I’ve wanted to do this for a while, so here it is! It took some time, but it was necessary for me to better organise everything. It will keep being updated. I hope it can help anyone find fics they like. Also, I would like to thank all those amazing authors for giving us such amazing stories! Happy reading🫶🏾
as soon as you flipped the bakery sign to closed, the warmth from the ovens started fading from the walls. midnight clung to the windows in dark distorted reflections, the quiet of the shop settling deep into your bones. you were wiping the last traces of powdered sugar off the counter when the bell above the door rang.
the sharp sound startled you. your heart instantly hammering against your ribs—a knee-jerk reflex your body still carried from a childhood spent waiting for the next blow to fall.
you looked up, eyes wide and glassy under the dim light, to see the regular. a tall shadow dressed in black with a heavy hoodie pulled over his head. usually, he came to just buy two cinnamon rolls. exactly two. but tonight, his stare was piercing. his footsteps growing louder and louder as he cut through the empty space toward the counter. curiosity stirred beneath your panic, but the sheer size of him kept you frozen.
“h-hi.” your voice stuttered, small and trembling. “h-how can i help you?”
“don’t be afraid.” he pulled the hoodie back, exposing dark hair and eyes so intense you were certain he could hear your pulse racing. “it’s me. i’m just here to order.”
“o-oh. we’re closed right now. b-but i could quickly make somethi—”
“just wanted to order forty cinnamon rolls for tomorrow night. have them delivered here.” he slid a piece of crumpled paper across the clean counter, followed by a thick heavy bundle of cash. “this is more than enough to cover.”
you looked from the money to his face, completely shocked. this bakery wasn’t popular. it was minimal space, minimal treats, a quiet corner of the world where the same few people only knew about. nobody did pre-orders. nobody asked for delivery. forty items in twenty-four hours felt impossible for your hands alone.
“not a word to anyone,” he warned. his voice firm, grounding you in the reality of the thick stack of bills.
“o-okay. i can—” you gulped, “—can do this. what time would you like for me—”
“same time as now would be good.” the reply was instant and sharp, clearly wanting to get this over with.
you gave him a small, hesitant nod. a slight smirk touched his lips. he knew he had you. your vulnerability was entirely to his advantage and he didn’t hesitate to use it. he turned on his heel, walking back toward the door with that same heavy stride.
“remember, not a word, sweetheart.” he said, pausing halfway out the open door. he turned his face back toward you, a wicked little wink accompanying the index finger he pressed to his lips to gesture a ‘shh’.
then, the door clicked shut, leaving you alone within the silent four walls.
the next morning, the bell above the door didn’t stop ringing. juggling the front counter for customers while rushing back to the ovens had you constantly on your feet, moving in a dizzying rhythm. you weren’t usually fond of the bitter taste of coffee, but today, you relied entirely on the cheap caffeine boost to keep your hands moving.
by the time the closing hours arrived, the shop finally emptied out, leaving you alone in the quiet kitchen to finish the final touches.
as you carefully packed the warm golden pastries into large boxes, a rare spark of pride flared in your chest. you had done it all on your own and right on time. your life had never been particularly interesting or eventful, but this order had given you a challenge to meet. you smiled down at the neat rows of rolls, clapping your flour-dusted hands together in a silent celebration.
~
the walk to the unknown address felt endless. midnight had turned the streets quiet, the cold in the air made your skin prickle. you had never liked walking alone at night, but following a crumpled piece of paper to a place you had never heard of was an entirely different kind of cold. a sharp sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally reached the destination.
the regular was already there leaning against a rusted pipe by the entrance, tapping away on his phone. seeing him brought a strange sudden wave of comfort—proof that you hadn’t been lured out here for nothing.
at the sound of your delicate footsteps, he looked up and that same confident smirk spread across his face. “knew you’d come through, sweetheart.”
you offered a polite nod, handing over the two heavy boxes. he grunted under the weight, lifting the lid of one to inhale the rich sweet scent of yeast and cinnamon. a satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. “atta girl. no icing on the rolls, just how we like ’em.”
“y-yeah,” you murmured, giving a small breathy laugh. “i-i made sure everything was exact.”
“thanks. my boy loves your hands.”
the words caught you off guard. his boy? you blinked, confusion written plainly across your face. but before you could ask what he meant, he reached into his pocket and handed you another small wad of bills.
“for your troubles. go home, sweetheart. and remember what i said?”
“n-not a word,” you whispered, your eyes growing wide.
he didn’t reply, only offering a sharp smirk before gesturing with his head for you to turn back toward the safety of the main road.
he expected you to leave. you knew you should have. but as you watched him disappear through the heavy doors of the building, your feet stayed glued to the pavement. the structure was a massive decaying two-story brick warehouse, completely covered in layers of jagged graffiti. what caught your attention though, were the names. dozens of male names were scrawled across the brick and every single one of them had a thick dark line carved right through the center. crossed out. eliminated.
driven by a sudden unexplainable urge to pique your curiosity, you pushed through the heavy exterior doors. the deeper you walked into the decaying concrete labyrinth, the more the silence began to fracture. a low vibrating hum echoed through the floorboards. cheering. screaming. a muffled chaotic roar that grew sharper as you passed a steep flight of stairs leading into the basement. you took a breath, stepped down the stairwell, and pushed open the final set of double doors.
the reality of the room hit you like a physical blow. before you could even think about turning back, the sheer mass of the crowd swallowed you whole. the underground hall was far too small for the hundreds of people packed inside, forcing bodies to shove and slam against one another in a frantic wave. within seconds, you were swept away from the exit.
panic flared, suffocating your lungs until you finally managed to press your back against a solid concrete wall. trapped between the solid stone and a wall of strangers, you finally took in your surroundings.
the air reeked of stale beer, sweat, and cheap tobacco. overhead, flickering fluorescent lights casted jarring shadows across the room, accompanied by the deafening pulse of heavy bass that made your teeth rattle. the sensory overload was dizzying. and suddenly, the music cut out entirely.
the sudden silence lasted for a fraction of a second before the room erupted into a deafening noise of whistles and pounding chants. bright spotlight beams swung toward the center of the hall, illuminating a massive chain-link cage stained with sweat and old darkened blood. a rough voice echoed over the cracking speakers, vibrating right through the concrete against your spine.
“ALRIGHT, YOU FILTHY BASTARDS! ARE WE READY?!”
your heart stopped. an underground boxing match.
the announcer’s voice bled into the frenzy of the crowd, introducing the first fighter—a name you couldn’t even make out over the roaring audience. but when the announcer turned to the opposite corner, the noise doubled, vibrating the very foundations of the building. “—AND IN THE OTHER CORNER…”
the crowd didn’t even let him finish the name. they already knew who was coming.
shaken by the sheer volume, you instantly pressed your small hands over your ears, your knees trembling as the crowd went completely feral. the air in the room shifted, growing heavier, thicker, charged with a terrifying kind of reverence.
then, he walked out.
he moved with a slow, lethal grace, walking as if he owned the ring, the crowd, and every lungful of air in the room. he was tall, his right arm entirely covered in solid dark ink that stretched up to his shoulder. his chest was bare, exposing a powerful physique marked by a few healing scars. he turned in a slow circle, absorbing the worship of the room, his jaw tight with a dangerous arrogance. he struck his own chest with a heavy fist, a brief dismissive display of power that sent the audience into a renewed madness.
as he always did before a fight, his dark eyes began to scan the room, looking at how people were disgustingly loud just at mere presence of him, his ego higher than the Burj Khalifa. until his gaze hit the back wall.
the contrast was instantaneous. amidst a sea of sweating, screaming, violent faces, there you were—a fragile wide-eyed girl pressed hard against the concrete, looking like a lost lamb trapped in a den of wolves.
his entire posture locked.
the roaring crowd, the flashing lights, the opponent waiting in the center of the ring—everything seemed to dull into background noise. his dark piercing eyes anchored onto yours, tracking the visible tremor in your frame. something violent and possessive gripped him by the throat, a sudden primal need to pull you out of that crowd and claim you as his own. a slow lethal smirk touched his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he blindly raised his gloves, ready to tear into the man across from him.
the fight dragged on for nearly two hours. by the time the underground hall finally began to empty, your breath was shallow, your entire frame still trembling. you could feel the tight, uncomfortable pull of dried tears on your cheeks. the match had been far too violent to look at; you had kept your eyes squeezed shut the entire time, but covering your ears hadn’t been enough to block out the reality of what was happening.
you hadn’t known it, but the brutality in the ring had reached a gruesome new level tonight solely because he was throwing every strike for an audience of one. between rounds, his eyes had repeatedly searched the dark perimeter for your fragile silhouette, only to find you small, frozen, and hiding from the sight of him. he had found it almost amusing. endearing, even.
the moment the last of the spectators drifted toward the exit, you moved, desperate to escape. your body was operating purely on fight-or-flight instincts, driving you up the concrete stairs and out into the crisp midnight air.
you collapsed against the exterior brick wall to catch your breath, panting heavily. your legs felt like lead; there was no way you could walk home in this state, not this late. pulling out your phone, you did something you never did—you called a taxi. usually, the steep fare was a luxury you couldn’t afford, but the heavy bundle of cash your regular had handed you earlier made the expense a necessity.
five minutes later, the headlights of a sedan cut through the dark. you practically threw yourself into the backseat, hurriedly murmuring your address to the driver. the man gave a quiet nod, shifting the car into drive and letting it roll forward. you were halfway through buckling your seatbelt when the brakes slammed. the sudden jerk caught you off guard, followed immediately by three heavy knocks against the driver’s side window.
you froze, peering between the front seats as the driver rolled down the glass. standing under the dim streetlamp was the boxer. he was still flushed from the ring, sweat glistening on his forehead, his knuckles raw and split. without a word, he flicked a hundred-dollar bill through the window, dropping it carelessly onto the console.
“keep the change,” he bartered, his voice a low gravelly rasp..
the driver didn’t hesitate. he rolled the window up and pressed the gas, leaving the curb behind.
your head snapped toward the side window. you stared through the glass and he stared right back, his dark gaze heavier and more consuming than before. he brought a cigarette to his lips as the car pulled away, his head turned slowly, tracking you, refusing to break eye contact for even a fraction of a second.
right before the shadows swallowed him, a predatory smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. he knew he had terrified you. he knew he was a monster from a world you didn’t belong to. but as he watched the taillights of your taxi disappear into the night, the tight ugly coil of possessiveness in his chest only wrapped tighter around his heart. you were a soft pretty thing, a stark contrast to the filth he lived in—and jungkook knew, with an absolute and terrifying certainty, that he was never going to let you go.
~
three days had passed, and he completely occupied your mind. you had received your share of smirks from men before, but his had been different. no matter how desperately you tried to focus on the rhythm of the bakery, those dark eyes and bruised knuckles remained burned into the back of your thoughts.
and jungkook? he had only grown more restless by the day. whenever a memory of your fragile figure crossed his mind, a rare smile tugged at his lips—though never when anyone was looking. there had never been anything in his brutal life worth smiling about, but the mere thought of you made his chest tighten. you didn’t belong in his world, and that exact contrast had started a fire he had no intention of putting out.
“fuck’s wrong with you?” the rough voice of his trainer broke the silence of the studio, snapping jungkook out of his thoughts.
“nothing,” he snapped back coldly, irritated that the daydream had been cut short.
“yeah, bullshit. match’s in two weeks and you’re completely out of it. snap back.”
“tell me something i don’t know.”
“is it her? the girl that night?” his trainer scoffed, a knowing smirk forming on his face as he watched his champion. “saw you lookin’ at her. those rolls you love so much, that’s her baking.”
jungkook’s posture immediately locked. “what’s her name.”
“ahh, she’s my sweetheart,” the older man teased, intentionally pushing his buttons to see how deep the hook went. “sweetest little thing.”
jungkook tensed, his knuckles whitening as he barely stopped himself from grabbing his trainer by the collar. “don’t call her that.”
his trainer smirked, “there he is.”
he raised his hands in a mocking surrender, though his eyes stayed sharp. “look, i don’t know her name. i just call her that, you know me. i even told her to go home. but i need you on your game, kid. you’re too distracted and you’re as good as dead if you don’t focus. get up and fight.”
jungkook didn’t offer a reply, only throwing a bitter glare at the man before turning back to the heavy bag.
the studio filled with the rhythmic sounds of strikes. jungkook channeled the sudden surge of possessive anger into the leather, each punch hitting harder than the last.
mine. a violent left hook. mine. a heavy kick. mine. he threw his entire weight into the bag, his chest heaving as the shadow of any other man looking at you fueled his strength.
across the room, the trainer watched him through the wall mirror while taking a drink of water. he had never seen jungkook fight like a maniac driven by passion rather than discipline. in their line of work, attachment was a liability. and with the quarter-finals just two weeks away, the obsession was a dangerous wild card.
when the session finally ended, jungkook stood under the steaming water of the locker room showers, letting the heat wash over his strained muscles. he closed his eyes and the image of your face instantly brought a foreign sense of peace to his chaotic mind, one that quickly bled into a heavy aching heat low in his pelvis as his body hardened at the mere thought of your softness. the sheer intensity of wanting you was a dizzying rush—sweeter and far more lethal than any vice he had ever touched before. you were quickly becoming his favorite addiction.
after drying off, he pulled on a clean black long-sleeve, his usual woody cologne cutting through the damp air of the locker room. he slung his backpack over his shoulder and moved toward the exit. a man like him didn’t pursue something unless he intended to make it permanently his. he pulled his helmet on, snapping the visor down over his eyes. the engine of his motorcycle roared to life as he tore out into the street, turning away from his apartment and heading straight toward the quiet corner of the city.
~
the bakery had long gone quiet by the time you finished cleaning the last tray. only the faint hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the wall clock kept you company. you let out a tired sigh, wiping your hands on your apron as you scanned the small shop one last time.
oven off. register closed. back door locked.
after finally convincing yourself that everything was in place, you stepped out and locked the front door behind you. the cold night air immediately kissed your skin. adjusting the strap of your bag, you locked your gaze onto the pavement.
you barely made it five steps… “thanks for coming.”
you jumped, a violent lurch of adrenaline spiking in your chest. you spun around, bracing for a threat, only to freeze when you saw the tall figure leaning against the brick wall with a sly smirk on his lips.
as the panic began to leave your body, your shoulders dropped, your breath catching in the chilly air and condensing into a small cloud between you. jungkook watched it fade, completely mesmerized. he felt a sudden, absurd urge to trap that little cloud of breath in his palms—just to have proof that he could possess a piece of you.
you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, let alone digest the fact that the boxer was in front of you and thanking you for showing up the other night. you simply watched him step away from the wall as he closed the distance. he looked dangerous, yet there was a deep unreadable fondness in his gaze that kept you pinned to the spot. up close, the clean, sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifted off your skin, hitting his senses so heavily his thoughts instantly turned dark. he wanted to taste it.
he let out a low grunt to ground himself. “been thinking about you.”
the confession hit you harder than it should have. your stomach tightened under his stare, your heart hammering against your ribs, but your instincts weren’t telling you to run. and you knew you should run from a man like him.
“y-you’re scaring me,” you managed to whisper.
his smirk only grew. “all the more reason to walk you home.”
before you could even process the words, he took a few steps ahead, turning back to look at you over his shoulder. “you coming?”
silence settled between you as you fell into step beside him. the only sound in the empty streets was the crisp crunch of your shoes against the gravel. jungkook walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders relaxed despite the possessive storm brewing underneath his skin. every nerve in his body screamed at him to reach out—to take your hand, to touch your sleeve, to feel the small of your back. but he restrained himself. he didn’t want to startle his little lamb.
beside him, your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. you wanted to break the heavy quiet, your mouth opening and closing as you searched for anything to say, but your mind was too overwhelmed to find the words. jungkook noticed your hesitation immediately. amused by your internal conflict, he kept his pace steady, patiently waiting for you to collect yourself.
“y-you didn’t have to do this,” you finally muttered.
he kept his eyes on the road ahead. “i know.”
you swallowed hard, fidgeting with your fingers. “y-you always… w-walk people home?”
jungkook paused for half a step, cutting his eyes down to you. “just you.”
the weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. the silence returned, but as you took the final turn toward your apartment building, the suffocating tension had shifted into something almost comfortable.
your steps slowed unconsciously as the old building came into view. dim hallway lights flickered weakly behind the grime-stained windows, and the paint peeled along the exterior walls from years of neglect. suddenly, a sharp prickle of embarrassment crept up your spine. you became acutely aware of the cracked concrete stairs, the rusted railings, and the terrible lighting.
you turned to face him, forcing a small breath past your lips. “u-umm… th-thank you for walking me.”
his gaze shifted from the decaying building to settle on your face. inside his pockets, his hands balled into tight, hard fists, his short nails biting into his palms to keep from reaching for you. his dark eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“get inside,” he commanded, his voice firm, low, and rough around the edges.
your lips parted slightly at the quiet intensity of his tone. you gave him a smallhesitant nod, turning toward the entrance. you didn’t have to look back to know he wouldn’t move an inch until you were safely behind locked doors.
the familiar silence of your rented studio welcomed you back instantly. your shoulders finally dropped as you leaned against the door, your eyes wandering across the small space. the mattress resting on the floor. the dim lamp near the wall. the neatly folded clothes tucked inside your duffel bag in the corner. the worn stuffed bunny sitting near your pillow exactly where you had left it this morning. everything looked the same. so why did you feel so different?
the cold night air felt sharper now that you were gone. jungkook walked down the empty street alone, his black boots scraping softly against the pavement as he made his way toward his bike. no one looking at him now would have guessed the chaotic mess sitting underneath his ribs.
he could have brought the bike closer. he could have offered you a ride, too. but jungkook understood that too much, too soon, would only send a girl like you running. so he had walked beside you instead. matched your pace. and fuck, he’d do it again.
his jaw tightened slightly as your apartment building flashed through his mind. those cracked stairs. the rusted railings. that dim hallway light flickering like it could die any second. something ugly twisted quietly in his chest. it wasn't disgust; it was a raw heavy wave of concern. his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, remembering how embarrassed you had looked while thanking him, as if you expected him to judge you. ridiculous.
that one had nearly fucked him up the most. it had taken everything in him not to snatch you up right then, carry you somewhere safe, and shut out the rest of this fucked-up world for good. but he hadn’t. because before he could save you, he had other plans...
~
“what the fuck was that?”
jungkook took a long drag from a water bottle entirely unfazed. “still won.”
“you call that winning?” the trainer snapped, throwing a bloodied towel onto jungkook’s lap. “everything i taught you, and you threw it out the window over what? a girl? you dropped your guard three times tonight. keep fighting like that and your brains will be painted all over the fucking ring before you can even think about her again.”
jungkook’s eyes went pitch-black, his jaw rolling. “leave her out of this.”
“that’s the problem—you can’t.” the room went dead silent. heavy. dangerous. jungkook didn't argue, because deep down, he knew the bastard was right.
“you’ve seen pretty girls before,” the trainer muttered quietly.
“not one i wanted to keep."
~
it was a little past midnight when your stomach started rumbling. a single slice of toast and a fried egg hadn’t been enough to sustain you. for the past hour, you had been tossing and turning, the cold from the floor beneath your mattress creeping into your backside. the silence of the tiny room only amplified the noise of your hunger until you finally decided enough was enough.
throwing your blanket aside, you swapped your pajama shorts for black sweatpants and pulled an oversized pink hoodie over your torso. you grabbed your small backpack, carefully counting the few crumpled bills between your fingers to mentally budget your expenses before stepping out. a few bucks was all you could afford. then again, it was all you ever could afford.
the walk was chilly, but the moment you stepped inside the 24-hour convenience store, the blast of heated air made your shoulders instantly relax. you slowly wandered toward the snack aisle under the soft fluorescent lights, completely oblivious to your surroundings.
but jungkook was already there. standing near the drinks section where he had been debating between a beer and a banana milk, looking to decompress after his brutal match. then you walked in, and the rest of the store simply ceased to exist. his dark eyes followed your figure. you looked utterly exhausted.
unaware of his gaze, you dragged your tired eyes over the shelves. cookies, instant noodles, chips—everything looked delicious. your fingers reached for a packet of chocolate biscuits, but a glance at the price tag made you quietly place it back. you picked up another snack, compared the numbers, and returned that one too.
watching from a distance, jungkook felt something unpleasantly tight twist in his chest. the way your eyebrows furrowed as you mentally calculated every single cent broke something inside him. when you finally settled on a small packet of crackers and a single snack bar, looking conflicted over whether you should even spend the money on both, he pushed himself off the refrigerator door.
the cashier barely looked up as you placed your items on the counter. you reached into your hoodie pocket, anxiously smoothing out the crumpled bills to count them one last time. right as you were about to hand the money over—THUD
your shoulders jumped as a handful of extra snack bars and drinks suddenly dropped onto the counter right beside your items. your wide eyes darted sideways, your panic instantly melting into shock when you recognized him.
he stood there clad entirely in black, his hair slightly damp and his knuckles raw and bruised. his dark eyes flicked down to the crumpled bills in your hand before sliding over to the cashier.
“she’s with me,” he commanded.
your lips parted. “n-no, you don’t have to—”
“she’s with me,” he cut you off, his tone simple, firm, and entirely unarguable.
you stood there awkwardly clutching your backpack straps while the cashier quickly scanned everything. jungkook looked completely unbothered, as if paying for your late-night cravings was the most natural thing in the world.
when the two of you stepped back outside, the cold air hit your face. you held the plastic bag close to your chest, watching him shove his hands deep into his pockets.
“you always go out this late?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
you glanced down shyly. “o-only when i can’t sleep.”
jungkook hummed softly, his eyes shifting toward a sleek black motorcycle parked near the curb. jungkook walked over to the bike and lifted his helmet from the seat, holding it out to you patiently. “c’mon.”
your fingers tightened around the plastic bag. “...w-where?”
“home,” he said naturally, “i’ll take you.”
the ride back was quiet. jungkook didn’t drive fast. the motorcycle barely growled beneath you, moving smooth and steady through the empty streets. you kept your distance, your hands lightly gripping the sides of the seat behind you, but jungkook could feel every tiny shift of your weight. he knew you were still nervous, and it only made the protective coil in his chest tighten.
within minutes, he pulled over near the curb of your apartment building, shutting off the engine. you stayed seated for a moment, carefully lifting the helmet off your head and smoothing down your messy hair. behind you, jungkook’s eyes drifted to your backpack. moving entirely on instinct, his large hand quietly unzipped the main compartment. he slipped his own snacks, the extra chocolate bar, and the banana milk inside before zipping it shut. he stepped back right as you turned around to face him.
“th-thank you for the snacks,” you said softly, handing him the helmet.
a heavy silence settling between you. you looked down at your shoes, fidgeting with your backpack strap, swallowing hard twice before you finally forced the words out.
“i-i’m y/n.”
jungkook just stared at you. his expression didn’t change, but inside, his chest shifted violently. you were letting him in. it was a tiny careful step, but you were giving him your name.
“y/n,” he repeated quietly, testing the weight of it on his tongue, memorizing the sound.
you gave a small nod, taking a step toward your building. “i-i’ll see you around... jungkook.”
that did it. out of all the roaring feral voices in that underground crowd, you had remembered his name. as he watched you disappear up the cracked concrete steps, jungkook exhaled a rough breathless laugh into the dark.
he was completely and utterly fucked.
~
you entered the bakery through the back door before dawn, your keys jingling softly in the quiet. one by one, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered to life as the ovens slowly warmed for the day ahead. the shop smelled exactly as it always did—warm sugar, cinnamon, and butter. but something felt entirely different.
curious, you stepped out from the kitchen toward the front counter. your movements stalled the moment your eyes landed on the glass surface.
banana milk. snack bars.
your heart stopped for a beat longer than it should have. he was here?
you stared at them for a long moment before quietly moving the banana milk into the refrigerator behind the counter, completely unaware of the small smile forming on your face.
the next morning, it happened again. banana milk and snack bars. then the morning after that. each day brought a different variety of treats, but the banana milk remained a constant. by the third morning, you stopped questioning how he was getting inside the bakery.
a few days later, around midday, the bell above the front door rang. you looked up to find a delivery man holding a brown paper bag, checking his phone.
“delivery for y/n,” he said.
you blinked. “i-i didn’t order anything.”
the man shrugged. “tall dude in black told me to send it here.”
he set the bag on the counter and left. you stepped closer, warmth radiating faintly through the paper. inside was a sealed container of hot soup and neatly packed rice, still steaming enough to create condensation on the lid. buried beneath the containers was a small scrap of paper.
‘eat’
your throat tightened for reasons you couldn’t fully understand.
as the days bled together, the surprises transformed into a comfortingly predictable rhythm. banana milk appeared in the mornings, sometimes paired by snacks, other times paired with a hot lunch. your mind found solace in the routine, and for the first time in months, your stomach wasn’t constantly rumbling.
until today. today, the counter was completely bare. unease settled over you. you spent the afternoon feeling strangely restless, growing quietly annoyed each time the door rang only for it to be a mere customer. you kept glancing toward the counter, checking the clock, expecting something you had no right to expect.
when the final light was switched off, you stepped outside and locked the door. you rested your forehead against the cool glass, letting out a long exhale to collect yourself. you were confused, tired, and a sudden sting pricked behind your eyes. had he forgotten? was that the end of it?
shaking your head at your own ridiculous reaction, you turned to begin the walk home. you paused after your very first step.
resting right on the concrete ledge by the door was a small bundle of flowers. three white daffodils, their stems bound carefully with a soft blue ribbon. a small white card rested between the petals. you pulled it free, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the script:
‘6 pm tomorrow. dont make me wait.’
your heart hammered against your ribs. your lips curved into a smile before you could even think to stop it.
knew i’d see him around.
you lifted the bouquet to your face, breathing in the sweet honey-like scent, your steps suddenly feeling infinitely lighter as you skipped down the street.
meanwhile, jungkook stood hidden in the shadows of a far alleyway, a cigarette resting between his fingers. he watched your entire transition from the edge of tears to skipping down the pavement.
he knew it was twisted, but he fed off the sight of you being this affected by him. he liked knowing he could shift your emotions with a single gesture, the sheer power of it sending a heavy demanding throb of heat low in his pelvis as he hardened under his pants. he liked that you had started looking for him the exact same way he had been hunting for you since the night in the ring. smoke curled past his lips as the darkness swallowed your figure. a slow smirk pulled at his mouth.
yeah, you will.
~
you woke up the next morning and headed out to run a few errands.
at the drugstore, you moved slowly through the aisles, picking up small things that made you feel like you were allowed to exist a little more gently. you wanted to feel pretty—though, you were already more than beautiful to begin with.
you picked out a mascara, a blush, a pink lip gloss, and a simple body spray scented with fresh pear, lily, and jasmine. you paid with a gift card you had been saving for something special, realizing that ‘special’ had recently started looking a lot like dark eyes and banana milk.
the rest of the day passed quietly in anticipation. later, you showered and got ready, keeping your makeup natural and careful. opening your duffel bag, you pulled out the one outfit you kept for when things mattered: a baby pink button-down cardigan paired with a cream flared skirt that stopped just above your knees. you tied your hair half up, finishing the look with clean socks and sneakers.
knock, knock, knock. you opened the door.
clad in dark cargos, a muted grey shirt beneath a black leather jacket, a silver chain rested against his collarbone. he smirked the moment his eyes landed on you, watching as you scanned his entire being.
“hello to you too.”
you blinked, caught off guard, before shaking your head. “h-how did you know my door?” you asked softly, eyes wide and unguarded.
“knocked on every one,” he said simply.
you hesitated. something about the way he said it made it sound less like a joke and more like something he expected you to accept without question. “o-oh,” you murmured, not fully believing him, but not rejecting it either.
jungkook didn’t explain further. he just looked at you quietly, taking in details he didn’t want to forget. then, after a deliberate pause, he muttered, “shall we?”
you nodded lightly and stepped out with him, locking the door behind you. it was then that his gaze shifted, landing directly on your hair. half tied up—with the soft blue ribbon woven through it. his smirk returned, slower and deeply restrained. you really didn’t know what you were doing to him.
outside the building, you walked toward his bike. conveniently, jungkook had two helmets now. you didn’t know that just yesterday, he had gone out of his way to buy a second one just for you, nor did he plan on admitting it anytime soon.
he held it out toward you and you took it carefully, slipping it on, and climbed onto the seat behind him. you hesitated for only a second before your arms slowly wrapped around his waist. fuck. his heart nearly punched through his ribs.
“hold on tighter,” he said lowly, revving the engine twice before pulling away from the curb.
the ride was smooth and steady, the city lights stretching around you in blurred streaks. you still didn’t know where he was taking you, but strangely you trusted him enough not to ask.
eventually, the bike slowed in front of a small restaurant tucked quietly between dimly lit buildings. you climbed off, removing the helmet to quickly fix your hair and smooth down your skirt. jungkook stepped beside you, and naturally—as if he’d done it a hundred times before—his hand found the small of your back. warm, firm, and grounding, guiding you toward the entrance. your eyes lifted toward the sign hanging on the glass. CLOSED.
“j-jungkook…” you murmured softly. “i-it’s closed.”
“don’t worry,” he replied easily, pulling the door open. “owner knows me.” then, with a brief glance down at you, “after you.”
you stepped into the quiet restaurant, the only real light glowing from a private corner deeper inside. suddenly, an older man emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
“so,” the older man said with a grin, stopping at the sight of you. “you’re the girl that made me close early today, huh?”
actual panic flashed across your face. the man burst out laughing almost immediately. “relax, darlin’ i’m kiddin’. you two go ahead and sit down, i’ll be over in a minute.”
jungkook quietly pulled your chair out for you before taking the seat across the table, his sharp eyes never really leaving you.
it was quiet for a few moments before you finally spoke. “y-you eat here often?”
“nope.”
“o-oh… then how does the owner know you?”
“beat up his nephew once.”
you stared at him.
“kidding.”
your shoulders loosened instantly, and jungkook fought back a smirk at how easy you were to read.
the owner returned with steaming plates of warm soup, grilled meat, rice, and side dishes. everything tasted amazing, the warmth softening something deep inside your chest. you became so focused on eating that you failed to notice how intensely jungkook was watching you. there was something deeply satisfying about seeing you eat properly, a warmth of protectiveness spreading heavily through his chest.
after thanking the owner, jungkook paid quietly in cash, and the two of you stepped back out into the cool spring night.
“ice cream?” he asked.
you blinked once before nodding almost immediately.
jungkook ordered for both of you without even asking what flavor you wanted: two scoops of chocolate. the truth was, he somehow already knew. you both sat together on a bench outside the shop, shoulders lightly touching while the cold night air drifted around you.
“h-how much do i owe you?”
jungkook turned toward you so fast it startled you, disbelief and annoyance flashing across his face. “you shittin’ me?”
your shoulders instinctively curled inward at the sudden verbal sting. “i-i’m sorry,” you murmured quietly. “i-i don’t know what i’m supposed to do.”
he sighed heavily through his nose, looking away into the street. “just sit there and look pretty,” he muttered, taking another bite of his ice cream. “...and eat your ice cream.”
the ride home was calm and peaceful. soon, the two of you stood in front of your apartment door while you searched through your bag for your keys. the lock turned with a soft click, and you turned back to face him.
“th-thank you… for tonight,” you said softly. “a-and for the snacks. the food too. y-you’re very kind.”
jungkook nearly scoffed. kind. if only you knew the thoughts he carried about you. still, he shrugged. “had to feed you somehow.”
you smiled at him—not nervous, shy, or uncertain, but warm and genuine. and fuck if that didn’t do something violent to his chest.
but then, his eyes drifted past your shoulder, into your apartment. suddenly, everything inside him tightened. the mattress on the floor, the duffel bag in the corner, the dim lamp, and the daffodils sitting carefully inside a plastic cup of water. you didn’t look like someone living in a home; you looked like someone trying very hard to survive. anger twisted quietly inside him. how the fuck was he supposed to live normally knowing this was what you came home to every night?
your sleepy, gentle voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “g-goodnight, jungkook.”
his eyes flickered once more past your shoulder, landing on the pink bunny resting against your pillow. his gaze softened before he could stop it. slowly, he lifted his large, tattooed hand, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“night, bunny.”
~
you stepped into the bakery with that familiar warmth hitting your face. you went about your business as usual—setting things up, preparing dough, and arranging pastries inside the display case—when the sudden buzz of your phone disrupted you.
unknown: have a good day
you froze, blinking in a brief flash of panic.
unknown: hope last night didnt scare u
phew. you mentally let out a breath, your fingers hovering nervously over the keyboard. typing, deleting, and typing again, you finally sent:
you: hi jungkook
unknown: took u long enough
you: how did you get my number?
unknown: got it
you: from where?
unknown: somewhere
you physically frowned at the screen.
you: jungkook please
unknown: bunny please
heat slowly crept into your face, causing you to look around the empty bakery for absolutely no reason. after a long pause, you typed back:
you: last night didn’t scare me
the dots bounced, disappeared, and bounced again.
jungkook: good
by the time the bakery finally emptied for the evening, you finished wiping down the last table and switched off the lights. you grabbed your bag stepped outside.
there was a sleek familiar black motorcycle parked by the curb. leaning against it was jungkook, arms crossed over his chest, his head lowered toward his phone. seeing him there instantly made the exhaustion of the day feel lighter.
his eyes lifted, meeting yours. “done?”
you blinked. “y-you didn’t tell me you were coming.”
he slowly pushed himself off the bike, “don’t need to.”
as the days passed, you slowly started getting used to him in tiny pieces. morning text messages, expected rides home, and the habit of checking your phone the second it buzzed—it all felt dangerously normal.
jungkook: bunny
you: hello :)
jungkook: u eat yet
you: i had some bread
jungkook: thats not food
you: then what is it?
seen. five minutes passed, then ten. you frowned at your screen, wondering if you had annoyed him.
knock, knock. you walked to your apartment door and opened it to find a delivery driver holding a container of hot food, already paid for. you immediately grabbed your phone.
you: thank you for the food!!
jungkook: np
you: what?
jungkook: no problem
you: oh :D
a few evenings later, you were in the middle of closing up—wiping counters and stacking trays. then your phone lit up.
not even a minute later, the bell above the bakery door rang. you looked up to find him standing in the doorway, clad in a dark hoodie with his hands in his pockets.
“j-jungkook,” you gulped. “w-what are you doing here?”
“bored.”
“o-oh. w-well i’m just cleaning up, i doubt you’ll—”
“then don’t doubt.”
you hesitated, then nodded quickly. “o-okay, you can sit here. i won’t be too long.”
you shuffled around the kitchen nervously, entirely aware of his eyes following you religiously.
“why baking?” he suddenly asked.
you paused mid-wipe, taking a quiet breath. “i-it’s all i know. ‘m good at it. makes me happy.”
he nodded once, letting a beat pass before you eventually posed your question. “a-and you? w-why boxing?”
“it’s all i know. i’m good at it.” mirroring your words with a small smirk.
“b-but does it make you happy?”
he scoffed lightly. “no.”
you looked at him properly now. “w-what makes you happy?”
jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze boring into your soul. he knew the exact answer to that, but he was caught off guard that you were bold enough to ask that to a man like him. silly girl, you didn’t know what you were getting into. his smirk returned as he gave you the next best answer. “banana milk.”
after that night, his presence became permanent. sometimes he’d wait for you at closing; other times his bike was already idling outside your building before dawn. even late-night convenience store runs became routine.
until one evening, while you were putting away mixing bowls, jungkook suddenly spoke from behind you.
“taking you out tomorrow.”
“t-tomorrow?” you turned around, blinking.
“you don’t work tomorrow.”
“t-taking me out?”
jungkook scoffed quietly. “who else am i talking to?”
~
knock knock knock. you hurried to the door, smoothing down your skirt before throwing the lock. there he was, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other casually holding his helmet. his dark eyes dragged slowly from your face to your outfit before returning to meet your gaze.
“y-you’re staring,” you murmured, your cheeks warming.
“mhm.”
you looked away first, and jungkook smirked faintly, holding out the extra helmet. “c’mon.”
the ride felt different tonight. the city grew brighter the farther he drove, neon signs glowing against the dark streets until you finally arrived at the night market. your eyes widened at the colorful lights, the sea of crowds, and the delicious aroma of grilled meats and sugar blending into the cool air.
“stay close,” jungkook said simply, stepping into the crowd.
for the first few minutes, you kept getting distracted by little trinket stands and cute keychains. your attention drifted for one second too long, and a sudden wave of people passed between you.
your steps faltered. “j-jungk—”
a firm hand suddenly wrapped securely around your wrist.
“eek—!” you stumbled forward, landing right back against his side.
jungkook barely even looked back, his grip firm, warm, and entirely protective. “told you to stay close.”
“...s-sorry.”
he glanced down at you briefly. then, slowly, his grip loosened, his fingers sliding downward until his palm settled firmly against yours. just holding your hand so naturally as if letting go wasn’t an option. you didn’t want him to let go either.
a few minutes later, you were seated at a small open eating area. jungkook pulled his chair right next to yours and rested one arm over the back of your seat.
“i-it’s really good,” you said, taking another bite of a meat skewer.
jungkook glanced at you. “yeah?”
you nodded quickly, devouring the food with a satisfied hum. you noticed he had barely touched his own plate, his eyes completely fixed on you instead...
~
one night, it felt too still. your room was dark except for the faint streetlight glowing through the window. your mind wouldn’t settle, tossing and turning until your thumb finally hovered nervously over your screen.
you: you up?
jungkook: ye
jungkook: whats up
you: can’t sleep :( hungry
the three dots appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.
jungkook: be down in 10
you sat up quickly, staring at the empty room and then back at the phone. he was actually coming…
you sat next to jungkook at a small table by the convenience store window, instant ramen steaming between you both. he ate like he always did—totally unbothered—while you kept blowing on your noodles longer than necessary. when you finished, he tossed the cups into the bin, and you followed him out into the cool night air.
at some point during the walk, your shoulders brushed slightly. when you reached the crossing, the red pedestrian light glowed faintly ahead. cars passed in soft streaks of sound. and then—jungkook’s hand found yours.
your breath paused slightly. his grip was firm and steady, entirely unhesitant. you looked down at your hands for half a second. then, slowly, your fingers shifted, lacing between his.
jungkook went completely still. not physically, but something in his brain absolutely short-circuited. his jaw tightened for a second like his body had stopped cooperating, but he kept his eyes anchored strictly forward at the crossing light.
the stairs echoed softly under your steps, your fingers still intertwined. when you finally reached your floor, the contact broke naturally as you fumbled through your bag for your keys, your hand feeling strangely cold without his hand.
you unlocked the door and turned toward him, a warm genuine smile breaking across your face. jungkook stared at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual.
“th-thank you, jungkook.”
“…yeah,” he said quietly.
you nodded once, turning to go inside. but halfway through the door, you paused. turning back quickly, you stepped forward and pressed a quick soft kiss to his cheek.
before he could react, you hurried inside. “g-goodnight!”
jungkook stood there in the silent hallway, his hand slowly lifting to the spot on his cheek. it was still warm. he stared at the wood for a long moment before letting out a quiet exhale through his nose. “…tch.”
things had gotten bad lately—bad in the sense that he saw you almost every day now. it had all slipped into place so naturally that neither of you questioned the rhythm of the texts filling your days:
you: drive safe
jungkook: always do
you: today a customer said my pastries were pretty!!
jungkook: not just ur pastries
but one evening felt strangely off because jungkook wasn’t there. your phone buzzed while you were wiping down the bakery counters.
jungkook: cant pick u up tonight. got something to do
jungkook: paid for ur cab. dont want u walking alone
jungkook: text me when u get home
you: okay :( be safe
the cab ride home felt lonely. unlocking your apartment door, you slipped your shoes off and turned on the lamp beside your mattress. then you paused.
sitting against your pillow was a brand-new, soft blue bunny. your old pink bunny rested right beside it like it had always belonged there. slowly, you picked it up, finding a small note slipped beneath it:
‘sleep with it’
a helplessly soft smile spread across your face. you pulled the plush toy against your chest and fell backward onto your mattress, completely unaware that miles away, jungkook was staring at his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes, waiting for your confirmation text.
the next day, your phone buzzed while you were busy with cookie cutters.
jungkook: we going out tomorrow
you: okay :) where?
jungkook: trust
the arcade had exhausted you in the best way possible. jungkook had spent half the night acting unimpressed while aggressively beating you at air hockey twice, followed by a quiet dinner where your legs brushed beneath the table.
and now, the city sat far beneath you, tiny lights blinking softly as the night air drifted across the hilltop overlook. jungkook leaned back against the railing while you stood beside him, staring out with wide eyes.
“p-pretty,” you whispered.
he looked at you instead. “mhm.”
“w-when i was little,” you started quietly, your hair moving in the wind, “i used to think clouds were solid. i thought if i climbed high enough, maybe i could sit on them. i-it’s stupid, right?”
“nah.” he shrugged once. “sounds like something you’d think. you got a soft brain.”
you gasped quietly. “i-i do not!”
“you think a piece of bread counts as a meal. hamster logic.”
“i-i thought i’m a bunny?” you huffed, your shoulder bumping lightly against his arm.
jungkook looked down at the contact, his expression softening before he could stop it.
“you always think like that?” he asked after a while. “like the world’s softer than it is.”
you looked down at your sleeves. “i-i think i just want it to be.”
silence fell, and jungkook’s jaw shifted. somehow, hearing that from you hurt in a place he didn’t have words for. without saying anything, he quietly stepped closer, narrowing the space between you. he noticed your hands disappearing into your oversized sleeves again.
as you rubbed your cold hands together, he reached over, took your wrist, and pulled your hand directly into the warm pocket of his hoodie, right beside his own.
“world’s not soft,” he said quietly, still staring out at the city lights. “people leave. things get shitty. things change. but…” he turned, looking you dead in the eyes with no teasing, no smirk, completely bare. “i’d keep you anyway.”
“h-huh?” you gulped, “w-why?”
he actually looked offended. “what do you think?”
the silence became incredibly heavy. before you could spiral into another thought, jungkook’s large hand lifted, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. his hand lingered on your cheek before carefully cupping your face. he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss right against your forehead. his eyes closed as he breathed quietly against your hair, offering a sense of certainty that was utterly terrifying. this felt real.
jungkook pulled back, his voice low. “let’s go.”
the ride home was quiet as his words replayed like a warning in your head. keep you.
why would he say something like that so easily? like keeping someone had ever been simple.
the walk upstairs felt slower, your hand resting in his even as your palm grew warm and slightly sweaty from anxiety. jungkook noticed it but remained silent. once you reached your door, you pulled away to grab your keys.
“th-thank you for tonight,” you said, offering a smaller smile.
before he could analyze it, you leaned up quickly, pressing another familiar kiss to his cheek, but you pulled away too fast, avoiding his eyes. “g-goodnight, jungkook.”
the door closed.
jungkook stood in the hall, his expression unreadable as his hand slid into his hoodie pocket. something felt off—subtle, but there. he exhaled through his nose and headed downstairs, assuming you were just tired, though the ride home felt strangely heavy.
inside, sleep wouldn’t come. you lay on your mattress, clutching the blue bunny tightly against your chest as tears burned your eyes.
people didn’t stay. eventually, they always got tired of your softness, your overthinking, and your constant need for reassurance. a man like jungkook was everything your brain should have warned you about—too intense, too dangerous. yet he made you feel safe, and that was the scariest part of all. your heart was wanting something permanent, but you knew jungkook deserved someone confident and exciting. not you.
your grip tightened around the plush fur as a single thought echoed in the dark: if you let yourself fall any deeper, you weren’t sure you’d survive him leaving too.
~
the change didn’t happen all at once, that was the worst part. it happened slowly, in pieces small enough that jungkook almost convinced himself he was imagining them.
replies started taking longer—minutes, hours. sometimes you’d type, stop, and then send something painfully short anyway.
the smiley face bothered him more than if you’d said nothing at all.
and then came the excuses. “you don’t have to.” “i’m okay.” “i can walk home tonight.” every sentence sounded gentle, but jungkook heard the expanding distance underneath them. he noticed how your smiles ended quicker, how your eyes dropped, and how your hands stayed hidden deeper inside your sleeves.
even the food—you started refusing. “not hungry,” you’d softly say, despite him knowing damn well you hadn’t eaten all day.
but the bakery irritated him the most. whenever he arrived to pick you up, the lights were already off. chairs stacked. door locked. too fucking early.
standing outside one evening staring at the dark windows, he pulled his phone out.
jungkook: where r u
you: home already :) left early cuz i was tired
jungkook stared at the message, his jaw tight. tired wasn’t the problem. he just didn’t understand why you suddenly kept slipping further away while standing right in front of him. also, he fucking hated that smiley face.
the sharp sound of gloves colliding echoed through the studio. jungkook ducked beneath a punch, landing one clean against his trainer’s side.
“again.”
“damn,” the older man breathed with a laugh, adjusting his stance. “at least let me age gracefully.”
jungkook rolled his shoulders, sweat clinging to his collar, his breathing steady despite the intensity. the semi-finals were less than two weeks away. usually, he became meaner and harder to deal with around this time. but lately, something had shifted.
“so,” the trainer started casually, circling him. “how’d the date go?”
jungkook threw another punch. blocked. then another. “good.”
the trainer blinked. that was already more information than usual. “yeah?”
“mhm.” a silence stretched between the sounds of gloves and footwork before jungkook spoke again on his own. “…somethin’s off though.”
that made the trainer pause for real. jungkook never talked first. ever. “off how?”
jungkook clicked his tongue quietly, leaning back against the ropes. “she’s pullin’ away. texts slower now. stopped lookin’ at me as much.” his jaw tightened. “closed the bakery early yesterday. knew i was gonna pick her up too.”
there was no mockery or detached amusement in his voice. just raw frustration and confusion.
“you ask her what’s wrong?”
“you think she’d tell me?” jungkook scoffed lightly, grabbing his water bottle. “nah. she gets in her head.”
“people do that, you know,” the older man said, peeling tape off his hand. “pull away. when things start mattering too much. girls like her? soft ones.”
jungkook looked away first. “she’s not soft.”
the trainer almost laughed. “right. and i’m twenty-five. she gets scared, kid. of losing things.”
and suddenly, jungkook remembered: people come and go.
the trainer tossed a towel onto his shoulder. “you’ve spent your whole life fighting for things. fighting people. fighting problems. fighting yourself. try staying still for once. just be patient. she’ll come around eventually.”
jungkook stared at the floor, his jaw flexing. he wanted to argue, but instead he only nodded. “yeah.”
it didn’t sound convincing, not even to himself. his gloves hung loose at his sides, his attention entirely gone from the gym.
for the first few days, jungkook actually listened. he stopped showing up at the bakery, stopped texting first every few hours, and stopped checking if you had eaten. he gave you space because his trainer said to stay still.
and for a while, it worked. training took over his days again. his body responded perfectly—sharp movements, clean hits, controlled breathing. but slowly, something started feeling entirely wrong. your texts had gotten way quieter. almost gone.
jungkook: eat yet?
jungkook: bunny
jungkook: yn?
jungkook: everything okay?
jungkook: why arent u answering me
the next morning, jungkook told himself he was overthinking. he told himself that while pulling on his hoodie, grabbing his keys, and starting his bike. there had to be an explanation. maybe your phone died, or maybe you were sick.
but the bakery bell never rang when he pushed the door, because the door didn’t budge. jungkook stared, his hand frozen around the handle. a paper sign was taped against the glass: PERMANENTLY CLOSED.
his stomach dropped to the ground. permanently closed? his eyes narrowed. no, that didn’t make sense. you would’ve told him. his hand went for his phone—nothing. no texts, no messages.
ten minutes later, he was at the convenience store, his eyes scanning the aisles. no sign of you. no familiar cardigan. no shy eyes peeking around shelves. he walked straight toward the cashier, who recognized him instantly. jungkook swallowed. “hey. you seen my girl?”
oops. the words slipped out naturally—my girl—but it was too late to take them back now.
the cashier frowned, shaking his head. “no.”
something ugly twisted in jungkook’s chest. he walked out and looked everywhere. the grocery store, the laundromat, the small street where he’d dropped you off to buy hair ribbons, the pharmacy. every place your eyes had ever lit up. nothing.
hours passed, the sun lowering and painting orange across the streets while his bike rolled through roads he’d already checked twice. his chest felt tight, a dangerous surge of panic setting in because the same thought kept replaying: you didn’t tell him.
the motorcycle engine barely had time to die before jungkook was already sprinting up the stairs of your building, his heart hammering against his ribs. he reached your door and knocked. he knocked for what felt like minutes only to have no one answering.
a nearby door creaked open and an older woman peeked out. “you looking for the bakery girl?”
jungkook turned so quickly it startled her. “yeah.”
she stared at him for a moment. “sweet thing. left a few days ago.”
everything inside him went dead still. “where?”
the woman frowned apologetically. “didn't say.”
jungkook stared at your door. the same door he’d walked you to almost every night, where you'd smiled at him and kissed his cheek. and now, there was nothing.
~
miles away, the small hotel room felt even quieter tonight. you sat curled against the headboard with your blanket pulled around you, staring down at your phone.
27 missed calls. 32 messages.
your thumb slowly moved across the keyboard.
you: i’m okay
you stared at it, delete. then, your fingers moved again.
you: i’m sorry
you looked at it for a little longer this time, delete.
you: i miss you
your breath caught. because that one hurt, it felt too honest and too real. your thumb hovered over send. you stared, then squeezed your eyes shut. delete. delete.
the words vanished instantly like they’d never existed at all. slowly, you dropped the phone beside you before burying your face into your bunnies.
you were tired. tired of thinking, tired of crying, tired of missing him. because every time you tried convincing yourself that leaving had been the right choice, your heart kept hitting back with: then why does it hurt this much?
the next afternoon, you sat quietly at a bus stop with your duffel bag resting beside your feet.
three days. three whole days. that was enough. enough crying, enough hiding, enough pretending that running away had magically fixed anything.
you stared down at your shoes absentmindedly while waiting, not really paying attention to anything around you. until two guys sitting a few seats away suddenly started talking loudly between themselves. you weren’t trying to listen. not really, but then—
“can’t wait for tonight.”
“...semi-finals gonna be crazy.”
“...heard that beast jungkook’s fighting too.”
your head lifted before you could stop yourself. jungkook. the name alone felt massive, vibrating in your chest. you had spent the last three days trying so hard to erase it and here it was, echoing in the open air. you stared ahead quietly still listening.
“…guy’s insane.”
“…heard nobody wants to fight him.”
your fingers tightened slowly around the strap of your bag. semi-finals? tonight? what if he gets hurt?
your eyes widened slightly. no. why would that even matter? the internal wall you had built over the last three days completely crumbling under the weight of a single thought. i just wanna see. just once. just to make sure he’s okay. that’s all. right?
your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag until your knuckles went white. then, slowly, you stepped on the bus.
~
you entered your apartment feeling tired and drained. for a moment, you simply stood there in the quiet stillness. after three days away, everything looked exactly the same, and yet nothing felt the same anymore. you felt like you had finally gotten your life together, only to lose it all within a matter of days: the bakery, your routine, your sense of direction, and somehow him too.
you took a shower, changed into a pair of jeans and a black shirt, and slipped on a black cap before heading back out. thoughts of jungkook filled your mind to the brim. you kept telling yourself you had to distance yourself to protect your own heart, but your actions completely disagreed.
less than an hour later, you found yourself making your way toward the abandoned building where the semi-finals were being held. this was the place where you first met him, where your life had slowly started changing, and where it all began. your stomach twisted, and you almost turned around… but your feet kept moving anyway.
you squeezed your way through the chaotic crowd, apologizing quietly as you reached your familiar corner near the back of the hall. music blasted from old speakers, neon lights flickered overhead, and the smell of alcohol and sweat lingered heavily in the air. scanning the room, you noticed far more people tonight than during your previous visit. every corner was packed with anticipation.
“ARE YOU READY?!” the announcer’s voice exploded through the speakers, and the crowd erupted, making the floor shake beneath your feet. “MEET YOUR CHAMPIONS!”
the audience welcomed each fighter with roars but nothing compared to what happened next. the announcer’s grin widened, his voice rising dramatically. “AND FINALLY! THE STRONGEST! THE WILDEST! THE BEAST! THE FEARED! JEON JUNGKOOOOOK!”
jungkook stepped out from the tunnel into the blinding lights. usually, he would have fed off the noise, the adrenaline, and the crowd’s obsession. but tonight, it felt distant, like he was hearing it from underwater. he walked toward the ring with a blank expression, eyes fixed forward. his mind wasn’t here; it hadn’t been here for days.
the first semi-final match ended within minutes, but you barely paid attention. your eyes kept drifting toward the opposite side of the hall where jungkook stood near the ropes, arms crossed and head lowered. something about him felt wrong. he looked deeply tired and it bothered you immensely.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” the announcer stepped forward again, and your stomach immediately tightened. the second semi-final. jungkook.
the bell rang and the fight began. at first, everything looked normal. jungkook moved effortlessly with sharp footwork and fast combinations, keeping you gripping the edge of the barrier, unable to look away. his opponent stumbled backward after a heavy hit, and the crowd exploded.
then, everything changed too fast. his opponent suddenly stepped forward, catching one opening with a massive swing. CRACK.
your breath stopped. jungkook’s head snapped sideways from the impact and he hit the floor. a collective massive groan ripped through the crowd. you had never seen him get knocked down before.
jungkook slowly pushed himself up and the referee continued the match. but something was severely wrong. his punches were slower, his reactions delayed, and his movements lacked their usual precision. his opponent noticed immediately and took brutal advantage.
your stomach twisted painfully with every hit as the crowd’s excitement turned into sheer confusion. jungkook kept forcing himself forward, but a kick landed against his ribs followed by a punch to his jaw. everything felt entirely distant to him.
outside the ring, his trainer’s face had gone pale. watching minutes pass as jungkook absorbed severe punishment. his head simply wasn’t here, and it was getting him hurt badly. after nearly five whole minutes, the trainer couldn’t take it anymore. “fuck this.”
without hesitation, he grabbed the towel and threw it.
the crowd erupted into a mix of boos, shouts, and confusion as the referee stepped between the fighters. the match was over. jungkook barely reacted, remaining on one knee, breathing heavily with blood running from the corner of his lip. the trainer climbed into the ring immediately.
the older man’s chest tightened. slowly, he hooked an arm beneath jungkook’s shoulders and pulled him up. together they made their way out of the ring toward the back. jungkook’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, completely unaware that somewhere within that same crowd, you were staring at him with tears already rolling down your face.
“hey, hey, kid. look at me.” his trainer crouched down in front of him, one hand tapping his cheek to keep his attention. the noise of the crowd sounded distant now, muffled, like it belonged to another world.
“had to throw in the towel, you were getting knocked out.” his brows furrowed with concern. “what happened out there?”
jungkook blinked once, twice. the bright lights overhead burned his eyes and his throat tightened. before he could stop it, his eyes turned red. tears gathered, then fell.
“i don’t know.” his voice cracked, small and broken, nothing like the fighter everyone feared. “i don't know what i did.”
the trainer’s chest tightened. right now, he didn’t see the champion or the beast; he saw the same angry teenager he’d picked up from the streets years ago and trained to survive. but right now, jungkook didn’t need a trainer—he needed someone to catch him before he completely fell apart.
“take a breath.” the older man handed him a water bottle. “here.”
jungkook’s hands trembled slightly as he took a few gulps, letting out a shaky breath. but the ache in his chest remained.
“i don’t know where she is.” his voice came out quieter this time, like he was talking more to himself than anyone else. “what did i do?”
trainer continued to listen—
“i tried giving her space. i stopped texting.” his eyes squeezed shut. “then i texted.” a bitter, pathetic laugh escaped him. “then i couldn’t stop texting. she won’t answer me. the bakery’s gone. she’s gone.”
a long silence passed, and then finally, his voice broke completely into uncontrollable sobs. “i miss her. you said she’d come around!”
the trainer let the moment sit, long enough for jungkook to breathe and for the tears to slow. then he leaned forward slightly.
“son, listen to me.” the older man’s voice remained steady and calm. “you love. you lose. you get hurt. that’s life. people break your heart. they leave. sometimes they come back. sometimes they don’t. you don’t get to decide any of that.” the older man reached over and squeezed the back of jungkook’s neck once, a familiar gesture since he was a teenager.
jungkook swallowed hard as the trainer continued. “you think you're the first idiot to fall in love?”
a weak laugh escaped jungkook despite everything, that showed a bit of progress.
“kid, you’re gonna get your heart broken a hundred different ways in this life. but if you’re lucky... you’ll find a few people worth the risk.”
a long silence passed before jungkook finally answered, “yeah.” it sounded weak but for now that was enough.
the crowd outside was still roaring, restless and wondering what had happened. the older man looked down at jungkook for a moment. “are you ready to get back out there... or are you done for tonight? either answer’s fine. you got nothin’ to prove to me. not anymore.”
that hit harder than any punch tonight. for years, everything had been about proving he was strong enough to survive.
“what if i lose?” jungkook finally whispered out loud.
“kid, if that girl can make you cry... some guy in boxing gloves ain’t the problem.”
despite the swollen jaw, the tears, and the ache in his chest, a tiny laugh escaped jungkook. the trainer smiled, seeing his kid instead of just the champion. he held out a hand.
“so. what's it gonna be?” the trainer’s hand pulled him to his feet. jungkook rolled his stiff shoulders, the bruises and emotional ache still very much present, but he felt lighter.
the crowd erupted into chaos as he stepped back toward the ring, their confusion quickly turning into absolute excitement.
jungkook climbed through the ropes. this time, he felt completely present for the first time all night. across from him, his opponent smirked, confident that victory was already theirs. jungkook simply stared back, expressionless and calm. he closed his eyes briefly, taking one final breath. and then—a quiet, soft, familiar voice whispered in the back of his mind.
‘come on.’
his eyes snapped open immediately. even though it was impossible, even though it made no sense, he knew.
meanwhile, somewhere within the crowd, your fingers tightened against your palm. the moment you had seen him return, something inside you had finally unclenched. the relief was immediate and overwhelming; he was okay.
you watched him step into position, watched him stand across from his opponent, watched him close his eyes, and without even realizing it—you whispered beneath your breath: ‘come on’ so quietly that not even the person standing beside you could have heard. a hope, a prayer, a plea.
the whistle blew. referee immediately stepped between them, counting one, two, three, while the crowd screamed louder with every number. your heart pounded because suddenly—it was over. the announcer nearly shouted himself hoarse: “YOUR WINNER JEON JUNGKOOK!!”
the crowd went wild but relief settled so heavily inside you that the noise faded out. adjusting your cap, you stepped backward and slipped toward the exit. seeing him was enough, and if you stayed, you knew you’d never be able to leave.
in the ring, the referee raised jungkook’s arm, but his eyes swept the arena and froze. a black cap, a familiar frame—it was you. he knew it in his chest before his brain could even process it.
yanking his arm free from the confused referee, jungkook leaped over the ropes and tore through the crowd. after weeks of searching and fearing the worst, there was no way in hell he was letting you disappear again.
~
the cold night air hit your face as you ran fast and blind through the streets, tears blurring your vision. overwhelmed by jungkook, the blood, and the terrifying way he’d fallen, you kept running until your feet finally slowed at the bakery.
it was dark, empty, and stripped of all its warmth. seeing your sanctuary—the first thing that had ever been yours after foster care—completely hollowed out broke you. sinking onto the cold concrete steps, you buried your face in your knees and sobbed, exhausted from losing everything and missing him so deeply it hurt.
back at the arena, jungkook shoved through the crowd like a man possessed. throwing on a shirt backstage, he bolted into the night before his trainer could say anything, sprinting through the streets on pure instinct toward the one place he knew you’d go.
when he turned the corner and saw you curled up on the bakery steps, his chest heaved with violent relief. you were real, alive, and right there. steadying his breath, he began walking toward you.
“there you are.”
you looked up to find him standing there. his tone mean and angry. his expression was blank, his chest rose and fell heavily like he’d been running for miles.
“j-jungkook…”
for a while, neither of you said anything. he just stared down at you, brows furrowed, breathing uneven, like he was trying to decide whether to yell at you or pull you into his arms.
“so you’re alive, huh.” his jaw tightened. “was startin’ to think you got buried somewhere.”
you flinched slightly at the bitterness in his voice, only now realizing that your impulsive trip out of town hadn’t just hurt you—it had wrecked him too.
“i-i was out of town,” you replied quietly.
“no. fucking. shit.” he laughed once, dry and disbelieving, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “i texted you, called you. you didn’t answer so i drove by here only to find out it’s been permanently closed.” his eyes flickered toward the dark bakery behind you, then back to you. “went all around town asking about you. went by your apartment and found out from some neighbor you left.”
your chest tightened. “i-i just needed to go away. just for a while, i—”
“yeah?” he cut in. “leave a fucking note next time, y/n.”
your breath hitched. because until now, you hadn’t understood—all this time, while you were drowning in your own thoughts, he’d been drowning too, looking for you, panicking, hurting. and somehow, that made the guilt feel even heavier.
“i-i’m sorry,” your fingers tightened against your sleeves. “i-i’m really sorry…”
“yeah, i bet.” he scoffed, pacing once before turning back to you. “what were you thinking? why the fuck would you do that to me?”
you flinched.
“i mean—i closed a fucking restaurant for you.” he gestured wildly, “took you on dates.”
your head lifted at that. dates. oh. so that’s what they were. jungkook noticed the look on your face immediately and it only made him more irritated.
“yeah. dates.” his voice dropped, mocking, like he couldn’t believe this was news to you. “drove you around. walked you home. made sure you actually ate something solid instead of surviving off a stupid fucking piece of bread.”
your lips parted. “i-i thought…” you hesitated, swallowing. “y-you were just being kind.”
“kind?!” he stared at you like you’d lost your mind. “you think i did all that ‘cause i’m kind?” he stepped closer. “if you knew what goes on in my head—” he stopped himself, jaw flexing, then shook his head. “we’d have problems, y/n. serious fucking problems.”
he continued, “you know, i couldn’t sleep. couldn’t rest. got me losing my fights and shit. you disappeared on me and suddenly showed up tonight like you didn’t just fuck me up.”
you shook your head, tears falling harder now. “y-you don’t understand. y-you make it sound so easy.”
his brows furrowed. “what’s easy?”
“th-this.” you gestured between you both. “w-whatever this is.” your breathing stuttered. “y-you say things like that and i—” you stopped, looking away because saying it felt too dangerous.
jungkook’s voice lowered. “and you what?”
“i-i start believing it.”
“believing what?” his voice came out lower now, rougher. “that i wanted you? that’s what scared you?” his brows furrowed, not mocking, but hurt. “me wanting you scared you that bad?”
you shook your head quickly. “n-no—it’s not that—”
“then what?”
you closed your eyes before finally admitting, “th-that you’d leave!” you sighed while looking at him, really looking at him. “i-i’m not easy. people leave. they put me in one family to the next all because i wasn’t good enough. i’m never good enough. and i can’t be who you want me to be.”
“you think i’m like them? you think i’m gonna get bored and leave you?” your silence cracked something in him and he shook his head slightly. “i know what happened before… but don’t you ever put me in the same sentence as people who left you.”
“y-you might change your mind one day. you’ll get bored of me. i-i know it.”
“oh, enough with your bullshit, y/n. you really think this ends with me walking away from you?”
you swallowed hard. “y-yes.”
the word came out shaky—daring, even. and that was it. something in him snapped and he didn’t argue anymore, didn’t try to convince you with words. he stepped forward and grabbed your wrist.
“j-jungkook—” you barely got his name out before he pulled you up, and dragged you with him. like he’d already made up his mind that if you wouldn’t believe him with words, he’d show you a reason to believe. “j-jungkook! where are we going?”
his jaw was tight, eyes forward, like if he looked at you right now he’d say something worse, or maybe something too honest. the city blurred past you both until eventually the familiar outline of the abandoned building came into view.
your breath caught. “j-jungkook, please, y-you’re scaring me”
the building was quieter now. most of the crowd had gone, with only remnants remaining—discarded bottles, sweat, blood, cigarette ash. he stopped at the wall, and then finally, he let go. your wrist fell limp at your side as you looked up.
jungkook turned and pointed at the wall. the names—rows of them, crossed out, some newer, all men, all marked. you stared, recognition flickering, remembering seeing them the first night back when none of this meant anything.
his chest rose and fell heavily. “read them.”
you frowned. “j-jungkook—”
“read.”
his voice was sharp, so you did, going one by one through twenty-something names and more, all crossed out.
“w-what is this?”
his eyes stayed on the wall. “every guy i’ve beaten in this building.”
he stepped closer beside you, close enough to feel the heat still radiating off him. “every one of them stepped into that ring thinking they’d break me. but they didn’t.”
he pointed at the names. his finger dragged lower to the newest one, the one from tonight. “all crossed out. see that?”
you swallowed.
he stepped closer. “none of them could do it.” his jaw tightened. “none of them could hurt me.” his eyes darkened. then—
“but you?” his voice dropped, low and deadly quiet. “you fucked me up worse than every name on that wall. and that’s just this wall.”
the words hit like a punch, leaving you staring at him, frozen.
“no fists.” he tapped his chest. “just this.” another step. “you disappeared and i stopped sleeping.” another. “stopped thinking.” another. “got my ass beat tonight because my head’s been stuck on you.”
your eyes filled again.
“you keep saying i’ll leave.” jungkook shook his head, disbelieving. “look at me.”
you did.
“look at what i am.” he spread his arms slightly, blood still dried at his knuckles. “this is what i do.” his eyes burned into yours. “this is where i belong… and i still chose you.”
his breathing slowed, but his voice didn’t soften.
“so don’t stand there and tell me what i should or shouldn’t want.” a pause, his eyes flicking over your face. “if i want you—” he stepped into your space, close enough your breaths tangled, “that’s my fucking choice.”
he dragged a hand over his face and shook his head once, like he couldn’t believe he even had to explain this. “god, y/n…” his voice dropped, rough and tired. “you have no idea what you do to me. i wait outside your bakery like an idiot. i drive across town at two in the morning because you’re hungry. you make me check my phone every five fucking minutes.”
your eyes watered.
jungkook stepped closer, slower this time. “you make me wanna slow down.” his voice dropped lower. “you make me feel calm. and angry. and insane. you make me care… and i don’t care about shit.”
your tears fell harder, because now it wasn’t vague anymore—it was real, specific, undeniable.
jungkook swallowed hard, “so don’t stand there and tell me this is easy. because i feel things i’ve spent my life avoiding.”
and there it was: truth. your lips parted, tears clinging to your lashes as you stared at him like you wanted to believe every word.
“p-people don’t feel like that about me. y-you’re just caught up in it. the fighting. the adrenaline. y-you don’t mean it.”
that did it. jungkook turned angry, disbelieving, then shook his head. his hand grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it.
“then what the fuck is this y/n?!”
there, right against his right ribcage: ink. y/n.
jungkook’s finger jabbed at it, “adrenaline? a phase? bored?”
your eyes widened and your entire body went still, because this—this wasn’t temporary. this wasn’t kindness, this wasn’t confusion… this was permanence. and suddenly, everything he’d been saying became terrifyingly real.
“j-jungkook…” your eyes stayed locked on the ink. your name. your name on him, permanent. your breath stuttered. “w-what did you do?”
his laugh came out sharp and disbelieving. “what does it look like?”
“j-jungkook!” your voice cracked. “th-that’s permanent!”
“yeah.” his answer came too fast, too certain.
“th-this is forever!”
jungkook stepped closer. “good. i’m not interested in temporary.” he took another step. “you think i put your name on me because i’m planning to walk away?”
you shook your head, overwhelmed. “y-you don’t know what you’re asking for.” you swallowed hard. “i-i don’t know how to be what you need.”
that one made him go still, really still. his voice softened just enough. “i just need you.”
your lips trembled. “i-i can’t.” you shook your head, tears falling faster now. “i-i can’t do this. y-you don’t understand what it feels like. i-i spent my whole life being left behind. passed around like i was nothing. never enough for anyone to stay.”
jungkook swallowed.
you looked at him, really looked at him, and that made it harder because he was everything—everything you ever wanted. “a-and then i met you. you made everything feel… warm.” your hand pressed against your chest like it hurt. “safe.” another tear slipped. “a-and i hate that.”
his brows pulled together, not angry, but wounded.
“b-because now i know what it feels like.” your voice dropped to almost a whisper. “a-and i can’t survive losing this.”
jungkook took a slow careful breath, like he was choosing his last words wisely. “y/n… i’m serious about you.”
you said nothing, just cried.
he stepped closer one last time. “i’m here. i want you.”
nothing. your eyes stayed on the ground, your silence killing him. then—his voice dropped lower, “…do you even want me?”
that one broke everything, because he sounded vulnerable now. his eyes searched for yours, begging quietly, desperately, but your gaze stayed on the ground. you couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, only cry.
and after a while, jungkook nodded once, slowly, like he understood, or thought he did. he swallowed hard. “okay… i’m sorry.”
your breath caught. his voice was empty now, flat. “forget this happened.” he looked away, wiped at his mouth. “i’ll take you home.”
then he turned and started walking. one step, two, three.
your head lifted in panic—real panic—because this was it. your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your chest tightened.
say something! say something before he gets farther, before it’s over.
you closed your eyes and confessed: “i do!”
jungkook stopped.
your tears fell harder as you forced it out, shaking and broken. “i do want you.”
slowly, he turned back around, his eyes landing on you immediately, “what did you just say?”
your breath hitched and you wiped your face quickly, but the tears didn’t stop. “i said… i want you.”
he stayed silent, not convinced, not yet. “say it again.”
your heart stuttered, but you stepped forward anyway, like something inside you finally stopped running. “i want you.” your voice cracked. “i want you, jungkook.”
your hands lifted before you even realized, pressing against his chest like you needed to hold onto something real. “i want you! i want you, i want you!” your voice broke fully now, tears spilling hard. “i want you, i want you—please—” you looked up at him now, completely undone. “i want you, jungkook.”
his name fell out like a plea. your fingers clenched into his shirt. “please believe me.”
jungkook looked down at you, and for the first time he didn’t look angry, didn’t look dominant, didn’t look sure. his voice came out quieter, controlled, careful. “swear it.”
your lips trembled, and then you broke: “i swear.” your face almost touched his chest as you shook your head. “i swear, jungkook. i swear, i swear—” your voice collapsed into itself. “i’m so sorry.”
his eyes flickered just slightly.
“i’m so sorry i hurt you.” your fingers tightened around his shirt like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. “please… please don’t leave me.”
yet jungkook didn’t move, didn’t reach for you, didn’t pull you closer. he just stood there like he was holding himself together by force alone, his eyes stayed locked on yours, unblinking. then, quietly: “explain your actions.”
you blinked through tears, gathering yourself together before giving him an explanation that was well overdue. “i didn’t just leave because of you.”
he stayed still, listening.
“a few days ago… the bakery owner came by. he never comes. like… ever. he told me he was closing it, just like that. he gave me some money. said it was a ‘thank you’ for working there and i used it to get out of town.” a pause, your fingers trembling against him. “that was the first thing.” you exhaled shakily.
“second thing, after our third date…” you hesitated.
jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly.
you forced yourself to continue. “when you said you’d keep me anyway… it scared me.” you shook your head quickly. “not because i didn’t want it. but because i’ve never done this before. i’ve never been someone’s… anything like this. i don’t know how to be a girlfriend. i just—i don’t know what i’m supposed to do.”
your hands clung tighter to him like he was the only thing keeping you upright.
“and i kept thinking…maybe you just… don’t know me enough yet. maybe if you did, you’d realize you deserve someone different.”
he remained silent.
“the bakery was all i had. it was the only thing that stayed… and then you happened. you kept showing up, taking care of me. it felt good. too good. and soon,” you swallowed as his eyes moved back to you. “i realized… i was in love with you.”
your confession came out mindlessly, hitting him a million times harder than ever. jungkook took a breath like he needed it to stay standing. his eyes stayed on you, and for a long moment he didn’t speak.
then, “…you’re unbelievable.”
your chest tightened immediately.
“you really think all of that…” he gestured slightly between you both. “…was you failing at something? you think i did all of that for someone i didn’t choose?”
jungkook stared at you like he was trying to make you see it. “you need to understand something,” his eyes softening just slightly. “i don’t do things halfway. if i show up, it’s because i want to.” his hands reached to touch your waist. “if i stay, it’s because i choose to.”
your tears fell again, quietly now, not frantic, just overflowing.
he exhaled, shaky this time, like it was finally getting to him too. “and you?” his eyes searched yours. “…you think you were just convenient to me?”
he shook his head once, small, hurt. “don’t do that. don’t remove yourself from this when i’m already here.”
his voice cracked slightly, “you said you’re in love with me… so stop acting like i’m not already in it with you.”
and that did it. jungkook’s last words hung in the air like something final, and then you broke. your hands grabbed at his shirt like you were afraid the ground would open up again. “i’m sorry—i’m sorry, i’m sorry—” the words tumbled out faster than your breath could follow. “i didn’t mean it like that, i didn’t mean to leave, i didn’t mean to hurt you—”
your voice cracked completely; you couldn’t even finish sentences anymore, just broken pieces of apology. his arms came around you steady and firm, like he’d been waiting for you to fall apart into him this whole time. your forehead pressed against him as your body shook.
his head lowered slowly until his face pressed near your neck. he breathed in, trying to ground himself in you. one hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading gently into your hair, cradling you there. his thumb moved in small, absent circles against your scalp, and his voice came out lower now, with no anger left in it, only something shaken. “shhh… shhh… it’s okay. i’ve got you. you’re here now, that’s all i care about.”
your hands clenched into his shirt as if that was the only thing keeping you real, and jungkook just stayed there, holding you through it. you both stayed there for a long while, relieved to finally be in each other’s embrace after all that tension and chaos. your breathing finally slowed, and the shaking turned into quiet hiccups instead of full sobs.
when you finally pulled back, your hands were still lightly gripping his shirt like you didn’t fully trust space yet. your eyes were puffy, red, but clearer as you looked at him like you were trying to memorize the fact he was still here.
“…from the bottom of my heart,” you whispered, voice still fragile, “i am sorry.”
jungkook didn’t hesitate. his thumb came up immediately, brushing across your cheek, wiping away what was left of your tears. “i forgive you.”
then he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. you let out a small shaky breath as a sad smile tugged at your lips. you hugged him again, then pulled back just enough to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“let’s get out of here.” jungkook tilted his head slightly. “come on. we’ll go home.”
you blinked at him, then quickly shook your head. “no—no…” you swallowed. “…i wanna go home with you.”
that made something in his expression soften again, almost amused, almost relieved. “wasn’t planning on going home alone, baby.”
your cheeks flushed instantly and you looked away like that helped. he took your hand instead, turning it over in his grip before pressing a slow kiss to the back of it, then started walking with you side by side.
“we’ll stop by your place and grab your things.”
you nodded quickly, your voice smaller but calmer now. “okay…”
and just as you were about to fully relax into the moment—his grip tightened slightly around your hand.
“and y/n…” you looked up at him. he didn’t look at you immediately, just kept walking. “…don’t ever fucking do that again.”
you packed just enough for a few nights—some clothes, your charger, toothbrush, and of course your two bunnies stuffed carefully into the bag.
the ride to his place was exciting and nerve-racking at the same time. your arms stayed locked around his waist the entire time, holding him tighter than you ever had before, your face pressed lightly into the fabric of his jacket. and jungkook didn’t miss it—his hand occasionally came down to cover yours, pressing your fingers flush against his stomach just to ground you.
when the bike finally rumbled to a stop in front of his apartment building, your eyes lifted. it was nice. really nice. clean, quiet, modern. nothing extravagant, but far from what you were used to.
you followed him into the lobby and into the elevator, watching the numbers climb in silence. then came a long, dimly lit hallway, stopping in front of a door near the end. he unlocked it, pushed it open, and stepped aside to let you go first. he came in after you, flicking the main lights on. and immediately—you froze.
“wow.”
it slipped out before you could filter it. jungkook glanced at you, then at his apartment, then back at you, a shoulder shrugging slightly. “it’s just an apartment.”
but to you, it wasn’t. it was warm. clean. big. the floors were polished dark wood, the couch looked plush and absurdly expensive, and a massive flat-screen sat against the main wall. wide windows stretched across the far side, the glowing city lights spilling across the room. it felt stable and safe. “make yourself at home.”
you looked back at him and nodded slowly, stepping deeper inside. you walked carefully, observing every small detail—the warm dimming light over the kitchen island, a pair of framed fight gloves hanging near a bookshelf, the comforting quiet of the space.
jungkook stayed where he was for a moment, and it hit him all over again. the girl he’d been losing his mind over—the girl he’d bled over, cried over, fought over—was here in his apartment. staying the night with him.
he tapped away on his phone, ordering something warm, filling, and heavy. after locking his screen, he found you standing by the massive window, looking out at the sprawling city below.
jungkook walked up behind you, and when his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest, your breath caught—but only for a second. then you melted, letting your full weight lean into him. his chin rested lightly near your shoulder, his broad chest radiating a deep, steadying warmth through your back.
your eyes stayed on the glowing grid below. “it’s pretty from up here.”
jungkook hummed, his grip tightening around you just a fraction. “yeah.” a beat passed, his voice dropping lower, rough against your ear. “got a better view right here though.”
your heart skipped a violent beat. a shy small smile tugged at your mouth, and you turned slowly within his hold until you were facing him. silence stretched between you where you just looked at each other. your gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips, and back up to his eyes again. your breath softened, your own lips pressing together unconsciously.
jungkook noticed. his eyes searched yours one last time, silent and asking, waiting for any sign of hesitation. and when you didn’t pull back, he leaned down. your eyes fluttered shut, and then—his lips touched yours.
everything stopped. all the running, all the fear, all the noise in your head—gone. jungkook’s hand slid up from your waist to the side of your face, his broad palm cupping your cheek, holding you there like he was terrified you’d slip through his fingers.
when he pulled back just a millimeter and kissed you again, you didn’t hesitate. you kissed him back.
his breath hitched against your mouth. the sweet compliant way you yielded to him snapped something inside his chest that had been coiled tight for months. his hand on your cheek slid down to wrap firmly around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair and tilting your head back.
the kiss shifted instantly—losing its cautious edge, growing dirtier, hungrier, heavier.
jungkook’s other arm hauled you flush against him by your waist, lifting you slightly so your toes were barely scraping the floor. he dragged his mouth across yours with an intense possessive friction, his tongue parting your lips to claim you completely. a soft, helpless gasp escaped your throat, and jungkook swallowed the sound whole, deepening the kiss until your head spun.
without breaking the kiss, he hooked your legs around him and walked to his sofa where he sat you on top of him. he pressed into you, anchoring you against his meaty thighs. his hands were everywhere—gripping your waist hard enough to leave faint pressure marks, sliding up your ribs, flattening against your back to pull your chest flush against his.
the taste of him overwhelmed you. you pulled him closer, trying your best to match his pace, it was your first kiss after all.
a low, raspy groan vibrated deep in jungkook’s throat when you accidentally arched your hips and grinded onto him—a sound so raw and undone it sent a wave of liquid heat straight to your stomach. his mouth left yours to drag down your jawline, his teeth nipping lightly at the sensitive skin right under your ear before sucking a harsh, bruising mark into your neck.
you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair. “jungkook”
he came back up, capturing your mouth in a wet, heavy kiss that cut off your words entirely. his hips pressed firmly down against yours, leaving absolutely no doubt about what you were doing to him, the hard line of his body pressing ruthlessly against your core. it was heavy, suffocating, and addicting.
when he finally tore his mouth away, both of you were gasping for air, chest heaving against chest. his forehead dropped heavily against yours, his eyes dark, blown out, and completely feral as he stared down at you.
“fuck,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, completely ruined by the sheer effort of holding himself back.
a tiny, breathless laugh bubbled up from your chest. “you kissed me.”
his mouth twitched, a dangerous heat still flickering in his eyes. “yeah. been wanting to do that.”
your cheeks burned hot, but this time, you didn't look away. you stayed right there, trapped against him, letting him see every bit of the effect he had on you.
jungkook growled softly, bringing his mouth back down on yours with zero caution left. it was hard, messy, and commanding. his hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly to adjust you on him, his chest crushing yours while his tongue worked over yours with a possessive, filthy intensity that made your mind go completely blank. you clung to him like a lifeline, dizzy from the heavy touch of him, completely lost in the way he claimed every breath out of your lungs.
ding-dong. the chime of the doorbell echoed sharply through the quiet apartment.
jungkook froze mid-kiss, his forehead resting against yours. he stared up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and let out a dry, disbelieving laugh.
“…saved by dinner.”
you laughed—a real, bright, breathless sound that bubbled right out of your chest. jungkook looked down at you, his softened expression melting into pure quiet devotion as he watched you smile.
dinner was nothing fancy. just takeout spread across his sleek kitchen counter. jungkook kept putting food onto your plate every time he noticed you slowing down, and you kept eating it, this time without him having to argue, press, or tease you into taking another bite.
when you were finally done, he gathered the plastic containers, tossed them in the trash, and wiped his hands on a napkin before glancing back at you. “you can use the shower.”
you hesitated, your fingers twisting together nervously in your lap. “can… can i borrow one of your shirts?”
his eyes flickered, “to sleep?”
you nodded, swallowing hard.
his jaw shifted, a muscle flexing in his cheek. “yeah.” he cleared his throat, looking away toward the hallway to catch his breath. “top drawer.”
you disappeared into the bathroom after that, shutting the door quietly behind you.
jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone—or pretending to. his mind kept circling back to you. here. in his place. wearing his clothes. wanting him. it was fucking with him bad. when the bathroom door opened with a soft click, he looked up, and forgot how to breathe.
your hair was still damp, sticking slightly to the nape of your neck. your skin was clean, bare, and glowing soft under the hall light. his shirt hung ridiculously loose on your small frame, the shoulders drooping and the sleeves falling past your elbows. too big, too perfect. you stopped right in your tracks, staring at him as he sat frozen on the mattress. “what’s wrong?”
jungkook blinked once, forced his eyes up. “nothin’.”
your brows narrowed in suspicion. “what are you thinking?”
he looked you up and down once—slowly, deliberately, dragging his eyes over the bare skin of your legs before bringing his gaze back up to your face. “nothin’ safe.”
your eyes widened in shock. “jungkook!”
he laughed, low and easy, the tension breaking as he finally pushed himself off the bed and walked toward you. when he reached you, his heavy hands slid briefly over your waist before he leaned down, his mouth brushing right near your temple. “wait for me in bed.”
his lips pressed firmly against your forehead, lingering there for a long beat. he inhaled softly—taking in the scent of his own soap, warm and sweet on your skin. fuck. he pulled away and walked into the bathroom before he could do something stupid.
the shower didn’t help. if anything, it made it ten times worse, because all he could picture was you lying under his sheets, waiting for him.
when he finally came out—grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp, skin radiating heat from the water—you were already there. tucked under his heavy comforter, sitting quietly with the sheets pulled up to your chest.
his chest tightened violently at the sight. then his eyes moved around the room, searching the nightstands and the floor. “where’re your bunnies?”
you looked up at him, then shook your head softly. “not tonight… i just want you.”
a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. he walked over and climbed into bed beside you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. then, his arm slid heavy around your waist, pulling you flush into his side like pure instinct. your head rested naturally against his bare chest, his heartbeat slow, deep, and steady beneath your cheek.
your arms tightened around his waist, pulling yourself as close to him as physically possible. jungkook kissed the top of your head before you both drifted into your slumber.
when you woke up, the room was warm and quiet. sunlight spilled through the gap in the heavy curtains, painting pale, glowing lines across the dark sheets.
you stretched a little, your body still heavy with sleep. the slight movement stirred him. you tilted your head up. his hair was messy, sticking up in soft tufts. his eyes were still closed, his mouth slightly parted, long lashes resting against his skin. something about seeing him like this—so unguarded, so entirely yours—made a soft smile touch your lips.
“good morning.”
jungkook’s hand moved lazily into your hair, his broad fingers brushing over your scalp without him even opening his eyes. “mmm.”
you giggled softly at the sound. “sleep well?”
his voice came out deep, rough, and heavy with sleep. “best fuckin’ sleep ever.”
that made you laugh, a sweet sound in the quiet room. “me too.”
neither of you in any rush to move or start the day. your fingers wandered absently over the bare skin of his side, trailing lightly over his ribs—until they landed right on the texture of the ink. your name.
you traced the letters carefully, feeling every line. jungkook’s eyes opened at the touch, his dark gaze dropping to watch your fingers move over his side.
your voice came barely above a whisper, “did it hurt?”
“mhm...” he looked down at your face, his thumb stroking the soft skin of your waist. “but not as much as you leaving.”
your chest tightened immediately. your fingers stilled on his ribs and a wave of guilt flickered across your face so fast he caught it instantly.
jungkook frowned—he didn’t like that look on you. not anymore. his hand came up, his fingers cupping your jaw and tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him.
“hey,” his voice was low and firm. “i already forgave you.”
you swallowed hard. “i know, but—”
“no.”
before you could finish the thought, he pulled you closer, tugging you higher until your chest was pressed against his. still half asleep, still radiating heat. he rested his chin right on top of your head.
“you’re here, that’s all i wanted.”
for a little while longer, neither of you moved. just stayed there, tangled up in each other, like the morning had nowhere else to be and the rest of the world could wait.
the rest of the day passed quietly, like both of you were still adjusting to the beautiful reality of it all. you stayed in. neither of you had the energy to go anywhere after everything that had happened, so jungkook threw on some random action movie that neither of you paid attention to.
you sat curled into his side on the couch while takeout containers piled up on the coffee table. sometimes he’d absentmindedly feed you pieces of his food when he noticed you staring; sometimes you’d steal his drink right out of his hand. just small domestic moments that felt a little strange at first, but completely right.
the next two days passed like this… slow mornings, late breakfasts, shared showers—separate ones for now. tv playing softly in the background while jungkook trained lightly in the living room, doing push-ups and stretching while you sat nearby watching some baking show. more takeout, more after-dinner walks, more laughter. and sometimes, more kissing…
little things at first: quick kisses in the kitchen, sleepy kisses in bed before your eyes could fully open, lingering ones on the couch. but sometimes, they got heavier. hungrier.
like the one where you sat right in his lap, your hands tangled in his dark hair while jungkook kissed you like he was trying very hard not to lose his mind. his grip on your waist tightened until your hips were crushed flush against his and your breath caught sharply against his mouth.
once, you even felt so confident you lifted your shirt to reveal yourself in your lacy bra while grinding on his hard and hungry cock. and for a second, he almost forgot himself. but he pulled away suddenly, his forehead thudding against yours as his chest heaved, breathing hard and ragged.
“fuck.” jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw flexing tight. “gimme five minutes.”
before you could even ask, he stood up, setting you gently on the cushion, and disappeared down the hall into the bathroom. a second later, the sharp hiss of the shower turned on—ice cold.
you stared after him, then slowly smiled to yourself, hiding your face in your hands. because even now—even when he wanted more, when his whole body was burning for you, he still stopped. somehow, knowing that he wouldn’t let himself takeover if you weren’t ready, made your heart fall even harder.
by the third night, the apartment was quiet except for the low muffled sounds of the tv screen—some loud violent movie jungkook had put on.
you weren’t really watching it. jungkook sat beside you, legs spread comfortably, one arm stretched across the back of the couch while he sipped on his banana milk, eyes completely glued to the screen.
you looked at him for a moment, then quietly: “koo…”
his brows twitched. a small, low hum left him. “hmm?” eyes still on the screen.
your fingers played nervously with the hem of his oversized shirt you were still wearing. “i should probably go back tomorrow.”
that got his attention immediately. his eyes moved off the screen. he grabbed the remote, paused the movie, set his drink down on the table, and turned fully toward you, his gaze intent.
“okay… sure.”
you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “i still have about a week left before they renew my lease.”
he stayed quiet, watching and listening.
your hands twisted together in your lap. “but i was thinking of canceling it.”
jungkook stared, his brain processing the words. “where’re you gonna go?”
your voice came out smaller this time, but completely honest. “home. here.” your eyes searched his, suddenly hit with a wave of uncertainty. “with you?”
jungkook’s expression softened immediately, looking at you like there was no world where this was even a question in his mind. “i’d love nothing more than that.”
your breath caught. “really?”
“you’re really askin’ me if i want you here?” a small breath of pure disbelief left him. “i was tryna figure out how to get you to stay.”
that made you laugh—a small, breathless sound of relief. you threw your arms around his neck. jungkook caught you easily, his strong arms hooking under your thighs and pulling you straight into his lap, holding you there as you were his entire world.
“thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin.
“don’t thank me.” he rubbed your back slowly, his large palm tracing soothing circles against your spine. “you stay here… with me.” jungkook leaned down and kissed you. for the first time in your entire life as you held onto him, you finally felt like you were home.
~
the next morning after breakfast, jungkook called a cab; because despite everything, his bike wasn’t exactly ideal for moving… not that there was much to move anyway.
when you got back to your apartment, it took less than twenty minutes to pack up. your toiletries, clothes, cooking book, bedsheet, blanket, and the pillow tucked under your arm. your winter boots tied together by their laces and thrown into a plastic bag. that was it. everything you owned in the world.
when it was finally time to leave, you stood by the door for a long moment, looking back around the empty space. the apartment was small, cold, half-broken. the walls were chipped, the sink leaked constantly, and the heater barely worked in the dead of winter. but somehow, you had made it yours. after the bakery, this place had become your second sanctuary. the place you came back to every night. the place where you’d cried, read, slept, survived. it wasn’t much. but it had held you when you had nothing else.
your fingers brushed the cool wood of the doorframe once as you gave a silent goodbye. you took one deep breath, turned away, and walked out into the hall, starting a new life with the man who had chosen you long before realized you had been chosen.
sooner or later, jungkook had to go back to the studio; his trainer had been blowing up his phone for days. when he finally walked into the gym, the older man looked him up and down from the ring.
the trainer crossed his arms, stepping out between the ropes. “where the hell’ve you been?”
jungkook grabbed his hand wraps, unrolling them calmly. “with her.”
the trainer blinked, then a slow smirk spread across his face. “yeah?”
jungkook shrugged like it was nothing, wrapping his knuckles with practiced ease. “we’re together.”
that alone almost made the man laugh, but then jungkook added without looking up: “she moved in.”
that shut him up instantly. for a full second, the gym was silent.
“…damn,” the trainer finally shook his head, whistling under his breath. “you move fast.”
jungkook smirked, pulling the wrap tight around his wrist. “she moves slow. balances out.”
the trainer laughed, shaking his head. “you dog.”
the days quickly found their own rhythm. jungkook trained, and you stayed. after what felt like years, you finally rested. no rushing, no constantly trying to survive the next hour. you slept in, cleaned up his place, and slowly figured out where everything went. and eventually, you started cooking. simple things at first, then baking, using his modern kitchen like it had always belonged to you.
most mornings, he’d leave early for the studio, leaving you to wake up in his oversized bed alone with his side of the mattress still warm. sometimes he’d leave a stack of cash by the kitchen counter for groceries or whatever else you needed.it was his way of taking care of you.
some days, you’d take walks on your own, wandering through nearby streets, discovering little local shops, and buying small things you needed—a few new clothes, socks, hair ties, basic things you hadn’t bought for yourself in a very long time. it felt nice. it felt normal.
late afternoon sunlight spilled lazily across the living room floor while soft music played somewhere in the background. the warm, sweet smell of cinnamon still lingered in the air from the batch of rolls you’d baked that morning.
jungkook came home later than usual. he looked exhausted—his shoulders sore, his dark hair sticking damply to his forehead, and a fresh bruise blooming right beneath his collarbone.
he dropped his heavy gym bag by the entryway, kicked off his shoes, and before he even had time to look around, you were already walking toward him.
“hey.” your smile was small, sleepy, and comfortable—the kind of look that only belonged to home.
he barely managed to mumble a quiet greeting before your hands found his face, checking him over instinctively. your thumb brushed over the broken skin carefully.
“you okay?”
he nodded once, heavy-lidded. “mhm.”
“hurt?”
“nah.”
you gave him a sharp, knowing look. “liar.”
his mouth twitched. “a little.”
you sighed dramatically, then stood up on your toes, pressing your lips to the corner of the bruise on his neck, as if that small gesture could somehow fix the damage.
“better?”
jungkook looked down at you, his dark eyes softening completely. “yeah.”
you smiled, and turned back toward the kitchen. “dinner’s almost ready.”
he didn’t move. he just stood by the front door, watching you. his kitchen, your kitchen now. his apartment, your home too.
you looked over your shoulder, catching his gaze. “koo?”
“come here.” his voice came quiet.
“but the food…” you frowned playfully.
“baby.”
that tone—deep, low and unyielding, had you weak in the knees. you smiled to yourself and turned down the flame and walked back over, stopping right in front of him. “what’s up, koo?”
his hands found your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him until your bodies touched.
“i’ve been thinking…” his gaze softened as he looked at you, his thumb tracing slow circles against your waist. “about what would've happened if you never came back.”
“what?” your smile faded slightly.
he swallowed. “what if you didn’t want me?”
“koo…” your heart tightened.
he squeezed your hand gently when you reached for it, “i was scared. i kept thinkin’ maybe i was the only one who’d decided this was forever.”
you intertwined your fingers with his.
“then you came back. and every morning since then, i wake up, and you’re there. i come home, and you’re there. i open the fridge, and you baked somethin’.”
a small laugh escaped you. he lifted your intertwined hands pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours.
“i don't really know when it happened,” he murmured. “but all i know is i don’t remember what life felt like before you… and i don’t wanna.”
your eyes shimmered as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek.
“i love you.”
your eyes filled completely, a tiny laugh escaping between your tears. “i love you too,” your voice came out barely above a whisper. “…i love you too, koo.”
jungkook closed his eyes for a second, as though he’d finally released a breath he’d been holding for far too long. then he smiled, not the cocky smirk, not the teasing grin. the real one. the rare smile almost nobody else ever got to see. he kissed you slowly, deeply, pressing his mouth against yours like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
and somewhere behind you in the kitchen, something began to smell faintly burnt. you pulled away first, eyes widening. “uh oh… the stew.”
you both looked toward the kitchen, then at each other, before bursting into laughter—because somehow, almost burning dinner felt like the absolute smallest problem either of you had ever had.
~
weeks turned into a full month, and you eventually started visiting the studio. sometimes you brought him lunch, sometimes fresh pastries, and sometimes you came just because you wanted to see him.
at first, you stayed in the far corner. but without even realizing it, you started stepping directly into his world. you weren’t scared anymore, just watching, learning and understanding. because loving him meant seeing all of him, even the raw bruised edges.
and always, between rounds, his eyes would find you. without fail.
something about that gaze locked onto you across the gym made your chest swell with warmth. even in the middle of all that chaos and exertion, he still looked for you.
the trainer noticed it too, tossing his head back with a loud groan. “oi, lover boy. stop starin’ at your girl and hit the damn bag.”
you laughed softly from the bench. jungkook didn’t—he just narrowed his eyes at the older man and threw a brutal combination into the leather.
one afternoon at the studio, while you sat beside the trainer handing him a fresh cinnamon roll, the man said it casually:
“final’s in two weeks.”
your eyes lifted sharply. jungkook was inside the ring, hitting the heavy bag harder, faster, the dull thuds echoing off the high ceiling. your fingers tightened slightly around the plastic tupperware in your lap.
you stayed quiet, watching the muscles in his back flex with every strike, finally understanding what was coming—and what it could cost him.
later that night, dinner was simple—grilled beef with rice and veggies you’d prepared while jungkook sat at the counter, quietly watching you move around the kitchen. after you both ate and cleaned up the dishes, he disappeared toward the back of the apartment.
when you came out of the shower later, your hair damp and skin warm, the apartment felt strangely empty. then you noticed the balcony door cracked open just a few inches.
jungkook stood outside in the cool night air, leaning his heavy forearms against the metal railing. one hand held a burning cigarette, a thin trail of gray smoke drifting past his jaw.
you stared at his silhouette for a second, then slid the glass door open and stepped out. the cool breeze hit your bare legs immediately.
jungkook glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes softening instantly at the sight of you standing there—fresh out of the shower, wearing another one of his oversized shirts. his gaze lingering for a beat before he looked back out at the skyline.
you stepped right beside him, leaning your elbows on the railing, matching his posture, watching the city together. after a long moment: “you nervous?”
jungkook let out a low breath through his nose, half amused, half caught. “that obvious?”
you looked down at the cigarette between his fingers.
he followed your gaze, his jaw working. “don’t usually do this unless somethin’s on my mind.”
you nodded softly.
then: “two weeks,” he murmured. “winner takes all.”
“and if you lose?”
“i don’t.”
it wasn’t arrogance. just a cold absolute fact. you understood that about him now.
still, you looked down at his bruised knuckles resting against the metal bar, the fading yellow marks on his forearms, the hidden scars on his ribs and jaw. your chest tightened painfully.
“i’ll be there. for the finals. for all of it.”
something shifted deep in his eyes at those words—a powerful flare of emotion. he looked away again, taking one last long drag before crushing the cigarette out in the metal tray.
“don’t like you seeing me like that,” he muttered softly.
you frowned slightly. “like what?”
his voice lowered to a dark rumble. “bleeding.”
“i don’t like it either.”your expression softened completely. you stepped closer, closing the distance between you, and rested your head lightly against his shoulder. “but i know it’s part of you, and i’m here anyway.”
that right there—if it were possible right now, he’d have you wifed up and safely settled into his life. but there were still things he needed to put right first. and so, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against your forehead, lingering there for a long heavy beat.
you wrinkled your nose slightly. “koo...”
he blinked, pulling back just an inch. “what?”
you looked up at him, “go shower.”
his brows furrowed in disbelief. “why?”
you gave him a sharp look. “you stink.”
jungkook scoffed under his breath, a low laugh vibrating in his chest as he shook his head, following you back inside the warm apartment. “you’re lucky i like you.”
you looked over your shoulder with a subtle smirk. “you’re lucky i let you.”
that made him stop dead in his tracks for a second, just staring at your retreating back. then a slow, dangerous smirk spread across his lips.
you rolled your eyes playfully and walked ahead into the bedroom. jungkook watched you disappear down the dark hallway before dragging a hand over his face, a low groan escaping his throat.
fuck. you were getting way too comfortable. and that only made him want you a hundred times more.
a few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, steam followed him out into the bedroom while you sat on the edge of the bed absentmindedly brushing through your hair. your eyes lifted, and immediately dropped.
jungkook stood there in nothing but sweatpants. hair damp, water still trailing down his neck, over the cut line of his collarbone, and down the broad expanse of his chest.
you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry.
“what?” he asked, rubbing a towel through his damp hair, his dark eyes tracking you carefully.
“nothing.”
“liar.” his mouth twitched into a knowing smirk. he stopped right in front of you where you sat on the edge, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “you keep lookin’ at me like that.”
your breath caught in your throat. “like what?”
he leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer, “like you want somethin’.”
your hands slowly came up, resting against his stomach. his abs flexed tight beneath your palms. you slid your fingers higher, lightly tracing over the dark ink on his ribs. his broad hand found your waist, slid right beneath the hem of his shirt, resting flush against your bare skin. your body leaned into his touch without a second of hesitation. jungkook exhaled a heavy breath, his head dropping slightly as if he’d been holding himself together by a thread all night.
“you’re makin’ it real hard to be good,” he rasped, his thumb stroking the soft curve of your hip.
you smiled a little— shy but laced with a sudden confidence. “who said you had to be?”
that—that made him freeze completely. his eyes darkened, searching your face intently, stripping away every joke and tease, to make sure.
“y/n.” his voice dropped into a rough warning, thick with a question he barely dared to ask out loud.
you answered by reaching up and pulling him down by his neck.
and this time, when his mouth hit yours, it felt entirely different. slower, deeper, heavy with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. the kiss turned messy, breathless, and urgent in seconds. jungkook followed you without a drop of resistance as you backed up onto the bed, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, the small of your back, gripping you firmly like he was trying to hold onto all of you at once.
your fingers tangled tight into his damp hair, tugging softly, earning a deep, low groan that vibrated straight from his chest into your mouth.
his kisses dragged down your jawline, pressing hot and needy against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. your breathing turned shallow and uneven, your hands finding the hem of the shirt again.
slowly, you lifted it up over your head and tossed it aside. and jungkook stopped moving completely.
he pushed himself up on his forearms, his dark eyes dragging over your bare torso—no bra. nothing between his gaze and your skin. the heavy strain beneath the low waist of his sweatpants was impossible to miss now, his cock hard and entirely flushed with heat.
“baby...” his voice came out so rough, so deep, it sounded like it physically hurt him to speak.
your heart pounded against your ribs like a trapped bird, but you didn’t pull away. you didn’t cover yourself. “i want you.”
those three words nearly snapped the last thread of his restraint. you felt the violent shudder that ran through his whole frame. but still—he held himself back. because it was you. because this wasn’t just physical; it mattered too much.
“you sure?”
“yes.” you nodded, tears of sheer emotion pricking at the corners of your eyes from how overwhelming the weight of his devotion felt. your hand reached up, cupping his jaw, steady and soft against his stubble. “i love you. i want this.”
jungkook let out a ragged groan, dropping his forehead against yours for a long second, his eyes shut tight as he squeezed his muscles to keep from rushing. then his mouth found yours again—harder, hungrier, desperate.
“you got any idea what you do to me?” his words fell against your lips between bruising kisses.
“how you make me feel?” another kiss, deeper, pulling a soft gasp from your throat.
“you’re so fucking beautiful.” his breath was shaking now. “been tryin’ so fucking hard to be patient with you… tryin’ not to lose my mind every time you sit in my lap.”
you let out a breathy, weak laugh against his mouth, but he pulled back just enough to look at you, his large hands coming up to cradle your face.
“you know i love you, right?”
you nodded, your thumbs stroking his knuckles.
he lifted your hand and pressed a slow, reverent kiss to the back of it, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “love you so fucking much.” he rested his forehead back against yours, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. “if we do this… there’s no turnin’ back. you’re mine.”
“good,” you whispered against his lips. “i don’t want to turn back.”
that was all he needed to hear.
he stripped you out of your panties and his sweatpants, tossing them off the edge of the bed until there was nothing left between you but skin, heat, and raw anticipation. he hovered over you, shifting his weight so he didn’t crush you, his eyes never once leaving your face as his broad body covered yours.
he leaned down and caught your boob in his mouth. kissing, licking and sucking your meaty flesh had him drunk dazed as he couldn’t help but take his right hand and started pumping his cock at the mere taste of you. you were so fucking delicious.
the room started filling with your soft moans as he continued to trail his mouth down to your belly, stopping right above your heat. he lifted his head, a quiet gesture of permission to allow him to continue further. and when you nodded, he hooked the back of your knees over his shoulders, pressing light kisses over the lips before spreading you wide and devouring your pussy like it was the best fucking thing ever.
the feeling of his tongue sliding against your clit only made you louder and louder as he ate you out like a man starved. you arched your hips up, a plea for wanting more as you struggled to maintain the absolute pleasure he was already giving. and when you reached your high, jungkook made sure not to waste a single drop of your slick. oh boy, was he in for a treat.
he pulled away and came back and kissed you passionately, residue of your slick slipping past his tongue and into your mouth.
jungkook couldn’t wait any longer at this point. sliding his hands down your outer thighs, he lifted your legs to rest over his hips. he aligned himself against you, the hot pre-cum from the head of his length pressing directly against your core. he paused right there, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding back, his knuckles white where he braced himself on the mattress beside your head.
“look at me,” he commanded softly, his voice thick and dark. “i’ll go slow, my love.”
you looked up, your eyes wide and shining, your hands gripping his biceps. he pushed forward—slowly, deliberately, sinking into your tight warmth inch by excruciating inch. you let out a sharp gasp, your back arching off the bed as the intense fullness filled you completely. he was big and meaty—the sheer size of him felt overwhelming for your virgin pussy. but that soon turned into something beyond what any words could describe.
jungkook froze instantly, his jaw working hard, his throat bobbing as he swallowed down a groan. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your collarbone, holding completely still to let your body stretch and adjust to him. “fuck… you okay? tell me if it’s too much.”
“no,” you whimpered, your fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, pulling him down harder against you. “no, koo… it’s not too much. it feels… s-so good.”
at your words, a low, primal sound tore from his chest. he lifted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with raw, possessive heat. he began to move—a slow deep pull all the way out before driving back in, full and unhurried. every thrust was heavy, deliberate, and thick with restraint, setting a rhythm that made your head tilt back against the pillow. soft shattered gasps escaping your lips.
“that’s it, baby” he muttered, his thumb reaching down to stroke over your sensitive center as he rocked his hips against yours, hitting that sweet, deep spot inside you over and over. “fuck fuck fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.”
the sensation was overwhelming—the friction of his bare skin, the heavy weight of him pinning you down, the dark, rhythmic thud of his hips matching the frantic beat of your heart. you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, dragging him as deep into you as he could go.
“you’re so fucking beautiful. so mine. so wet and tight for me.” jungkook’s restraint broke. the pace shifted from slow and worshipful to hard rolling thrusts, his breath coming in heavy ragged hitches. “give it all to me, baby. just like that.”
the headboard thudded rhythmically against the wall, the sound of your skin meeting his filling the quiet room alongside your breathless cries. “ohh fuck you’re squeezing me. trynna drive me nuts, bunny?”
“koo, baby, wait—” you gasped out, your hands clutching at his back, your inner muscles coiling tight, shuddering violently around him.
“don’t wait,” he growled against your mouth, catching your lower lip between his teeth as he drove into you harder, faster, meeting every squeeze of your body. “let go. be a good girl and cum for koo.”
the tension snapped inside you like a pulled wire. your body convulsed around him, a loud cry breaking from your throat as waves of intense pleasure crashed over you, rippling through your core.
sensing your release, jungkook let out a harsh guttural groan. he buried himself deep into you one last time, his hips locking tight against yours as he spilled inside you, his whole body tensing hard before he collapsed forward, burying his face in your hair.
for a long time, the only sound in the room was your heavy labored breathing.
jungkook didn’t pull out immediately. he stayed right there, heavy and warm over you, his broad hand stroke down your side, keeping you pinned close to his heart. slowly, he shifted his weight to the side, pulling you with him so you were curled flush against his chest, your legs still tangled together beneath the sheets.
his lips pressed against your forehead, lingering there for a long, quiet minute while his heartbeat steadying beneath your cheek.
“you’re mine,” he murmured into your damp hair, his voice low, possessive, and completely satisfied. “i love you so much.”
you smiled softly into his bare chest, “i love you too, koo.”
~
jungkook woke first.
and for a second, he just lay there, staring at you. your hair was a messy halo across his pillow, your face completely relaxed, still sleeping deeply with your head resting right over his heart. his broad arm was wrapped heavily around your waist, holding you flush against his side like it had stayed anchored there all night.
and then—a stupid helpless grin spread across his face. wide. shameless. completely unraveled.
because fuck, you were here, in his bed, after last night. he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, unable to help himself.
that stirred you awake. you shifted slightly, let out a tiny sleepy hum, and blinked up at him through heavy lashes. soft, gorgeous, completely his.
“morning,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
his grin only got worse. “morning.”
you squinted at him, noticing the ridiculously bright look on his face. “why are you smiling like that?”
he scoffed, a quiet rumble in his chest. “can’t smile now?”
you narrowed your eyes playfully. “not like that. you look smug.”
he leaned down, catching your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. then another. and another.
“slept good?” he murmured against your mouth.
you smiled into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest to trail over his shoulders. “mhm.”
he brushed a stray strand of hair back from your forehead, his dark eyes melting with affection. “good.”
you kissed him again. then again. and again. until the lazy morning kisses naturally shifted—getting slower, deeper, hotter. jungkook’s large hand slid down over the curve of your waist, his fingers digging gently into your bare skin as he pulled you closer, preparing to roll you under him.
but before he could, you shifted.
with a smooth, sudden confidence that caught him completely off guard, you swung one leg over his hips and rolled on top of him.
suddenly, you were straddling his waist, sitting bare-skinned over his lap, looking down at him.
jungkook froze completely. his breath hitched in his throat, his hands stalling on your thighs as he blinked up at you.
“what’re you doing?”
you smiled—sweet, soft, and dangerously bold. “how ’bout round two, koo?”
for a full heavy second, he just stared at you. his dark eyes wide like his brain had completely short-circuited.
then he let out a low disbelieving laugh, his hands instantly gripping your hips with a firm possessive strength.
“baby,” he muttered, his voice dropping an octave into a rough, husky growl as he looked up at you like you were trying to kill him. his thumbs pressed deep into your skin, feeling the heat of your core resting directly over the heavy, rapidly hardening length rising between his thighs. “you keep this up and i’m never lettin’ you outta this bed.”
your cheeks warmed instantly at his tone, but you didn't back down. instead, you leaned forward, rolling your hips subtly against his, grinding yourself down against him until a guttural groan tore from his throat.
jungkook shook his head, a dangerous grin breaking across his lips. “cute in the morning and evil too.”
he didn’t wait another second. his hands surged up to wrap around your waist, hauling you down violently into another kiss.
he flipped you easily onto your back, taking control, his thick thigh sliding between yours to force your legs wide open. there was no slow buildup this time; the air in the room turned thick with heat and slick friction within seconds. jungkook guided his hard length straight back into your wet sensitive core with one heavy thrust that pinned your shoulders to the mattress and tore a breathless scream from your lips.
he worked over you with a raw morning urgency—his skin slick with sweat, his hips driving deep and rhythmic, his mouth leaving dark, possessive marks down your throat and breasts while your fingernails dug deep into the muscles of his back. when the shattering wave of your climax hit, jungkook drove into you three more brutal helpless times before spilling deep inside you with a ragged groan, collapsing over your trembling body and holding you tight against his chest while the rest of the morning disappeared completely behind locked doors.
~
the next two weeks passed faster than either of you expected.
life settled into a rhythmic, steady pattern. jungkook trained harder than ever—earlier mornings, later nights, his focus sharpening into something terrifyingly absolute as the finals drew closer.
every session at the studio lasted longer than the last. more rounds. more drills. more dark bruises blooming across his ribcage. more ice packs resting on his swollen knuckles at night. his trainer didn’t go easy on him. he never had.
while he fought and bled in the gym—you quietly built a life around him.
you kept his apartment warm, grounded, and welcoming. the kitchen was always stocked, his laundry folded neatly and put away. sometimes he’d come home late, exhausted to his bones, to find a hot dinner already waiting on the counter.
sometimes just you—curled up on the couch in one of his oversized t-shirts, reading one of your books in the quiet glow of the lamp.
those became his favorite evenings. he’d drop his heavy gym bag by the door, walk over without a word, and bury his face in the crook of your neck for five full minutes just to recharge.
there were days you visited the studio, bringing lunch, fresh coffee, whatnot.
other days—you disappeared for a few hours on your own, wandering the city streets and coming back with a small paper bag tucked securely under your arm.
when jungkook asked where you’d been, you’d simply smile, soft and mysterious. “just out.”
he didn’t press. he trusted you entirely. if you wanted him to know, you’d tell him in your own time. and that was more than enough for him.
some nights, jungkook would crash onto the bed and fall asleep before his head even fully hit the pillow, his body completely spent. other nights, he’d sit on the balcony late into the dark hours, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers while you sat beside him, resting your head quietly against his shoulder.
the morning of the finals arrived before either of you felt fully ready. jungkook sat at the kitchen counter in a plain black hoodie, his hands wrapped in clean tape, barely touching the breakfast you’d set out for him. his mind was already miles away, inside the ring, pacing back and forth behind his intense eyes.
you noticed his lack of appetite. you said nothing, simply reaching over to place a warm cup of tea beside his hand.
he noticed that too. he looked up from the counter, his dark gaze locking onto yours, taking in your calm unwavering face. and somehow, in the quiet stillness of that cold morning, that made him love you even more.
the arena was louder than usual. even backstage, the crowd echoed through the thick concrete walls—every cheer, every whistle, every chant vibrating right beneath your feet.
jungkook stood quietly in the corner of the locker room, hands already wrapped tight in white tape, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. he wasn’t nervous, just preparing.
you walked over carefully, your shoes making no sound against the tiles, not wanting to interrupt whatever sacred ritual this was. he heard your footsteps anyway, his eyes opening immediately and softening the second they landed on you.
“hey,” he murmured.
you smiled up at him, whispering, “i won’t keep you.”
he stepped closer automatically, like his body always found yours now, no matter where you were in a room.
“i’m gonna be out there.” you smiled, soft and sure. you reached up, placing both hands gently against his face, and pressed one soft kiss right against his lips—brief and warm. “i’ll be rootin’ for ya.”
“you better,” he teased, a faint smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. you squeezed his hand once, letting the warmth linger, then turned and walked toward the arena entrance without looking back.
the moment the door closed behind you, someone spoke from the shadows of the hallway. “done bein’ cute?”
jungkook snorted, not even bothering to turn around. “shut up.”
his trainer walked over, broad arms folded over his chest, looking him up and down with critical eyes. “you ready?”
jungkook nodded. “yeah.”
the older man stood beside him quietly for a long moment, staring toward the dark entrance to the tunnel. then— “remember what i taught you?”
jungkook answered without hesitation. “hands up. move my feet. don’t chase. breathe.”
his trainer nodded slowly. “and?”
jungkook smirked, his eyes hardening into steel. “…kick his ass.”
“there it is.”
they both laughed, cutting through the thick tension in the room. then the trainer stepped closer and placed a heavy hand on jungkook’s shoulder.
“you’ve worked hard for tonight. you don’t owe anybody anything. not me. not them.” he nodded toward the roaring crowd echoing outside. “you go out there… and you remind yourself who the hell you are.”
jungkook swallowed once, his throat working hard. “yes, sir.” the older man smiled—a real one, rare and unshielded.
“i’m proud of you, kid.”
that landed harder than any punch ever had in his entire career. jungkook looked away for a second, jaw clenching as he tried not to let the weight of it show. then he threw an arm over the trainer’s broad shoulder, pulling him closer until their foreheads bumped together—the exact way they’d done before every important fight for years. before sponsors, before championships, before any of this. just coach and kid.
the trainer closed his eyes for a second. “all the best, kid.” jungkook nodded against him. “see you after.”
then, the venue speakers exploded.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…” the arena erupted into violent sound. “AND IN THE BLUE CORNER…”
jungkook rolled his shoulders once, cracking his neck, adjusting his gloves. his trainer gave him one last sharp slap on the back. “go.”
“JEEEEOOONNNN JUNGKOOOOOOOK!” the tunnel lights burst blinding white, the roar became deafening, and jungkook walked forward into the light.
the finals were brutal, messy, bloody—everything jungkook had trained for, everything he had left in him laid raw out on the canvas. round after round, the arena shook with every hit, every dodge, every heavy fall. his body took damage—sharp cuts opening, blood dripping onto his chest, sweat stinging his eyes. so did the other guy.
but jungkook endured, like he always did, moving like a storm. and in the end, he stood in the center of the ring, hand raised high by the referee, victorious, breathing hard, chest heaving, bleeding, and entirely alive.
by the time everything settled, the crowd had thinned into quiet trickles, the overwhelming noise finally dying behind the heavy concrete walls.
the trainer walked beside you both toward the back exit. everything felt lighter now, like a crushing weight had finally lifted off all three of your shoulders.
the trainer stopped first, looked at jungkook, then at you, a small proud smile tugging at his mouth. he pulled jungkook into a rough brief hug, patting his back twice hard enough to echo. “golden boy.”
jungkook laughed tiredly, wiping at his swollen eye. “yeah, yeah.”
then the trainer turned to you, pulling you into a warm hug too. “take care, sweetheart.”
you smiled against his shoulder. “always.”
with a nod, he turned and walked off into the night, leaving just the two of you.
jungkook and you walked toward his motorcycle in comfortable silence. you reached the bike first, swinging your leg over smoothly, adjusting yourself into the back seat before pulling the dark helmet over your head. jungkook came around from behind, one hand dragging through his damp messy hair as he reached for his own gear.
but then— he stopped completely. when you had leaned forward to settle onto the seat, your shirt had lifted just slightly, your jeans dipping low from the movement. and there, on your right lower back, was dark ink against tender skin—still red, still raw and healing. his hand lifted instinctively in the air, then froze, afraid to touch it, to hurt you. and suddenly, the small paper bag, the two afternoons you’d disappeared, the careful subtle way you’d been moving around the apartment for the past two days—it all crashed into his brain at once.
carved into your skin,
jungkook.
~
thank you so much for reading; this is my first ever writing! hope you enjoyed it and let me know your thoughts! ✿
summary: trying to steal the gold necklace around his neck, you didn’t realize that the man you were stealing from was a high-ranking police officer.
warnings: officer jungkook x thief reader, explicit sexual content, dead dove, cnc/dub-con, gun play, belt choking, usage of handcuffs, primal play, free use/rape, public sex, heavy degradation, manhandling, daddy, dom jk, clit rubbing, spitting, mock sympathy, condescending dirty talk, cum eating, pussy eating, blow job, usage whore & slut, praising, multiple orgasms, manipulation, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, cum eating penetrative sex, creampie.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
Desperation has a way of rewriting your morals. It convinces good people to cross lines they once swore they would never touch, somehow making it feel like the only choice left.
"Let's check out the beer house tonight." Hanni said, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "I heard it's packed with rich people on Fridays."
Your brows knitted together. "A beer house?"
A knowing smirk tugged at Hanni's lips. She swept her dark hair into a messy bun before pulling out the chair beside the table, giving the seat a light tap as she gestured for you to sit.
The moment you settled across from her, she propped her elbows on the table and leaned in…There was a familiar gleam in her eyes—the kind that only appeared whenever she had a new scheme brewing.
"It's one of the most popular beer houses in the city," she explained. "The drinks alone cost more than what we spend on groceries in a week. People who go there don't think twice before throwing money around, which means they're exactly the kind of people we're looking for."
You couldn't help but picture it.
Crowded tables, loud music and half-empty bottles scattered across polished wooden counters. Men laughing far too loudly, their faces flushed from alcohol, expensive watches gleaming beneath the dim lights while thick leather wallets bulged inside the pockets of tailored trousers.
You frowned, unease settling in your chest.
"I'm pretty sure it'll be full of drunk old men, Hanni." you rested your chin against your palm. “Doesn't that sound a little... dangerous?”
Hanni dismissed the concern with a careless wave of her hand.
"They'll be too wasted to notice us," she said with a shrug. "Besides, those are the guys with money. A few missing bills won't even cross their minds."
She leaned even closer, lowering her voice as though she were about to reveal the greatest secret in the world.
"Just give them a sweet smile," she said, the corners of her lips curling into something dangerously playful. "Make them think you've taken an interest in them. Laugh at their terrible jokes, let them believe they're charming..."
She snapped her fingers between the two of you. "And before they even realize what's happening, you've already walked away with their wallet—or better yet, their credit cards."
A life built on stolen fortunes, calculated manipulation, and carefully crafted deception.
The words no longer sting the way they used to. They've become as familiar as your own name, each one another thread woven into the person you've become. What once filled you with guilt now slips through your fingers as though it was never yours to carry.
Perhaps that's what desperation does.
It doesn't ask you to become someone else. It simply teaches you how to live with the stranger you've become.
Earlier that evening, you and Hanni gathered everything you had stolen throughout the month, laying each piece across the small wooden table between you.
"We only gathered six hundred dollars this month, Y/N... This won't be enough."
A phone, a handful of jewelry, two wallets, and a watch clattered against the worn wood before settling into a messy pile.
"This won't cover this month's rent..." she let out a weary sigh, her manicured nails tapping absentmindedly against the tabletop as she stared at the stolen valuables and the few crumpled bills scattered between them. "And we still have enrollment next month."
Your lips fell into a pout. "But the jewelry I stole is real gold."
You reached for the bracelet, turning it beneath the light. The polished links gleamed against your fingers.
Hanni only sighed again, the exhaustion in her expression deepening.
"It's low-karat gold, Y/N. And there's barely enough of it to be worth anything." she rubbed her temple before glancing at the rest of the pile. "If you manage to steal more next time, maybe we'll actually get something decent for it."
You looked back down at the bracelet, the weight of her words settling heavier than the gold resting in your palm.
You weren't born into wealth…from kindergarten until the day you graduated high school, scholarships carried you through your education. Without them, you doubted you would've made it that far.
College was different.
Moving out had seemed like the responsible decision at the time. Renting a small apartment near the university was cheaper than spending money on transportation every day between your hometown and campus, and you couldn't bring yourself to ask your parents for more than they were already giving.
So you packed your clothes into two worn-out bags, hugged your mother goodbye, listened to your father's endless reminders to eat properly, and promised them you would be fine.
Your father spent his days baking homemade bread before the sun had fully risen, while your mother worked quietly as a bookkeeper, carefully balancing numbers that never seemed to balance in your own household. Together, they earned just enough to keep food on the table and a roof over your heads.
Needs always came first.
Wants became something you learned to admire from a distance.
Yet, strangely enough, you never felt deprived.
Your home was small, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood where everybody knew everybody, but it was always filled with warmth.
While your classmates spoke about family vacations abroad, arrived at school carrying luxury handbags, and replaced perfectly good shoes simply because a newer pair had been released, you found comfort in simpler things.
The smell of freshly baked bread lingering in the kitchen before sunrise. The sound of your father humming while kneading dough. Your mother's gentle voice reminding you not to skip breakfast, even when she knew you were running late.
You loved that life.
More importantly, you loved the people who gave it to you.
Which was why, when college came, you couldn't bear the thought of asking them for more. Every dollar they handed you felt heavier than the last, weighted by sacrifices they never spoke about but could never hide.
You watched your father work longer hours. You noticed your mother's tired eyes after another day spent staring at ledgers and receipts. They never complained…not once—but love has a way of revealing exhaustion long before words ever do.
So you promised yourself that you would become lighter.
You moved out. You searched for part-time jobs. You told yourself that no matter how difficult life became, you would survive without asking your parents to carry you any farther.
You really believed honest work would be enough.
Finding a cheap apartment hadn't been easy, and if there was one stroke of luck you could still thank the universe for, it was meeting Hanni.
You found her through a post looking for a roommate. She needed someone to split the rent, and you needed somewhere you could actually afford.
The apartment sat only a few minutes away from the university, saving you the transportation costs you had spent countless nights calculating over and over again.
Hanni turned out to be easier to live with than you expected. She wasn't the type to spend recklessly or chase after things she didn't need. Like you, she stretched every dollar until there was nothing left to stretch.
For the first few months, you lived off your savings.
Each rent payment made the envelope thinner. Each grocery trip reminded you that numbers disappeared far quicker than they were earned. You searched for work every chance you got, walking into cafés, convenience stores, restaurants—any place with a "Now Hiring" sign taped to the window.
When a fast-food restaurant finally hired you as a server, you thought things were finally looking up.
You couldn't remember the last time you had been so relieved. The excitement, however, didn't last very long.
The paycheck barely reached your hands before it already belonged somewhere else. Half disappeared into rent. Another portion went to groceries, transportation, and the endless expenses college quietly demanded.
Scholarships covered your tuition, but not everything else. There were laboratory fees, books that professors insisted were mandatory, printed materials, projects, uniforms, and countless little payments that no one ever warned you about.
The money came in. It left even faster.
And no matter how carefully you budgeted every cent, by the end of each month, you always found yourself staring at the same conclusion.
It still wasn't enough.
Hanni, however, never seemed to struggle the way you did.
For reasons she never fully explained, she always had money tucked away somewhere. Not enough to live lavishly, but enough to ease the constant pressure that settled on your shoulders every time rent was due.
Naturally, you asked where all that money came from. Hanni would only shrug, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as though the answer amused her.
"I have a lot of sidelines," she'd say, never bothering to explain any further.
It was vague enough to end the conversation, yet suspicious enough to keep your curiosity alive.
Eventually, you stopped asking…but you never stopped noticing.
One afternoon she'd come home carrying the newest phone model, casually placing it on the kitchen counter while she searched the refrigerator for something to eat.
The following day, it would already be gone.
Sometimes it was a watch. Other times it was a gold necklace or a designer wallet. The items constantly changed, disappearing almost as quickly as they appeared, but you never questioned her.
It wasn't until the two of you had grown close enough that she finally trusted you with the truth.
You remembered expecting disgust to settle in your stomach the moment she confessed. Instead, all you felt was curiosity.
Hanni told her story so casually, as though she were recalling an ordinary childhood memory instead of admitting to a crime.
She learned how to steal when she was still a little girl. Whenever she picked up a toy at a store or tore open a packet of snacks while trailing beside her mother, no one questioned her. People rarely suspected children, and Hanni learned that long before she understood the weight of what she was doing.
What started as childish curiosity slowly became instinct. Instinct became skill, skill became confidence, and confidence eventually became survival.
By the time she reached adulthood, stealing was no longer something she occasionally did—it was simply how she made a living.
She wasn't born into comfort either. Her family had struggled just as much as yours, if not more, and perhaps that was why you found it difficult to judge her.
You knew what it felt like to lie awake at night wondering how another month would pass.
You knew what desperation looked like because you had seen it reflected in your parents' exhausted smiles, hidden behind reassuring words they never truly meant. Maybe that was why her confession never horrified you.
Desperation has a peculiar way of changing people.
Because somewhere deep inside, in a place you refused to acknowledge, you understood exactly why she had chosen this path.
"You should blend in. Don't wear those ridiculous jackets or black caps." Hanni chuckled, uncapping the marker in her hand before turning to the small whiteboard hanging beside the refrigerator.
She drew little stick figures and arrows as if she were giving a university lecture instead of teaching you how to commit crimes. There were circles around the words confidence, timing, and exit, each one underlined twice before she tapped the marker against the board.
It sounded embarrassingly simple…but it wasn’t.
Your first theft had been nothing more than a granola bar from a convenience store, yet your hands had trembled so violently you almost dropped it before reaching the exit. Your heart pounded against your ribs with enough force to convince you everyone around could hear it.
Every customer who glanced in your direction felt like security in disguise, every beep from the cashier sounded like an alarm, and by the time the automatic doors slid open behind you, your palms were slick with sweat around the tiny snack bar you had risked so much to steal.
Hanni, meanwhile…walked out carrying a bottle of wine, two bags of cheetos, and three packs of mini m&m's tucked somewhere beneath her oversized cardigan. She looked utterly unbothered, stopping only to ask whether you wanted to eat at the nearby park before either of you went home.
You remembered staring at her with your mouth slightly open, unable to understand how someone could steal so much and still have the composure to worry about dinner.
She only laughed. "It gets easier."
You hated how right she was.
Over the following weeks, your trembling hands gradually learned to stay still. You learned that people rarely questioned someone who acted like they belonged.
Confidence, Hanni often said, was the greatest disguise anyone could wear, and manipulation was nothing more than convincing people to believe the version of you that benefited them most.
You practiced smiling at strangers. You practiced maintaining eye contact. You practiced walking away without looking back.
Little by little, it became easier to silence the guilt.
Two months later, you could finally say you were improving. Your movements were steadier, your excuses more believable, your lies smoother than they had ever been before.
Even so, whenever you compared yourself to Hanni, you still felt like an amateur watching a professional at work. She stole with an ease you doubted you would ever possess.
"Hanni, I'm not good at seducing people... you know that." you let out a groan, dropping your forehead onto the table with a dull thud.
For all the confidence you had slowly learned to fake while stealing, anything involving men was an entirely different story.
You have no experience.
Your thefts still involved people, but you always kept your distance…especially from men. You waited for moments of carelessness, slipping valuables from unattended bags, distracted shoppers, or pockets left carelessly exposed before disappearing into the crowd.
It was safer that way. The rewards were smaller, perhaps, but it meant you never had to charm, distract, or make someone lower their guard just to steal from them.
After all, you were still an amateur.
Romance had always seemed like a luxury you couldn't afford.
While your classmates spent their weekends going on dates or gossiping about their newest crushes, you spent yours calculating expenses and wondering whether instant noodles could count as dinner for the fourth night in a row.
Hanni had pointed it out countless times before.
According to her, manipulating people wasn't always about lying.
With men, it was about making them believe they had a chance with you.
The problem was…you had no idea how to do that.
You didn't know how to flirt, how to bat your eyelashes, or how to laugh at someone's terrible jokes without making it painfully obvious you were pretending. The thought alone made your stomach twist into nervous knots.
Hanni rolled her eyes, dismissing every excuse before you even had the chance to finish making one.
"Oh, stop it." she waved a hand dramatically. "You're very pretty, Y/N. Don't give me that bullshit! Just smile at them…one cute little smile and I guarantee they'll be tripping over themselves to impress you."
You buried your face deeper into your arms."But, Hanni—"
"No buts." she sprang to her feet before you could protest again, practically skipping toward her bedroom. A moment later, she returned with two shopping bags swinging from her hands, the grin on her face growing impossibly wider.
"Besides, I already bought us dresses for tonight." she giggled.
Oh, you were doomed.
"This is so short," you complained, tugging at the hem of the black spaghetti-strap dress for what had to be the tenth time. Every time you managed to pull it down another inch, it simply rode back up the moment you took another step, as though the fabric itself was determined to embarrass you.
Hanni had insisted on doing everything herself. Your hair fell in loose, natural waves over your shoulders, soft enough to hide the nervous rise and fall of your breathing. She had done your makeup too, dusting the slightest touch of glitter across your eyelids that shimmered every time the streetlights caught your face.
Even before you reached your destination, your feet were already protesting against the thin, strappy heels wrapped around your ankles, each step reminding you that beauty demanded sacrifices you had never volunteered to make.
Hanni glanced at you before letting out an amused laugh. "I can't see your panties from here, so you're fine."
You shot her an unamused look, earning another laugh from her.
Unlike you, Hanni looked completely at ease.
Her dark green off-the-shoulder dress hugged her figure effortlessly, paired with matching heels that clicked confidently against the pavement. Her hair was swept into a messy updo that somehow looked intentionally elegant rather than rushed, and with the confidence she carried herself, no one would ever guess that the two of you struggled to pay rent every month.
Together, you looked exactly like the kind of girls who had never worried about money a day in their lives.
Which was almost funny.
Because hidden beneath expensive-looking dresses and carefully applied makeup were two women desperately hoping to walk away with someone else's wallet, watch, jewelry—or anything valuable enough to buy another month of survival.
"Okay, let's order a drink first and look around," Hanni said, her voice barely audible beneath the chatter spilling out from inside the beer house as she pushed the heavy wooden door open.
You followed closely behind, your heartbeat already beginning to pick up.
You had spent the entire walk convincing yourself that the place would be filled with loud, drunken old men slumped over tables, too intoxicated to notice a missing wallet or an expensive watch. Instead, your expectations dissolved the moment your eyes adjusted to the dim amber lights.
The place was crowded…not just with old men, but with all kinds of people. Groups of friends occupied long wooden tables, raising glasses every time the football match playing on the massive television reached an exciting moment. Couples sat tucked away in quieter corners, talking over bottles of beer, while businessmen who looked as though they had come straight from the office loosened their ties and laughed with colleagues over overflowing pitchers.
Your gaze drifted toward the long wooden bar stretching across one side of the room, shelves behind it neatly lined with bottles you had only ever seen locked behind glass displays. The smell of grilled meat and fried food lingered in the air, mixing with the bitter scent of beer, while a small band adjusted their instruments on the stage, preparing for the night ahead.
You quietly took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous flutter building inside your chest.
You had been stealing for two months now, yet every new place made you feel like it was your first all over again. The fear of getting caught never truly disappeared—it only learned how to hide beneath your smile.
Hanni walked through the crowd without a hint of hesitation, weaving between tables before claiming two empty seats near the stage. When the server approached, she greeted him with an easy smile, the kind that belonged to someone who had come for nothing more than a quiet drink after a long week.
"Two draft beers, please."
The server nodded before disappearing toward the counter.
Hanni waited until he was out of earshot before her eyes swept across the room once more, lingering only for a second before the corner of her lips slowly lifted.
"I found your table." Hanni raised a brow, the corner of her lips curling into a knowing smile.
You pouted, instinctively following her gaze as your eyes wandered across the crowded beer house. Round wooden tables filled nearly every corner, occupied by groups of men laughing over clinking bottles, scattered glasses, and the remnants of another round.
Of course she'd choose men. You had long grown used to Hanni's reasoning.
Men were easier to distract…and according to her, far easier to manipulate than women.
"Which one?" you asked, squinting as you searched through the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Hanni let out a quiet laugh before leaning closer, her perfume briefly overpowering the scent of beer lingering in the air. "The third table near the bar," she whispered, careful not to draw attention. "They look a little older than us. Not too old, though."
She grinned mischievously. "I'd say they're giving daddy vibes."
You frowned at her. “Ugh, Hanni!”
Slowly, your gaze followed the direction she had subtly pointed, finally landing on the group she had been watching.
There were seven of them gathered around one of the larger tables, completely absorbed in their own conversation. They couldn't have been much older than Hanni had guessed, perhaps somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties.
Dressed in simple shirts, rugged jeans, and jackets carelessly draped over the backs of their chairs, they looked more like friends unwinding after a long week than the wealthy businessmen you had imagined on your walk there.
At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about them. Yet the longer you watched, the easier it became to notice the details.
A watch that caught the light every time one of them lifted his beer. A phone left face-up beside an overflowing ashtray without a second thought. Car keys, wallets, and cigarette packs lay scattered across the wooden table between bottles of beer and half-finished baskets of bar snacks, abandoned in the comfort of good company.
They laughed loudly, occasionally teasing one another, while wisps of cigarette smoke curled lazily into the air above them. They were so engrossed in their own little world that they never once looked your way.
"What do you think?" Hanni asked, her eyes never leaving the group near the bar."I say you target that table while I take the one near the door."
Your gaze lingered on the men for another moment before dropping to the table between you. Almost as if on cue, the server returned with your drinks, carefully placing two glasses of draft beer in front of you. Tiny bubbles rushed to the surface beneath a thick layer of foam, the chilled glass immediately collecting beads of condensation.
Hanni thanked him with a smile before wrapping her fingers around her glass. She looked... excited. There was always a certain spark in her eyes before a job, one you had grown familiar with over the past two months.
While your stomach twisted itself into knots, hers seemed to settle. The closer she came to danger, the calmer she became.
Your fingers traced the condensation gathering around your own glass as you quietly stared into the golden beer. The thought of walking up to a table full of strangers, pretending to be interested in one of them, was enough to make your stomach tighten.
You had spent the last two months learning how to steal, how to lie without stumbling over your words, how to smile convincingly enough for people to lower their guard.
But flirting? That was something entirely different.
Still...
You glanced down at the dress hugging your figure before absentmindedly smoothing the fabric over your thighs. Hanni had spent her own money buying it for you. She had curled your hair, done your makeup, and patiently convinced you that you looked like you belonged in a place like this. She had done everything she could to make tonight successful.
The least you could do was try.
The numbers flashed through your mind before you could stop them, reminding you how little time you had left before another payment was due.
You drew in a slow breath before finally looking back at Hanni, offering her a small smile that carried far more determination than confidence.
"Alright," you said with determination. "I promise I'll do my best."
Her face immediately brightened. "That's my girl!"
She lifted her glass toward yours with a grin so wide it was almost contagious.
"Cheers to that, baby."
The soft clink echoed between you, disappearing almost instantly beneath the laughter, music, and the constant hum of conversations filling the beer house.
Easy…smile, flirt and steal.
After a couple of minutes spent nursing your drinks and quietly familiarizing yourselves with the beer house, Hanni caught your eye from across the table. She gave the slightest nod—a silent signal the two of you had long grown accustomed to.
It was time.
You rose from your seat, smoothing the wrinkles from your dress before letting your fingers comb through your hair, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. Hanni disappeared into the crowd without another word, already making her way toward her own target, while you headed in the opposite direction, forcing yourself to wear the kind of smile she had spent weeks teaching you. Soft enough to seem approachable…confident enough to belong.
The barstool closest to their table sat empty.
You slipped onto it, offering the bartender a polite smile as he passed by before pretending to study the rows of bottles displayed behind the counter. From the corner of your eye, your attention never truly left the table behind you.
Your heartbeat steadied, not because you were any less nervous…but because your mind had finally begun doing what Hanni had trained it to do.
Observe.
A few wallets lay carelessly on the wooden table, abandoned without a second thought by men too engrossed in conversation to notice their surroundings. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly.
Tonight, maybe two wallets would be enough. Any more than that would only invite unnecessary attention.
Your gaze lingered for another second before drifting higher, carefully studying each of the men one by one.
If you were going to approach someone tonight, it couldn't be just anyone. You needed the one who looked the wealthiest, the one whose watch alone could cover next month's rent, whose jewelry might be worth more than everything you and Hanni had managed to steal over the past few months combined.
You couldn't flirt with all of them. So if you were going to take the risk, you might as well choose the wealthiest one.
Your eyes drifted from one man to another, careful not to linger for too long.
One wore a pair of silver earrings that matched the chain resting against his chest. Another—the one with dimples that appeared every time he laughed—had an elegant silver watch wrapped around his wrist, the polished metal glimmering beneath the warm lights whenever he reached for his beer. The man beside him looked much simpler, dressed in an ordinary black shirt without a single piece of jewelry to catch your attention, and you dismissed him almost immediately.
You kept looking.
Until your gaze landed on a tattooed hand lazily wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle.
Silver rings adorned nearly every finger, each one different from the next, and just above them rested a watch that looked far too expensive to belong in your world. Your eyes followed the slow movement of his hand as he lifted the bottle to his lips, only to notice the gold chain disappearing beneath the collar of his dark shirt.
His ear was adorned with several silver earrings, each one catching the amber light whenever he turned toward one of his friends. When he tilted his head back for another sip, the small silver ring through his lower lip glinted just as brightly.
Then your gaze wandered lower…a pair of Porsche keys hung carelessly from the belt loop of his black jeans, swinging gently whenever he shifted in his seat as though they were nothing more than an ordinary keychain.
You quietly looked away before he could catch you staring, your heartbeat quickening as your fingers curled around the wooden counter.
Target locked.
You immediately order a shot of tequila, not to get drunk, but to act drunk.
Hanni had told you that people lowered their guard around someone who seemed tipsy. A little laugh that lingered too long, a gaze that wandered a little too often, movements just clumsy enough to look believable. It made approaching strangers easier.
You thanked the bartender with a polite smile before resting your elbow against the counter. From the corner of your eye, your attention drifted back to the table.
His back was mostly facing you, making it difficult to study him without being obvious. Every now and then he'd turn toward one of his friends, giving you a brief glimpse of his side profile before looking away again, and somehow those fleeting seconds were enough for you to notice far more than you intended.
His jaw was clean and sharply defined, catching the amber glow whenever he tipped his head back to drink. A straight nose balanced his features effortlessly, while soft strands of dark hair fell across his forehead, shifting every time he ran a hand through them. Every so often, you caught sight of his dark round eyes, softened by the alcohol he'd been drinking, their usual alertness replaced by a lazy heaviness that made them unexpectedly... pretty.
Your brows knitted together.
You were supposed to be memorizing his belongings Y/N! Not his face!
The bartender slid your tequila across the counter. You murmured a quiet thank you before lifting the glass to your lips, taking only a small sip. The burn barely had time to settle in your throat before your eyes sneakily wandered back toward the table.
"Huh?"
His seat was empty!
Your brows furrowed as your eyes searched the group, confusion replacing the confidence you had spent the last several minutes trying so hard to build.
"Looking for me?” a deep chuckle sounded from behind you.
Your eyes widened, you turned so quickly you nearly knocked your drink over.
Even with you sitting down, he towered over you with ease, one side of his body leaning casually against the polished wooden counter. Up close, the details you had only managed to steal glances of moments ago became impossible to ignore—the silver rings decorating his fingers, the tattoos stretching over his right arm, the small hoop piercing his lower lip, and those heavy-lidded eyes now looking directly into yours.
The corner of his mouth curled upward…amused.
As though he'd caught you doing something you weren't supposed to.
"H-Hi!" you greeted, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended as you struggled to hide how badly he had startled you.
What the fuck.
For a split second, every lesson Hanni had drilled into your head disappeared. Your carefully rehearsed smile, your excuses, the confident persona you had spent two months trying to build—they all vanished the moment he caught you off guard.
He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
"May I help you?"
Your own brows drew together before you could stop them, your smile faltering for the briefest moment.
"Hm?"
"You kept looking at me." he chuckled, low and amused.
There wasn't even a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as though he'd caught you staring several times already and had simply decided to humor you instead of calling you out for it.
Heat rushed to your cheeks almost instantly, your mind scrambling for something—anything…that would keep your act from falling apart before it had even begun.
Trying to save yourself, you immediately gave him a flirty smile.
"Oh..." a soft giggle escaped your lips, "Was I that obvious?"
You tilted your head ever so slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before looking back up at him through your lashes exactly the way Hanni had told you to.
When he took a step closer, your breath hitched.
His thick black boots brushed against the legs of your stool, and with the way he positioned himself, his broad frame nearly shielded you from the rest of the room. It wasn't intentional…or maybe it was—but suddenly the chatter of the beer house seemed much farther away than it had a second ago.
"Uh-huh," he murmured, the single sound barely above a whisper.
The faint scent of mint lingered beneath the beer on his breath, close enough to make your thoughts blur for a moment. Up close, the gold chain resting against his collarbone shimmered softly, layered alongside several silver necklaces that framed the base of his neck.
Before your courage had the chance to abandon you…you slowly lifted a hand and rested it around the back of his neck, your fingertips grazing the cool metal chains lying against his skin.
"You're cute," you whispered, biting lightly on your lower lip as your fingers idly toyed with one of the necklaces. Every movement had been rehearsed in your head a dozen times before tonight, yet none of them felt natural now that they were happening. You only hoped he couldn't tell.
Fuck, he’s so handsome up close!
His head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering across his face before his gaze slowly drifted downward. It lingered far longer than you were prepared for, tracing the exposed skin above your dress before continuing lower. Instinctively, you fought the urge to tug at the hem that had ridden higher on your thighs.
Don't. Fake it until you make it.
"I am?" he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting into the faintest smirk. His tongue swept across the silver ring piercing his lower lip before he leaned even closer, his lips hovering just beneath your ear.
"Yeah," you breathed, forcing confidence into your voice despite the frantic beating of your heart. "Want you."
The words felt foreign leaving your mouth. Still, they had the desired effect.
As his attention remained fixed on the spot where your pulse fluttered, your fingers subtly found the clasp hidden beneath the chains around his neck.
One careful movement...that was all it would take.
You had barely begun to unhook it when his hand closed firmly around your wrist.
Your heart stopped. For one horrifying second, you were certain he'd caught you.
"Let's go to my car."
What?
"H-Huh? I..."
He lifted his head just enough for your eyes to meet his. The lazy amusement from earlier had disappeared, replaced by something darker.
"I can't fuck you here."
Your eyes widen, fucking was your limit!
Your gaze drifted to the thick gold necklace resting against his chest... the leather wallet tucked carelessly into his pocket... and the sleek black car waiting only a few steps away.
Fuck it.
You followed him in silence, the cool night breeze brushing against your exposed skin and reminding you just how short your dress was.
Your gaze remained fixed on his broad back as he unlocked the car, your throat tightening around a nervous swallow.
Earlier, when you had walked past Hanni, you had nearly burst into tears at the sight of her giving you an approving nod, silently cheering you on while she remained at her table, busy charming the men around her.
You couldn't back out now. Not after she'd placed this much faith in you.
The parking lot was quiet, a little farther from the beer house…the music fading into the distance. When he turned around, you gathered every ounce of courage you had left and greeted him with the sweetest smile you could muster.
Your mind raced, thoughts crashing into one another until only three remained.
First, find a way to slip the gold chain from around his neck. The wallet would come next, once he finally let his guard down.
Second, you were not going to fuck him.
It didn't matter how broad his shoulders were, how unfairly handsome he looked, or how pretty his eyes became whenever he smiled.
Your hormones could cry about it later.
Third, whatever happened tonight... for the love of God, do not get caught.
He looked down at you, one brow lifting ever so slightly when he noticed the faint tremble in your legs.
"Get in."
He pulled the backseat door open for you, and you offered him a small, flirty smile before carefully slipping inside.
The leather seat gave beneath your weight with a quiet creak, and for the briefest moment, you convinced yourself you'd have a second to steady your breathing, to gather the scattered pieces of your thoughts before facing him again.
The hope didn't last.
The car shifted as he climbed in after you, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound that seemed to swallow the last bit of space inside the cabin.
Your pulse faltered, the hem of your dress had ridden higher than you'd intended, exposing far more of your thighs than you were comfortable with, the fabric inching dangerously close to revealing the lace of your panties. Every instinct urged you to smooth it back into place, but you stopped yourself.
Focus, Y/N! You need to seduce him!
You had barely opened your mouth, ready to deliver one of the corniest pickup lines Hanni had relentlessly drilled into your head, when his hand suddenly pulled your hair.
Your lips parted in surprise as he tugged you toward him, leaving no room for hesitation before his lips crashed against yours.
A breathless whimper escaped you, your eyes widening for only a second before they fluttered shut. His fingers tightened around the hair above your nape, angling your head exactly how he wanted it, his kisses deep, hungry, and impatient.
The bitter trace of beer lingered on his tongue, flooding your senses until your thoughts blurred at the edges. Your body yielded without resistance, melting effortlessly against his as he drew you closer, the strength behind the movement making you feel almost weightless in his hold.
For a fleeting moment, you forgot your mission.
His tongue slipped against yours with practiced ease, stealing every coherent thought from your mind before instinct finally caught up.
You slowly lifted your arms around his neck, your fingers threading through the softness of his hair as though simply indulging in the kiss. Then, careful not to rush…they drifted lower, brushing over the warm skin of his nape before gliding toward the necklace resting against his neck.
“Open your mouth wider,” he rasped, pulling away just enough to speak. A string of saliva stretched between your mouths as his other hand slid around your neck…his long, tattooed fingers wrapping firmly around your throat in a possessive grip.
Your eyes widened…one of your hands remained tangled behind his nape, your fingers still toying with the chain around his neck, desperately searching for the tiny clasp hidden beneath his hair.
Too distracted to obey his request… he suddenly tugged your hair harder.
A startled gasp escaped your lips, and he seized the opportunity—his tongue slipping hot and messy into your parted mouth, kissing you with a hunger that left you no chance to catch your breath.
You barely kissed him back, surrendering to the pace he set as your mind gradually emptied. Somehow, through the dizziness clouding your head, your fingertips continued their quiet search along the cool metal resting against his skin, praying to find the clasp before he noticed.
“Mmph!”
A soft whimper caught in your throat when he bit down harshly on your lower lip. The hand around your neck tightened, his fingers pressing deeper into your throat until your breath hitched, the pressure almost choking you.
“What are you doing?” he groaned, pulling you away from his lips before effortlessly lifting your entire body onto his lap.
Large hands settled on your hips, guiding your legs to either side of him until you were straddling him completely, your dress riding embarrassingly higher over your thighs in the process.
“Hmm?” you murmured, blinking up at him through hazy eyes, your lips swollen and glistening from his relentless kisses.
He tilted his head, studying you in silence.
The intensity of his gaze made something tighten inside your chest. Your confidence, already hanging by a thread, began to unravel beneath his eyes alone, and without thinking, your hands abandoned the necklace altogether, drifting back into his hair as though that had been your intention from the very beginning.
“Kiss me back,” he rasped.
A quiet breath of relief nearly escaped your lips. He hadn't noticed.
You offered him the sweetest smile you could manage before leaning in again, your heart pounding so violently you were certain he could feel it through your chest. You kissed him as carefully as you could, trying to mimic the way he'd kissed you only moments ago, parting his lips with hesitant eagerness, hoping it looked natural enough to fool him.
To your surprise, he let you…he didn't take control or deepen the kiss. Instead, he simply let you explore him at your own pace.
Heat crept up your neck and settled across your cheeks, embarrassment blooming beneath your skin as the realization slowly dawned on you.
He wasn't following your lead.
“Baby...” he chuckled between kisses, his tattooed hand sliding up to cradle your jaw, holding your face steady with a firm grip. “You're not kissing me properly.”
Embarrassment rushed through your body so quickly it almost made you dizzy, your inexperience laid bare after only a few clumsy kisses.
Determination quickly swallowed the humiliation.
Before you could think twice, you leaned in again, kissing him with far more urgency than before, desperate to prove that you knew exactly what you were doing.
The moment he finally kissed you back, a breathless whimper nearly escaped you.
He kissed you effortlessly, guiding the rhythm while you struggled to keep up, your breaths already turning shallow enough that you were certain you looked seconds away from hyperventilating.
Determined not to lose yourself completely, you bit down on his lower lip, earning a low, gravelly groan that vibrated against your mouth. The sound alone made your stomach flutter. Taking advantage of the distraction, your trembling hands drifted back to the chain around his neck, fingertips carefully searching beneath his hair for the tiny clasp.
Your eyes fluttered shut when he sucked on your tongue, warmth rushing across your ears and down your neck so quickly it almost burned. It was your first time being kissed like this—his kisses were shamelessly lewd, all heat and desperation. Saliva glistened between your mouths whenever he pulled away, only to capture your lower lip again with another lingering suck that stole the air from your lungs.
Before long, the only sounds filling the car were the quiet, wet presses of your mouths and the uneven rhythm of your breathing.
You couldn't tell whether he was simply that good at kissing or if your lack of experience made every touch feel overwhelming. Either way, the way his hand remained wrapped around your jaw, firmly angling your head exactly where he wanted it, sent a shiver running down your spine.
A soft, helpless moan escaped your lips when you felt him spit into your mouth without breaking the kiss. The sensation sent heat unfurling through every inch of your body, your knees threatening to weaken even from where you sat on his lap.
Your thoughts dissolved into a haze, and before you realized it, the fingers that had been so carefully searching for the clasp of his necklace had gone slack, your mission slipping further out of reach with every slow, lingering pull of his mouth.
“Grind on me.” he groaned.
Your eyes widened, before you could even process his words, both of his hands settled around the curve of your hips, guiding your body into a slow, deliberate roll against his lap.
“W-Wait—”
His mouth found your neck, scattering soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin. Goosebumps rippled across your body as his lips traveled lower, his grip never once leaving your hips as he slowly rocked them back and forth, drawing helpless whimpers from your lips.
Heat rushed to your cheeks the moment you felt the firm outline of his hard cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.
“Roll your hips, baby.” he grunted.
His teeth grazed your neck before his tongue soothed the sting, the cool metal of his lip piercing dragging lightly over your throat.
Your eyes squeezed shut…losing yourself completely as you followed the guidance of his hands, the subtle throbs of his cock impossible to ignore through the layers separating your bodies.
“That’s it,” he praised, looking down at your rolling hips.
“Oh, gosh…” you moaned.
You couldn't comprehend how dirty and lewd this was, grinding against a stranger's cock while convincing yourself that you wouldn't fuck him.
His clothed mushroom tip grazed the apex between your thighs as he guided your hips through another slow rub, drawing a startled gasp from your lips. A wave of warmth unfurled low in your stomach, spreading until it settled heavily between your legs.
Fuck, you were getting so wet.
Your body burned with a growing tension you didn't know how to quiet. The fabric of your panties clung uncomfortably against your cunt. When his hands finally cupped your breasts over the thin fabric of your dress, a shaky breath caught in your throat.
Your fingers instinctively clutched at his shoulders for balance as he continued to maneuver your body with effortless ease.
“Oh my-”
His lips trailed lower…you sucked in a sharp breath when they reached the swell of your cleavage, your heart stumbling the moment you caught sight of his tongue slipping between the soft curve of your breasts, tasting the narrow valley created by the tight fabric hugging your chest.
“Hmm... so soft,” he murmured.
Before you could even process the praise, he leaned back just enough to gather saliva in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing before he leaned down and let a warm bead of spit fall between your breasts. It slowly trailed down the center of your cleavage, disappearing beneath the neckline of your dress.
A startled gasp escaped you, the shamelessness of it sent another rush of heat coursing through your body.
“Spread my spit, baby.” his voice dropped into a teasing murmur as he brushed a lingering kiss against your cheek. “I want you messy.”
He never stopped guiding your hips, slow, patient rubs against his lap while he watched you expectantly.
You swallowed thickly. It felt as though your body had slipped into a trance, your thoughts muffled beneath the haze he'd wrapped around you.
Almost absentmindedly, your fingers found the warmth between your breasts, gathering the wetness before slowly spreading his spit across the soft skin of your cleavage, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes following every hesitant movement.
Your gaze drifted downward, landing on the gold chain resting against his collarbone.
The necklace!
For a split second, you wanted to slap yourself.
You'd become so hopelessly lost in him that you'd nearly forgotten why you were here in the first place.
Trying to keep up the act, you smiled and gathered the warm trace of his spit onto your fingertips before slowly bringing them to your lips. A flicker of nervousness stirred in your chest as you parted your lips, letting your tongue glide languidly over your damp fingers, never once breaking eye contact with him.
His lips parted. “You like it?”
You nodded. “Hmm…”
“Want more?” he cooed, his voice rough with satisfaction.
Your cheeks heated, a little self-conscious under the way he stared at you before leaning in to kiss you again. You whimpered when he spat into your mouth while kissing you, trying to focus as your hands finally found the chain around his neck. Your fingers worked quickly beneath the curtain of his hair, your heart pounding so violently you feared he would hear it.
Then—the clasp gave.
Relief crashed over you.
You carefully eased the necklace free, letting the chain slip from your fingers onto the leather seat beside you with a faint clink before your hands returned to brace against his chest.
Your pulse hammered in your throat, so distracted by stealing the jewelry that you didn't feel his fingers hooking beneath the thin straps of your black dress until they were already sliding down. Cool air kissed your skin a second before you realized the straps had fallen from your shoulders, the dress bunched at your waist, your bra laid bare beneath his dark, hungry stare.
"Ohh—" a moan ripped from your lips when his hands grabbed your tits through the bra, his palms kneading the soft flesh as his fingers pinched and rolled your stiff nipples through the thin lace.
"So pretty," he praised, his eyes never leaving the swell of your breasts spilling over the cups.
His hand slid behind your back, his fingers flicking the clasp open. Your bra sprang loose, your tits bouncing free, your nipples peaked and aching.
“Keep grinding, baby.” he rasped.
Your hips moved before your brain could catch up, rolling against his lap. His hard cock formed a thick ridge beneath his pants, pressing right against your soaked panties.
The delicious friction made your cunt leak, slick pooling in the gusset as each slow roll of your hips rubbed your clit across his length until your panties clung to your wet, chubby slit.
“Mhm,” you whined as his mouth locked onto one nipple, his tongue lapping at the bud before sucking hard, his teeth scraping lightly while his other hand squeezed your breast, his fingers twisting the neglected nipple until it throbbed.
Wet sounds filled the car—the slurp of his mouth around your nipple and the squelch of your dripping cunt rubbing against his cock through the fabric.
You forced yourself to look down, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for anything that might help you finish what you had come here to do. Then your thigh brushed against the square outline beneath the fabric of his pants.
His wallet.
You drew in a shaky breath before rolling your hips against him with a little more desperation. A low groan vibrated against your nipple the moment he felt the change in your rhythm, the sound sending another wave of heat through your body.
A helpless whine slipped from your lips as your own hands wandered over him, trying to appear just as consumed by the moment. Your palms skimmed over his shoulders, down the firm planes of his chest, and lower still, making you swallow hard at the realization of just how toned he felt beneath your touch.
“Ouch,” you whimpered when his teeth suddenly bit into your nipple.
He only chuckled against your skin.
The sting disappeared beneath a lingering kiss before he lifted his head just enough to murmur.
“Slow down, baby. You're gonna make me cum.”
The teasing words had barely left his lips before his attention shifted back to your breast, his mouth closing around the swollen nipple with harsh, eager suction that made your thighs instinctively tense around him.
Even through the layers of his pants, you could feel how big and hard he was beneath you, the firm outline of his thick cock pressing insistently against your soaked panties with every shallow movement.
Fuck, focus Y/N.
His wallet had shifted dangerously close to the edge of his pocket, almost slipping free from the constant movement of your bodies.
You rolled your hips against him again…another soft moan escaping your lips as the friction sent a dizzying pulse of pleasure through you.
“Oh my…”
For a fleeting second, you almost forgot the wallet, your body threatening to lose the battle your mind was still desperately trying to win.
“Baby…” he groaned harshly.
His hands tightened around your waist, pinning your hips firmly in place before you could move against him again.
Confused, you instinctively tried to move again, but his hand beat you to it. It slipped between your thighs before firmly cupping your pussy over your soaked panties, his palm pressing against your wet cunt as his fingers slowly dragged against the damp fabric. A soft, unmistakable squelch filled the quiet cabin, and your breath caught in your throat.
“I said stay still, fuck.” he whispered, mercilessly squeezing your pussy through the thin fabric until another helpless moan spilled from your lips.
Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct, your mouth falling open as his slow, deliberate touch only made you wetter, the soaked fabric sticking embarrassingly to your folds with every movement of his hand.
A startled gasp escaped you when his free hand suddenly rose to your face, firmly squeezing your cheeks together.
“Keep your eyes open. Look at what I'm doing to you,” he commanded, his thumb finding your clit through the damp fabric and rubbing slow, lazy circles that sent a violent shiver through your body.
“Oh... gosh,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a breath.
Your thoughts were beginning to dissolve all over again until something caught your eye.
His wallet had finally slipped free from his pocket, landing quietly on the leather seat beside him. Relief surged through you, and you almost smiled in triumph, the sight nearly distracting you from your mission's success.
Before you could dwell on it, he hooked a finger beneath the damp gusset of your panties, flipping the fabric aside just enough to expose your slick pussy. His fingertips returned, meeting your bare cunt directly, and the sudden skin-to-skin contact tore another breathless gasp from your lips.
Your eyes rolled back as his long fingers slowly rubbed against your sensitive cunt. The cool metal of his rings grazed your slit with every stroke, sending a sharp shiver through your body and drawing another helpless whimper from your throat.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Enjoying yourself?"
You could only nod, slow and breathless, your chest rising and falling beneath uneven breaths. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, your face burning from every filthy thing you had let him do to you.
"Yeah?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a whisper. "You like my fingers, baby?"
Before you could answer, his middle finger slowly pressed into your tight, untouched hole.
A broken whimper escaped you, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as your body instinctively tensed around the unfamiliar stretch. For a fleeting second, your hand nearly came up to push him away, your inexperience heightening every overwhelming sensation. But he caught your face first, his fingers tightening around your cheeks, forcing your gaze back to him.
He inhaled softly before hollowing his cheeks, gathering saliva in his mouth, then leaned closer and messily spat between your parted lips.
"Swallow."
You obeyed without hesitation, your throat bobbing as you swallowed, your walls fluttering tightly around his finger at the command.
His hand slipped lower, lifting the hem of your skirt before his gaze settled between your thighs. He watched with quiet fascination as his finger slowly disappeared inside your virgin hole before drawing back out again, only to repeat the motion at an unhurried pace.
"You're so tight, baby." he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your pussy. "When was the last time you fucked?"
The question alone nearly brought tears to your eyes, embarrassment burning through you just as intensely as the confusing mixture of pain and pleasure his touch continued to pull from your body.
“L-Long time ago.”
As if Y/N!
He licked his lower lip, a quiet whimper slipping past your lips as the pad of his middle finger reached deeper inside your warm tight hole. His movements remained slow until his fingertip brushed against your spongy spot, the sharp ache of the stretch gradually melting into a pleasure so warm it made your body soften around him.
"Aww, is that why you're so tight, baby?” he whispered.
God, this was so wrong.
“Maybe you need me to stretch your hole again, hmm?" he cooed, lowering his head until his lips wrapped around your swollen nipple, sucking gently while his finger continued to work deeper into your tight cunt.
"Y-Yes," you mumbled incoherently, your rational thoughts dissolving as your hips instinctively rolled forward, chasing the slow rhythm of his finger.
The moment he felt you move, his free hand settled firmly around your waist, stilling you with ease. He released your nipple with a soft pop before a quiet chuckle escaped him, his dark eyes lifting to meet yours with unmistakable amusement.
"Patience, baby. I'm still having fun."
A pout tugged at your lips, ready to answer back, but the words never came. His left hand slipped between your thighs instead, slowly parting your folds before drawing back the hood revealing your glistening clit, exposing it completely beneath his dark gaze.
"Wanna suck this clit so bad," he whispered, his gaze fixed between your thighs as your clit pulsed beneath the weight of his stare.
He leaned down and spat over it, a slow trail of saliva slipping down your slit until it met the middle finger buried inside your hole. A helpless whimper caught in your throat, your eyes squeezing shut as he spread the saliva over your exposed clit with slow, pressured strokes, every messy rub sending another wave of pleasure through your body.
Both of his hands were devoted to you now. His tattooed fingers continued to work your tight hole with an unhurried rhythm while his other hand circled your swollen clit, spreading your growing wetness together with his saliva. His eyes never left your cunt, watching every tiny twitch, every shiver that rippled through you as though he wanted to memorize your pulsating pussy.
"You wanna cum?" he asked, lifting a brow as he watched your chest rise and fall with uneven breaths. His middle finger emerged coated in a thick ring of your white milky juices before disappearing back inside you, while your legs trembled uncontrollably beneath every slow sweep of his thumb across your swollen clit.
You nodded desperately, “Y-Yes…”
He pursed his lips, studying you for a long moment.
"You sure?"
"P-Please," you pleaded, your hips instinctively rolling in search of more.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" a small smile tugged at his lips, though there wasn't a trace of humor behind it.
Confusion barely had the chance to settle before he slowly inserted a second finger into your cunt.
A loud moan tore from your throat as the sudden stretch stole the air from your lungs. His fingers paused only briefly, allowing your body to adjust before they began to move together, scissoring you open with slow, rhythmic strokes while his other hand never stopped rubbing your clit.
The lingering ache of the stretch gradually melted beneath the mounting pleasure, your body surrendering to it completely. Your thighs quivered uncontrollably around his hand, your back arching as your orgasm crashed through you. Your eyes rolled back, your walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers while wave after wave of pleasure left your entire body trembling.
“Well done, baby.” he praised.
Even after the intensity began to ebb, your cunt continued to pulse around him, your legs still shaking from the aftershocks.
Only when your breathing had become nothing more than uneven gasps did he slowly withdraw his fingers from your hole, drawing another helpless whimper from your lips as the sudden emptiness met your lingering sensitivity.
Then he leaned in, his teeth grazed the shell of your ear in a soft bite before his lips brushed against it.
"I’m so proud." he whispered.
As your gaze drifted downward, it caught on the slight opening of his wallet, the sight striking you like a quiet reminder of why you had approached him in the first place.
Your fucking mission.
You bit down hard on your lower lip, gathering what little composure remained before forcing the words past your throat.
"C-Can I drink some water? I'm kinda thirsty," you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your thighs were still trembling from your release, your heart pounding so loudly against your chest that you were certain he could hear it.
You expected him to refuse…Instead, he simply nodded.
"Hmm sure, baby. Let me get it for you."
His tongue swept across his lower lip before he gently tucked a few loose strands of hair away from your flushed cheeks, his touch unexpectedly tender as his eyes lingered on yours.
You swallowed hard, relief flooding through your body so quickly it almost made you dizzy.
"I'll wait for you here," you said with a small smile, leaning forward just enough to steal a quick kiss from his lips before he stood.
His eyes narrowed, smiling a little, but there was something in them that you couldn't quite pinpoint.
The moment he climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him before disappearing into the noisy beer house in search of a bottle of water, you sprang into action.
You quickly fixed your dress before reaching for the thick gold necklace that had slipped onto the leather seat during everything that had happened between the two of you. Your fingers wrapped around it before darting toward his wallet, still resting exactly where you had dropped it after deliberately sitting on it when you asked for water.
Your pulse thundered in your ears as your gaze frantically swept across the interior of the car, searching for anything else of value. It didn't take long before your eyes landed on a small, heavy bag tucked beneath the passenger seat.
Without wasting another second—or even bothering to look more....you snatched it as well, clutching the necklace, the wallet, and the bag tightly against your chest before quietly pushing the car door open.
With shaky, trembling hands, you slipped out of the vehicle and hurried toward the nearest sprawling tree beside the parking lot, its thick trunk shielding you from anyone who might glance in your direction. Only then did you allow yourself to stop, your chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as you hugged your stolen belongings close, desperately trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart.
The necklace alone felt expensive in your hands, its weight unmistakable, and you couldn't help but admire the rich gleam of the gold beneath the parking lot lights.
This has to be high-karat.
Your eyes practically sparkled at the thought, relief and triumph swelling inside your chest as you silently congratulated yourself. You had actually managed to steal from him without getting fucked... and without getting caught.
Almost.
A small smile tugged at your lips as you slipped the thick gold necklace into your pocket, the reassuring weight of it pressing against your thigh.
Your attention soon drifted to the heavy bag you had grabbed from beneath the seat, curiosity getting the better of you. You crouched beneath the tree and slowly pulled the zipper open, your brows knitting together at the sight of something black and metallic nestled inside.
Frowning, you reached to get a better look, only for your breath to catch in your throat.
It was a gun.
What the fuck?
Your hands instantly began to shake. The bag slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a heavy thud that echoed far louder than it should have in the quiet of the parking lot.
You stared at it in horror before your gaze darted to the wallet still clutched tightly against your chest, your pulse pounding so violently it made your fingers numb.
"Oh God... this is a bad idea," you whispered to yourself, panic clawing its way up your throat.
For one reckless moment, you considered running back, returning the necklace, the wallet, the bag….everything—and pretending none of this had ever happened.
Maybe you could leave them inside his car before he noticed. Maybe you could still walk away.
But it was already too late.
If there was one thing Hanni had drilled into your head from the very beginning, it was this: once you stole something, you never gave it back. Going back wasn't bravery—it was stupidity.
And stupidity was exactly how thieves got caught.
With trembling hands, you slowly opened his wallet, your brows immediately knitting together when an identification card tucked behind a gleaming gold badge came into view.
Your stomach dropped. This wasn't a wallet at all—it was a badge holder.
A cold chill crept down your spine as your fingers shakily flipped the leather, your eyes scanning every detail printed across the identification. The words blurred together at first, your racing heart making it impossible to focus, until your gaze landed on the line that mattered most.
CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT
Rank: Captain | Name: Jeon Jungkook
For a long, terrifying second, your mind went completely blank, your pulse pounding so violently it drowned out every sound around you.
"F-Fuck! Oh God—fuck!"
The words tumbled out in a frantic whisper as your hands shook so violently you could barely keep hold of the badge holder.
Your breathing grew shallow, your mind racing through every possible escape, each one ending worse than the last.
You stared at the polished badge in horror, your heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest, when the sound of approaching footsteps suddenly reached your ears.
Panic surged through your body, and you instinctively turned, ready to run for your life, but a firm hand wrapped around your wrist before you could take a single step.
"Where are you going?" he asked with a quiet chuckle from behind you, amusement lacing his voice.
You froze.
Your gaze remained fixed straight ahead, too terrified to look back at him. Cold sweat trickled down your spine as your heartbeat thundered in your ears.
The heavy bag still lay on the ground at your feet. The gold necklace weighed against your pocket. And clutched tightly between your trembling fingers was his badge holder, still opened to the identification that had shattered every ounce of confidence you had only moments ago.
You had been fucking caught.
Not just by any random stranger.
But by a goddamn police captain.
"I got your water, baby," he said, his voice coated in quiet amusement. You flinched the moment the cold bottle brushed against the back of your thighs, the chill a cruel contrast to the heat of your panic.
"O-Officer, I—"
"You forgot something, didn't you?" he whispered against your ear, his grip never loosening around your wrist.
The bottle of water lazily traced the length of your trembling thigh, as though he had all the time in the world.
Your eyes squeezed shut, your legs threatened to give out beneath you, hot tears gathering until they spilled freely down your cheeks. Every frantic thought crashed into the next, leaving you unable to form a single coherent sentence.
He leaned in even closer, his warm breath ghosting just below your ear.
"You forgot my wallet, baby." his voice dropped into a slow drawl. "That's my badge holder."
A broken sob caught in your throat. Your future flashed before your eyes in vivid, terrifying fragments.
You could already see the cold metal of handcuffs locking around your wrists, the flashing red and blue lights, the backseat of a patrol car, a holding cell, your family finding out, your future slipping through your fingers before you had even been given the chance to fight for it. Everything you had worked so hard for, every dream you had stubbornly clung to despite your circumstances, all of it seemed to crumble into pieces in the span of a few unbearable seconds.
You had just thrown your entire life away.
“P-Please, I-’’
"Is my poor baby too dumb, or does that pretty little head of yours just want to get fucked?"
You shook your head frantically, tears spilling faster down your cheeks. "N-No, no, Officer, please... I'm sorry. It was a mistake—"
A startled gasp escaped you when he suddenly spun you around, your back pressing against the rough bark of the tree. Your tear-clouded eyes instantly met his dark ones, the amusement lingering in them only making the panic clawing at your chest grow worse.
He raised a brow, studying your face for a long, agonizing moment.
"Aww, look at you…so scared, baby." he cooed.
“I-I’m sorry-”
“Want me to give you a chance?’’ he tilted his head.
Hope bloomed inside your chest so suddenly it almost hurt.
Jungkook took another step forward, his broad frame caging you against the tree until there was nowhere left to run. Your entire body trembled beneath his gaze, your heart pounding so violently you could barely hear yourself think, and you looked up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, clinging to the smallest possibility that he might actually let you go.
"P-Please, Officer… I-I'm sorry..." you stammered, the words tumbling over one another in your haste. "I-I know it was wrong, a-and that—"
‘’Run.”
Your lips parted in disbelief.
"W-What?"
He slowly licked his lower lip, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that carried no warmth whatsoever. Stepping closer until there wasn't even a breath of space left between you, he brushed the pad of his thumb across your trembling lips, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Run, baby. Run as fast as you can.” his voice dropped into a low murmur, his tone as though he were talking to a child. "And when I catch you, I'm gonna take you to prison. I'll fuck you every day behind those rusty metal bars. I'll use your tight little pussy until your hole is gaping and leaking. Maybe I'll even let my comrades fuck you too. We'll take turns fucking that slutty, manipulative pussy of yours."
Desperation made people do reckless things.
It silenced reason, drowned out fear, and left nothing behind but the instinct to survive.
You spun around and bolted before your mind had the chance to catch up, your legs carrying you as fast as they could through the dimly lit streets. Instead of following the brighter roads, you veered into the narrow, shadowed alleyways, your panicked thoughts convincing you that the light was far more dangerous than the dark.
People could help you—but the moment they learned why you were running, they wouldn't see a terrified woman.
They would see a thief.
A criminal…and they would hand you right back to him.
Your lungs burned, each desperate breath sharper than the last, your feet throbbing against the unforgiving pavement as you forced yourself to keep going. When a tall chain-link fence came into view, fear surged through your exhausted body. You stumbled toward it, your shaking hands already reaching for the metal, frantically searching for a way to climb over it.
You never got the chance.
A powerful hand suddenly seized both of your wrists from behind, wrenching them backward before you could react. A startled cry tore from your throat as your body was dragged away from the fence, only to be slammed against it a heartbeat later.
“L-Let me go!” you cried.
The rough metal dug painfully into your cheek, your breath knocked from your lungs as he forced your arms higher behind your back. Then you heard it—
A sharp metallic click…cold steel closed around your wrist.
You were handcuffed.
He secured the other cuff around the metal fence, leaving your wrists restrained above your head. The cold steel bit into your skin as you instinctively struggled against it, your cheek pressed harshly against the chain-link, the rough metal scraping your flushed skin every time you tried to pull away. The handcuffs refused to budge, each desperate tug only making them dig in deeper.
"N-No... no, please," you cried, your voice breaking into helpless sobs.
Instead of hurting you, he reached up and gently combed a few loose strands of hair away from your face, the unexpected tenderness making your entire body flinch. His fingers lingered for a moment, idly twirling a lock of your hair around them before giving it a soft tug.
"Shh, it’s okay…" he said in a mocking tone.
"I-I’m sorry, please…I’ll do anything—"
The plea died on your lips when you felt him lower himself behind you.
“Anything, baby?” he whispered.
He settled onto one knee before slowly gathering the hem of your dress, inch by inch, until your damp panties were fully exposed beneath the cool night air. His large hands slid down to your thighs, spreading your legs apart with an effortless firmness that left your body trembling against the restraint.
Your eyes widened as you pulled uselessly at the handcuffs, your legs instinctively trying to close, but there was nowhere to go. A warm tongue suddenly pressed against the fabric between your thighs, dragging slowly over your sticky panties.
His nose remained buried in your tight hole, drawing in a slow, deep breath as though savoring every scent of you. His tongue dragged languidly along your slit from behind, the damp fabric of your panties doing little to dull the sensation.
"O-Oh gosh-" you cried, fresh tears spilling down your flushed cheeks as you felt him inhale against your clothed cunt again. His tongue swept over you once more, leaving your panties even wetter than before.
“Let me play with you.” he murmured before diving in.
You bit down hard on your lip, another wave of warmth pooling between your thighs despite yourself. More tears slipped from your eyes, the overwhelming pleasure tangling with the fear coursing through your body.
I am not enjoying this, I am not-
A low groan rumbled behind you as he spread your legs farther apart. His pointed nose brushed against your puckered hole, inhaling deeply.
You craned your neck to look around, but there was no one in sight. Only the lonely yellow glow of a streetlamp stretched across the empty street, casting long shadows around the two of you.
When he flipped your panties aside, you instinctively tried to close your legs, but a startled gasp escaped your lips as his palm suddenly came down against your inner thigh with a sharp smack, the sting urging your legs back open for him.
“Open up for me, baby. Let me taste your little pussy,” he murmured, giving your thigh another light tap as he silently coaxed you to spread yourself wider.
You were getting wetter, but the thought of someone's tongue directly against your pussy was beyond your virgin imagination.
When you still didn't move, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest.
You felt him rise behind you, the warmth of his body disappearing for only a brief moment before the unmistakable click of metal made your breath hitch. Before you even had the chance to turn your head, the cold barrel of the gun was pressed against your temple.
A broken cry caught in your throat, your entire body trembling.
“W-What-”
"Spread your legs."
His voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation. The barrel pressed more insistently against your temple, and with another shaky sob, your knees slowly fell farther apart.
A satisfied hum vibrated from his chest. Only then did he pull the gun away, tucking it back into the holster at the back of his belt before lowering himself between your thighs once more. His hands wrapped around them, holding you open exactly how he wanted, and the moment he buried his face between your legs, a deep groan escaped him.
“Oh, gosh!” you moaned.
You were already leaking, his broad tongue dragged slowly up and down your chubby, swollen folds before slipping between them, teasing your slit as it delved deeper, massaging your inner walls with slow, deliberate strokes that only left you wetter.
“Pretty.” he leaned back and spat onto your cunt, watching the thick strand of saliva mingle with your slick wetness. “Do you regret what you did, baby?”
His fingers hooked beneath your outer lips, spreading them apart just enough to watch his saliva disappear deeper into your cunt. He spat again, his gaze fixed on the way it slipped between your folds, leaving your sensitive inner walls glistening.
“Y-Yes,” you moaned shamelessly, the torture only making you wetter.
“Would you let me do anything I want?” he asked, staring at your fluttering cunt.
You bit your lip, feeling your milky juices drip from every degrading thing he'd been saying to you.
“Yes.” you said in a tiny voice.
He chuckled, “You wanted to be used like this, didn't you?”
He leaned in, his tongue flattening as he licked from your perineum to your clit in one slow, vulgar stroke, spreading his spit until his own drool began to trail down his chin.
“You wanted this…you sat on my lap, ground your filthy cunt against my cock, acted like a good little decoy so you could rob me. But your hole's been thanking me the whole time, hasn't it?”
You shut your eyes tightly when you felt him continuously spitting on your cunt, your pussy was getting so wet that you felt it dripping on your inner thighs down to your ankles.
He held your folds apart, leaving you completely exposed for his hungry gaze. Leaning back, he watched the way they trembled and pulsed beneath his eyes before leaning down again, his tongue already darting out to lap up every drop of your juices. Each time he swallowed, he would only spit over you again, coating you until you were slick enough for him to start all over.
Your eyes widened as the muzzle of the gun pressed against your inner thigh, cool, unforgiving steel sending a shiver through your body. It slowly slid higher until it settled against your entrance, the tip quickly growing slick with your wetness.
"O-Officer—"
“Shh, you wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? To rape your thief little pussy.” he mocked, his eyes fixed on the way the tip of the gun glistened with your milky juices as he slowly dragged it up and down your chubby slit.
Desperation was a frightening thing.
It stripped away reason piece by piece until all that remained was the helpless anticipation of whatever came next.
When you didn't answer, too absorbed in the feeling of the foreign gun against your pussy, he pressed it harder against you, drawing a pained whimper from your lips as tears stung your eyes.
"Answer me when I'm talking to you," he said firmly, applying just a little more pressure.
"Y-Yes," you whimpered.
He tilted his head. "Yes, what?"
You bit your lip. "Y-Yes, O-Officer."
He hummed in approval before pulling the gun away. His tongue darted out to taste the tip, sucking your wetness from the cold metal before releasing it with a soft pop.
A low groan rumbled from his chest as he buried himself between your thighs once more, diving back into your exposed pussy with relentless hunger. The obscene sounds of slurping, sucking, and the occasional spit echoed through the place, each one making you feel weaker, more helpless beneath him.
You bit down hard on your lip as you felt your orgasm creeping closer. You tried to hold it back, to keep control, but your body betrayed you.
Every flick of his tongue, every slow suck, every warm trail of spit sent another wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your pussy convulse beneath his tongue.
“F-Fuck-” you whimpered.
Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your arms ached against the restraints, and your eyes rolled back as the pulsing sensation deep within you grew stronger with every passing second. You wanted to pull away from his mouth, to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but his grip remained firm, holding you exactly where he wanted as he sucked out every last tremor, refusing to let you move even as the overstimulation left your body trembling.
“Mhm, you taste so good, baby,” he whispered, leaning back just enough to pinch your folds together, as though squeezing every last drop of your milky white juices from your pussy before leaning in again to catch it on his tongue.
A helpless whimper escaped your lips. Your legs were on the verge of giving out beneath you, your arms still held captive by the restraints while your pussy throbbed with overwhelming sensitivity. As he rose to his feet, his palm landed against your cunt in a careless slap, making you flinch before he lazily wiped the sheen of your juices from the corner of his mouth.
His hand found your hair again, fingers threading through the strands before tightening into a firm fist. He tugged until your head tipped back, exposing the line of your throat, and his lips brushed against your tear-dampened cheek.
“Wanna steal more, baby?”
His grip twisted tighter, pulling your head back until your neck arched painfully.
He slowly dragged his tongue along the salty trail of your tears, licking your cheek with slow strokes, savoring the taste of your cries as another quiet hum of approval rumbled in his chest.
You whimpered, your body trembling as you felt the hard outline of his clothed bulge press against the plush of your ass. He slowly ground his erection against you, a low grunt vibrating beneath your ear while his hand kept a firm hold on your hair, tugging your head back just enough for him to suck and leave harsh bites along your neck.
“What do you want, baby?” he whispered, grinding his cock more firmly against your bare ass. “My money? My jewelry?”
“O-Officer-”
His fist tightened in your hair, forcing another helpless whimper from your lips as he dragged his tongue along your throat, feeling the way you swallowed hard beneath him. “You wanted all of it, didn't you?”
His teeth sank into your neck once more as his clothed bulge rutted harder against the cleft of your ass, the seam of his pants catching against your skin with every slow roll of his hips. At the same time, his free hand slipped beneath your dress, yanking the fabric higher before grabbing a full handful of your bare ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises.
"My pretty, pretty thief," he praised, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his hips rolled against you with even more force.
He wrenched his pants open just enough for his hard cock to spring free, the heated length slapping against one ass cheek before the other. Pre-cum glistened over the swollen tip as he slowly ground the shaft along the plush curve of your ass, coating your skin with every deliberate roll of his hips.
"Feel that? I'm so hard for you, baby."
A helpless mewl slipped past your lips as you weakly shook your head, your entire body trembling while he continued rubbing against your ass.
“Fuck, you make me so fucking horny.” he grunted.
Your cheeks burned crimson, the same flush spreading across your neck, and another whimper escaped you when he suddenly jerked your head back by the hair.
"Grind back, baby, or I'll fuck this tight little ass of yours."
You cried harder, your body trembling as you reluctantly began to move your ass against his cock. A deep groan escaped him, his right hand settling firmly on your hip as he looked down, watching the way his hard length slid slowly through the cleft of your ass with every hesitant grind.
He spat over the curve of your ass for added lubrication, and a helpless cry caught in your throat when you felt the warm saliva land against your puckered rim. Despite the humiliation, your pussy only grew wetter.
His tattooed hand suddenly snaked around your waist, trailing lower until it reached your cunt. You gasped as his fingers cupped your pussy before hooking between your folds, spreading your lips apart into a lewd V-shape for him to admire.
“Look down and watch your clit, baby.” he rasped, tilting your head down so your gaze fell between your legs.
“P-Please...” you croaked, your body growing weaker by the second, your pussy aching for more even as the rest of you threatened to give out.
“Wanna be fucked so bad, huh?”
You gasped as his middle finger suddenly pushed between the V-shaped hold of his fingers, slipping inside your tight cunt. Your walls fluttered helplessly around the thick digit as he slowly worked it deeper.
“Oh! Mhmp!” you screamed.
His cock left your ass, the slick tip dragging slowly down until it notched against your entrance, smearing pre-cum and his spit over your swollen folds.
“Gonna fuck you good, baby…you’ve been a very bad girl.” he yanked your hair, tilting your head back as his tongue traced a slow path from your neck to the shell of your ear. “Need to fuck some sense into you, hmm?’’
“Mhmp!” you whimpered.
“Shh... moan for me, baby. It'll feel good.” his finger pressed deeper one last time, stretching your walls before he slowly withdrew it. The emptiness lasted only a heartbeat before he replaced it with the thick, leaking head of his cock, nudging its way against your entrance.
“Ahhh!” you screamed at the sudden stretch, his thick cock forcing its way into your tight pussy until you could feel every pulsing vein dragging against your walls as he pushed deeper.
He thrust halfway, then stopped, watching your cunt spasm around him, a thin ribbon of milky white release clinging to his shaft like a ring.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he slowly pulled back before driving into you harder, bottoming out in one deep thrust, his pelvis slamming against your ass hard enough to make the fence rattle.
“Need to use this cunt every day. Maybe I’ll let my comrades fuck this tight little cunt so they can loosen you up for me, yeah?” he grunted, pushing even deeper until his balls rested snug against your cunt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against the curve of your ass with every shallow grind.
“U-Ugh, p-please...” you screamed, trying to wriggle, but he only answered with a low grunt against your ear. Then, without warning, he withdrew his cock completely.
For one fleeting moment, you thought he was finally going to let you go.
But your eyes widened the instant you heard the unmistakable clink of his leather belt being unclasped.
Your eyes widened as you felt him wrap the leather around your neck, fastening it just snug enough for him to tug whenever your cries grew too loud, cutting off your words with every sharp pull.
“Behave, baby.” he chuckled, easing himself inside you once more while keeping a firm grip on the belt for leverage. Every now and then, he gave it another deliberate tug, silencing your screams as his hips continued to drive into you.
The moment his hips began to roll against yours, your eyes fluttered back, pleasure blooming beneath the sting until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
“O-Oh, O-Officer!” a shaky sob escaped your lips, born as much from the humiliation as the sensation itself. Your pussy ached for more, clenching helplessly around his thick girth, betraying you with every pulse.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from behind you. His arm slid around your waist, holding you firmly against him as he circled his hips into yours, each relentless thrust threatening to lift your body off your feet.
“Is my baby enjoying this?” he whispered, giving the leather another measured yank, just enough to cut your sob short. The strap bit into the flushed skin of your throat as his hips snapped forward again, his balls slapping wetly against your cunt with every forceful thrust.
“This is turning you on, huh?”
You shook your head, but your pussy only grew wetter, your cries slowly dissolving into helpless moans as he continued to fuck you from behind.
“Want me to stop?” he whispered.
“N-No, Officer.” you whimpered, tears slipping down your cheeks as you gave a slow, trembling shake of your head.
“Yeah? You like getting used?”
He gave the belt another sharp tug, cutting off your whimpers before loosening it just enough to let a broken moan spill from your lips. Then he drove into you even deeper, his mushroom tip grinding against your spongy walls until you could feel your own milky juices coating his shaft.
"Gonna lock you up in a cell, baby… you'll be the precinct's little fucktoy."
The moment his thick head brushed against your g-spot, your entire body spasmed around his cock. A harsh groan tore from his throat as your walls clamped down on him, forcing him to pull out almost immediately. His movements turned urgent, one hand fumbling for the keys clipped to his belt while the other steadied you. Your hazy eyes fluttered shut as you felt the handcuffs finally come undone from your wrists.
You thought he was done.
A weak gasp escaped your lips when he suddenly flipped you over to face him, your exhausted arms falling limply to your sides as he stripped away the rest of your dress. Without a word, he lifted you with effortless strength and pinned you against the cold metal fence before guiding his hard cock back inside you. A broken whimper slipped from your throat at the oversensitivity left behind by your previous orgasm, your body instinctively tensing around him as his mouth found your exposed nipples, sucking them greedily while he chased his own release.
Your body bounced helplessly with every powerful thrust, like a toy being used exactly as he pleased. Your tongue nearly lolled from your parted lips, your mind reduced to nothing but scattered pleasure as his larger frame manhandled yours with ease. Low grunts and strained moans vibrated against your swollen nipples, each sound muffled by the way his mouth refused to leave them.
A rough growl tore from his throat as his climax finally overtook him. You felt the thick warmth of his release spilling deep inside your already used hole, his hips continuing to roll against yours in slow, deep motions, as though determined to push every last drop of his cum even deeper.
“Fuck, baby,” his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your breast, the sharp sting blending seamlessly with the lingering waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Some of it trickled down the insides of your thighs, warm against your skin. Your eyes fluttered, barely able to stay open…your body hanging limply in his grasp.
When he finally set you back on your feet, your legs nearly gave out beneath you. Before you could steady yourself, he was already kneeling between your thighs again, firmly spreading them apart as though he hadn't just reduced them to trembling.
“W-Wait-” you panicked.
A helpless cry escaped your lips when his mouth found your swollen pussy once more, lapping up the mixture of his release and your milky wetness, slurping every drop with relentless hunger. The overstimulation sent your body reeling, your clit already so unbearably sensitive that the moment his tongue slid upward to wrap around it, your pussy pulsed against his mouth, another orgasm crashing through you before you could stop it.
He looked up at you with heavy lidded eyes, watching every twitch and shudder that overtook your body as you came around his mouth.
You could see the way his cheeks hollowed with every slow suck on your clit, and somehow the sight of his discarded gun and badge lying carelessly on the floor beside him made the moment feel even dirtier—
A police officer on his knees, devotedly eating out the very thief he had caught.
Only when he was satisfied did he rise to his feet. His hand slipped into your hair, gently tugging you toward him until his lips claimed yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you with greedy desperation. Your eyelids grew heavy, your knees threatening to buckle again, your body barely able to remain upright.
You flinched when you felt his hardened cock brush against your inner thighs even as he continued kissing you, a wave of panic surging through your exhausted body. Your pussy already felt swollen and unbearably sensitive, every nerve still humming from the relentless orgasms he had pulled from you.
As though sensing the fear creeping into your expression, he let out a low chuckle, slowly pulling away from your lips to study your face.
"Aww, is my baby tired?" he cooed, the words dripping with mock honey as he nudged your chin upward.
You shook your head, your body instinctively yielding to whatever he was going to do next.
The corner of his mouth twitched before he bit down on his lower lip, your quiet submission enough to make his cock throb.
"Kneel for me."
Your knees trembled beneath you as you slowly lowered yourself, a startled gasp escaping your lips the moment the swollen tip dragged a lazy streak of pre-cum across your cheek.
"Open up, baby…daddy's not done." he gathered your hair into one hand with a gentleness that belonged to a lover rather than the man standing before you, tilting your face toward his groin, a smile tugging at his lips that never quite reached the darkness in his eyes.
"Clean up the mess you made, hmm? Open wide for Officer."
The swollen head nudged past your lips, and a mock-pitying sigh slipped from him as your mouth slowly yielded around his cock, your tongue flattening instinctively beneath the weight before a helpless gag caught in your throat.
"There, there," he murmured, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair. "Suck nice and slow, pretty girl."
He began to rock his hips into your mouth in slow, shallow thrusts, while his free hand continued to pet your hair with a tenderness so painfully at odds with the degradation spilling from his lips.
"That's it, baby," he praised softly. "Tongue flat, like the dumb, cute slut you are."
He pushed his cock deeper until the swollen mushroom tip nudged the back of your throat, the prominent veins along his shaft dragging against the roof of your mouth with every slow thrust, the upward curve making each movement reach even deeper.
"I can give you everything you want, baby," he whispered, a groan slipping past his lips as his thrusts gradually became sloppier, his grip on your hair tightening with every push. Saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth as you fought the urge to choke, wet, muffled gargles escaping your throat each time he buried himself deeper. Your eyes burned, quickly turning red as tears pooled along your lash line.
He cradled your hair once more, the tenderness of the gesture clashing with the relentless pace of his hips.
"I can provide for you... spoil you with all of my money," he murmured, easing himself forward until your nose brushed against the coarse hair at his pelvis.
He held your face snugly in place for a brief moment before slowly rolling his hips, then gently pulled you back just enough to let you catch your breath, his saliva-slick cock dragging across your flushed cheeks.
"Do you want that?" he asked, tilting his head as he lazily ground his cock against your swollen cheek.
You nodded eagerly, your tear-filled eyes never leaving his.
He chuckled, giving your cheek a light tap with the head of his cock. "Do you understand me, baby?"
You pouted…your cheeks burning red, your eyes swollen, your lips wet with his precum.
“Mhm..”
“Mhm?” he chuckled.
He bit his lower lip as he stared down at you, quietly admiring the mess he'd made. “Cute.”
Without warning, he yanked your head forward until he was fully seated inside your mouth, your nose pressed into his pubic hair as his balls slapped against your chin with each shallow roll of his hips.
"Gurk—gurk—"
You choked around him, tears immediately spilling down your cheeks, but the only response he gave was a deep groan as he slowly began to fuck your face, each thrust forcing another muffled gargle from your throat.
"Fuck, baby...I'm gonna cum."
He pulled out just enough to lean down and spit onto your tongue before pushing his cock back into your mouth in one smooth thrust, the loose belt still hanging around your neck, its end dragging through the dirt every time your head was forced forward.
You gagged helplessly around him, your cheeks hollowing as your eyes rolled back, your head rocking back and forth with every relentless thrust while he used your mouth however he pleased. And when you felt his rhythm begin to falter, his thrusts growing rougher and increasingly sloppy, he suddenly pulled free with a low groan. Before you could even catch your breath, he hauled you to your feet, one arm wrapped firmly around your body as he guided his cock against your cunt, his other hand positioning himself before pushing his hard cock back into your tight hole.
“I’m gonna cum inside baby, a reward for being a good little toy for daddy.”
A broken cry escaped your lips as he buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering the moment he came. Thick, warm spurts filled you one after another while your body trembled from the lingering overstimulation, his hips continuing to jerk and roll against yours as he emptied every last drop inside you.
"These are worth thousands, Y/N! Oh my God."
Hanni's eyes widened in utter disbelief, her gaze sweeping across the worn wooden table as though she couldn't decide which stolen treasure to look at first.
A thick leather wallet, its compartments stuffed with crisp bills. Heavy gold necklaces lay tangled together beside matching rings, each piece gleaming with the unmistakable richness of high-karat gold. A limited-edition watch rested nearby, its polished face catching the kitchen light with every slight movement. And a duffel bag overflowed with expensive perfumes, bottle after bottle worth more than most people's monthly salary.
A slow smile tugged at your lips as your gaze wandered over Jungkook's belongings scattered across the table.
You never told Hanni that you'd gotten caught.
Instead, you let her believe everything had gone according to plan.
Desperation has a way of rewriting your morals. It convinces good people to cross lines they once swore they would never touch, somehow making it feel like the only choice left.
He had given you far more than you had ever planned on stealing.
Tucked beneath your bed, hidden inside an old shoebox, were stacks of cash and signed checks worth enough to keep you comfortable for a long while—buying you the time to find a better path for yourself.
You hadn't even told Hanni about them.
Not because you didn't trust her, but because you knew the moment she saw that kind of money, questions would follow. Questions you couldn't answer without admitting where it had come from. So you kept the cash hidden, the checks tucked safely beneath it, and carried the secret alone.
He still hadn't turned you over to the authorities, even though it was painfully obvious he'd known exactly what kind of person you were from the very beginning.
From the moment he'd let you reach for the clasp of his necklace, he'd already known.
No high-ranking police officer—especially not a captain…would've failed to notice what you were trying to do. He had seen through you from the very beginning, long before you'd ever managed to slip a single thing into your hands.
Why did he let you?
You smiled seductively, slipping the watch and wallet beneath your dress before taking another sip of your now-warm beer, your gaze lingering on your target, who was far too drunk to notice the way your attention had never truly been on him.
Perhaps you hadn't changed.
Because here you were, stealing again…chasing the same thrill, the same rush, while somewhere beneath every excuse you made for yourself, another reason quietly waited.
Maybe you wanted to see him again.
You left the crowded club with the stolen watch and wallet hidden beneath your dress, weaving through the lingering crowd until the music faded behind you. The cool night air greeted your flushed skin as you made your way toward the smoking area, where you and Hanni had agreed to meet.
You had been stealing for six months now.
You managed to steal from a shopping mall, a restaurant, a boutique, and even a high-end store—your usual targets where men were rarely involved.
Tonight, you decided to try flirting again…attempting to seduce someone despite the fact that your only experience had been with him.
Before you could even pull out your phone to text Hanni, someone pushed you against the cold brick wall.
Familiar dark, round eyes stared back at you, the same pierced lips curled around a cigarette as smoke drifted lazily into the night. Tattooed arms caged you in on either side, leaving nowhere for you to go.
Your eyes widened.
Seeing him dressed in the crisp navy uniform of a police captain stole the air from your lungs.
Gold captain's bars gleamed from the epaulets on his shoulders, while a polished metal badge rested proudly over his chest. His duty belt sat low around his waist, crowded with the familiar weight of handcuffs, a radio, holster, and the rest of the equipment that came with his authority. The neatly pressed fabric, the black tie tucked beneath the collar, the nameplate pinned above his pocket—it all transformed the man you remembered into someone far more intimidating.
Power looked infuriatingly good on him.
Before you could utter a single word, his left hand slipped under your dress. Your breath caught as his fingers found the watch and wallet strapped against your thigh with effortless precision.
“Looks like my baby didn't learn her lesson, hmm?”
your husband jeon jungkook comes back home to you - his 8 months pregnant, needy wife - after a reluctantly accepted five day business trip.
| PAIRING | : husband!jungkook x pregnantwife!reader
| GENRE | : married au, porn with little plot, smut and fluff
| WARNINGS | : 18+, explicit language, explicit smut, masturbation (f.), oral (f. + m. rec), penetrative sex, riding, pregnancy sex, titty play, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, lactation/he drinks her breast milk??, titty sucking, raw sex, scratching, making out, creampie, mentions of sex toys, use of vibrator, big dick jk.
| WC | : 4.3k
| FROM ME | : hi everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you all are well and safe - I wrote this in 30min and it’s not proofread so pls don’t come for me :) please, if you are a minor do not interact!!
five days weren’t supposed to feel this long.
jungkook had reluctantly left on sunday morning for a business trip overseas, it was now friday evening. he had been travelling since early morning, having taken a series of trains, buses, and flights just to get to the airport which was still a two hour taxi ride away from your shared apartment.
he was exhausted, slightly hangry, and terribly missing you - his heavily pregnant wife, his y/n, the one and only love of his life.
you were just about eight months now, always hungry and waddling everywhere, your due date fast approaching. jungkook had been very hesitant to leave, refusing the offer at first. but then you assured him that you could call your best friend - jina, who lived 5 minutes away - if anything happened, and that this trip could lead to a potential promotion for him, which would benefit you both greatly given the baby on the way.
even though jungkook knew you’d be fine for a couple of days with help nearby, he still didn’t want to leave at all - he missed whispering to your belly at night, missed kissing and stroking your hair until you fell asleep, missed being able to slip it in gently from behind when you got needy during the night - which was nearly every night.
a little pathetic for a 5 day absence, yes. but this was jungkook - you’d been married for 3 years, dated for 5, and his obsession with you only grew stronger with each passing day.
your pregnancy wasn’t planned, but it wasn’t a surprise, either. you weren’t on any birth control and hated when jungkook wore condoms, so it was only a matter of time. a baby now wasn’t an inconvenience, you worked remotely and jungkook’s job was steady. he couldn’t wait to become a father, to grow your family and watch either a mini you or him run around the apartment.
throughout your pregnancy, jungkook had literally stopped letting you do anything tiring - especially when your belly started growing bigger. he was constantly by your side, usually one hand on your belly and the other stroking your hair. he cleaned the whole apartment regularly, made sure you took at least two naps a day, and tended to every pregnant need you had, no matter how silly it was.
jungkook always agreed to doing whatever you wanted, even before you got pregnant. you were his main priority, and he wanted to make you feel happy and loved all the time. so when he’d come home from work to find you sprawled on the couch balancing a box of pizza on your bump whilst watching tv? he just took out a spoon and your favourite ice cream from the freezer, sat beside you, and fed you the ice cream with one hand while the other rubbed your swollen feet.
he was never overbearing, just wanted to ensure you and the baby were completely comfortable and calm - even if doing so meant watching you eat junk food all the time and treating you like you were a piece of easily breakable fine china.
you knew he was constantly working hard so you didn’t have to. he’d assembled almost everything in the nursery himself or with the help of taehyung - a close friend - during weekends, he’d ask to work from home some days just because you didn’t want to let him go in the mornings. and despite being exhausted, he still intently listened to you ramble on about whatever whilst tenderly rubbing your back each night.
you thought this trip might be helpful for jungkook, might give him a deserved break from you, even though he’d text you every twenty minutes complaining about how he’d rather be home with you.
you wanted to do something special for him tonight. you wanted to fulfill jungkook’s needs, too. being pregnant meant you two went on a lot less dates, you dressed up less, tired most of the time. and whilst jungkook claimed this was definitely not a problem - you just felt like you weren’t really trying for him anymore.
he had called you fifteen minutes ago, asking how you felt and if you had eaten. you lied to him, saying that you were just about to go for a nap, when you were most definitely not.
jungkook had just gotten into the taxi to get home, which meant he’d be back in around an hour, leaving you enough time to get ready for him. he had sounded so exhausted and frustrated over the phone, the poor thing. apparently he’d already eaten, you just hoped it was something light since you’d planned to be his dinner tonight.
you had just finished shaving your body head to toe - difficult with your bump, but not impossible. “sorry, baby.” you had whispered when you accidentally scratched your belly button too hard whilst putting lotion on. you weren’t going to half ass this, you were going to make sure jungkook had one of the best nights of his life.
earlier that day, the new lingerie set you’d ordered arrived - crimson, lacy, and with minimal coverage - jungkook’s favourite. you carefully slipped it on, the lace hugged your curves beautifully, highlighting your bump without feeling too uncomfortable. you also curled your hair and did your makeup, finishing the look by applying some sultry lipstick.
as you adjusted the set in the mirror, your gaze drifted to the clock. perfect, jungkook would be home soon - and you looked hot.
you’d planned to wait for him on the couch, but your impatience started to get the better of you. but who could blame you? you were 8 months pregnant, missing your husband, and your sex drive impeccably high.
around five more minutes had passed, and you soon found yourself reaching into the bottom drawer of your nightstand where you and jungkook kept a series of sex toys - dildos, kegel balls, restraints, whatnot - and took out the baby pink vibrator jungkook had bought you just a couple of weeks ago.
you’d used it continuously during his absence, and you were already so wet at the thought of him finally coming home that sound of the vibrator made you drip even further.
legs spreading, you moved your panties to one side and edged it closer to your aching folds. the cold air made you gasp, and the moment you pressed the vibrator against your clit - you became a moaning mess.
thoughts of your husband filled your mind - him putting together furniture in the nursery all shirtless and sweaty, the way the veins on his arm popped out when he flexed it just because he knew it turned you on. “ah. fuck.” your eyes rolled back as you pressed the vibrator harder against you, that sweet feeling already forming in your lower stomach.
in between your gasps and moans, you faintly heard the front door unlock. finally, jungkook was home - and what a sight he’d walk into. you didn’t turn the vibrator off, didn’t get up, you just waited for him to come and find you - pleasuring yourself to the thought of him.
jungkook was so happy to finally be home, to find you and hold you after what felt like forever. as he closed the door and put his suitcase to one side, he noticed that the lights were off and the living room empty. had you fallen asleep?
“baby?” jungkook called out, voice slightly hoarse from the wind outside - you didn’t respond. he slipped his shoes and jacket off, dropping his keys on the side dish, and started walking to your shared bedroom. if you were asleep, then he wanted nothing but to join you as soon as possible.
as he approached, he could hear soft muffled sounds. what were you doing? the bedroom door wasn’t fully closed, and when jungkook pushed it open, his mouth immediately went dry at the sight before him.
you, legs spread wide and shaking with your vibrator pressed against your core whilst your free hand played with your nipple erotically - luscious tits now spilling out of your sexy lingerie.
your head was tipped back against the headboard, eyes closed and biting your lip as the vibrator circled your dripping clit. “mm…baby, is that you?” your eyes stayed closed. “I missed you so much, kookie - ah..” you gasped as you turned the vibrator to a much stronger, harsher setting, pushing the tip of it inside you now.
jungkook was stunned. he was frozen, eyes wide, just stood there in the doorway watching you - cock already straining his pants - you’d never pulled anything like this before. christ, you looked pornographic right now, and he’d never been more turned on. the sounds of the vibrator pushing in and out of you were actually obscene.
he quickly found his voice again, though it was quiet and slightly shaky. “b-baby, what are you doing?” jungkook inched closer, now stepping fully into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. his gaze landed on your bump, so plump and full with his baby - the fact that you were pregnant made this even hotter.
you giggled, your eyes opening slightly to look at him. fuck - he looked so good - a mixture of confused, exhausted, and aroused - standing there in a white button up and black slacks, hair slightly messy. “i couldn’t wait anymore…had to take care of myself without you…” your breathing was starting to become laboured, it was clear you were nearing your release.
jungkook’s eyes darkened immediately, desire replacing the confusion. he couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to throw that vibrator across the room and pleasure you himself. he quickly lowered one knee onto the bed and dove in, taking the vibrator from your grasp and tossing it somewhere behind him, then quickly sliding your drenched panties off.
his mouth closed over your clit immediately, licking and sucking enthusiastically. “yes…fuck..” your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him further into you whilst you wrapped your legs around his head, effectively trapping him in between your legs so you could grind against him easier. jungkook loved it when you did that, especially when you were so wet like this - you tasted so sweet, he wanted to be buried in your pussy forever - even if it suffocated him.
his hands dug into your thighs - not hard enough to hurt - and pushed his skilled tongue inside you, quickening his pace just to hear you moan louder. “there…kookie, yes..!” his nose pressing against your clit sent you over the edge - eyes rolling to the back of your head as you began to see stars. “yes! oh!” you yelled. jungkook smiled against your pussy, his pace never wavering as his tongue lapped up all of your juices. he kept swirling his tongue and licking until your legs stopped shaking, loosening around his head.
jungkook pressed a sweet kiss to your clit before coming back up to look at you. his eyes finally met yours - your light hazel eyes glistened with contentment - his favourite sight ever. jungkook’s lips quickly found yours, the kiss was heated and your tongues immediately intertwined - now reunited after days apart. you could taste yourself on him, and you loved it.
your hands cradled his face as your lips continued moving, then jungkook reluctantly pulled back for some air, resting his forehead against yours. “i missed you so fucking much.” he murmured as his hands gently rubbed your belly - right where the baby had been kicking more lately. “baby ok?”
you nodded, still a little out of breath, your hands now at the nape of his neck - caressing his soft skin. “never better.” jungkook smiled and pressed one last kiss to the corner of your mouth, before looking down at your body, his finger hooking into the strap of your bra as he raised a brow. “new?”
you giggled and licked your lips. “yes. wanted to surprise you.”
jungkook hummed. “red. good choice.” he murmured before burying his face between your velvety tits - his hand started travelling back down, slipping between your folds which were already wet again - but your hand stopped him, wrapping around his wrist and pushing it away.
you shook your head and sat up, one hand on your belly as you got off the bed. “no more. I want to make you feel good.” you stated as you carefully kneeled on the floor in front of him and patted the mattress for him to sit on.
but jungkook frowned - cock still painfully hard. “baby, I can’t have you kneeling on the floor at 8 months pregnant.”
you rolled your eyes and patted the mattress again. “jungkook.” you licked your lightly swollen lips, and jungkook was halfway to going insane again, then you asked sweetly. “I want to suck your cock - please?”
yeah, jungkook was a goner. he couldn’t possibly say no to you when you sounded so fucking pretty and sinful. he did want to shove his cock so hard down your throat until you cried - the fact that you were pregnant and sensitive was the only thing stopping him. well, not anymore. you were being a brat tonight, and he had no choice but to put up with it.
“alright - fuck.” jungkook swiftly repositioned himself on the mattress so that your head was now between his legs. you started to massage his thighs through his pants, he undid his belt whilst you did that, tossing at across the room as you started to pull his pants down. once they were off, jungkook leaned back on his forearms and sighed, cherishing the feeling of you touching him after such an exhausting fucking day.
you started palming his huge cock through his boxers, thumb circling the tip - your mouth watered. “you’re so hard, kookie.”
jungkook groaned, one tattooed hand - the one with your initials on his knuckles - coming down to grab your hair as his hips buckled. “god…” his voice was low and quiet, you hadn’t even begun to blow him and he was already close to cumming.
after stroking his length some more, you finally pulled his boxers down - his massive cock springing out towards your face. it was so hard and thick - you’d missed the sight of it so much that it nearly brought you to tears, your wetness starting to drip onto the floor beneath you.
you licked your lips then leaned in, pressing a kiss to his tip and licking off the little bead of precum.
your tongue swirled around the tip - wet and slow - then you wrapped a hand around the base and started to stroke gently. jungkook muttered a series of tender curses as you continued to lick and tease his needy cock.
you pulled back and admired your work for a second - your saliva coated him all over now - his cock glistened in the low light. then you finally started to take him deeper, mouth stretching to accommodate his size, his breath hitched as your tongue serenaded his cock.
the feeling of his warm, salty, wet length on your tongue felt so heavenly, heat pooling low in your belly. jungkook’s delicate fingers tightened in your hair as you took him fully inch by inch, bobbing your head up and down just how he liked it. “fuckkk…baby, I love you so much.” his eyes were hazy as he watched you - tired but full of love. “you’re so beautiful like this, light of my fucking life…”
another deep moan escaped his lips, motivating you to take him further. your nose brushed his pelvis, tears beginning to pricking at your waterline from his thick length against your throat - but your motions didn’t waver. saliva started to form at the corners of your mouth, progressively dripping down your chin. you just hummed, one hand coming up to stroke the base of his balls with your thumb.
jungkook’s hips began to thrust - gentle at first. when you started to moan loudly, some tears falling down your cheeks, his thrusts got bolder - your eyes were so soft, so watery all because of him. jungkook’s eyes never left your face, he always loved to watch your mouth get fucked by him. “come on, princess….you’re so good, you can take it…” his voice was hoarse, and airy - strained by your mouth.
it was evident jungkook was starting to lose control - his thrusts got meaner and faster, the lewd sounds of you taking his cock making him even more eager. the bedroom was full of quiet gagging and slurping sounds from your lips, spit was dripping to the floor now - along with your wetness. you sucked him off with complete love and care, smiling when his thighs began to tremble.
jungkook’s thrusts continued to get even rougher - his cock now practically buried down your throat. his moans began to get relentless and needier - as did your own - you were so turned on that you were grinding onto the floor subconsciously, whining and whimpering into it. his free hand came to wipe a tear falling down your flushed cheeks, whilst the other tightened in your hair, guiding your head up and down faster. jungkook’s breathing was erratic as he desperately tried to hold on and murmured to you. “gonna cum, pretty….gonna fucking fill you. you gonna swallow it all up, yeah?”
you hummed and nodded eagerly, and jungkook moaned your name deeply as he finally let go - white, hot ropes of cum beginning to shoot down your throat. “y/n…you’re such a good girl for me…yes..” he whispered breathlessly as you swallowed it all up greedily, not daring to waste any. your own orgasm came crashing down on you - eyes tightly squeezing shut - moaning and whimpering against your husband’s cock as you continued to grind and leak shamelessly all over the floor.
you kept your mouth around him the whole time, taking every last drop until he was trembling and starting to get hard again. jungkook had let go of your hair, now stroking gently. you released him with a soft pop, your lips glistening and glossy - chin still dripping his release.
jungkook hadn’t even realised you had cum too - too overwhelmed by pleasure. his eyes darkened again as he took in your face and the floor beneath you. “get on this bed now.” his voice was low and commanding, still hoarse from before - it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. he didn’t have to tell you twice, anticipation brewed in your lower stomach again as you quickly got up off the floor (as fast as a pregnant woman could), and got on the bed.
jungkook’s strong hands immediately found your forearms to steady you, you were still completely bare apart from that lacy bra and the evidence of your earlier orgasm still dripping down your legs. he shook his head and tutted whilst rubbing your belly, you gave him a confused look “hm?” - then his hand drifted down to your pussy, spreading your folds and dragging his ring finger over your swollen clit. “baby, you had to fuck the floor because of me - we gotta fix that.” his tone was apologetic yet teasing, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you.
jungkook smiled, gently rubbing your clit now - you were already so wet again (thanks to pregnancy), it was all he ever wanted to see and feel. he crashed his mouth onto yours again, gently sucking on your bottom lip, then he pushed his tongue into your mouth. he could taste himself on your tongue, but jungkook didn’t mind - if anything, it turned him on more. you had blowed him so fucking good he was sure his dick was going to snap in half.
you whimpered again when jungkook pulled away, his hand still working between your legs. you wanted him so badly - right now, completely inside of you.
your hands came up to his chest- still covered by that useless shirt - and lightly pushed him back against the headboard, he raised a brow. “want to ride you, kookie…” you sounded like an angel, grinding your hips against his.
jungkook’s breath hitched, he didn’t want to wait anymore either.
much to your delight, his shirt came off in seconds, revealing those delicious muscles. your hands immediately latched onto his biceps, just squeezing and feeling them. jungkook was so fucking big now compared to a couple of months ago, and you loved it. he had been going to the gym for some time, forever going on about how he wanted to be fit and healthy for you and the baby, but holy fuck - this was on another level.
jungkook let you explore for a minute, just sitting there quietly rubbing your inner whilst you basically drooled over his body - until he started getting impatient.
his hands moved up to your hips and lifted you onto his lap, looking straight into your eyes. then he leaned down to kiss the sensitive spot under your ear, nuzzling the tip of his nose against it. “thought you said you something about riding me, hm?” he whispered. you bit your lip, heat pooling low in your stomach.
a whimper escaped you as you nodded at his words. jungkook just hummed, rubbing the tip of his cock against your drenched folds - smearing your arousal all over it. you moaned instantly, your head dropping against his shoulder. jungkook pulled you closer so that your bump could rest comfortably in between you two, then he began to push the tip in.
low curses escaped you both as his thick cock started to stretch your walls - warmth filling you quickly. jungkook buried his head in your neck as you fully sat down on his length, pressing soft kisses everywhere he could. he let you get comfortable first, then started to slowly thrust his hips upwards. “oh…” you murmured at his slow motions, hands gripping his biceps again.
you started to move up and down - jungkook was not ready for that. “fuck, baby-“ his hands flew back to your hips, helping you move yourself up and down.
the pace was still slow, just how you two liked it - not short and sweet, but long and loving. jungkook’s lips kissed down your neck, collarbone, to the column between your tits. one of his hands started to massage one gently through your bra. he was so mesmerised - pregnancy had changed your body significantly, and jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way. you looked so full now, full with his baby, full of love - he wanted you pregnant always.
“so pretty for me, baby…” he murmured as his hands continued to play with your tits. his breath hitched when you reached back and unclasped the bra, tits spilling free.
you started getting bolder, quickening your pace, using him to fuck yourself. jungkook didn’t mind at all - he wanted you to take all the pleasure you could get. the image of you bouncing on his cock was always his favourite.
“ah! yes!” you moaned as his cock went deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you again and again. jungkook’s mouth then closed over your nipple, licking and biting gently. you whimpered at his actions, nails digging into his back as he started to move his hips faster up to yours.
jungkook kept sucking on your nipple, and that’s when he felt it - a warm, sweet liquid - your milk. he let out a low, loud moan as it continued to come out, it turned him on so much. your milk tasted so fucking good, jungkook lapped it all up without missing a drop - he was almost jealous of your unborn baby for getting this milk.
jungkook could tell you were reaching your peak now - your back was arched, your nails were scratching and digging into his back, and the sounds coming out of your mouth as you bounced up and down on his cock were nothing but obscene - he couldn’t torture you any longer, his own release was building in his lower stomach.
“I know, beautiful, I know.” he murmured, groaning as your lips met again. his hand travelled back down, finding your clit and beginning to rub firm circles over it. “let me help you. let go, baby..” you moaned into his mouth at his words “yes! jungkook!” and finally let go, your cum and squirt coating his cock all over.
jungkook came with a guttural moan as soon as your walls clenched around him. your name left his lips continuously as he continued to thrust into you - fucking you gently through your high - until they began to get sloppy. “good girl.” he praised when you were finished.
he stayed buried inside you for a bit, head resting against your shoulder until he pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. jungkook then brushed some hair out of your face and moved so that you two were lying side by side, still not pulling out.
he adjusted the covers over you then pulled you closer - one arm draped over your waist and bump whilst the other gently stroked your hair. jungkook could tell you were exhausted by now, your quietness the main hint. he murmured an ‘I love you’ to both you and the baby before adjusting the pillows again. you hummed, only registering the press of warm lips against your forehead before dreams finally pulled you under.
You're ovulating, and your body knows it. Every look, every touch, every shirtless yawn from your husband Jungkook feels like it's personally designed to torture you. The problem? You're still way too shy to actually ask for what you want—even after two years of being married to the man. So you do what any reasonable woman on the brink of hormone-induced meltdown would do: Google how to seduce your husband without saying a word. Soft moans, sexy shirts, bending over.
Your body wants him. Desperately. Which would be fine… if your mouth could form a single dirty sentence without dissolving into embarrassment.
Unfortunately, the moment your brain thinks, “I want Jungkook to bend me over this kitchen counter,” your lips go: “...Do you want more eggs?”
Because apparently, you are the human embodiment of sexual repression wrapped in a housewife cardigan. It doesn’t help that Jungkook is walking around this morning like temptation incarnate—hair fluffy and damp, shirt riding up to expose toned abs as he stretches for the top shelf. You stare, biting your lip.
And then he turns. And catches you. You quickly look away, pretending to clean an already spotless counter. Jungkook chuckles. “Why’re you scrubbing that spot like it owes you money?” “N-No reason,” you mumble, cheeks on fire.
He strolls over, brushing your hair behind your ear like he always does—soft, loving, casual.
Your knees almost buckle.
God, you need him. But how do you say that?
“Hey, Jungkook… I’m ovulating and my vagina wants to be rearranged like IKEA furniture.”
NO.
You die just thinking it.
So instead, you sit back down at the table while he scrolls through his phone, and you—like the absolute coward you are—open a new tab and type: “How to seduce your husband without saying it out loud.”
Google, your ever-loyal sidekick, does not disappoint. Wear something sexy but casual, like his oversized shirt with nothing underneath. Initiate physical contact—light touches, lingering hugs, playful smiles. Moan softly when you stretch. Drop something and bend over. Make suggestive eye contact.
You read every suggestion like it’s a sacred text. This is it. This is your mission.
Operation: Turn Him On Until He Makes The First Move. You can do this. You’ve seen porn. You’ve read fanfics. You’re a married woman, damn it. You’re—
“Why are you glaring at your phone like that?” Jungkook asks. You startle. “No reason! Just… taxes.”
“…Sexy."
Attempt-1
You wait until after his gym session, when he’s showered and sprawled on the couch, lazily playing a game on his phone. You walk in casually. In his oversized shirt. Bra discarded. No shorts. Just legs and nerve. His eyes lift.
They scan you slowly, pausing at your thighs, lingering at the hint of your nipples through the fabric. This is it.
Then—
“Are you cold?” he asks, brows furrowed. “You’re nipping.” You want to scream.
Attempt-2
You’re cooking dinner. He’s next to you, slicing cucumbers. You “accidentally” drop a spoon. You bend slowly. You feel his gaze.
And then—
He says, “Didn’t I tell you to be careful? You always drop stuff when you're tired.” You stand up, crushed. He adds, “Let me get it.” He picks up the spoon. And boops your nose with it.
Attempt-3
You stretch in the living room. You add a soft, breathy, “Ahh…” He looks up. You hold your breath. He smiles. “You okay?” You nod innocently.
“You sound like you pulled something. Want me to massage your back?”
You blink. That was… not bad? You nod again, praying he’ll catch the scent of your shampoo, the flush on your cheeks, the desperation leaking out of your pores.
He rubs your back. Platonically. Like a kind neighborhood uncle.
You die again.
It’s bedtime. You lie curled beside him in bed, knees tucked up, pretending to scroll your phone while your hormones riot like drunk cheerleaders.
You can smell him. Clean and warm. That stupid faint hint of cologne he wears just to sleep. His damp hair tickles your shoulder where it fans out. He’s relaxed, spread out like he owns the bed—because he does.
And you? You are vibrating with frustration. How is he not climbing on top of you already? How does he not feel how badly you want him? Has he not noticed how flustered you’ve been for the past three days?!
You try one more tactic. You inch closer. Press your thighs together just so. Let your hand rest slightly on his chest. He looks down at you, smiling softly. “Wanna cuddle?”
You nod. Wordless. Wanting. Hoping.
He pulls you into his chest, arms strong around you, one hand gently rubbing your back. His voice is a sleepy mumble. “You smell really nice tonight.” Your heart jumps. “You always do,” he adds, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. “Love when you wear my shirts to bed.”
You swallow. Now. Say it now. But your mouth fails you again.
“Jungkook?” you whisper, face half-buried in his neck.
“Mm?”
“I… I wanna…”
He hums. Encouraging.
You take a deep breath. Do it.
“I wanna…”
“…what, baby?” he whispers, thumb stroking your arm. “You can tell me anything.”
You hide your face deeper, almost suffocating in the blanket.
“I wanna have sex,” you blurt out, voice barely a squeak.
Silence. You think he didn’t hear. But then—you feel his body freeze.
Then melt. And then—*
He pulls back just enough to see your face, eyes wide with gentle surprise. “Baby,” he says softly, brushing your hair back. “You’ve been walking around all shy and flushed for days. I thought maybe you had a fever or something.” You let out a miserable sound. “I didn’t know how to ask…”
He chuckles, kissing your forehead again. “You don’t ever have to be scared to tell me that, angel.” Then, his voice drops, deep and low. “If you want me, all you ever have to do is say it.” Your breath stutters.
“I want you,” you whisper.
His lips curl into a smirk. “Then let me show you how much I’ve been waiting for that.”
The teasing, clueless husband you’ve spent the last week trying to seduce is gone. Replaced with the Jungkook who knows exactly how to handle you — every soft touch, every need you’re too shy to name.
“Say it again,” he whispers between kisses, voice husky against your lips. Your cheeks flame, but you nod. “I want you.”
“That’s all I ever need, baby.” He leans back to admire you, propped against the pillows in his shirt and those tiny shorts that have been torturing him all week. His eyes are darker now. Heavy. Focused. And you feel your breath hitch when he says, “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”
He lifts the hem of your shirt slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “You’ve been walking around like this, with those sweet little thighs out, no bra, hugging me for no reason, brushing your chest against me like that’s not the meanest thing you could’ve done to a man trying to be respectful.”
You giggle, face hot. “I didn’t mean to—” “You did,” he corrects with a smirk, tossing the shirt aside. “And it worked.”
He kisses your collarbone, then lower — down your chest, pausing when he feels how fast your heart is racing.
“You’re so shy,” he murmurs. “So sweet. But you want me so badly, don’t you?” You nod again, lips parted, chest rising and falling in soft, impatient gasps. “Use your words, angel. Just one more time. Tell me what you want.”
You whimper. “I want you to touch me.” He grins, satisfied. “That’s my good girl.”
His hands travel down to your shorts, tugging them slowly, watching your eyes flutter as the cool air hits your thighs. “You’re already wet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your center through your underwear. “So needy.”
You hide your face in your hands. He gently pulls them away. “Let me see you. Let me love you properly.” And he does.
He takes his time with you — kissing your thighs, licking soft trails along the edges of your underwear until you're trembling. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t tease too hard. He just… worships. He slides your panties down and kisses the inside of your thighs again, lips dangerously close. You whimper his name.
“Jungkook, please.”
He looks up, eyes gleaming. “Please what?”
Your voice shakes. “Please… touch me there.”
And with that, he finally does. His mouth closes over your clit, slow and warm. He hums softly, and the vibration makes you gasp. His hands hold your hips down gently while he licks and kisses you like he’s starved for you — like he’s been waiting a lifetime. You writhe under him, hands grasping the sheets, mewling out soft gasps of “Koo, please—”
He doesn’t stop until you come undone beneath him, thighs shaking, voice cracking on his name. Only then does he crawl back up, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your lips.
“You’re so pretty when you beg,” he murmurs.
You’re breathless. Glowing. Still dazed. And then you feel him press against you — hard, thick, straining inside his boxers. You whimper again, reaching for him.
“You sure?” he whispers, breath hot against your ear.
You nod quickly, legs wrapping around his waist. “Please, Jungkook.” He slides in slowly, groaning into your neck. You arch, clinging to him as he fills you completely.
“Fuck,” he pants. “You feel like heaven.”
You gasp, eyes fluttering shut, hips moving instinctively. And then there’s nothing but skin and heat and the sound of soft moans and kisses — slow, deep strokes as he presses sweet nothings into your skin:
“Missed you.”
“You’re mine.”
“So fucking tight, baby.”
You come again, crying out his name, and he follows soon after, biting back a groan as he buries himself deep inside you. Afterward, he doesn’t move. Just holds you. Breathes you in.
“Next time,” he murmurs, brushing sweat-damp hair off your forehead, “just tell me sooner.” You laugh weakly. “I tried.”
He kisses your temple. “You did good, baby. But next time, don’t google it, okay?”
“Fine,” you whisper. “Next time I’ll just climb you.” Jungkook grins. “Deal.”You thought last night would satisfy you. It did. Kind of. For a few hours.
But then morning came, and with it, Jungkook’s bare chest. His messy hair. The sleepy rasp in his voice when he asked, “Want coffee, baby?”
And your body betrayed you again. Now you’re back in square one: needy, blushing, legs clenched under the kitchen table as your husband hums to himself in pajama pants, making you both breakfast like he didn’t absolutely wreck you twelve hours ago.
You bite your lip, trying to focus on your phone. Maybe the urge will pass.
It does not. Instead, you find yourself googling, again: “How to seduce your husband subtly (again). You slam your phone face down.
Jungkook places a plate in front of you and leans down to kiss your cheek. “You okay, angel?”
You nod too fast. “Mhm! Yep. Great.”
His brow lifts. He walks away. Then glances back at you.
You’re staring at his butt.
Caught.
“Something on your mind?” he asks, smirking slightly. “Nope!”
“Your face says otherwise.” You stare at your eggs like they’ve personally offended you.
He strolls over, squats beside your chair, and tilts his head. “Wanna tell me why you’ve been blushing all morning and squeezing your thighs together every ten seconds?”
You cover your face. “Oh my god.” He laughs. “Is this déjà vu?”
“…No.”
He kisses your shoulder. “You can just say it, baby."
You mumble through your hands. “I want you again.”
He grins against your skin. “Good. Finish your eggs. Then I’ll take you back to bed and make you forget how to walk.”
You squeak. “Jungkook!” “What?” he says, biting into toast like it’s any normal day. “You married a man with stamina. This is what you signed up for.”
a/n: this is my first jk fic SO BE NICE M’KAY? . . . now pls enjoy
synopsis: out of impulse, jungkook gets his tongue pierced, but totally forgot the part that for the next two weeks he’s not allowed to kiss his adorable, oh so desirable gf.
wc: 15.8k (mind you this was supposed to be 5k at the MOST . . .)
cw include: black fem!reader was in mind when written but picture her anyway you’d like <3, literally porn with a smidge of plot, unprotected sex, needy!reader, even needier!jungkook, lots of nasty kisses, tongue sucking, creampie, squirting, choking, oral both receiving, some biting, so much dirty talk omg, jungkook is a major perv, he uses her panties to masturbate and does . . . other things with them, he eats it through her panties, slow & rough sex, prone bone position, riding, sex in front of a mirror, backshots, spit, body worship, jungkook is so in love . . . whew i think that’s it—oh wait, he eats in while they shower together!
“are you nervous, honey?”
“mmhm?”
the corner your lips lifted into a giggle, gold bracelets on your wrists jangling as you reached over to squeeze your spaced out boyfriends firm bicep. this caught his attention, his doe-like, brown eyes flicking over to meet yours.
“ah, sorry. my mind was elsewhere. what did you say, baby?” jungkook grinned, leaning over until his shoulder was bumping into yours. you wanted to ask him what had his mind so preoccupied, but knowing jungkook, he’d most likely already forgotten.
you let out a low hum, slyly maneuvering your fingers into his lap to interlock with his. “i asked if you were nervous. s’probably gonna hurt getting your tongue pierced.”
jungkook shrugged, “mm . . . not really. if i can handle getting my lip—or even my eyebrow pierced, i think i can handle this. pain will only last a couple days anyway, yeah?”
you were about to answer, but suddenly a voice to your left caught both of your attention.
a bulky man covered in tattoos, and multiple facial piercings approached the two of you, a friendly smile on his face. “which one of you is here for a tongue piercing?”
jungkook gripped your hand softly and stood, bringing you up with him. “that would be me, she’s just here for support,” he gave your hand a tender squeeze, not bothered by the pda he was showing you in the slightest.
that was one of the things you loved about jungkook.
he was never afraid to show his affection for you no matter who happened to be in the room. friends, colleagues, strangers—it didn’t matter who it was. jungkook was still gonna kiss, touch, and hold you to his hearts content. and who were you to even complain about such a thing?
so he held your hand the entire time.
he held your hand while the piercer perfected the placement, while he rinsed his mouth out with a minty mouthwash, and once the needle finally went through his tongue, he held on even tighter.
he preened at your praise, his heart rate increasing tenfold when you whispered a sweet, ‘you’re doing so good, babe!’
jungkook winced as the piercer screwed in the tiny, silver balls on the bar, but you just squeezed his hand in reassurance. before he knew it, he was finished.
“how do you like it? placement okay and everything?” the man had asked, and with three slow blinks, jungkook nodded. the feeling of it in his mouth was foreign, but that was to be expected, and as for the way it looked? he loved it.
“s’great. thank you, thank you so much!”
you watched in complete adoration as your boyfriend admired his fresh piercing in the handheld mirror he was given. those big, brown boba eyes of his were so wide in awe you were sure they’d pop out if his skull. he was too cute.
“here, rinse your mouth with this again,” the piercer instructed jungkook, handing him another small cup of mouthwash. as jungkook swished the liquid in his mouth the man went over a few, simple instructions on how to properly care for the piercing.
“i would recommend soft foods the next couple of days, nothing too spicy or else it’ll get irritated, and this’ll probably be the hardest rule to follow but absolutely no kissing. swapping spit with someone, even your girlfriend, is the quickest way for it to get infected and reject, but other than that you should be good, man.”
jungkooks lips parted then shut. fuck.
the thought of not being able to kiss you whenever and wherever he wanted hadn’t crossed his mind. not even once. fuck. fuck. fuck.
“how—um, h-how long am i gonna have to do all that for?” and as soon as the words ‘ten to fifteen days’ left the piercers mouth, you could see jungkooks shoulders visibly deflate.
how will he ever go over a week without kissing your soft, pretty lips? your cherry gloss was like heroine to him. he loved swiping it off with his tongue, and letting the subtle cherry taste coat his tastebuds. and not to boast, but jungkook was the biggest munch he knew! how on gods green earth is supposed to go a whole fifteen days without tasting your cu—!
“hey, you alright? feeling lightheaded?”
jungkook blinked rapidly, and with a low hum he shook his head no.
“don’t know how i’m gonna go so long without kissing her . . . or eating spicy foods,” he chuckled, throwing his his back so dramatically you didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff.
“please excuse him. now pay this poor man so we can go get you some ice chips for your tongue,” you smirked, linking your arm around his muscular one. he glanced down at you, and fuck. he already wanted to give you a smooch.
you looked so cute in your pink, oversized sweater and miniskirt. not to mention you were trying out a new blush and lip combo that just made you look so sweet, he could’ve ruined you right then and there.
“why don’t you go hangout over there while i pay him, hm? maybe one of those pieces you see will inspire your next tattoo” he spoke lowly in your ear, giving your side a soft squeeze before sending you on your way.
as jungkook talked to the man about his form of payment, you stood to the side, wrapped up in your own little world. you nibbled on your bottom lip, manicured fingers playing with the hem of your skirt as you thought about how much of a pain in the ass jungkook will be for the next two weeks.
your sweet bunny of a boyfriend required physical touch on a daily basis, so to take out such a key part of it left both of you feeling less than thrilled. at least you had a tad of self control, jungkook on the other hand . . . need i say more?
he was the most impulsive person you’ve ever met, not to mention the neediest boy in the fucking world. underneath the leather jackets, tattoos, and piercings—jungkook was as soft as the strawberry crème cakes you made him on a daily when it came to you.
a hand squeezing your hip broke you out of your thoughts, “you ready to go, sugar?”
when you nodded, jungkook laced his tatted fingers with yours, bidding everyone in the shop a farewell before leading you out the exit and to his car.
it was a beautiful day out; a cool seventy eight degrees and the sun shone brightly above you. a perfect day for running errands and a late lunch!!
a little squeal slipped past your lips when jungkook lightly pushed you against the side of his car, his front pushing ever so softly against yours. “so what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day, hm?” he spoke softly, encasing your hips in his large hands.
you placed your hands on his hard stomach, blindly tracing the ridges of his abs over his shirt. he was so manly . . so masculine . . . and so all yours.
“well . . .” your voice trailed off, head innocently cocking to the side, “i wanna go to t.j. maxx, and get that hello kitty vanity chair. i also wanna head to that herb store and get more raspberry leaf—if i run out before my period comes i’m a goner!”
jungkook’s smile only faltered slightly at the mention of your awful period cramps. sometimes during that time of the month for you, he’d find you in your shared bathroom, head tucked between your knees as your body racked with sobs. he never minds it truly, but it shatters his heart every time he kisses those little tears streaming down your puffy cheeks away.
he tenderly rubbed your lower belly, forehead knocking against your gently as he nodded. “mm, don’t worry. we’ll get your herbs n’ your chair. maybe something to eat too?”
he was absolutely speaking your language.
“yes, that sounds perfect,” you grinned, scratching lightly at the hairs on the nape of his neck. jungkook practically purred at the contact, damn near forgetting you were out in the open. not that he really cared.
he wanted to swoop in for a kiss. just a tiny, little kiss. but the moment his head ducked down, his lips were met with the smooth skin of your palm.
he frowned, a noise of disapproval rumbling in his chest that was soon hushed by little kisses on his jaw. the feeling of your lips running over his hot skin had him shivering, brain nearly short circuiting.
you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, “m’sorry for doin’ that, but you heard that man in there! no kisses for kookie for at least ten days.”
jungkook wanted to just collapse to his knees, and cry, and be as dramatic as possible—but chairs nodded to be bought, and herbs needed to be collected so he’d have to save the dramatics for another time.
he let out a small puff of air from his cheeks, his tongue already starting to sting from swelling, “you’re right. you’re always right, my smart girl.” he squeezed your sides gently, and nudged his nose against yours, “let’s go get that chair.”
after a short trip, and lots of lingering touches later, your chair and raspberry leaf were secured, and so was your hunger. on the way back home jungkook had made a surprise stop at your favorite taco spot—a small truck ran by two older women who absolutely adored the two of you.
the way home was pretty quiet. while you bashed on your three carne asada tacos with extra lime and salsa, jungkook casually sipped on a small horchata, the cool liquid bringing some relief to his sore tongue.
“it’ll always shock me how you make no mess,” he chuckled, putting his car in park. you dabbed the corners of your lips with a napkin, and did a quick check in the mirror to make sure no cilantro was in your teeth before giving him a small smile. “only because i know i’ll get an earful from you if i do.”
and right you were!! jungkooks mercedes amg was his pride and joy (right after you).
“need me to carry anything, honey?” you hummed, watching as jungkook balanced your bags and the small box containing the parts to your new vanity chair in his arms. he, of course, shook his head no, and instead gave you the job of unlocking the door.
before you even set your purse down, jungkook was already kicking his shoes off and ripping at the box, an obnoxious tearing sound echoing throughout your apartment. building furniture was a random favorite hobby of his, and he always looked damn good doing it.
“lemme get these outside clothes off,” you muttered, using your socks as little skates to slide into your shared room, little giggles slipping past your lips as you did so.
“you’re going to bust your behind one of these days if you keep doing that. hardwood floors hurt y’know!” jungkook called out to you, his boyfriend voice turned all the way on.
“yeah, yeah, whatever. are you gonna need your tools?” you called back, slipping off your skirt and sweater. your bra was the next thing to go, and after little to no thought, you settled on wearing one of jungkooks t-shirts.
the fabric smelt just like him. a citrusy, vanilla scent that made you sleepy every time you smelt it for too long. it also made your cunt feel tingly, but due to certain circumstances, you decided to keep your horniness at bay for jungkooks sake.
you’d be lying if the urge to kiss him hasn’t hit you once or twice, but who could blame you? your boyfriend had the most kissable lips ever, and the two lip rings that adorned the left side made you want them against yours even more!
but unfortunately it’d have to wait.
you brought the collar of his shirt to your nose one last time, inhaling deeply before getting on your knees and shimmying over to jungkooks side of the bed. now he did say which tools he needed, but you weren’t exactly a handy woman, so you just decided to bring his entire tool box.
when he heard the obnoxious sound of metal clanking together his eyes darted to the direction of the sound. his lips broke into a smirk when he saw you carrying his entire toolbox. you were so precious without even having to try.
you wearing little to nothing around your place wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. in fact, you did it so much that jungkook almost found it odd whenever he would come home from work and see you still fully clothed.
yes, you prancing around in just your panties and a top all the time was pretty distracting, but it was the best distraction a man could ever ask for. you have the prettiest, phattest pussy he’s ever seen, and she looks even more enticing hidden behind the soft cotton of your panties.
with a small grunt you set the metal box down, “here ya go.”
when your hands found purchase on your hips, your his shirt rose up, giving him a nice, close up view of your panty clad cunt. the pair you had on today were hot pink, with ‘juicy’ written in black cursive right on the part where your mound was.
‘i’ll fuckin’ say’ he thought to himself, teeth tugging on his lip ring to surpress the urge to pull you closer to him. it didn’t help. like at all, because three seconds later jungkook was pulling you two steps closer by the backs of your thighs.
your nose scrunched up, a giggling bubbling in your chest. “you know . . . you could at least try to be a little more discreet with your staring.”
jungkook groaned at your words, nosing at the inside of your petal soft thigh. “nothing fun about being discreet, babe,” he sighed giving your thigh a light peck.
you were out of his grasp a millisecond later, your head cocking back and forth. “watch those lips mister!”
“it was just a peck, it won’t do any harm, babe!” he pleaded, pulling you closer. his ring clad fingers held rather tightly onto your flesh, preventing you from moving an inch.
“mm, sure, but a peck with you always leads to something more,” you spoke softly, ruffling his jet black locs.
a drag of air got caught in your throat when his nose nudged against your cunt. “h-hey, that’s enough, mister! get back to work before i thump you.”
and with that, jungkook released his hold on your body. his fingers lingered for a second or two before letting go completely, his lips jutting into his signature pout.
“mean . . . very mean,” he muttered, turning his back to you to give your unbuilt chair his undivided attention. he knew he was being unfair, but shit, this entire thing this was unfair!!
it was dumb to say aloud, but truly, the thought of not being able to kiss you or any part of you didn’t cross his mind in the thought process for getting his tongue pierced—not even once! it was a cruel, sick, joke that was one hundred percent preventable, and now you both had to deal with it :(
you let out a little puff of air from your cheeks, and knelt behind your pouting boyfriend. “you say mean . . . i say responsible,” you whispered in his ear, kissing the shell of it before placing another soft kiss on his neck.
“don’t be sad, ‘kay? it’ll go by before you know it.” you knew your man, and you knew him well. you knew if he was challenged to do something, he’d do it and he’d do it well.
he whined at your words, thick brows scrunching together, “it can’t go by fast enoughhhh.”
seven hours later . . . .
jungkook felt as if he was going to combust into a million pieces. the urge to have his lips on yours didn’t curve in the slightest, and to make things even more difficult, he was now sporting a painful boner.
you were sound asleep on his chest, little snores leaving your slightly parted lips every so often. you were still wearing what you had on earlier, the only difference being a lavender colored, silk scarf wrapped securely around your head.
‘hells paradise’ played quietly on the tv, and the ac was on full blast giving jungkook the perfect background noise to fall asleep to. but he couldn’t. his mind was racing.
his legs felt stiff, begging to be stretched, but he knew if he moved even a muscle, you’d stir in your sleep and switch positions. when he held you like this he could feel the heat from your pussy right against his thigh, and as sick it sounded it made him feel so at ease.
with the way his tongue throbbed in pain, jungkook could use all the comfort he could get.
he slowly craned his neck to look down at your sleeping form, and fuck. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. even when you were deep in sleep.
the semi-bright glow from the tv gave him just enough light to see that your eyes were moving every so often. he wondered to himself what you could possibly be dreaming about. selfishly enough, he hoped it was him.
“aish . . .” he muttered, shifting his leg the tiniest bit. you made a small noise in your sleep, and this had jungkook freezing in his spot. his heart pounded against his ribcage as you nuzzled closer into his side. and then you moved again . . . and again . . . and again, until jungkook was questioning if you were really asleep or not.
the dull throb against his thigh had his pierced brow twitching.
should he wake you? should he leave you be? should he just cut his losses and jerk off in the bathroom?
a gentle squeeze pulled jungkook out of his thoughts, and when he looked down, he was met with the sight of his sleepy girlfriends’ scrunched up face.
“mm, kook . .”
your voice was whiny, and laced with sleep. if only he was able to kiss away that tiny furrow between your brows.
“what’s up, baby?” he spoke softly, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. you breathed out a small hum when he cupped your ass, gentle fingers gripping the soft flesh.
goosebumps rose on the dark haired mans skin when you nuzzled your face in his neck. your lips brushed against the sensitive spot below his ear, “can’t fall back asleep . . . need your help, please.”
and there it was.
jungkooks hands shook as they ran up and down your body, squeezing and fondling any part of you that he could. “y-yeah? what do you need me to do for you, baby—i know you’re sleepy, but try to use your words for me.”
he heard a small sniffle and then, “fuck me back t’sleep, kook. pleaseee.” your hand lazily rubbed along the length of his covered cock, saliva pooling on your tongue at the thought of having him inside you.
without a second thought, jungkook maneuvered your body on top of his with ease. his dick was pressed snugly against your pussy—hot, hard, and ready to put you tf back to sleep!
jungkook’s breath fanned over your face, still minty from when he brushed his teeth. “really wish i could kiss you right now,” he grunted, lifting your body up just enough to pull his briefs down.
“i-i wish you could kiss me too,” you whined, back arching when he rubbed his leaking tip over your panties.
he didn’t take your panties off, instead he just pulled them to the side with two fingers, and slipped his cock right between your soaked folds. wet was an understatement—you were drenched. small pearls of your essence began to drip down his cock, already creating a mess between your bodies.
“ngh—put it in please,” you sniffled, bottom half slowly moving up and down the length of his dick. jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tatted hand gripping the base of his cock before slowly pushing the tip through that tight ring of muscle that greeted him so sweetly every time.
his free hand cupped the back of your neck, smushing your forehead against his. “so wet, princess. slipped right in like you were made for me,” he groaned, planting his feet in the bed to push more of his cock into your tight heat.
with a sloppy kiss to the corner of his lips you whispered, “because i was.” this nearly killed jungkook of course, his hips stuttering the tiniest bit.
he throbbed all around you. every protruding vein caressed your sensitive walls, and it didn’t make things better when his spongy tip started knocking obnoxiously against that spot deep inside you that had your toes curling.
you mewled at the stretch, grabbing onto his shoulders as you found your place in his neck once again. every moan, whine, every hitch of your breath—he heard it all, and it was driving him fucking nuts.
he wanted to talk you through it, whisper dirty praises and promises in your ear, but alas his tongue was just too fucking sore. he knew you liked him to be vocal, so he settled with matching your volume in moans.
jungkook’s hands roamed all along the expanse of your back. your skin was hot to the touch, his cold hands bringing you some sweet relief.
you wanted to melt into him. let your minds and bodies become one forever, but for now this would have to do.
“lemme take this off,” you muttered, sitting up to remove his shirt from your trembling from. the new angle had his cock hitting deeper, and this had you tightening up, forcing a hiss from the man below you.
he wasted no time fondling your breasts, a whine bubbling in his throat from lack of them in his mouth. you always made the prettiest noises when he sucked on your nipples. they were always so sensitive—even as he softly ran his thumbs over them.
“k-kook—”
“i know—shit, i know.” his voice was raspy from lack of speaking. his throat felt so dry, like someone had stuffed cotton down it. jungkook had a thirst, but not for a beverage of any kind.
as you began a steady rhythm moving back and forth, jungkook thumbed at your swollen clit. his jaw clenched, a groan rumbling in his chest at how wet you actually were.
sucking your clit into his mouth would definitely fix him right now—why, oh why did he have to get this stupid fucking piercing.
your hips stuttered slightly when he pulled his thumb away, and without a second thought he brought the digit to your lips. it wasn’t hard to find his eyes in the darkness of the room, and once you did you sucked the digit between your lips, humming at the sweet, yet tart taste that coated your tongue.
all your nerve endings felt as if they have been set ablaze. you could feel everything. you didn’t know what it was, but these intimate moments with jungkook always made you so beside yourself.
“what’s it taste like, hm? describe it for me,” he rasped out, pressing down lightly on your tongue before removing his thumb entirely.
your movements halted, but not for long, because jungkook’s hands were on your hips seconds later, resuming your slow paced grinding. “don’t make me say it, babe,” you whimpered, feeling your cheeks get hotter than they already were.
he couldn’t help but chuckle. you were still so bashful—even when getting split open by his thick cock.
it was silent for a few beats, and then without warning, jungkook cupped the back of your neck and pulled you back down to his level. his feet planted into the bed, and with that he began a slow, steady rhythm of thrusts.
“was is it sweet? i bet it was, you’re always so fuckin’—ngh, sweet,” he panted against your lips, making you whine veryyyy loudly.
your cunt started to became rather noisy, an obscene squelching sound becoming louder and louder as the minutes went by. but it wasn’t quite loud enough for your boyfriend.
your once warm body was suddenly met with a chill, goosebumps rising over the entire expense of your back. jungkook had also taken this as an opportunity to go faster—harder. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed noisily throughout the room.
“love that sound,” he grunted, tucking your face in the warmth of his neck to shush your whines. between being overly drowsy, and jungkook fucking you like his own personal toy, your brain had turned into a complete pile of mush.
not a sentence, nor thought could be formed in your head. the only thing you could even think to do was kiss him—well kiss his neck specifically since his lips were off limits.
your lips latched onto the spot below his ear, sucking feverishly until he was squeezing the back of your neck in sensitivity.
“y-yeah, mhmm. keep kissing me. i need it,” he whispered the last part directly in your ear while also delivering a particularly harsh thrust. you made a noise between a sob and a gasp, and for a second you could’ve sworn you saw white.
both of his hands gripped your ass cheeks, spreading them only slightly so he was able to fuck you deeper.
a never ending chorus of ‘ah ah ah’s left your drooly lips, and soon, it wasn’t long before you were whining in jungkook’s ear about how you were about to cum.
you lifted your head slightly, “i’m *pant* i-i’m—!”
jungkook shoved your face back in his neck, the pace of his thrusts increasing to a speed so fast it had you seeing spots.
“i know, baby. i know. fucking do it.”
your ears started to ring, and your back arched, a beautiful symphony of moans following seconds later. jungkook fucked you through it all with one hand still securely on the back of your neck, and the other now grabbing onto your hip so roughly you were sure to feel it in the morning.
his toes curled when he felt you gush around him. your pussy was practically suffocating his cock, convulsing around him so harshly it was almost difficult to continue moving.
you heard a few curses in korean, follow by one more hard thrust before a sudden warmth flooded your lower belly. jungkook ground into you from below, milking his orgasm for all it was worth—which was a lot.
without even thinking he pressed a quick peck to your shoulder, his lips lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.
“ . . . you okay? was i good?” he whispered into your ear, but the only response he was met with was a small snore. your body was completely limp, occasionally twitching in his arms.
jungkook hummed contently, nosing at your cheek. his hands ran slowly up and down your back, tracing random hearts and shapes as he did so.
he was gonna have to wake you up soon so you could pee, but for now that would wait. he just wanted to bask in this moment for as long as he could.
it’s been nine days since then, and you two have been fucking like rabbits everrrr since.
morning, afternoon, midday, the middle of the night—it didn’t matter what time it was. if jungkook was in the mood, he had to have you.
the urge to kiss you hasn’t lessened. in fact it only grew stronger and more unbearable as the days went by. his cock leaked pathetically with pre every time he thought about your lips against his. he craved the feeling of biting into the plushness of your bottom lip, and tugging just enough to have you whimpering.
when his tongue became less swole the first thing he tried to do was kiss you, only to be met with the petal soft skin of your cheek. ‘it’s only been three days, kook!’ you had scolded him, breaking his heart for what felt like the hundredth time that week.
you being the sweet, amazing girlfriend you were, fucked the sadness out of him every single time though hehe.
the situation always ended up the same way. jungkook would be underneath you, brown eyes the size of saucers while you rode him into a blissful oblivion. you rewarded his restraint to kiss you with sloppy pecks across his neck and throat, your tongue tracing random shapes and lines into the sweaty skin.
he felt like a fucking teenager with the way he was so quick to jump your bones.
it was now day ten, and jungkook has surely lost his mind by now.
he was currently home alone, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he waited to hear the familiar click! of the door unlocking.
you weren’t home, obviously. you had picked up an extra shift at the bakery you worked at, leaving jungkook all by his lonesome.
you’d been gone for seven whole hours, and to make things worse, you only texted kookie a handful of times before it was silence on your end.
he thought about going up there to visit you—maybe even partake in a sweet treat, but that would only end up doing him more harm than good. so here he sat, scrolling through your social medias for the umpteenth time.
fuck, you were so pretty. how did he end up with such a gorgeous girlfriend, hm? how did he manage to have the literal embodiment of perfection land in his lap?
he usually asked himself these questions when he was missing you really bad, or while he watched you sleep. is that creepy? eh, maybe, but who even really cares?
his eyes flicked up to the corner of the screen reading the time. it was fifteen minutes till five, and he still hadn’t heard from you since you last texted at noon.
“hope she isn’t working herself too hard . . .” he sighed, slumping back against the plush, gray couch cushions.
you were a bit of a perfectionist, and although he admired how much time and effort you put into your craft, he didn’t particularly care for how hard you were on yourself if the outcome wasn’t exactly what you wanted.
when you told jungkook baking was a ‘fun hobby’ of yours, he expected you to laugh off your minuscule mistakes, and enjoy the sweet treat. boy was he fucking wrong.
* cue super cute flashback *
“one more, one more!” jungkook chuckled, his tatted fingers gripping onto your chin to bring you in for another slow, nasty kiss. before you could even protest, his lips were against yours—soft and swollen from your previous kisses.
you giggled against his lips, a small gasp getting caught in your throat when he grabbed a handful of your ass over your pajama shorts. “mm, babe. i gotta get the cookies out before they burn,” you hummed, cunt clenching around nothing when he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth.
the sweet smell of brown sugar and chocolate wafted into your nose, and you knew soon enough the enticing smell would soon turn burnt and bitter if you didn’t act quickly.
jungkook gave you one last peck before releasing his grip on you, a lazy smirk lifting at the corner of his lips. “alright, alright. i’ll leave you alone . . . for now. now lets go check on those cookies,” he grinned, showcasing those oh so cute dimples that made you swoon every time you saw them.
he let you lead the way to the kitchen— why you ask? so he could fondle and smack your ass to his hearts content. you didn’t bother to say anything, allowing the giggling man behind you to continue his antics.
when you opened the oven your lips pulled into a thin line, already dissatisfied with the slightly burnt smell that greeted you.
while you were screaming in your mind twenty seven different ways, jungkook was behind you, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for you to pull the tray out. he was so blissfully unaware of how homicidal you were over these damn brown butter cookies.
he leant over the pan, taking a deep inhale of the sweet treat. “shit, these look incredible, baby,” he muttered, mouth now beginning to water.
all you could do was sigh, your brows pulling together in a deep frown. jungkook noticed this and it had the cogs in his brain turning. what could possibly be so wrong? these were the most perfectly baked cookies he’s ever seen!
without saying a word you slowly lifted up a cookie with a thin spatula. just as you thought—they were burnt. the bottom was entirely too dark for your liking. once they cooled they were going to be hard instead of soft. this just broke your heart.
jungkook noticed the cloudy look in your eyes and stood up straight. he turned your body towards his quickly, but gently. “hey, hey, what’s wrong? why do you look like you’re about to cr—i mean, um—”
it was too late. two fat tears were already rolling down cheeks, waiting to be wiped away by jungkook.
“ugh, why would you ask me thatttt? you know i always cry when you ask me that,” you sniffled, blinking away more tears. jungkook puffed air through his cheeks, and cupped your face with both hands. this made you want to cry even more, but you managed to pull it together with a slow, but shaky breath.
you tried to look everywhere besides in front of you, but it was painfully hard to avoid your boyfriends’ intense gaze.
“why are you crying? your cookies look perfect . . . i’m sorry, but i don’t—i don’t understand,” he spoke softly, sliding his hands from your jaw to your shoulders.
your eyes flicked to the tray beside you, and then to the floor. “i’ve . . . made these cookies so many times . . but the one time i wanna make them for you, i fucking burn them. what kinda sick joke is that?”
“but baby they look perfectly fine to—”
“uhn uhn!” you grabbed one of the now cooled cookies, and showed him the dark brown bottom. “they’re not moist! they’ll be hard—inedible soon enough,” you sighed, pulling apart the cookie to reveal the steaming inside.
jungkook was completely stumped. burnt cookies were a very dark brown, blackish color, and they usually left a foul stench in the air . . . yet these were a perfect golden brown, and smelt so sweet he could’ve gotten a tooth ache. was he missing something?
“hmph, i don’t know what went wrong. maybe i cooked the butter too long? maybe they weren’t cold enough? i don’t know . . . will you try, please?” you pouted, holding one half of the cookie in front of him. without a second thought, jungkook scarfed down the entire thing, along with the other half.
the still warm chocolate chips melted on his tongue, making him hum in content. you watched with an intense glint in your eyes, waiting for any sign that he disliked the cookie.
his tongue slowly ran over his bottom lip, and without saying a word he grabbed another cookie, devouring it in only two bites. your eyes softened, tear stained cheeks now feeling extra hot from embarrassment.
“shut up . . there’s no way they’re that good,” you muttered, hiding your face in his obscenely large pecs. jungkook only chuckled, his hand coming up to pet at your hair softly.
“i think you’re being entirely too hard on yourself, no? they may not be as soft as you want them, but they’re certainly edible, babe.” his words were so sweet, and so gentle, it made you want to start crying all over again.
when you didn’t say anything he continued, “you could serve me flour on a paper plate, and i’d still eat it because it was made by you, and i’m so serious.”
when he heard you giggling into his chest it made his heart clench, but in a good way! your laugh sounded like the finest of symphonies to him, a sound he could hear on repeat for all his days to come.
“there she is, there’s my girl. no more crying, ‘kay? makes my heart hurt to see you so sad,” he spoke lowly, giving the crown of your head three gentle kisses.
your eyes slowly shut, the sound of his heartbeat making you drowsier by the minute. you could’ve fallen asleep right there, standing and all, but the sudden smell warm brown sugar had your eyes fluttering back open.
“try it,” you heard him ask, although it sounded more like a demand. your lips parted, and with a little hesitation, you took a bite of the cookie. the taste of brown butter and vanilla had you humming in delight, and this brought a smirk to jungkook’s lips.
“good, right?”
you hummed a small ‘mhm’ in response, and took another bite. “still kinda dry. they’re decent at best, and i’ll never get hired at ‘the sweet spot’ with decent cookies.”
your body went stiff when you heard jungkook let out a particularly loud sigh.
he wasn’t bothered that you were talking about working at your dream job again, no, never that. what bothered him so damn much was that you really didn’t believe your baking was good enough to get the job.
jungkook cupped your jaw firmly, forcing you to look up at him. he muttered ‘stop that’ in korean. two words that you were very familiar with (due to you being a massive brat), and like every other time it made your cunt feel tingly.
“stop what . . .” you murmured, clearly acting clueless to what he was talking about.
he breathed out a small laugh, and tongued at the inside of his cheek, already caught on to your little game. “i believe my girl is smart enough to know what i’m talking about—”
with little to no strength he lifted you by the backs of your thighs, and set you on the counter. the cold marble had goosebumps rising all over your skin, and you’d be squealing right now if his lips weren’t smushed against yours to keep you quiet.
he kissed the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, and then the shell of your ear before whispering, “but if you need me to help spell it out for you, i really don’t mind.”
jungkook could’ve popped a boner right then and there at the way your pupils blew out at his words.
that’s how you ended up on the couch, knees pushed allll the way to your shoulders while jungkook edged you with his mouth. his tongue caressed your clit for what felt like hours, and you weren’t allowed to cum, let alone even move out of his grip, until you were screaming out affirmations about how you were going to get that job at the bakery.
two days later you woke up bright and early to prepare some sample pastries for your interview, and to no ones surprise (not even your own) you got the job! that same night you rewarded jungkook with his favorite apple and brown sugar strudels, and some mean head to thank him for encouraging you so much. <3
* end of cute flashback *
when jungkook had zoned back in from reminiscing, his jeans felt five times tighter than they did before, and his hands felt clammy. he needed you. all of you.
he needed to feel the soft bud of your nipple graze his tongue as he sucked on it. he needed to feel the pressure of your thighs squeezing against his head as he devoured you like you were his last meal. and most importantly; he needed a fucking kiss god dammit!!
he could barely even remember what it felt like to suck your tongue into his mouth. shit, he could hardly even remember the taste of your cherry gloss!
damn, that lip gloss you wore always looked so pretty—especially when you would suck him off and leave remnants of it all along the base of his cock.
“aish . . .” the frustrated man huffed out, giving his cock a quick palm over his sweats. his nose twitched, much like a bunny, when a shot of pleasure rushed down his spine at the contact.
his dick throbbed, almost painfully, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would cave and help himself. he was only human after all!
before he could even process what he was doing, jungkook clicked the phone icon right above your name, and pressed the phone against his ear. as the line rung he was internally pleading for you to answer the phone. all he wanted to do was hear your voice.
suddenly he heard a click on the other line—
“hello?”
“o-oh!” jungkook sat up straight, his lips breaking into a dopey half-smile at the sound of your voice. “i didn’t expect you to answer . . . you never answered my texts—not that that’s a problem. i know you’re busy being the best pastry chef in the world.”
he could hear the smile on your face as you talked about the ups and downs of your day, and shamefully enough, it was making him harder.
god, he hated himself right now. why has this temporary ban on kisses made him to beside himself?
“an’ now i’m just hanging out in the office to take a break. i think i’m gonna head out soon, though. i’ve been so spaced out today.”
“mm, what have you been thinking about?”
jungkook didn’t mean to have that oh so familiar seductive tone in his voice, but unfortunately for him, he practically purred out the question.
there was silence, and then—
“honestly? . . . you giving me head.”
jungkook almost moaned aloud at that, but instead let out a sound that was a mix of a whine and a gasp.
this is why you were made for him, why you were his girl. you both craved each other so much. its always been an ongoing match of who’s the biggest yearner between the two of you.
“you there, babe? too crude for the workplace?”
your sweet laugh only fueled the fire in his lower belly. jungkook was so horny it was almost difficult for him to speak.
“n-no . . no, not at all. i’ve been thinking about the same thing actually. remember that day when you baked those cookies?”
he heard a small, barely audible noise that sounded a lot like a whimper. “mhm.”
with a shaky hand, jungkook pushed himself up using the armrest of the couch. everything was entirely too hot, he needed to feel some kind of relief.
“i remember how you couldn’t stop shaking when i was done. you came for, like, a whole minute. i couldn’t believe it.” as jungkook dumbly babbled about eating you out, he was also making his way to the bedroom.
the first thing that caught his attention when he walked in the room was your discarded panties from that morning. it felt like the peach colored garment was calling out to him. begging to be fucked n’ soiled by his sticky cum.
he was broken out of his thoughts when he heard the airy sound of your voice. “c’monnnn. don’t say stuff like that, or else i’ll look like a total mess in front of everyone.”
“mm, and what if i want that to happen?” he breathily chuckled, swiping your panties off the floor in one swift movement. he tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder, and pulled his sweats down mid thigh before taking a seat at the edge of your shared bed.
“i think you look pretty cute all flustered and shy. i’m sure everyone else will think so, no?” jungkooks tone was very teasing, which was funny because he was honestly one stroke away from combusting into bits.
“mmcht. it might be cute to you, but i doubt my bosses will think it is.”
“hah—yeah . . . yeah, maybe you’re right,” jungkooks head tilted back when he finally wrapped the soft fabric of your panties over his swollen cock. it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him like you ever could, but it would have to do for now.
an attempt to stay neutral, and quiet was never even made because your man knew just how much you liked to hear him.
“k-kook, c’mon—”
“just fucking come home already, y/n. i don’t mean to rush you at all, baby, but—fuck. just—just listen,” his slurred sentenced trailed off with a moan, and suddenly your ears were met blessed with a wet shlicking sound.
“please—”
“i’m using your panties. the ones you left on the floor this morning to be—ngh, specific.”
jungkook knew he was being sooo mean, and sooo unfair, but unfortunately my mans was fresh out of self control.
“hurry up, and come home so we can ruin each other,” he rasped, letting out one last moan to break you even more.
the dark haired mans eyes fluttered shut, and the first image that popped in his head was you; stark naked, and spread out for him, ready to have your pussy eaten until you cried.
he brought your panties to his nose, and took a deep inhale, while his other hand steadily pumped the thick base of his dick. they sorta smelled of him now, but the scent of you was still overwhelmingly there.
“mm, fuck,” he panted out, poking his tongue out to take an experimental lick at the crotch part. what he was going was disgusting, humiliating, and beyond perverted, but—
“shittt. it tastes just like her.”
his ring clad fingers squeezed harshly at the tip, and when he ran his thumb over the leaky slit, he tried his absolute best to imagine it was you.
time had seemed to go by rather fast, because just as jungkook was about to edge himself for the third time, he heard the door, followed by quick footsteps. there was no point in trying to hide what he was doing because; 1. he was too horny to give a shit and 2. he actually wanted you to see him like that.
your reaction was just as he pictured in his head only moments ago—flustered and intrigued. “oh . . . you’re here. i missed you, baby. so much.”
the evidence of his confession was leaking obscenely in front of you, and all you could do was stand there with parted lips, and clenched thighs.
with a low grunt, jungkook released his firm grip on his cock. “c’mere. ‘wanna touch you.”
your bag was the first to go, the designer accessory hitting the carpet with a soft thud. it was like your feet had a mind of their own, one taking a step after the other until you were nearly in your boyfriends’ grasp.
the moment you were in reach, he was tugging you closer by your flour stained shirt, and burying his face between your covered breasts. “h-hey!” you gasped, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders. “this shirt is all dirty, honey, c’mon.”
“then take it off,” jungkook grunted below you, lifting up your shirt to finally kiss at your skin. he just didn’t give a shit anymore about the piercing rejecting, and if he kept this up, you were going to soon stop caring as well.
he kissed around the curves of your hips, making sure to give each side a cheeky little nibble, before tracing his tongue around your tummy.
“i’ll never get over how cute this is . . . suits you so well, sugar,” he spoke lowly, referring to the baby pink hello kitty jewelry that was pierced through your naval.
a purr rumbled in jungkooks chest when you scratched lightly at his scalp, murmuring a small, but sweet ‘thank you.’
“just—just lemme get these yucky clothes off, and take a shower before we get down to . . um, to business.” words that you were barely able to get out in the first place were quickly washed away, and long forgotten as jungkook suckled at your hip bone.
“you took a shower this morning, i’m sure you’re fine.”
this earned him a scoff, followed by a weak push to his shoulders. “i just worked for almost ten hours. not so sure i’m at my freshest.”
suddenly jungkooks nose was pressed against your lower tummy, “and yet you smell like sugar and . . . mm, strawberries?”
“close,” you whispered, taking his chin between your fingers. jungkook preened at the physical contact, leaning into your touch even further. his eyes widened slightly, patiently waiting for you to finish what you were saying.
“that’s cherries you’re actually smelling. i made a batch of cherry strudels before i left,” you finally spoke, scratching at his chin.
his lips parted, but you were quick to interrupt him, “i already know what you’re going to ask, and yes, there’s some in the kitchen waiting for you. ‘could never make some strudels without bringing one home for my kookie.”
fuck. you were just so sweet, and considerate, it made jungkook feel feral. his neglected cock twitched, begging for some kind of attention.
his fingers fiddled with the button to your jeans, and with those wide doe of his, he silently asked for permission to undo it. you bit your lip, hesitant at first, but after a little thought you slowly nodded.
his eyes stayed on yours, never once breaking contact as he undid the button of your jeans, the zipper soon following. “love you so much,” he whispered into your skin, slowly pulling them down.
you didn’t know what to expect during this very intense moment with your man, but what you certainly didn’t expect was for him to just start eating it through your panties!
his nose nudged against your clit as his tongue caressed the crotch area of your strawberry patterned panties. he could taste you. barely, but just enough. he could’ve passed away right then and there, and would’ve died happy, and content.
you were still standing, knees knocking together as you tried to keep yourself up. “babe, i really should freshen up f-first. h-hah, what about your piercing?”
suddenly a rush of pleasure shot down your back, making your body jolt forward. the sensation felt . . . foreign. this was odd, because jungkook has eaten you out through your panties plenty of times before.
“did you like the way that felt?” you heard the man below you speak, a cheeky smile spreading across his features. “want me to do it again? here—”
that same feeling returned, except it was more sloppy, more wet. it had your head tilting back, and if it weren’t for jungkook holding you up by the backs of your thighs, you surely would’ve collapsed.
you were absolutely speechless. your cunt was doing more of the talking than you were at this point, dripping into your panties, and creating an even bigger mess.
when you didn’t say anything, too wrapped in your own head, he spoke once more. “you like that, huh? like the way it feels on your pussy?”
your eyes fluttered rapidly, and when you peeked down, jungkook’s tongue was shallowly sticking out, giving you a nice view of the silver ball in the center. his tongue cupped your clit over your panties, slowly moving side to side.
jungkook was genuinely surprised he was keeping it together so well, and taking his time with you. before you arrived, the only thing he could think about was tearing these same panties he was kissing and licking on into two.
all you could do was watch in awe, the inside of your mind sounding like nothing but static. jungkook nipped at the inside of your thigh, regaining your attention.
“just a little taste, cutie. i can rinse with mouthwash after *kiss kiss* to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” you could practically feel your heartbeat in your clit as jungkook kissed over your clothed mound.
his fingers looped in the lacy waistband of your panties, and with a gentle tug, he pulled them down low enough just to get a peek at the fat of your pussy. he could see your clit peeking out from between your slicked folds, swollen and looking as tempting as ever.
“before you do that,” you whispered, carefully stepping out of your jeans, “i want a kiss.”
your man wasted no time pulling you into his lap, and it felt heavenly to be able to feel his dick press against your clothed pussy.
his tatted hand cupped the side of your face, “i just might die, and i’m not even kidding.”
this made you laugh, and although he was pleased to have made you smile, he was deadly serious. being denied your kisses had him nearly climbing up the walls!
“mm, you’re so dramatic—”
and that was the last thing that was said before jungkook’s lips were smushed against yours.
soft. that was the first word that popped in his mind. your lips, your skin, the little noises you made as he deepened the kiss—it was all just so soft.
you could tell he was trying to be gentle, and take his time, but it wasn’t long before his thumb was pushing down on your chin to part your lips wider.
the kiss was slow, deep, everything that he had imagined for the past ten days. feverishly, he sucked your tongue into his mouth, and the faint taste of cherry compote had him moaning into the kiss.
you could feel his piercing slide against your tongue. it had you shaking, like it was your first time kissing him all over again.
“hah—shit,” jungkook moaned, greedily kissing his way down to your neck. your skin was a bit sweaty from working so hard, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. “need to taste you now.”
you squeaked, eyes squeezing shut as he flipped you on your back with ease. his face burrowed into your neck, and while he whined apologies into your ear about the sudden roughness, his bottom half was also rutting pitifully into yours.
“oh my . . .” your lips parted in a dreamy sigh, lashes fluttering when you felt his swollen tip rub directly onto your clit. “p-please do something, kook.”
your shirt was pushed up, along with your bra, and seconds later you felt a pair of lips wrap around your left nipple. jungkook wasn’t pretty with it—he slobbered and licked all around your breast, making sure to swirl his piercing around your nipple in between licks.
“i am, baby. i am,” he gave your neglected nipple a wet kiss, “i got you, don’t worry.”
while you made quick work to rid your shirt and bra, jungkook kissed his way down your body, leaving a glistening trail behind him. when he reached your pussy, your thighs twitched making him smirk.
“you may be crying by the time i’m done with you,” he spoke softly, giving you clit one last kiss over your panties. “so i wanna apologize beforehand.”
he took his time removing your panties, his eyes zeroing in at the way your essence clung to the soaked cotton.
the second his tongue swiped between your sopping folds, he was greeted with a taste sweeter than anything you have ever baked for him. there was a slight tang that had him salivating for more, but the sweetness overpowered everything.
you knew jungkook was bound to have his dramatics turnt all the way up given the circumstances, but you definitely didn’t expect him to let out the loudest, most whiniest pornographic moan you’ve ever heard!
“babe,” you breathily giggled, combing your fingers through his hair. you tugged lightly on the strands when he sucked your swollen button into his mouth, the tip of his tongue caressing the pearl ever so gently. “p-pace yourself now, we have all the time in the world.”
jungkook hummed, but you honestly couldn’t even tell if he had heard a word you just said.
with a low grunt he pushed the backs of your knees up, and used his entire mouth to cup your pussy. his tongue slithered all between your folds before the infamous piercing finally swiped against your clit.
your stomach clenched when he did it again, and when he did it a third time, his ears were rewarded with you moaning out his name oh so sweetly.
“mm, you like that, baby? how does it feel? describe it for me,” he purred, circling his tongue around your clit. a shudder ran down your spine, and your cheeks felt as if someone placed hot coals on them.
“babe p-please—”
“do it.”
your lower half thrusted into nothing as jungkook spit directly on your clit. you could feel the saliva trickle between your folds, creating a wetter, even bigger mess between your thighs.
the center of of his tongue circled figure eights onto your clit, and you could feel the silver ball with every movement. your boyfriend was slowly, but surely, pushing you to your limit.
“it feels . . . u-um, like, different?”
“different in what way, baby? c’mon, i know that pretty head can come up with some smart words. you got the smartest mouth i know.” you could feel his smirk in your skin when he finished his sentence.
jungkook cupped your clit with his lips, and dragged his tongue all around the nub. his eyes fluttered shut at the symphony of moans that spilled past your kiss bitten lips.
the more he licked, the more your mind became a muddled mess. “kook—please slow down. i can’t thinkkk!” you whined, weakly pushing at his forehead.
your pleas only made him more feral for you, unfortunately.
the back of your head flew into the mattress when he hiked your thighs over his shoulders, bringing his face impossibly closer to your cunt. the grip he had on your thighs was kinda fucking ridiculous. you couldn’t move an inch!!
he has been hitting the gym a little harder to deal with all his pent up frustration, but jesus, you didn’t think he’d bulk up so quickly. if you were to compare your head to his biceps, you were sure they’d be bigger.
after ogling his physique from above, a pinch to your thigh brought you back to reality.
“i believe i asked you a question some time ago, and you still haven’t answered it.” his words were muffled into your thigh, and once he was done speaking he nipped at the skin just to hear you whine again.
“u-um, it feels hard . . weird, n’ makes her feel extra—ngh,” you tried to shut your thighs around his head from sensitivity, the word you were trying to say before you were interrupted, but jungkook was not letting up.
the sudden intrusion of his tongue in your clenching hole had tears springing to your eyes, but as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone just as quick.
“oh . . did you like that? maybe you should finish what you were saying, and i’ll reward you for it.” his tone was teasing, and just when you were gonna snap back at him, he was slurping obscenely at your cunt.
“i—”
with one final lick to your throbbing clit, you were cumming all over jungkooks tongue with a weak cry.
you couldn’t form a word, nor thought. all you could do was go limp, and let him have his way with you. he didn’t even mind that you came without permission—frankly, you could do anything you wanted, as long as he got to remain between your soaked thighs.
your essence coated his tongue like dribbles of honey, and he drank up every drop until your thighs were twitching against his reddened ears.
with a deep groan, jungkook pushed your knees alllll the way back, and when you wrapped your hands around your ankles to keep them in place, his chest swelled with pride.
jungkook latched on your clit, and hollowed his cheeks, earning a squeak from you. when his head shook back and forth, that’s when the tears in your eyes started free falling.
“o-ohh my,” you cried out, thighs now beginning to shake.
jungkook stopped, and only stopped, when he felt your finger tips tap repeatedly at his shoulders. something you only did when you were way past your limits.
he nosed at your clit, and gave her one more sloppy kiss before pulling away, but only by an inch. he didn’t want to stray too far from he wanted to be most.
it was silent for a few minutes; the only thing being heard were your shaky breaths, and the occasional whimper.
his lips brushed against your thigh, and when he started covering the dewy skin in kisses, you were mewling in protest. “i can’t, kook,” he heard you sniffle from above him.
“ngh—you’re lucky i’m so hard. otherwise i’d make you do it again,” he growled, slapping your pussy with his palm. your body jolted, and when you attempted to push yourself away from him, you were surprised to see you were out of his iron grip.
there you laid at the top of bed; chest heaving and legs shaking, meanwhile jungkook stayed knelt at the edge, eyeing you very intensely.
you felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribcage when he stood at his full height. the new addition to his sleeve tattoo that he had gotten a few weeks prior had him looking intimidating as ever.
he was silent as he removed his shirt, and he was still quiet as he shed his sweats and briefs. his cock was now an angry red shade, and leaking like a damn faucet. it had saliva pooling on your tongue.
“you gonna come down here, and take it? gonna come take what’s yours?” he spoke lowly, brown eyes never once leaving yours as he spit in his hand. he used that same hand to pump his twitching cock, slowly and teasingly.
your lips pushed into a pout, but you nodded, completely disregarding the throbbing between your legs. you needed him in your mouth immediately. even if it was just a taste.
his nostrils flared when you crawled over to him on all fours, and once you were finally in reach, his thumb hooked into your mouth, forcing you to look up at him.
“mm, you want some don’t you?”
his thumb was pushing down on your tongue, preventing you from speaking, so you just nodded. to drive him even crazier, you started sucking on the digit, even going as far as to moan around it.
“baby please,” your boyfriend panted above you, his cock twitching wildly at the action. he was so close to busting a nut, but he had to keep it together so you could have your fun with him.
he truly had you so spoiled.
he took the throbbing muscle in his hand once more, and slapped it against your cheek. “can’t do this for long. i’m already close enough as it is,” he warned, tracing the dribbling tip over your lips.
your eyes flicked from his cock to those big, brown boba eyes, and with a slow lick to your lips, you nodded.
when your lips wrapped around his cock, jungkooks jaw went completely slack. you gave him the same treatment he gave you; wet and messy.
thanks to copious amounts of throat training, you were able to take more than half of his cock in your mouth with ease. when the tip brushed against the back of your throat, his hips stuttered. “shitttt.”
you tried not to get carried away, but the nosies he was making were so pretty :(( you never wanted them to end.
your hand cupped his balls, and this earned you a nice, strained groan from him.
“geumanhae,” he muttered, yanking you back by your hair until only the tip remained between your lips. a shiver ran down his spine when he felt you exhale through your nose, and with one last trace around the head, you were pulling back completely.
you looked at him through your lashes, batting them softly. “stop what?”
jungkook chuckled softly, running a tatted hand through his slightly damp hair. “stop trying to make me cum. you’re not that slick.”
you fake pouted, and leant forward, messily kissing all across his thighs and lower abdomen. “what gave me away?” you spoke softly, trailing your kisses higher up his body.
when you reached his lips, jungkook gave in and gave you a single, slow kiss. “was too wrapped in it to realize anything . . . until you started moaning too. you know that shit makes me cum quick,” he chuckled, bumping his nose against yours.
“pfft, whatever. now gimme another kiss.”
jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. he squished your cheeks together, and slithered his tongue into your mouth. when you started sucking on his tongue, his chest deflated in a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
you both were as physically close as two people could be, but it just wasn’t enough for him. god, he just wanted to live in your skin all day, everyday.
“how do you want it?” he hummed, kissing his way down to your neck. your chest arched into his, and with a dreamy sigh you said, “on my stomach.”
you heard a small ‘mhm’ and then you were turnt around, and pushed to your tummy. your lashes fluttered weakly, trying to process jungkook’s quickness. you shimmied further up the bed to rest your head on the mountain of pillows at the top.
“oh, baby. you don’t need those,” you heard your man chuckle behind you. you felt the bed dip, and then a sudden warmth against your back. jungkook lifted your head up gently, and slid him arm underneath with ease, allowing your head to rest prettily on his bicep. “not when you can lay right here.”
his bicep was nice n’ strong, but soft enough to rest against. the perfect pillow.
you used whatever strength you had left to spread your thighs apart, you didn’t stop until your knees knocked against his muscly thighs. “please put it in.”
jungkook rubbed the fat tip of his dick between your swollen folds, his nose twitching at the intense warmth that greeted him.
“hah—i’ll try to go slow . . can’t guarantee anything after that.”
he circled his tip around your clit, relishing in the wet noises that he heard, and with a shallow inhale, he finally pushed the first couple of inches inside your pussy.
he heard you let out a tiny gasp, and your body tensed slightly at the intrusion. “d-don’t clench so hard, baby,” he panted in your ear, “s’just me. ease up.”
the warmth that you felt on your back suddenly spread all along your body. jungkook covered you like a blanket, not letting a single sliver of your skin go untouched by him.
that sweet, citrusy smell of his wafted into your nose, and that’s when you finally eased up, allowing him to push more of his cock inside your tight heat. jungkook was careful with it at first; slowly sliding in and out until he was pumping into you with ease.
your brows scrunched together in pleasure, “oh fuck.”
jungkook made a noise in his chest so low at you cursing, it sent shivers down your spine. his free hand snaked underneath your bodies, and pinched at your clit. “w-watch that fuckin’—ngh, mouth.”
“s-sorry, sorry! can you go faster, please?”
you could feel jungkooks cock twitch inside you at your request, and without saying a word, he pulled alllll the way out before slamming back inside you. he moaned into your shoulder when your ass shimmied against his front. “what’re you doing, baby?” his voice was raspy, and strained as if he’d been hurt.
“need—need all of it in me,” you slurred out, too cockdrunk to even care about how stupid his dick has made you already. all you knew in this moment was that you needed every. single. inch of him.
“don’t worry, you got it all. just focus on feeling good for me,” jungkook whispered in your ear, now starting a steady rhythm of deep thrusts. you didn’t need to be told twice, and just completely went limp, allowing him to have his way with you once more.
his rough fingers grabbed at the fat of your hips, pulling you more into him, so he could fuck you harder.
“you like that? like when i fuck you like this?” he growled, wrapping his tatted bicep around your neck. your chin was resting on his forearm, and soon enough drool was dribbling from between your plush lips and onto his skin.
the loud moan you let out was more than enough of a response for him.
being trapped in his arms like this always made you excited, and a little scared. he was just sooo much bigger compared to you, and the fact that he was able to keep you in place or manhandle into any position he wanted didn’t make the obsession any better.
“ah ah ah! o-oh my goddd,” your baby pink, sock covered feet kicked wildly against the bed when his cock hit a spongy spot particularly deep inside of you. “gon—gonna cum soon,” you wept into his skin, the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as the seconds passed.
“i-i know. i can feel it.”
and he wasn’t lying. your walls pulsed around him like crazy, warning him of your nearing orgasm. the loud squelching that happened each time he pushed into you was also a dead giveaway.
jungkooks hand snaked beneath your bodies once more, stopping at your lower tummy. he used three fingers to push down, hard.
this had your eyes crossing, your back arching into his scorching hot chest.
“j-jeonnn—!” you squealed out, limbs having a mind of their own as they twitched and shook violently underneath him.
jungkook tightened his grip around your neck, and fucked into you even harder, milking your orgasm for all it was worth.
“uhn, shit. squeezin’ me so tight, baby. who’s fucking you so good like this, huh?” he grit out, lowering his head to smush the side of his against your own. his tongue darted out to lick at a stray tear falling down your temple.
you couldn’t speak. your entire mind sounded like static, completely useless. that definitely wasn’t sitting right with your man.
“a-ah! jung—jungkook!” you sobbed out, the nerve endings on you shoulder going crazy from being bitten by him. it hurt, like a lot, but it also felt fucking amazing.
jungkooks tongue lolled out to soothe the bite, and each time his piercing swiped across the sensitive flesh you shivered. “there you go, baby. that’s all i wanted to hear.”
his heavy, brutal thrusts were no more, instead he settled for shallow grinding. god, he was so close to cumming, but he couldn’t. not now at least.
“c’mon. wanna— *huff* wanna fuck in front of the mirror.”
you whined at this, shaking your head weakly in protest. jungkook chuckled, sitting back on his knees, cock still nestled snugly inside of you. he spread your ass cheeks, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip at the sight of your cunt hugging his length so nicely.
“ugh, babe. m’so sensitive, please,” you sniffled, brows scrunching together in pleasure once more. this fucker had the audacity to flex his cock inside you, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face.
“pleaseee? i’ll be extra gentle i promise.”
you let out a small sigh when his rough hands began to massage at your lower back, careful not to press too hard.
“you’re such a liar. as soon as you have me bent over, you’ll be rough again,” you giggled, arousal starting slowly to pool in your belly once again.
you could feel the way his cock twitched, the way the thick veins wrapped around the base thrummed against your walls. fuck, you really wanted to feel the warmth of him nutting inside you.
jungkook mumbled a small apology as he slowly pulled his cock out, and wow. you had his shit glistening. streaks of your cream coated the base, and if you weren’t feeling so tired, he’d make you clean up your mess.
“turn around for me, pretty girl. wanna see your face.”
it took a minute, or three, but you finally managed to turn over with a loud huff. jungkook was still sitting back on his knees, eyes now glued to your swollen cunt.
you were so wet.
dribbles of your cum trailed down your ass cheeks and onto the bed, soaking the black cotton sheets even further. he chuckled, “guess i’m gonna have to do laundry . . . again. what a sloppy pussy you got, princess.”
he slapped your pussy once, twice, and when he did it a third time your thighs were closing in sensitivity.
“what’s wrong? thought you liked when i slapped her like that?” he tongued at the inside of his cheek, admiring how phat your pussy looked with your thighs closed the way they were.
“mm, i do. just extra sensitive right now,” you giggled hugging your knees to your chest.
jungkook slowly got off the bed, and with little to no strength, he pulled you down to the edge by your thighs. your arms reached out for him, and he was happy to lean down to let you wrap your arms around his thick neck.
“gonna let me have my way with you again, cutie?” he smirked, lifting your body off the bed. his rough hands cupped your ass, keeping you flush against his chest. the tip of his cock bumped against your cunt, and if he wasn’t so bent on taking you in front of the long mirror against the bedroom wall, you knew he’d fuck you right here, standing and all.
“you may . . . but you better be gentle. i have work tomorrow, n’ don’t wanna be sore,” your nails scratched at the nape of his neck, making him sigh contently. “you’re the best, baby.”
your legs slowly unwinded from around his waist, allowing him to set you down. you heard a giggle, and whipped your head around. “you laughin’ at me?” you smirked, getting on your knee in front of the mirror.
jungkook joined you on the floor, his lips breaking into an even bigger smile. “yes, yes, a little. your legs are shaking so much, i can’t help it.” and there he went showcasing those two, front bunny teeth that had you falling in love with him all over again every time you saw them.
you shifted towards him, your eyes sparkling like the finest of diamonds. “you’re so handsome,” you whispered, resting your hands on his thick thighs. “gimme a kiss.”
it was so nice to kiss your man again, it really was. his lips were always so soft, and plush. he did things with his tongue during kisses that you didn’t even know were possible!
“s-so obsessed with you,” jungkook moaned into your mouth, his hands gripping onto the fat of your hips so harshly, you were sure to feel it for the next couple hours.
your hand wrapped around his leaky, neglected dick, giving it a few slow pumps. jungkooks abs clenched, and his mouth parted, allowing you to suck his tongue into your mouth.
you let out a small squeak when he smacked your ass, tatted hand grabbing onto the soft, jiggly flesh afterwards. “you’re—heh, y-you’re distracting me,” he moaned softly, giving your ass another quick slap.
“m’sorry, baby. just can’t help myself, i missed your kisses so much.”
jungkook could’ve fucking cried. he was so turned on, and in love right now, the shit nearly brought him to tears.
“no, no, don’t be sorry. never be sorry, especially when it comes to men, remember?” he whined into the kiss, sloppily making his way down your jaw, and into the crook of your neck. “you’re everything—a fucking goddess. everyone should be kissing the ground you walk on.”
jungkook wasn’t even sure what he was saying at this point, too drunk on you and your body to even care what was coming out of his mouth.
your head tilted back in a moan, giving jungkook more access to your neck. “don’ say stuff like that. gonna make me an even bigger brat than i already am.”
jungkook didn’t mind that honestly. yes, you can be the biggest, poutiest brat he’s ever met, but you were his brat.
his brat to punish and reward as he see fit. his to fuck, and then take care of afterwards. his to spoil.
and spoiled you were!
after many failed relationships/situationships, jungkook became your first real boyfriend when you reached your early twenties. he took care of you financially, and loved you in ways you didn’t even know were possible, ruining you for any man or woman that could potentially come after him. (there will be no one that comes after him.)
“i don’t give a fuck about that. gotta keep you bratty so you need me all the time. all i wanna do is be needed by you, y/n.”
with one final kiss to your sweaty skin, jungkook removed his face from that oh so comfortable crook in your neck. “now turn around, and arch for me.”
you didn’t say anything. you just peered at him through your lashes, and gave him that look. the look that silently told him you wanted him to fuck you sooo good, and fill you up with his kids.
you turned around, now facing the mirror. you looked completely spent; the light eye makeup you wore to work was now streaky and smudged. the cherry gloss you were once wearing was now nothing but a memory—jungkook made sure of that.
your eyes found his in the mirror, and never left them as you got on all fours. your back arched, and that’s when jungkook was the first to break eye contact, his eyes immediately falling on your pussy.
you looked very enticing from this angle to say the least.
“remember,” you spoke softly, regaining his attention, “go slow.”
he didn’t want to go slow, like at all. his balls felt so heavy, ready to fill up your soft walls. going slow was the last thing jungkook wanted to do.
but you were his princess, his special girl, his reason for still having hope in this crazy world—so instead of fucking you into you floor like he hated you, jungkook took his time. well sorta.
he used no hands to push himself back inside your warmth, something you both very much enjoyed to watch, and slammed all the way in without warning.
you made a noise between a sob and a moan, completely taken aback by the action. your face fell into the plush carpet, your arch deepened, and jungkook could tell you were going to lay into him by the pout on your lips, but he was quick to shush your whines with a few soft kisses on the small of your back.
“so deep like this . .” your voice was light and airy, brain totally convinced that jungkook was almost in your tummy. a whine bubbled in your chest when he pulled your head up by your hair, forcing you to look at him once more.
“keep your head up. ‘wanna see your face while i fuck you.”
sigh, he had such a way with words.
a small, dopey smile formed on your lips, and he could see the hearts forming in your eyes at the demand. “i’ll keep my head up. promise.”
jungkook offered you a small smile in the mirror, and then his eyes slowly trailed to the sight of your cunt swallowing up his dick. your ass was pressed nice n’ tight against his pelvis, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the heat from your pussy against his balls.
he tongued at his lip piercing, nostrils flaring as he slowly pulled out an inch, and then pushed himself back in. he just kept repeating to himself ‘need to go slow. need to go slow. need to go slow for her.’
while jungkook was having an internal battle to keep his composure, you were having your own challenges trying to keep your head up. each time he pushed back in, he went all the way in to the hilt, letting his fat tip knock against sensitive, spongy spot deep inside you.
a pearl colored ring of cream was now forming on the base of his cock, and that just made it all the more harder to keep his slow, steady rhythm going.
“love taking you like this,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your peachy ass. when he glanced your reflection in the mirror; your head was still surprisingly up, but your eyes were low lidded, and your teeth were clamped onto your bottom lip so hard it looked like you were on the verge of drawing blood.
thankfully you released the plump flesh to respond to him, “y-yeah, me too.”
although you couldn’t see what he did, you could certainly hear it. the sound of his thick cock splitting open your creamy folds was deafening. you were so wet that at some points, jungkook was afraid his dick would slip right out of you.
“stop clenching s-so much,” he huffed, pulling you back by the fat of your ass to fuck into you not faster, but harder.
each time he was a little more than halfway out, you would clench your cunt around his tip, like you were afraid he’d pull out, and leave you high and dry.
“sorry i just—hah! n-need you to go a little faster? please?” you tried to make it sound like a demand, but under your boyfriends’ hungry stare, it was hard to give him any kind of orders. he made you feel so helpless when he got like this.
“yeah? like this?” the pace of his hips increased slightly, but not enough to satiate you. your eyes met his in the mirror again, “um, more like this—”
you pulled your hips forward, and slammed them back. you repeated this action until jungkook began to match your pace while also maintaining how hard his cock was pumping into you.
you thought he was deep before, but this was entirely new—you could feel him in your chest! it hurt a little, but it hurt so good.
“y-yeah—mm, just like that.” your head was starting to droop, obstructing his view of your pretty, fucked out face. this simply wouldn’t do—not when you’ve reached being peak cockdrunk.
your head was yanked up by your hair, and kept in place by jungkooks hand, his grip not loosening in the slightest. “do you even know what your name is right now?” he chuckled, swatting at your ass before gripping the jiggling flesh.
you whined, lips pushing into a pout as you shook your head ‘no’. this made his smile grow wider, and his balls tighten—he needed you cum inside you now.
his hand moved from your hair to your throat, and with a gentle tug, he finally relieved you of holding yourself up by keeping you pressed tightly against his sweaty chest.
“i’m so fucking cl-ose, god. please tell me you’re close, baby,” his words came out slurred from him mouthing at your shoulder.
you wanted to answer him, please him, but you simply couldn’t find the worlds—let alone move your lips to say them. that was until jungkook threatened to pull out if you didn’t.
you knew he wasn’t bluffing by the way his hips started to slow, and you’d be damned if they came to a complete stop.
you turned your head towards him, and jungkooks lips caught yours in a nasty kiss. tongues were sucked, teeth clashed together, and while he sucked on your bottom lip, you muttered out a breathy, ‘i’m close, kook.’
“i love you so much.”
“i love you m-more.”
several bruising thrusts later, and jungkook was cumming inside you with a loud whine, his hand closing around the sides of your throat a bit tighter to keep you in place. he shoved his free hand between your dripping thighs, and with three thick fingers, he rubbed fast circles on your clit.
“o-oh shittt!” your hand wrapped around his tatted wrist tightly, fingernails digging into his heated skin in a weak attempt to stop him.
“i told you to watch your fucking mouth,” he moaned out, pushing your head into the carpet, hard. you barely noticed though, too wrapped up in your quickly approaching orgasm.
he propped one knee up, and began delivering mean strokes. “you’re kinda struggling to listen today *huff* guess i can’t blame you though,” he chuckled, briefly slowing his thrusts so he could let a glob of spit fall into the already excessively wet mess between your bodies.
his cock as completely covered in your essence and his cum, and fuck, he felt so sensitive and raw, but he just couldn’t stop. in this moment, he truly believed that fucking your creamed pussy like this was the closest he’d get to feeling nirvana.
you were completely taken aback by how rough he was being with you. you loved it. you wanted more.
just as you were about to cum you moaned out ‘oh fuck!’ so loud, you were sure your neighbors heard. this only made jungkook smush your face harder into the carpet, his body hunching almost completely over yours as he fucked you at a speed so quick it had you seeing white.
you could suddenly feel puffs of air against your ear.
“if you wanted to get fucked harder all you had to do was ask—don’t gotta disobey me to get me to do it,” you heard him growl into your ear, and that’s what had you cumming with a squeal, your back arching completely into the floor.
jungkook fucked you through the entire thing, and then some more.
“y-yeah, that’s right. get it out for me—f-fuck, you sound so hot,” he whined into your hair, his pace never once faltering. he pressed a kiss to your sweaty shoulder, and straightened up his back. he bit down roughly on his bottom lip as he admired the erotic sight before him.
“p-pull out!” you moaned out, and when your cunt clenched tightly around his cock, he knew what was coming.
jungkook pulled out completely, and a clear stream of your cum followed, soaking the carpet beneath you. your body went limp, slowly slumping into a pile of mush.
you whimpered, tears free falling down your cheeks as jungkook massaged your ass and lower back. you could hear him mumbling praises, but you were entirely too spent to respond.
“c’mon, lets get you off the floor, and into the shower,” he spoke softly, earning a whine of disapproval from you. “you’re all messy, baby. plus, you need to pee,” he said matter of factly. he never failed to wake you up out a blissful post-fuck catnap to pee.
“fine, but you’re gonna have to carry me.”
“don’t i always, pretty girl?”
fifteen minutes later, you found yourself in the shower with jungkook, steaming water cascading down your sore bodies. jungkook had wrapped your hair up for you before you got in, allowing you to enjoy this quiet time with no worries.
he held you tightly against his chest, and hummed lowly, rocking your bodies side to side. after a few moments he whispered, “you think you can stand by yourself while i wash you?”
he was always such an intimate, sweet man.
you pressed a gentle kiss to his pec and nodded. “wanna wash you too when you’re done,” you mumbled, immediately missing his warmth as you detached your arms from around his slim waist.
jungkook was quick to squirt your favorite hemp rose soap into a loofa, and with careful hands, he scrubbed your body. first was your shoulders, and then your breasts where he took his sweet time, and as he scrubbed over your tummy and lower abdomen, a certain feeling had your lower half tingling.
“turn around, baby,” he hummed, adding more soap onto the loofa. he washed over your back carefully, afraid that if he added too much pressure, you’d shatter right in front of him.
he had you turn towards him once again, and got on his knees so he could wash your legs. he was very thorough. not a an inch of skin gone untouched by him.
he was eye level with your still messy pussy, and he’d be lying if he said taking a lick or two didn’t cross his perverted mind.
he looked up at you through his dripping lashes, “could you hand me your washcloth, please? gotta, um, clean up between your thighs.”
you brushed dark, wet strands of hair out of his face, allowing you to see those oh so tempting big, brown eyes of his.
“how about . . you use your tongue?” your voice came out tiny at the end, embarrassment flooding your system. you weren’t the best at dirty talk like this freak was.
he smirked at you, “yeah? want me to clean you up?”
he kissed at the insides of your thighs, nipping at the petal soft skin every now again to hear you gasp. your back fell against the cool tiles of the shower wall when you felt his tongue ghost over your slit.
he swiftly, yet calmly lifted your leg up by the back of your knee, and set it carefully over his shoulder. his tongue flattened, and slowly licked between your folds. the taste that greeted him was nothing less than sweet.
because of his great diet, jungkooks cum was on the sweeter side, so he never minded eating it out your pussy, especially when yours was mixed with it.
“keep going s-slow like that,” you huffed out, bucking your hips up. jungkook hummed and continued slowly stroking your clit, with his tongue. when his piercing brushed over it you mewled like a kitten, brows scrunching in pleasure.
his hand caressed the thigh that was on his shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps with each touch.
“good pussy,” he mumbled into your cunt, circling your hole with his tongue before slowly pushing it inside. your stomach caved in in sensitivity, a broken moan slipping past your kiss bitten lips.
his tongue massaged your sensitive walls, curling up just enough to have your thighs twitching. his nose nudged against your clit with each movement, bringing you closer and closer to your umpteenth orgasm of the night. you’d lost count long ago.
you nearly collapsed when you felt a finger prod at your entrance, and jungkook was quick to kiss your whines away with small pecks to your clit. “just one, baby. just wanna get you to where you need to be,” he groaned into your cunt, sucking your clit between his plump lips.
your thighs started to shake, and it wasn’t love before you were creaming all over jungkooks tongue with a high whimper. he laved his tongue sloppily over your swollen button, making you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.
he licked your pussy clean, not leaving a drop behind to be wasted. “always so sweet for me,” he grinned, kissing the mound of your pussy before standing.
“now let me actually clean you up, needy girl,” he smirked, reaching for your lilac colored washcloth. he was gentle as ever as he slide the cloth over your gooey folds. he would mumble sweet apologies anytime he brushed over your raw clit, and each apology was followed by a kiss.
he was next to be washed down, and trust you took your sweet time running the navy blue loofa over his slicked skin. when you reached his lower half, he just smirked at you the entire time.
“my eyes are up here, pretty,” he chortled, regaining your attention that was previously on his soft cock. even when he wasn’t aroused his cock still looked so enticing.
once out of the shower, jungkook did all the work; meaning he dried you off, covered your body in shea butter, and ‘dressed you’ which was just him putting one of his shirts on you with nothing underneath.
all that fucking made him work up quite the appetite, so you weren’t entirely surprised when he started complaining of a rumbling stomach.
you settled on whipping him up his favorite spicy instant ramen with a fried egg. his body was glued to yours the entire time you cooked, lips occasionally pressing a kiss to your clothed shoulder.
“mm, kook,” you giggled, craning your neck away from his eager lips, “go sit, i’m almost finished. i’ll heat up the strudels while you eat.”
“but you’re so warmmm.”
“well, you should’ve put on a shirt. not my fault you wanna walk around and flaunt your muscles,” you grinned, pouring the steaming noodles into his favorite bowl to eat ramen out of.
it was a red, ceramic bowl that you had made during a pottery class you took with your friend. you were insistent on throwing it away because, lets face it, it could’ve been prettier, but jungkook refused to toss it. he insisted it was one of the most beautiful ceramic dishes he’s ever seen. a lie, but a sweet one.
with a huff, jungkook released his hold on you, and slowly made his way to the small table in the corner of the kitchen. he sat in one of the two chairs, and propped his chin on his elbow, admiring the view of you bustling around the small kitchen.
“there, all finished,” you said to yourself, carefully placing the fried egg on top of the noodles. “here you go, baby. careful, its super hot.”
jungkook didn’t head your words, of course, and took a big bite after blowing on the steaming bowl a handful of times. “s’hot . . . but s’good,” he said with a mouthful of food, brows furrowing together almost angrily.
“i’m glad you like them. i tried to eat some, but they were entirely too spicy for me,” you snickered, placing the strudels on a baking sheet.
“oh come onnn, they can’t be that spicy to you. c’mere give them another tryyyy.” even though you knew you were gonna regret your decision to indulge in the spicy food, you didn’t mind in the slightest knowing it would make jungkook happy.
begrudgingly, you stalked over to where he was sitting, your hands glued to your sides. “come here, pretty girl. got a small bite right here for you,” he smirked, holding up his chopsticks.
you made a small noise that sounded like a whine, and bent down, taking his chopsticks between your lips. sure enough, they were too hot for your tastebuds, leaving behind a painful sting as you swallowed them.
“ack! see, kook! too spicyyyy,” you panted out, shuffling your way over to the fridge.
as you downed a glass of ice cold cranberry juice to soothe the ache in your mouth, jungkook just watched with hearts in his eyes.
the one where you convince your boyfriend to try that stupid tiktok trend - eating sushi off his bicep - only for the sushi not to be the rawest thing caught on camera that night.
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: established relationship au, porn with plot, smut, fluff (mdni!)
word count: 8,089
warnings/tags: 18+, explicit smut, unprotected sex, creampie!, multiple orgasms (like... three), dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, recording/filming (the phone is basically a third character), food play (sushi on nipples, sushi on biceps, sushi everywhere), oral sex (f. and m. receiving), breast play (he fucks her tits and it's messy), clit stimulation (so much blowing on it, rubbing, tonguing), fingering, grinding and dry humping, squirting (she literally gushes everywhere), cum play (eating sushi mixed with cum, sucking her own fluids off him), hair pulling/fisting, lip biting, hickies/marking, second person pov, rich miami aesthetic, tiktok trends gone wrong (or right), that lip ring doing damage, "i fucking love you" ending, soft aftercare
a/n: I was in the process of writing chapter 3 for my jungkook series "purple tears I cry," and a certain sushi scene made me think of this that I just had to write a whole separate oneshot smut for it. this is genuinely nasty, please read at your own risk! hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think of it... don't forget to reblog <3
The Miami humidity clings to your skin the moment you step out of the Uber, but the restaurant's AC hits like a wall of relief, crisp and expensive-smelling, all yuzu and polished wood and money. Nobu. Of course he chose Nobu. You catch your reflection in the dark glass doors, your teal dress catching the neon glow from the street, the silk clinging to the curve of your hips in a way that makes Jungkook's hand tighten at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you who you belong to tonight.
Your hair is up, mostly, a messy twist that took you forty minutes to make look effortless, two strands curling against your collarbones like they have a mind of their own. Your skin glows, sun-kissed and dewy, and you feel his eyes on you, always on you, as the hostess leads you to the corner booth. You make sure to sway your hips a little more than necessary because you know he's watching, know his gaze is fixed on the way the silk shifts over your ass.
He's wearing a white button-up - one that should look innocent, corporate, boring, except he's left the first five buttons undone, and the fabric gapes open to reveal the hard plane of his chest, the ink that spills over his shoulder and disappears beneath the cotton. His lip ring catches the low light when he smiles at you, silver glinting against his mouth, and something low in your stomach tightens because you know exactly how that metal feels against your throat, your breastbone, the inside of your thigh. You know how it feels when he drags it down your stomach, when he looks up at you with those dark eyes while he tongues you open.
You slide into the booth and immediately pull out your phone, propping it against your water glass, angling it just so. The red recording light blinks to life. Jungkook raises an eyebrow but says nothing, just settles across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table, his foot hooking around your ankle to pull you closer.
"Documenting the experience?" he asks, his voice low, rough, the kind of voice that makes you think of hotel sheets and sweat and the way he sounds when he's inside you.
"Memories," you say, but your eyes drop to his mouth, to the silver ring there, and you know he sees it, knows exactly what you're thinking. You adjust the phone slightly, making sure the frame catches both of you, the candlelight, the way his shirt falls open when he leans back.
The server arrives with menus you don't need because you already know what you want, what you always want here. But Jungkook takes his time, asks questions about the omakase, the wine pairings, his voice smooth and deliberate while his shoe slides up your calf beneath the table, pushing the silk of your dress higher, higher, until it brushes the back of your knee and you have to bite your lip to keep from making a sound.
"Spicy tuna," you manage, your voice breathier than you intended, and Jungkook's eyes darken because he knows, he always knows what he's doing to you.
"Two orders," he says to the server, not looking away from you. "And sake. The good stuff."
The sake arrives in a ceramic flask, and he pours for you, his fingers brushing yours as you take the cup, and you make sure to let your tongue linger on the rim when you drink, watching his jaw tighten, watching his gaze drop to your mouth. You set the cup down and lean forward, the neckline of your dress gaping just enough, and you see his eyes flick down, see his throat work as he swallows.
"You're playing with me," he murmurs, and his shoe presses harder against your leg, insistent.
"Maybe you're playing with me," you counter, and you kick off your heel under the table, let your bare foot find his thigh, slide up, up, until you're pressing against the hard outline of him through his trousers, and he hisses, his hand gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white.
"Careful," he warns, but his hips shift, pressing into your touch, and you smile, sweet and dangerous.
"Or what?"
The spicy tuna arrives like art, ruby-red and glistening, arranged on black slate with edible flowers you won't eat. You take the first piece with your fingers because fuck the chopsticks, and Jungkook's gaze tracks the movement, watches your lips close around the fish, the rice, the wasabi that burns just enough. You moan, deliberately, because you know what it does to him, and his jaw tightens, that muscle jumping beneath the skin, his hand disappearing beneath the table where you know he's adjusting himself.
"Good?" he asks, voice wrecked already, ruined, and you haven't even started.
"So good," you say, and you take another, and another, each time making sure to lick your fingers after, slow, obscene, your eyes locked on his. You can see the flush spreading up his neck, can see the way his chest rises and falls faster than it should, the open shirt showing too much skin, the tattoo peeking out, and you want to trace it with your tongue, want to mess up his hair and ruin his composure right here in this restaurant full of people who think they're being subtle about watching you.
You lean back, your foot still working him beneath the table, and you reach for your phone, checking the angle, making sure it's still recording. You tilt it slightly to catch more of him, the candlelight catching the silver in his lip, the way his eyes look black with want.
"Say hi to the camera," you tease, and he does, his voice rough, his smile sharp and predatory.
"Hi, camera," he says, and then, lower, just for you, "Can't wait to see what you do with this footage later."
You take another piece of tuna and hold it out across the table, an offering, a test. He leans forward, never breaking eye contact, and takes it from your fingers with his teeth, his tongue brushing your fingertips, hot and wet, and you feel it everywhere, feel it between your legs where you're already aching, already soaked through your underwear.
"Jungkook," you breathe, and he catches your wrist, holds it, sucks your fingers into his mouth one by one, cleaning them, his tongue swirling around each digit while the restaurant noise fades to nothing and there's only him, only this, only the wet heat of his mouth and the promise of what comes after.
"You're killing me," he murmurs against your palm, his lips brushing the sensitive skin at your wrist, and you shiver, your foot still pressed against his hard length, feeling him throb even through the fabric.
"Good," you whisper. "Suffer."
You eat slowly, deliberately, drawing out every bite, every sip of sake, every moment of his foot tracing patterns on your calf, his knee pressing between your thighs under the table. You talk about nothing, everything, your voice light while your body screams for him, while you watch the sweat bead at his hairline, watch him shift in his seat, uncomfortable and hard and yours.
By the time you're full, stuffed, the silk of your dress feels tighter across your ribs, and you lean back with a groan, hand on your stomach, your foot finally retreating from his lap. He exhales, shaky, and adjusts himself again, not subtle, not caring who sees, and you love him like this, undone, desperate, ready to drag you out of here and fuck you in the Uber if he has to.
"I can't," you say, patting your stomach. "I'm gonna burst."
Jungkook smirks, that dangerous smirk that means trouble, that means you're in for it the second you get back to the hotel. "Shame. I like watching you eat."
"Pervert."
"Your pervert."
You flag down the server, ask for a takeout box, and Jungkook pays without looking at the check, just slides his card across the table like the amount doesn't matter, because it doesn't, not to him, not to either of you tonight. You pocket your phone, the recording still running, capturing everything, capturing the way he stands and offers you his hand, the way he pulls you against him in the elevator, his mouth at your ear.
"You're going to pay for that," he whispers, and you shiver, feel his hand slide down to grip your ass, squeezing hard.
"Promise?"
The hotel suite is all white and marble and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, dark now, just a black expanse beyond the glass. You kick off your heels, your feet sinking into carpet that probably costs more than your first car, and you collapse onto the sectional, pulling out your phone, scrolling through the footage while he pours himself a drink at the mini bar, his back to you, the white shirt pulling across his shoulders, the tattoo peeking out from beneath the sleeve.
TikTok. Endless, brainless TikTok to wind down.
A couple on a beach. A dance trend you don't care about. A recipe for something with feta cheese.
Then: a girl, pretty, blonde, sitting cross-legged on a bed in what looks like a generic hotel room. Her boyfriend beside her, shirtless, flexing his bicep. The girl grins at the camera, then at him, and unwraps a sushi roll, places it on the hard curve of his muscle, and leans down to take it with her teeth. The comments are screaming. The views are in the millions.
You stare at the screen.
You stare at the takeout box on the coffee table.
You stare at Jungkook, who's pouring himself a drink, his back to you, the white shirt still open, showing too much skin, the lip ring catching the light when he turns his head.
Enlightenment.
You set your phone down. Stand. Cross the room on bare feet, silent, predatory. He hears you, turns, glass halfway to his lips, and you pluck it from his hand, set it on the marble counter with a clink that sounds like a promise.
"Take your shirt off," you say.
His eyebrow arches, that lip ring catching the light again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." You reach for the takeout box, open it, the spicy tuna still perfect, still glistening, and you can feel him watching you, confused and curious and already getting hard because he always gets hard when you use that tone, that minx tone, the one that means you're about to ruin him.
He sets the glass down. Undoes the remaining buttons slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving yours. The shirt falls open, then off, and he's bare in front of you, all golden skin and ink and muscle that makes your mouth water. You step closer, close enough to feel the heat coming off him, and you press your palm to his chest, right over his heart, feeling it thud against your hand.
You set your phone down on the marble counter, angling it just so, the red recording light blinking like a heartbeat in the dim room. You want this captured, want the lens to swallow every moment of what comes next, want to watch it later and feel the heat crawl up your neck all over again. Jungkook's eyes flick to the device, understanding dawning dark and dangerous in his gaze, and when he looks back at you, something has shifted. The playful tension from the restaurant has evaporated, replaced by something heavier, hungrier, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.
You lean in, your hair falling forward, those two dark strands brushing his shoulder like silk curtains framing the moment. You don't go for the sushi yet. You press your mouth to his throat first, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough to make him groan deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your lips. His hand comes up to tangle in your updo, disheveling it further, fingers tightening in your hair until your scalp sings with the sting of it. You lick the salt from his skin, taste the cologne at his pulse point, the musk of him underneath, and you feel him shudder beneath your mouth, feel the sushi roll shift against your cheek as he breathes ragged and wrecked.
"You're insane," he murmurs, but his voice is already ruined, gravel and velvet, and you smile against his neck, teeth grazing his tendon, feeling his cock twitch against your hip through his trousers.
"Wait until you see what comes after the appetizer," you whisper, and finally, finally, you turn your head and take the sushi between your teeth, your eyes locked on his, watching him watch you, watching the way your lips close around the rice and fish, the way your throat works as you swallow, and the sound he makes is animal, guttural, something torn from deep in his chest that makes your thighs clench together with nothing but air between them.
He moves before you can even taste the wasabi. His hands find your waist and he's lifting you, setting you down on the cool marble counter like you weigh nothing, like you're something to be arranged, positioned, consumed. The stone bites against your bare thighs where your dress rides up, and you gasp, but the sound is swallowed by his mouth crashing against yours, the metal of his lip ring pressing hard into your flesh, cold and burning all at once. He tastes like sake and want and the promise of destruction, and you open for him, let him take, let him plunder your mouth with a desperation that makes your head spin.
"Look at you," he breathes against your jaw, his teeth dragging down your throat, sharp and claiming. "Look at you, playing with fire, recording this, thinking you're in control."
His hands find the thin straps of your teal dress, silk whispering against your skin like a secret. He doesn't rush. He takes his time, sliding the straps down your shoulders with agonizing slowness, his eyes tracking every inch of exposed flesh, his pupils blown wide and black with desire. The silk catches on your nipples for a heartbeat, clinging, teasing, and then it falls, smooth as water, pooling at your waist, and you're bare for him, your breasts heavy and full, nipples tight and aching in the cool hotel air, no barrier between his gaze and your skin.
He stares. The silence stretches, thick and electric, and you feel beautiful, powerful, laid out like a feast on this marble altar. His throat works, his hand coming up to cup you, weigh you, his thumb dragging across your nipple so slowly you whimper, arching into his touch.
"No bra," he observes, his voice rough, almost reverent. "You were planning this. Walking around that restaurant with nothing under this dress, teasing me, letting me wonder."
"I wanted you to wonder," you admit, your voice breathless, broken. "I wanted you to think about it all night."
"Evil," he murmurs, and then he's bending his head, his mouth closing over your nipple, hot and wet and devastating, and you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, gripping tight as he sucks, as his tongue circles and flicks and drives you mindless. He moves to the other breast, giving it the same worship, the same relentless attention, and you're squirming on the counter, your hips rolling, seeking friction, seeking him.
He pulls back with a wet sound that makes you blush even as you moan for more. His eyes are dark, predatory, the playful boyfriend from the restaurant gone, replaced by something that looks at you like you're prey, like you're his to ruin.
"Bed," he commands, his voice leaving no room for negotiation, no room for anything but obedience. "Now. On your back."
You slide off the counter, your legs shaky, the silk of your dress catching on your hips as you move. You cross to the bed, each step feeling like you're walking through honey, through heat, your body thrumming with anticipation. You climb onto the white sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin, and you lie back, your breasts falling to the sides, heavy and aching, your hair spilling across the pillows in waves.
He follows you, stalking across the room with a predator's grace, all bare chest and ink and the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. He stops at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over you, devouring you, and then he reaches for your phone still sitting on the counter, brings it with him, sets it on the nightstand angled perfectly to capture everything, the red light blinking like a third heartbeat in the room.
"Keep it recording," he says, not a request but a decree. "I want you to watch this later. I want you to see what you look like when you're being fucked properly."
He undoes his belt with slow, deliberate movements, the leather hissing as he pulls it free, the metal clinking as he drops it to the floor. His trousers follow, and his underwear, and then he's naked, glorious, his cock thick and heavy and curving up toward his stomach, the tip already wet with arousal, the veins along the shaft prominent and pulsing. You can't help but stare, can't help but lick your lips at the sight of him, at the thought of taking him inside you, anywhere, everywhere.
He climbs onto the bed, crawling up your body like a storm rolling in, all dark intent and coiled power. He doesn't touch you where you want him most, not yet. Instead, he straddles your chest, his knees settling on either side of your ribs, his hands bracing on the headboard above you, caging you in, trapping you beneath him. You can smell him, musk and sweat and something uniquely Jungkook, can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the weight of him hovering above you.
"Look at you," he breathes, his hand coming down to grip himself, to stroke once, twice, the sight obscene and mesmerizing. "Look at these perfect tits. Do you know how many times I've thought about this? About fucking them? About painting you with my cum?"
You whimper, arching up, and he takes that as invitation, as permission. He leans forward, guiding himself down, the hot, heavy weight of his cock settling into the valley between your breasts, skin against skin, velvet over steel. He groans, long and low, his head falling back, the column of his throat working as he begins to move.
He starts slow, rocking his hips, sliding himself through your cleavage, the friction making him hiss, making his abs tighten and flex with each thrust. You press your breasts together, creating a tighter channel for him, and he groans your name like a prayer, like a curse, his pace quickening, his hips snapping faster, harder. The head of his cock peeks out from between your breasts with each forward thrust, glistening and flushed, and you crane your neck, wanting to taste, wanting to lick the salt from his skin, but he pulls back just enough to deny you, a wicked smile playing at his lips.
"Greedy," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their rhythm, his control fraying at the edges. "So fucking greedy for it. You want this? Want me to cum all over you? Mark you?"
"Yes," you gasp, your own arousal spiraling tight and hot between your legs, the sight of him using you, losing himself in your body, driving you wild. "Yes, please, Jungkook, please-"
He breaks. His hips stutter, his hand gripping the headboard so tight his knuckles go white, and he comes with a shout that sounds torn from his soul, thick ropes of cum spilling across your chest, your throat, marking you, claiming you in the most primal way. He keeps thrusting through it, milking himself, his cock twitching against your skin, until he's spent, until he's trembling above you, his chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his inked shoulders.
The silence that follows is broken only by your ragged breathing, by the wet sounds of him still sliding against your cum-slicked skin. He looks down at you, at the mess he's made of you, and his eyes flash with something dark and satisfied, something possessive.
"Beautiful," he whispers, his hand coming down to smear the evidence of his pleasure across your breasts, your nipples, making you glisten with him. "So fucking beautiful."
He reaches over to the takeout box still sitting on the counter, forgotten until now, and retrieves another piece of spicy tuna, the fish still cool, still perfect. He brings it to your chest, and you watch, breathless, as he places it carefully on top of your nipple, the sushi resting there like an offering, like sacrilege.
He bends his head, his eyes locked on yours, and takes the sushi between his teeth, his tongue dragging across your nipple as he does, hot and wet and filthy, sucking the fish and your flesh together, the combination of sensations making you cry out, making your back arch off the bed. He chews slowly, savoring, his hand coming up to palm your other breast, his thumb circling your nipple, spreading his own release across your skin in obscene patterns.
When he swallows, he surges up, his mouth crashing against yours with a ferocity that steals your breath, his tongue thrusting deep, sharing the taste of tuna and salt and him, his teeth catching your lower lip, the metal of his piercing dragging against your sensitive flesh. He kisses you like he's starving, like he wants to consume you whole, like the camera isn't even there, like the world has narrowed down to just this, just you, just the wet heat of his mouth and the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.
"Mine," he growls against your lips, the word vibrating through your chest, through your bones. "Say it."
"Yours," you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging crescents into his inked skin. "I'm yours, Jungkook, I'm-"
He cuts you off with another kiss, deeper, harder, his hand sliding down your body, beneath the silk of your dress still pooled at your waist, finding where you're wet and aching and ready, and you know this is only the beginning, know that the night is long and the camera is still rolling and he's nowhere near finished with you.
He pulls back from the kiss with a wet, filthy sound that echoes in the quiet room, his eyes dark and glittering with intent. His hand is still between your legs, his fingers spreading your wetness in slow, teasing circles, and you arch into his touch, desperate, needy, your hips rolling to chase more friction.
"Give me the phone," he commands, his voice rough as gravel, as velvet, as something dangerous wrapped in silk.
You reach for it with trembling fingers, the device still warm from where it sat recording, and you hand it to him, your breath catching as he takes it, as he adjusts the angle, as he points the lens down at you like he's directing a film where you're the only star.
"Look at you," he murmurs, the camera capturing everything, capturing the flush spreading down your chest, the way your breasts rise and fall with each ragged breath, the sheen of sweat and his release still glistening on your skin. "Look at this fucking body. Do you see what I see? Do you see how perfect you are?"
He shifts back on his knees, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and he hooks his fingers in the silk of your dress still pooled at your waist. He pulls slowly, agonizingly slowly, the fabric sliding down your hips, your thighs, leaving you completely bare, completely exposed to the lens, to his gaze, to the hungry darkness in his eyes.
"Spread your legs," he orders, and you do, your knees falling open, your thighs trembling as the cool hotel air hits your heated core. You feel exposed, vulnerable, the camera recording every inch of you, the way your pussy glistens with arousal, swollen and pink and aching for him. He zooms in, the lens close enough to capture the details, the way you pulse with need, the way your thighs are already shaking with anticipation.
"Beautiful," he breathes, the word almost reverent, almost profane. "Look at this pretty pussy. So wet for me. So fucking ready."
He sets the phone down on the mattress, angled up at you both, the red light blinking steady and watchful. But then he's reaching for your hand, pulling you up, placing the device in your trembling grip.
"Hold it," he instructs, his voice dropping lower, filthier, his eyes locked on yours with a command that brooks no argument. "Record me. Don't you dare stop filming, understand? I want you to capture every second of this. I want you to watch later and see exactly what you do to me."
You nod, your throat too tight to speak, and you angle the camera down, your fingers shaking as you focus the lens on him, on where he's settling between your thighs like he belongs there, like he's coming home.
He looks up at you through his lashes, that silver lip ring catching the light, and he knows, he always knows what that piece of metal does to you. He runs his tongue over it slowly, deliberately, letting you watch the way it moves, the way it glints, and your breath hitches because you can feel it already, can imagine the cool metal against your overheated flesh.
"You like this?" he asks, his voice a purr, a promise, a threat. "You like watching me? Like knowing I'm about to wreck you with this mouth?"
"Yes," you whimper, the camera trembling in your grip as you hold it steady, as you capture every moment.
He starts at your knee, his mouth hovering, his breath hot against your skin. He blows, a gentle stream of air that makes you gasp, makes your leg jerk in his grip. He holds you steady, his fingers digging into your thigh, and he drags his lips up, up, not touching, just breathing, just letting you feel the ghost of him, the promise of him.
He reaches the crease where your thigh meets your hip and he pauses, his eyes flicking up to the camera, to you, holding your gaze as he blows again, right there, right where you're throbbing, where you're aching, where you're dripping for him.
"Please," you beg, your voice breaking, the camera shaking in your hand. "Please, Jungkook, please touch me-"
"Shh," he soothes, his breath washing over your clit, hot and cool and devastating. "I've got you. Be patient, pretty girl. Be good."
He blows again, directly on your clit this time, the sensation shocking, electric, making you cry out, your hips bucking off the mattress. He holds you down with one hand on your stomach, pinning you, controlling you, and he leans closer, closer, until you can feel his breath fluttering against your most sensitive flesh, until you're trembling, until you're sobbing with need.
"Look at the camera," he commands, his voice vibrating against your thigh. "Don't look at me. Look at the lens. Show them how pretty you are when you're desperate."
You force your eyes up, staring into the small black circle of the phone's camera, your vision blurred with tears, your mouth open, your chest heaving. You look wrecked, you know you do, you can see your reflection in the dark screen, can see the way your hair is tangled and wild, the way your lips are swollen and red, the way your body is flushed pink with arousal.
"Good girl," he praises, and then he finally, finally, touches you.
His tongue drags through your folds in one long, slow stroke, hot and wet and perfect, and you scream, the sound tearing from your throat, your hips bucking against his mouth. He groans against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine, and he does it again, and again, lapping at you like he's starving, like he wants to taste every drop of your arousal, like he could spend hours here, drowning in you.
He focuses on your clit, circling it with the flat of his tongue, then the tip, then flicking it, relentless, merciless, driving you higher and higher until you're panting, until you're chanting his name like a prayer, like a curse, until your thighs are trembling on either side of his head.
"So fucking loud," he murmurs against you, the words muffled, filthy. "Let them hear you. Let the whole fucking hotel hear what I'm doing to you."
He pulls back just enough to speak, his chin glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark and wild. "Keep recording. Don't you dare stop."
You nod frantically, your hand cramping around the phone, but you hold it steady, you keep the lens focused on him, on where he's watching you with predatory intensity.
He slides one finger inside you, slow and deliberate, curling it to find that spot that makes your vision white out, and you moan, long and loud, unable to help yourself. He adds a second finger, stretching you, filling you, and he starts to pump them in and out, his wrist twisting, his knuckles dragging against your walls in a way that makes you see stars.
"More," you gasp, your head falling back, but he clicks his tongue, sharp and reprimanding.
"Eyes on the camera," he reminds you, his voice stern, commanding. "Look at me through the lens. Show me that pretty face."
You force your head up, your neck trembling with the effort, and you stare into the camera, your eyes wide and glassy, your mouth open as you pant. He adds a third finger, the stretch burning so perfectly you sob, your hips rolling to meet his thrusts, and he starts rubbing your clit with his other hand, circling it in tight, relentless patterns while his fingers work inside you, while he crooks them to hit that spot, that perfect spot, over and over and over.
"You're taking three fingers so well," he praises, his voice dripping with filth, with pride. "Look at you, stuffed full, dripping down my hand. You love this, don't you? Love being watched, love being used, love being my little porn star."
"Yes," you cry out, the camera shaking as your orgasm builds, coiling tight and hot in your belly. "Yes, yes, Jungkook, please, I'm gonna-"
"Not yet," he cuts you off, his fingers stilling, his hand pulling away from your clit, leaving you hovering on the edge, desperate and whining. "Not until I say. Keep holding that camera. Keep recording. I want to see your face when you cum all over my tongue."
He dives back in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue thrusting inside you, fucking you with wet heat while his thumb presses hard against your clit, rubbing in furious circles. The dual sensation is too much, overwhelming, devastating, and you're screaming now, loud and unrestrained, your voice raw as you chant his name, as you beg, as you plead for release.
"Jungkook, please, please, I can't, I need to-"
"Cum," he commands, the word vibrating against your core. "Cum for me now. Let me taste it. Let me drink you down."
He sucks your clit into his mouth, the metal of his lip ring pressing hard against the sensitive bud, and you break. Your orgasm crashes through you like a wave, like a storm, like something violent and beautiful and earth-shattering. Your back arches off the bed, your thighs clamping around his head, your hand spasming around the phone as you cry out, loud and broken and his, completely his.
He doesn't stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing out your pleasure until you're shaking, until you're sobbing, until you're pushing at his shoulders because it's too much, too sensitive, too everything.
He finally pulls back with a wet, obscene sound, his chin dripping with your release, his eyes dark and satisfied and wild. He looks at the camera, looks directly into the lens where you're still recording, still capturing every filthy moment, and he licks his lips, slow and deliberate, savoring your taste.
"Delicious," he murmurs, the word dripping with innuendo, with promise. "My favorite meal."
He crawls up your body, his skin hot against yours, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that tastes like you, like him, like everything dirty and perfect and yours. The camera is still recording, still capturing, still blinking its red light in the dark room, and you know, you know this is a night you'll be watching back for years, a night that will never stop making you blush, making you ache, making you want.
"Good girl," he whispers against your lips, his hand tangling in your hair, his body heavy and warm above you. "You did so well. You held it the whole time."
He takes the phone from your trembling grip, checks the recording, a smug, satisfied smile playing at his lips. "Perfect angle. Look at you, pretty thing. Look how beautiful you are when you cum."
He shows you the screen, and you watch yourself, watch your face contort with pleasure, watch your body arch and shake, and you feel the heat crawl up your neck even as you feel yourself getting wet again, already wanting more, already wanting everything he has to give.
He pulls you up, his hands rough at your waist, flipping you until you're straddling him, your knees bracketing his hips, your hands braced on his inked chest. The sweat-slick slide of your skin against his is electric, devastating, and you can feel him hard and thick beneath you, pressing against your thigh, leaving wet trails of pre-cum against your skin.
"Come here," he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling you down until your mouths crash together, teeth clicking, tongues tangling in a messy, desperate dance. He tastes like you, like sake, like the lingering spice of tuna and salt and sex, and you moan into his mouth, your hips rolling instinctively, grinding your soaked core against his rigid length.
"Fuck," he breathes against your lips, his hips bucking up to meet you, the friction making you both gasp. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good."
You reach for the takeout box still within arm's reach, your fingers trembling as you unwrap another piece of spicy tuna, the fish cool and glistening in the dim light. You break the kiss, sitting back on your heels, and his eyes track your movements, dark and questioning, until you lean forward and place the sushi directly on his nipple, the pink flesh peeking through the dark ink of his chest tattoo.
"Christ," he hisses, his head falling back against the pillows, his throat working as you bend down, your hair creating a curtain around you both.
You take the sushi between your teeth first, biting down, the flavor bursting across your tongue, but then you keep going, your mouth closing over his nipple, sucking hard, laving it with your tongue, the combination of cool fish and hot skin making him arch off the bed, his hand flying to your head, gripping tight.
"Oh fuck," he groans, long and low, the sound vibrating through his chest into your mouth. "Oh fuck, baby, fuck-"
You suck harder, your teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and he cries out, his hips jerking up, his cock sliding through your folds, bumping against your clit with each thrust of his hips. You release his nipple with a wet pop, looking up at him through your lashes, your lips swollen and glistening.
"You like that?" you purr, your voice dripping with filth, with power. "Like me eating off you? Like being my plate, my meal?"
"Yes," he pants, his eyes blown wide, his chest heaving. "Fuck yes, anything, everything-"
You start grinding in earnest, rolling your hips, sliding your soaked pussy along the length of his cock without letting him inside, teasing, torturing, your clit dragging against his rigid shaft with every movement. The friction is delicious, maddening, and you're both moaning, the sounds filling the room, raw and unfiltered.
"Oh fuck, baby," he chants, his hands gripping your waist, your hips, guiding your movements, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "Oh fuck, just like that, just like that-"
You lean down, your breasts pressing against his chest, your mouth at his ear. "Feel how wet I am?" you whisper, your voice a dirty secret. "Feel how much I need you? I've been dripping for you all night, Jungkook. All fucking night."
"Shit," he groans, his hips stuttering, losing their rhythm. "Shit, you're gonna make me cum like this, make me-"
He reaches for the phone, his hand trembling as he angles it up at you, capturing the way you move above him, the way your body undulates like a wave, like something primal and ancient and devastatingly beautiful.
"Look at this," he murmurs, his voice wrecked, his eyes flicking between the screen and your face. "Look at you, grinding on me like a little slut, so desperate for it. You want this cock, baby? Want me to fill you up?"
"Yes," you whine, your movements becoming erratic, desperate. "Please, please, I need it, need you inside-"
He drops the phone to the mattress, the camera still recording, still capturing everything, and he grips your hips hard, lifting you, positioning you above him. You reach between your bodies, your hand wrapping around his thick length, guiding him to your entrance, and you sink down slowly, inch by inch, your head falling back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he stretches you, fills you, completes you.
"Fuck," you gasp, your hands braced on his chest, your nails digging crescents into his skin. "Oh fuck, Jungkook, you're so big, so-"
"Move," he commands, his voice guttural, his hands guiding your hips. "Ride me, baby. Show me how good you are."
You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles, feeling every inch of him drag against your walls, hitting places that make your vision blur. He keeps one hand on your hip, guiding you, controlling the pace, while the other reaches for your breast, palming the heavy weight, his thumb dragging across your nipple.
"The sushi wasn't the rawest thing tonight," he breathes, his eyes locked on yours, dark and possessive. "This is. You and me, like this, nothing between us. Just raw, filthy fucking."
You moan, your movements speeding up, your hips snapping down harder, taking him deeper, until he's hitting your cervix with each thrust, the stretch bordering on pain but feeling so perfect you can't stop. He grabs the phone again, angling it up at you, capturing your face contorted with pleasure, your breasts bouncing with each movement, the place where your bodies join, wet and obscene.
"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice reverent and filthy all at once. "Look at you, taking me so well. My perfect girl."
He flips you suddenly, his strength shocking, his movements fluid and predatory. You're on your back before you can process the shift, him settling between your thighs, his cock still buried deep inside you, his hands bracing on either side of your head.
"Recording," he commands, pressing the phone into your trembling hand. "Don't stop. I want you to see this. Want you to watch later and see exactly how I fuck you."
You hold it up, the lens focused on where your bodies meet, and he pulls out slowly, agonizingly slowly, until just the tip remains inside you, glistening with your combined arousal. He hovers there, teasing, and you whimper, your hips bucking up, seeking more.
"Quiet," he orders, his voice sharp. "Be quiet and listen. Listen to how wet you are for me."
He thrusts back in, hard and deep, and the sound is obscene, wet and filthy, your arousal squelching around him, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. You bite your lip to keep from screaming, your hand shaking as you hold the camera steady, capturing the way he pulls out and thrusts back in, over and over, the rhythm building, the sounds growing louder, wetter, more desperate.
He pulls out completely, his cock slapping against your stomach, wet and heavy, and he drags the head through your folds, bumping against your clit, circling it, teasing it with short, sharp jabs that make you cry out despite your best efforts to stay quiet.
"Please," you beg, your voice breaking. "Please, Jungkook, please fuck me, please-"
He lines himself up and thrusts back in, but this time he doesn't stop, doesn't slow, doesn't tease. He starts pounding into you, hard and fast and merciless, his hips snapping forward with a force that moves you up the bed, your head hitting the headboard with each thrust. He's fucking you like he hates you, like he loves you, like he wants to crawl inside your skin and never leave.
"Scream," he commands, his voice ragged, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, just reminding you who you belong to. "Let me hear you. Let the fucking city hear what I'm doing to you."
You scream. You can't help it, the pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming, building and coiling tight in your belly, your orgasm approaching like a freight train. He's recording your face, the camera capturing your mouth open in a silent scream, your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your temples into your hair.
"That's it," he pants, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their rhythm as he chases his own release. "That's it, baby, cum for me, cum on my cock, let me feel you-"
You break. Your orgasm crashes through you, violent and beautiful, your pussy clamping down on him, milking him, and he groans, long and loud, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick and endless. But as you come, as your body convulses around him, something else happens, something wet and shocking, and you're squirting, actually squirting, your release gushing out around his cock, mixing with his cum, creating a mess of fluids that soaks the sheets, his thighs, drips down your ass.
"Holy shit," he breathes, his eyes wide and wild, the camera still recording, capturing the obscene flood of liquid, the way it glistens on his skin, the way your body continues to shake and convulse. "Holy fucking shit, baby, look at you, look at this-"
He pulls out slowly, his cock still half-hard, dripping with your combined release, and he holds it up, angling the camera to capture the mess, the way his cum mixed with your arousal drips from his shaft, thick and white and obscene.
"Suck it," he commands, his voice rough, his hand tangling in your hair. "Suck your cum off my cock. Clean me up, kitten."
You scramble down, your body still trembling from aftershocks, and you take him into your mouth, tasting yourself, tasting him, the mixture salty and musky and filthy. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard, your tongue swirling around his sensitive head, and he groans, his hand tightening in your hair.
"Fuck, yes," he pants. "My balls, kitten, suck my balls."
You pull back, your hand wrapping around his shaft, and you duck down, taking one testicle into your mouth, then the other, rolling them on your tongue, sucking gently while your hand works his length. He pulls your hair, guiding you, his hips bucking slightly, and then you pull back, kitten licking him, small, teasing laps at the head of his cock, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes, innocent and filthy all at once.
"Perfect kitten," he breathes, his voice wrecked, his eyes dark with renewed desire. "My perfect little kitten. Look at you, so eager, so good for me."
He starts fucking into your mouth, his hand guiding your head, his hips snapping forward, pushing his cock deep into your throat, and you relax, let him use you, let him take what he needs. He's relentless, his stamina shocking, and you can feel him swelling, feel him getting close again.
"I'm gonna cum," he warns, his voice strained. "Gonna cum again, baby, gonna-"
He thrusts deep and holds there, his cock pulsing, and he spills down your throat, hot and thick, more than you thought possible, more than should be human. You swallow, your throat working, your eyes watering, and when he finally pulls out, spent and trembling, you collapse back onto the pillows, laughing, the sound breathless and beautiful and disbelieving.
"I can't believe you had all that cum inside you," you marvel, your voice hoarse, your lips swollen and glistening. "That was... that was the third time?"
He collapses beside you, his chest heaving, his skin flushed and sweaty and marked by your nails, your teeth, your possession. He pulls you into his arms, his hand cradling your head against his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering, feel the rumble of his laughter.
"For you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your hair. "Only for you, pretty girl. You drain me completely. You ruin me."
The phone is still recording somewhere on the bed, still capturing the aftermath, the sweat-slick mess of your bodies, the way you curl into each other like survivors of some beautiful storm. But for now, you just breathe, just exist in this moment of shattered, perfect aftermath, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest, his hand stroking lazy circles on your back.
He doesn't ask. He just moves, shifting off the bed with a grace that seems impossible for someone who just spent himself three times over. You hear water running in the bathroom, the sound of a cloth being wrung out, and then he's back, kneeling between your thighs with a warm, wet towel in his hand.
He cleans you slowly, carefully, his touch reverent where it had been ruthless before. He wipes away the mess of your combined release, the sweat, the evidence of everything you did together, and his eyes follow the path of the cloth with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. He presses kisses to your inner thigh, your hip, your stomach, each one soft and lingering, worshipping you in a different language than the one he used when he was inside you.
When he's finished, he tosses the cloth aside and crawls up your body, his weight settling over you again, but different now, protective, cocooning. He finds your mouth, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that tastes like salt and love and exhaustion. He bites your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth, pulling slightly until you whimper, and then he releases you with a laugh, low and warm and vibrating against your skin.
"Beautiful," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw like he's memorizing you, like he's trying to commit every inch to memory. "You're so fucking beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know what you do to me?"
You smile, your hand coming up to tangle in his hair, still damp with sweat. "Show me," you whisper back.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you, his eyes dark and endless and full of something that makes your breath catch. He cups your face in both hands, his thumbs brushing over your swollen lips, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, stripped bare, nothing but truth.
"I fucking love you," he says. "I love you so much it scares me."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy and real and perfect, and you pull him down, kiss him deep and slow, pouring everything you can't say into the movement of your lips against his.
The camera is still recording somewhere, still blinking its red light in the dark, but neither of you reach for it. Some moments are just for you. Just for this. Just for the two of you, tangled in white sheets in a Miami hotel room, sweating and spent and in love, the rawest thing either of you have ever known.
