack of oxygen in this room.

you strictly order half of the people in the room to leave and direct the other half to bring tissues and wet towels.

one by one, they disappear until there's only a few staff left. it's easier to breathe like this. it's easier to speak.

you squat down in front of jungkook and ask him clearly, "what's wrong? does anything hurt?"

he shakes his head a little more evidently than last time. with him arching his throat like this, you can see his adam's apple sticking out prominently, legs spread and arms laid lazily like a sack of potatoes.

"i need you to tell me what's wrong so we can help."

for a few moments he doesn't utter a single word and chilling worry agitates in your stomach. you are so close to him you can hear, and almost feel, every deep breath enter and exit his lungs. it's hard to stay professional when your idol is pathetically sitting in front of you, too frail to even move his lips.

but after some time and patience, he finds the strength to do so. "dizzy. head's spinning. so hot in here," he mutters words you can barely hear.

you instantly report back to the crew through your earpieces.

he hunches over to you, leaning all his body weight on his knees by his forearms. this way, his face is barely a few inches from yours and you can see sweat painted all over his skin.

he's pale.

the pattern of his breathing is messed up.

you instinctively want to back away, but you don't and if anyone were to ask, you'd say that the close proximity was to hear him better.

"i'm coming back to stage in a few minutes," he slurs his words. "i just need some—"

"hell no, you're not. do you see yourself?"

fuck.

very professional.

"as your manager, i'm not letting you back in that stage until i'm sure you're completely okay."

eventually, a few members of the crew come back and hand you a box of tissues. someone is holding an automatic fan to his naked nape, someone offers him a gulp of freezing water he accepts it this time.

you begin tenderly tapping the tissues all over his skin to collect sweat.

unexpectedly, his eyelids rise.

the lack of life in his two puddles of chocolate frighten you. you've seen jungkook stressed and worked up, you've seen him mentally unwell. but physically? never. at least not like this.

he does nothing, he says nothing. he stares, and you stare back.

what is inside his head at the very moment?

jungkook hates to be a failure. you always notice how mad at himself he gets when he makes a mistake on stage, even when it's so simple and unnoticeable, no one would know if he never brought attention to it. even as a manager you sometimes miss his accidents, but he doesn't and he never fails to punish himself for them.

so what about now?

is he worrying about the concert?

or maybe he is way more ill than he says and his head can't form a coherent thought?

his debilitated frame wiggles around with the touch of your tissues while his eyes are locked on you.

you then hear the director's voice inside your ears, "what is happening?"

"a member is lightheaded. he's excessively sweating and very weak. we are handling that right now and trying to get him into a better state," you respond straightforwardly.

"we need a decision now—do we hold the next segment?"

you sink your teeth into your lower lip, inhaling deep through your nose.

"he insists on coming back. tell the rest of the members to perform a song or two and if he gets better, he will perform again."

you press your palm to his front hair to move it out of the way, collecting sweat from all over his forehead.

"i have to come back, y'know," he mumbles and your eyebrows immediately rise. "i can't let the fans down like this. this is the least i can do."

you want to argue with him. you want to scold him and tell him that he's an idiot for having such a mindset, because no fan would rather see their idol collapse on stage than have them for half of the performance only, but you bite back your tongue and respond, "shh, don't speak. you'll tire yourself out."

he seals his lips tight and glances at you with sorrowful eyes that you could easily mistake for hopeful ones, just because they're so soft. but you can recognize dejection in jungkook. you spend so much time around him it's only natural for you to. he closes them again.

a few songs pass, you hear them all muffled up in the background, hoping he hears them too. maybe he'd feel better knowing the bts boys are continuing their concert without him.

a million questions claw at you you from everywhere—the earpiece, the surroundings—everyone trusts you because your face is known around here and you are a great leader, an even greater manager.

when everything's calmed down and you are sitting by jungkook's side on the couch, monitoring his state and listening to the way of his breathing, you can't help but smile at yourself. you've come a long way, seriously, like, when did you get so responsible? and how did you get a job that lets you see jungkook in his most fragile state?

time goes faster than you'd like it to, and anxiety captures you, roughly biting at your insides as you watch him put that jacket back on and walk out of the room so confidently, though that confidence is only pretend. a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of situation. he comes back to stage to finish the concert and you hate both him and yourself for it.

jungkook is like that. he always has been

the next few days are a little busy with scheduling and constant calls that sometimes overlap each other, but you manage to push through it all and enjoy a bowl of cereal as you curl up on an apartment's couch and surf through the main page of netflix, looking for a movie to watch.

the room is lit with a warmly-colored lamp and the view of são paulo outside your window is astonishing. you don't often get evenings like this, especially with the tour nearing its end, so you make sure to soak in every single second.

when suddenly, your phone dings with a notification.

oh, for fuck's sake.

your eyes dramatically roll an entire circle as you sigh and complain under your breath, "everyone's gotta need me, right? everyone. they just can't do shit on their own."

you pick up your phone and the screen flashes bright with a picture of your corgi puppy you own. you are barely ever home, so she is usually in the hands of your best friend mira.

you curl your eyebrows and pout your lip, thinking about how much you miss the both of them and the things you'd do to bring them with you to visit all the places you do.

and then, you read the notification you received:

jungkook: "hey"

hey?

just a 'hey'?

that's odd.

you never get 'heys' from the bts boys. their messages are always direct and straightforward, like "when do we leave?" or "do we need to bring that?"

your thumb hesitantly taps on the notification and you enter your password.

should you answer, even?

maybe he sent it by accident?

"hello," you reply and with that, your heart begins racing.

he types.

jungkook: "you were the one in the backstage, right?"

jungkook: "when i didn't feel good."

you scrunch your eyebrows together and scoff out-loud as if anyone is listening. seriously? he doesn't know? you've been obsessed with him for years before you got this job and after you got it while he can barely differentiate his staff?

"yes. what's the matter?" you send a response.

he reads your message instantly and begins typing.

and fuck, he's a quick typer, too.

jungkook: "i didn't see you after the concert."

you respond, "i had to leave urgently for business. did you still feel dizzy?"

he types. then stops. then types again.

jungkook: "i wanted to thank you. i never got the chance to."

if your heart was racing before, then now it's hyper. you hear your own pulse inside your head. "thank me for what? i only did my job."

more typing. you consider simply calling him and quitting fucking up your nervous system. how does anyone even enjoy messaging?

jungkook: "you were very considerate."

you smile at that simple message. compliments are never a miss, and with your busy schedule and high expectations you barely ever receive them.

then, another message pops up below his previous one.

jungkook: "how about i thank you in person when we get back to korea?"

holy fucking shit.

the tingly warmth that spreads inside your lower stomach is utterly embarrassing.

your brain is rotted with all the fanfictions you read when you were still in high school. this is the type of shit fanfic-jungkook would say before bending y/n down against the kitchen counter and rearranging her organs in the most vile way possible.

you press your thighs together to soothe the throb but it somehow only makes it worse. "seriously? haha, you don't need to thank me or repay me, jungkook. i'm your manager :) drink plenty of water and get some rest. busy day tomorrow."

you count the seconds that pass before he sents another message.

jungkook: "like i said, considerate."

jungkook: "we will see when we get back."

jungkook: "goodnight."

and if that message couldn't make any more emotions spiral inside your chest, he finishes it off with a gif of a cartoonish white cat tucking itself into bed.

how fucking cute.

"goodnight," you respond formally.

what the fuck just happened?

a private conversation with jungkook?

the jeon jungkook?

you scroll back and go through the messages five more times. you slam the phone down on the couch and stare into the tv screen that's gone idle. and then, not a single thought later, you slide down your arm inside your panties and locate your soaked entrance with your middle and index finger.

you plunge them inside, holding back a groan behind seethed teeth as you hiss. it's a good thing you can be as loud as you want, no one's home and no one from around here knows you, anyway. it's rare you get this much privacy.

you start off slow, adjusting to your own fingers, with each thrust curling harder.

then, you shut your eyes tight and in your imagination, it is no longer your own fingers.

they are replaced with jungkook's cock. his face, hair sticking to it due to sweat, so close to yours you can hear his soft, little whines enter through your ear and travel across your entire body. you watch his lips part the exact same way they did before, you feel his naked chest rise against your skin.

you arch your back and your hand crawls under your shirt to cup your breast, applying pressure to your sensitive nipple.

"jungkook," you moan gently, feeling every thrust and melting in the pleasure.

for fuck's sake, you need jungkook. you really do.

how can you continue working, being constantly in his presence, when you interact with him once and immediately rush to bury your fingers inside yourself, moaning his name like a slut?

but what can you do?

you need him.

you need to feel him, you need feel the warmth of his cum inside your walls.

you desperately need to see how he is like in bed, you need to be pounded so hard you forget your own name.

it's been such a long time since you found the time to relax yourself like this, and especially after what just happened, it doesn't take a long time before you finish.

your orgasm hits you hard—hand gripping all over the couch and cushions, stomach muscles contracting in a spasm, thighs trembling and throat repeatedly choking up jungkook's name. you drip in sweat and the couch is probably drenched now but you couldn't care less, laying there with your legs spread and your panties soaking in the aftermath of your climax.

the visualization gradually fades and a sudden, unexplainable rush of loneliness slaps you in the face.

it's not the first time you've pleasured yourself to the thoughts of jungkook. sometimes, even clips of concerts or model pictures got you all worked up. and in the very peak hormonal days of your ovulation, simply being in your room, surrounded by tiny pictures of his face, did the trick.

but after him talking to you like this, the relationship between you two feels oddly different. though it's probably all in your head.

you check the time. no more time for a movie, especially since nothing could possibly be more exciting than what happened and you just might spend the entirety of your night replaying his text messages in your head.

a therapist would classify this as psychopatic behavour, probably. or a crush. it's not like they're synonyms.

it's been a week ever since the arirang tour ended.

as a manager, you couldn't be more relieved. of course, more stuff is coming up. there's no amount of content to make up for the amount of time the bts boys were in military. but at least for a while, you all get your proper break and can focus on more personal stuff.

but from a fan's side, it's a little devastating. you loved having the "vip" place in concerts, you loved working with the crew and bts themselves to make breathtaking performances. you loved opening up twitter late at night and watching all the high-quality fancams of each member on repeat, reading the discourses and comments.

still, you can finally come back to your own little home, have a shower with your own products and lay in your own fluffy bed, hugging your kooky plush and drifting off to dreamland.

that is, until a notification startles you from under your pillow.

through half-lidded eyes, you read: "good evening."

who in the hell is wishing you a good evening in the very middle of the night?

it's jungkook.

honestly, who else could it be?

only his name can get you to rise like this. you immediately sit up and blink with force to rid of the blurriness in your vision. you read his message over and over as a thought you once had finds its way back to your head: "did he text me on purpose? or could have it been an accident?"

"hello, jungkook," you send back.

you hover your thumbs in a circle before deciding to send another message: "you're up very late. did you mean to send this to me?"

surely he would want to talk to his friends in the middle of the night, not you. why would he text you unless something is wrong?

or maybe you're thinking too deeply. maybe that one conversation you had a week ago can't leave your head and you're slowly starting to consider jungkook as more than your idol.

how absolutely stupid. and embarrassing. and weird.

you should be glad jungkook isn't aware of your obsession. if he saw your room, he'd fire you and get a restraining order immediately.

jungkook: "yes, haha."

jungkook: "i can't sleep. i think my body doesn't understand that the tour is over."

this reminds you of the day he almost collapsed in your arms. the day he had the entire crew waving fans and pressing wet towels against him, the day he met you with ghostly eyes and still pushed himself to finish the concert.

a hollow hole opens up in your chest.

"not good at all. do you want me to order you food? or find a local pharmacy? i can get melatonin pills."

jungkook: "no no no, please don't. i just wanted to chat."

jungkook: "there's something i've been thinking about."

well one thing in common—you both have brains that are incapable of shutting down.

jungkook: "you should let me repay you for what you did back in são paulo."

your eyes widen and you suck in a breath.

he is speaking in riddles he definitely knows what he is doing.

or maybe that's what you think, only because you are so desperate for him to be sexually attracted to you.

"don't be crazy. goodnight."

jungkook: "i'm serious. let me take you out for drinks tomorrow night."

jungkook: "i'll reserve the entire place."

jungkook: "and pay for everything."

jungkook: "all professional, of course. i want to get to know my staff better. i can invite my hyungs and others if you don't feel comfortable."

don't feel comfortable?

it's not that you don't feel comfortable. it's more that the moment a drop of alcohol would enter your system and you realized that you are all alone, you'd immediately unzip his pants and slut yourself out.

fuck. horny thoughts, horny thoughts. not efficient when speaking to an idol.

reading his message again, a thought of your best friend mira appears inside your head. you remember her hopeless crush on park jimin and the devious messages she sends you about him on a daily basis.

"could my best friend come? she'd be honored to meet you and all of bts. we could invite a few other staff members too, if that's okay with you."

jungkook: "haha, of course. i'd be honored to meet your friend too."

jungkook: "i think inviting them is a good idea. so what do you say?"

jungkook: ":)"

that fuckass smiley face.

"okay, then. but you better let me plan the whole thing. i'm the manager."

jungkook: "oh, no no no nonononono."

you foolishly grin.

jungkook: "you've been planning way too much."

jungkook: "i'll plan everything. unless you have any special requirements. if so, tell me."

jungkook: "your wish is my command."

there it is,

that throb between your thighs again.

you are not staining your freshly washed sheets with sweat and other fluids. not tonight, not while you can still smell the detergent.

"no special requirements. i trust you, then."

jungkook: "yay. i'll get back to you."

jungkook: "ttyl."

a low quality gif of a baby cat covering its eyes with its paws pops up across the screen, pushing all your previous messages up.

"goodnight!" you press send and slam the phone down on the mattress, figuring that even if he were to text you one last message, you wouldn't even open it.

you release a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding and your surroundings begin to spin, all faces of the bts boys stuck to your walls getting lost in blur. you bring the soft kooky plush closer to your chest and sink deeper underneath your sheets, eyes not blinking, thoughts not running. only visuals of jungkook drinking a beverage playing in your head, flooding your body in tingles from both the inside and the outside.

shit,

you've got to call your friend.

without hesitation, you pick up your phone and scroll to find her name.

she picks up almost immediately.

"hello?" she says, concentration laced in her voice. you can tell she's busy with something.

"date with jimin and all of bts boys tomorrow night. don't know when. don't know where. you're going and we're getting ready tomorrow together."

silence.

i think she passed out.

seoul is a beautiful city, especially at night.

you and your friend had lots of fun prepping up. well, not at the beginning.

when she first came into your house, her cheeks were blushing beetroot red and she immediately reached for your shoulders, asking you over and over whether this is a joke and if you're pranking her.

after many threats of what she'd do if you weren't serious about this, you sat her down and brewed her a cup of green tea. you shared some of her situation with her and jesus, it took a lot of time to knock the reality into her brain.

of course having the jeon jungkook text you privately and organize a social gathering is a huge deal for you, you don't like to pretend it's not by saying something like "i see them everyday, it's nothing special. they're my boys."

it's got you thrilled as well, but not any less than mira. she's only seen bts a few times at concerts and she's been obsessed with them way longer than you. especially with jimin. that man is like a drug to her.

anyways, you wrap yourself up in a chic, off-the-shoulder mini dress, contrasted by a white fold-over neckline. then, you slip on a pair of black heels that you know will have your feet aching by the end of the night, and coat your lush, curled eyelashes in your favorite mascara. lastly, you make sure to pack up all your lip products in the small leather purse you carry with you.

mira wears a mini dress too, but it's painted in a majestic violet and the neckline is in the shape of a V. it goes perfectly with her silver necklace.

"i'm going to cry," you whine, gazing at the both of you through the full-body rectangle mirror in your room as you carefully style your hair.

"why?" mira chuckles. "we look gorgeous, girl!"

"that's the point! we are so fucking gorgeous. look at us. literal angels."

"we are going to bag bts."

you wavered before agreeing. it feels a little odd saying this as their manager, but honestly? you'd do anything for a chance with jungkook. a one-night stand, a date, a chance to feel his body heat against yours.

"oh, definitely."

your phone dings with a notification. you quickly reach inside your purse and see jungkook's name.

jungkook: "the driver is outside your home."

jungkook: "wow, i look like a stalker."

jungkook: "take your time if you aren't ready yet."

"is it jungkook?" mira smirks at you, attempting to sneak a peek through your shoulder but you spin around and turn your phone screen away from her. "oh, so now we're hiding things? what's next, hiding relationships?"

"me and jungkook? i'm his manager, mira. don't be silly." you roll your eyes and scoff.

"girl, i know how you've been with jungkook all these years. don't play with me."

a hopeless sigh leaves your lips. "yes, i want to makeout with him, and yes, he's unattainable to me. two things can be true at once."

"makeout?" she arches a brow at you. "we both know it's more than that."

"so, what difference does it make between you and jimin, then? he's your bias, why aren't you together with him?" your hips hold your hands in a sassy, manner as your lips curl into a playful smirk. bickering with mira and coming up with arguments that make sense is more fun that it should be.

she mirrors your smirk. "maybe 'cause i don't see jimin everyday, i'm not constantly in his presence, my job isn't to tap his sweaty body with tissues when he's on the brink of fainting, and jimin himself isn't privately texting me, asking me out on dates?"

okay, maybe your arguments don't make sense all the time.

your arms pin down to your thighs. "it's not a date. i explained that already to you."

"girl, whether you like it or not, you're gonna get jungkook's attention looking like this. i'm telling you. and when you two end up going at each other like rabbits i'll call you in the middle of it and scream "i told you so." just know that i am rooting for you, that is all."

you wish you were as delusional as mira.

life would be so much easier like this. maybe you could start manifesting by the law of assumption and have your affirmations actually work. because every time you got influenced by the social media and tried to do so, the aftertaste of your negative thoughts got in the way.

you two have have kept the driver waiting for long enough, so you grab your friend by the wrist and rush in your unwalkable heels to the limo.

the gathering thing is held at a local pub, somewhere lost within the seoul city. the atmosphere is set comfortably here—gentle lighting softly warming up the place, quiet sounds of glasses clinking together and plates being set on the table, the smell of...

well,

food, lingering in the air.

you've never actually been here before, and that's not a surprise. there are many places you haven't visited in seoul yet. it's not like you have all the time and money in the world to go around and have fun. you barely ever complain, though. following bts around the continents is enough adventures for you.

the moment you step in, you immediately notice that jungkook really did stick to his word. the entire place is empty, except for the bartender cleaning glasses behind the bar, a few workers walking by occupied with their own stuff, and two enlarged tables lively with many faces and voices, every singe one recognizable.

before you finish taking in the entire view and the reality of this exciting situation, jungkook's big eyes find yours and capture them in an instant. strewn glints sparkle in them, the ones you always end up losing yourself in and this time is no different.

a breath gets hitched in your throat and you remind yourself to be confident. be brave. act like this is normal and you're not freaking out.

step by step, your heels clank against the polished wooden floor as you make your way to one of the tables. heads get turned to you by the sound of your walk only. everyone is in the middle of conversation, you two were a little late.

the bts boys have split into two tables—jungkook, jimin, jin and namjoon on one side, yoongi, taehyung and hoseok on the other. each member is surrounded by directors and other hybe staff. there are two empty places for you and mira to sit in between the employees, right in front of jungkook and jimin.

"ah, the famous manager." jimin's eyes narrow as he grins cheekily and everyone cheers.

is this really necessary?

blush creeps up from your throat to spread all over your face. you hope the warm lighting covers up the evidence of your shyness.

"i brought my friend with me," you say as you comfortably sit down, holding mira's hand to soothe her. "her name is mira. everyone say hi."

a variety of voices greet her and you feel her tense underneath your hold. her palm is drenched in sweat but when she speaks, you realize there is nothing to be worried about. she's coordinated, her words are smooth. mira's good at handling overwhelming situations, and you know that even if she is nervous, she'll ease into this soon. honestly, it's bts we are surrounded with. how can you not feel comfortable with them?

you are one to talk.

heart skipping a beat every time your eyes get caught in jungkook's,

losing the ground beneath your feet the moment he speaks directly to you,

asking for someone to pass you your drink and having to revert to manual breathing because you forget how to do it automatically when jungkook is the one to comply to your request.

and when your fingers brush for just a split second, a moment so brief you are sure he doesn't even notice, you can't help but forget everything and everyone around you and gulp down so much alcohol at once, the dizziness doesn't even have to sneak up on you, it hits you instantly.

a few light cocktails in, you start losing control of your own actions. you are not too drunk yet, sober enough to make decisions but tipsy to not make very smart ones. one of them being occasionally gazing just too long at jungkook.

he notices, or so you think.

everyone around you is chatting loudly, chortling, the staff members are asking bts personal questions you feel superior for already knowing the answers to. even mira is busy hitting the table, crying from laughter with jimin. they seem to be getting along pleasantly.

and then, there's jungkook.

he grasps your sight in a way that doesn't feel accidental anymore. it's purposeful. it's meaningful. he intends to make you stare. then, he tilts his head toward the exit behind him, flicking his eyebrows as if it's a non-verbal question.

you give him a quick nod and watch as he stands up and excuses himself to step outside for fresh air.

your knees begin bending to step up, too, but then you realize how awkward and creepy it would look to go after him. after all, he is still an artist, even a few chat messages and drinks in, you can't be talking to him as though he's your buddy. at least not in front of everyone.

so you sit yourself back down and play it off like you were adjusting yourself.

some time passes. it's hard to keep track of it when the clock on the wall is too far for you to read, even when you squint. jungkook hasn't come back.

you whisper into mira's ear that you're going to the bathroom. did she even hear?

doesn't matter. maybe it's better she doesn't, because it's not hard to notice you going the complete opposite direction and heading towards the exit, not the bathroom.

the chilly breeze caresses your naked skin when you step outside, an immediate shiver under your breath escaping from your lips. for the first second, you are all alone and jungkook is nowhere to be found, which whisks a mixture of worry and confusion in both your head and your chest like they're connected.

there he is,

waiting for you.

you face his huge back, brief gleams of light swimming all over his black leather jacket, reflected from all the streetlights.

"jungkook," you call his name and it comes out softer than it sounded in your head.

he turns to you eagerly, like a puppy who's heard his name being called. he's covered his head with a hoodie to avoid public recognition and you see a black mask dragged down to his chin for easier access to his lips, surely because of the skinny cigarette between his two fingers.

"jungkook, are you kidding me?" you instantly snatch the cigarette from his hand because, as it is known, second thoughts don't exist when you're tipsy. "i told you to quit smoking in public. you caused a scandal last time."

"i'm a grown man," he insists, whining, almost. "you can try if you wanna."

your lazy eyes jump from his face to the cigarette. your eyebrows curl.

"try it," he crosses his hands over his masculine chest. "i won't get mad."

"oh, in contrary to me, right?" you think, but it only remains a thought and instead, you say: "why are you encouraging me to smoke?"

"have you never been curious?"

you have been. everyone is always curious about alcohol, smoking, drugs, it's natural. many people smoke in korea, seoul especially, it's deemed as the most normal thing, especially amongst people of your age.

"i've been curious about many other things as well," you tell him, handing back the cigarette before it gets too hot between your fingers. "doesn't mean i let myself try everything."

oh, shit.

that sounded wrong.

your instincts urge to immediately start apologizing and brush off whatever you just said as a drunken thought spoken out loud. but somehow, you don't care enough to do so. somehow, the way his eyes widen the slightest amount and the way the bottom of his mouth merely twitches makes you want to proudly stick to your words.

"maybe that says more about you than it says about me." jungkook shrugs and inhales a puff of the cigarette.

you watch the ball of smoke rise up from his mouth when he turns his face away to blow it out.

you've seen jungkook smoke plenty of times. not only that viral clip on social media, you've seen him do it next to you, you've seen him through the window, you've even heard him talk about that habit with the other members.

it's nothing new to you.

what is new,

is that you are standing here together.

alone.

surrounded by seoul's flashing lights and busy street life,

head full of thoughts but none of them seem to have a proper ending, feet working twice as hard to hold your lightly wobbly figure up. you're separating your lips, trying to think of words to structure a sentence with but you have no idea what to say next.

"wanna go for a walk?" jungkook suddenly asks you.

you're stumped.

"that's not..." you dryly swallow, "proper."

"proper?" his eyebrows jump and he briefly chuckles, that bunny-like grin twists something undeniable in your stomach. "what's proper to you?"

"we work together, jungkook." you step an inch closer to him. "what if someone sees us?"

"is that the only thing stopping you?"

that question hangs in the air for seconds.

"i don't know," you reply with hesitance. "yes, probably."

he almost closes the gap you narrowed before, his sudden movement making your heart jump. holding eye contact, he takes off the black mask from his jawline and hangs its strings on your ears. as if the close proximity wasn't enough to have chills running down your limbs, he pinches the fabric of the mask between his thumb and index finger and brings it up to your nose bridge. "there you go," he beams with delight. "you're safe from the public, if that's what you're worried about."

he's stupid.

this is all stupid.

whatever is happening right now must be a fever dream.

the way he signals you to follow him by doing that attractive head flick again is not real. the way you two stroll along the street, him subconsciously picking the routes and shortcuts that could be more dangerous but contain fewer people is absolutely false. the way you two talk as if you've known each other for many years is nothing but fake.

well, you two have known each other for many years. but not like that. and yet, the conversations flow smoothly.

perhaps it's the alcohol.

it could be, really.

or perhaps it's the fact that jungkook is emphatic, understanding, relatable, hilarious, attractive, considerate, masculine, and most importantly—a gentleman.

losing track of time, you two end up cheekily giggling like children, leaning against the frigid brick walls of an alley in front of each other. you don't even remember why you were laughing and what's so funny, but you're on the carousel of uncontrollable and infinite snickering and you can't seem to get off.

after some time and more meaningless conversations, jungkook lights up another cigarette and smokes it, face turned toward the narrow view of the seoul streets shimmering to his right.

you don't take seconds of this night for granted.

swimming in the comforting silence between you two, you use it to observe him—something you had forgotten to do tonight.

your eyes travel across his entire body frame as though it were a treasure map. you carefully glide over each little curve, each turn, each layer of his biker-like clothing, each piercing and its gleam, each silver ring wrapped around his masculine fingers.

even jeon jungkook has his own flaws, but they're difficult not to love. you love every part of him. it's a wicked and disgusting thing you feel towards your client, but how can you run from your feelings when they consume you entirely?

he's a fucking god.

it's hard to trust what's right before you. and it's even harder to think that this night must end soon. even if you don't call it off yourself, the sun will rise anyway. and things will be different then.

"my house is not far from here," you say, voice a little hoarse from the breathless laughing. "maybe i should go now."

it's best if you quit soon. on your own terms.

making controlled decisions avoids unnecessary emotions and—

"you're sure?" you blink and jungkook is already inching closer to you. "you really wanna go?"

"i'm tired." you try your best to avoid like you're coming up with excuses. if only he knew how badly you craved to stay just a little longer. "tomorrow's hangover is going to destroy me."

"you didn't even drink that much, did you?"

"i did," you smile like an idiot. "but i've sobered up. you drank less than me, anyway."

with jungkook being so close to you, you can feel the material of your clothes brushing against his and the way his breath brings the scent of nicotine and smoke.

you wonder if he kissed you here and there, would you taste the ashy flavor?

fuck. fuck. fuck. no more thoughts like this.

"it's time for me to be considerate this time." he tilts his head and smiles so warmly, your heart immediately softens and his tapioca pearled eyes squint. "let me take you home."

"you should stop with this whole... consideration thing." you suck in a deep breath and wonder how long it takes before you forget to breathe at all. "i am not considerate. i am skilled at being a manager."

"you're right about that," he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "you manage us very well, miss."

holy shit.

holy fucking shit.

delayed shivers trail after his touch and your body is confusing whether to send a wave of boiling heat or chilling coldness over you.

you sink your teeth into the tip of your tongue, mentally whining, desperate for him to touch you once more. just to feel it all again—the tingles, the sudden quickening of your heartbeat, the unbearable ache in between your thighs you thought couldn't get worse than it did when you would listen to his voice or be in his presence.

oh, you were very wrong.

being touched by jeon jungkook is an automatic libido enabler.

"miss?" you repeat like a parrot. he probably thinks it's because you're not used to these kind of nicknames. but really, your head has gotten rid of its thoughts and every cell of your body is passionately screaming jungkook's name.

"you don't like that?"

"i don't know."

a strong smell of smoke seeps through your nostrils, jungkook rises his nearly burned cigarette up in the middle of the gap between yours and his lips.

"you still don't want to try?" he offers, slightly turning his head to the side.

he's been so good to you this entire night.

so fucking good.

would it hurt to leave him satisfied?

you never set a rule for yourself to avoid smoking. you understand it's unhealthy and probably not something you would choose to do on a daily basis, but you also understand that you are a grown adult and you are capable of not becoming addicted to anything you touch.

and you trust jungkook.

so you part your lips and leave your mouth agape, gazing at him through your lethargic eyelids and smudged lashes.

he slowly positions the cigarette between your teeth, setting it down on the tip of your tongue. before his fingers can exit your mouth, you manage to briefly brush your lips over his skin.

"inhale," he orders gently.

and so you do.

you inhale.

"fully." his hand wanders down to your torso. he firmly presses his palm against it. "into the lungs."

for the first second, you feel fine. despite the absolute waterfall pooling in your panties, you feel fine and you sort of understand why people become smokers so easily.

until you don't.

your lungs start to burn without warning and you cough repeatedly, jungkook immediately takes the cigarette out from your mouth and you can even hear him chuckle.

for fuck's sake, you're out here dying and he thinks this is funny?

"how was it?" he dares to ask.

"terrible, fuck..." you're struggling to catch your breath, tears welling up along your waterline. "how do you get used to this?"

"it just happens. gradually." you see him shrug through your blurry vision.

you leisurely bring your glassy eyes to meet his. he doesn't even need tears to have the entire galaxy reflected in them, this never fails to amaze you.

what doesn't amaze you,

is how easily you become bothered by this disgusting habit of his. and you are glad you can finally call it disgusting, knowing you have tried it, and it was indeed disgusting.

"and that doesn't concern you?" you cock your head at him. "how damaged your lungs have to be to smoke so casually and act like it's nothing? at this rate, your vocal chords will be burnt to ash by the time you—"

everything happens so fast.

your words, the emotion.

his cold, tattooed hand holding you by your chin and you thinking you are imagining things.

jungkook drawing his porcelain face so close to yours, for a moment you fully believe you two are going to immediately clash into a kiss. but he hesitates the last second, frozen in place with his lips hovering merely a centimeter above yours as he waits for your response, as he mentally curses himself out for acting so spontaneously.

his warm breath coating your lips.

this is when you realize,

that he's giving you a choice.

and you choose to go all the way in.

the noise that vibrates through your lips is a little embarrassing but you don't care when the only thing that you need in the moment is jungkook. you need him closer, you need to feel him. you quickly hook one of your hands around his nape and clutch the collar of his jacket with your other hand, as your lips finally collide into a kiss.

at first, it's only a peck.

he waits to see if you'll change your mind.

but you don't. you'd be stupid to do so.

you pull him in closer and arch your back against the wall when his big hands place themselves securely on your waist. his strong cologne, with a slight hint of smoke from the burned cigarette, fills your nostrils, intoxicating you completely. you act as if hypnotized, savoring every touch and every motion.

his warm tongue confidently enters your mouth and caresses against yours. everything about him is so fucking big—his body, his arms, his tongue—and when he presses up himself against you, you feel even more belittled.

only the thought of that ties a knot in your stomach. a knot you so desperately need to relieve.

"jungkook," you involuntarily break the kiss for a moment and whisper into his mouth. "take me home. right now."

"are you sure?"

"please," you whimper, running your fingers through his raven hair. "i need you."

that sets something inside him.

something wild. something he doesn't show often. you feel it underneath your touch, the way his demeanor shifts, the way he straightens his posture and strengthens his grip on you.

and before you know it, you're kicking off your heels and they go flying anywhere inside your hallway. you're slipping jungkook's leather jacket off of his broad shoulders and slamming it onto the floor of a room you barely recognize. you're helping him pull his black t-shirt over his head and when your palms press against the boiling heat of his skin, you fight the urge to orgasm on spot. all whilst your tongue is swirling around his.

jungkook throws you on your own bedsheets, not even bothering to close the door behind you two because there's nobody neither of you have to worry about. he positions his knee in between your thighs and, without wasting a single second, you immediately grind your needy pussy on it.

huffs, puffs, groans, quiet whines—all those pretty sounds fill the room, and they intensify the moment his hand slithers underneath your laced panties. he tenderly brushes against your wet entrance without doing anything yet.

"look at the mess you've made," he whispers in a pouting manner. "feel that? feel how wet you got for me?"

he plunges two fingers inside and you arch your back in an instant, biting onto your bottom lip. your nails dig into the naked skin of his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist and holding him locked there.

he extracts them slowly, then moves them inside again. each thrust holds more force, and with each harsh movement you whine louder.

he's so fucking good at this.

curling his fingers against the right spot as if he's already explored your body before. placing his thumb firmly on your clit and using your juices to soften his circular motions on it.

moving from your lips, he leaves a wet trail of hungry kisses down to your jawline. your neck. your collarbones. he then envelops his big hand around one of your tits and gently taps your sensitive nipple, causing it to perk up in his hold, as he wraps his soft lips around your other nipple and gently circles his warm tongue around it, before beginning to tenderly suck.

your mind fogs up and you fear that you might finish way too soon, before even getting the chance to offer to make him feel good.

jungkook feels your walls clenching around your fingers, so he pulls them out, whispering: "not yet, baby, not yet. we're not done."

the sudden pet name is dangerous to you.

he rises on his knees and starts unbuckling his belt, leaving you all messy and your your jaw hanging, trying to stabilize your breathing and mentally collect your thoughts though you eventually realize that's useless. what is there to think about, anyway? especially when you are beneath jeon jungkook and you are watching him work his way around the buttons of his jeans.

that is before something else catches your attention.

he's not looking directly at you—he's looking a little to your side.

staring, even, in an expression that's difficult to read.

you turn your head and you are faced with something soft, something pink, something that smells like your coconut hair conditioner.

your kooky plushie.

following jungkook's gaze, your eyes jump around the room to every single fucking thing he shouldn't be seeing right now.

albums, posters, photocards, figurines...

the list can go on and on and you hate that. you hate yourself for it.

"jungkook—" you interrupt yourself with a gulp. "jungkook, you weren't supposed to see this."

"you're a fan?" he asks. blandly.

how do you even respond to that?

"i—"

"you've been a fan this whole time?"

"i don't—no—i can explain. it's got nothing to do with why i got the job, i promise, i—i take my role very seriously—"

"you've got my face all over your walls."

the heat in between your thighs is unfortunately beginning to fade and replace itself with a haunting hollowness in your stomach. if you don't get out of here right now, you might end up puking all over yourself. this is terrible. this is fucking terrible. this is the worst night of your life and you can feel how your face is getting drained of blood as cold sweat runs down your skin.

you grab your soft, pink pillow in the shape of a heart and cover your beetroot face, only your fearful eyes peeking through the gap.

"jungkook—"

"every single day you pretended to be polite, professional, you treated me like a client and nothing more. and then, you'd get back home to this room and sit around, listening to my music, watching my content, buying my albums?"

embarrassed is a terrible understatement. you feel humiliated. your world has stopped spinning and you are unsure if it will ever move again.

"i swear—"

"how obsessed are you?" he asks, and this question startles you. "what else do you do in your room?"

you choke on air.

"i..."

he slips off his jeans along with his calvin klein underwear, his erect cock springing free as the quietest whine quivers beneath his shut lips. he gives you time to construct a sentence before he manages to fully undress himself, and when he finds you still silent by the time he's done, he aggressively captures your agape lips into a kiss.

you feel the damp tip of his cock lightly press against your clothed clit. and fuck, here it is again, that annoying warmth. the knot in your stomach. the desperate need to feel good. feel intense.

jungkook slowly moves the pillow away, closing in the empty space with his naked chest, brushing against your naked tits.

"you've wanted me," he mutters in between the kisses. "you've wanted me for so long."

you hum into his mouth and your heartbeat intensifies the moment you feel his fingers hook around the strings of your panties, sliding them off with subtle eagerness. he breaks the kiss and moves your underwear down slowly, traveling across your legs that you're glad you shaved carefully and moisturized with your favorite vanilla-scented lotion. you love smelling like a damn bakery, but you love inhaling jungkook's expensive cologne even more.

"you should've just told me," he says calmly. "if i knew you felt like this, i would've fucked you sooner. so much sooner."

he lines the head of his cock with your dripping entrance and your body shivers in tingles. the tip enters your glistering folds slightly and you immediately bite down on your bottom lip, clutching fists around your soft blanket as you take a deep breath in.

"you probably would've just let me fuck you on the spot, right? fuck you in the backstage, fuck you in the staff rooms. you would've spread your legs open for me anywhere i wanted to."

he moves an inch forward, you immediately choke up a moan.

"j—jungkook, i don't think it will—"

he moves another inch.

it burns.

it burns so good.

he's so fucking big you don't know if you can handle this.

another inch in, you close your eyes shut as a broken moan emerges from your throat. to make things even more intense, jungkook securely presses down on the lower part of your stomach with his palm, the coldness of his silver rings bursting waves of electrifying quivers on your skin. your muscles tighten around him and you whine his name pathetically, like your vocal chords are about to shatter.

"shh, baby. breathe," he instructs, staring into your eyes. "you're okay."

you try to deepen your breaths, you try to regulate your breathing pattern. but his size is going to destroy you.

"i can't take it," you warn him, eyebrows knitting.

as if on purpose, he moves another inch, one hand remained on your stomach, another pinning your wrist down to the mattress. below him like this, you feel utterly helpless.

"you're taking me so well already," he murmurs. "my good girl."

without warning, he begins thrusting into you.

slowly at first, but hard.

your eyes forcefully roll as vehement waves of pleasure erupt inside your body over and over again, limbs going numb and tears welling up in your eyes. gradually, he picks up his pace and with each pound you worry if you'll be able to handle him without passing out. but your body adjusts to his cock, and by the time he's rearranging your organs, you're a whimpering mess and you can't do anything but drown his ears in your pretty noises.

"jungkook," you moan his name in the most erotic way possible. "i'm—i'm close, fuck, it—it feels so good... so, so good."

"yeah?" his voice is breathless.

the warmth radiating from his muscular body suffocates you, he leans closer and compresses his forehead to yours. this is the most intimate you've ever been with jungkook, and you are addicted.

when his hand moves from your hip to your other wrist, locking you down to your bed completely, he increases his force and slams into you with the strength you always had noticed when he worked out or did those impressive as hell dance moves in his choreographies, but never thought would've been used to fuck you like this.

he's close, too. you can sense it.

and it's not something he tries to hide, either. his quiet whimpers, mostly mixed with groans and murmured curses, shift into shamelessly frantic whines.

he's wailing your name like you're a goddess and he's a beggar. he's thrusting into you and breathing on your lips like you're the only thing he's even wanted to feel this close, this deep. like he's been as crazy about you as you've been about him.

your pathetic little moans dance with his sniveling and his cock stretches you out completely, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

"you're so tight," he mumbles into your ears. "my perfect girl, my sweet baby. 'gonna fill you up so good."

he's right.

you're his.

you've been his.

you were always told to keep your relationship with him strictly professional, you two were colleagues and nothing more. but the chemistry was there. in the lingering glances, in the subtle touches none of you ever cared to acknowledge. it was hidden beneath all your interactions all along and even now it feels like he was meant for you.

"please." you struggle to resist begging, the possibility of him changing his mind makes you weak. "please, jungkook, right there—fuck."

that's it.

that was the final touch.

your orgasm comes crashing over you, warmth and ecstasy spreading from between your thighs to your entire body. you arch your back like a cat and flagrantly whine his name as a single tear runs down your temple, staining your pillow.

a second after, jungkook reaches his peak too, coating your tight walls with his cum. he presses himself into you harder and buries his face into the curve between your throat and your shoulder, gently nibbling on a piece of skin like you're his biting stick.

he crumbles down on top of you, you feel his chest expanding on yours as he breathes deeply.

your surroundings spin in your sight and whenever you close your eyes, it feels as though you're up in the sky, flying on alladin's magic carpet. your legs are still enclosed around his waist, and moving your fingers to fiddle with his hair comes like an instinct, but you hesitate. your shyness conquers you. instead, your hand softly lands on the top of his head and you let it stay there for the night, just as you let him stay here in your bed.

the following morning you get woken up by the bothersome sound of your dog barking. she always barks when she sees someone walk by a window, that's why you make sure to close each curtain before going to bed. last night, you didn't get the chance to.

you open your puffy eyes and slowly rise, groaning under your breath. you were expecting to wake up with a terrible headache, have your stomach squeezing disgustingly and vomit building up your throat. this is typically how your hangovers go, even when you don't drink as much as you can. you've learned to not go hardcore on alcohol.

but somehow, you feel oddly okay. sleepy, bloated, feet aching from your heels, but okay.

your toes reach the floor and you try to stand up, and fuck—that's when an unfamiliar pain in your abdomen hits, like someone brutally kicking you with their shoe and rubbing it over your internal organs.

jesus fucking christ.

where would it come from, even?

did you fall down and you don't remember it? or maybe you got your period?

then, you hear the sound of two plates clattering together from your kitchen. and you realize that your room is infested with the delicious smell of chocolate pancakes.

thought after thought, you remember,

you slept with jungkook last night.

holy fucking shit.

jeon jungkook

fucked you raw.

enough thinking. your only goal is to rush to the kitchen, find the source of the delectable pancakes, and make sure everything was a dream and you got home safe, decently drunk and not accompanied by your client.

and when you do, you can't tell whether you feel surprised or disappointed. but surely, the way your heartbeat stops makes you wish your heart would decide to never beat again. it'd make things easier.

there he is, jungkook. there is nothing different about him. the locations of his piercings haven't changed, every tattoo is in its right place, his eyes are still as round and puppy-like and his muscles haven't vanished.

what steals your breath, is that he's not in a studio like he usually is, or the stage of a sold-out concert. he is in your neatly cleaned, decorated with orchids and vases with tulips, kitchen. his muscular back is turned on you as he uses your spatula to flip a chocolate pancake and let it slide off into your plate full of them.

he just doesn't belong here.

this feels like some kind of hangover dream.

your dog barks again at the window, and he murmurs in a tone you've never heard before: "hey, who are you so angry with?"

his words are so... soft. there's no other way to describe it. soft in a fatherly way, kind of?

your dog barks again. and again. and then, he tells her: "come on, let it all out. i'm listening."

your mind is turning clockwise—actually, he might belong here. this imagery in front of your eyes is starting to look natural, like you could imagine a life with jungkook. you could get used to eating chocolate pancakes for breakfast and you could watch him talk to your puppy like this, especially if it meant having him around in the mornings. it's hard to admit, but as much as you wanted him to disappear immediately and have last night mean nothing, it squeezes your heart in a bittersweet way to know that he chose to stay.

feeling your presence, jungkook looks to you over his shoulder. "oh, good morning," he says, slightly smiling. "how did you sleep?"

"good..." you take a few steps closer to him, peeking through his bicep. "pancakes?"

"milk, flour and eggs are all you have. do you just eat pancakes for breakfast everyday?"

"well, no." you childishly grin. "i sometimes make scrambled eggs."

"i should start buying you groceries, then. this is absurd."

jungkook grabs the plate full with pancakes and positions it in the middle of your small, circular dinner table not too far from the kitchen. your house is quite small, but you've never been bothered by that. owning a big house would stress you out, too many corners to clean and too many floorings to scrub.

as he is setting the table, you watch him attentively. the way his muscles move below his skin, the reddened nail marks all over his shoulders, the messy hair and the shameless calvin klein underwear.

fuck. you are wearing nothing but a pair of new panties and his black shirt from yesterday. you don't remember changing clothes, and you surely wouldn't have been able to manage to surf through your underwear drawer, so you can only assume he did it. and you were wondering why amongst that sweet smell of pancakes you noticed a subtle scent of his cologne.

feels a bit personal. intimate, even.

that thought should gross you out.

blah, blah, blah. how can jungkook doing anything gross you out? even smoking, the one thing you'd enjoy for him to quit doing, isn't icky to you. it's attractive in a way. you just wish you could feed him some kind of pill that'd make him immune to every health concern that could come with it.

you two sit down facing each other and go at your food.

the pancakes taste as good as they smelled, he even brewed you coffee, too.

"this is weird," you say.

"this isn't weird," jungkook contradicts before taking a sip of his coffee from his mug. "why would it be weird?"

"everyone's gonna go crazy when they find out we slept together."

"so, we don't tell them." the corners of his lips curl into a smile. he sounds like a devious toddler.

"they'll have to know eventually." you let out a sigh and rest your heavy head inside your palm, elbow leaning on the table. "and you're... i shouldn't feel this comfortable with you. i shouldn't see you sitting in my kitchen and feeling barely anything, as if this was nothing new. because just yesterday my soul would leave my body each time you made eye contact with me."

he takes a second to take all my words in. or to chew his food.

"you'll get used to this."

"i'm already used to you."

"isn't that a good thing, then?" he glances up at you. "'cause i don't plan on leaving."

now you have to take all his words in.

jungkook never leaving?

jungkook lullabying you to sleep each night and greeting you in the morning?

jungkook being available not only during working hours, not only when the rest of the bts members and your entire crew is surrounding you two?

"you sounded good last night," he says like this sentence alone doesn't rotate your organs inside out. "with that voice, you could become a lead singer. we should make you a part of our band, like, the hidden eight member of bts."

you roll your eyes and hold back a sassy scoff. "yeah, right."

"so did you," you think to yourself. "so did you, jeon jungkook."

"no, i'm serious." once again, his eyes reach for yours. you love simple moments like this, you just love getting lost in each other. "i loved what happened last night. you were amazing. i mean—you've always been amazing. amazing at your job, amazing at anything you do. so, i'm not surprised."

"jungkook—"

a shatter in the ice, your phone begins ringing. you slammed it on this table last night and didn't spare it another thought after.

you pick up and mira's name flashes in your eyes. you pick it up.

"hello?"

"was it big?"

you nearly choke up a piece of pancake.

"what?"

"girl, you're either kidnapped or you had the best sex of your life with jeon jungkook. which one is it?"

your eyes widen and you can already tell by jungkook's expression that he's going to ask you about this soon.

"um..." you scrunch your eyebrows together and swallow dryly. "the second."

"god damn. god fucking damn!" she squeals. "yes, girl, i'm applauding you! how was it?"

"good... really fucking good. we'll talk about this later, yeah? i'm... in the middle of something."

"oh hell no, you two are at it again, aren't you?"

"no, no, no—"

"okay, wait, before you go: after you left, i got jimin's number! we didn't kiss or anything, but this is huge for me. god, we're definitely going on a double date next time."

"oh, definitely."

"okay, girl, i'll call you. take care."

"yeah, you too."

she hangs up. seconds after, you immediately get faced with the pile of notifications stacked upon each other on your lock screen, the most recent ones being: two phone calls from mira at 1:22 AM, another on at 1:24 AM, eleven more until 1:35 AM, and one at 3:27 AM.

what were you doing at 3:27 AM, even?

jungkook is gulping down the last sip of his coffee, whilst you're barely halfway finished. it's not that it's not good, you're just so distracted by things like this + your thoughts, you can hardly concentrate on chewing food.

your corgi begins spinning around in rapid circles at jungkook's feet, barking with a high-pitched tone.

"she likes you," you slowly tilt your head down, smiling. "she does this when she wants attention."

"i like her, too." he reaches out to rub behind her ears. "i like her mom as well."

warmth spreads across your cheeks. it must be the coffee, at least that's what you tell yourself.

somehow this moment makes your brain trail back to a previous thought of this morning—having jungkook in your life.

and honestly?

you could definitely get used to it.

[nysae]

✦ FOCUS, BABY.

jk x fem!reader, smut, porn without plot, breast play, p in v, riding, face riding, terms of endearment, unedited, mdni.

Jungkook’s hand slid slowly along the curve of your waist, his fingers tracing the soft fabric of the tank top as if it was something that he couldn't resist.

You were nestled on the plush couch, the dim glow of the tv casting flickering shadows across the room, the movie's score barely registering in your mind. you tried to focus on the screen, head resting against jungkook’s broad shoulder, but his touch was hot, igniting a familiar heat that spread from your skin inward.

His palm lingered on your hip, squeezing gently at first, then with more intent, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, "just keep your eyes on the movie, babe. i want to see if you can handle this without missing a beat."

His voice was a low, teasing rumble, laced with that sexy edge you loved and hated in equal measure, making you even more excited as you shifted slightly, pretending to adjust for comfort.

you bit your lower lip, body responding despite your best efforts to play it cool. Jungkook’s hand ventured higher, inching under the hem of the top, his fingertips brushing the bare skin of your stomach with deliberate slowness. The sensation was maddening,

god.

His calloused touch was rough yet tender. Sending shivers up your spine that made your nipples harden beneath the thin cotton. you could feel the weight of his toned arm draped over yours, his muscular chest pressing against your back, and it was all you could do not to arch into him.

"jungkook, you're gonna make me miss the whole thing," you whispered, voice a mix of protest and horniness, though it came out breathier than you intended. he chuckled softly, his lips grazing the nape of your neck, planting a series of light kisses that left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "That's the point, isn't it? Stay focused for me, babe. Let me play a little."

His words were a command wrapped in affection, and as his hand crept upward, cupping the underside of your full breast through the top, you felt a rush of wetness between your thighs, cunt clenching in anticipation.

The movie droned on, some half-assed dialogue filling the air, but your world narrowed to the torture of jungkook’s exploration.

He teased your breast with expert precision, his thumb circling the edge of the nipple without quite touching it, the fabric of your top adding a frustrating barrier that only heightened your sensitivity.

your tits were heavy with arousal, the peaks straining against the material, and when he finally pinched one lightly, rolling it between his fingers, a soft gasp escaped your lips. "Fuck, jungkook," you breathed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you forced them open again, locking onto the screen as if your life depended on it.

he laughed, a deep, throaty sound that vibrated through his chest and into your back, his other hand joining the first to slip under your top fully now, skin on skin. His palms were warm, encompassing your breasts with a possessive grip, kneading the soft flesh with increasing pressure. "These tits of yours drive me crazy," he growled, his voice dropping lower, more primal. "So fucking perfect, all round and full. feel how hard they make my dick, babe." To emphasize his point, he ground his hips against your ass, letting you feel the rigid bulge in his jeans, his cock already throbbing with need, straining against the denim.

your resistance was crumbling, body betraying you with every touch. jungkook’s fingers worked your nipples now, tugging and twisting them with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

Each pinch sending jolts of pleasure straight to your aching pussy.

you were soaking wet, panties clinging to your swollen lips, as you squirmed against him, trying futilely to ease the building arousal. "God, you're so wet already, aren't you?" he whispered, his breath hot on your ear, one hand abandoning a breast to slide down your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts.

But he didn't go further yet, instead returning to your tits, squeezing them harder, his thumbs flicking over the hardened buds with wet, slick sounds from the faint sheen of sweat on your skin.

your moans were soft at first, little whimpers that tried to stifle, but as he sucked in a breath and bit lightly at your shoulder, you couldn't hold back.

"Jungkook, please... I can't... it's too much," you pleaded, voice cracking with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, the movie's plot long forgotten as your world spun around the raw sensations he was unleashing.

Jungkook didn't let up, his dominance shining through in the way he held you captive with his touch, his free hand now gripping your thigh to keep you still.

Jungkook’s cock was a insistent presence against you, pulsing with every ragged breath he took, and he groaned as he pressed it harder into your ass, grinding slowly.

"Take it, baby. let me play with these big, juicy tits while you pretend to watch. I love how they bounce when I do this."

He demonstrated by giving one a firm slap, the sound echoing softly in the room, followed by a wet, needy cry from your lips as the sting bloomed into pleasure. your nipples were raw from his attention, swollen and sensitive, and when he leaned over to capture one in his mouth through the fabric, sucking hard, you arched involuntarily, cunt throbbing with an empty ache that begged for more.

you were a mess now.

saliva soaked through your top, making it cling even more, and the wet slurping noises he made only made you hornier. "Fuck, your nipples are like little rocks, begging to be sucked," he muttered against your skin, his tongue lashing out to lap at them greedily.

Your hands clenched into fists, body trembling asyou fought to stay composed, but the assault on your senses was relentless, each touch a vivid reminder of how completely jungkook owned you sometimes.

the room was thick with the scent of the two of you arousal, a heady mix of sweat and your growing wetness, and jungkook’s own precum was likely staining his jeans, his balls tight with the urge to claim you fully.

but he paced himself, drawing out the foreplay with torturous slowness, his fingers tracing every curve of your breasts as if memorizing them anew. "You're so fucking responsive, babe. I can feel your pussy dripping from just this," he taunted, his voice rough with lust, and you could only nod, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps, the movie nothing but a distant hum as you surrendered further to the whirlwind of distraction he created.

your body was a live wire, every nerve ending buzzing from jungkook’s relentless assault on your tits, but the ache between your thighs had grown too insistent to ignore.

with a sudden surge of confidence, you twisted in his arms, hands planting firmly on his chest as you pushed him back against the couch. His eyes widened in surprise, that smug grin spreading wider as you straddled him in one fluid motion, your thighs clamping around his hips.

The fabric of your shorts rubbed against the bulge in his jeans, and you could feel the heat of his cock through the layers, throbbing like a heartbeat against your soaked cunt. "Fuck it, jungkook," you panted, voice husky with lust, the pressure making your whimper.

He let out a low growl, his hands gripping your waist to steady you, but you were already fumbling with his jeans, fingers trembling as you yanked at the button and zipper, freeing his thick, rigid dick from its confines.

It sprang out, veins bulging along the shaft, the head slick with precum that glistened in the tv’s flicker, and you couldn't resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking the length slowly at first, feeling the way it pulsed in your grip.

jungkook’s breath hitched, his hips bucking involuntarily as you positioned yourself over him, the tip of his cock brushing against the wet fabric of your shorts.

"That's it, babe, take what you want," he rasped, his voice thick with approval, his eyes locked on your bouncing tits as your lifted up just enough to shove the shorts and panties aside, exposing swollen, dripping pussy to the cool air.

you was a mess down there, folds slick and puffy, arousal coating the inner thighs, and without another word, you sank down onto him, impaling yourself on his dick in one swift, greedy motion.

The stretch was delicious, his thick girth filling you completely, stretching your walls to their limit as you bottomed out, cunt clenching around him like a vice.

a guttural moan escaped your lips, body shuddering at the fullness, the way his cock hit that deep spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes.

you started riding him fast and rough right away, your hips slamming down with forceful thrusts, the sound of wet slapping filling the room as your juices coated his shaft. your tits bounced wildly with each movement, the heavy globes jiggling under your top, nipples still raw and sensitive from his earlier teasing, and you arched back to give him a better view, breath coming in sharp gasps.

jungkook’s hands roamed up your sides, squeezing tits roughly as you rode him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading them with possessive force that made you cry out. "Fuck, yeah, bounce those tits for me," he growled, his voice laced with that dominant edge, pulling you down for a searing kiss that tasted of salt and desire.

your lips crashed together, tongues tangling messily, your teeth nipping at his lower lip as you pulled away, only to dive back in with more hunger. you grabbed a fistful of his short dark hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck, and attacked it with open-mouthed kisses, sucking hard on the taut skin, leaving red marks that would bruise later.

The rhythm of your riding never faltered, ass cheeks slapping against his thighs with each downward thrust, your pussy taking him deeper, the angle hittingyour G-spot with punishing precision. "Your cock feels so fucking good, stretching me out like this," you moaned against his ear words crude and breathless, spurring him on as he thrust up to meet you, bodies moving in a frantic, primal sync.

Sweat beaded on your skin, mixing with the saliva from yours and jungkook’s kisses, making your top stick to you even more, and you could feel his balls tightening against your ass with every grind, his precum leaking inside you.

jungkook’s grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements with bruising force, his dick pounding into your cunt with a relentless rhythm that had you seeing spots. "Take it, you greedy little slut, ride that dick like you mean it," he taunted, his voice rough and commanding, and you responded by speeding up, thighs burning from the effort but the pleasure overriding everything.

your tits heaved with each bounce, the nipples grazing his chest through the fabric, sending jolts of sensation straight to your core, and you reached down to rub your clit in tight circles, the added friction making your walls flutter around him.

wet, squelching sounds echoed with every thrust,your pussy so drenched that it dripped down his shaft, pooling on his balls, and you could feel the first tremors of your orgasm building, a coiling heat that made you grind harder, faster.l

"Oh fuck, jungkook, i’m gonna cum all over your cock," you whimpered, hair falling in wild strands around your face as you pulled his head forward again, capturing his mouth in another hot kiss, tongues battling as he groaned into you.

but jungkook wasn't done pushing you to your limits; with a sudden shift, he gripped your waist and lifted you off his dick, the sudden emptiness making you whine in protest. "not yet, babe. i want that sweet pussy on my face," he ordered, his eyes dark with lust as he maneuvered you upward, guiding you to straddle his face instead.

you hesitated for a split second, but the desire was too strong, and you complied, lowering yourself slowly onto his waiting mouth.

jungkook’s hands slid up your thighs, spreading you open as you settled in, knees on either side of his head, dripping cunt hovering just above his lips. "sit on me, sweetheart, let me taste that fucking mess," he demanded, his breath hot against your sensitive folds, and you sank down fully, weight pressing your pussy against his mouth.

He dove in eagerly, his tongue lashing out to lick a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, the flat of it pressing firmly against your swollen nub before delving deeper.

The sensation was overwhelming, his tongue thrusting into your cunt like a mini-cock, exploring your depths with wet, probing strokes that made your hips buck involuntarily.

Your hands braced against the couch arm, fingers digging into the cushions as you ground down on his face, riding him with the same rough intensity you had used on his dick.

His nose bumped against your clit with every movement, adding to the friction, while his tongue worked inside you, curling and twisting to hit your most sensitive spots, the taste of your arousal coating his lips and chin.

"fuck, yes, eat my pussy just like that," you cried out, voice echoing in the room, tits still bouncing with motions, nipples aching for more attention as you reached down to tweak one herself.

The wet sounds of his licking and sucking filled the air, mixed with your moans and his muffled groans, jungkook’s tattooed hands gripping your ass cheeks to pull you even closer, spreading you to open wider.

You could feel every flick, every suck, the way his lips sealed around your clit and tugged gently, then harder, building the pressure until you were trembling above him.

His stubble scraped against your inner thighs, adding a delicious burn to your heat, and as he thrust his tongue deeper, fucking you with it in short, forceful strokes, you felt the coil inside you snap, orgasm crashing over in waves. "Oh god, jungkook, I'm cumming, don't stop," you screamed, body shaking as you rode his face through the aftershocks, juices flooding his mouth in a hot, sticky rush.

fuck

you were on cloud nine,

and the way jungkook pulled you to his chest and kissed you deeper made you realise that this was going to be a long, long night.

REBLOG PLEASE

a/n - dont ask. started writing this back in oct and now finished it and published it right away, my first properly written smut guys, please give me a break it is my first time i know it can be cringe TT <3

©️NYSAE 2026. please do not copy, translate or steal any of my works.

divider credits to @anitalenia

[ohhowjooniewept]

pirate captain jungkook x hostage y/n

obsessive, smutty

6k

—

the chains had become a second skin now.

what once felt painful, degrading and cruel were now a norm as you laid on filth, rotting away on a boat that had captured both the lives of your family and all will you once had to live. they were both cold and biting, a dull thud left where shooting pain was once dominant.

you didn’t fight them anymore. didn’t fight anything, not when the reprocussions were harsh.

it had been weeks of this.

weeks of unfamiliar voices, darkness, rough waters and rougher hands manhandling you for answers and secrets of treasure despite knowing nothing. steel against steel, clanks of metal hitting surfaces as you had first tried to escape. a punch to the stomach and face had rendered you useless almost immediately.

you came from an extremely wealthy family, and thus had ever really known luxury and comfort. though your parents were cruel in their own right, you managed to evade their taunts by simply sticking to your family grounds, books in hands, and the soft swell of nature calming your every thought.

when your father had announced you were all moving away, to an entirely different country at that, you grimaced. the only way to travel was by boat, and you knew the journey would be anything but smooth - it was the beginning of winter, where the water was at its harshest. only those well equipped with the sea had the bravery to make the journey.

unfortunately, your father was a man of ego, and had continued with his pursuit. soon enough, you were all on a chartered boat, making the month long journey to a land he promised would have greater riches than anyone could muster - not that it meant anything to you.

you were attacked only two weeks in.

you couldn’t remember much, ironically, despite it being fresh in your mind.

the noises, the harshness of the open expanse of water outside, the banging, the sound of guns. it was all too much for your pretty little mind, as you were pulled from your lavish bed chambers, in no more than a sweet nightgown, forced onto another boat and chained immediately.

it had dawned on you that you were the only survivor only a few days after, hearing some of the crew mates boast.

you had tried to fight back in the beginning, but it was no use, constantly being attacked right back, and considering they had the upper hand, it meant little for you to do anything.

now, you were rendered a pile of bones, as you quietly weeped to yourself, left to eat only scraps of food, forgotten about, chained in hopes you would recall a semblance of information that would guide the ship’s captain to treasure.

the silence of the underground room was a norm to you, and it had begun to become comforting, the lull of the waves outside pulling you into sleep.

it didn’t last long.

the second your head began to rest on the wall, noise suddenly erupted above you.

your eyes shot open, causing you to freeze.

violence filtered through the air harshly, your body locking up, your mind subconsciously taking you back to the very moment you were taken a few weeks ago.

boots, shouting, bodies hitting bodies, gunshots, thumps from up above.

you shook your head, breathing ragged.

no. you couldn’t do this. not again.

there was no code of conduct with pirates, this much was common knowledge. you might have been abused by this set, but that was where it ended - if you were found, would you be killed? or worse, kept alive? used?

you began to curl into yourself, hands covering your ears, eyes tightening shut, whimpering as you begged for it to stop. begged for it all to be a nightmare you could wake up from.

a crash penetrated the air louder, closer this time.

footsteps. all around you. not quite in the room but close enough to have you bracing for impact.

you went still completely.

the door creaked open, silence now all across the boat, a horrible feeling settling deep in your stomach. light spilled in suddenly, something you were no longer used to as you felt the sun against your body, kissing over your bruised limbs. your head moved towards the door instinctively, unfocused, pulse hammering continuously.

a figure stepped into view.

it was hardly recognisable.

he wasn’t one of them. no, that much was immediately clear. from the way he sauntered in, to the way his eyes widened a fraction at the sight of you, and your fearful face - even the very clothes adorning his body.

the blonde stood at the bottom of the stairs, head tilting as he took you in, eyes wandering over you inquisitively as though you were an enigma. girls like you didn’t belong in places like this, that much was clear.

“what’s a thing like you doing on a boat like this?” he asked, voice intended for himself and yet you caught his words regardless.

you didn’t answer - how could you?

your fingers tightened on the chain around your wrists, cowering lightly as he approached, closer and closer. your body began to push against the dirty wooden wall, whimpering, the sound of chains filling the empty air.

a sharp, broken sort of noise escaped your lips. “don’t..please..please don’t…”

he stopped immediately, hands flying up to the air.

“i’m not gonna hurt you.” his voice much softer now. careful, in a way that didn’t match the blood stains on his sleeves. “you’re alright.”

you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

“who put you here?” he followed up with, eyebrows narrowing.

your lips parted, but nothing came out. did it even matter? it felt like you were finally looking your demise in the eye, and though you had been begging for death for weeks, to now have a taste of it left you terrified.

your thoughts were startled by a voice from upstairs.

“jimin.”

it wasn’t loud, and yet it carried. filled to the brim with authority and expectation, and judging from the way the man in front of you, who you now knew to be jimin, tensed - it was obvious his captain was calling for him.

he hesitated.

“fuck..okay. i’m getting you out of this.”

you blinked. you didn’t understand.

he stepped forward again, much slower this time, watching as you braced yourself for impact simply due to instinct, but he paired it no mind. instead, he pulled a key hanging from his neck, inserting it into the locked cuffs around your wrists until they were finally free.

you stared at them for a moment, as though they hardly belonged to you, and then, back at him, bewildered.

“can you stand?”

you tried, only managing to fall into a heap the second you used your legs.

he winced on your behalf, encouraging you to try again, grabbing onto your arms lightly, and yet firm enough to offer support. you weren’t sure why you were allowing him to do so, not when you had no idea to his true intention, but you figured he would have already killed you by now if that was what he wanted.

you swayed, as he began leading you up the stairs, the action taking much longer than either of you anticipated. he remained patient.

“close your eyes.”

you frowned, heart beating at the ask. “why?”

“just..” he shook his head, looking ahead for you. “just trust me. keep them shut.”

you couldn’t trust him, not with an inch of your life, and yet you still obeyed, legs shaking as you followed his every command.

perhaps it was the finality in his tone that felt like the only safe option left.

the air changed first. the salt in air felt harsh against your lungs, a reprieve of freshness after being hidden away for so long. you could hear voices, far away, and then suddenly much closer as you walked, leaning into the man who had given you freedom.

you could feel the open space around you, both wider and bigger, the way your feet braced against each plank of wood. it suddenly felt different. smoother, softer - cleaner.

“you can open them now.”

and so you did.

the first thing you noticed were the 6 men in front of you, each staring at you in a sense of confusion, some muttering things under their breath, one even tilting his head as though this was a literal joke.

it was the man in the middle, however, who had your knees almost buckling.

you felt it before you even looked at him. the authority, the stance, even the way his clothes sat on his body as though he was born to wear them. a heavy hat on his head, his chest wider than any man you had ever dared to look at, with a gaze so loaded you were sure you could feel it in your stomach.

this was the captain.

your breath caught. you didn’t need to ask, not when he was the one they were glancing to for answers. his fingers were flexing, his eyes running over every inch of you, from your body that sat bare underneath the sheer nightgown, to your hair that was far too messy given your status. it took one look at you to know you were here against your will, and another to understand the depth of your fear.

he couldn’t look away from you, despite the intimacy, despite the audience. not even when jimin spoke, voice almost solemn.

“found her below.” quiet, respect loaded through his tone as he addressed his captain. “locked up.”

jeon jungkook stepped towards you then, heavy boots loud against his wooden floor. he didn’t need to tell his crew to look away from you, they understood their job - as the others began to dissipate, looting the ship they had taken you from, and discarding the bodies.

the way he was staring at you had you chest visibly rising and falling, your weakened body shaking as you struggled to stay up right.

he approached you, closer and closer and closer and closer. he was in front of you now, hand darting outwards, and your body felt itself sinking closer to him without thinking, as though your very soul knew him, recognising what belonged to her and her alone.

his hand touched you, your cheek to begin with. it sat light, barely there, before moving down to your chin, tilting it up to look at him, almost forcing you to meet his eyes in the same challenged stare.

“what’s your name?” he asked.

your lips parted, struggling. you told it to him anyway, watching it sit heavy in his mouth before he repeated it under his breath, like a sweet secret he had yearned to find.

“you’re not from here.” more observation than question.

you shook your head faintly, chin still held by him.

“they..they took me and..and they killed..” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your breathing growing erratic.

he took that as his queue to lightly shake his head at you, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your distress.

“you have no home?” he asked, and though the question felt cruel, he needed to know.

you shook your head again, bottom lip trembling. you had nothing. girls like you that were orphaned were doomed - you had nothing, no family, in the middle of nowhere, and it wasn’t like you could return to the city, not when your father had sold the home, and burned every bridge he could with his boastful tendencies. even the fortune you had lived with and were promised had been used to set sail, meaning you were desolate.

his jaw ticked at the thought.

you? oh so sweet, so precious. one look at you and he could feel his stomach churn, your too big eyes and your doved lips. did you know what kind of effect you were having on him, or were you blissfully unaware?

oh, he was hardly a good man. no, never. the thought of you alone with no prospects almost brought him glee, knowing he could now be a saviour to you, someone that could offer you salvation for the price of your heart, mind and soul. he had seen life’s greatest treasures, but it was you, the maiden that was found locked away that glittered truly in his brain.

“i will offer you shelter. food. stability. you will have refuge here. my men will not touch you, nor will they disturb you.” he muttered down at you, your eyelids drooping at his words, as though you were in a dream, hearing words that could only ever be uttered in utopia. “those men are no longer living, and can’t hurt you no longer.”

your lip began to quiver.

“but, why? are..are you gonna use me too? i don’t know anything, i promise.” you quietly admitted through teary eyes, though you knew that for most, it was a death warrant.

his eyes darkened at that, as the hand on your chin returned to its previous spot against your cheek, cupping it, allowing for warmth against your cold skin. you couldn’t help but lean into it subconsciously.

“you will belong to me.” he whispered, as though these words were for you and for him alone. “and only me.”

your breath hitched.

you should’ve wanted to run. should’ve jumped from the side of the ship in fear, or bargained for more than he was offering you.

and yet, you felt your stomach wave gently along with the sea, as though his words were the sweetest thing your desperate heart had ever heard. to belong, entirely, to one was a testament of ownership - to be owned, possessed as though you were a jewel, it brought a sense of comfort in your fearful soul.

so, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze once more, lightly nodding at his words.

“okay.”

—

you couldn’t remember the last time you had woken alone.

your body had now grown accustomed to heat, to hands harsh against your stomach and back, often cupping your ass as a means to push bodies against one another intimately despite being asleep.

you weren’t sure how it became routine so quickly, but the prospect of it ending terrified you, caused you to hold tighter to the bare chest that engulfed you entirely in the large bed that hardly felt big enough.

the sea had been harsh the first few months. you were still in the thick of winter at that point, and despite having your own living quarters on jungkook’s ship, the isolation terrified you. you hated being alone, often crying quietly until one of the other men took pity on you and let you sleep in their shared rooms, as though you were no more than a little kitten without a mother.

when jungkook found out, being notified by one of his crew, he had your things moved into his almost immediately.

you had only found out once you were already about to go to sleep, dreading another night of silence and harsh waves, only to be told by hoseok that the captain was waiting for you. you had knocked, only to walk into your things now sat in his room as though it was natural.

he didn’t bother to speak, or look at you at first, simply unbuttoning his shirt with utter ease. once he did, and he stood before you, shirtless, he beckoned you over to the bed as though it was completely natural.

of course, you had to listen to your captain.

you slid into his covers, melting into the luxury feel of them, a nod to your previous life, causing you to whine lightly. the prospect of no longer sleeping alone felt euphoric, but once jungkook actually joined you, chest bare as he grabbed your body, positioning you so he completely engulfed you, you realised this was what you needed all along.

you were cocooned in his arms, soft little noises of comfort leaving your lips as you brazeningly breathed in the musk of his skin, thin night dress doing nothing to hide your chaste body.

this was now routine.

for months, no matter weather or time, you would sleep in his arms, cocooned so every inch of your body was wrapped in him, intimately. he never touched you on any other occasion, causing your head to go for a loop as you yearned for him to push further, almost desperate for him to take what now belonged to him.

the tragic part of it all was you couldn’t even think for yourself anymore.

you would wake up, snuggling deeper into his arms, whining loudly if he tried to get up. he indulged you too often, letting you have your way as you would lay on top of him, playing with his hair or pressing against him in a way that was the direct opposite of innocence.

“stay.” you would beg, despite knowing you had pushed for too much, eyes meeting his in a hooded way.

the feel of him against your core everytime you pushed back was what you deemed paradise to be, hidden away from the outside worlds, a captain and his sweet prized possession.

even now, as you laid in his arms, your back to his chest, his cock hardened and harsh against your panties, your night dress pushed to your hips despite the both of you pretending this wasn’t happening. his arms were around you, flush against you as you could feel every inch of his body, entirely engulfed by jungkook.

“you came back so late.” you whispered, eyebrows furrowing as you played with his fingers. “felt’so scared.”

“we had a job.” he whispered into your ear.

he never let you into what he and the others would do, but you were no idiot. you had washed enough blood out of their clothes to know the kindness they had bestowed upon you was not easily handed out to others - they were infamous for a reason.

and yet, here you were. untouched, safe, protected even.

your fingers traced over his knuckles absentmindedly, much smaller in comparison to his big hands as he let you toy with him, watching you in the intense way you had now grown accustomed to. no one was allowed to touch him, nevermind indulge the way you did, but it seemed he was more than happy for you to.

it made you feel special.

“..missed you.” you admitted, almost pathetically, as your big eyes peered focused on his hands through your lashes, a nervous tint to your words.

his grip tightened around you, biceps curling around your body as he managed to pull you even tighter against him, your bodies pushed so intimately against one another. he allowed for his nose to drop between your shoulder and neck, breathing in your scent as though your words had entirely undone him.

he wasn’t one for words, or delicate sonnets. he didn’t know how to treat you the way a man ought to have treat a woman of your status - he wasn’t accustomed to it. a man like him fucked, claimed, pounded, and yet he had let you into his bed completely untouched save from the way his cock would strain against you, the both of you covered by flimsy material.

he was learning for you. adapting. it made your brain spin.

his lips grazed your neck, planting the faintest of kisses, his tongue lightly slipping through to caress your neck, causing a slight intake of your breath.

“i brought you a gift.” he whispered then, monopolising the fact he was so close to your ear.

your eyelashes fluttered as you shyly looked up at him over your shoulder, excitement bubbling in your stomach despite trying to stamp it down.

“really? for me?”

it wasn’t like it was unusual - your shared room was filled to the brim with treasures and trinkets he found that made him think of you, always coming back to you with a present that had you giggling for the rest of the night. you had once been a young woman who lived in luxury - jungkook understood you well.

“what is it?” you pushed as you slipped from his grip, all whilst he remained laid down, watching you.

he looked hazy, as though the heat emitting from you was a drug in itself, a personal brand of opium meant to destroy him. through another look at your pebbled nipples beneath your dress, he sat up alongside you, reaching behind you into a drawer, eyes trained.

your breath hitched.

once he held it up, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

a necklace.

heavy, intricate, dripping in deep, large stones that you knew cost more than anything you had ever owned combined. they glinted like they owned light itself, rubies perhaps, or maybe something more expensive, deeper. it belonged on the neck of a queen, not on a ship that reeked of salt and ocean.

your fingers lifted over it, hovering, as though you were too scared to touch it, eyes wide.

“jungkook…this is..”

“turn around.”

his command had you moving immediately, moving your hair up and away, hands shaking as you did.

you felt him move closer, his breath on your neck once more, where he planted a row of sweet kisses, a faux innocence left against your skin where heat and passion slipped in.

the necklace was placed on you, and you were immediately winded by both its beauty and weight.

it sat heavy on you, a reminder of its worth, and your fingers brushed over it faintly, in disbelief. this was yours? you didn’t even care how he had obtained it, no doubt through thievery and murder, and yet here was gifting it to you in such a sweet way. how could you not feel for him? how could your heart not belong to the captain who returned to your shared bed each night?

as you turned to face him, eyelids heavy in a deep, curling want, he matched your composure. he wanted nothing more than to ruin you, then and there, with the innocent way you were looking up at him, knowing how filthy your mind was, how equally as desperate you were to be claimed once and for all.

“beautiful.” he had whispered, instead, before placing you in his arms once more.

—

the necklace had become a soft sort of staple between you now.

each night, jungkook would return only to find you sat in front of the vanity, admiring it, giggling quietly to yourself, only for you to go on and on about how much you adored it. you felt so pretty wearing it, and knowing it was given to you by him only made your head so hazy.

jungkook was a man led by power and control. he had become captain effortlessly, and even easier, he had become feared across the sea - other pirates knew to flee once they saw his flag upon his ship, and those on land chanted his name like a legend.

you, his sweet, girl. all he wanted to do was spoil you until you were rotten to the fucking core. watching how excited you were over jewels simply egged him on further as he brought you more and more and more and more. soon enough, your vanity was filled with some of the finest riches a man could buy, and though he knew he could have gotten a profit, seeing them sat on your body was everything he needed.

the night was long once he returned to the ship after looting a smaller island, knowing treasure had been buried recently by a fellow pirating ship. he almost scoffed with how easy this shit was by now, annoyed at the lack of challenge, steam emitting from his skin at the thought. it was insulting.

he had been in a foul mood all day, barking orders at his crew, harsh words leaving his lips in barrels as he commanded the death of multiple people with a mere flick of his wrist. he had no care for anyone that wasn’t you, a thought that was both sick and heavy. he hoped you knew it.

returning home to you was what his bones needed, and as he watched everyone return to their rooms, save for the two manning the ship, he too began his descent down towards where you were.

only, he stopped immediately once small noises began to filter through his ears.

moans. quiet.

for the smallest of seconds, rage filtered through his body at the thought of someone being in there with you, making him move his legs much quicker than he was even realising. he yanked the door open, slamming it to the wall only to be met with a sight that had him nearly undone immediately.

you, on the bed, hair flushed around the pillow, curled into the luxurious bedding he had picked for you solely, completely naked save for the heavy necklace adorning your delicate neck. jungkook’s eyes however couldn’t stray away from the two little fingers you were thrusting in and out of yourself, all whilst whimpering salty tears down your face.

“kookie..” you whined out through a hiccup, not bothering to halt your movements.

you were too far gone.

the moment he had left you that morning, you had felt pent up, his faint touches and kisses enough to drive you insane - you knew he wanted you, badly at that judging from the way he would grunt and grind against you for relief, and yet he refused to own you the way your body wanted.

he was a pirate. you knew pirates were often in whorehouses, fucking and relieving any stress, the thought making you feel sick once you realised he potentially might be going elsewhere. he was yours, and you were his, he had proven that much - you wanted him to use you finally.

and so, you had been plunging your fingers in and out of yourself, building yourself up to a high only to be let down once you came. it wasn’t enough. nothing felt enough.

this resulted in you leaving an utter mess on the bed, with your legs spread wide, tears streaming down your face, desperate to feel relief as your poor pussy clenched, begging for more.

oh, and jungkook. one look at you and he understood entirely.

your sopping cunt was clenching desperately around your fingers, and with each step closer to you, he could feel his cock straining harshly against his slacks. you were a vision, with a sick part of him hoping you’d be this tearful always with how beautiful you looked undone.

he grabbed your hand roughly, bringing your fingers up to his mouth before sucking on them.

his tongue was mean, lapping at every edge and crevice, making you feel his skill with no real relief and yet you felt undone just by his actions. you were a twitching mess, poor pussy begging to be ruined by him.

he pulled out your fingers with a grunt, chest heaving slightly before he immediately began hovering over you, caging you into the bed like you were pathetic prey.

“tried to treat you like a lady. tried to treat you like the woman you are, but you didn’t want that, huh?” he hissed down at you, using a tone of voice you had never heard directed at you. you clenched around nothing, letting out a hiccup. “just wanted to be fucked, like a common whore.”

“wanna’be your whore.” you whimpered through a sob, arms going up to wrap around his neck, to which he grunted at you, head dropping against yours.

“yeah?” he grazed his nose against your cheek. “want me to ruin you, y/n? you’ll never be able to show your face anywhere again.” he warned.

unmarried girls in your society who were secret whores were shunned, even he knew that - but to be fucked by a pirate? that was as close to a living death sentence you could possibly get.

you clenched around nothing.

“don’t care about that. don’t you wanna have me forever?” you asked, eyes so hopeful he could have screamed, his chest tightening in a way he couldn’t explain.

at that, he grabbed your syrupy hand, breathing slightly erratic as he pushed it against his hardened length, the painful bulge showing you the depths of his need for you. you let out a shaking breath, one arm still around his neck whilst his other hand caged you into him, his hand guiding you to massage over his hidden cock.

“do you feel that? feel what you do to me?” he whispered, voice eerily calm. “i would keep you for fucking lifetimes. keep you in this room until my dying breath.”

your eyes fluttered shut at his words, whining pathetically as though he had gifted you a large jewel once more, your hand massaging his cock.

“please..want you.” you begged him once more, eyes leaking fresh tears from the aching emptiness inside of you.

it only took a minute, but soon enough, jungkook too was naked, scarred body on full display before he grabbed his too large cock, your body seizing up immediately at the sight of how thick and long he was. you knew you couldn’t back out now, not when he was staring at you like you had finally given him the one thing he needed.

you watched as he rubbed it over your folds, grunting at how sloppy you felt. so wet all over, ready to be punished, ready to be used by him and him alone. after hours of toying with yourself, you were more than prepped, and yet when jungkook finally began pushing inside of you, he nearly choked from how tight you were.

you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t bring yourself to draw a single breath as he pushed and pushed and pushed until he was fully inside, your breath completely caught by the overwhelming pain and pleasure of being entirely broken by a cock too large.

he could feel you clenching around him, making him hiss as he immediately grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him.

“look at you.” he grunted, rolling his hips, grinding it further inside of you. you choked, clawing at his biceps, fingers leaving reddened marks all over him as a means to breathe. “should have treated you like a slut from the moment i let you into this bed. that’s what you needed, huh? didn’t wanna think, just wanted to be fucked.”

he pulled back, before beginning to thrust, caring little that you were struggling to adjust. this is what you wanted after all, and he wasn’t about to let you tap out now. you truly were a spoiled little brat, and he was going to fuck it out of you just so he could spoil you some more.

his thrusts were mean, the heavy jewellery on your neck bouncing as he all but pounded into you, forcing you to take every inch as you sobbed for more, feeling your pussy stretch in a way you could have only ever dreamt about.

one look down at your stomach had you crying out his name, back arching as you could see a faint bulge from where he was fucking you, your eyes falling to the back of your head. he, too, liked that more than he was willing to admit, with one hand pressing down meanly, causing you to squeak.

“feels s’good.” you whimpered at him, legs shaking as he pulled them up and over his shoulders, forcing himself in deeper.

he was leaving kisses against your cervix, your body jolting with each pound of his cock, making no effort to be sweet or gentle with you. neither of you wanted that, neither of you craved a slow fuck - these feelings between you, the tension that had been building, it was all here. he was making love to you in the only way he knew how, and the only way you had dreamt about.

“should’ve found you sooner, baby. should’ve corrupted you in your own home.” he was hissing in your ear. “what would people say? sweet, little y/n, letting a dirty pirate fuck her in her own bed.”

you clenched hard, causing him to grunt.

“would’ve let you.” you admitted through teary eyes, nodding, clawing at his chest and back.

your words were like music to his ears, a secret comfort to know you would’ve wanted him no matter the scenario.

“girl like you deserves a wedding, a house..fuck. needs stability.” you shook your head, whimpering, hitting his chest at the implication of his words. “don’t want that, wanna be with you..wanna be here.”

“yeah? my pretty girl just needs to be fucked by me, right?” he cooed, condescending but it still had you nodding up at him, eyes carrying stars.

soon enough, he pushed forward, pinning you into a mean and aching mating press, the sound of this thrusts filling the air as skin against skin slapped loudly, the bed creaking. you knew everyone could hear what was going on, and despite being in the middle of the ocean, you knew your moans carried.

“so good to me. taking every inch.” his words were quiet now, heavier, as he forced you to maintain eye contact. you were a babbling mess, crying as you felt him so much deeper in this position. “so deep.”

you were pulling at his hair, equally as harsh causing him to hiss.

“i’d give you anything, y/n. fuck.. anything you want, you hear me? this ship, my title, anything. just need you and this cunt forever.”

his words hit you like a tidal wave, causing your body to seize up as your high hit you without warning, your body lifting in an uncomfortable position whilst he too forced you down, legs over his shoulders, forcing you to take every single inch of his hardened cock.

you couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t speak. all you fould do was take and take and take as your orgasm ran through your limbs harshly, your cunt becoming even soppier. jungkook felt you clench around him tightly, causing him to hiss as he took one of his hands and wrapped it around your delicate neck.

the jewelled necklace began biting into your soft neck as his fingers tightened, forcing you to come back to him, forcing you to stare up at him helpless whilst he fucked you into overstimulation.

“going to cum inside you, y/n. make you feel me in your fucking womb.”

his pounding was downright cruel, your aching pussy begging for relief around him as you cried, banging against his shoulders once more, despite wanting more. you needed more. you couldn’t think until you were leaking.

he stayed true to his promise, giving you one final, mean, thrust before stilling, breathing heavy into your shoulder, cumming inside of you for what felt like eons. you could feel his cum dribbling on either side of him, your plugged hole clenching harshly, milking him for every drop.

your chest was heaving, eyes falling and opening as every bit of your body felt alive. he eased your legs down, massaging the ache in your thighs as he remained inside of you, both of your chests heaving harshly.

“my girl.” he whispered down at you through ragged breaths, planting kisses all over your face, slowly fucking the cum into you despite the both of you being intensely overstimulated.

you whined at his words and actions, still crying, still a leaking mess, fingers digging into his biceps.

“promise?” you begged him, a pathetic stream of need laced in your voice. oh, how he loved it.

he simply pulled away from you for a moment, so that he could look at your face properly, before dropping down once more, salted lips pressing against the softness of your own for the first time.

a promise to you, made from his heart. he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

—

surprise ❤️

arirang is genuinely probably my favourite bts album of all time which if you know me and my feelings for dark & wild, you know this is no easy feat

seeing jungkook on that damn boat 💔 need dat

hope u guys liked this drabble that is literally a mini fic lol, as always, if there’s anything you guys think, lmk!! i love hearing your thoughts!!

if you wanna help a struggling londoner pay her disgusting rent, my kofi is here!!

love you so bad ❤️

[minsung-archived]

ARIRANG — behind the scenes @ music core (251122)