𓊆 ❤︎ 𓊇 ──── seven powerful businessmen have the luxury, the influence and anything they could ever desire — yet none of it makes them feel alive anymore. that is, until they become captivated by a waitress who awakens something inside them for the first time in years. drawn in by your presence, they offer you one night of passion and pleasure in exchange for money, never expecting it to end in such an unforgettable way.
PAIRING ✦ dom!bts x sub!f.reader
GENRE ✦ gangbang au, BDSM, polyamory, eightsome, porn with little plot, smut, fluff
WARNINGS ✦ 18+, explicit smut, consensual rough sex, eightsome, multiple orgasms and positions, creampie, unprotected sex, free use, semipublic sex, breeding and impregnation kink, degradation, power play, size difference, bondage, reader gets passed around, oral sex (f. receiving), double penetration, triple penetration, vaginal and anal sex, anal training, spanking, impact play (use of hands, belts etc), choking and breath play, possible use of sex toys, overstimulation, forced orgasms, cum inflation and belly bulging, pussy eating and fingering, squirting, wet & messy sex, body worship, dirty talk, fisting and gaping, breast play, mentions of safe word (not used), oral sex (m. receiving), sloppy blowjob, throat fucking, manhandling, use of lube and saliva, cum stuffing, use of belt as a collar, reader takes three cocks at the same time, sweetest loving aftercare, more tags to be added...
WC ✦ 20k+ ( estimated )
NOTE ✦ 5k followers special oneshot as i promised to you babes *MWAAAH*
summary: looking for a decent job, you stumbled upon jungkook’s job posting on instagram, what could go wrong?
warnings: playfuldom!jungkook x fem reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, pussy eating, edging, spitting, degradation, dirty talk, multiple positions, detailed smut, jk is very playful in a degrading way, oral sex, camera sex, pussy slapping, choking, praising, usage of slut, cum eating, marking, multiple orgasms, rough sex, crying, overstimulation, fingering, nipple spitting, penetrative sex, creampie.
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“How about being a barista again? There’s a job opening at Moonlit Cafe down the street,” Hari suggested while you sat hunched over your laptop, endlessly browsing through job postings.
You were still a student, graduating next year with bills clawing at your throat. When college started, you wanted independence so badly it ached beneath your skin. An apartment near the university...your own keys, your own groceries and your own life.
Your parents had offered to cover everything without hesitation, gentle and loving as always, but guilt settled heavily in your chest whenever you thought about it. They were already paying your tuition fees. You wanted them to live comfortably too, without worrying about whether their daughter had enough money for rent or food. So you smiled and told them not to worry, drained your savings account for the apartment, and picked up multiple part-time jobs just to prove to yourself that you could survive on your own.
And for a while, you did.
The first two years of college went smoothly enough. You found decent jobs, saved enough money to live comfortably, and even bought yourself a flat-screen TV after months of careful budgeting. Your days blurred into exhausting routines—classes in the morning, shifts at the coffee shop at night, and weekends spent organizing shelves as a bookstore assistant.
You were tired all the time, but it was a satisfying kind of tired. The kind that made you feel accomplished.
Until the coffee shop let you go.
Budget cuts, they said apologetically, avoiding your eyes while handing you the notice. Part-time workers were the first to go.
You still had the bookstore job, but the pay barely stretched far enough to cover groceries, let alone rent, electricity, and university expenses. Asking your parents for help would’ve been easy...too easy—but stubbornness rooted itself deep inside you. There were thousands of job postings online. Surely one of them would take you.
Only they never called back.
Two months had passed, and your savings were bleeding out faster than you could stop them. Every day followed the same suffocating routine: school, assignments, cheap instant dinners, and hours of doom-scrolling through applications until your vision blurred from the brightness of your screen.
You groaned quietly, rubbing your tired eyes before glancing over at Hari, who sat cross-legged beside you on the couch with a milk tea in hand. She had shown up at your apartment earlier carrying takeout bags and your favorite boba, worry written plainly across her face after noticing how little you’d been eating lately.
“I already applied there,” you muttered with a pout, dragging your gaze back to the laptop. “But they want someone full-time.”
Hari sighed dramatically, setting her drink down on the coffee table. “You seriously need to rest. You’ve been staring at that thing for hours.”
Before you could protest, she grabbed your boba and pushed it into your hands. The cold plastic pressed against your palms pleasantly.
“Drink,” she ordered. “And let me do the scrolling before you spiral into another existential crisis.”
A laugh bubbled out of her as she pulled the laptop from your lap, and despite the anxiety twisting endlessly inside your chest, you felt your shoulders loosen just a little.
You pouted lightly, sipping your boba while Hari busied herself with your laptop. Your brows slowly furrowed when you noticed her opening tab after tab with alarming confidence.
“Why are you on Facebook?” you asked with a quiet chuckle, watching her click somewhere else before another page loaded. “And now Twitter? Instagram too?”
Hari rolled her eyes dramatically, her face illuminated by the screen’s pale glow. “Because the jobs on LinkedIn are painfully boring,” she scoffed. “There are tons of part-time job offers on social media. I swear I saw one yesterday.”
She narrowed her eyes at the laptop suspiciously, scrolling with the intensity of a detective solving a murder case.
A laugh escaped you as you leaned against her shoulder, chewing on the tapioca pearls you had missed more than you cared to admit. You’d been saving every spare dollar lately, cutting out small comforts one by one until even buying boba started to feel irresponsible.
“But you don’t even know if those are legit,” you pointed out, tilting your head at her. “The sites I applied to are safer from scams and stuff.”
“I know,” Hari replied instantly. “That’s why we’re looking for jobs with a pay-first policy if it’s online.” She clicked onto another account before adding casually, “And if it’s onsite, we’ll bring a gun in case things go wrong or something.”
You burst out laughing at that, nearly choking on your drink.
“Hari!”
“What?” she laughed too, grinning shamelessly. “I’m just being prepared.”
You shook your head at her usual nonsense, warmth blooming faintly in your chest despite the stress that had been suffocating you for weeks now. Hari always had a way of dragging you out of your own head, even if only for a little while.
The apartment suddenly felt less heavy with her around.
You were honestly relieved that semester break had finally arrived. One whole month without classes, no early morning lectures, no deadlines and no professors piling work onto your shoulders.
But instead of resting like a normal person, you had thrown yourself deeper into job hunting.
Hari hated that.
As your closest friend, she had spent the last week trying to convince you to take a break—to go shopping with the girls, take an out-of-town trip, do literally anything that didn’t involve staring at job applications until three in the morning.
You declined every single invitation.
Your friends understood your situation, but they also thought you were driving yourself insane. Which, honestly...you probably were.
That was exactly why Hari showed up tonight carrying your favorite food and overpriced boba tea, determined to drag you away from your spiral. She kept trying to tempt you into going on a girls’ trip with them, insisting that one weekend away wouldn’t kill you.
But every time you thought about relaxing, all you could picture were your bills piling quietly on the kitchen counter. So instead, you stayed curled up on the couch beside her, stubbornly searching for a job you desperately needed.
Hari was beginning to look almost as desperate as you. Maybe not for herself, but for you—for the way your shoulders had slowly grown heavier these past few months, for the exhaustion permanently shadowing your eyes. She wanted you to land a job already so you could finally breathe again without worrying about rent and unpaid bills swallowing you whole.
Which was exactly why she was now doom-scrolling through Twitter with frightening determination.
“I really don’t think you’re gonna find a job there,” you muttered skeptically, watching her open an alarming amount of random threads. “Most of those look like scams.”
“Wait, wait—look at this!”
Hari suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to the screen, quickly setting her milk tea down beside her like she was preparing for something serious.
Her eyes widened.
“Okay, this one actually looks promising.”
You leaned in slightly as she read aloud.
mnijungkook on ig posted: i’m looking for someone who can take insanely good videos and photos [of me]. i’ll somehow figure out the equipment myself..! please somehow reach out to me! lol, looking for someone to film for me, seriously. and if you’re good at editing too? let’s go on tour together
“There are so many likes and retweets,” Hari said immediately, already opening another tab to search for the original Instagram post. “This has to be legit.”
The second you recognized the username, you nearly choked on your drink.
Laughter burst out of you uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as you clutched the cup tighter. Hari blinked at you in confusion while your eyes watered from laughing too hard.
“Hari,” you wheezed out, “That’s Jungkook.”
She stared blankly. “Huh? The boss?”
Another laugh escaped you.
Hari genuinely knew almost nothing about K-pop or Korean artists in general, and moments like this always reminded you just how different the two of you were.
Meanwhile, you had once been painfully obsessed.
You used to stay up until dawn watching livestreams, memorizing lyrics, collecting photocards you definitely couldn’t afford, and keeping up with every tiny update posted online. Back then, being a fan felt like a second full-time job.
But life eventually became busier.
School consumed your mornings, work consumed your nights, and somewhere in between surviving deadlines and paying bills, your fangirl phase quietly faded into the background. You still listened to their music almost daily, still smiled whenever one of their songs shuffled into your playlist, but you no longer kept up with every post or appearance the way you once did.
You guessed you had simply grown up.
Even so, seeing Jungkook casually asking for a videographer and editor on Instagram felt surreal enough to make you laugh all over again.
Not updated enough to know that Jungkook was apparently posting job offers on Instagram now. Or that he was even on tour.
“No,” you laughed, shaking your head as you finally calmed down a little. “That’s Jungkook. From BTS. They’re, like… insanely famous, Hari. This is probably some kind of joke or publicity thing.”
Hari’s brows knitted together in confusion before realization slowly dawned across her face. She clicked onto the Instagram profile, eyes widening at the blue verification check and the terrifying number of followers sitting beneath his username.
Nearly thirty million.
“Ohhh, BTS,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Wait—I think I’ve seen him before.” She squinted at one of the photos. “Wasn’t he in a Calvin Klein ad or something?”
You snorted. “Yeah. That’s him.”
Honestly, you expected her to laugh it off after realizing who posted it. Maybe call the idea ridiculous and move on to another job listing.
Instead, Hari clicked onto his Instagram story again with alarming seriousness.
“That means…” she trailed off.
“It’s probably a joke,” you interrupted immediately.
“This is good pay,” she said at the exact same time, eyes practically glittering now.
Before you could stop her, she pressed the reply button beneath the story.
Your lips parted slightly. You genuinely couldn’t tell if she was being serious or completely delusional right now...probably both. But either way, you let her continue typing because there was absolutely no chance Jungkook himself would ever see it.
He probably received thousands of messages every minute. Millions, even.
The thought alone felt ridiculous.
“Whatever,” you muttered with a helpless chuckle, giving up entirely. “I’m heating up the rice bowl.”
Hari waved you off distractedly, already multitasking between your laptop and her phone like this had suddenly become her personal mission.
You shook your head fondly before standing from the couch, grabbing the takeout container she bought earlier. The apartment filled with the quiet hum of the microwave a moment later, warm light spilling across the tiny kitchen while Hari continued aggressively applying for a job that definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent was never going to happen.
-
You woke up to the shrill sound of your alarm, already preparing yourself for another long day of job hunting.
Hari went home late last night after spending an absurd amount of time DMing Jungkook and scrolling through social media for more “opportunities,” as she called them. Somewhere between laughing at ridiculous job listings and sharing takeout on your couch, the two of you ended up watching an old Disney movie to help you relax.
She still tried convincing you to go on the girls’ out-of-town trip. You still refused.
No matter how badly you wanted a break, your priorities were painfully clear right now. You needed stability first. A stable paycheck and a stable life. Then maybe you could afford to breathe.
After showering, you made yourself a decent cup of coffee and opened your laptop with a tired sigh, mentally preparing to send out another batch of applications that probably wouldn’t get answered.
Then your phone buzzed beside you. An Instagram notification lit up the screen.
You snorted softly to yourself. “This must be Jungkook,” you joked under your breath, absentmindedly opening the app.
What the fuck.
Your heart nearly stopped when you saw the message sitting in your inbox. The coffee suddenly tasted bitter in your mouth.
What the actual fuck?
“Hari!” you practically shrieked the second she answered your call. “Fuck! I don’t even edit videos! I only know basic stuff! I can’t even record properly without my hands shaking!”
You paced around your apartment while panicking into the phone, one hand gripping your hair as you reread the messages over and over again in disbelief.
Sometime after you went to the kitchen last night, Hari had apparently taken it upon herself to completely ruin your life.
She sent Jungkook your entire curriculum vitae.
Not only that—she also wrote and attached a full cover letter explaining why he should hire you.
The realization alone nearly made you pass out.
And when you discovered she had changed your insta profile picture into a formal-looking one while you weren’t paying attention?
You almost laughed and cried at the same time.
It genuinely looked like you had desperately prepared for this opportunity your entire life.
Your eyes skimmed through the cover letter again, horror slowly mixing with something embarrassingly emotional. Hari had written your entire backstory in there—about struggling financially, balancing school and work, trying to stay independent despite everything.
And then she started lying. Blatantly.
Apparently, according to Hari, you were “highly skilled in video editing” with “experience in cinematography.”
Cinematography my ass.
“Hehe… well,” Hari giggled shamelessly through the phone, completely unbothered by your spiraling. Noise echoed behind her, voices and music blending together enough for you to realize she was already with the girls on their trip. “You have to fake a few things to get accepted sometimes, right?”
“Ugh, I can’t do this!” you cried dramatically, pacing back and forth around your apartment while gripping your phone tightly. “I literally don’t know anything about filming! And what if he sues me for faking my skills? He’s famous and influential, Hari!”
Your eyes darted back toward your laptop sitting open on the table, Jungkook’s message glowing on the screen like a ticking time bomb ready to ruin your entire life.
Hari only laughed harder through the call.
“Girl, just try!” she said between giggles. “Watch a tutorial on YouTube or something. Besides…” her tone suddenly turned suspiciously persuasive, “It’s really good pay.”
“Hari!” you screamed again, horrified.
“God, I still can’t believe he actually replied to you,” she continued teasingly. “You must’ve impressed him with your amazing cinematography skills.”
You groaned so loudly you nearly scared yourself.
The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong about the pay.
Your eyes had nearly bulged out of your skull when you saw the amount attached to the offer. There were so many zeros that your brain genuinely short-circuited for a moment.
That was exactly why you couldn’t let it go.
Out of everyone who probably replied to his story, Jungkook somehow answered you.
You. The probability alone felt absurd.
Thousands of people would kill for this opportunity right now, and meanwhile you were pacing around your apartment like you were preparing for a court trial instead of a job offer.
At first, the teenage fangirl buried deep inside you nearly exploded from excitement. The situation dragged you back to years ago—staying up until four in the morning streaming music videos, binge-watching funny compilations, memorizing choreography you could never actually dance, spending money you absolutely shouldn’t have spent on albums and photocards.
Back then, BTS had practically consumed your life. But time passed.
Somewhere between work shifts, college deadlines, and trying to survive adulthood, you slowly stopped keeping up with them. You still listened to the music, of course, but you no longer knew where they were, what they were doing, or how much they had changed over the years.
Curiosity eventually got the better of you. So you stalked Jungkook’s Instagram a little.
And oh.
Oh, he had changed.
A full sleeve of tattoos now wrapped around his right arm, dark ink decorating skin that used to be bare. Silver piercings glinted against his face in ways that somehow suited him unfairly well. His frame had broadened too, shoulders stronger, body lean and built with the kind of maturity that made him almost unrecognizable from the boy you remembered.
You were used to soft brown hair, oversized hoodies, black skinny jeans, clean arms, and those wide doe-like eyes that made the entire internet lose their minds.
Now he looked mature, more dangerous somehow.
A man instead of a boy. And annoyingly enough, it looked really good on him.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, finally realizing you’d been staring at a motorcycle video he posted for far too long.
You immediately locked your phone and pressed it dramatically against your forehead.
“I cannot fangirl right now or I’m seriously gonna lose it.”
Hari kept telling you to just go for it. “You literally have a whole month off from school,” she argued over the phone while you spiraled for the hundredth time. “This is basically the perfect sideline job.”
Sideline job. As if working for Jungkook of BTS was equivalent to tutoring kids after class.
Your stomach twisted anxiously as you stared at the message again. Every second that passed made you feel like the opportunity was slipping farther away. With the amount of people probably flooding his inbox right now, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind the moment someone actually qualified replied to him.
Your eyes skimmed over his message again, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast.
mnijungkook: hey, i saw your cv ㅎㅎ you really didn’t have to explain everything, but i’m glad you did. i can tell you’re being genuine about this. even without samples, the way you talked about cinematography/editing made me feel like you actually care about it and pay attention to details. sometimes that matters more to me than someone trying too hard to look “professional”
also i get the whole semester break thing. a month is still enough time to try something fun and see if we work well together
don’t stress too much about equipment either because i barely know what i’m doing there yet lol
for payment, don’t worry. if you end up coming with me, i’ll make sure you’re paid well — probably around $20-30k usd for the month depending on the schedule + travel and hotel covered.
send me your contact info? we can talk more properly :))
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I am not passionate about cinematography,” you nearly whimpered to yourself, dropping your face into your hands. “To hell with cinematography.”
The amount of lies in Hari’s cover letter was genuinely evil.
And now Jungkook thought you were some hidden creative genius with an artistic eye and a deep love for filmmaking when in reality you barely knew how to stabilize a phone camera.
You felt sick.
But then your eyes drifted back to the payment offer. Twenty to thirty thousand dollars. Travel covered. Hotels covered. Your bank account practically screamed at you to shut up and take the opportunity.
So with trembling fingers and the overwhelming sensation that you were actively ruining your own life, you began typing a reply. A reply that dug your grave even deeper.
You agreed with him...agreed that you were a “good editor.”
You added your contact details while simultaneously praying that YouTube tutorials could somehow transform you into a professional videographer overnight.
Your fingers hovered above the send button before you forced yourself to press it.
You: thank you so much for even considering me :D i really do believe i’m a good editor, especially when it comes to making things feel natural and cinematic instead of overdone.
i’d genuinely love to work for you if you’ll have me. i’m willing to learn fast, adjust to whatever style you want, and work hard during the whole month of my semester break.
my contact details are below, thank you so much!
The message was sent instantly.
You stared at the screen in silence afterward, horror slowly settling into every inch of your body.
Yeah. You were doomed.
-
“Wow, what the hell.” Your eyes widened the second you stepped into the hotel room Jungkook had booked for you.
The past few days had moved so fast it almost gave you whiplash. After you sent your contact details, Jungkook immediately messaged you about schedules, filming dates, locations, and travel arrangements as if hiring strangers from Instagram was a completely normal thing for him to do.
Everything had already been prepared before you could even panic properly.
Your plane ticket? Booked.
Hotel room? Paid for.
Transportation? Arranged.
Food allowance? Included.
All you had to do was pack your bags and somehow learn how to film and edit professionally before embarrassing yourself on an international scale.
Easy.
“I am so spoiled,” you muttered in disbelief, slowly stepping farther into the room. It was huge.
Bigger than huge, honestly. The hotel suite looked almost the size of your apartment back home, warm lighting spilling across polished floors and neatly arranged furniture that looked far too expensive for you to even breathe near.
Then your attention landed on the large table sitting near the windows. And your soul nearly left your body.
Equipment. So much fucking equipment.
Two massive black cameras rested neatly beside a smaller handheld one. There was an iPad, a laptop, tripods, microphones, chargers, lighting equipment, and cables so intimidating they looked like they belonged inside a spaceship instead of a filming setup.
Your luggage slipped from your fingers onto the floor with a dull thud as you walked toward the table cautiously, like the devices might explode if you touched them incorrectly.
Your eyes widened even more.
For the past several days, you have been desperately teaching yourself how to edit videos and film cinematic shots. Watching tutorials until sunrise. Memorizing transitions. Learning random camera terms you barely understood.
But you had been practicing with your phone. Your fucking phone.
Meanwhile these cameras looked expensive enough to pay your rent for the next ten years.
You carefully picked one up with both hands, terrified you’d somehow damage it through sheer incompetence alone.
Honestly, you were still shocked Jungkook never asked for samples of your work.
If he had, your career would’ve ended immediately.
The only thing you could’ve shown him was a mediocre CapCut edit with dramatic black-and-white filters slapped over it to make it look “cinematic.”
You groaned loudly, dropping your forehead against the edge of the table.
“Oh my God,” you whispered into the expensive wood. “I’m actually a fraud.”
You nearly lost balance holding the enormous camera in your hands, quickly tightening your grip before your entire future shattered onto the hotel floor in high definition. “Woah, this is heavy.”
Your eyes stayed locked on the equipment nervously as you adjusted the strap around your wrist, trying your best to look like someone who actually knew what they were doing. Because if Jungkook realized how painfully inexperienced you were, he might personally send you back to your country on the next available flight.
You wouldn’t even blame him. The past few nights had been brutal.
You barely slept at all, surviving almost entirely on instant noodles, caffeine, and pure fear while desperately teaching yourself editing techniques through YouTube tutorials. Your laptop had become an extension of your body at this point, constantly running sample footage you filmed around your apartment just so you could practice transitions, lighting adjustments, stabilization, and color grading.
You even studied Jungkook’s editing style specifically.
The pacing of his vlogs, the soft cinematic filters, the random zoom-ins and the casual, natural feeling of the clips.
You analyzed everything like your life depended on it because technically, your rent kind of did. You were getting paid for this...a ridiculous amount, too.
And there was absolutely no way you could afford getting exposed now.
“Okay…” you muttered slowly while fiddling with the camera settings. “This is kinda… easy?”
You said it more like a question than a statement. Still, you forced yourself to keep going.
You searched up tutorials for the exact camera model, watched setup guides, practiced adjusting focus and lighting, and filmed random clips around the room like an aspiring film student fighting for survival.
At some point, you even started taking artistic shots of your coffee cup near the hotel window. For practice, obviously.
Tomorrow was your first official filming day.
According to the schedule Jungkook emailed you earlier, you’d be accompanying him to a golf activity before the concert. He wanted behind-the-scenes footage for the fans—small moments throughout the day, casual interactions, preparations before performing.
And apparently that was only the beginning. Over the next few days, you’d also be filming soundchecks, backstage moments, errands, workouts, rehearsals, and random snippets of his daily routine while on tour.
Basically, your entire existence now revolves around documenting Jungkook’s life aesthetically.
No pressure.
You used his latest vlog as your main reference while practicing, pausing every few seconds to study angles and editing choices carefully. Honestly, the style itself wasn’t impossible to recreate. It leaned more natural than overly polished, which helped calm your nerves slightly.
The problem was you, you weren’t skilled.
And the more you thought about his expectations, the more your stomach twisted itself into knots.
But backing out wasn’t an option anymore.
So instead of panicking yourself into quitting, you threw every ounce of energy into learning.
Like you were preparing for the Olympics instead of secretly faking your way into being Jungkook’s videographer.
You almost had a heart attack when your phone suddenly buzzed while you were testing the cameras.
The heavy device nearly slipped straight out of your hands as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen.
Your pulse instantly skyrocketed.
Jungkook: hey, i left all the equipment on the table in your hotel room because i had to leave early for rehearsal. camera batteries are charging already, memory cards are inside the small black case, and i think i accidentally tangled all the wires together so… good luck with that honestly ㅎㅎ
there’s also a pass hanging on the chair for backstage access. don’t lose it or my manager’s gonna kill me lol
take your time checking everything first before we head out tomorrow. and if anything’s confusing just call me :))
You stared at the message for a moment longer than necessary, a smile unconsciously pulling at your lips.
His personality somehow translated perfectly even through text messages alone—easygoing, playful, ridiculously approachable despite being one of the biggest celebrities in the world.
It reminded you exactly why he used to be your ultimate bias years ago. There was something naturally charming about him.
You quickly typed a reply before you could overthink it too much.
You: yes! i am checking them out hehe.. the batteries are currently charging, the cards are safe, and i’m currently fighting for my life trying to untangle these wires hahaha
good luck with rehearsal!! see you tomorrow!
The second you pressed send, immediate regret flooded your body. You stared at your message in horror.
Why did I sound like that?
Your cheeks burned violently as you reread the multiple “hehe’s” and unnecessary laughter typed into the conversation like a teenager texting her crush for the first time.
You physically covered your face with your hands.
“Oh my God,” you groaned into your palms. It wasn’t like you were trying to flirt.
Or maybe… just a little bit.
Which honestly made the situation infinitely worse.
You used to be an incredibly dedicated ARMY once upon a time, and frankly...this entire situation was making your heart malfunction.
Working for Jungkook, texting Jungkook and meeting Jungkook.
It all felt unreal in the most dangerous way possible.
But you forced yourself to set the fangirl part aside before it completely consumed you. You needed to stay professional, calm and composed.
Otherwise, you were genuinely convinced you’d suffer a stroke before filming a single decent piece of content for him.
So instead of spiraling, you spent the entire night practicing.
Testing the cameras, learning the settings...adjusting lighting.
Checking the microphones repeatedly to make sure the audio sounded clean.
You edited random sample clips until your eyes burned from exhaustion, determined to familiarize yourself with the equipment enough to at least fake confidence tomorrow.
And somehow, by pure fear-driven determination alone, morning arrived faster than expected.
You woke up early to practice filming one last time before leaving, moving around the hotel room with nervous energy buzzing beneath your skin. You were oddly dedicated now...almost desperate—to prove that hiring you wasn’t a mistake.
After showering, you dressed carefully in clothes that screamed “professional videographer” despite the fact that you absolutely were not one.
A black long-sleeved polo, dark slacks and black shoes. You even tied your hair back neatly, staring at yourself in the mirror afterward like you were about to infiltrate the FBI instead of filming golf content.
A knock sounded at your hotel door.
“Good day, Ms. Y/N. Are you ready?”
You immediately straightened up before opening it, greeted by one of the bodyguards Jungkook assigned to escort you. His black shades reflected your visibly nervous expression back at you.
“Yes,” you answered quickly, trying to sound more confident than you felt.
Before leaving, you double-checked everything one last time—the batteries, memory cards, laptop, chargers—making sure nothing important was missing before following the bodyguard downstairs.
Outside, a sleek black car waited for you.
Your heartbeat quickened the moment you stepped inside.
You were scheduled to arrive an hour earlier than Jungkook so you could prepare the equipment and set everything up properly before filming started. Which meant you had an entire hour alone to panic in peace.
The ride itself was painfully quiet. Only the soft hum of the air conditioner filled the car while city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Your hands rested stiffly over your bag, fingers nervously tapping against the expensive camera inside while your thoughts spiraled endlessly.
You swallowed hard. “I can do this,” you whispered quietly to yourself.
Though honestly, you sounded unconvinced. The moment the golf course entrance came into view, your stomach twisted so violently you almost gagged.
Oh God. This was actually happening.
The bodyguard escorted you inside shortly after, guiding you toward the smaller private golf area before leaving you alone to prepare your setup.
The silence that followed felt enormous.
You slowly placed the equipment down, inhaling deeply as the morning breeze brushed against your face. The golf course stretched beautifully beneath the early sunlight, calm and expensive and intimidating all at once.
And somewhere in the middle of unpacking tripods with trembling hands, one horrifying realization settled heavily into your chest.
Soon, Jungkook was going to arrive.
You looked around quietly, taking in the golf course while trying to calm the violent beating of your heart.
The place felt tucked away from the rest of the world somehow—small, peaceful, almost unreal in its stillness. Unlike the massive championship courses you usually saw online, this one felt more intimate. The holes were laid out closer together across smooth fairways trimmed so perfectly they looked like green velvet beneath the morning sun.
Small sand bunkers curved around the landscape, soft hills rolling gently beneath clean white flags planted in the distance.
No screaming crowds, no cameras flashing endlessly...just the distant rustling of trees, the muted hum of golf carts somewhere farther away, and every now and then, the satisfying thunk of a golf club striking a ball cleanly through the air.
Though, it would’ve been relaxing if you weren’t moments away from throwing up from anxiety.
Your hands were already sweaty as you unpacked the equipment carefully, trying not to look like you had absolutely no clue what you were doing. You adjusted the camera repeatedly, searching for decent angles while silently thanking every higher power possible that there weren’t many people around.
Only a few locals occupied the course, minding their own business.
Good.
Less witnesses for your downfall.
You became so focused on testing camera movements and practicing steady shots that you completely failed to notice someone approaching behind you.
It wasn’t until you angled the camera upward during practice that your soul nearly exited your body.
Jungkook stood directly in frame, smiling right into the lens. Your heart stopped.
“Hi,” he greeted warmly, amusement flickering across his face as he glanced at the camera in your hands. “Looks like you’re having fun already.”
A black sports bag rested beside your equipment now, meaning he must’ve walked over while you were too busy pretending to be a professional filmmaker to notice.
Your eyes widened instantly. “Oh my God—”
You almost tripped over your own feet while hurriedly lowering the camera, panic rushing through your body all at once.
“I was just, um—checking the angles,” you explained nervously, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so awkward. “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”
You quickly wiped your damp palms against your slacks before offering your hand to him politely.
Up close, he somehow looked even more unreal. Tall, broad-shouldered, with beautiful tattoos curling around his arm, silver piercings catching the sunlight softly whenever he smiled.
And unfortunately for your sanity, he was even more handsome in person. The kind of handsome that made it difficult to think properly when he looked at you for too long.
He chuckled softly before taking your hand in his.
Your brain short-circuited immediately.
Dressed in a fitted white polo shirt and black Nike shorts, a black cap resting low over his dark hair in a way that somehow made him look both ridiculously expensive and effortlessly casual at the same time.
The shirt did absolutely nothing to hide how built he was.
You could see the outline of his muscles beneath the fabric every time he moved, his shoulders broad enough to almost completely block the sunlight from where you stood.
“Hello,” he said warmly, shaking your hand once. “I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you too.” Your cheeks instantly burned.
Seeing him through a screen was one thing. Seeing him in person felt entirely different.
He was so much more charismatic up close it almost irritated you. His bunny teeth peeked out whenever he smiled, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners while he spoke in that easy, friendly tone that made it impossible not to relax around him.
His entire aura felt bright somehow...and dangerously charming.
You were absolutely screwed.
“I’ll leave the filming techniques up to you,” he continued casually, walking over toward the cooler nearby. “Feel free to film me however you want. No pressure.”
No pressure.
As if your nervous system wasn’t already collapsing in on itself.
He grabbed a cold bottle of water before offering another one toward you naturally, like this entire situation wasn’t surreal at all.
“Thank you,” you answered quickly, taking the bottle before immediately setting it aside again. “Uh—I’ll start filming now!”
You lifted the camera again with almost aggressive determination, eager to gather as much footage as possible. More clips meant more editing options later. More editing options meant a smaller chance of exposing yourself as a complete fraud.
Jungkook raised an amused brow at your sudden seriousness, his gaze briefly traveled over your outfit before returning to your face.
“You sure?” he asked lightly. “You don’t wanna eat first? I still have to stretch and stuff anyway.”
You shook your head immediately. “Nope.”
Your grip tightened around the camera slightly. “I wanna include behind-the-scenes snippets too, so…” you explained, trying your best to sound professional despite your racing heart. “This would actually be good footage.”
The determination in your voice made Jungkook smile again. And for some reason, that tiny look of approval made your stomach flip harder than it should have.
Jungkook chuckled softly. “Alright,” he said easily. “Just tell me if you need specific details or angles.”
Then he walked toward the side of the golf course to begin stretching.
You immediately followed after him with the camera clutched in your hands exactly the way you practiced all night, quickly pressing record before your nerves could stop you.
At first, things seemed to be going surprisingly well. You filmed everything.
His warm-ups were slow, deliberate...like he was already in control of everything around him.
The way he adjusted his gloves with quiet precision. The subtle flex of his arms as he set up his iron, muscles shifting beneath fabric like something effortless and practiced. The clean, confident swing of the club cutting through air before striking the ball with a sharp, satisfying sound. The soft crunch of grass beneath his shoes as he shifted his stance, grounding himself between each shot.
Then the stillness between it all.
Him sitting down beneath the shade, momentarily retreating from the sun. Him lifting a bottle of water to his lips, throat moving as he drank, the back of his hand brushing sweat away from his neck without much thought.
You practically documented his entire existence.
At one point, you even almost followed him toward the restroom before your brain caught up with your body at the last second.
You genuinely thought you were doing an amazing job.
From your perspective, more footage meant more options later during editing. You didn’t want to miss a single moment that could potentially look cinematic or useful.
But from Jungkook’s perspective… It was a little concerning.
At first, he simply watched quietly. He noticed the small mistakes immediately—the way you held the camera too stiffly sometimes, the awkward adjustments of the lens, the shaky transitions between movements.
Still, he tried convincing himself that maybe you were just getting comfortable with the equipment. Maybe you simply needed time.
But as the day continued, realization slowly settled in. Especially when he caught you aggressively zooming into completely unnecessary details before quickly rotating the lens too fast, creating footage that would probably look dizzying when played back.
Beginner.
The word settled into his thoughts almost instantly. You followed him everywhere with unwavering focus, constantly checking the framing, adjusting settings, filming from different angles even when your hands visibly started struggling beneath the camera’s weight.
By the time he returned from the restroom later that afternoon, he paused slightly at the sight of you near the equipment table.
You were rotating your shoulders carefully with a tired grimace, trying to ease the soreness from carrying the camera all day. Sweat clung lightly against your forehead beneath the heat of the sun, and your fingers looked faintly red from gripping the equipment for hours.
Still, the moment you noticed him approaching again, you instinctively reached for the camera.
“I think you have enough footage for today,” Jungkook said quietly before you could pick it up again.
His voice carried something firmer now. Your hands froze mid-motion.
You blinked at him in confusion. “Huh?” you asked, adjusting your grip on the camera. “But you’re not done yet.”
He was still in the middle of playing. There were still shots left, more footage you could take, more angles you could practice.
But instead of continuing, Jungkook simply placed the iron back onto the rack with a quiet sigh.
Something about his body language had changed. Subtle, but noticeable.
The playful brightness from earlier dimmed slightly, exhaustion settling into the slope of his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck.
And suddenly, anxiety crept beneath your skin.
Was he disappointed?
The answer was yes. Not angry…but disappointed enough to realize the truth little by little throughout the day.
You don’t have any clue on what you were doing.
The way you handled the camera, the inconsistent framing, the random zoom-ins, the awkward adjustments every few seconds—it was painfully obvious that you were inexperienced.
And for a brief moment, ugly thoughts crossed his mind despite himself.
He trusted you.
Even without polished sample reels or impressive portfolios, he still chose to trust you. Your cover letter had been painfully sincere, especially the part about wanting independence. Wanting to do things on your own so you wouldn’t burden your parents, wanting to make them proud and wanting to stand on your own feet.
A lot of people sent him impressive applications. High-quality edits, cinematic videos and professional portfolios crafted carefully to catch his attention. Thousands of direct messages flooded his account constantly, most of them blending together into meaningless noise after a while.
But yours stood out somehow.
Maybe it was the formal profile picture that made him laugh- looked strangely earnest among the endless stream of unserious messages. Maybe it was the desperation hidden between your carefully written sentences. Or maybe it was simply because your letter resonated with him more than he expected it to.
He understood that kind of desperation.
That overwhelming need to prove yourself to the world.
He had been independent from a young age too, forced to grow up far earlier than most people ever had to. He knew what it felt like to carry pressure so heavy it started shaping the person you became.
But still—
Maybe you lied just to get close to him.
Maybe you wanted the money.
Maybe you were just another person trying to take advantage of him somehow.
God knew he had already met far too many people like that.
But every time those thoughts surfaced, they disappeared almost instantly the second he looked at you again.
Because you were trying so hard.
The determination written across your face all day felt painfully genuine, from the way you followed him around with aching arms to the sweat gathering near your forehead while you forced yourself to keep filming despite your obvious exhaustion.
You looked less like a manipulative opportunist and more like someone desperately trying not to fail.
Still, disappointment lingered quietly beneath his ribs. A dull ache he couldn’t quite shake away no matter how sincere you looked trying to impress him.
And instead of sending you home immediately, another thought slowly crept into his mind.
Something dangerous and mean.
Something dirty enough to make his pulse slow.
He wanted to punish you for it.
Not enough to truly hurt you—never that...but enough to make you understand exactly what happened when you lied to him. Enough to leave you breathless beneath the weight of his attention, overwhelmed by the consequences of trying to fool him so boldly.
Jungkook had always been competitive for a reason.
He hated losing, hated being made a fool of.
And now that you had managed to slip past his guard so easily, there was no way he was letting you walk away untouched by it.
Oh, he was going to have so much fun with you.
“I wanna film something,” he finally said instead, voice quieter now. More serious.
Your breath caught slightly at the sudden change in tone. The warmth from earlier had faded into something calmer.
“Oh,” you answered softly, momentarily caught off guard. “Okay! What kind of content?”
You quickly stood up and began fixing the equipment into your bags, noticing him grab his car keys from beside his sports bag.
“You’ll see,” he said simply, before turning toward the exit.
Your own brows furrowed in confusion. The schedule he sent clearly stated golf content for today.
Still, you followed him quietly anyway. When he told you to ride with him instead of the escort vehicle, your confusion deepened even more, though you didn’t question it aloud. Maybe he wanted driving footage or some cinematic clips for the vlog.
That had to be it.
Your heart thumped nervously as you climbed into his car beside him, immediately noticing how sleek and absurdly expensive the interior looked. The soft scent of fresh mint lingered in the air, clean and comforting somehow.
The realization that you were sitting inside Jungkook’s car with Jungkook himself nearly made your soul leave your body.
Your hands instinctively reached toward the camera bag.
“No,” Jungkook chuckled softly the moment he noticed. “You’re not gonna film here, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl.
Your entire brain stopped functioning. Heat rushed violently into your cheeks as you slowly pulled your hands away from the bag.
“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Okay…”
You bit your lip afterward, turning slightly toward the window to hide your expression while curiosity twisted tighter inside your chest.
Where exactly was he taking you?
The moment you saw the familiar hotel building come into view through the windshield, confusion settled deeper into your chest.
You followed Jungkook quietly through the lobby, nerves buzzing beneath your skin with every step.
He had gone strangely quiet after golf. Still calm, still composed—but not as bright as before. The easy smiles disappeared, replaced by something heavier lingering beneath his expression, and it made your stomach tighten painfully.
“Uhm…” you started carefully while standing beside him inside the elevator. “Are you gonna get a few more cameras or something?”
The elevator doors slid shut. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, his doe eyes half-lidded in a way that made your throat suddenly feel dry.
“Take a guess.”
Your heartbeat stumbled. Something about his tone made nervousness crawl violently through your body. And when the elevator finally opened onto your floor, Jungkook grabbed your wrist without warning.
You gasped softly, he dragged you out impatiently, long strides carrying the two of you quickly down the hallway toward your hotel room. His grip wasn’t painful, but firm enough to make your pulse race uncontrollably beneath your skin.
By the time you stopped in front of your door, your mind was already spiraling. Jungkook looked down at you expectantly, his pupils dilated, still holding your wrist while waiting for you to unlock the room.
Did he figure it out? The thought struck so hard your chest physically tightened.
Your fingers trembled slightly while pulling out the keycard. Guilt flooded your system all at once, thick and suffocating.
You were scared.
Scared he’d yell at you. Scared he’d confiscate the equipment. Scared he’d have you booked on the next flight home before you even had a chance to explain yourself.
Completely unaware of the way his dark, playful mind worked. Completely unaware of how badly he wanted to punish you.
“Jungkook, I—”
But the words died immediately when he walked past you instead.
He took the camera bag from your hands and moved straight toward the table, pulling out the camera you used earlier before checking the rest of the equipment you left behind.
You blinked in confusion. Huh?
Jungkook grabbed another camera calmly before setting up one of the tripods with practiced ease. The way his fingers moved across the equipment was fast and precise, adjusting settings effortlessly while rotating the camera into position like second nature. His shoulders flexed beneath the white polo each time he lifted the tripod, veins bulging faintly along his tattooed forearms while he fixed the lighting behind it.
Your lips parted slightly without meaning to. He looked ridiculously good doing something as simple as setting up cameras.
“W-What are you doing?” you stammered, confused.
Jungkook glanced back at you over his shoulder while tightening something near the tripod head.
“Sit on the bed for me.”
Your stomach flipped violently. “H-Huh? I mean okay,” you answered quietly, swallowing hard before slowly moving toward the bed.
You sat carefully near the edge while watching him continue adjusting the setup.
With one hand alone, Jungkook lifted the heavy tripod effortlessly and positioned it directly in front of the bed, angling the camera downward toward where you sat.
The veins along his arms flexed again beneath the strain.
Your throat went completely dry. The room suddenly felt much smaller than before.
Hotter too.
You watched silently as he grabbed another tripod, this time placing it to the right side of the bed. Both cameras pointed directly at you now. And for some reason, the sight made your heartbeat pound harder than ever before.
He looked through the camera lens carefully, head tilting slightly as he adjusted the angle. “Lay down on the bed.”
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What—”
“Lay down.” he commanded sharply.
This time, his tone came out firmer. Leaving absolutely no room for argument.
And somehow, the way he looked at you through the camera lens sent a sharp shiver crawling down your spine.
To your own horror, excitement slowly started mixing with the fear curling inside your stomach.
You almost wanted to slap yourself for it.
You swallowed hard before slowly slipping your shoes off, awkwardly climbing farther onto the bed until your back rested against the headboard.
Every movement suddenly felt painfully self-aware beneath the cameras pointed directly at you.
Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully while studying the frame through the viewfinder, eventually stepping forward again to move the tripod closer.
Before you could shift yourself lower against the mattress, he suddenly walked toward you instead. Your breath hitched the second he crouched down in front of you holding the clip-on microphone.
He leaned in close enough for you to catch the faint scent of mint lingering on him.
“You forgot these earlier,” he said lightly, though there was something mocking beneath the softness of his voice now.
“Oh,” you answered weakly. “Uhm… I was in a rush, so…” Your cheeks burned instantly from embarrassment.
Of course you forgot the microphones!
Jungkook raised a brow slowly. “You were in a rush?” he repeated with a quiet chuckle before standing back up again.
Then he walked toward the table and grabbed the smaller digital camcorder, casually aiming it toward you.
The amount of cameras pointed at you now made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Instinctively, you tried sitting up straighter, but Jungkook stopped you immediately.
“Stay still,” he said calmly. “I wanna test the cameras.”
“Test the cameras?”
“I think you need a little demo, baby.” Your heartbeat stopped. “You weren’t doing a very good job earlier.” The teasing mockery in his tone hit you like a truck.
And suddenly everything crashed down at once. Your eyes widened in horror.
Fuck. He knew.
Heat rushed violently into your face and neck, humiliation crawling across your entire body so intensely it almost hurt. Your chest tightened painfully while tears burned behind your eyes before you could stop them.
You looked away instinctively, shame flooding every inch of you.
God, this was so embarrassing.
“J-Jungkook, please,” you stammered quickly, panic slipping into your voice. “I’m not trying to scam you or anything, it’s just that—”
He stepped closer until his knees brushed against the edge of the bed.
And somehow, that almost satisfied look on his face made your stomach twist even more.
You looked so shy...like a poor little thing unknowingly walking straight into his hands.
His gaze lingered on you with dangerous amusement, as though you had already become his favorite test subject for the cameras.
Dark lazy eyes dragged slowly across your body, taking their time, shamelessly roaming over every inch of you while his imagination sparked vividly to life. You could almost see the thoughts forming behind his eyes—every filthy thing he wanted to do to you, every position he wanted to bend you into, every sound he wanted to force out of your mouth while the cameras kept recording.
And somehow, what excited him even more was the thought of filming it all. Editing it afterward. Watching you fall apart for him frame by frame.
“Shh,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay.”
Your watery eyes lifted toward him immediately. “I’ll teach you how to film, hmm?” he said mockingly.
“W-What?” Your lips parted in disbelief.
Jungkook tilted his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on yours with an unreadable expression.
“Gonna show you the right angles, baby,” he cooed. “What do you think?” He smiled without humor.
The contrast made you shiver. “B-But…”
“Will you cooperate with me?” he asked, voice smooth and almost condescending, like he was speaking to a child. His fingers tapped lightly against one of the cameras beside him. “We wouldn’t want these cameras to go to waste, would we?”
Your throat tightened. Part of you wanted to disappear completely. To book the next flight home, apologize profusely, and somehow repay every expense he wasted on you.
But another part of you—the younger version buried deep inside your chest, the girl who once stayed up all night watching his videos and smiling at her screen—couldn’t let go of this moment.
Because despite everything, Jungkook still hadn’t thrown you out.
He wasn’t yelling at you.
He was giving you another chance.
And maybe that meant you still had an opportunity to prove yourself.
Thousands of people probably wanted your position right now. Yet somehow, he was still here. Patient enough to teach you himself.
Completely unaware of how dangerous that patience actually was.
Because the lessons Jungkook had in mind were nothing like the ones you were expecting.
So slowly, you nodded.
Hope flickered weakly beneath your embarrassment while your thoughts tangled themselves around one desperate need: to impress him somehow.
“Okay,” you whispered nervously. “I—I learn fast when someone’s teaching me and…”
Jungkook raised a thick brow at you. “Pretty girl’s a fast learner, huh?”
Your cheeks immediately reddened again. You nodded shyly despite the obvious teasing in his tone, unconsciously pouting a little from embarrassment.
His eyes went down to your lips, eyes darkening. “Can you count the cameras for me?” he asked a bit impatiently.
You glanced around quickly toward the setup.
The two cameras mounted on tripods.
The camcorder in his hand.
“There’s three,” you answered softly.
Jungkook chuckled under his breath. “Good job, baby.” he slowly lifted the camcorder higher, zooming the lens closer toward your face.
“Now look here.”
You shyly looked into the camera lens, your cheeks dusted with pink beneath the warm lights.
The way Jungkook stared at you through the camcorder made you shrink into yourself slightly, suddenly aware of every little movement you made on the bed.
He tilted his head slowly. “So pretty.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Heat crawled up your neck as you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress, fingers curling slightly into the sheets. The entire situation suddenly felt strangely intimate, and for a second your thoughts drifted somewhere dangerous before you quickly forced yourself to focus again.
This is just a demo! He’s teaching you.
“Open the first few buttons of your top,” he said, voice quieter now as he continued looking at you through the camcorder.
Your eyes widened instantly.
Did I hear that right?
“W-What?” you nearly choked out, pulse quickening embarrassingly fast despite how badly this entire situation could end for you.
And somehow, against all logic, excitement started curling through your stomach.
“Need you to cooperate, baby,” he answered smoothly. “Come on, do a nice show for me.”
The teasing edge in his tone made your stomach twist nervously.
You hesitated for a moment before slowly bringing your shaky fingers toward your top, feeling painfully aware of the cameras pointed at you from different angles.
Jungkook watched carefully through the lens, adjusting the focus ring slightly while observing the framing.
“That’s it.” he encouraged.
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, fingers trembling as you slowly undid the first few buttons of your blouse. Heat crawled up the back of your neck, burning the tips of your ears as the reality of the situation settled deeper beneath your skin.
He’s filming a sex tape.
You were so fucking stupid because instead of panicking properly, instead of running or completely losing your mind, you were following him blindly. Worse...you were getting excited.
Fuck, you should’ve been crashing out right now.
But the way he looked at you— God.
It felt like he wanted to devour you whole. His dark eyes dragged over every inch of exposed skin with quiet hunger, liquid heat pulsed embarrassingly between the gap of your thighs before you could stop it.
“Open your eyes baby, stare at the camera.” he said firmly, an obvious edge underneath it.
You slowly opened your eyes. Your cheeks were already burning, breath uneven as you finished unbuttoning the last one, revealing just enough of your chest to make your thoughts scatter. The camera lens felt heavier now, more invasive, like it was watching you breathe, waiting for you to make the wrong move.
“Hmm…touch your breasts baby, give it a nice squeeze for me.” he whispered, still holding the camcorder, directing it with the ease of someone who knew exactly what every angle captured.
Completely under his control, you obeyed, your hands moving hesitantly at first before you held yourself through the fabric, giving a light squeeze that made your breath hitch. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to stay steady, trying to keep your eyes locked on the camera like he told you, even as your vision softened at the edges and your body betrayed your focus.
The room felt smaller now. You were getting so wet.
Jungkook let out a low groan, eyes still fixed through the lens.
“Remove your top, wanna see your pretty nipples.”
Your ears burned red at the filthy undertone. With shaky hands, you slowly pulled your top off, revealing the white lace bra beneath. The delicate fabric hugged the soft swell of your breasts perfectly, and the moment Jungkook’s eyes settled on them through the camera lens, another wave of heat rushed through your body.
You slowly tugged at the first strap, then the second, freeing your breasts as your nipples hardened, flushed and sensitive against the cool air.
“That’s it,” he instructed, voice steady. “Roll those pretty nipples for me.”
You obeyed, pinching them gently before rolling them between your fingers. Your lips parted at the rush of sensation that followed, breath catching as your panties got more stickier with your arousal.
When your gaze dropped, you noticed the strain in his black shorts—the obvious tent pressing against the fabric. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that despite his composed, professional expression as he filmed you, he wasn’t unaffected.
He groaned, zooming in on how you were rolling and pinching your nipples, his cock throbbing at the sight, precum leaking from its mushroom tip.
“Bring your hand to your mouth,” he ordered, directing the camera at your face. “Now, spit on it.”
You whimpered. Like a good girl, you gathered your saliva and spat thickly onto your palms, showing it to him after.
He bit his lower lip, his cock getting so hard from your submissiveness. “Good girl, now rub it on your nipples—make it nice and wet for me,” he rasped.
You rubbed the spit on your breast, the warm, sticky fluid on your nipples feeling so raw and dirty, spreading the saliva messily as he watched you through the lens with hooded eyes.
You were getting so horny, the dirty act turning you on so much that you could feel your panties sticking to your core.
“Look at you,” he chuckled, slowly reaching toward you. “I bet you’re so wet right now.”
You looked so pretty—your neatly done hair now slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed from all the things he’d been instructing you to do, pebbled nipples glistening under the camera lights. Your legs trembled slightly, aching to be touched, your lips parting every now and then as your breath turned uneven, eyes hazy and unfocused.
The sight made Jungkook’s cock throb painfully hard.
His pretty little doll.
He handed you the camcorder. “Hold this, baby. Show them who’s making you this wet.”
With shaky hands and glossy eyes, you took the camera and tried to point it toward him, your eyes rolling back when he removed his white polo shirt and black shorts, leaving him in his gray Calvin Klein boxers.
You whimpered as you could see the outline of his huge cock, precum leaking at the tip, wetting the center of the cloth.
“Your angle is wrong,” he raised a brow, noticing how your shaky hands were failing a bit at holding the camera properly.
You panicked. “I’m sorry,” you rushed out, trying to straighten it, ignoring the painful pulses between your legs—your body begging to be touched.
He chuckled, leaning over you. “It’s okay, baby. That’s why we have another camera.”
His hands came up to your cheeks, gently holding and angling your face to the right so you could look toward the second camera set up by the side of the bed. “I bet you’d look so good getting fucked from that angle,” he whispered.
His grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, squishing them just enough as the camera captured everything—the way your eyes fluttered, the way your nipples hardened under his gaze, the way your legs shifted restlessly, searching for any kind of friction.
You gasped loudly when his free hand went down to cup your pussy through your pants, your eyes rolling back as he felt the wetness through the fabric.
“Fuck, let me see how wet you are, yeah?”
With one hand, he unzipped your pants, pulling them down in one forceful motion while his other hand remained on your cheeks, keeping your gaze fixed on the camera. Your other hand trembled as it tried to capture what he was doing below.
“Capture this, baby,” he breathed, guiding your hand holding the camcorder to angle it downward, towards your wet pussy.
You almost dropped the camera when he suddenly slapped your cunt, your panties nearly see-through from how wet they were with your arousal.
“Jungkook~” you whimpered.
He sat up and held both of your legs, spreading them wider until your ankles were almost on either side of the bed.
“You’re so wet, I can see your cute little slit through your panties baby.” He chuckled, leaning down and hollowing his cheeks to spit right above your clothed clit, making it even messier.
You whimpered, your toes curling at the sensation, gripping the camcorder tightly as you felt him crouch down, spreading his spit over your panties. His warm tongue then licked along your pussy through the fabric, slotting between your folds, the wet material pressing inside your slit.
“Make sure the camera can see how good I’m gonna eat this pussy.” He whispered while looking at you, flipping your panties to the side and groaning when he saw how wet and pink you were, his jaw slackening as he took almost your whole pussy into his warm mouth.
It was so wet and messy, and you could see him through the mini screen of the camcorder, maintaining direct eye contact with the lens while eating you out, making sure to pull back your hood so the camera could capture how his lips would wrapped around your swollen clit.
He suctioned around it, spreading more spit, sucking as if his life depended on it, then moved down to gather your juices before sliding his hot tongue inside you, coaxing more from you. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, showing you how he drank every bit of your wetness.
“That feels so g-good.” You moaned, trying to zoom in on how his tongue played with your folds.
He hummed, the vibrations making you twitch in pleasure.
“Yeah? This feels good?” he asked, sucking harshly on your clit as your eyes rolled back, your release building up fast. Your pussy throbbed, your clit growing more sensitive with every passing second.
“I’m gonna-’’
You moaned loudly when he buried his face deeper, never letting go of your throbbing clit, his head moving from side to side as he groaned low against you. When he finally let go of your clit, you gasped as he gathered a thick amount of saliva, hollowing his cheeks to spit harshly down on you, then leaning back in with his tongue out to spread it in slow, kitten-like licks.
When he looked up again at the lens, you exploded, your orgasm so intense you could feel your pussy pulsating so hard you almost saw stars.
‘’Stop, please!” You whined, overstimulated as he kept licking your cunt, your legs shaking from the oversensitivity.
His chin and nose were soaked, his lips slightly red and pouty, his dark locks messy, and his pupils dilated. You gasped when he suddenly removed his boxers; his cock was hard and pretty, curving slightly upward, decorated with thick veins and a red, swollen mushroom tip.
Jungkook took the camera and angled it towards you, wide glossy eyes looking up at him weakly.
“Say… thank you for making me cum, Jungkook.” He breathed, his other hand gripping his cock as he spread the precum along his shaft.
“Thank you for m-making me cum, Jungkook.” You croaked, your legs still trembling from your intense orgasm.
He smiled proudly. “My smart girl, very good at following instructions,” he praised, placing the camcorder down beside you and angling it so it could capture how his mouth leaned down to suck your nipples, while his free hand squeezed and rolled the other bud between his fingers.
“Jungkook—” you moaned as his tongue twirled and sucked around your breast, just like he had done to your clit—messy and pouty with saliva.
He bit your nipple playfully, earning a soft whimper from you, his tattooed hand reaching down to cup your swollen pussy.
You gasped when he inserted his middle finger, your walls tightening around the intrusion.
“You’re so tight and warm.” He murmured against your nipple, letting it go with a soft pop before moving to suck on the other one.
You whimpered, your pussy growing wetter from the way he sucked and played with your nipples, the pad of his middle finger brushing against your spongy spot, making you writhe in pleasure.
“Please- too much.” You moaned, his middle finger going so deep that his knuckles were hitting your ass, his finger curling in a “come here” motion inside you, rubbing your spot deliciously as your tight hole produced more juices, the feeling of your previous release being pushed inside you making you tremble.
He let go of your nipple and leaned in immediately, pouty lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, messy and demanding, tangling with yours as the kiss deepened and turned overwhelming.
At the same time, his other hand moved up to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around the column of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as he held you in place.
Your lips parted in response, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue deeper, exploring every corner of your mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing your whines and protests.
His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, impossibly close to your wet pussy, grinding lightly as he shifted. You could feel his precum, warm and slick, and the firm pressure of his mushroom tip against your skin made you bite back a shaky breath, a mix of pleasure and nerves twisting together inside you.
Your walls tightened around his finger, making it almost impossible for him to move it from how tightly your pussy gripped him.
He groaned, biting your lip and nudging your thighs wider with his legs, inserting another finger and making you gasp from the mix of pain and pleasure. He swallowed your moans, almost bruising your tongue from the way he was kissing you, the air in your lungs growing limited every time he squeezed your throat.
“Shh, behave for the camera.” he whispered, his thumb caressing your throat while his middle and ring fingers rubbed your spongy spot in slow circles.
Tears fell from your eyes, the overstimulation and edging making you cry from pain. You had already come, but you wanted to cum again so badly, your pussy aching and throbbing for another release, his fingers brushing your g-spot in a teasing, ticklish way, making you shake and move your legs in protest.
“Let me cum again, please, please…” you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.
He gripped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp for air. “Aww, you wanna come again?” he cooed.
You nodded desperately, moving your hips to meet his fingers. “Yes, please.”
He chuckled at you. “So polite.” he said, lazily grabbing the camcorder from the side and angling it down towards your spent pussy. “Spread wide, baby.”
You immediately held your ankles, making yourself completely open for him, desperate for release, your body aching from denied pleasure.
He angled the camera at your twitching hole, filming how your wetness dripped down the sheets. He held his hard cock, spitting down onto his shaft and pumping it a few times before angling himself towards your wet cunt.
You gasped loudly when his blunt head entered your hole, biting your lip harshly at the foreign intrusion, the stretch nearly overwhelming you from his swollen mushroom tip alone.
“So big…” you whimpered, holding your ankles tightly as a new wave of tears gathered in your eyes.
Your breath hitched, trembling as you tried to adjust, the sensation stealing every coherent thought from your mind.
Jungkook cursed under his breath, zooming in on your wet cunt to capture how your walls were sucking him in.
“Your pussy looks so good on camera baby, so tight and pretty.” He grunted, pushing halfway in and earning a loud moan from you.
His bangs stuck to his forehead, his lip ring catching the light as he bit down on his lower lip. His broad chest rose and fell heavily, veins tracing along his neck, flushed and taut with effort. Even like this, he held the camera with unnerving steadiness, like nothing about the moment could shake his focus.
So steady and professional at producing sex tapes.
When he bottomed out, you almost fainted, the stretch overwhelming—painful yet intoxicating—as he pressed fully against you. His balls settled deep, his pelvis flush with yours, the soft trim of hair brushing your clit each time he rolled his hips.
He groaned harshly. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his jaw clenching as your walls enveloped him.
“Relax, baby—you’re gripping me,” he groaned weakly, this time angling the camera toward your face.
You whimpered, trying to cover your face with your small hands, but he caught both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. His sudden hard thrusts made your body bounce slightly with every movement, leaving you breathless.
“Don’t be shy, baby—show your pretty face to the camera,” he drawled lazily, angling it towards your flushed expression.
“Show them how good I’m making you feel.” He grunted, rolling his hips against you. The curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, buried so deep that he barely pulled out at all—only circling his hips, grinding in a way that made it feel like he wanted to push even further. The sensation drew a sharp arch through your back.
His gaze stayed locked on you through the screen, lips parted, breath uneven—like he was caught between control and losing it. The way your pussy gripped him made his cock throb, his expression darkening with something possessive and unspoken.
“Look at you, whimpering like a pretty little slut.” he said in a condescending tone.
“I-I’m not a slut.” You pouted, your walls tightening around him at his degrading tone.
He raised a brow. “Oh really? You think a lot of people won’t agree once I upload this?”
Your eyes widened, panic flashing across your flushed face as his thrusts turned harsher and sloppier, the rhythm giving away how close he was getting. You were almost impressed that he was still managing to keep the camera steady.
“N-No, you are not gonna do that,” you panicked, your eyes wide and glossy, your small hands trying to push the camera away.
He grunted, his cock throbbing as he felt your pussy tighten around him. He shifted just enough to avoid the camera when you reached for it, tightening his grip around both your wrists so you couldn’t move.
“You like that, huh? Come on, pretty—let me film you properly.” He snapped his hips harder, angling the lens toward you while your bodies met in sharp, rhythmic collisions.
The friction made your breath hitch, your clit brushing against his pubic hair in a way that sent jolts of pleasure racing through your body. His grip tightened around the camcorder, breathing uneven as he watched you come apart through the screen, completely drunk on the sounds you were making for him.
“Moan louder.” he commanded.
You moaned loudly, your chest rising and falling as his harsh movements made your body react against him. His eyes rolled back slightly from the way you kept pulsating around him, every drag sending him deeper into overstimulation.
He bit his lip. “My dirty girl, getting fucked on film.” he rasped.
Then, abruptly, he let go of the camcorder and set it aside.
A soft sound escaped him as he pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Before you could fully register it, he was already moving you—pulling your body forward and repositioning you in front of him.
He settled behind you, guiding you into place so that you were now facing the cameras on the tripod, your body fully on display while his broad chest and hard cock pressed close from behind.
“You see those two cameras baby?’’ he whispered behind your ear, spreading your legs wide.
“Yes.” you replied weakly.
You gasped loudly when he entered you from behind, your body settling against his lap as his thighs kept your legs spread wide, positioning you so the camera could clearly capture the way he entered you.
“Smile for them baby, need some footage from this angle.’’ He cooed softly, thrusting his hips upward while his other arm circled around your waist to keep you steady.
You moaned, trembling so badly when you saw how the lights caught both of your bodies—the glittering sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup, and his tattooed colored arms all captured in high definition under the harsh glow.
"My pretty pretty girl, should I post this? show them how I fuck?" he murmured against your skin before pressing a kiss to your cheek, his tongue brushing lightly over the dampness left behind by your earlier tears.
The tenderness of it contrasted so badly with the hunger in his voice that it made your breath hitch. His hand cradled your face carefully, thumb stroking beneath your eye as though he was soothing you and provoking you at the same time, and the way he looked at you through half-lidded eyes made heat rush straight to your chest.
He suddenly grabbed the clip-on mic from your necklace, your eyes widening as you realized he was angling it downward—towards where his cock met your pussy.
“Need to test the mic baby, let the viewers hear how much of a nasty slut you are.”
The mic was so close that every sound was picked up clearly—the wet, obscene squelches echoing as he pushed and pulled inside you, the way he dragged against your tight heat sounding even more intense through the recording. The noise alone felt almost sinful in how loud and wet it was.
“I bet they can hear how tight your pussy is.” he grunted, putting the mic closer to your cunt.
He could feel how slick everything had become, wetting his balls each time he pushed, your arousal makes each movement messier.
“Gonna cum, oh gosh.” You moaned, your body growing hypersensitive as your clit throbbed with the pressure of an approaching orgasm.
He grabbed both of your cheeks when he noticed your head starting to fall back from pleasure, forcing you to look straight at the camera in front of you. “Be a good girl and look at the lens, don’t want my content to be bad quality.’’
His other hand clipped the mic back onto your necklace before sliding down again, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moaned loudly, your back arching as your orgasm edged closer and closer.
“Cum for me baby, show them your cute little juices.”
Your legs were shaking when you finally reached your orgasm, your clit throbbing so intensely, your limbs giving out as your body hit its peak. Your swollen bud pulsed uncontrollably in fast, erratic heart beats, your walls clenching around his cock as he was still thrusting inside you.
Your eyes rolled back into your head when you felt your orgasm stretch further from his deep thrusts, his mushroom tip brushing against your g-spot and dragging you straight into another wave. You came again, consecutively, your body twitching as overstimulation took over, your legs instinctively trying to close.
"J-Jungkook I can't anymore."
Jungkook forced your legs to stay open, his index and middle fingers spreading your pussy lips apart for the camera, showing how your clit pulsed beneath the warm lights while his cock remained buried deep inside you.
''Mhm.. spit on your clit baby, make it extra wet before I use you." he whispered.
You squirmed, obediently leaning down as his fingers kept you spread open. With trembling breaths, you gathered saliva on your tongue before letting it drip down onto your clit, both cameras capturing the filthy sight in sharp detail.
A low curse slipped past Jungkook’s lips at the view, his grip tightening instinctively as he watched you, completely consumed by the way you willingly put yourself on display for him.
He quickly flipped your body down to chase his own pleasure, entering you again and sloppily thrusting into your wet used walls, pushing your cum deeper and deeper inside you. You were so weak, your heart still racing as you weakly reached for the camcorder to film him.
When he saw what you were doing, he groaned harshly, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it bordered on bruising as he held you down.
“My smart girl, you learned well huh?” He praised you, thrusting fast and hard, the camcorder shaking in your grip as you tried to capture his deep strokes.
"Your little brain functioning well with my cock deep inside you.'' he muttered darkly, thumb brushing against your cheek as he watched your expression unravel for him.
“A-Am I doing a good job?” you asked softly, biting your lip as you adjusted the camera to capture his face this time.
He let out a low growl in response, movements losing their rhythm slightly as pleasure started pulling him apart at the edges. “Uh-huh,” he breathed heavily. “You can be my personal little porn star. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
A loud moan escaped you at the thought, heat rushing instantly to your cheeks as you tightened your grip on the camcorder, suddenly far too eager to keep filming him.
“Gonna fuck you anytime I want,” he breathed, dilated eyes locked on you through the lens. “Film it however I like.”
With a harsh final thrust, he came inside you, grunting as he pushed through the last of it, staying buried as he finished, his body still tense with the release. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, warm cum spilling and pooling, some of it leaking out and staining the sheets beneath you while he stayed balls deep.
The camcorder slipped from your grip, forgotten as you breathed heavily beneath him. You were completely spent, still sensitive as his hips gave a few slow, instinctive movements, as if trying to push his cum deeper despite his softening cock.
“Jungkook?” you asked weakly, fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft ruffles of his hair.
“Hmm?” he hummed against your neck, lips pressing lazy kisses there, his cock still buried deep inside you. The red recording lights on the cameras kept blinking steadily in the background.
“A-Are you really gonna post this?” you bit your lip, glancing back at the two large cameras perched on the tripod.
Jungkook let out a quiet chuckle, teeth grazing your skin in a teasing bite. “Mhm. I still need to edit it though.”
“Jungkook!” you squealed, panicking again.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and sharp with need, still carrying that lingering haze of desire. “Do you even know how to edit?” he asked, eyes squinting in playful doubt.
Your eyes widened. “I can edit,” you insisted quickly. “I learned a few things… I kinda know the basics.” Your voice softened at the end, almost uncertain.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he slowly pulled out, earning a shaky breath from you before he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.
“Hmm. Okay…” he murmured softly, lifting the camcorder slightly between you. “Edit this video for me, then.”
“What, r-really?” you blinked, surprised that he was letting you work for him.
“Uh-huh,” he said casually. “Then we’ll see if I have to keep you or not.”
You pouted instantly at that, but he was already shifting away from you, looking at the camcorder and checking the footage with the ease of someone far too experienced at this.
The screen’s glow reflected faintly against his handsome face as he replayed a few clips, brows slightly furrowed in concentration. Even now, completely relaxed, he somehow still looked annoyingly professional.
“Okay…” you mumbled softly, a little disappointment slipping into your voice before you could hide it.
He noticed immediately.
A smirk pulled at his lips as he lifted the camcorder slightly, teasing you with it. “Make sure you include your pretty moans, baby,” he drawled. “Or else we’ll have to retake this again.”
He stood up then, completely unbothered, removing the cameras from their tripods like the decision had already been made long before you realized it.
arranged marriage, yearning, SMUT, corruption kink go brrr
>14k
—
you had been prepping for marriage since the day you could walk.
being the daughter of the east mob’s leader meant you were good for only one thing, and that was alliance. you weren’t taught about marriage like the other girls in your life, no, you were taught omission. obedience. complete and entire control given to you by your husband, and not a single other. you needed to know how to sit up straight without fidgeting, cook meals for multiple families, how to smile without being overbearing or even speak in tones of submission.
you were bred to marry.
your parents rarely acknowledged you outside of this, if ever. your mere existence was a disappointment to them, for you were supposed to be a boy - your birth had been traumatic for your mother, meaning she couldn’t have any more children and your father couldn’t remarry due to the optics of it all. you were the wrong child, in the wrong body, and not a day of your life had gone by without you being told it.
and so, here you were. too quiet for your own good. secretly anxious, always going above and beyond in hopes someone would notice, not that they ever did. you’d retreat to your room, lock your door quietly and simply lay on your bed, cherishing all of your sweet plushies, and pinks and creams of your room as though it was your only friend. your only solace.
you were a prisoner in your own house, and yet your room had become your home, your jail cell that you felt a warped sense of comfort in. this was your space. no one was allowed in.
but, outside of it, you were of course victim to whatever whims those around you had wanted.
as a result, you were betrothed.
to a monster, some had muttered in your presence, making your chest tighten. to a man whose name was spoken carefully, even when people were alone - a name that demanded attention, respect and most importantly, acknowledgement.
jeon jungkook.
he was hardly just anyone. no, jungkook was head of the biggest mob in the country, with ties to multiple international groups that also saw him as their leader. power fucking oozed off of him in a way that had most shivering at the thought of fucking over a man like that, which is why your parents jumped at the opportunity of offering you up to him.
you were shocked when you heard he had accepted the offer. that was a few months ago, and a wedding was being planned without you ever have even meeting the man. you knew he was young in age, not yet touching his thirties, and some even had let you know he was handsome, though you weren’t sure if those were words uttered in fear or honesty.
it didn’t matter what you wanted. didn’t matter if you were scared, or unwilling; and certainly didn’t matter if you didn’t want this whatsoever. he was to be your husband, and more importantly - you were going to be his bride.
—
the dining room was already full when he arrived.
your parents had invited him, alongside a myriad of his men, over to your home, a dinner and celebration a few days before the wedding. that’s what they called it anyway, but you knew what it really was.
it was so he could see you. approve of you.
it made your stomach churn to think he could dismiss you. you truly weren’t sure what would be worse - his approval, or his rejection.
men had been arriving for hours now, many early in hopes to scope the room before he arrived, so they could understand the overall atmosphere of the place. tensions were high as you played with the hem of your sweet little dress. pink, with frills on the sleeves, a neckline that dipped just slightly, enough to entice but modest enough to be deemed appropriate given your status.
you could hear cars outside, feeling your chest tighten slightly before getting in position, just as you had been taught.
men rose from their seats instinctively, their chairs scraping backwards loudly whilst their voices halted mid sentences, unified by their attention landing on the figure walking through the door. jeon jungkook didn’t need to announce himself - his presence alone did that for him. black suit tailored to his body like it had been cut with intent, as opposed to fabric, shoulders so broad and posture unyielding. he carried power the way the other men in the room carried breath.
you stood beside your parents, your hands folded neatly in front of you, spine straight, chin slightly dipped.
pink. that was the first thing he registered.
a soft, babydoll dress in the palest shade, fabric floating around your thighs, sleeves brushing your arms like petals. your hair fell down your back in gentle waves, glossy, deliberate; too pretty for a house like this. you looked like something misplaced - a sweetness that didn’t belong among smoke, liquor and men who spoke in threats disguised as deals.
his gaze locked onto you and didn’t move.
you felt it immediately.
the way his eyes were grazing up and down your body, resting on your face whilst his jaw tightened visibly. you couldn’t tell if he liked the sight of you, and you could feel the familiar churn of your stomach return. your lashes lowered, a shake beginning to overcome your hands as you all walked into the dining room to be seated properly.
jungkook’s seat was supposed to be at the head, with your father at the other side, a symbolic seating plan. instead, he picked the chair beside you.
not in front.
not the head.
but a measly, centre seat.
the chair scraped as it dragged against the floor, the room suddenly quiet, and your shoulders sat high in anticipation. his thigh brushed yours underneath the table as he took his seat, subtle. deliberate. his knee then pressed into the soft inside of your leg, claiming space you hadn’t offered. you stiffened slightly, fingers tightening in your lap and breath suddenly coming out shallow.
he didn’t look away, his gaze firmly on the people around him, and you.
his hand rested on his own thigh at first, before shifting. just slightly.
fingers brushed your knee once. twice, before they began sliding upwards, curling around the delicate hem of your dress. the contact was light enough to be deniable, yet slow enough to feel intentional. you trembled, thighs pressing together instinctively whilst your heart continued to pound loud enough for him to hear.
he watched as your lips parted, clinging to every micro expression you gave him.
you didn’t move his hand away. you weren’t aware you were allowed to.
conversation carried on around you, men chatting, laughing, glasses clinking and food being eaten. jungkook remained quiet, rarely conversing, eating to be polite but refraining from a drink. he was controlled in every single thing he would do, and yet his fingers continued to flex against your skin, as though it was his every right - he had yet to even converse with you.
the world felt reduced to the heat of his touch and the weight of his attention. you could hardly eat, forcing yourself to nibble as much as you could but you were shackled to the growing feeling in your stomach, it was both foreign and terrifying. you stared at your plate without seeing it, caught between something far more dangerous than you’d anticipated.
want.
eventually, the shift happened. the women stood.
it was automatic, rehearsed - chairs sliding backwards and napkins folded, heads bowed lightly as they retreated from the table. the men were beginning to get rowdier, as they breached the topic of illegal crime, weapons sat on the table leisurely as though it was normal.
you followed once your mother rose, legs unsteady as you stepped away, his hand lingering until the very last second before slipping from your skin. both of your eyes connected, for a second and nothing more, but it was enough to have your throat visibly constrict.
you all but bolted up to your room once you were out of sight, your heart pounding and eyes closing shut tightly.
upstairs felt unreal.
your room welcomed you like a held breath, familiar and soft, pinks and creams wrapping around you as you shut your door quietly and leaned against it. your chest rose and fell too fast, fingers trembling as you crossed the length of your room and climbed onto your bed.
you curled in on yourself, knees drawn up, dress riding high on your thighs without you even realising. the fabric bunched at your waist, exposing the simple but sweet cotton underneath - innocent, unguarded.
downstairs, jungkook endured.
he couldn’t stand the men around him, your father making him feel sick to his very stomach. a pathetic man, one he had only humoured when he had actually looked into his marriage proposal. he wanted to reject, scoffing at the idea of marrying into a family like this, only to look into you and finding the sweetest thing he had ever laid his eyes upon.
big eyes and soft hair, your lips were the first thing he noticed. always so bitten, plump - he wanted to ruin them with his own immediately. he dreamt of you for weeks before proceeding with your father’s proposition, and hallucinated you for the months leading up to today. he wanted to introduce himself sooner, he needed to - but he lived across the country, and he was an insanely busy man.
being here. touching you. smelling you. god, it was ruining him.
and so, he pushed his chair back, catching the attention of everyone immediately.
“excuse me.” his tone firm. polite. “i’d like to speak to my bride. alone.”
the response was immediate - hurried explanations, men too eager to please him in hopes he would remember their loyalty. “upstairs, first room!”
jungkook didn’t hesitate. he turned around, and ascended the staircase with ease, a controlled speed that made each step creak. he reached your door, pale and large, and pushed it open without bothering to knock, dark eyes noticing the warm lighting that illuminated your space.
the click of it behind him startled you, as it caused a sense of finality, causing you to look up with a soft gasp that had his shoulders rolling.
he filled the room.
his gaze dropped down to you - curled on your bed, cheeks pink, lashes fluttering, dress hiked up just enough to reveal the sweet bow on your panties. there was something dark across his face, his jaw tightened whilst his eyes traced you slowly. possessively.
he stepped closer to you.
you shrank back instinctively, fingers curling into the sheets, heart racing as he looked over you. too close, too solid, too real. he smelled like smoke and leather, something sharp to his expression that secretly did everything other than scaring you. it was intoxicating.
his hand reached out. not gentle.
firm as it closed around your thigh, thumb pressing into soft skin as he pulled you toward him without effort. your breath stuttered, body yielding automatically as he sat and drew you onto his lap, positioning you like you belonged there.
he looked towards the other side of your bed, hand reaching out to grab one of the cute plushies that were lined delicately in a row. his too large hand took your sweet, pink bunny and placed it in your arms, your back pressed against his chest as his arms engulfed you entirely.
your legs were spread, indecently, your dress hiked up to your upper thigh giving him full view of the small wet patch sat in the centre of your panties. the cute bow on top felt like a gift to him, one he knew he’d roll over thinking about for years to come. his own legs and thighs accommodated your weight as though you were no more than a feather, as though this was natural, primal even.
you couldn’t breathe. your brain was whirling at a thousand miles per hour as you felt his fingers trace directly over the gentle cotton, soaked exactly where you wanted to be touched, but knew you shouldn’t. he wasn’t your husband yet. this wasn’t allowed. this went against every teaching, every harsh threat your parents had taught you in the name of purity. he wasn’t supposed to touch you until you had a ring on your finger and yet here he was, fingers beginning to rub gently against your clit without so much as introducing himself to you.
slow. idle. possessive. he rubbed like a man who had all of the time in the world, as though the conversation downstairs hadn’t quietened down in hopes of hearing whatever you were both talking about upstairs. jungkook wasn’t much for words. he had a mere purpose.
your hips lifted without even realising, and you froze for a moment once you noticed what you were doing. you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it again, smaller this time, tentative. as though you were testing the waters to see if you were allowed.
his chest rose behind you. a quiet, pleased sound left him, one that had your eyelashes fluttering for a moment, unaware how deeply he was staring at you.
you buried your face into your sweet bunny, fingers curling into its ears as the pressure on your clit grew deeper and deeper, the pads of his fingers rough, friction from both his touch and the cotton of your panties only adding to the feeling growing in your stomach. no one had ever touched you like this, never even looked at you.
his other hand slid slower, fingers continuing to tease your upper thighs until he found himself pushing the soaked material to a side, grunting lightly at the sight of you. his wife’s pussy. made to be ruined by him.
your chest was heaving now, quiet puffs of air leaving your body as you clung to one of his arms, cheeks redder than they’d ever felt. he leaned down; nuzzling his nose into your cheek as he rubbed your entrance, teasing the tip of his fingers as though this was more pleasurable for him than for you.
“that’s it.” your eyes shut at the sound of his voice, finally. so deep. his finger pushed inside of you just as the thrill of his tone hit your spine, causing you to whimper quietly, already feeling fuller than anything you’d ever attempted. “feel that?”
you peered up, finally meeting his gaze, a glazed over shift in your eyes as your lips parted. puffs of air were leaving you, whilst you nuzzled into your teddy, his finger thrusting in and out and thumb circling your clit. he nudged your nose against his, sickeningly sweet, as though he wasn’t fucking you with the same hands that had killed others.
it was then, he added another finger, causing you to let out a louder whine, to which he grunted, feeling his own cock poke at you from underneath, hardening from the way you clenched so tightly around his digits. he watched your eyes close, head lolling against his shoulder whilst you buried your face into your bunny, a sight cuter than words. his innocent slut.
his fingers were mean, and the way he nudged your nose was even meaner, causing you to reopen your eyes, forcing you to stare at him.
“do you touch yourself?” he whispered down at you, voice so heavy you could feel it in your stomach.
the words sank into you like a bruise, his fingers halting; though they remained deep inside of you. you whined a little, hips lifting, the feeling of fullness aching you from the inside in. you tried to look away, but he followed your gaze, almost meanly. you were forced to look at him as he stared at you, waiting for your answer.
you couldn’t run away. couldn’t hide. and so you nodded, so faintly, only once, blinking in slight fear at his reaction. you weren’t supposed to, you knew that, had it drilled in your head that you were supposed to stay pure, even from your own thoughts and yet the only thing that was bearable in your life was the fingers that would find their way over your clit every night. you weren’t even allowed to have him touch you right now, and yet here you were, moaning up at a man you had feared up until now.
“yes?” he repeated, an almost hiss that had you cowering slightly, thighs beginning to close.
your face burned. your lashes fluttering away whilst you nodded, nibbling at your bottom lip. “i-i know..i’m not supposed to..i’m sorr-”
you were cut off immediately by a drop of his face, his nose tilting yours before he pressed his lips against yours.
his lips were moving against yours hungrily, and you struggled to keep up. this was your first kiss, and he could feel it, could taste it in the way you were gasping, your tongue lapping against his in a bid to reciprocate his skill. he could feel his brain twisting painfully at the thought of you, surrounded by the sweetness of your room, hand over your mouth, toying with yourself and bringing yourself to heights with closed eyes. fuck. it killed him.
you pulled away, struggling to breathe, eyebrows furrowed whilst looking at him, completely taken aback by his response. he was panting too, and he looked like he was in pain, only for him to drop down and kiss you once more, whilst resuming his merciless attack on you.
his two fingers were touching that spot inside of you, something you’d never been able to reach with your much smaller fingers and it was driving you insane, moaning into his mouth, hands still clutching your bunny as though your life depended on it.
“fuck.” he whispered once he pulled away, forehead pressing against yours. “want you to keep touching this pussy for me, hm? every day, every night. want you to remember how deep my fingers feel inside of you, how i’m stretching you out, how good it feels. and when i have you, and you’re all dressed in white, i’ll make you feel even better on my cock, you hear me?”
your eyes were wide as you stared up at him, his pace too rough for your poor virgin pussy, but a warped part of you yearned for more as your toes curled, panting, crumbling, whimpering. with a final whine, your body arched into his as your orgasm ripped through you at the mere thought of being split open on his cock, feeling something impossibly bigger deep inside your stomach, knowing in only a few days that very concept would become a reality.
jungkook fucked you through it, fingers not letting up until you began to shake, and only then did he slowly pull out, once you were whimpering into your bunny.
the sudden loss had you letting out a small noise of despair, one that had him hissing slowly as he watched your much smaller hands cup his own. he tilted his head towards you, his free hand grabbing your chin, so you could watch as he inserted his fingers into his own mouth.
jungkook let out a small moan himself, eyes shutting tightly at the taste of what was soon to be his, and for once, the man held himself back from what he wanted most. you.
you were panting as he straightened his back, your big eyes peering up at him, too shy given the fact he had just kissed you, and made you cum on his fingers before ever even conversing with you properly. your legs were like jello as he stood up, picking you up with him, suddenly up in the air which had your arms tightening around his neck, your bunny falling to the ground.
he pressed another sweet kiss to your lips, to which you responded, trying to keep up once more, despite the fact this one was much slower, much quieter, without the charged energy despite the fat, hard bulge visible in his trousers. he laid you on your bed properly, your hair sprawled around you and your now crinkled dress still pushed up.
“i’ll see you soon, baby. just a few more days, then you’ll be my bride.”
with a single kiss to your head, you watched your soon to be husband walk out of your room, your bunny in hand, and your panties in the other.
—
the morning of your wedding does not begin with congratulations.
it began with silence.
the servants moved carefully around you as you slept in a home that did not belong to you. you had travelled to jungkook’s city, the journey taking hours and now you were in a hotel room where the bed, although lavish, felt empty. cold. you weren’t surrounded by the familiarity of your typical warmth, and it did nothing to lessen your nerves.
no one around you met your eye. no one wished you well. they dressed you due to duty, not because they wanted to.
your mother was the last to enter.
her eyes swept over you critically, lips tugged into her typical usual frown as she sharply assessed you, as though you weren’t her daughter, but a mere investment finally ready to be unveiled. her fingers reached out without warning, pinching the material at your waist harshly.
“this is too loose.” she said coolly. “tighten it.”
the seamstress looked up from her crouched position, hesitating with furrowed brows. any tighter and it would hurt you.
your mother noticed her uncertainty, gaze snapping to her. “did i ask you to think?”
the woman murmured a rushed apology before obeying, pulling until the corset began to bite at your ribs. your breath caught, shallow and painful, but you refused to complain. you were taught long ago that discomfort was hardly something worth acknowledging.
she stepped back once you were fully adorned in white, unable to properly breathe, arms folded.
“you look acceptable.” she says at last. no mentions of your beauty or radiance, merely acceptable. “remember your place today.”
you nodded. you always nodded.
your father arrived then, already dressed, already impatient with how long it was taking to doll you up to perfection. he didn’t bother greeting you, his attention fixated on his expensive cufflinks as he adjusted them in the mirror.
“do not embarrass us.” he said flatly. “no crying. do not hesitate. don’t forget that this union is the only reason you were kept.”
the words landed with practised precision, hitting you right where it hurt most.
you lowered your gaze with another nod, fingers curling into the material of your dress.
he finally looked at you then. not in pride, or awe, but with warning.
“you’re fortunate.” he continued. “men like him do not take damaged things lightly. if you fail, there will be no coming back.”
as if you ever could.
your mother stepped forward to adjust your veil over your face, sheer lace barely hiding your features as it draped over your body sweetly. you looked like a vision, more beautiful than anyone could ever anticipate and how intrigued they were to see jungkook’s bride, the sole woman that had him ready to marry.
“smile,” she murmured under her breath. “you’re about to become very expensive property.”
property.
the word echoed around in your head, even as you stood in front of the double doors you were about to walk through, your father gripping your arm much too harshly to be deemed normal, whilst your bouquet sat comfortably in your free hand.
you could hear him before you could see him. not his voice, but the mere reaction to him.
the murmur inside the venue dulled, like sound being swallowed whole. chairs shifted, men straightening instinctively, shoulders squaring, heads turning towards the alter not in curiosity, but recognition. fear. respect.
your fathers grip tightened on your arm. too tight.
a warning disguised as support.
the doors ahead of you loomed, tall and carved, polished to a shine that reflected a distorted version of yourself - white and trembling, veiled and small. your heart beat so loudly you were sure it could be heard over the music in the room, each thud crawling up your throat and settling behind your eyes in a gentle sting.
the doors opened.
light flooded in, blinding you for a moment, but all you could see, all you could focus and notice was him.
jeon jungkook stood at the altar like owned the very ground beneath it.
black suit, cut sharp and severe, tailored to perfection. fabric clung to his body in a way that looked like it had been built for violence. his shoulders sat so broad, so wide, so tall - he was everything, with his hands loosely folded in front of him. he commended the very audience, and they watched as you began ascending in obvious awe.
the moment he saw you, something changed. something that sat far enough from subtlety that it caught your attention immediately.
his gaze locked onto yours with frightening immediacy, dark and unblinking, stripping the room of everyone else. you remembered the last time you saw him as a pang of pure want hit you deep in your stomach, rendering you breathless for a moment as you walked towards him in practised perfection, all whilst he did the same, his jaw tightening visibly.
his eyes were dragging up and down slowly. he was the epitome of hunger.
your steps almost faltered for a moment, only to have your father dig his fingers deep into your arm, an action that was caught by your betrothed almost immediately.
each step felt unreal, like moving through water. your dress flowed around you, white silk and lace trailing behind whilst the fabric whispered against the floor like it was telling secrets. the veil softened the world but it did nothing, nothing at all, to dull him.
it made him sharper.
he watched you like a predator watched something special precious. your bouquet trembled faintly in your grasp.
your parents had done their job well - your chin was lifted enough, shoulders relaxed but not loose, expression calm, serene, perfect.
a bride carved by cruelty - seen by her groom.
you reached the alter, your father releasing you almost too abruptly and it caught the eyes of those around you as your cheeks flamed in shame. jungkook stepped forward almost immediately, gaze severe as he pointed it towards your family whilst taking a hold of your hand, too soft to be anything deemed to be from him.
his thumb was over your pulse as you guided you to the middle of the alter, positioning you beside him, too large back covering you slightly from the piercing eyes of the people around you. it was his first act of protection, and immediately, you melted in his touch, seeing it. recognising it for what it was.
you were no longer a product on display. jungkook was openly claiming you.
it was the only thing churning in your brain as the officiant spoke, going through ancient vows that were imperative to your mob culture, carved through loyalty and expectation. your eyes were flickering to his broad chest, his jaw, his face, your interlocked hands. you were nervous, it was clear, but you weren’t afraid - something you could have never expected.
you spoke after he did, doing everything exactly as you were supposed to, and you knew the important people in the room were pleased with the sight of you. you truly were worthy of the man beside you.
and soon enough, you were turned to fully face him as your hands interlocked properly. for a moment, you let out a soft breath. he reached for your veil, lifting it, his eyes searching your face fully for the first time that day.
you looked up at him. wide eyed, flushed, obedient. his own breath caught, a rarity for him.
his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up as if it were the most natural thing in the world, before pressing his lips to your own. the kiss was hardly gentle, and not soft at all - it was an open claim for everyone there to see clearly. the control, the deliberate harshness was a message that delivered clearly.
you were his. under his protection. his wife.
the room erupted.
applause and cheers - approval was chanted loudly as it echoed around the hall, everyone stood on their feet to display their loyalty to jungkook, and show respect to you as you were now an extension of him. you were no longer y/n y/ln. you were now a jeon.
you barely registered it, too busy revelling in the way his hand pulled up your own to his lips once he had pulled away, turning to face the crowd alongside you. he dipped his head, whispering something in your ear only for you to hear it.
“my wife now.”
later, your reception boomed with noise, ranging from glasses clinking to loud cheers. a true mafia wedding; with some of the richest, powerful men in the entire world celebrating the wedding of the century. you sat beside jungkook, having taken your seat only a few seconds before whilst he leaned back, his gun openly on the table, eyes dark, lips parted as he looked around.
your hands were shuffled in your lap, as you watched with a glass filled with champagne that you left untouched. you were told it wasn’t womanly to drink on your wedding, despite knowing it would ease the heaviness in your stomach, and so you stayed away. it was what you did best.
jungkook’s hand sat heavy on your thigh, claiming, whilst he openly watched everyone celebrate you both, though he remained quiet. not laughing, stoic even, and your heart banged. did he have regrets? he was the most powerfully man in the room and yet even he was bound by honour; you knew he couldn’t divorce you so soon, but you really didn’t have anywhere to go if he decided he didn’t want you. maybe your dress wasn’t to his liking, or the incident in your room a few days ago had painted a different picture in his head of you?
“deep in thought on your wedding day.” he murmured quietly, suddenly leaning into your space, causing your doe eyes to widen further as you peered up at him. “s-sorry.”
he simply observed you, holding your gaze. “what are you thinking about?”
you nibbled on your lip immediately. you couldn’t lie to him, but there was no way you could tell him all of your insecurities, on your wedding day no doubt. it would send a man like him running. “my dress is tight.” you quietly lied, though it tasted poor on your tongue.
he leaned back slightly, jaw tightening as his eyes wandered over you. “didn’t take you for someone who lied, y/n.”
your gaze snapped back to him as you opened your mouth, and shut it immediately, feeling uncomfortable suddenly. he was displeased with you..you had already messed it up, and you were only an hour into your marriage.
little to your knowledge, jungkook could read you like an open book. you were pristine, polished to perfection, but he could see cracks. could see the way your fingers clutched your dress, mere millimetres away from his own hand, itching to be comforted, desperate for the gnawing anxiety to go away. he had an odd sort of attachment for you, something he had never seen coming and yet one sight of you in your bed had changed him for life.
he’d never ever let you fucking feel small again.
he noticed the gulp in your throat, and slowly lifted his hand from your thigh until they took a hold of one of your hands, squeezing it softly. “i’m playing with you, y/n.” he quietly murmured. “no one is watching us. you can relax.”
you met his eyes, and for a moment, you let him see. let him see the turmoil of emotion behind your eyes, the way you nibbled on your lip and the way your fingers shyly curled around his own as though it was both foreign and uncertain. were you allowed to? he was your husband after all.
“is this okay?” you whispered up at him so sweetly, voice so quiet he had to strain to hear you.
big, mafia boss jungkook sat there staring at you, heart beating so wildly in his chest it took everything in him not to pounce on you then and there.
“more than okay.” he assured for a moment, causing you to give him a shy smile, still unsure, but almost hopeful. your fingers curled even further into his, interlocking and cupping his hand whilst your flushed cheeks only turned more red.
your smile had undone him, but he felt unsettled at the prospect of you having to ask, especially considering his fingers had been inside you so deeply a mere 72 hours ago. a fucked up part of him liked it, liked the fear and curiosity mixture you exuded, it made him harder than anything he could conjure up. you were the sweet lamb locked up in a cage with the big bad wolf.
around you, men were laughing too loudly, glasses clinking as some voices carried throughout the reception. you couldn’t help but flinch, making eye contact with a few but hastily looking away, feeling uncomfortable as you immediately squeezed jungkook’s hands out of your mere subconscious.
he reacted immediately, eyes landing on the same man that dared to look at his wife, watching the way they recoiled, looking away immediately. he grabbed your chair suddenly, and dragged, making you yelp quietly as you grabbed onto him whilst you were manhandled closer to him. one arm slid over the back of your seat, and the other sat back in your hands, firmer this time.
“let them look.” his voice was rough. as though the thought boiled his blood. “they’ll do it anyway. but they won’t get a fucking taste of you.”
your eyes hooded at the implication of what he was saying, remembering the orgasm he had given you. how could you forget? you had spent the last 3 days trying to replicate it to no avail, spending hours with your own fingers inside you only to be left a sloppy mess.
your heart pounded. “..and you do?”
something flickered in his eyes with a slight twist at the end of his mouth. he met your gaze.
“i’ve been watching you for a long time now, y/n.” his voice was too calm for the admission he had given you. “had my eye on you, i’m a patient man when i need to be. need you to understand this very clearly when i tell you i chose you because you’re mine. you were supposed to be mine, and you are fucking mine.” his tone grew rougher with each word, his thumb drawing deceptive circles into your hand. “understand?”
your chest was heaving, eyes beaming up at him as your brain began to melt. to know someone wanted you this much, to the point of watching you, observing, stalking. it was so fucked up, even you could admit that, but it didn’t lessen how badly you could feel the warmth in your body grow at the mere admission. you nodded along to his words, panting lightly as your body turned to him.
“you want me?” your eyebrows were furrowed, words foreign in your mouth, as though it was something you had never dared to ask anyone in your life for you already knew the answer. in this case, you couldn’t believe it.
he grabbed your hand firmer, grunting lightly. “you belong to me.” he reiterated, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips, pressing sinful kisses to your knuckles.
hours passed as you sat there, and you both conversed lightly, though it was minimal as men came up to him, often talking business whilst you ate silently, watching people, avoiding the gaze of your parents who were quietly seething at the way you were taking sips of your drink and nibbling on food, everything they told you not to do. but you weren’t theirs anymore, were you?
jungkook stayed seated the way he always did - spine straight, shoulders squared, presence immovable. his hand remained wrapped around yours, steady, grounding, as though he’d decided this was where it belonged and saw no reason to move it.
you were deep in thought, and the intrigue in his chest was beginning to muddle his brain. he was a man that prided himself on how composed he was and yet you were ruining him completely, in front of multiple men that would take the chance to take him down if they could. they couldn’t, of course.
“what’s on your mind?”
your head tilted, blinking. “hm?”
his eyes flickered to yours, your faces much too close. his gaze was dark and unreadable. “it’s just us.”
just us, your brain chanted.
you hesitated, visibly. his gaze was direct, almost intrusive, and it had you opening your mouth before you could even think.
“you’re a..bad man.” you whispered.
the words landed between you.
you had been watching him converse and interact for the past few hours and it was settling deep inside your stomach, scaring you, intriguing you, making you curious. it was everything you’d been forced to look away from, hearing it from the confinements of your room as your father bellowed downstairs. women weren’t allowed to be privy to it in your life, and yet jungkook was here, newly married, sharing it with his bride.
jungkook didn’t react the way you expected - didn’t stiffen, bristle. he merely leaned back into his seat, still touching you.
he exhaled as he tilted his head at you. “yes. i am.”
your lashes fluttered. you hadn’t expected him to agree so easily.
he turned further into you, your knees touching. “does that scare you?”
you shook your head before you could overthink it. a tiny, almost imperceptible movement but he caught it. always did.
“no..” you admitted softly
his gaze sharpened. not unkind, curious. amused even. “why not?”
your fingers tightened in his, betraying your feelings. “i don’t know..” you whispered, looking down at your hands “i just..feel like-“ your words were trailing, embarrassed suddenly by your own boldness.
“say it.” he commanded.
you took a breath, still look in downwards. “feel like..you wouldn’t..be bad to me.”
something dark and satisfied flickered behind his eyes, his chest inflating slightly. he leaned in, voice dropping even lower. “do you like that i’m fucked up?”
your breath caught, heat fluttering up to your cheeks so fast it made you dizzy. you didn’t answer - couldn’t bring yourself to. the way your fingers tightened into his grip said enough.
jungkook watched you for a long time before speaking.
“i’m not a good man. i kill, i’ve got blood on my hands and i’m not going to stop. this is how this works, and you won’t get a say in that.” he watched the way you nodded, though he couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers were tracing his palm, as though his words had a completely different effect than he anticipated. “but i’ll come to you every night. that’s my promise to you, alright? i come home clean.”
“promise?” you surprised yourself with your boldness, despite your shyness.
he nodded in response, grunting lightly at the way you seemed so flushed.
“promise.”
—
your wedding had come to a close, and you were finally sat in the backseat of your private valeted car, alongside your now husband, hands touching. your heart was beating out of your chest, a new norm it seemed, as jungkook’s eyes ran up and down you like a man in heat.
a twisted part of your brain couldn’t wait. you felt excited, anticipated what he would do to you, how he’d do it, as though you weren’t about to be locked into a room with a big, bad, wolf - an apex predator known for little mercy. you were his wife, though, and one thing he had made clear in the little time you had spent in his presence was how much he enjoyed the concept.
and so, his hand sat on your thigh, cupping it through your heavy dress, veil still attached to your head as you shyly played with his fingers, the perfect vision of a coy bride. he had been hard all night, and frankly, for the past few days. seeing you today, a physical and external claim to the world that you belonged to him and him alone, god. it ruined him.
the car pulled up to a large home, larger than anything you’d ever seen and you too had come from wealth. you knew jungkook was in a different ballpark entirely, but the small gasp that left you as you looked out of the window pleased him greatly. he felt smug knowing he could lavish you.
“this is where you live?” you asked him in a quiet, awed tone, facing him with large eyes.
he watched you instead of the view he had grown too accustomed to, taking in the way you were in shock at your surroundings. he liked the contained excitement emitting from you, he couldn’t wait to see it further.
“for now.” he merely replied.
your brows knitted. “for now?” you repeated.
his thumb pressed into your thigh momentarily, slow and deliberate. “you’ll decide whether it feels like home.”
your heart kicked harder at his choice of words, a shy smile slowly forming on your face as you both shared eye contact for a second or two. for the first time in the short period you’d met him, the side of his mouth lifted slightly, matching you in your amusement.
soon, he was leading you inside, hand folded into your own as he lead you through room to room, pleasure gripping his chest at the sight of you so giddy, in awe of each and every thing that belonged to him.
jungkook was hardly someone who had experienced much outside of his work, and though he had an extravagant house, he had no time to spend in it. he’d come home to empty rooms, and eat dinner quietly after his housemaids had left, with only his security outside heard. it was lonely. silent. a curse well fitted to a man of his immoral standing.
but seeing you, still in your wedding dress, squealing over the size of the bath, or gasping loudly at the range of kitchen appliances he had truly never used a day in his life - it brought him a sense of intrigue, comfort. like you were the one thing that had been missing all along.
“i’ve never been to a place like this before.” you admitted, still shy at the prospect of being so honest to him despite knowing you weren’t supposed to be so open to him. your mother would be screaming if she knew.
“i know.” his gaze softened a little, feeling the way you were struggling to word it to him. “and..we really get to live here?” you asked once more, eyes too doe-like to be anything but innocent, causing him to internally hiss.
he was leading you upstairs as you spoke, dark eyes capturing you over his shoulder. “everything here belongs to you. this is yours now.”
you wish you weren’t so giddy, but the prospect of it all was just so exciting. despite your naivety, and the real fear that you truly didn’t know your husband whatsoever - he could be a cruel husband to you and you’d have to endure it in the name of your community but..deep down, you knew that wouldn’t be the case. he held you differently, touched you, looked at you.
“this is our room.” he turned to you as he opened the double set of doors to reveal your new living space.
you followed a step behind him, the sound of your high heels almost too loud on the delicate floor, and you could feel his eyes watching over ever inch of you. it exhilarated you. made you feel things you knew you weren’t supposed to.
your new bedroom was anything but warm. black sheets, dark walls - everything was cleaned to perfection. the bedding had been steamed, prepared delicately for the both of you, whilst the room itself had been stripped of anything to give it any sense of personality. it was a wild juxtaposition to your room, where you had creams, pinks, trinkets and books.
the only thing that had you letting out a soft gasp, was the sight of your sweet bunny, sat perfectly against one of the pillows.
you immediately began walking over to it, almost excited to see a taste of the only home you’d ever known well within reach, just as he closed the doors behind him. a sense of finality. for the first time, it was just you and jungkook and that was a scary thought - being in a room with a bad man who had no qualms for human life was a terrifying thought, but to be wanted so primarily by him? that was electrifying.
he loosened his tie as he watched you sit cutely on the side of the bed, holding the plush you. he tugged it free and pulled it off, before moving to his cuff links. every movement was deliberate, intentional, and by the time you were looking up at him, he too looked down at you with a hooded expression.
“come here.” he commanded.
you did exactly that, without even thinking, only to be turned around. your back was gently brushing against his chest as he breathed in your scent, watching the way your chest rose and fell, as though he was about to break you in half. it was his very intention.
rough hands grabbed your veil, lifting it out of your hair, before grabbing the ribbon of your corset in the back. he was a patient man for most things, but for you? he grabbed the pocket knife he kept in the console table beside him, cutting through each strand with a harshness that had you bristling, your dress becoming loose almost immediately.
he watched as it began to slide off of your body, leaving you in no more than the pretty white set you adorned solely for him. you were nibbling on your lip, still extremely nervous though the wet patch growing in between your legs, soiling your panties, was a big enough indicator of what you really wanted.
he turned you around once more, openly checking you out. from the way your tits had been pushed up by your bra, or the tiny panties he knew he’d keep for himself the second you took them off. he already had plans of taking them with him to work so he could fuck his fist to the memory of tonight, and it was doing nothing to calm the raging boner that was poking against his slacks.
“i don’t plan on being gentle with you.” he said.
your eyes flick to his, watching the way he took your own hands and lifted them so they were touching his chest, giving you agency to touch him, wanting you to feel comfortable in doing so.
his own hands slid over to your waist, pulling you in impossibly closer, so you were looking up at him with a bent head whilst he bent down to look at you, both equally as intrigued. a dangerous mix.
“i can’t give you softness. if that’s what you want, you need to tell me now.” his voice was quiet.
your throat tightened, fingers digging into his chest just to feel his skin. “that’s okay.”
he stilled.
silence. then - a breath, as though he was recalibrating, figuring you out.
“yeah?” his murmurs were soft. “you sure about that?”
you nodded, shy, small. certain. “I don’t think i’d like you gentle.”
to that, jungkook’s lips lifted slightly, in a tense snarl as suddenly, he pushed you back until you were dropping onto your bed, a small noise of surprise leaving you. your body bounced, whilst he climbed on top of you, pinning your hands above his head and grunting.
before you could even respond, his lips met yours, drowning out any noises or surprise whilst he pressed his body against yours so you could feel the hardness of his body. your fingers curled against his one hand, his strength barely on display and yet it had you whimpering at the feel of him so easily dominating you without even trying. the sight had your thighs visibly pressing together.
the kiss was harsh. mean, even, and it resembled that of the one in your bedroom only a few nights ago. he had made you cum without even introducing himself to you, letting your first impression of him being cruel fingers inside of you, curling and making sure your poor pussy would remember every inch as though it was the mere beginning for what was to come. now feeling his hard boner against his slacks, you knew that sentiment to be true.
his tongue was exploring your mouth, and despite being inexperienced, you were trying your hardest to keep up. you felt good, so much better than what you anticipated and he had barely started. everyone around you had been telling you how cruel the wedding night was - always the man fucking his new bride with no care to her pleasure, and yet here jungkook was, equally as cruel and yet basking in the pretty moans you were letting out.
once he pulled away, a string of saliva separated the two of you, the sight making you shudder as you looked up at him. he was on top of you, removing his suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt whilst you watched, shivering from anticipation.
scars littered all over his chest, arms and shoulders. some deep, others faint, as though time had healed them into obscurity whilst thick tattoos also covered the majority of his right arm. you’d seen glimpses of them on his hand but you had no idea how high they went, spanning across half of his chest and shoulder. he watched you gulp, fingers faintly going over a particular scar on his stomach with furrowed eyebrows.
despite being deeply immoral, mobs had a clear code of conduct. that meant the women and children of these crime families weren’t used as pawns, nor were they made privy to the heinous things their husbands, brothers and sons would do in the name of work. you had been oblivious to the true nature of it all of your life, despite getting abused openly by your parents. the sight of jungkook in front of you scared you more than anything else you’d been subject to - the scars you were openly looking at were no doubt a result of punishments, or being caught.
you knew he was powerful, the only name that mattered, and yet seeing it had your eyes widening.
he was now all yours.
one hand shot down to grab your bra, removing it off of you in expert skill as though he had practised this very motion in his mind over and over, leaving you half exposed.
soon, your positions had changed, with him sat, back to the frame of the bed with you laid in his arms, panties slid to the side, and his fingers pumping deep inside of you. this was a mirror to what you had experienced when he had forced himself into your presence in the safety of your room, forever tainting the last bit of innocence you had left.
“did you do what i asked you to do?” he hissed down at you, as he fucked you with his two fingers, watching the way your pussy sucked them in hungrily, despite them feeling too much for you in that moment.
his other hand was around your neck, tightening just slightly, whilst two of his fingers pushed into your mouth, forcing you to suck, rendering you utterly helpless.
you nodded, through a small whine and sniffle, thighs shaking as he grunted in approval. “yeah..” you sucked harder, the feel of him heavy on your tongue whilst taking your breath away almost too much for you to handle.
the thought of you in your bed, fingering yourself with your too small hands, moaning quietly in hopes of not being caught simply because your soon to be husband had asked you to was fuel for him to pump harder. knowing you were constantly wet and thinking of him, pushing your fingers in even when it felt like too much - fuck. you would be the death of him.
“such a good girl, aren’t you? did it feel good?” he was grunting against you, now only in his boxers that were straining harshly against his cock, but he paid it no mind. he wanted to ruin you first.
you nodded, shy, ashamed. it went against everything you’d ever been taught.
“b-but..didn’t..couldn’t cum..” you managed to choke out, big teary eyes staring up at him, whilst he abused your poor virgin pussy, desperate to be stretched even further. “fuck, needed me didn’t you?” your admission had his eyes closing, a rare sight of jungkook being made undone. “you liked being fingered by me, y/n?”
you nodded, lip beginning to quiver at his choice of words. so dirty. so fucked.
“filthy fucking girl.” he hissed once more, though he was pleased beyond words. “you were made to be ruined, weren’t you? cumming like that on my fingers. i’m a stranger to you, never even met me and you’re here leaking on me, begging me to break you.”
your chest heaved, as you felt your orgasm impending. you could feel it growing, and it felt like an ache you had tried to get rid of for days, finally ready to disappear. you sucked on his fingers whilst his others tightened around your neck further, practically cutting off your breathing bar a few puffs, watching the way your back arched deeper into him. you looked so sweet, so gentle. he fucking loved it.
it was when he dipped his head down, nose brushing against yours as though you weren’t a slobbery mess, both inbetween your legs and around his fingers, eyes dark. “you wanna be my good girl? want me to be pleased with you, baby?”
you nodded quickly, yearning for his approval, desperate for it. you’d do anything to have it, and he knew it - had his cock ready to burst.
his fingers quickened, before he released his fingers from your mouth, instead properly tightening around your neck. “then cum for me.”
and so you did.
your vision went white as you struggled to breathe, your orgasm exploding inside of your body, back arching off of the bed. his fingers didn’t slow down, keeping up the brutal pace whilst your body shook, unable to take a breath, forcing your lungs to work overtime to compute the rippling orgasm taking away your air.
he pulled away from your neck, watching you collapse back into his chest with broken breaths, desperate whines filling the room once his fingers left your pussy, only for him to suck on them immediately, groaning quietly over how good you tasted.
your eyes were closed, as he manhandled you, pushing you further up the bed. he stood, taking off his boxers, and the slap of his hard cock hitting your stomach was what echoed alongside your pants, causing you to look up immediately.
the first thing you did was whine at the mere sight. thick, long and fat. his tip looked angry, a deep shade of pink, with dribbling precum smearing all over his shaft as jungkook pumped it over you, causing your eyes to flutter. you struggled taking your own fingers, but knowing you were about to be practically impaled by him had you almost scrambling away.
“come here.” his voice was rough as you shakily turned to him, legs already jelly as you sat on them.
he dropped his cock onto your face, slapping your cheeks, your lips, nose. the juxtaposition of your sweet, innocent face whilst he smeared his precum all over your lips was delicious, and he wanted to forever remember you like this - his pretty whore. his wife.
the weight of his cock had your brain fizzling out, unable to compute anything in that moment other than the feel of him.
“want you like this every day.” he whispered suddenly, pulling your hair closer to his cock, making you open your mouth in surprise. he took that as his chance to insert the tip, letting it sit heavy in your mouth. “on your knees, mouth open. letting me use you. you’ll be good for me, won’t you?”
“mhm.” you hummed immediately, the thought causing another wave of wetness to appear between your legs. “wan’that.”
he hummed back, pleased with your answer. he wanted to fuck your throat, make you memorise the exact length of him down until you couldn’t breathe, until you were tapping his legs in desperation, crying all sloppy and wet. he’d save it for another time, almost hopeful that you’d misbehave soon so he’d get a chance to ruin you further. for now? he had every intention of fucking you.
“ass in the air.” he grunted down at you, before pressing a kiss to your lips, grounding you. “let me see your pussy.”
and so you did exactly what your husband asked of you. you sniffled a little, almost in anticipation as you leaned down, arching your back so your face was gently pressed against his pillow, revealing your already puffy core. it was begging for him, desperate to be touched, ruined, broken - whatever he had planned for you, anything he’d give you.
jungkook let out an uncharacteristic groan at the sight, huffing a little at the sight of you so ruined, before he positioned himself nicely. he rubbed his tip over your slick folds, watching the way you shuddered at the size of him, nervously nibbling on your lip.
he leaned over you then, causing you to still in confusion, only for him to shove something in your hands.
your pink bunny.
“hold it.” he wasn’t asking you, but rather making you.
he wanted you holding on to your last bit of innocence as he fucked it out of you. a cruel, cruel man indeed.
you grabbed it, just like he asked, nuzzling your face into it for comfort as he lined himself up to your hole, and began pushing in.
your eyes closed, loud gasps leaving you at the feel of being stretched. one inch, two inch, three, four. it felt like it was going on forever until he had his entire cock inside of you, causing you to shake, whimper, and scratch at the sheets. he was too big, way too big for you to handle and yet here you were, stretched impossibly around a cock that had bullied its way in regardless.
he grunted loudly as he dropped down, his chest now against your back, cupping your body. your face was pressed against your sweet bunny, tears beginning to leak from your eyes whilst he remained still, forcing you to adjust whilst also catching your gaze from above.
“feel that?” he whispered, shaking himself. “gonna make sure you feel like this everyday. such a tight, perfect pussy.”
it felt like a threat, one that had your legs shaking, making them completely give out as you dropped down onto the bed, causing him to thrust inside you.
you let out a loud whimper, his eyes rolling back at the sound before thrusting again. and again. and again. you were being fucked so meanly, whilst he whispered utter filth into your ear, kissing your cheeks, your head, your back - he bit against your shoulder whilst his deep thrusts hit the most intimate parts of you.
the pain remained, but the pleasure was growing immensely with each and every thrust. it was cruel how good it felt, how fucked up your brain was beginning to feel at the thought of such an evil man being the one to take your virginity, and before you could even comprehend what your body was doing, you were matching his thrusts. you knew he was holding back, you just didn’t want him to.
“faster.” you begged him with watery eyes and a soft sniffle, cheek curling into your bunny so sweetly he wanted to marry you all over again.
he let out a moan at your words, giving you exactly what you wanted.
his thrusts felt like a punishment in itself, one that had you moaning out his name, over and over and over. the sound of skin hitting skin was loud, his arms caging you in tight, making you take each thrust much to your secret delight.
“s’good.” you slurred into your teddy, eyes shutting tight. “want it..”
“yeah?” he was biting hard on your neck, leaving purple marks anywhere he could reach. “such a perfect girl. taking my cock like you were born for it, huh? you like your pussy being broken in?”
“like it so much.” you tearily moaned back, salty beads beginning to leak down your face quicker than you’d anticipated, pleasure beginning to overcome any pain you had initially felt. “want it all the time.”
to that, he closed his eyes, breathing in the strawberry scent emitting from your hair, grunting loudly. “i’ll give you the fucking world, baby. anything you want, you hear me? swear, i’ll make you feel so good, never let you wake up without a pussy full of cum.”
your legs were shaking, orgasm already impending and he could feel it, could feel the way your pussy was tightening and clenching. he halted his thrusts, resulting in a loud, bratty whine from you as he pulled out, making him spank your ass hard.
he twisted you around, your teddy still in your arms before he pushed back in, so you were facing him in missionary. his head dropped to yours whilst your ass still stung, your arms wrapping around his neck almost immediately, craving him closer and closer and closer. you wanted him deport, wanted to feel him inside your very blood stream, overcome with a feeling of want.
“dreamt about you. used to go to bed at night hard thinking about all the ways i could make you cum.” he was growling in your ear. “knew i had to have you. didn’t fucking care if you didn’t want me back, you’re mine anyway, you understand me? you’re mine, y/n, and i’ll put a bullet in anyone’s head who thinks otherwise.”
your teary eyes looked up at him as you let out a small sob, his thrusts growing harder, faster, deeper. “promise?” you cried up at him, the feeling of being wanted running so deeply through your veins, healing the single part of you that made you cry each night.
it was all you’d ever wanted. you just wanted someone to look at you, choose you and be happy. you were deprived of it for so long, not knowing what it felt like to be the cause of someone’s need or want, only to have your husband hovering over you, cock deep inside your fucking stomach as he professed his primitive need for you.
“promise, sweet girl.” he assured, capturing your wobbly lips in another brief kiss before pressing his head to yours, looking down at your teddy. “good girl. keep holding your bunny, baby.”
his girl was such a good listener, as you nodded through your sobs, nuzzling your face so sweetly into it as though you weren’t being pounded into, your virginity stolen away by a man that had no intention of being gentle with you during your first time.
you could feel the familiar feeling in your stomach, causing your legs to wrap around jungkook’s waist, feet digging into his back, almost begging him to be harsher with you. you were just as fucked up as he was, begging for the pain since it made the pleasure so much better.
“you wanna cum, baby?” he condescendingly asked, voice mocking you as you nodded up at him anyway, letting out a loud sob. “yeah? want me to fill up your pussy too? make it nice and milky?”
“please please please..” you chanted, tits bouncing with each thrust much to his enjoyment.
before either of you could think, your second orgasm rushed through you harsher than your first, rendering you utterly speechless. whilst your vision had gone white with the first, this time, it had gone black - causing you to drop into an overwhelming sense of unconsciousness for a few seconds as it ripped through you entirely.
jungkook watched, the sight hotter than anything he’d ever seen before, causing his own balls to tighten, his orgasm impacting him immediately too.
“fuck, fuck, fuck..take it.” he was growling at you, pumping through his orgasm as he released his cum inside of you, fucking you both through your highs.
you felt even fuller than before, cum leaking out from either side of his cock as he plugged it all inside of you, causing you to shake desperately in his arms, whilst you cried still, much to his enjoyment.
by the time you were both coming down from your highs, your face was a blotchy mess, makeup completely ruined whilst his back, chest and shoulders were littered with new red marks that stung with each movement. he loved it. he slowly pulled out of you, watching the way his cum leaked out of you almost immediately, the sight intoxicating.
his fingers pushed it back in with haste, lifting your legs slightly to make sure it wouldn’t leak again, and the action had you whimpering. he wanted the cum to stick. wanted to get you round and plump, pregnant with his baby so he could keep you forever.
he knew he was a relatively cruel guy, but he sincerely had plans to be good to you. he pulled you into his arms immediately, holding you sweetly whilst kissing over your wet cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips, nuzzling your nose, stroking your hair. he whispered sweet nothings, telling you how proud he was, how good you were for him, each phrase causing you to whimper louder than the next.
his sweet wife. god, you were everything and more and you had no idea. he’d make sure you were to never see your family again, even if that meant wiping them out for what they had done to you - he had to work on removing the conditioning they had done to your brain, make sure you were happy. that you were safe, as free as you could be with a guy like him.
one look up at him, with your teary eyes and sniffling nose, as though he had the answers to each and every single thing in the world had him completely undone.
he’d give you everything and more.
—
the house felt too quiet. too still.
two months of marriage and the rhythm of life with him had settled into something closest to perfection. you were experiencing joy, happiness, love - to be loved and to provide it in ways you simply didn’t think you could ever see for yourself.
he came home each night at exactly 9pm, his strict punctuality something you had grown accustomed to. he’d leave a bouquet of flowers for you on the table, fresh and fragrant whilst he’d pick you up and kiss you senseless, feeling you melt in his arms. you’d eat together whilst you sat on his lap, chattering away about your sweet day that mainly consisted of tending to your garden and shopping with your security guards, always so excited to tell him about the new things you had bought him with his card.
you didn’t cook, didn’t clean - things you’d been trained in by your parents, a misogynistic reminder that you were worth nothing more than what you could offer your future husband and yet jungkook absolutely forbade it. he refused to have you spend your days doing something your house help could do instead.
instead, he had you spending your days in silk and satins, wandering large rooms that belonged to you now, sprawled on couches that were too big and decorating the luxurious house so it would feel like a home. every indulgence was a gift from him, a testament of his care for you, and though he was one who often kept his emotions to himself, even when they pertained to you, you could feel it deeper than any word he could express.
jungkook loved you.
it was in the way he moved, the way he’d catch you by the waist every time you walked past him, or the way he’d thrust into you to make you cum each morning. he had claimed you in body, soul and mind and you were happier than you’d ever been.
tonight was different.
the house felt silent. the clock had hit 3am no longer than 5 minutes ago, the glow from the tv being the only thing to illuminate your living room, whilst you anxiously bit down on your lip, chest beating and head swirling. you weren’t much of a drinker, but you had finished a glass of wine to calm your nerves only for them to heighten further once the clock ticked further.
he was late.
your stomach twisted again.
you knew that his line of work made him a target, all of the men in the profession were, but he was different. he was jeon jungkook, the most dangerous, the head apex - it terrified you to think he could potentially be somewhere bleeding out, shot, alone. you couldn’t bear the thought, a new wave of tears washing over you as you hid your mouth with your shaking hand.
you couldn’t get it out of your brain.
flashes of him in a pool of his own blood, gunshot wounds to the chest - your father had once detailed to some of his friends about a kill he had achieved in gruesome detail, unaware that you were just outside the room listening in. it had haunted you for months, and even now, years later, it sprang to life knowing what kind of cruelty existed in this world.
your padding feet had gone out to your personal security team, sweet men called seokjin and taehyung, desperate to know whether they’d heard anything, but they were just as clueless as you. they weren’t allowed to leave their posts until he arrived, and they had grown to care for you - you were so sweet, they liked protecting you.
it was taehyung who told you that they were on lockdown, that all of their phones had been asked to be turned off, that something was wrong and in case of trackers, they needed to be alert and safe. that made you cry into your hands as you retreated to your living room, holding a pillow to your chest.
that had been an hour and a half ago, your eyes shutting tightly at every wave of fear that rushed through you.
and then, suddenly..the sound of the lock.
your heart jumped into your throat.
the door burst open, hitting the wall with a loud thud that violently cracked the silence in the air, a heavy tension following through as jungkook walked into the room.
he didn’t enter like a husband coming home to comfort. he came in like a predator ripping back into his territory, wild eyes scanning, shoulders tense and body coiled like he was seconds away from snapping. his suit jacket was crooked and his once, pristine shirt that you had only bought him a mere week ago, showed large spots of darkness making your stomach drop.
blood. not a smear, not a little. enough. enough to know the night was violent.
the sight of him, his scent, the blood, iron, sweat - the danger. it all hit you at once.
your legs moved before your brain could compute what you were seeing, a loud and harsh sob raking through your body as you all but launched yourself into his arms, fingers digging deep around him, clutching him to your own smaller body.
the second he felt you, everything stopped.
his head jerked up, eyes dark and black, scanning, searching, computing what was happening in front of him as though you were a mere figment of his imagination and not a real person. the warmth on his body so sudden and confusing before he looked down and realised what was occurring.
he froze for a moment.
“why are you up?” his voice was low, dangerous, shaking through the room.
you couldn’t answer, your cries stealing your breath away as you clutched him tightly, your hands on his chest smearing with the blood that had soaked through his shirt, one that did not belong to him.
his eyes swept over you. you were trembling from evident fear, causing him to search your body, his hands rough as they grabbed you by your shoulders, pulling you away just so he could examine you, despite the shake in his own body.
you managed to control your sobs, though the hiccups and desperate gasps for air were still charging through you. “n-no..” he let out a sigh of relief. “i-i didn’t..didn’t know where you..you were and..i thought..”
he cut you off immediately.
“shit went sideways.” he grunted, visibly still reeling from his anger. “shipment fuck up. some guy tried to double cross me, wrong city, wrong people. i handled it myself.”
her stomach dropped as she finally took in his appearance. the blood smeared all over him, and as a result, now her too.
“yourself?”
“this is our world. what did you expect?” his eyes narrowed, unable to think, comprehend. he could see you crying, but he couldn’t compute it, not after the night he’d had. “don’t look at me like that.”
your lip trembled still. “i thought you were dead..”
that snapped him out of it.
he grabbed you then, properly, both bloody hands cupping your face, harshly making sure you could meet his eyes with your own. “don’t ever say that.” he was growling, chest heaving. “don’t put that fucking shit in your head, y/n.”
you nodded through your sobs, clutching him tightly still. “i couldn’t stop it, you didn’t come home on time and it got so late, and no one knew what was happening. i thought someone got you..” your chest was heaving.
his thumbs were swiping your tears like he was mad at them personally, shushing you quietly.
“it’s not that easy. can’t get rid of me like that, baby, i’d never fucking leave you. you hear me?”
you nodded again, before he held you tight to his body, rocking you gently, breathing in your scent, his previous anger he couldn’t control now turning inwards, plaguing him from the inside. he couldn’t believe it.
he’d had one of the worst nights of his life, so many men had died over a single betrayal, and he rarely got his own hands dirty anymore - but seeing you? crying, chest heaving, shaking, desperate and afraid? that was the worst of all. his anger had blinded him so deeply that he hadn’t even recognised it at first, brain still whizzing from the adrenaline of before until he realised what was in front of him.
his precious little wife, crying for him.
“listen to me.” he pressed his forehead against yours once he lifted you up into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist. “i lost track of time. i fucked up, y/n. that’s on me, okay? but i’m here, and you need to remember that i come home. i always come home.”
your fingers were pulling at the back of his head, tangling in the strands of hair you loved to play with so much as you absorbed his words, your sobs slowly but surely calming down.
“i-i don’t..care what you do.” you confessed, sniffling through your hiccups. “but you promise you’ll come back?”
“i promise, baby. cross my heart, swear to you.” he assured immediately. “my pretty wife, look at you. fuck, no more crying, c’mon. i’m here.”
in the quiet aftermath of your sobs, he still stayed there. holding you up in his arms as you calmed down, holding him as though he was the most precious thing in the world - to you, he was. the blood had began to dry on him, fury still deep in his veins whilst he cherished the feel of your body like a mad man returning from war, you were so fragile. his one and only possession.
he didn’t put you down straight away.
his grip shifts, fingers digging deep into the hold of your ass as he made sure to ground himself. not gentle, but firm. careful. like he needed to feel you were safe, and real, and in his arms.
“fuck, y/n. you scared me.” he admitted, a tinge of vulnerability he had never shown you before tweaked in his voice.
“i scared you?” you pulled back, nose pink, eyelashes wet, heart wrecked.
his jaw tightened just looking at you, his heart clenching. fuck. you were such a liability, his one weakness and your place in his heart was growing day by day. he needed to amp up your security.
“you’re shaking.” a flat observation, but you knew his objective. he wasn’t talking to you, but to himself, and so, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting him hold you for as long as he needed in that moment, whilst you held him just as tightly.
he began walking down the hallway, to your bedroom’s bathroom, still clinging to you like a little baby as he turned on the shower. navigating the hallways of the home you now shared felt so much bigger, heavier even, given the situation - it was only a home when he was here with you.
he placed you on the counter as he began to undress you first, stripping you from your flimsy pyjama top and bottoms, revealing the bitten skin he had ravished just that morning. your breasts dropped from your tank, sweet pussy on display as he observed you. he began to undress too, desperate to rid himself of today.
“look at me.” he says.
you listened.
he studied your face as he unbuttoned his shirt, checking for any hidden cracks, for damage. for something that couldn’t be undone.
“did anyone come near you tonight?” he asked again, slower this time. controlled.
“no.”
“did anyone call you?”
“no.”
“touch you?”
“no..”
“you stayed inside?” his eyes were dark.
“yes.”
“good.”
he was shirtless now, ridding himself of his slacks, leaving him just as naked as you, cock half hard as it sprung to attention, charged immediately at your mere presence. the blood from earlier had stained into his skin, his chest and abs painted a deep red, hands still splattered.
the sight struck your heart, and you fought back a whimper as he once more grabbed you, taking you into the shower with him.
his hands began to move, once you were placed on your feet. over your waist, your stomach, your arms, your breasts, your back, your pussy, your ass. the water stained red as it washed everything away, whilst he explored you like he tended to do, though this was an amalgam of the events that had just transpired.
he was possessive in every single thing he did, forcing himself into your chest, making sure you could feel his presence deep inside your body even without him being there. he wanted you just as fucked up as he was, just as desperate, just as secretly ruined. he had no idea you already were.
his now clean hand dipped inbetween your legs, spreading them immediately as his fingers found home against your clit. you let out a soft sigh, easing against his arm in comfort as you felt the tension leave you in waves of pleasure.
“you don’t wait up like that,” he said, almost harshly, as he rubbed slow, soft circles into you. “you don’t sit here thinking yourself sick.”
“i couldn’t sleep.” your rebuttal came immediately, causing him to slap your ass in a mean spank, making you mewl, leaning into his other arm, feeling the way he kept you up with his rubbing fingers.
“i don’t care.” he leaned in, pushing you till your back was against the wall. “you sleep. you trust that i’ll walk through that door.”
your fingers curled over his bicep.
“i needed to know you were okay.” your admission came through closed eyes, as pleasure waves through you.
even in moments like this, jungkook couldn’t keep his hands to himself, the prospect of making you cum simply too high. considering he could still taste his earlier anger, he needed this. needed to have you break and mewl for him.
“i will be.” he nudged your nose, prompting you to look at him through hooded eyes. “i’ll always come back to you.”
the rest of the shower was spent with him teasing you, fingering your poor core until you came, despite still feeling stretched from your early morning session. the feeling of him so intimately against you was everything you needed in that moment, and both of you knew it - it was his way of telling you exactly how he felt.
and later, when you were on his chest, deep in the early morning, neither of you able to sleep as his cock sat hard inside of you, you both embraced. you kissed like you had both been promised to one another - you, the one constant in his life, untouched by the nightmare that was his reality, the brutality of his workforce and him, the protector you had longed for for years.
he pressed his hand against your stomach, feeling him inside of you before bringing you impossibly closer, nose brushing against your own.
“i love you, sweet girl.”
it was then you could finally breathe again.
—
my mafia jk is here, and isn’t he so filthy 😢 i love a dirty, cruel man and he truly is in all of the best ways. okay brb as i go change my panties
if you liked this and wanna show some love, here’s my kofi, love u guys bad <33
Tags/Warnings: smut, fluff, thigh grinding, switch!JK, switch!reader, established relationship, titty sucking (m/f receiving) IT'S OKAY, oral (f/m), blowjob, mutual obsession, back shots, smoking, LOTS OF LOVEEEE, they are just freaked out. slice of life, cute couple 🥹🥹
Enjoy!
There was always something so intimate about 1 a.m movie nights with your signifigant other. Your legs drappe over theirs, or even your head on their lap as you lean into their touch. A bag of chips laying on the coffee table opened and half-eaten.
Especially with Jungkook's busy schedule, getting nights like this wasn't often, he'd normally come home around this time and just want to go to bed. Jungkook always found way to still spend time together, that's what you loved about him.
You've always supported his dreams no matter what. His busy schedule never infuriated you. That's what Jungkook adored about you, you saw him as him, not "Jungkook of BTS."
Your both trying to spend as much time together as possible since Jungkook's leaving for tour soon. He's become extra clingy lately knowing he wont be able to see you for a couple months.
This is how it always is with his tours and schedule. I mean, he's in the biggest boyband worldwide, his company milks him and his members dry.
You'll do what you always do, stay at his place, wearing his t-shirts everyday, try to find a new hobby to keep yourself busy, binge kdramas and eat Buldak ramen everyday. The usual.
The clock hit's 2 a.m as Your both eating whats left of the potato chips. The movie is dying out, you've both watched this movie 5 times with each other. You had to fight him because of it. It's his favorite and he pulls out the, "Your gonna miss watching this with me when i'm gone." So of course he guilt-tripped you into watching it.
"Jungkook.."
"hm."
"Why are the chips being eaten so quickly."
"I don't know, we've been eating them." He says, carelessly. "Kook, I never trust my food around you, it's always gone by the time I get to my third bite." You sit up and grab the chip bag from him. He looks at the TV, playing it cool as you look inside the bag.
"Kook! There was only half left and I only got like 5 chips!" He puts his hands up, surrendering. "Baby you know not to trust me with food unsupervised." You roll your eyes playfully. The movie long forgotten as the credit start to roll. You get up to throw away the chips.
Jungkook playfully slaps your butt as you jump a little, swatting his shoulder.
When you come back, Jungkook stands up. "Wanna go lay in bed?" You nod as your exhausted yourself. You turn off the rest of the lights in the house as you follow him. He takes the decorative pillows off the bed and slides right in. You do the same.
He smoothly slides right behind you, placing his face in the crook of your neck as he places soft kisses. His hand drapped around your waist.
"Kook."
"hm?" he responds as he continues to place soft kisses on your neck and jawline. "What're you doing?"
"I'm going to miss you so much baby.." He admits, saying in between kisses. "I'll miss you to," You squeeze his hand thats on his waist. His lips start to gently suck on your neck causing you to softly whimper. "Kook..." you breath out.
You turn to face him, grabbing his face to land a kiss on his mouth, he deepens it. You can taste the smoke from his earlier smoke session with one of his members. You don't mind, your to lost in love to mind.
Jungkook slides his tongue into your mouth with ease causing you to whimper. Your hands go down to his biceps squeezing slightly as you sit up, guiding him with you. Your breath hitches as his hands snake around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck as he smiles into the kiss.
You can feel his growing erection touching your clothed pussy. You start to soflty grind against his bonder, Jungkook lets out a shuttered gasp, interupting the kiss.
Everytime Jungkook reacts to you pleasing him, it makes you want to do it even more. It makes you unstoppable. As you grind Jungkook helps steady the pace by guiding you with his hands on your waist.
It starts to feel so good you keep whimpering into the kiss, becoming a needy mess. "Mmm fuck I love you kook." You openly admit.
"Mm, I love you to baby." There it is. That nickname that he knows drives you crazy. But he doesn't stop doing it.
Your body let's in a uncomfortable warmth as your orgasm builds up, your stomach tying into a bunch of knots. Jungkooks boner gets so hard you know it hurts. You pick up the pace, chasing your orgasm as you let out a soft moan. You break up the kiss to lay your head on his shoulder, your body starting to feel overstimulated.
"There you go." Jungkook praises, it only Worsenes your situation.
You let out one more shattered gasp as you cum in your underwear, Jungkook thigh is soaked with your juices. You lay there on his chest catching your breath as you sit up.
You motion for him to lean back against the head board as you lay on your side next to him. You pull his boxers down letting his hard cock spring free. You spit in your hand and start to lightly stroke it, playing with the tip as your tongue latches onto his nipple.
Jungkooks hips buck up due to the sensations he softly whimpers as you keep sucking on his nipple.
You softly hum, quickening the pace as you stroke him, his red tip glistening with precum as you spread your saliva on his shaft. He leans his head back, his eyes closing as he groans.
His hips buck up again, you know he's close. He spreads his legs wider as you latch off of his nipple and lean down towards his cock, putting just the tip in your mouth as you swirl around it. Your hand giving him soft strokes as you continue to suck on the tip before taking him whole in your mouth.
Jungkook groans, you love those sounds he makes it only makes you wetter.
You can feel him about to cum, you always know because he will slightly squirm. You look up at him with batted eyes. He lets out one loud groan as he shoots spurts of white cum down your throat. You take him out of your mouth before you lick up the left overs on your mouth and his shaft.
Jungkook sits up and rolls you over, you land on your back and jungkook is quick to pull your thighs apart. He leans down and starts to plant soft kisses on your clothed folds before he takes your panties off and throws them somewhere in the room.
He gives you a couple licks before diving in, he starts to eat you out and giving you no mercy. Your hands instantly pull at his hair as your hips buck. Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs to hold you down.
Your eyes closed and brows furrowed as your cheeks start to blush. Your stomach knotting up from the sensations.
"Gonna cum already sweetheart?" He grins, his nose rubbing on your slick folds.
You nod frantically as you let out soft whimpers.
You feel your releasing coming so quickly, only Jungkook has this affect on you.
You let out one more shattered breath as you cum, your juices all over his mouth as he licks them all up. He wipes his mouth before leaning over you and kissing you deeply.
You can taste yourself on his tongue, you moan into the kiss. Jungkook places his knee on the bed to get closer as he aligns himself at your entrance.
He pushes in slowly while kissing you, one hand on his cock, the other next to your head. You moan into the kiss as you feel him take up all the space in your walls.
Jungkook curses under his breath. He starts to slowly move, giving you time to adjust. He breaks the kiss and grabs your thighs, putting them together and pushing them towards your chest.
He starts to speed up, your hands cover your face due to the pleasure Jungkook gives you. The sound of skin slapping fills the silent room, and the occasional groans that leave Jungkook's mouth. Your walls clench around his cock, making him loose all sense of control.
Jungkook releases your thighs as you push them to your chest to give him more room. He leans down and starts nibbling on your nipple. Your back arches as he grabs your right boob, kneading it softly.
He knows all of your senstive spots, your weaknesses, every way to make you fall apart.
"Kook...I'm gonn-"
"I know, I know baby."
You let out a whimpered cry as you chase your release. Jungkook quickens his pace, hitting the perfect spot to make you see stars.
Your release catches up to you as you clench around him. You back arched and brows furrowed as you release on his shaft. His release comes seconds and later as he spills your seed inside of you. You let out a broken sob as you lay there, spent. Jungkook gently pulls out and rubs your entrance.
Jungkook reaches for his boxers as he slips them on. He crawls on the bed and reaches for you as he leans against the headboard and pulls you against his chest, his arms drapped around you, tracing soft circles on your chest.
He grabs the controller and turns on the TV, the room only lit by his skylight and bedside lamp. The glow of the TV reflecting as he puts on your favorite show.
He leans over and grabs his cigeratte pack and lighter. He hands you one and waits for you to put it in your mouth before lighting it for you. You exhale the smoke and give him the next hit. Jungkook looks up as he makes a smoke ring.
"I still don't know how you can do that. Who taught you.?
He laughs as he hands you the cigeratte. He places soft kisses on your neck and shoulder as he traps you into his touch. You lean your head back on his shoulder as you exhale the smoke.
"I love you." Jungkook whispers softly in your ear as you reach to scratch his jaw lightly.
✸ Lovestruck Fool ─── because keeping this secret for three years was driving him crazy.
— best friend! jeon jungkook x female! reader.
— In which a brutal breakup leaves you shattered, your best friend Jeon Jungkook drags you into his car for a reckless, cross-country escape. He is your ultimate comfort zone—driving for hours, making you laugh, and keeping the ghost of your ex at bay. It’s the safe, predictable friendship you’ve always relied on. Until a single-bed booking error and whispered nights by the coast change everything. Suddenly, the boy who used to just comfort you is looking at you with a devastating intensity. Jungkook isn't just saving you from heartbreak; he’s risking everything to confess he’s been unconditionally, desperately in love with you for three years—and he has no intention of letting you go.
— best friends to lovers | slow burn to smut | | so much fun banter| rom-com| Jungkook being SO FUNNY AND SEXY | heavy emotional angst | dry humping | nipple play | dominant & possessive jungkook | Unprotected sex | One bed | dirty talk | praise | established childhood bond | wc: 27k+
...
A/N : at last
…
The absolute worst part about having your heart broken into a million pieces was not the crying. It was the fact that the rest of the world completely refused to stop moving. You felt like the universe should at least have the decency to give you a gloomy thunderstorm or a dramatic power outage. But no. The sun outside your bedroom window was blindingly bright and your phone kept buzzing with annoying notifications.
Right on your kitchen counter sat two very expensive, completely non-refundable vacation tickets. They were supposed to be for a romantic road trip. Now, they were just tiny paper slips mocking your sudden single status.
You lay completely flat on your stomach, your face buried so deep into your pillow that you were pretty sure you were breathing in dust bunnies. You were wrapped in three different blankets, wearing a giant, faded t-shirt that had a stain from last week's takeout. Your eyes were raw and puffy from a solid twelve hours of weeping, and a highly depressing acoustic song was looping softly from your phone. You had fully committed to this bed. This was your life now. You were going to become one with the mattress.
Suddenly, a loud, violent metallic scrape echoed from the front door.
You didn't even blink. Only one person on the entire planet possessed your spare house key and the absolute lack of basic human manners to use it without texting first.
A few seconds later, your bedroom door didn't just open—it swung back so hard it hit the drywall with a dull thud. The immediate, comforting scent of clean laundry, mint gum, and sweet banana milk rushed into the dark, stuffy room.
"Jesus, sweets," a loud, entirely too cheerful voice boomed. "It looks like a vampire cave in here. Seriously, did something die under the bed?"
You didn't look up. Instead, you reached out blindly, grabbed the edge of your heavy comforter, and yanked it completely over your head until you were a dark, shapeless lump. "Go away, Jungkook. I am dead. Call the police."
"Can't do that. I don't look good in police station lighting," Jungkook said. You heard his heavy footsteps cross your hardwood floor. He didn't say anything sweet or sad. He didn't ask how your feelings were. Instead, a massive, crinkling plastic convenience store bag was dropped directly onto your lower back with a heavy thump. "I brought snacks. And more importantly, I brought myself. You can thank me now."
"I don't want snacks. I want to turn into a rock," your muffled voice grumbled from beneath the layers of fabric.
Jungkook let out a long, highly dramatic sigh. "A rock? Really? That's so uncreative."
Before you could even figure out what he was doing, you felt his large, strong hands grab the loose edges of your comforter. With one quick, incredibly smooth yank, he rolled you sideways across the bed. You let out a squeak as the blanket wrapped tighter and tighter around you, pinning your arms firmly to your sides. By the time he stopped pulling, you were rolled up like a massive, helpless cylinder.
"Jungkook! Let me out right now!" you yelled, wiggling your legs furiously, but you couldn't move an inch.
"Nope. You are officially a human burrito," he declared. He sat down heavily right on the edge of your mattress, looking down at you with a massive, goofy, bunny-toothed grin. He was wearing a giant, oversized bright yellow hoodie that made him look like a giant lemon, a black beanie pushed back on his dark hair, and baggy sweatpants. He looked completely cozy and entirely too full of chaotic energy. "And according to the rules of fast food, burritos are not allowed to stay in bed all day."
He casually reached into the plastic bag, pulled out a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, and popped it open with a loud pop. He crunched on one right next to your ear, making as much noise as humanly possible.
"You need to eat. And you need to start throwing things into a bag," he said, talking around a chip.
"I’m not going on the trip, Jungkook," you whispered. The silly mood suddenly dipped, and that familiar, heavy ache pressed down on your chest again. Your throat felt tight. "The tickets were for... you know. I’m not going to drive across the country by myself like some pathetic loser in a movie. It’s supposed to be a couple's road trip."
Jungkook stopped chewing. His dark, round eyes softened for a fraction of a second, looking at you with total warmth. But he quickly blinked it away, replaced it with a look of pure, exaggerated offense, and let out a loud gasp.
"By yourself? A pathetic loser?" He slapped a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? Are you blind? Look at me. Look at these shoulders." He puffed his chest out dramatically. "I am the literal definition of the ultimate travel partner. I can drive for ten hours straight without getting sleepy. I can lift your heavy bags without complaining. And, most importantly, unlike your trash ex-boyfriend, I actually know how to wash my own hair without being reminded."
A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. "Jungkook, be serious for once."
"I am being 100% serious!" He grabbed his phone from his pocket, flipping it around to show you a photo of his large black duffel bag sitting by his front door. "I’ve been completely packed since you called me crying at two in the morning. I even packed my good cologne. We are absolutely not letting that absolute clown ruin your summer vacation. Honestly, the guy dressed like a wet cardboard box anyway. You basically downgraded your stress level by losing him."
"He did not dress like cardboard," you mumbled, though a small part of your brain completely agreed.
"Sweets, he literally wore white socks with leather sandals to a nice seafood restaurant. We’ve discussed this. It was a crime against humanity," Jungkook joked, rolling his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck.
He stood up, stretched his arms above his head, and walked straight over to your closet. He dragged your large, dusty suitcase out from the corner, threw it onto the floor, and opened it with a long, aggressive zipppp. Without asking for permission, he grabbed a handful of random t-shirts from your hangers and tossed them into the empty bag.
"Hey! Stop! What are you doing? Don't just throw things in there!" you shrieked, trying to break your arms free from the blanket trap.
"Then get your lazy self out of the burrito and do it properly," he countered, flashing a cheeky, challenging smile. He reached deep into your drawer and held up a bright, neon green t-shirt that you hadn't touched since a middle school spirit day. "Are we taking this? It looks like a giant highlighter. Perfect for when you get lost in the woods and I have to hunt you down."
"Give me that, you idiot!" You finally managed to kick your legs loose, scrambling out of the blanket pile like a chaotic animal to snatch the ugly shirt from his hands.
Jungkook hopped back, laughing a rich, loud sound that echoed through your quiet apartment. He stood by the window, watching with a satisfied little smirk as you finally began neatly folding your clothes and placing them into the suitcase. The suffocating, heavy weight that had been sitting on your lungs all morning suddenly felt a little bit lighter. He was loud, he was annoying, and he completely ignored your personal space, but he was exactly the distraction you needed to keep from losing your mind.
For the next thirty minutes, you both fought over what to pack. Jungkook tried to convince you that bringing five pairs of shoes was unnecessary, while he simultaneously tried to pack three different gaming controllers "just in case the hotels have a good TV." He kept grabbing random things around your room—like a giant stuffed bear and a pack of old sticky notes—and trying to drop them into the suitcase just to see your annoyed reaction.
"We are not taking the stuffed bear, Jungkook! It takes up the entire suitcase!" you yelled, throwing a pair of rolled-up socks directly at his forehead.
He caught the socks perfectly with one hand, laughing loudly. "But what if you get scared of the dark? Who is going to protect you? Me? I'm terrified of ghosts. The bear is our only line of defense."
"I'll take my chances with the ghosts," you laughed, snatching the bear back and tossing it onto your bed.
Once the suitcase was finally zipped shut, Jungkook grabbed the handle and lifted it effortlessly, checking his imaginary watch. "Alright, let's move out. The Jeon Express is leaving the station."
You walked into the bathroom to quickly wash your face and brush your teeth. Your reflection looked a bit tired, with faint dark circles under your eyes, but the tears had completely stopped. You tied your hair up into a messy, casual bun and walked out to the parking lot.
The bright summer sun hit your face, making you squint. Jungkook was already leaning against the hood of his clean black car, holding two large iced coffees from the café down the street. He didn't say anything heavy or emotional as you approached. He just handed you the plastic cup, his warm, thick fingers brushing against yours for a brief second.
Before you could pull the passenger door open, Jungkook stepped directly into your path, blocking you. He was much taller than you, shadowing you completely from the bright light.
He reached out, his large thumb pressing gently against your cheek. He carefully wiped away a tiny, dried tear track that you had missed near your ear. His touch was incredibly soft, completely different from his usual clumsy, rough-and-tumble energy.
He looked straight down into your eyes, his voice dropping into a quiet, remarkably gentle tone. "Hey. No more crying about that guy on this trip. From this moment on, you only laugh with me. Deal?"
You stared up at his dark, clear eyes, completely caught off guard by how serious he looked for that single second. You nodded slowly, a genuine smile pulling at your lips. "Deal."
"Awesome!" Jungkook yelled instantly, completely shattering the quiet, sweet moment as he slammed his hand down onto the roof of the car and hopped into the driver's seat. "Get in, loser! We have snacks to buy and miles to burn!"
You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt as Jungkook cranked up the engine. The car filled with the cool blast of the air conditioner, and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you looked over at him. He was already tapping his fingers happily against the steering wheel, completely ready for the road. The sadness was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, but looking at his bright, energetic smile, you knew this road trip was going to be exactly what you needed.
…
The first two hours of the road trip were an absolute, unmitigated war zone. Specifically, a war over who controlled the car's Bluetooth settings, and neither of you was willing to sign a peace treaty.
The highway stretched out infinitely ahead of you, a long ribbon of gray asphalt surrounded by massive, rolling green hills and a perfectly clear blue sky. It was a textbook summer day. The windows were rolled down halfway, filling the car with a loud, roaring rush of wind that blew your hair completely wildly across your face and brought in the fresh scent of cut grass.
You were slouched deeply in the passenger seat, your knees propped against the dashboard, staring out at the passing green trees. For a brief minute, the noise of the wind faded into the background of your mind, and your brain tried to slide back into thinking about your ex. You felt that familiar, annoying little sting in your throat, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Automatically, wanting to drown out the silence, your hand reached toward the glowing dashboard screen to connect your phone.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jungkook asked suddenly. He didn't take his eyes off the highway, but his upper body instantly leaned toward the center console like a guard dog protecting a bone.
"I’m just trying to play a song," you said, pulling up a playlist of very quiet, very sad indie acoustic ballads. "Just background music for the drive."
"Absolutely not," Jungkook said, pressing his foot down on the gas pedal to pass a slow-moving semi-truck. "I know that exact tone of voice. You’re about to play one of those depressing songs where the singer sounds like they’re whispering while crying in a dark closet. This car is a designated heartbreak-free zone. No sad guitars allowed on my watch."
"Jungkook, it’s a beautiful song! Just let me play one!" you argued, reaching your fingers closer to the touchscreen. "It sets a peaceful mood!"
"Peaceful? Sweets, that song makes people want to stare out a rainy window and question their entire existence," he countered.
In one lightning-fast move, Jungkook snatched the charging cable, plugged it into his own phone, and slapped his device firmly into the cup holder. "Too bad. The captain has taken total control of the vessel. Prepare your ears for actual quality."
A ridiculously loud, incredibly upbeat pop song from 2012 blasted through the car speakers. The beat was incredibly fast, and entirely impossible to take seriously. It was a song you hadn't heard since high school, filled with cheesy dramatic bass drops.
You let out a massive groan, covering your face with both hands as the speakers rattled. "Oh my god, please no. Not this song. Turn it off right now! I will actually jump out of the moving vehicle, I swear to god."
Jungkook completely ignored your suffering. His face lit up with pure, unadulterated mischief. He snatched his half-empty plastic water bottle from the holder, gripping it tightly like a professional microphone. He started belting out the lyrics at the absolute top of his lungs, intentionally hitting every single high note completely out of tune. He bounced his shoulders to the rhythm, his head bobbing wildly as he kept his eyes safely glued to the road.
"Come on! I know you know the chorus! Don't lie to me!" he shouted over the blaring music, shoving the top of the water bottle toward your face like an aggressive reporter.
"I am absolutely not participating in this," you laughed, trying your hardest to maintain a stern, annoyed expression, but failing completely. You tried to swat the water bottle away, but he just leaned closer, his voice getting even louder and more ridiculous.
When the main chorus hit, Jungkook did a dramatic, slow-motion hair shake, turning his head just enough to give you a ridiculous, cheesy wink through his dark sunglasses. He looked so absurd—this highly muscular, broad-shouldered guy who spent five days a week lifting heavy weights at the gym, singing a sugary girl-pop anthem with the passion of a stadium performer.
The ridiculousness of the sight was too much. You burst into a loud, hysterical laugh that completely filled the space of the car, your ribs aching. Hearing you laugh only made Jungkook grow more confident. He started doing little seated dance moves, tapping his fingers wildly against the steering wheel and wiggling his eyebrows at you.
By the time the fourth song came on, you completely threw away your dignity. You grabbed an empty plastic coffee cup to use as your own microphone, rolled your window down all the way, and joined him. You both screamed the ridiculous lyrics out into the open air as the highway blurred past, your voices cracking on the high notes. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the heavy, suffocating cloud in your head was totally gone. You weren't a dumped ex-girlfriend wallowing in self-pity. You were just you, acting like a complete idiot with your best friend.
"We need a strategy," Jungkook said solemnly as you walked through the sliding glass doors of the convenience store. The air conditioning hit you like an icy wall, smelling faintly of stale coffee and hot dogs. "We can't just pick random snacks. We need a perfect balance of salty, sweet, sour, and a wild card."
"A wild card?" you asked, eyebrow raised as you grabbed a small plastic shopping basket.
"Yes. Something we have never tried before, or something that looks mildly dangerous to eat," he explained, completely serious. He marched straight over to the chip aisle, his eyes scanning the shelves like a scientist. "For salty, we are obviously going with the giant bag of sour cream and onion. It's a classic. No debate."
"Fine, but I get to choose the sweet snack," you argued, stepping past him to grab a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels. "These are mandatory."
Jungkook looked at the bag, then down at you, nodding slowly in approval. "Excellent choice. The salt-to-chocolate ratio is highly efficient. I respect it." He then wandered over to the candy section, holding up a box of extremely sour gummy worms. "For sour, we go with these. They look like they will strip the enamel right off our teeth. Perfect."
"And what’s the wild card?" you asked, following him as he walked over to a weird display near the cash register.
He pointed a finger at a dusty jar containing massive, bright pink pickled sausages floating in cloudy liquid. "Those. They look like an alien life form."
"Absolutely not, Jungkook! I am not letting you eat a radioactive sausage in your car. The smell will never leave the fabric," you shrieked, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the counter.
Jungkook laughed, a rich, bouncy sound that made his chest shake against your hand. He let you drag him toward the drink cooler, where he immediately grabbed three bottles of sweet banana milk and an iced coffee for you. "Fine, no alien sausages. But if we run out of fuel for our brains, I’m blaming you."
By the time you reached the register, your basket was completely overflowing with junk food. Jungkook pulled out his wallet before you could even reach for yours, tossing his card to the cashier with a confident smirk.
"I told you, I’m funding the snack department on this trip," he said, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully. "Your money is no good here, sweets."
"You're just trying to buy my affection so I don't roast your music taste anymore," you teased, grabbing the heavy plastic bag as the cashier handed it over.
"Is it working?" he asked, flashing a quick, bunny-toothed grin as he pushed the exit door open for you.
"Slightly," you admitted, popping a chocolate pretzel into your mouth as you walked back out into the bright, baking afternoon heat. "The banana milk definitely helped your case."
Back on the road, the smooth, flat highway slowly began to change. The scenery grew more crowded with large patches of trees, and the road began to tilt upward as you approached the lower hills of the mountain range.
It was around this time that Jungkook’s "perfect internal navigation system," which he had spent the last thirty miles bragging about, proved to be an absolute, unmitigated disaster.
"Jungkook," you said, leaning forward in your seat and squinting through the windshield as the smooth asphalt slowly transitioned into a bumpy, unpaved road. "The giant yellow sign we passed back there definitely said 'Road Closed Ahead.' Like, in giant, flashing bold letters."
"Don't worry about it, it’s fine. The main highway has a massive traffic backup according to my radar. I’m taking a highly calculated shortcut," he said smoothly, spinning the leather steering wheel to the right with total, unearned confidence. "Trust the process. I have an internal compass. It's an instinct, really. My ancestors were probably navigators."
"Your ancestors probably didn't have to deal with dead ends, Jungkook," you muttered, holding onto the door handle as the car jolted over a particularly deep pothole.
The road grew narrower and narrower, the thick trees closing in on either side until branches were lightly brushing against the side mirrors. The GPS screen on the dashboard had completely lost its mind, showing your little car icon spinning in circles in the middle of a massive green void.
Ten minutes later, the road completely ended. It didn't just narrow down—it stopped dead at a rotten wooden farm fence. On the other side of the fence stood three very large, very brown, and very confused-looking cows. They stopped chewing their grass to stare directly through the windshield at your car.
The car went completely silent except for the low, quiet idling hum of the engine.
You turned your head very slowly on the headrest to look at him. Jungkook was still gripping the steering wheel with both hands, staring blankly through the glass at the cows. His mouth was slightly open, his brain actively processing the absolute defeat.
The silence stretched on for a solid thirty seconds.
"Wow," you whispered softly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Incredible shortcut, captain. Truly magnificent. Should I roll down the passenger window and ask the middle cow for the fastest route back to civilization, or do you want to handle the negotiations?"
Jungkook’s ears instantly turned a bright, burning shade of pink, the color creeping up from his collar. He cleared his throat loudly, stubbornly refusing to look at you at first. He squeezed the steering wheel tightly, then let out a tiny, embarrassed, high-pitched giggle that he tried to disguise as a cough.
"Hey... honestly, sweets, they look like they know the area," he mumbled, finally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "They look like locals. They probably have a lot of wisdom."
"Admission of total defeat, Jeon. Say the words," you teased, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could lean your upper body completely across the center console, getting directly into his line of sight. "I want to hear you say it."
"Fine! I whined," he groaned, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically and letting his head fall back against the seat. "We are completely, utterly lost. My internal compass is broken. The ancestors lied to me. You win the navigation trophy. Happy now?"
"Incredibly happy," you laughed loudly, reaching your hand completely across his lap to grab his phone from the plastic dashboard mount so you could check the real map. "Now give me the device so we don't end up living in a barn with your new friends."
Because you had lunged over so quickly without thinking, your shoulder bumped hard against his broad chest. Your hand froze right on the screen of his phone.
Jungkook froze instantly beneath you. He didn't pull back. You froze too, your breath hitching as you suddenly realized exactly how close your faces were.
From this distance, the loud wind from outside felt completely quiet. The playful, chaotic energy that had filled the car for hours vanished in a single fraction of a second. You were leaning completely over his lap, your face mere inches from his. You could smell the sharp, clean, woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with the faint sweetness of the mint gum he was chewing.
His dark, round eyes were incredibly wide, staring straight down into your face. In the dimming afternoon light inside the car, his jawline looked remarkably sharp. For a tiny, terrifyingly unexpected second, his gaze dropped from your eyes down to your lips, lingering there for a heavy beat before snapping back up.
Your brain suddenly realized, with terrifying clarity, that Jungkook was very large, very solid, and entirely a grown man.
The silence lasted a second too long, the tension stretching tight like a rubber band.
Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, the sound a bit rougher than usual. He broke the weird spell by gently wrapping his large fingers around your wrist to help guide the phone into your hand, his skin burning hot against yours. He flashed a slightly forced, goofy grin to shatter the moment. "Here. Take it, captain. Save us from the cows."
"Thanks," you whispered, your voice a little breathless as you scrambled back into your own seat as fast as possible. Your heart was thumping a little too fast, a deep, hot blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks as you quickly stared down at the phone screen, praying he wouldn't notice.
"Alright," you said after a minute, desperately trying to keep your voice level and normal as you tapped the map screen. "If you put the car in reverse and back up about fifty yards, there’s a small tractor path that loops back to the main county road."
"On it," Jungkook said, clearly glad for the distraction. He threw the car into reverse, throwing his right arm over the back of your headrest so he could look out the rear window as he backed up.
Having his large arm stretched out right behind your neck made you feel incredibly small, his biceps flexing just inches from your face. You kept your eyes glued to the phone screen, pretending to study the map with intense interest, though the lines were completely blurring together.
"See? I told you I'd get us off the beaten path," Jungkook joked as the car successfully bounced back onto the main paved road a few minutes later. The playful, easygoing banter was returning, but the air in the car felt slightly different now—warmer, charged with a tiny, lingering spark that neither of you knew how to acknowledge.
"You got us into a staring contest with livestock, Jungkook," you retorted, rolling your eyes but letting out a soft laugh. "Let's just stick to the actual road from now on."
"Fines," he chuckled, tapping his fingers against the wheel as the highway finally began to wind upward into the beautiful, dark green mountains. "But if we see a cool waterfall on a dirt path, I'm not making any promises."
…
By the time you finally reached the higher mountain region, the bright summer sky had completely vanished. It was replaced by heavy, bruised-looking purple clouds. A sudden, massive downpour began to slam against the windshield, the rain coming down so thick that the wipers struggled to keep up with the sheets of water.
The GPS led you down a narrow, winding road that cut through massive forests covered in thick gray mist. It felt like you were driving straight into a movie scene. Finally, the car pulled up to a small, rustic wooden cabin nestled tightly between the trees. The yellow porch light cast a warm, blurry glow through the dark storm.
"We made it alive," Jungkook said, turning off the ignition. The sudden silence inside the car, save for the loud drumming of rain on the metal roof, felt incredibly heavy.
He looked over at you, noticing that you were shivering slightly from the sudden drop in the mountain temperature. Without saying a single word, he reached into the back seat, grabbed his spare, giant black hoodie, and dumped it right into your lap.
"Put that on before you turn into an ice cube," he said smoothly. "You're shaking."
The hoodie was completely massive on you. When you pulled it over your head, it smelled entirely like his clean laundry detergent and faint mint gum. The sleeves completely swallowed your hands, extending way past your fingers, but it was incredibly warm. You buried your nose into the high collar, instantly feeling a sense of absolute safety.
Getting the luggage inside, however, turned into a complete comedy. Jungkook, determined to show off his weekly gym progress, insisted on carrying both your giant suitcase and his heavy duffel bag at the exact same time. He grabbed both handles, took three highly confident, heavy steps toward the wooden porch, and suddenly, the cheap zipper on his overstuffed duffel bag completely popped open.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jungkook muttered, freezing in place.
Before he could drop the bags, half of his packed clothes—including five pairs of bright neon socks and his favorite oversized gaming t-shirts—spilled out onto the wet, rainy wooden steps.
You stood safely under the porch roof, burying your face in your hands as you tried to suffocate your laughter. Jungkook scrambled around in the pouring rain, frantically scooping up his wet laundry with a deeply panicked, embarrassed expression.
"Don't look at me!" he yelled dramatically, clutching a bundle of wet gray sweatpants to his chest like a shield. "This is completely destroying my cool image!"
"You don't have a cool image!" you shouted back, laughing until your stomach hurt as you helped him grab the last few stray shirts and pulled him inside the warm cabin.
The interior of the place was beautiful—all dark wood walls, a stone fireplace, and a massive glass window looking out at the rainy woods. But the second you both walked into the bedroom area, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There was only one bed. It was a massive, king-sized bed with fluffy white comforters and a mountain of pillows, sitting right in the center of the room.
"Wait a minute," you said, quickly pulling up the email confirmation on your phone. "I definitely selected the option for two twin beds. I checked the box."
Jungkook walked back out to the small main office by the lobby, returning a few minutes later while scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, so... turns out there was a massive booking glitch because of the storm. A bunch of travelers got stranded on the highway, so the place is completely full. This is the only room left in the entire place."
You looked at the single, giant bed, and then you looked at Jungkook.
In the past, sharing a sleeping space wouldn't have made you blink. You had known this guy forever. You had fallen asleep on his bedroom floor while playing video games a million times. It was always safe, always platonic, always totally effortless. But right now, standing in the dim, warm light of the cabin, the atmosphere felt completely different.
He wasn't the scrawny kid from next door anymore. He was a grown man with heavy shoulders and a presence that suddenly made the bedroom feel very, very small.
"Hey," Jungkook said softly, noticing your sudden silence. He stepped closer, clearly misinterpreting your expression. He thought you were getting sad about your ruined romantic plans again. "Look, if you’re uncomfortable, I can easily sleep on the floor. Or I can just crash in the back seat of the car. It’s seriously no big deal, sweets. Don't worry about it."
You looked at his damp hair, a few wet strands sticking to his forehead from the rain, and his wide, genuinely concerned eyes. You felt a wave of guilt for making him feel like an intruder.
"No, don't be ridiculous," you said, forcing a loud, casual laugh to clear the weird, awkward tension in the air. "It's a massive bed. We can just put a line of pillows down the middle. Like we did when we were kids. If your foot crosses over to my territory, I’m kicking you out."
Jungkook’s entire face instantly brightened, his familiar bunny smile returning in full force. "Oh, it's on. If you steal the blankets, I'm charging you a late fee."
After a highly sophisticated dinner of instant spicy ramen that you bought from the lobby store, the night grew late. The heavy rain outside continued to beat a loud, steady rhythm against the glass window. The cabin was incredibly warm, heated by the small electric fireplace in the corner.
You had changed into comfortable sweatpants but kept his giant hoodie on, the fabric keeping you completely cozy. Jungkook had changed into low-slung gray sweatpants and a simple, tight black t-shirt that showed off the lines of his arms.
You both climbed into the massive bed, keeping an intentional, wide gap of white sheet between your bodies, with a long fortress of pillows stacked neatly down the center. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling, listening to the storm.
"Hey," Jungkook’s voice was surprisingly quiet, cutting through the dark room. He was lying on his side, facing your direction, his head propped up by his hand.
"Yeah?" you asked, turning your head toward him.
Jungkook looked at you through the gap in the pillows. The playful, goofy expression was gone. He looked serious, his dark eyes analyzing you carefully. "Can I ask you something? And you have to promise not to get mad or throw a pillow at my face."
"Depends on the question," you muttered, shifting slightly under the heavy blanket.
"Why are you actually crying so much over this guy?" he asked bluntly, his voice grounded and steady.
You blinked, caught completely off guard. "What do you mean? He broke up with me right before a vacation. It's normal to be sad."
Jungkook let out a low, quiet huff that sounded like a laugh, but it wasn't mean. He rested his chin on his forearm, staring directly into your eyes. "Sweets, let’s be entirely real for a second. That guy was a total time pass. For both of you."
"He was not!" you protested, though your voice lacked real conviction.
"He absolutely was," Jungkook countered smoothly, his tone incredibly calm. "You guys dated for what, eight months? And half the time, you forgot to even text him back because you were too busy baking or watching a show. You never talked about a future with him. You never even looked excited when he called. When he was around, it was just... convenient. It was a habit."
You opened your mouth to argue, but the words completely died in your throat. You stared up at the ceiling, your heart thumping against your ribs as his words sank in.
"I stayed back and didn't say anything because it wasn't my place," Jungkook continued softly, his voice dropping into a lower, gentler register. "I honestly thought you weren't even serious about him. I thought if you broke up, you’d just say 'oh well' and move on. So seeing you completely turn into a blanket burrito and weep for twelve hours straight... it doesn't make sense. You didn't love him, sweets."
"Then why does it hurt so much?" you whispered, your voice suddenly feeling very small, very raw in the dark cabin. A tiny, hot tear slipped down the side of your face, soaking into the pillow. "Why am I so miserable?"
Jungkook didn't answer with words right away. Instead, you felt the mattress shift heavily. He didn't cross the pillow barrier completely, but he reached his large, warm hand over the top of the cushions. His long fingers gently found yours under the edge of the blanket.
He didn't squeeze your hand hard, but his grip was incredibly steady, anchor-like. His skin was burning hot against your cold fingers.
"Because your pride is hurt," Jungkook said softly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your face in the dim orange glow of the fireplace. "He rejected you, and nobody likes being rejected. It makes you feel lonely. It makes you feel like you failed at something. But you're missing the habit, not the person. You deserve someone who isn't just a 'time pass,'. You deserve someone who actually makes you feel alive."
You stared at him through the darkness, your breath completely catching in your throat.
His large thumb began to slowly, casually stroke the back of your hand, a tiny, repetitive movement that sent a strange, electric shiver straight up your arm. You were acutely, terrifyingly aware of how large he was, how close he was sitting on the other side of those pillows.
Your brain completely short-circuited. You had spent months telling yourself that your ex was the partner you were supposed to have, but standing next to Jungkook's sudden, intense emotional maturity, that entire relationship felt like a joke. The deep, unconditional comfort you felt with Jungkook right now—the way he read your mind, the way he knew exactly what you needed without you asking—it felt dangerously close to what real love was supposed to look like.
No, you told yourself fiercely, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs. You are just lonely. You are just emotional because of the breakup, so you are projecting onto your best friend. It’s just the cozy cabin setting making things weird.
"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to pull yourself back to reality.
"Yeah?" he murmured, his eyes dropping to your mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back up to meet your gaze.
"You're being entirely too smart for a guy who got lost because of three cows," you teased weakly, trying to bring back the safe, funny dynamic before the physical tension completely swallowed you whole.
Jungkook froze for a second, then let out a rich, quiet chuckle, the heavy, romantic spell breaking just enough for both of you to breathe. He didn't let go of your hand, though. He kept his fingers loosely intertwined with yours over the pillows, his warmth keeping you grounded.
"Just admit I’m right. It’ll save us a lot of time." he grumbled playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You're mildly right," you admitted, a genuine, soft smile finally pulling at your lips as you closed your eyes. "Just a little bit."
"I'll take it," he whispered.
…
The following morning, the mountain storm had completely vanished, leaving behind a crisp, beautifully blue sky. The air smelled of fresh pine and wet earth. After a quick breakfast of slightly burnt toast that Jungkook managed to overcook while trying to do a celebratory dance in the kitchen, you both loaded up the car and drove further south, descending the winding mountain roads toward a historic coastal town known for its gorgeous beaches.
The three-hour drive was filled with more loud music and Jungkook trying to explain the entire deep history of a sci-fi video game with intense hand gestures that almost made him miss an exit, but it kept you laughing the entire way. The heavy, emotional conversation from the night before wasn't mentioned again, but something had fundamentally shifted. Every time his hand brushed yours near the gear shift, or every time he called you sweets with that low, casual roll of his voice, your stomach did a tiny, nervous flip.
It's just the post-breakup rebound brain, you told yourself firmly, staring out at the passing blue ocean. He's just my best friend being a good guy. And you were confident about that feeling.
By the time the afternoon sun was high and baking, you finally arrived at your next stop: a stunning, incredibly luxurious boutique hotel built right on the edge of a massive cliff overlooking the sparkling sea. It looked like a place where millionaires vacationed, complete with a grand marble lobby, high ceilings, and giant floor-to-ceiling glass walls showing off the crashing waves below.
"Wow," Jungkook muttered under his breath, adjusting the strap of his heavy duffel bag as you both walked across the polished floors. "You really went all out on this booking. I feel like I need to apologize to the floor for stepping on it with my sneakers."
"I saved up for six months for this specific stop," you said, pulling out your ID as you walked up to the grand marble front desk. "It was supposed to be the highlight of the trip."
The receptionist, an older woman with a very neat bun and a sharp, elegant uniform, typed into her computer. Her polite smile quickly faltered into a worried frown as she tapped the keyboard a few more times. "Oh, dear. It looks like we have a bit of a major system glitch today. Your reservation for a standard queen room was accidentally cancelled during our server update this morning."
Your stomach instantly dropped. "What? But I already received the confirmation email weeks ago. Is there another standard room?"
"I see that, and I am deeply sorry," the woman explained nicely, looking genuinely apologetic. "The issue is that we are completely booked tonight due to the local seafood festival. The absolute only room we have left available in the entire building is our top-tier Honeymoon Luxury Suite."
You winced, already anticipating the terrible answer. "How much extra is the upgrade fee?"
The receptionist checked her screen. "Normally, it is double the standard price. However, since it was our technical error, our policy allows me to give it to you for a very small, flat fee... if you are actually celebrating an anniversary or a honeymoon. It’s a strict rule for that specific luxury suite because of the promotional packages."
You opened your mouth, completely prepared to tell the truth, admit you were just friends, and accept the depressing fact that you’d probably have to spend the night sleeping in the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car down the street.
But before a single word could leave your lips, Jungkook smoothly stepped forward. Without warning, he slid a heavy, confident arm completely around your waist, yanking you firmly against his side. His grip was incredibly strong, remarkably warm, and shockingly casual, pressing your hip right against his thigh.
"Actually," Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a smooth, deeply charming register that you had never heard him use in his entire life. He looked down at you with an incredibly sweet, star-struck smile that looked terrifyingly real. "It’s our honeymoon. We literally just got married three days ago. Right, sweets?"
Your entire brain completely shutting down. Your eyes went wide with absolute shock, your body freezing under the intense heat of his arm wrapped around you. Jungkook gave your waist a subtle, firm little warning squeeze, his dark eyes pleading with you to just play along with the lie.
"Uh... yes! Absolutely!" you stammered out, forcing a high-pitched, awkward laugh that sounded completely insane to your own ears. "Yes! We are... newlyweds! Just so deeply in love. So much love between us."
The receptionist’s professional face instantly melted into a warm, excited grin. "Oh, congratulations! How absolutely wonderful. In that case, the Honeymoon Suite is officially yours, and I will waive the upgrade fee entirely as a wedding gift from the hotel management."
"Thank you so much, we really appreciate it," Jungkook said, flashing his perfect, white teeth as he took the gold room key card.
The exact millisecond the elevator doors slid shut and you were completely alone, you turned around and slapped his muscular arm hard. "Are you completely out of your mind? What was that?"
Jungkook let out a massive, booming laugh, rubbing his arm where you hit him even though it didn't hurt him at all. His arm dropped away from your waist, and you were deeply annoyed by how suddenly cold your side felt without his hand there.
"Hey! I just saved us a thousand dollars and got us a literal celebrity suite," he said proudly, jiggling the gold key card in front of your nose. "You should be thanking your highly attractive new husband."
"Don't say weird jokes like that," you mumbled, your face burning intensely hot as the elevator shot upward. "We have to keep pretending now. What if the staff sees us in the lobby later? We can't break character."
"Then we just act all lovey-dovey," Jungkook teased, leaning his face down closer to yours with a dramatic, exaggerated pout. "Do you want to practice holding hands right now? I can kiss your cheek if you want to make it look believable for the security cameras."
"Shut up, Jungkook," you laughed, shoving his broad chest away, but your stomach was doing wild, terrifying acrobatics. Touching his chest felt different now—less like a joke and more like an dangerous reminder of how solid he was.
The Honeymoon Suite was completely ridiculous. It was massive, featuring a private outdoor balcony built directly over the crashing waves, a private hot tub, and a giant king bed covered entirely in fresh, bright red rose petals shaped into a giant heart.
"Oh, man," Jungkook laughed, walking over to the bed, scooping up a handful of rose petals, and blowing them into the air like confetti. "They really went full romance mode. Look at this. It's like a movie set."
You walked past him out onto the sunlit balcony, leaning your hands against the stone railing to escape the enclosed space of the room. The view was breathtaking. The endless blue ocean stretched out to the horizon, the waves crashing loudly against the rocks far below. The salty, warm sea breeze blew through your hair, cooling your hot cheeks.
Jungkook walked out a second later, standing right next to you. He rested his muscular forearms on the railing, looking out at the water. In the bright afternoon sunlight, his profile looked incredibly sharp. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and his jawline looked striking.
"It’s really beautiful here," he said softly, turning his head to look at you.
You looked up, meeting his eyes. For a long, quiet moment, his expression wasn't playful or teasing at all. His dark eyes looked deep, intense, and incredibly serious. He stared down at you with a heavy look that made your breath completely catch in your throat.
"Yeah," you whispered, your heart thudding violently against your ribs. You were completely unsure if your brain was talking about the ocean view or the boy standing right next to you. "It really is."
Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, turning his head back to the water, a faint pink color dusting the tips of his ears.
With several hours to kill before dinner, Jungkook decided the beach was calling. He changed into a pair of simple black swim shorts and a loose white t-shirt, while you threw on a casual beach dress over your swimsuit.
The hotel's private beach was a secluded cove of soft, white sand trapped between towering cliffs. The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in warm shades of gold.
"Race you to the water!" Jungkook yelled the second your feet hit the sand, completely shattering the lingering awkwardness from the balcony.
"Hey! No fair, you have longer legs!" you shrieked, running after him as he kicked off his sandals, laughing wildly.
He didn't actually dive into the water; instead, he stopped right at the shoreline, letting the cool, foamy waves lap at his ankles. When you caught up to him, out of breath and laughing, he suddenly scooped up a handful of ocean water and splashed it directly at your legs.
"Jungkook! It’s freezing!" you screamed, instantly splashing him back.
What followed was a full-scale water war. Jungkook took the brunt of your splashes, dramatically throwing his arms up and pretending to be defeated by your attacks, his loud, rich laughter echoing against the cliffs. He was careful not to splash you too hard, always making sure you were having fun.
Eventually, soaked and completely exhausted from laughing, you both collapsed onto a large beach towel you had spread out on the dry sand, just out of reach of the tide. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the golden clouds, your chest rising and falling.
Jungkook propped himself up on his elbow next to you, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, sending a few stray drops of water onto your arm.
"Hey! Watch it!" you complained, giggling as you swatted at him.
"Sorry, sweets," he chuckled, his voice soft. He didn't look away this time. He stayed propped up, his dark eyes tracing the lines of your face as you smiled. The casual use of the nickname didn't feel like a joke anymore. It felt heavy.
"You know," you said quietly, trying to keep the mood light as you stared at the sky. "My ex never wanted to go to the beach. He said sand was too messy and annoying to clean out of the car."
Jungkook let out a small, flat sound from his throat. "Like I said, the guy was a time pass. A real partner doesn't care about a little sand if it means making you laugh."
You turned your head to look at him. He was looking down at you with such an intense, steady warmth that your breath completely caught. He wasn't moving closer, he wasn't overstepping, but the emotional security he was offering you was terrifying.
Your mind instantly went into overdrive. You are just comparing him to your ex because you're hurt, you lectured yourself frantically. Don't read into it. Don't ruin the best friendship you have.
"Well," you whispered, forcing a playful smirk onto your face despite the frantic thumping of your heart. "You're definitely messy, Jeon. Look at your hair."
Jungkook blinked, the intense look dissolving into a goofy crinkle of his eyes as he rubbed his messy, wet locks. "Hey, this is beach style. People pay a lot of money for this look."
You laughed, rolling your eyes, but as you both lay there watching the sun slowly dip toward the horizon, the silence between you felt completely charged. The lines were blurring faster than you could count, and you were running out of excuses to tell your own heart.
…
The golden hue of the sunset had completely melted into a deep, velvety indigo by the time you both made it back upstairs to the Honeymoon Suite. The ocean outside was a dark, roaring shadow beneath the balcony, its rhythm steady and heavy. Inside, the room felt incredibly warm, the scent of the fresh rose petals still hanging thick and sweet in the air.
You were both completely exhausted, your skin radiating that pleasant, slightly tight heat that only comes from a full day under the summer sun and salt water.
"I am so hungry I could actually eat that wooden door frame," Jungkook groaned, throwing himself flat across the giant king bed, entirely unbothered by the fact that he was crushing the neatly arranged heart of rose petals. He splayed his arms and legs out, letting out a long, dramatic sigh into the pillows. "We need food. Immediately. If I don't get protein in the next ten minutes, I am going to wither away into a shadow."
"You're not going to wither away, you dramatic infant," you laughed, walking over to the small desk to pick up the leather-bound room service menu. "Let’s see what they have."
As you flipped through the glossy pages, your eyes widened slightly at the menu options. Because it was a dedicated luxury honeymoon suite, the room service wasn't just standard burgers and fries. Everything was explicitly organized for couples.
"Uh, Jungkook?" you called out, biting your lower lip nervously. "They have a 'Lovers' Seafood Platter' for two, a 'Sweetheart Fondue Share-Box,' and... a complimentary bottle of champagne that comes automatically with any evening dinner order for newlyweds."
Jungkook popped his head up from the pillows, his dark eyes instantly lighting up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Complimentary champagne? And a giant platter of seafood? Sweets, call them right now. Give them the fake wedding details. Tell them we are absolutely famished from all our deep, eternal newlywed love."
"Jungkook, we are going to get caught," you warned, but a small, bubbly laugh escaped you anyway.
"We won't get caught! We are committed to the bit," he insisted, scrambling off the bed and marching over to you. He leaned his shoulder against yours, looking down at the menu over your arm. He was so close you could feel the physical heat radiating off his chest, still smelling faintly of ocean salt and his clean deodorant. "Look, just put on your best 'happily married' voice. You can do it."
With a deep breath, you picked up the vintage-style room phone and dialed the kitchen. The second the staff answered, Jungkook leaned his head right next to yours, his cheek almost brushing your ear so he could overhear the call, his quiet, bouncy giggles vibrating against your shoulder.
"Hi, yes, we’d like to order the Lovers' Seafood Platter, please," you said, trying desperately to sound mature and sophisticated while Jungkook actively made ridiculous, kissy-faces at you to try and make you crack. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out. "Yes, room 402. And... yes, we are the newlyweds from this afternoon. Thank you."
The second you hung up the receiver, you turned around and shoved his chest hard. "You are the absolute worst! I almost choked on my own spit because you were making those stupid faces!"
Jungkook stumbled back a step, laughing that rich, loud, bunny-toothed laugh that always made your chest feel tight. "But you didn't crack! You handled it like a professional liar. I'm proud of you, wifey."
"Stop calling me that," you mumbled, your face instantly flushing a violent, brilliant shade of pink. You quickly turned your back to him, pretending to look out the dark window so he wouldn't see the massive effect his stupid, casual jokes were having on your heart rate.
Thirty minutes later, a loud, polite knock echoed at the heavy wooden door.
"I've got it," Jungkook called out, eagerly jogging over to the entrance.
You sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, smoothing down the edges of your oversized t-shirt. The door opened, and a young hotel waiter rolled in a massive, silver room service cart covered in a white linen tablecloth. On top was an absolute mountain of fresh crab legs, grilled shrimp, oysters, and two glowing candles in glass holders. Resting in a silver bucket of crushed ice was a sweat-beaded bottle of expensive champagne.
"Complimentary champagne for the beautiful newlyweds," the waiter said with a warm, respectful bow, lifting the bottle to pop the cork with a smooth, professional pop. He poured the sparkling liquid into two elegant crystal flutes. "The hotel management hopes your marriage is as beautiful and endless as the ocean view tonight."
"Thank you, man. I appreciate it," Jungkook said smoothly.
Before the waiter could turn to leave, he glanced at the large king bed, noticing the scattered rose petals, and then he looked back at the table. He picked up a small, elegant white box from the lower shelf of the cart—something that hadn't been on the menu.
"And a special, complimentary dessert from our pastry chef," the waiter added, a knowing, slightly playful smile on his face as he placed it right between the candles. "Our signature 'Aphrodite Chocolate Molten Cake.' It is designed to be shared... with only one spoon."
You almost choked on thin air. Your eyes darted to the single, shiny silver spoon resting on top of the box.
"Perfect. My favorite," Jungkook said without skipping a single beat. He reached into his pocket, handed the waiter a very generous cash tip, and bid him a good night.
The second the door clicked shut, the room fell into a heavy, quiet stillness. The two tiny candle flames flickered gently in the draft from the balcony, casting long, dancing shadows across the dark wood walls.
Jungkook walked back over to the cart, looking down at the single spoon, then up at you. The easy, confident swagger he had used with the waiter seemed to evaporate, replaced by a sudden, slightly nervous clear of his throat.
"Well," he said, his voice dropping into a lower, quieter register as he pulled out a chair for you. "The guy said it’s a gift. It would be a crime against the pastry industry to let a chocolate cake go to waste."
"Right," you whispered, standing up on slightly shaky legs and sitting down across from him.
For the first twenty minutes, the food was the perfect distraction. You both cracked open crab legs, argued over who got the biggest grilled shrimp, and drank the bubbly champagne. Jungkook, completely true to form, ended up getting a drop of seafood sauce right on the front of his clean t-shirt, which led to a five-minute bickering match about how he was incapable of eating like a civilized human being.
It was safe. It was loud. It was exactly how you two had always been.
But then, the main platter was cleared away, leaving only the small white box in the center of the table. Jungkook reached out, his large fingers untying the silk ribbon and opening the cardboard flaps.
The dessert was beautiful—a dark, rich chocolate cake dusting with powdered sugar, its center visibly soft and oozing warm, dark chocolate fudge. And there, sitting right next to it, was the single silver spoon.
"Alright," Jungkook said, picking up the utensil. He scooped up a perfectly neat, warm bite of the cake, the rich chocolate dripping slightly. He didn't hand the spoon to you. Instead, he leaned across the small table, his dark, intense eyes locking onto yours as he held the spoon out toward your mouth. "Open up, sweets. Let's see if the chef is actually a professional."
You stared at him, your eyes wide. His large hand was incredibly steady, but you could see a tiny, barely noticeable muscle twitching in his sharp jawline. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't making a goofy face. He was looking at you with a heavy, unblinking intensity that made your entire soul feel exposed.
He’s just playing into the honeymoon joke, you tried to tell your screaming brain. It's just part of the bit.
But as you slowly leaned forward and let him slide the warm, sweet bite into your mouth, the flavor of the rich chocolate was completely overwhelmed by the sheer, terrifying proximity of his body. Your lips brushed lightly against the cold silver of the spoon, and you swore you saw Jungkook’s eyes darken for a fraction of a second, his gaze dropping straight to your mouth before snapping back to your eyes.
"Is it good?" he asked, his voice noticeably rougher, dropping into a quiet, raspy whisper that sent a sharp, electric shiver straight down your spine.
"Yeah," you breathed out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean waves outside. "It’s... really good."
Jungkook didn't pull back immediately. He stayed leaning across the table, his face just inches from yours in the dim, flickering candlelight. The silence stretched between you, heavy and magnetic, pulling you both in like an undertow.
In that single, agonizingly slow second, you didn't think about your ex-boyfriend once. The memory of that eight-month relationship felt like a faint, insignificant shadow from a completely different lifetime. It hadn't been real. It hadn't been deep. It had been a time pass. But this? The wild, chaotic, terrifyingly intense heat roaring through your veins right now as you stared into Jungkook's eyes?
This was real. This was the exact feeling you had been running away from because you were too scared to admit that your best friend had the power to completely destroy your entire world with a single look.
Jungkook slowly pulled the spoon back, his thumb casually wiping away a tiny speck of chocolate from his own knuckle. He didn't take a bite for himself. He just sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving your face, watching the deep, burning blush completely cover your cheeks.
"Good," he murmured, a small, knowing, and dangerously handsome smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Because we have a lot of cake left to finish."
…
The rich, sweet taste of the chocolate cake stayed in the air long after the silver room service cart had been pushed into the far corner of the suite. The two small candles on the table had burned down a lot. Their tiny, dying flames threw long, moving shadows across the white blanket of the giant king-sized bed.
Inside the room, the air felt completely heavy. The silence was no longer the comfortable, easy quiet of two people who had known each other since they were kids. It was thick, messy, and full of confusion. Every single sound—even the rustle of the curtains—felt entirely too loud.
You felt like you could not breathe. Your chest felt tight, and your brain was spinning out of control. Needing to escape the small room before you completely lost your mind, you stepped out onto the private balcony.
The cold air hit you like a physical shock. The big storm from the night before was completely gone, but the ocean breeze here was much stronger. It carried a sharp, icy chill. The wind blew the dark fabric of Jungkook’s massive black hoodie wildly around your legs. That heavy cotton shirt was the only warm thing you had. Far below the balcony, the dark, ink-like water of the sea slammed violently against the sharp rocks, throwing white sprays of water high into the moonlight.
You gripped the cold stone railing with both hands. Your knuckles turned completely white because you were holding on so tight. You leaned your weight forward, letting the freezing mist hit your face. You desperately wanted the cold air to fix your messy thoughts.
What are you doing? you asked yourself angrily, closing your eyes tight while your heart beat fast and hard against your ribs. He is your best friend. He is Jungkook. He is the guy who has seen you look like a total mess, the guy who used to help you with your high school homework. He is just being extra nice because your ex rejected you. Do not make this weird. If you mess this up, you will lose the only safe person you have left in your life.
But the excuse did not work anymore. It felt like a total lie. The way his dark eyes had looked at you when he fed you that single spoon of chocolate, the sudden, deep roughness in his voice—that was not just friendship. It was not a joke for the hotel staff. It was something heavy, something real, and it terrified you to your core. You were not ready for this. You were still hurting, still confused, and everything was moving way too fast.
The heavy glass sliding door behind you moved with a soft, smooth click.
You did not turn around. You did not need to. The roaring sound of the wind was incredibly loud, but your body knew exactly where he was. The familiar, comforting smell of his clean laundry and the woodsy scent of his cologne cut through the salty air instantly. It wrapped around you before he even said a word.
Jungkook walked up to the stone railing. He did not stand far away from you with a safe gap between your shoulders. Instead, he leaned his large, solid body right next to your elbow. He shifted so he was facing you completely, with his back to the dark ocean.
He had changed out of his wet beach clothes into a clean, soft white tank top and loose gray sweatpants. In the bright, clear light of the full moon, he looked completely different. The cool light showed the sharp lines of his broad shoulders, his heavy chest, and the dark tattoos wrapping all the way down his right arm. He looked so big, so real, and so grown-up.
He did not speak right away. He just stood there, his dark, heavy eyes locked onto the side of your face, watching the wind pull your hair across your cheeks. The silence stretched between you for a long, painful minute. It was full of a sad, heavy ache.
"You're hiding out here," he said quietly. His voice was not loud, and he was not smiling. The playful, goofy tone he always used was completely gone. It was low, deep, and steady.
"I am not hiding," you lied immediately. Your voice sounded small and shaky. You stubbornly kept your eyes fixed on a distant white wave out in the dark sea, completely refusing to look up at him. "I'm just looking at the water. It’s a nice view. I just wanted some fresh air."
"Sweets."
The low roll of the nickname made your stomach do a painful, panicked flip. Before you could step back or run away, Jungkook reached out. His large, warm hand gently cupped the side of your neck. His long fingers wrapped slightly around the back of your neck, and his thumb rested firmly against your jawline. The heat of his palm felt like fire against your cold skin. It sent a sharp, electric shiver straight up your spine.
Gently, but with a firm strength that you could not fight, he tilted your face up. He forced you to look away from the ocean until you had no choice but to look straight into his dark eyes.
"You've been avoiding my eyes since we ate," he said softly, his gaze searching your face with a sad, deep intensity. "Your hands are shaking. And it's not because of the cold wind."
Your breath completely caught in your throat. Up close, you could see the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You could see a tiny, serious twitch in his jaw. He was looking at you with so much raw emotion that it made you feel completely naked.
"Jungkook, don't," you whispered. Tears of pure stress and confusion started to fill your eyes. Your hands came up instinctively, pressing against his solid chest to try and push him away, but your fingers just ended up gripping his tight tank top. "Please don't do this. We need to stop. We are just playing a game for the hotel room. We need to stop making these jokes. It’s getting way too complicated. I can't handle it."
"Do you really think I’m joking?" he asked.
The question was so quiet, and so deeply sad, that it felt like the entire world stopped moving. The loud sound of the crashing waves below seemed to disappear.
Jungkook stepped even closer, his large, broad body completely blocking the freezing sea wind from hitting you. He trapped you between his big frame and the stone railing. He let his hand drop from your jawline, but he did not move away. Instead, he slid both of his large hands down to grip your waist. His fingers dug firmly into the thick fabric of his own oversized hoodie that you were wearing.
He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling with a deep, heavy breath.
"I haven't been joking once on this entire trip," Jungkook confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "I wasn't joking when I rolled you into a blanket burrito just to see you smile. I wasn't joking when I told that woman at the desk you were my wife. And I definitely wasn't joking when we were inside that room just now."
"Jungkook, please stop," you sobbed out, a sudden wave of heavy panic and grief hitting your chest. A single, hot tear ran down your cold cheek. "You don't understand. I just broke up with someone two days ago! My brain is completely broken right now. I am a total mess. I am lonely, and my pride hurts, and everything hurts. I am just projecting these weird feelings onto you because you are here, because you are safe—"
"I don't care about him," Jungkook cut you off. His voice was not angry, but it had a fierce, heavy certainty that made your words completely drop to the floor. He squeezed your waist slightly, his thumb moving gently against your hip. "I told you, sweets. That guy was a time pass. You didn't love him. You never looked at him the way a person looks at someone they actually want to keep. You are crying because you hate being rejected, not because you miss him."
You stared at him, your lips parted, your mind completely stunned by how well he knew you.
"The only reason I stayed back and let you date him for months without saying a single word was because I was a coward," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping to your mouth for a second before snapping back up to yours. "I was terrified that if I told you the truth, if I told you that I love you, you’d get scared. I thought you would run away from me, and the thought of losing you completely was something I could not survive."
He took another deep, shaky breath. His big shoulders dropped as if he was finally letting go of a massive secret he had carried for years.
"But then I had to sit in my apartment and listen to you sob at two in the morning over a guy who didn't even care about you," he murmured, his voice cracking with real pain. "I had to watch you ruin your own happiness over a relationship that was just a boring habit. It almost drove me crazy, sweets. I can't do it anymore. I can't keep standing here pretending that you're just my buddy. I haven't looked at you like a friend in three years."
The words hit you like a physical blow to the chest.
Three years.
While you were just living your life, going on boring dates, and staying in a relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been standing right next to you, holding his breath, guarding his heart, and waiting for you to see him. Every single memory you had with him over the last few years—the late-night drives, the way he always brought you your favorite snacks, the way he would drop everything to come fix things in your apartment—suddenly felt completely different.
It was never just "best friend" behavior. It was real, deep, and unconditional love.
But instead of feeling happy, a massive wave of anxiety washed over you. You felt sick to your stomach. It felt too heavy. You were raw from a breakup, your life was upside down, and now your best friend—the only anchor you had left—was changing all the rules.
"Jungkook, I can't," you whispered, more tears blurring your eyes. You felt so small beneath his steady gaze. You shook your head, pulling your hands back to your own chest. "It’s too much. I'm too messed up right now. I don't know what I feel. I don't know if I'm just lonely or if I'm losing my mind. I can't give you an answer. I can't promise you anything. If I ruin this, if I ruin us, I will have nobody left."
You covered your face with your hands, your shoulders shaking as you let out a real, heavy sob. The fear in your chest was completely crushing you. You were so terrified of losing his friendship that the thought of romance felt like a dangerous trap.
Seeing your complete panic and distress, the intense look in Jungkook's eyes instantly melted away. The large, muscular guy who looked so intimidating a second ago suddenly looked incredibly soft and gentle. He realized he was pushing you too hard when you were already broken.
He immediately let go of your waist. He did not pull away completely, but he took away the pressure. He raised his large hands and gently, carefully pulled your wrists away from your face. His touch was so light, like he was handling fragile glass.
"Hey, hey. Look at me, sweets. Breathe," he murmured softly, his voice full of total warmth and comfort. He shifted closer, leaning his head down until his forehead was resting gently against yours again. He closed his eyes, letting you feel the steady, warm rhythm of his breath. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I pushed too hard."
You stayed frozen, your forehead pressed against his, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"I know your head is spinning," Jungkook whispered into the tiny space between your faces. He took one of his large hands and gently rubbed the back of your head, soothing you. "I know you just went through a breakup and you are scared. I know you're worried about ruining what we have. Hear me clearly, okay? You don't have to give me an answer tonight. You don't have to figure anything out."
He opened his eyes, staring directly into yours from inches away. His gaze was completely patient, with zero pressure.
"I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't need you to magically fall into my arms right now," he said softly, his voice ringing with absolute honesty. "I just need you to be yourself. Take all the time you need. If you need to cry about that idiot for another week, cry. If you need to just be confused, be confused. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited three years, sweets. I can wait a little longer."
You let out a long, shaky breath, the heavy panic in your chest slowly starting to ease. You let your head slide down from his forehead until it rested against his broad, warm shoulder. The tight, painful knot of anxiety and loneliness that had been sitting in your chest finally started to relax.
He was not forcing you to choose. He was not giving you an ultimatum. Even when he confessed his deepest feelings, his main priority was still making sure you were okay.
Jungkook let out a massive, long sigh of pure relief when he felt you relax against him. His large arms moved securely around your back, pulling your body completely against his chest. He did not hold you tight enough to scare you, but he held you close enough to let you know he was there. He rested his chin gently on top of your messy hair while the waves crashed loudly against the cliffs below.
You still did not know what the future held. You were still confused, still a bit sad, and still terrified of the new feelings blooming in your chest. But looking out into the dark, moonlit night, completely wrapped in his safe warmth, you realized you did not have to have it all figured out today. Jungkook was going to hold you until you did.
.,.
The blinding golden light of the morning sun cut straight through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors of the balcony, hitting your face and waking you up. You winced, shifting your face deeper into the pillow to escape the bright glare. Your eyes felt incredibly heavy, a bit dry and swollen from the heavy crying session on the balcony the night before.
For a few peaceful seconds, your brain was completely blank. You just felt the incredible softness of the hotel sheets and the heavy, comforting warmth of the massive king bed.
But then, the memories of the previous night came rushing back like a tidal wave, slamming straight into your chest.
Jungkook's hands on your waist. The rough, low whisper of his voice. The confession. Three years.
Your eyes snapped wide open. Your heart gave a violent, sudden thud against your ribs. You turned your head so fast your neck cracked, looking at the space right next to you on the mattress.
It was empty.
The white comforter on his side of the bed was messy and tossed aside, the spot long since cooled down. The fortress of pillows you had neatly stacked down the center of the mattress was completely destroyed, scattered across the floor like the remains of a battlefield.
A sudden, sharp wave of anxiety hit your stomach. Did he leave? Was it too awkward? Did he regret saying all of those things? You scrambled out of the bed, your legs tangling in the sheets for a second as you stood up. You were still wearing his massive black hoodie, the fabric smelling entirely like him.
"Jungkook?" you called out, your voice sounding rough and raspy from sleep.
The heavy bathroom door swung open instantly.
Jungkook stepped out into the bright bedroom, a cloud of warm, minty steam billowing out behind him. He had clearly just brushed his teeth and washed his face. He was wearing his gray sweatpants and a fresh, plain black t-shirt. His dark hair was slightly damp, sticking to his forehead in messy, boyish curls.
The second his dark eyes locked onto you, he froze right by the door frame.
The air in the room instantly grew thick and quiet. The easy, brainless routine of your old friendship felt like it was hanging by a thread. You stood by the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously pulling at the long sleeves of his hoodie, your mind racing a million miles an hour. You didn't know how to look at him. You didn't know if you should mention the balcony, or if you should pretend it was all a dream.
Jungkook analyzed your tense, rigid posture, his eyes scanning your wide, anxious eyes. A tiny, incredibly gentle look softened his sharp features. He didn't look awkward, and he didn't look regretful. He just looked patient.
He took three slow, heavy steps toward you, stopping just a few feet away so he wouldn't crowd you. He raised a hand, scratching the back of his neck, and let out a small, familiar high-pitched giggle to break the heavy silence.
"Morning, sweets," he said softly. His voice had that rough, sleepy gravel to it. "You look like you just saw a ghost. Or worse, you look like you think I’m about to force you to eat more radioactive sausages."
A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. The thick, suffocating tension in your chest cracked just a little bit, letting you breathe.
"I'm just... I'm a bit tired," you mumbled, looking down at your bare feet on the carpet. "I didn't think you'd be up so early."
"Couldn't sleep much," Jungkook admitted honestly. He didn't lie to make it easy. He stepped a tiny bit closer, his large shadow falling over you. He reached out, his warm fingers gently tapping the top of your head. "Hey. Look at me."
You slowly raised your eyes, meeting his clear, steady gaze.
"Remember what I told you last night before we went to sleep?" he asked, his tone incredibly grounded. "No pressure. Nothing changes unless you want it to. I'm still just Jungkook. I'm still the guy who is going to eat all your snacks and drive you across the country. You don't need to be weird around me."
You looked at his familiar, comforting face, and the lingering panic in your stomach finally dissolved into dust. He was giving you exactly what he promised: space to just breathe and be yourself.
"Okay," you whispered, a genuine, small smile touching your lips. "Okay."
"Good," Jungkook beamed, his massive bunny-toothed grin returning in full force, completely changing the energy of the room back to bright sunshine. "Because I ordered breakfast, and if you don't hurry up and wash your face, I am going to eat every single strip of bacon on that cart. I mean it. I’m already eyeing the plate."
An hour later, you were both back in the car, leaving the luxury hotel behind and hitting the coastal highway once again. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and the ocean sparkled like diamonds to your right.
The dynamic inside the car felt different now. The thick, heavy angst of the night before had settled into a quiet, warm hum. It wasn't the old platonic friendship, but it wasn't a rushed romance either. It was a comfortable middle ground.
Jungkook was driving with one hand on the wheel, his left arm resting on the open window frame, letting the warm summer breeze ruffle his hair. He had a playlist of soft, classic rock music playing at a reasonable volume—a compromise he made so you wouldn't complain about his 2012 girl-pop anthems.
You sat in the passenger seat, your legs curled up under you, staring at his profile. Your mind was wandering, processing everything he had said.
Three years.
You thought back to last summer, when you had first started talking to your ex. You remembered telling Jungkook about the first date. You remembered how Jungkook had gone strangely quiet for a few days, throwing himself into his gym workouts until his knuckles were raw. At the time, you thought he was just busy with work. Now, the memory made your heart ache with a deep, bittersweet pain. He had been suffering in silence, watching you walk into a relationship that wasn't even deep or real, just to keep you in his life.
"If you stare at me any harder, you're going to burn a hole right through my cheek," Jungkook said suddenly, not taking his eyes off the road but a smug, handsome smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
You jumped slightly, your cheeks instantly turning a light shade of pink. "I wasn't staring at you. Don't flatter yourself, Jeon."
"You were totally staring," he chuckled, his voice rich and happy. "It's fine. I don't blame you. The lighting today really highlights my jawline. I look like a model in this rearview mirror."
"You look like a giant dork," you rolled your eyes, grabbing a handful of sour gummy worms from the convenience store bag and tossing one directly at his shoulder.
He caught the candy with his right hand, tossing it into his mouth with a laugh. "Hey, watch the cargo! This is fuel for the captain."
As the hours passed, you noticed that while Jungkook was keeping his promise of not pushing you for answers, his behavior had subtly changed. He wasn't hiding his feelings anymore. The small boundaries he used to maintain were completely gone.
When you stopped at a scenic overlook to see the massive cliffs cutting into the ocean, the path was steep and covered in loose gravel. In the past, he would have just walked ahead, teasing you for being slow. But today, the second your sneaker slipped slightly on a rock, Jungkook’s large, warm hand was there.
He didn't just stabilize you; he locked his long fingers securely with yours, his grip firm and burning hot against your skin.
"The ground is messy here. Hold on," he said casually, his voice steady as he guided you down the path.
Your heart gave a massive, violent thud against your ribs. Your fingers felt incredibly small tangled up in his large, calloused hand. You looked down at your joined hands, your breath catching. You waited for him to let go once you reached the flat wooden viewing deck, but he didn't. He kept his fingers loosely, comfortably intertwined with yours as you both stood by the wooden railing, looking out at the endless blue horizon.
It felt entirely natural, yet completely terrifying. It felt like a glimpse into a reality where you were completely taken care of, completely valued.
You glanced up at him. Jungkook was looking out at the water, the bright sun highlighting the strong bridge of his nose and his sharp jaw. He wasn't looking at you to see your reaction. He was just holding your hand because he wanted to, because he finally could.
"My ex hated stops like this," you whispered quietly, the thought slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it. The sorrow of the past relationship was still lingering like a faint shadow, a habit you were trying to break. "He always said if we stop every thirty miles, we'll never make it to the destination on time. He hated wasting minutes."
Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened just a fraction, a reassuring, heavy squeeze. He didn't turn his head, but his voice dropped into that low, serious register that made your soul quiet down.
"The destination doesn't matter if you're rushing through the whole journey, sweets," he said softly. "The whole point of a road trip is to look at the views. If a guy is too busy looking at his watch to enjoy standing next to you at a place like this... he’s missing the entire point of living."
You stared at his profile, your eyes widening slightly as his words cut straight through your lingering self-doubt. The realization hit you with a massive, undeniable weight. Your ex hadn't just been a "time pass"—he had been a completely wrong fit. You had been trying to force your vibrant, messy life into a tiny, rigid box for eight months. And right next to you, the entire time, was a boy who was willing to stop at every single scenic overlook just to hold your hand and watch the wind blow through your hair.
The fear of ruining the friendship was still there, a tiny, nervous flutter in your stomach. But looking at your joined hands, the warmth spreading up your arm, you felt a new, quiet feeling starting to bloom. It was a small spark of hope.
By the time the afternoon began to fade into a soft, hazy orange sunset, you arrived at the final destination of the road trip: a sleepy, beautiful beach town famous for its outdoor night markets and boardwalks.
The hotel this time was a small, cozy motel right on the beach front. And thankfully, the booking system worked perfectly. You had a room with two separate queen-sized beds, separated by a wide, safe nightstand.
"See? No single-bed drama tonight," you joked, throwing your small backpack onto the bed closest to the window. "You're safe from my blanket-stealing crimes."
Jungkook dropped his heavy black duffel bag onto the opposite bed, leaning his hips against the mattress as he looked over at you. The golden light of the sunset filtered through the window blinds, casting long amber stripes across his face.
"Honestly? I'm kind of disappointed," he teased, a playful, wicked glint in his dark eyes. "The pillow fortress from last night had character. It was an excellent defensive structure."
"You are ridiculous," you laughed, grabbing a fresh change of clothes from your suitcase. "I'm going to change, and then we are going to that boardwalk market. I want fried food and I want it now."
"Your wish is my command, sweets," he chuckled, bowing dramatically as you walked into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, you emerged wearing a simple white sundress and denim jacket, your hair tied up into a loose, messy bun. Jungkook had changed into a clean, oversized vintage t-shirt and dark shorts. He looked completely relaxed, entirely handsome, and totally ready to cause chaos at the night market.
The boardwalk was alive with energy. Bright neon lights from the game booths reflected off the dark ocean water, and the air was thick with the delicious, mouth-watering smell of fried funnel cakes, hot churros, and grilled skewers. Music from the old carousel echoed through the crowd, mixed with the loud laughter of families and couples walking along the wooden planks.
"Alright, first stop," Jungkook declared, grabbing your wrist and dragging you straight toward a stall with a giant sign that read Fried Everything. "We are getting the giant funnel cake with extra powdered sugar. No arguments."
"I would never argue against sugar, Jeon," you said, matching his fast pace.
You spent the next hour walking through the crowds, completely stuffing your faces with junk food. Jungkook ended up getting powdered sugar all over the front of his black t-shirt within two minutes, which led to you standing in the middle of the boardwalk, giggling uncontrollably as you used a wet napkin to wipe his chest down while he whined about his ruined style.
As you wiped the white powder away, your hand brushed against the firm, warm muscle of his chest, right over his beating heart. You froze for a split second, your eyes lifting to meet his. Jungkook was looking down at you, his breathing a little shallow, his dark eyes intensely focused on your hands against his shirt.
The bustling noise of the night market seemed to blur away for that tiny second, leaving just the heavy, magnetic heat between you. You quickly pulled your hand back, clearing your throat nervously as you tossed the napkin into a nearby bin.
"There. You're clean," you whispered, your heart doing that familiar, frantic dance.
"Thanks," he murmured, his voice low.
To break the sudden, thick tension, Jungkook quickly pointed a finger at a massive game booth down the boardwalk. The booth was filled with giant, oversized stuffed animals, and a loud announcer was challenging people to hit a target with a baseball.
"Look at that giant purple plush bunny," Jungkook said, his eyes narrowing like a professional athlete entering an arena. "It looks exactly like me. I need to win it for you."
"Jungkook, those games are completely rigged," you laughed, trying to pull him back. "The balls are weighted, and the targets are tiny. You're just going to waste your money."
"Are you doubting my athletic abilities?" He gasped dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. "Excuse me? I have perfect aim. Watch and learn, sweets."
He marched straight up to the booth, pulling out his wallet and paying the announcer for three throws. A small crowd of teenagers stopped to watch, noticing how big and focused Jungkook looked as he picked up the first wooden baseball.
He balanced his weight, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his t-shirt as he drew his arm back. With a sudden, lightning-fast motion, he threw the ball.
CRASH.
The ball hit the center target perfectly, the loud sound echoing across the boardwalk. The crowd let out a small cheer. Jungkook didn't even smile; he just picked up the second ball, his expression completely serious, his eyes locked onto the prize. He threw it again.
CRASH.
The second target shattered down. The announcer looked genuinely shocked. By the time Jungkook threw the third ball, hitting the final target dead-center, the entire booth area erupted into loud cheers and applause.
Jungkook finally relaxed, turning his head toward you with a massive, arrogant, and entirely endearing smirk. He puffed his chest out dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows. "Rigged? Please. The targets never stood a chance against the Jeon precision."
The announcer grumbled, reaching up to the high ceiling to pull down the massive, giant purple plush bunny. It was almost as big as you were, incredibly soft and completely ridiculous. He dumped it into Jungkook’s arms.
Jungkook carried the giant bunny over to you, struggling to see over the massive plush head. He shoved the giant toy into your arms, wrapping your hands around the soft fabric.
"Here," he said, his voice instantly softening as he looked down at you. The arrogant game-winner energy vanished, replaced by that quiet, deep warmth that always made your knees weak. "A line of defense for your bed tonight. Since we don't have the pillow fortress anymore."
You gripped the massive, soft bunny against your chest, burying your face in the purple faux fur for a second to hide the massive, completely overwhelmed smile pulling at your lips. The fear, the ghost of your ex-boyfriend—everything was completely losing its grip on you. Standing under the bright neon lights of the boardwalk, holding a giant prize won by the boy who had loved you silently for three years, you realized your heart was no longer breaking.
It was healing. And it was healing fast.
"Thank you, Jungkook," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes.
Jungkook reached out, his large, warm hand gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek for a single, beautiful second. "Anytime, sweets. Anytime."
…
The giant purple plush bunny was entirely too massive. As you both walked away from the noisy game booth, you had to hold the heavy toy with both arms just to keep it from dragging across the sticky wooden planks of the boardwalk. Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved casually into his shorts pockets, a smug and completely satisfied smile resting on his face. Every time a group of teenagers walked past and stared at the ridiculous size of your prize, he would puff his broad chest out just a little bit more.
"You are going to develop a permanent posture problem if you keep walking like that," you teased, nudging his arm with the side of the giant stuffed ear.
"I am walking with the swagger of a champion," Jungkook corrected smoothly, his voice full of rich, bouncy laughter. "Do you know how hard it is to hit three targets in a row with weighted baseballs? The announcer looked like he wanted to cry when he had to hand that bunny over. I basically pulled off a heist."
"You spent fifteen dollars on a toy that probably cost two dollars to make," you retorted, though you couldn't stop the massive, happy smile from taking over your face.
"Money is temporary, sweets. But the glory of winning a giant purple defense system for your bedroom? That is eternal," he chuckled, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you.
The night market was starting to slow down as the clock moved past eleven. The heavy crowds of families were thinning out, leaving behind mostly young couples walking hand-in-hand beneath the glowing strands of yellow fairy lights. The salty sea breeze was picking up again, bringing the loud, rhythmic sound of the dark waves crashing against the wooden pillars beneath the boardwalk.
At the very end of the pier, towering over the edge of the water, sat the grand finale of the beach town: a massive, old-fashioned Ferris wheel. Its neon lights were a beautiful mix of soft pinks, deep blues, and warm golds, spinning slowly against the dark velvet sky.
Jungkook stopped walking, his eyes tracking the slow rotation of the giant wheel. He turned his head to look at you, his expression softening as the multi-colored lights danced across his sharp jawline.
"We have one more stop before we go back to the motel," he said softly, pointing a finger toward the ticket booth of the ride. "Come on."
"Jungkook, it’s late," you murmured, a sudden, familiar flutter of nervous anxiety hitting your stomach. "And I’m carrying a stuffed animal the size of a refrigerator. We won't even fit in the bucket."
"We will make it fit," he insisted, not taking no for an answer. He reached out, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around your wrist to gently drag you toward the line.
Five minutes later, you were officially crammed into a small, swinging metal carriage. Jungkook’s prediction had been slightly wrong—the space was incredibly tight. The giant purple bunny had to be stuffed vertically between your knees, its massive plush head completely blocking the view to your left. Because the toy took up more than half the bench, you and Jungkook were forced to sit completely flush against each other on the remaining side.
His muscular thigh was pressed tightly against yours, the heat of his skin burning right through his shorts. His broad shoulder was tucked firmly beneath your own, his large frame completely surrounding you in the small metal car.
A loud, metallic clunk echoed through the air as the ride operator locked the safety bar into place. With a slow, jerky shudder, the Ferris wheel began to lift you up into the night.
As the carriage climbed higher and higher, the noisy sounds of the boardwalk games and the shouting announcers began to fade away into a quiet, distant hum. The view expanded infinitely. To your right, the tiny neon lights of the beach town looked like scattered jewels on black velvet. To your left, the endless, dark ocean stretched out into the horizon, reflecting the bright silver light of the full moon.
You leaned your head slightly against the cold metal mesh of the carriage, letting out a long, quiet breath. The beauty of the view was breathtaking, but your brain was completely unable to focus on it. You were entirely, terrifyingly aware of Jungkook’s breathing right next to you. You could feel the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, the faint, comforting scent of his woodsy cologne completely trapped inside the small space.
The carriage suddenly groaned, stopping dead right at the very top of the wheel. You were suspended hundreds of feet in the air, dangling directly over the crashing black waves below.
The silence up here was absolute. The wind blew softly through the open sides of the car, rattling the metal chains above your head.
"Are you scared of heights?" Jungkook’s voice cut through the quiet. It wasn't his loud, teasing voice anymore. It was low, rough, and incredibly gentle, dropping into that serious register that always made your knees feel weak.
You turned your head to look at him. Because of how tightly you were crammed together, his face was only inches from yours. The soft, rotating neon pink light from the wheel lit up his features, catching the dark depth of his eyes and the slight, nervous parted line of his lips. He was staring directly at you, completely ignoring the beautiful ocean view behind your head.
"A little bit," you whispered honestly, your throat feeling suddenly dry. "It feels like we're just dangling in the middle of nowhere."
Jungkook didn't say a word. Instead, he slowly shifted his right hand from his lap. His large, warm fingers slipped down the side of the seat, sliding directly over yours. He didn't just hold your hand loosely this time. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them together in a tight, heavy grip that felt incredibly secure. His palm was burning hot against your cold skin.
"I’ve got you," he murmured, his dark eyes never leaving your face. "You're not going to fall, sweets. I won't let you."
Your heart gave a violent, massive thud against your ribs. The confusion that had been swirling in your head for the last three days suddenly tightened into a painful, beautiful knot right in the center of your chest.
You looked down at your joined hands resting on top of the purple plush fabric of the toy. His hand was so much larger than yours, his veins showing slightly against the back of his skin, his grip holding you like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe.
"Jungkook," you said softly, your voice trembling a little as the heavy emotion threatened to spill over. "I'm sorry."
Jungkook tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Sorry for what?"
"For being so messy," you whispered, looking up to meet his eyes through the dim pink light. "For making you drive me across the country while I cried over a guy I didn't even care about. For being so confused and scared right now. You’ve been waiting for three years... and I feel like I'm ruining everything because I don't know how to fix my own head yet."
The heavy silence returned, hanging between you as the wind blew past the carriage.
Jungkook stared at you for a long, unblinking moment. The patience in his eyes was so deep it made your chest ache. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his left hand from the safety bar. He reached across the small space, his large thumb gently pressing against your chin, tilting your face just a fraction closer to his. His touch was incredibly soft, completely devoid of his usual clumsy energy.
"Look at me," he commanded softly.
You looked, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.
"You are not ruining anything," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with absolute, unshakable certainty. "I told you last night on the balcony, and I mean it. I don't need you to have a perfect, healed brain right now. I don't need you to give me an anniversary date or a promise. I am here because I want to be here. I am holding your hand because it’s the only place I’ve wanted my hand to be for three years."
He took a deep, heavy breath, his chest brushing slightly against your arm as he leaned in just a millimeter closer.
"The last three days haven't been a burden to me, sweets," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips for a single, torturous second before snapping back to your eyes. "Watching you finally realize that you deserve better than a guy who treats you like a chore? Watching you laugh until your stomach hurts on the highway? That is the best thing that has happened to me in years. You are not a mess to me. You are just you."
A single, hot tear finally slipped out of your eye, running down your cheek. Jungkook didn't hesitate. He used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe the moisture away, his skin lingering against your cheekbone, his touch leaving a trail of absolute fire behind.
"So stop apologizing," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy register that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine. "Take all the time you need to figure things out. Cry if you need to. Be scared if you need to. But don't you dare think you are ruining us. We are completely fine."
You stared at him, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The lingering memory of your ex-boyfriend, the eight months of that empty, boring relationship out of habit—it completely dissolved into nothingness. It didn't exist anymore. The only reality that mattered was the boy sitting inches from you at the top of the world, holding your hand like a lifeline and offering you a love so deep it completely terrified you.
You didn't know what to say. The fear of ruining the friendship were still humming quietly in the back of your mind, but the sheer emotional safety he was giving you was completely overwhelming the doubt. Slowly, without thinking, you let your head lean sideways, resting your cheek gently against his broad, solid shoulder.
Jungkook stiffened for a fraction of a second, completely caught off guard by your sudden movement. Then, a long, heavy sigh of absolute relief escaped his lips. He shifted his arm, wrapping it securely around your shoulders, pulling you completely against his side as the Ferris wheel finally shuddered and began its slow descent back toward the earth.
He didn't press for more. He didn't try to kiss you. He just held you tight against his chest, his large hand still firmly locked with yours on top of the giant purple bunny.
…
The quiet of the motel room felt completely different from the loud, bright chaos of the boardwalk. When Jungkook clicked the heavy lock of the door into place, the sudden silence was deafening. The only sound was the low, steady hum of the old air conditioning unit beneath the window and the distant, muffled crash of the ocean waves against the sand outside.
The room was basic and cozy, illuminated only by the amber glow of a single streetlamp filtering through the plastic window blinds. Two queen-sized beds stood side-by-side, separated by a wide, dark wooden nightstand that felt like a physical boundary between your old life and whatever was happening now.
You walked over to the bed closest to the window, carefully lifting the massive purple plush bunny and sitting it upright against the headboard. It looked completely ridiculous under the dim light, its giant ears flopping forward as if it were guarding the mattress.
"Well," you said, your voice sounding incredibly small in the quiet room. "The fortress is officially in place."
Jungkook chuckled softly, dropping his heavy black duffel bag onto his own mattress with a dull thud. He stood by the edge of his bed, hands resting on his hips as his dark eyes locked onto you. The playful, confident guy from the boardwalk was gone, replaced by the quiet, intensely patient man from the Ferris wheel.
"I'm going to change into something comfortable. Don't eat all the sour worms while I'm gone."
"No promises, sweets," he teased, though his eyes stayed fixed on your face until you closed the bathroom door behind you.
Inside the small, brightly lit bathroom, you leaned against the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed from the cold sea wind, and your eyes looked bright—no longer heavy with the messy tears of a painful breakup, but wide with a quiet, lingering shock. You touched your fingers to your chin, right where his large, warm thumb had rested just twenty minutes ago at the top of the Ferris wheel.
He loved you. He had loved you for three long years, through every boring date, every casual conversation, and every single time you had complained about your empty relationship. He had stood right next to you, holding his breath, just waiting for you to see him.
You let out a long, shaky breath, quickly changing into a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a loose, oversized t-shirt. By the time you turned off the bathroom light and stepped back into the bedroom, Jungkook had already changed into his favorite soft black sweatpants and was lying flat on his back on his own bed. He had his arms tucked behind his head, his dark eyes staring blankly at the popcorn texture of the ceiling.
The room was completely dark now, saved only by the thin stripes of amber light cutting across the carpet from the window.
You silently crawled under the crisp white sheets of your own bed, pulling the heavy comforter up to your chin. You turned your body onto your side, facing his direction, your eyes adjusting to the shadows.
For a long time, neither of you said a word. The silence stretched out until the ticking of the small digital clock on the nightstand felt like a countdown.
"Sweets?" Jungkook’s voice suddenly broke the quiet. It was barely a whisper, rough and incredibly raw, cutting through the hum of the air conditioner.
"Yeah?" you replied instantly, your heart giving a small, nervous skip.
You saw his silhouette shift in the dark. Jungkook turned his heavy frame onto his side, propping his head up with his right hand, facing you. In the dim light, you could see the dark, serious outline of his features and the glint of the moonlight reflecting in his wide pupils.
"Are you still thinking about him?" he asked quietly. There was no jealousy in his tone, no anger. It was just a question born out of pure, unprotected vulnerability. He sounded entirely human, entirely stripped of his usual confident armor.
You stared at him through the shadows, your fingers tightly gripping the edge of your blanket. You thought about your ex. You tried to find the familiar, sharp ache of rejection that had crushed you just three days ago in your apartment. But when you searched your mind, there was nothing left but an empty, hollow memory. The ghost of that relationship had completely vanished, replaced entirely by the warmth of Jungkook’s large hand holding yours against the dark ocean sky.
"No," you whispered honestly, the truth feeling like a massive weight lifting off your chest. "I'm not thinking about him at all. I haven't thought about him since we got on the highway today."
Jungkook let out a long, slow breath in the dark, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing against the mattress. "Good. Because he didn't deserve a single one of your thoughts anyway."
A small, bittersweet ache filled your chest as you watched him. "Jungkook... how did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Three years," you murmured, your voice cracking slightly with a sudden wave of heavy emotion. "How did you sit across from me at dinner, or watch movies with me on my couch, while I was completely blind? How did you manage to just stay my friend without letting it ruin you?"
Jungkook was quiet for a long, agonizing minute. The only sound was the distant crash of the waves outside. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, rougher, and thick with an honesty that made your throat tighten.
"It was hard," he confessed softly, his eyes never leaving yours through the dark space between the beds. "The first few months were the worst. Every time you talked about a guy you met at a coffee shop, or every time you got dressed up to go on a first date, I used to go back to my apartment and just stare at my phone, hating myself for being too scared to speak up."
He shifted slightly, his long fingers mindlessly tracing a pattern against his own pillowcase.
"But then I realized something," he whispered, his tone dropping into a deeply tender register. "Being just your friend, being the guy who got to hear your voice at two in the morning when you couldn't sleep, or the guy who got to make you laugh when you had a bad day at work... that was still better than anything else in my life. I was terrified that if I pushed you, if I told you that I wanted to hold you and kiss you, you'd get uncomfortable. You'd pull away. And the idea of a world where you don't talk to me? That was a thousand times worse than the pain of keeping it a secret."
The weight of his devotion hit you like a physical wave. Tears of pure, overwhelming emotion welled up in your eyes, blurring the sight of his silhouette in the dark. While you had been settling for a casual, empty relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been quietly, fiercely protecting your bond, placing your comfort entirely above his own heart.
"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner," you choked out, a single tear escaping and dampening your pillow. "I'm sorry I was so stupid."
"Hey," Jungkook murmured instantly, his tone shifting into that urgent, protective warmth. He sat up completely, swinging his long legs over the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring across the wide gap at you. "Don't say that. I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel guilty, sweets. I told you because I wanted you to understand that you are worth the wait. Every single second of it."
You stared up at him from your pillow, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The physical distance between the two queen beds suddenly felt entirely too far. The old rules of your friendship, the safe boundaries you had lived behind for years, felt like paper walls ready to burn down. You didn't want the wide nightstand separating you tonight. You didn't want to be alone with the lingering anxiety of the past. You just wanted his warmth. You wanted his safety.
Slowly, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, you lifted the heavy comforter and sat up.
Jungkook froze, his dark eyes tracking your movements in the shadows as you slid out from beneath your sheets. Your bare feet hit the cold carpet. Without saying a word, you walked across the narrow space separating the two beds, stopping right in front of him.
He looked up at you, his chest rising and falling heavily, his sharp jaw tight with a sudden, intense tension. He didn't move, completely holding his breath as if he were terrified that any sudden gesture would scare you away.
"Can I..." your voice trembled, your hand nervously gesturing to the empty space on his mattress. "Can I just stay here tonight? I don't want to be on that side of the room."
Jungkook didn't hesitate for even a millisecond. He instantly shifted his large body backward, pulling his blankets aside to create a wide, welcoming space right next to him. "Come here," he whispered, his voice incredibly rough.
You crawled onto his bed, the sheets smelling intensely of his familiar, woodsy cologne. You lay down on your side, curling your knees up slightly. Jungkook moved carefully, lying down right beside you. He didn't force a heavy embrace, and he didn't try to pull you into a passionate hold. True to his promise, he gave you the space to just be yourself.
Instead, he reached out in the dark, his large, warm hand finding yours beneath the blanket. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them securely in that same heavy, burning grip from the Ferris wheel. He pulled your joined hands up, resting them right against the center of his chest, right over the steady, rapid thumping of his heart.
He leaned his forehead forward, resting it gently against the top of your head, his warm breath fanning through your messy hair.
"I've got you," he murmured softly into the dark room, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring, heavy squeeze. "Just close your eyes, sweets. I'm right here. No pressure, remember? We have all the time in the world."
You closed your eyes, letting out a long, shaky sigh as the very last remnants of your post-breakup loneliness completely dissolved into the mattress. Listening to the heavy, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your fingers, completely surrounded by his protective warmth, the fear of the future finally went quiet. You didn't know what tomorrow would look like, and you didn't know how long it would take to fix your scrambled thoughts, but as you drifted off to sleep in the quiet beach motel, you knew one thing for certain.
The road trip wasn't an escape anymore. It was the moment you finally came home.
…
The soft, rhythmic rumble of the ocean waves outside the window was the first thing that drifted into your consciousness. It was followed closely by a heavy, radiating warmth that completely enveloped your entire body. As your eyes slowly blinked open against the dim morning light filtering through the plastic blinds, you didn't feel the cold, empty space of a lonely hotel bed.
Instead, you were completely anchored.
You were tucked firmly against Jungkook’s broad chest. His left arm was wrapped securely around your waist, his large palm resting flat against your lower back, holding you flush against his solid frame. Your own hand was still resting over his heart, your fingers loosely tangled in the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. He had one of his long legs hooked over yours, completely trapping you in a lazy, heavy embrace that felt entirely unbreakable.
You stayed perfectly still, your breath catching in your throat as the realization of where you were settled in.
Slowly, carefully, you tilted your head back to look at him.
Jungkook was already awake. He was propped up slightly against his pillow, his dark hair a messy, wild halo of bedhead curls sticking up in every direction. The soft, grayish light of the early morning highlighted the relaxed lines of his face, making him look incredibly young and soft. He wasn't looking at the window or his phone. He was just staring down at you, his dark eyes full of a quiet, unblinking adoration that made your stomach do a sudden, violent flip.
The second he noticed you moving, a tiny, incredibly tender smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His voice, when he spoke, was a deep, gravelly morning rasp that vibrated directly against your chest.
"Morning, sweets," he whispered softly, his large hand on your back giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You sleep okay?"
"Yeah," you murmured, your voice sounding small and sleepy. You looked down at his chest, your cheeks warming up. "How long have you been awake?"
"About an hour," he admitted with a tiny, boyish giggle. He didn't move his arm, keeping you locked against him. "My arm went completely numb twenty minutes ago, but you looked so peaceful I didn't want to move. I was ready to let it fall off for the cause."
A genuine laugh spilled out of your mouth, the lingering angst of waking up in his bed instantly evaporating. "You are such a dork, Jeon. You should have just pushed me off."
"Never," he murmured, his tone suddenly dropping into that low, serious register that made your heart pound. He raised his right hand, his long fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. His touch was incredibly light, his thumb lingering against your temple. "I could stay right here for a week."
You stared at him, your breath shallow, the sheer emotional weight of his presence completely overwhelming your lingering doubts. For eight months, you had woken up next to a man who felt like a stranger, a relationship that felt like a daily obligation. But here, in a cheap beach motel room with your childhood best friend, you felt entirely seen, entirely valued, and completely safe.
"Jungkook," you said softly, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt. "Let's go to the beach. Before we have to pack up the car."
His eyes softened, a warm, supportive look taking over his face. "Whatever you want, sweets. Let's go."
…
You walked slowly along the water's edge, your sneakers sinking slightly into the wet sand. You were wearing his massive black hoodie again over your clothes, the long sleeves pulled down past your knuckles to protect your hands from the freezing wind.
Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved deep into his shorts pockets, his broad shoulders hunched slightly against the breeze. He was keeping a respectful foot of space between your shoulders, true to his promise of letting you set the pace.
"It’s beautiful out here," you whispered, watching a white seagull glide low over the water.
"Yeah, it is," Jungkook said. But when you glanced over at him, he wasn't looking at the ocean. He was looking at you, his expression quiet and thoughtful.
A sudden, sharp wave of reality hit your chest, bringing back a faint hint of the familiar angst. The road trip was ending today. The beautiful escape of the highway, the luxury hotel rooms, and the neon lights of the boardwalk were over. By this afternoon, you would be driving back into the city, back to your actual lives, your apartments, and the regular routine.
"Jungkook," you started, your voice dropping as you stopped walking. You turned to face him, the wind pulling strands of hair across your face. "What happens when we go back?"
Jungkook stopped immediately, shifting his large body so he was blocking the harsh wind from hitting you directly. He looked down at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... when we get back to the city," you mumbled, looking down at your sneakers in the sand. "We have to go back to our normal lives. People are going to ask about the breakup. My ex might try to call me to get his things. And... I don't want us to become weird. I don't want to lose the easy way we used to talk just because everything is shifting."
The silence stretched between you, heavy with the fear of the future. You were terrified that once the magic of the road trip faded, the reality of changing a three-year friendship would become too heavy to handle.
Jungkook didn't answer right away. He slowly stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was standing just inches away. He reached out, his large, warm hands coming up to gently grab the sides of your hood, pulling the thick black fabric securely around your ears to shield you from the cold breeze.
"Look at me, sweets," he commanded softly, his dark eyes completely locking onto yours with an absolute, unshakable intensity.
You raised your head, your eyes wide and a little glassy.
"Nothing is going to change unless you want it to," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with a deep, grounded certainty. "When we get back, I’m still going to be the guy who comes over at midnight to fix your broken kitchen cabinet. I’m still the guy who is going to text you stupid memes during your lunch break. The city doesn't change who we are."
He squeezed the fabric of your hood gently, his thumbs resting against the sides of your jawline.
"If you need me to just be your best friend for the next month while you sort through your brain, I will be your best friend," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly with a raw, unprotected vulnerability.
"If you need me to take you out on a proper, real date, I will do that too. I've spent three years guarding my heart around you, sweets. I am not going to run away or get weird just because we crossed the city limits. I am entirely yours. In the motel room, on the highway, or back in our apartments. You don't have to carry the pressure of fixing everything today."
The honesty in his words cut straight through the very last layer of your self-doubt. The lingering anxiety of the past relationship, the fear of making a mistake, the ghost of your old life—it all completely collapsed under the weight of his unconditional devotion. He wasn't asking you to be perfect. He was just asking you to let him hold you.
A sudden, fierce wave of clarity washed over you. You didn't want to wait anymore. You didn't want to let the fear of tomorrow ruin the beautiful, undeniable truth of what was standing right in front of you.
Slowly, your hands came out from the long sleeves of his hoodie. Your fingers were trembling slightly, but your movement was entirely deliberate. You reached up, your hands pressing against his broad, solid chest, feeling the rapid, frantic thumping of his heart beneath his t-shirt.
Jungkook completely froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening in total shock as you stepped even closer, your shoes touching his.
"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice thick with a beautiful, heavy emotion as you looked straight into his dark eyes. "I don't want to wait a month."
Before he could even process your words, you stood up on your tiptoes. You closed the tiny remaining gap between your faces, leaning up until your lips gently, softly pressed against his.
The touch was light, tentative, and full of a deep, lingering angst—a silent question asked after three years of waiting. His lips were incredibly soft, warm against the chilly morning air, smelling faintly of the minty toothpaste from the motel room.
For a split second, Jungkook stayed completely rigid, his mind entirely blown, as if he couldn't believe this was actually happening. But then, a low, ragged groan escaped his throat.
The hesitation vanished instantly.
His large hands dropped from your hood, sliding down to wrap fiercely around your waist. He lifted you slightly off your feet, pulling your body completely against his broad frame with a sudden, desperate strength. He leaned his head down, deepening the kiss with a raw, burning intensity that left you completely breathless. It wasn't a rushed or aggressive touch; it was a deeply passionate, emotional release of three years of unspoken love, poured entirely into the quiet morning air.
Your hands slid up his chest, wrapping securely around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy, damp curls as you melted completely into his warmth.
When he finally pulled back, just a fraction of an inch, his forehead rested gently against yours. His breathing was heavy and ragged, his large hands still gripping your waist tightly as if he were terrified you would disappear if he let go. A massive, breathless smile broke across his handsome face, his dark eyes shining with a pure, unadulterated happiness that completely lit up the entire beach.
"Sweets," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and completely dazed. "If this is a dream, do not wake me up. I mean it. I will sleep forever."
You let out a soft, happy laugh, burying your face into the warm crook of his neck, your arms wrapping securely around his broad shoulders.
You had finally found your destination.
…
The steady, quiet rhythm of a late-night June rain was the only sound left in the apartment. Outside the large window, the city was just a blurry mix of red, yellow, and blue lights reflecting on the wet streets far below. The cars moved slowly through the puddles, their headlights cutting through the dark gray fog. Inside, your living room felt like a completely different world. It was warm, cozy, and quiet, lit only by the soft amber glow of a single ceramic floor lamp standing in the corner.
A full month had passed since the road trip had ended. The sudden, chaotic explosion of your old breakup had finally settled into distant history. The boxes of your ex-boyfriend's things were gone, the keys had been handed back, and the tears had completely dried up. You had both fallen back into your regular city routines. You spent your days focusing on your work, organizing your schedules, and managing your independent business projects. Jungkook went right back to his high-volume photography and graphic design work, his calendar packed with studio shoots and editing sessions.
But absolutely nothing about the space between you two felt regular anymore.
You were sitting flat on the thick, plush rug in the center of the room, your back resting against the bottom base of the couch. Spread out all around your legs was a large, messy binder filled with business papers, menu printouts, and cost spreadsheets. Your fingers traced the edge of a white paper, trying to read the lines of text, but your mind was not processing a single word or number. Every single ounce of your focus was dialed entirely into the heavy, solid presence of the boy sitting right above you on the cushions.
Jungkook was stretched out lazily across the sofa, his long legs taking up almost the entire length of the cushions. He was wearing an old, faded gray tank top that showed off the heavy, defined muscles of his shoulders and the intricate, dark patterns of the tattoo sleeve wrapping all the way down his right arm. His laptop rested heavily on his muscular thighs, and his large fingers clicked the trackpad every now and then, slowly moving through a batch of street photographs he had taken earlier that week.
For twenty long minutes, neither of you had said a single word.
In the past, a long silence like this would have been entirely brainless and comfortable. You would have been scrolling through social media on your phone, he would have been playing a video game on his console, and the air in the room would have felt light and easy. You wouldn't have thought twice about sitting together without talking. But tonight, the silence felt thick. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on the air, heavy with a new, simmering undercurrent of raw, unhurried tension that seemed to grow stronger with every single tick of the wall clock.
You shifted your position on the floor, trying to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. As you moved your legs under the binder, your shoulder accidentally brushed against the hard, warm line of his shin resting right against the edge of the couch cushions.
Jungkook did not move his leg away. In fact, the moment your skin made contact with his, his fingers stopped clicking the mouse completely. The small tapping sound vanished, making the room feel even quieter than before.
Slowly, deliberately, Jungkook lowered his laptop screen by a fraction of an inch. His dark, heavy eyes slid down from the monitor, tracking across the top of your head before locking onto the side of your face. He did not say anything at first. He just watched you through the dim light, his jawline sharp and tight, his breathing deep, slow, and steady.
"You've been rewriting that exact same line on your menu for ten minutes, sweets," he said softly. His voice was a low, sleepy gravel that vibrated right through the couch cushions against your back, sending a sudden, sharp shiver straight down your spine.
"I have not," you muttered quickly, stubbornly keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, even though your heart rate was already starting to speed up. "I am checking the prices and verifying the math. Some of us actually have to work for a living instead of just playing with photo filters and sliders all day."
A low, deep rumble of a laugh vibrated in his broad chest. "Photo filters? Is that seriously what you think I do all day in the studio?"
"Basically," you teased, finally turning your head slightly to look up at him through your eyelashes. You were trying hard to bring back the safe, funny armor of your old friendly bickering, desperately wanting to break the heavy mood. "You just make the pretty pictures look a little more blue or a little more yellow. A child could do it, Jeon."
Jungkook’s lips parted into a slow, dangerously handsome smirk. He shifted his weight, closing his laptop with a soft click and setting it down on the opposite end of the couch. He leaned his forearms onto his bare knees, bending his large upper body forward until his face was only a foot away from yours, looking down at you from over the edge of the velvet cushions.
"A child, huh?" he murmured, his dark eyes glinting with a playful, wicked challenge in the amber lamplight. "If my job is so easy, why don't you crawl up here and finish editing the next batch for me? I'll even let you wear the captain's hat and sit in the big chair."
"I am entirely too busy managing a real commercial enterprise, Jungkook," you said, tossing your plastic pen onto the binder with a dramatic, loud sigh, though your eyes wandered instinctively to the clean, sharp line of his collarbone. "I don't have time to play around with your little art projects."
"Right. A real enterprise," he teased back, his voice dropping into a lower, softer register as his gaze dropped down to your lips for a brief, fleeting second before snapping right back to your eyes. "Which is exactly why you've been holding that pen upside down for the last five minutes."
Your face instantly flushed a brilliant, hot shade of pink. You quickly looked down at your hand, realizing with absolute horror that he was entirely correct—the plastic cap of the pen was resting firmly against your thumb while the actual ink point was aimed uselessly at the ceiling.
"It's a new memory technique," you stammered out, scrambling to flip the pen around in your fingers while forcing a loud, defensive laugh to cover your embarrassment. "It stimulates the brain cells. You wouldn't know anything about it because your brain is entirely fueled by video games, bad movies, and energy drinks."
Jungkook let out another quiet, rich laugh, the sound incredibly warm and intimate in the quiet apartment. But instead of pushing the joke any further, he slowly slid off the edge of the couch. He did not rush his movements at all. He moved with a slow, agonizingly deliberate grace, his bare feet making zero sound on the soft rug as he dropped down onto his knees right on the floor beside you.
Suddenly, the safe distance between your bodies shrunk down to a matter of inches.
The physical heat radiating off his chest was shocking, cutting straight through the cool draft of the rainy June night. He sat back on his heels, resting one of his large, calloused hands flat on the floor right behind your lower back, effectively blocking you in from behind. He smelled entirely like his clean cedarwood body wash, laundry detergent, and the faint trace of mint gum.
"Alright, show me the memory technique then," he murmured, his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely unblinking. He reached out with his left hand, his long fingers moving slowly across the small space between you until his knuckles lightly, barely brushed against the soft fabric of your gray sleeve. "Explain the numbers to me, sweets. I'm all ears."
Your breath completely caught in your throat. The playful, bickering armor you had built up over three years of friendship felt incredibly thin right now. It was easy to joke around and banter when he was sitting on the other side of the room, but with him kneeling right next to you on the floor, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of your living room, the flirty energy felt heavy. It felt entirely too real.
"The... the classic boxes of four are starting at twelve dollars," you whispered, your voice sounding remarkably breathy and small compared to the steady roar of the rain outside. You looked down at the binder, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs as you pointed a trembling finger at a row of numbers. "And then there’s a three-dollar difference for the specialty collections. Like the Biscoff dream variety or the Nutella dream variety."
"Three dollars," Jungkook repeated softly. He wasn't looking at the paper or the numbers at all. He was tracing the sharp line of your jaw with his eyes, his gaze heavy, dark, and completely focused on you. "Sounds like a solid strategy, sweets."
"It is," you muttered, trying desperately to keep your voice steady and professional. "It keeps the profit margins clean. And it prevents the customers from getting confused by too many random numbers on the ordering sheet."
Jungkook slowly moved his hand from his knee. He did not grab you, and he did not push you into doing anything. Instead, his long, ink-covered fingers slid across the white pages of your binder, his fingertips lightly brushing against the edge of your hand as he reached up to gently touch the corner of the paper you were holding. His skin was burning hot, a massive contrast to your cold, nervous fingers.
"And what about the formatting?" he asked, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy whisper that fanned across the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, causing a violent wave of goosebumps to break out across your arms. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his shoulder tucking right against yours. "The layout looks a little cluttered here. Do you want me to redesign the font and the sheet for you tomorrow before you print it out?"
"I can format a spreadsheet, Jungkook," you whispered back, your eyes darting down to his mouth. His lips were parted slightly, his breathing a little shallow. The sheer, suffocating weight of the unspoken physical tension in the room was becoming completely overwhelming.
"I know you can," he murmured, his thumb slowly, casually stroking the very edge of your notebook page. "But I like helping you. It gives me an easy excuse to sit here like this."
"Like what?" you asked, finally turning your head to face him fully.
The move was a huge mistake. Your faces were so incredibly close now that if either of you leaned forward even an inch, your noses would touch. You could see the tiny mole right beneath his lower lip, the dark, clear depth of his irises, and the intense, serious focus in his expression.
"Like we have absolutely nowhere else to be tonight," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping down to your mouth, his gaze heavy and completely filled with a quiet, patient hunger that he was no longer trying to hide behind a best-friend smile. "Like I don't have to pretend that I'm looking at the paperwork when I'm actually just looking at you."
The entire apartment went completely, utterly silent. The ticking clock on the wall and the roaring rain outside seemed to completely vanish from your mind, leaving nothing but the thick, magnetic heat stretching between your bodies on the floor.
For the past month, you had both been playing completely nice. You had held hands while walking down the street, he had kissed your cheek when he dropped you off at your door after work, and you had gone on quiet, sweet dinner dates to your favorite local spots. You had both been intentionally moving slow, protecting the delicate transition from friends to something more. You wanted to make sure nothing felt rushed, pressured, or messy after your heavy breakup.
But sitting on the floor of your dark living room, with his large frame completely surrounding you and his scent filling your lungs, the feeling starting to turn into something completely impossible to control.
Your fingers instinctively tightened against the plastic of your pen, your knuckles turning white. "Jungkook... you're... you're doing it again."
"Doing what?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, low rumble that felt entirely too intimate in the dark space. He did not pull back; instead, he tilted his head just a fraction of an inch, his eyes never leaving yours.
"You're crowding me," you breathed out, your heart doing a full-scale acrobatic routine against your ribs. "You're using your giant gym shoulders to take up all the oxygen in my living room. I can barely think."
A slow, beautifully wicked smile pulled at the corner of his lips, his eyes crinkling just a tiny bit at the corners. He slowly raised his hand from the binder, his fingers moving through the air with agonizing slowness before he gently, carefully tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His warm fingertips lingered against the sensitive skin of your neck, his touch so light it felt like a whisper against your skin.
"There's plenty of oxygen, sweets," he whispered, his thumb slowly tracing a short, burning line down the side of your neck, his palm resting right against your collarbone. The heat of his hand was intoxicating, making your entire body feel heavy, warm, and weak. "You're just nervous. Because you know exactly what I'm thinking right now."
"I don't have a single clue what goes on in that chaotic brain of yours, Jeon," you retorted weakly, your hand coming up instinctively to press against his broad chest, intending to push him back to a safe distance. But the second your palm hit the soft fabric of his tank top, feeling the solid, rapid, and powerful thumping of his heart beneath your fingers, your strength completely evaporated. Your fingers ended up just curling into the cotton shirt, pulling him a millimeter closer instead.
Jungkook let out a short, sharp breath, his dark eyes darkening significantly as he felt the tight grip of your fingers on his shirt.
"Sweets," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly with a sudden, deep wave of real, unprotected emotion. He did not force a heavy grip on you, and he did not rush forward to steal a kiss. He just kept his large hand resting flat against your neck, his thumb gently caressing your jawline, giving you every single opportunity to pull away if it was too much for you to handle. "We've been being so good for four weeks. I've been the most patient guy in the entire city. I've given you all the space you asked for. But sitting this close to you while you look at me like that... it's starting to feel like a literal torture method."
You stared up at him, your lips parted, your mind completely spinning as the sheer emotional depth of his gaze anchored you to the floor. The last lingering remnants of your past life, the anxiety of the old relationship, the fear of changing the rules of your friendship—it all completely dissolved into the warm, amber light of the room.
"I'm not looking at you like anything," you whispered desperately into the tiny space between your mouths, your eyes locked onto his.
"You are," Jungkook whispered back, his face leaning down just another fraction of an inch, his warm lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "You're looking at me the exact same way I've been looking at you for three long years. And if you don't tell me to go back to my side of the room right now... I am going to completely ruin our safe little boundary tonight."
You did not say a single word. You did not move away, and you did not pull your hand away from his chest.
Instead, your fingers tightened fiercely against the fabric of his tank top, your eyes closing as you slowly leaned your head forward, completely closing the final, agonizing distance between you.
When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't the tentative, careful question from the beach shoreline a month ago. It was a deep, slow, and completely possessive answer. Jungkook let out a low, ragged sigh against your mouth, his large arms finally moving to wrap securely around your waist. He lifted your body completely off the rug and pulled you directly into his lap, closing every single inch of distance between you.
He held you with a heavy, unhurried strength that felt entirely permanent, his mouth moving against yours with a breathless, deep intensity that completely erased the old lines of your friendship. His lips were warm, soft, and demanding, tasting faintly of mint and sweetness. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers tangling into the soft, messy curls at the back of his neck, holding onto him as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.
…
The bedroom was completely quiet. There was no more running, no more cold masks, and no more walls between you. The air felt completely thick with a deep, breathless relief.
You were both still on the floor, right by the side of your unmade bed. Jungkook’s broad back was resting firmly against the edge of the mattress, his long legs spread wide to cradle your body completely inside his space. He had pulled you right onto his lap, your knees framing his hips, bringing your bodies so close that there wasn’t a single inch of empty space left between you. His massive, hands were wrapped tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with a steady, grounding pressure as if he was still terrified you might vanish into the dark night.
His mouth found yours again, and the kiss was entirely different from any clash you had ever shared before. It was deep, wet, and completely filled with an aching, desperate hunger that had been building up for a month. His tongue slid smoothly against yours, tasting the salt of your recent tears, while his hot breath fanned across your cheeks.
As the kiss deepened, Jungkook’s hips gave a slow, heavy tilt upward. The friction was instant. Even through the thick, rough denim of his jeans and the fabric of your clothes, the hard, solid length of his erection pressed firmly against your core. A soft, trembling gasp was pulled right from your throat, your fingers instantly digging into the fabric of his t-shirt.
He didn't speed up. He kept the movement slow, heavy, and incredibly deliberate, dry humping you right there on his lap. Every single time his hips rolled against yours, you could feel the throbbing size of his length pushing hard against your thighs. The friction was building a thick, heavy pool of heat between your legs, making your core clench desperately against the rough denim. He groaned deep in his chest, a low, vibrating sound that went straight down your spine. His mouth moved to your jawline, his lips sucking softly at your skin, leaving a wet trail down to your neck.
"You feel so fucking good, sweets," Jungkook panted darkly, his hot breath brushing against your ear. His large hands slid down from your waist, his palms cupping your ass tightly, lifting you slightly just to press your wet heat even harder against his hard jeans. "I’ve been going completely crazy for months. Do you know how hard it was to watch you walk past me every day and not pull you into a room?"
Your face flushed a deep, burning crimson. You were incredibly shy under his direct, raw words, but your body was completely betraying you, melting into his heavy heat. Your fingers slid up his chest, your palms mapping his muscles. You found yourself completely obsessed with the size of his biceps, your fingers squeezing the hard muscle as he lifted you. You stared down at his chest in the dim light, your breath catching at how massive and solid he felt beneath your hands.
Reaching out with a trembling finger, you playfully flicked his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Jungkook let out a sharp, ragged gasp, his eyes instantly darkening with a wild, teasing intensity. A dominant, beautiful smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, you want to play dirty now, princess?"
Before you could answer, his large hand slid up under your shirt, his rough, warm palms finding your bare skin. His thick fingers captured your nipple, giving it a firm, teasing pinch that sent a sharp, electric jolt of pure pleasure straight down to your thighs. You arched your back, a loud gasp escaping your lips as his thumb began to make tight, heavy circles over the sensitive peak.
You fired back, your fingers tugging at his shirt until you could reach his chest, your thumb and forefinger finding his nipple again, pinching it right back. You were both teasing each other's nipples, the friction and the light pain driving the mood into something incredibly wild, raw, and completely unaligned with the cold distance of the past.
Jungkook couldn't take the distance on the floor anymore. Without breaking the heavy, wet connection of your lips, his massive arms wrapped completely under your thighs and back. He stood up smoothly, lifting your weight as if you weighed nothing at all, and moved the both of you onto the soft mattress of your bed.
He laid you down gently onto the dark blankets, his heavy, muscular frame immediately hovering right over you. He looked down at your face. His eyes were completely dark, filled with a raw, serious vulnerability. Neither of you had ever seen each other completely naked before—every previous encounter had been sweet, and hidden. Tonight was real.
"Hey," Jungkook whispered, his voice incredibly soft, sexy, and deep as he stared directly into your eyes. He reached down, his thumb gently tracing your lower lip. "Look at me, princess. I want to do this right. I want to see every single inch of you. Can I continue? Tell me you want me inside you."
Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a wave of shyness washing over you at his intense focus, but you nodded your head softly, your fingers curling around his wrists. "Yes... Jungkook, please."
A soft, relieved sigh left his lips. He didn't waste another second. With slow, worshipful movements, he reached down and carefully pulled your shirt over your head, completely exposing your breasts to the warm air of the room. Jungkook froze for a long, heavy minute, his breath hitching completely in his throat. He stared at them in the dim light, his eyes completely blown out as he took in the soft, perfect shape of your chest.
"God, you are so beautiful," he growled darkly, his voice rough with an absolute, desperate hunger. He leaned down, his large, scarred hands cupping your breasts roughly, his thick fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He didn't bite brutally; he opened his mouth wide, licking and sucking your nipple deep into his mouth, his tongue making heavy, wet circles around the peak until you were crying out, your fingers twisting into his dark hair.
While he sucked your breast, your hands slid down his broad shoulders, your fingers mapping the thick lines of his back before you reached for the hem of his t-shirt. You pushed the fabric up, your eyes widening as he pulled it off, completely exposing his massive chest, his chiseled abs, and the powerful lines of his biceps. You were completely obsessed with his body, your palms sliding over his warm, tanned skin, feeling the heavy, rapid thumping of his heart beneath his ribs.
Jungkook reached down, his fingers unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your small lace panties. He shifted his body down between your thighs, his knees forcing your legs wide apart. He looked down at your core, his breathing turning ragged.
His large, wrapped hand slid down, his palm resting right over the fabric of your panties. He began to rub his palm in slow, heavy circles over your pussy, flicking his fingers lightly against your hidden clit through the thin lace. He observed your face, watching your eyes flutter shut as you let out a high-pitched, needy whimper.
"Let me see it," Jungkook murmured, his voice a dirty, raw whisper against your thigh. "Can I take these off, sweets? Let me look at you."
You nodded weakly, your hands gripping the bedsheets as he carefully slid the lace panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor. Jungkook stayed on his knees, his dark eyes locking onto your exposed core. In the dim glow of the room, he observed your beautiful, pink-brownish flesh, his eyes tracing the delicate, wet lines of your pussy. You felt incredibly shy under his intense gaze, instinctively trying to close your thighs to hide yourself from him.
"Don't hide from me," he commanded softly, his large hands gripping your knees and gently pushing them wide open again. "You are so fucking perfect. Look how wet you already are for me."
Using his delicate, thick fingers, he reached down and lightly flicked through the thick, clear cream that you had already released through the intense dry humping. He didn't rush. He moved his fingertips slowly over your clit, spreading your own wet juices over the sensitive flesh, making a soft, wet sound that filled the quiet bedroom. He was being incredibly dirty, moving his finger tips in tight, heavy circulation right over your clit, applying a steady, intense pressure that made your hips violently jerk off the bed.
"Ah! Jungkook... it's too much," you cried out, your face flushing as a wave of intense, pre-climax pleasure shot through your lower body.
"It's not too much yet, sweets," he whispered darkly, leaning down until his lips were just millimeters from your wet flesh. He let out a low growl, his tongue darting out to lick right across your clit, tasting your sweet cream. He started giving you a slow, incredibly nice pussy licks, his tongue licking and sucking your sensitive flesh while his fingers slid deep inside your wet core, moving in and out in a perfect, heavy rhythm.
You were writhing under him, your mind completely shattered by the dirty things he was whispering against your thighs, your body melting into the mattress. The pleasure was so pure, so real, and entirely empty of the past.
You reached down, your trembling hands catching his broad shoulders, pulling him up. "Jungkook... please, I want to touch you. Let me hold it."
Jungkook’s eyes flashed with a wild, dark desire, when you suddenly confessed. He shifted his body up, sitting on his knees right over your face. He unbuttoned his jeans, his hands sliding the heavy denim down his long legs until he was completely undressed. Your breath caught completely in your throat. It was your very first time seeing his length completely bare. He was massive, thick, and completely rock-hard, a heavy bead of precum glistening at the very tip of his shaft.
"Hold it, baby," he panted, his voice dripping with a raw, dirty authority. "Take it."
Your hands were shaking as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the thick, warm base of his length. He let out a deep groan as your skin touched his, his jaw clenching tightly. You leaned up slightly, your tongue darting out to softly lick the shaft, moving your lips along the thick veins. You took the head into your mouth, giving him a slow, deep blowjob, your lips tight around his size while your hand moved up and down the length.
Jungkook’s breathing went completely wild. He reached down, his large hands gently gripping your hair, and began to softly mouth fuck you, pushing his thick length deep into your throat in a steady, heavy rhythm. The wet sounds of your mouth fucking filling the space between your gasps for air.
He moved with a heavy, intense pace until his entire body went completely rigid. He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes looking down at your face, his voice a tight, strained rasp.
"Sweets... I'm close. Do you want me to come inside your mouth? Tell me."
You looked right into his wild, obsessed eyes, your heart completely melting at how real and vulnerable he looked. You nodded your head firmly, letting out a soft hum of agreement.
Jungkook let out a low, animalistic roar, pushing his thick length all the way back into your mouth to the very root. His body trembled violently as he released, pouring his thick, hot, and heavy cum right down your throat. You swallowed every single drop, your hands rubbing his thighs as his release pumped out against your tongue.
The moment he finished, he slowly pulled away, his breathing ragged. He didn't leave you alone for even a single second. Jungkook immediately pulled you back up into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around you as he gave you a sweet, tender aftercare for a full minute, kissing your lips, your forehead, and your wet cheeks, whispering how much he loved you into your skin.
But the night was far from over. The raw, unprotected heat between your bodies was still burning completely out of control.
Jungkook shifted your body, positioning you flat on your back once more. He crawled between your thighs, his thick, heavy length already semi-hard again, pressing right against the entrance of your wet pussy. He paused, his hands framing your hips, his eyes locking onto yours with a serious, deep focus.
Suddenly, with a playful, dominant smirk, his large hand came down, giving a loud, sharp slap right against your wet pussy flesh. The loud CLAP echoed through the room, making your eyes widen in pure, shocked arousal.
"You're so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered darkly, his thumb finding your clit to begin a heavy circulation through the thick juices. He positioned the thick head of his dick right at your opening. "Can I put it back in? Let me slide all the way inside you, sweets."
"Yes... please, Jungkook, put it in," you screamed out, your pride completely gone.
Jungkook gave a deep, slow push, his massive, unprotected dick sliding smoothly and deeply right into your tight, wet core, bottoming out completely to the absolute root. A loud, desperate scream tore from your throat, your fingers digging deep into his biceps as he began to push in and out of you, starting the real, unbroken rhythm of the night.
Every single thrust was slow, heavy, and completely bottoming out inside your tight, swollen core. The unprotected friction between your bodies felt entirely different—it was an overwhelming, melting heat that stripped away the last remaining doubts in your mind.
His large hands were locked firmly around your hips, his calloused thumbs digging into your skin to anchor you against the soft mattress. With every slow, deliberate push, the wet, squelching sound of his thick shaft sliding through your excess juices filled the quiet room. You lay beneath him with your legs spread wide, your head tossing back against the pillows as a high, breathless whimpering tore from your throat.
"Look at me, sweets," Jungkook panted, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that shook your chest. He leaned his heavy upper body down, his broad chest pressing flat against yours, trapping your smaller frame under his massive weight. "Don't close your eyes. Look at how much of my dick you're taking right now."
You forced your eyelids open, your vision slightly blurred by tears of pure, intense pleasure. In the dim amber light of the streetlamps, his dark eyes were completely fixed on yours. There was a raw, beautiful vulnerability in his gaze—an absolute surrender that perfectly mirrored your own. The pride that had kept you apart for months was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, aching dependency that you finally permitted yourself to feel.
"Jungkook... ah! It feels... so deep," you choked out, your fingers sliding up his damp, muscular arms, your palms completely obsessed with the thick, hard curve of his biceps. You squeezed the solid muscle tightly as he delivered a slow, crushing surge that hit your spot perfectly from the front.
"Because it is deep, baby. Fucking deep," he growled softly, a low, vibrating chuckle rumbling against your chest. He stopped moving for a split second, his thick length buried to the absolute root inside you, letting you feel the full, throbbing weight of his erection. His hand slid up from your hip, his long, scarred fingers wrapping roughly around your breast. His thumb flicked over your highly sensitive nipple, applying a firm, teasing pressure that made your internal walls instantly convulse around his shaft. "I want to be so deep inside you that you can't think about anyone or anything else. You're completely filled with me."
He began to move again, but this time, he altered his angle, his hips moving in a tight, heavy circulation. The rolling motion of his pelvis against your clit, combined with the deep, deep strokes of his dick, was completely lethal. A sharp, loud scream escaped your lips, your back arching violently off the mattress as the friction reached a boiling point.
Jungkook let out a ragged gasp, his own head dropping into the crook of your neck. He began to suck and bite at your collarbone, leaving light, wet marks while his lower body kept up the relentless, circulating rhythm. He reached his hand down between your thighs, his thick thumb finding your swollen, dripping clit through the thick white cream that was beginning to coat his groin. He began to make tight, heavy, fast circles against your clit, matching the speed of his thumbs to the deep, grinding thrusts of his hips.
The combination completely shattered your mind. You were drowning in the raw, dirty reality of his touch. You could feel his thick veins pulsing against your internal walls, every single millimeter of his size stretching you open, forcing your body to stay in a constant, crushing state of climax.
"Jungkook! Please... I'm going to come... ah!" you sobbed out, your hands moving to the back of his neck, your fingers twisting desperately into his damp, dark hair to pull him down for a deep, wet kiss.
"Come for me then, love," he muttered against your lips, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth to swallow your high, needy cries. "Clench around my dick. Let me feel how tight you get when you ruin yourself for me."
Your body completely gave in. A massive, violent orgasm tore through your entire lower body, your internal walls clenching around his thick shaft so tightly that Jungkook let out a loud, animalistic roar of pure agony. His thrusts became faster, heavier, and completely unforgiving for a few wild seconds, his chest slamming against yours as he chased his own release through your convulsions. But even in his desperation, his large hands remained gentle around your waist, keeping you grounded, keeping you safe against him.
He didn't pull out when your body finished trembling. He kept his cock buried deep inside you, his heavy breathing filling the quiet room as he waited for your internal pulses to slow down. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, your wet cheeks, and the tip of your nose, his touch filled with an unbelievable, heartbreaking sweetness that made your heart melt completely.
"You're so perfect, baby, So perfect," he whispered, his rough voice completely stripped of its usual dominant edge. He reached down, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of damp hair away from your face. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I'm never letting you go back to that cold past ever."
You leaned up, your lips softly pressing against his chiseled jawline, your heart completely full. "I don't want to go back, Jungkook. I just want to stay right here."
He let out a soft, beautiful laugh, his dark eyes shining with an absolute, devoted warmth. He slowly pulled his semi-hard length out of your core, a soft, wet sound echoing in the quiet room as your shared juices spilled onto his thighs. Jungkook didn't leave your side for a single second.
He immediately pulled you into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around your waist, pulling the thick blankets completely over both of your shoulders to shield you. As the quiet night settled over the small apartment, you rested your head against his heart, your fingers intertwined with his scarred hand, finally, completely free. "I love you sweets," he planked a kiss to your lips.
"I love you too."
...
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a/n: fr enjoyed writing this one sm!! nd made me feel so much aww in a way i can’t even explain lol. tbh this is a trope i’ve never actually tried before, so i really wanted to experiment with it in a super detailed way. i def didn't want to rush anything or just jump straight into the plot just to force them to confess love for each other immediately. i really hope u guys love the slow build up & how it turned out! thank you for showing so much love for the teaser !!! layout ur thoughts in the comments pls <3 REBLOGS ARE ALSO APPRECIATED
