#goldenclosetnet

[bratkook]

come over. (m) jjk

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp,  warnings. jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, smut in forms of: mutual masturbation, voyeurism through bedroom windows, rough sex, oral (m receiving), jungkook is a lil mean but just a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, unprotected sex word count. 7.2k summary. the guilt of being a dirty peeping tom eats Jungkook alive, not knowing this was all part of your elaborate plan to sleep with the new neighborhood eye candy. author’s note. #84 requested by @taestybae​ from this promp list! ty for sending this in bby 🖤 (requests now closed)

Jungkook knows it's wrong, god does he know it's wrong. Acting as if he didn’t mean to leave his blinds cracked open, tilted at just the right angle that allows him to still be able to see out, the view he’s granted being your own window a few feet away. 

It’s funny now, how when he had first purchased the town house he had hated how close his neighbors were to him, and now here he was, an absolute pervert who was thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings.

The self proclaimed pervert simply sits at his desk, mindlessly going through work emails while his eyes continue to drift up, staring through his blinds for any sign of movement. 

Jungkook’s chest feels tight as he waits, eyeing the ticking clock in the corner of his screen and seeing it was nearing nine at night. Maybe you had plans tonight, going out with your friends, mind too preoccupied to indulge the filthy fantasies Jungkook had swirling in his head. It had become his favorite daily activity, sneaking a peek at you, sometimes doing simple things like relaxing with a face mask, or having a dance party. 

Of course those moments were all adorable but his favorite moments were the ones where you would walk around topless or lather lotion on your body after a shower. Sometimes you’d take the teasing a step further, blinds fully opened with only the sheer curtain coming in between him and your shadowed silhouette, caught in the act of what he could only assume was you touching yourself. 

Jungkook used to think it was purely accidental, just a careless neighbor who had no idea his bedroom had the perfect view, but he swore you had made eye contact with him far too many times for this to not be intentional.

Before his mind can spiral further, there’s suddenly a flicker of light and like a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes lock in to their target, seeing you walking into your room with a small towel draped over your shoulder, sports bra and tiny workout shorts showing him how your body was glistening in sweat. 

Pushing off his desk, his chair rolls and squeaks along his floor so he could get a better view, completely invested in seeing the way you get comfortable after your trip to the gym. Call it creepy or call it attentive but Jungkook had grown to know your schedule, you were his neighbor who enjoyed giving him peep shows so it was sort of hard for him not to realize the usual routine you had. However, this was the first time he had seen you come back from the gym this late. 

Jungkook groans now at his realization, palm coming to rub down his face as he hears his own thoughts, behaving like a man who had a notebook where he jotted down your schedule. 

He didn’t, but still, he felt like a creep. A dirty fucking creep. 

With his eyes screwed shut he shuffles the chair back to its rightful spot like a child in time out, angling his body to prevent his wandering eyes from looking through his window once more, the shame once again eating away at him like it did every time. 

Did you really do this on purpose? 

Of course you did, you weren’t stupid. 

The second Jungkook moved into your neighborhood he became the talk of the street, suburban house moms, young teenage girls, even your elderly neighbor had begun to wonder who the cute boy who went jogging down the street was. He oozed sex appeal, not even realizing how swooned he had everyone with his morning workout, he just thought everyone waved and smiled at him out of pure friendliness. 

Although he had no idea how hot he looked, you were blessed with the gift of vision and common sense. It only took you one glance of him exiting his house, long hair partially tied back, running shorts hugging his thighs so beautifully and you were sold. 

The minute you realized he was your next door neighbor it was like a lightbulb went off above your head, it was a blessing in disguise and you were not about to pass up the opportunity to have this go in your favor. Giving him a front row seat to you and everything you had to offer was the cards you chose to play and so far it had been going well. 

That is until you exit the shower, excitement coursing through you, already wondering how you’re going to tease him tonight. With your towel loosely hanging around your chest, you’re ready for the small show, but as you get into your usual position you notice that his blinds are now tightly closed, no gap between the shutters to allow him a peak of you. 

It’s a sudden and very unexpected chain of events. With a small huff of disappointment you perch yourself onto the end of your bed, directly facing your window as you sit in thought, your saucy plans for the night being ruined. 

Wondering just what could have made Jungkook flip a switch like that kept you up at night so when you see him coming in from his run the following morning as you leave for work you don’t think twice about speaking up. 

Your neighbor flinches when you greet him in good morning, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him but he could thank your connected driveways for that. 

“Oh, good morning.” he smiles politely, pulling out his airpod and pausing his music entirely to give you his full attention. The small nerves of being called out bubble up inside of him, only having talked to you once prior he wasn’t really sure where this conversation would go, were you about to call him a disgusting pervert?

“Did you call it a night really early last night?” You bite instantly, soft smile not giving away your true intentions but he knows, the way his eyes widen slightly make it obvious. 

“Yeah,” he sputters out, wiping his sweaty palms on his black shorts, nerves already making his heart skip. You knew, there was absolutely no way you didn’t and this solidified it. He had assumed you did, his guilty conscience making him believe what you did was intentional in order for him not to feel like the peeping Tom he very clearly was, but hearing you sneakily admit to knowing he hadn’t watched you last night made him feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. 

“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately so..”

You simply nod along as he trails off in a lie, lips spreading out into a smirk as your eyes very obviously give him a once over, focusing on the deep cuts of his sleeves that expose his sides and art filled arm, how the shorts he wears hit above his knee and leave his glorious thighs out for you to see. He was truly blind to his good looks. 

“Sorry I haven’t really given you a proper neighborly welcome, can I have your number?” Already fishing your phone out of your pocket because you knew he wouldn’t say no, still you tack on a helpful lie to make your flirting a little more subtle. “The neighbors have a group chat, I’ll add you to it so you can get all the hot gossip.”

If he knows you're lying he doesn’t show it, instead he looks a tiny bit disappointed that you wanted his number to add him to a neighborhood group chat. Regardless he recites his number with a smile, his phone instantly vibrating in his palm with a text from you, a friendly ‘hi neighbor’ with a waving emoji at the end. 

As he starts to save your contact you open up your car door, grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll text you if I ever need sugar...or other neighborly things.”

The suggestive teasing in your tone isn’t lost on him now, his cheeks flushing at the implications behind your words. “Yeah, whatever you need.” 

He’s admittedly even more disappointed when your message thread runs dry, not even being added to the gossip group chat that he was sort of curious about. You hadn’t even given him a show since the night he shut his blinds but it was all part of your plan, expertly crafted to go in your favor. 

While you’re at work you get the email that sets everything in motion, a notification of your package being out for delivery. A very cute baby pink wand would be placed at your door step in discreet packaging and if things went the way you anticipated it would be making its proper debut tonight, hopefully with an audience of one. 

Jungkook is pulled away from his computer screen when his phone vibrates against his desk, your name illuminated on his homescreen. He pauses for a moment, wondering if this was simply a text initiating him into that damn group chat that he had no idea didn’t actually exist, but when he unlocks it and opens up the thread he sees it's just you. 

Y/N 3:48pm : hi jungkook, sorry to do this but im getting a suuuper important package delivered today could you please keep it safe until i get home later tonight? 🥺🖤

You wanted him to guard a package, just neighborly things, exactly what you said you would text him for. 

Jungkook 3:49pm : sure, what is it?

He feels stupid immediately after hitting send, fingers curling together into fists as his eyes glare at his screen. Why the hell would he ask what the package was? Being a peeping Tom was clearly not enough, no he had to know about your online purchases. 

Y/N 3:52pm : just something for sore muscles 😅

Just like a typical horny boy would, his mind wanders to what exactly could be in the box, quickly texting you an ‘okay!👍🏻’ before locking his phone altogether. He was going to lose his mind. 

All according to plan. 

Jungkook guards that package with his life, placed delicately on his kitchen counter, exactly where he left it the minute he saw the postman drop it off. He’s been glued to his couch since then, regularly looking over his shoulder to ensure the brown box wouldn’t spontaneously disappear. 

Just as he feels himself getting antsy the gentle knocking from his front door has him springing up from his couch, pausing a few feet away from the door as he eyes the knob before looking back at the package. Should he greet you with it in his hands, or would that seem like he was trying to rush you away?

When you knock a second time he opts for just opening the door, seeing you standing there with that friendly smile, a small tweed skirt and matching top showing him you had just got off work, his eyes focusing on your exposed legs for a moment too long until your voice snaps him out of it. 

“Hi Jungkook,” you greet him with that honey sweet voice, the tiny glimmer in your eyes betraying you but he doesn’t spot it. “Did you get my package?”

“Hey, yeah I did.” Leaving the door ajar, he steps further into his home, quickly retrieving the light box and bringing it to you, still patiently waiting with that polite smile as if you didn’t know what was packaged inside that box. 

“You’re a lifesaver!” you cheer, holding it close to your chest with a small sigh, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this got stolen.”

Jungkook can feel his face warm up, not able to stop his mouth from running on autopilot, unintentionally outing himself as an extremely observant neighbor. “You must be really sore from going to the gym all the time huh?”

There's a silence that falls over you both as you eye him curiously, gaze flickering with the same mischief from earlier, something he can easily spot now and he desperately wants to shrink into himself. 

“Definitely,” you agree with a laugh, “thanks again, have a good night!”

And just like that you’re gone, leaving him with his forehead pressed against his front door as he feels like an idiot. “Really, you must be sore?” He mocks his own voice, rolling his eyes before standing up straight and retreating back into his room to finish the work he had neglected in favor of protecting your package. 

The same package that you were currently clutching onto as you bolted up your stairs with a pair of scissors in the opposite hand, debatably not the safest choice but it had to be done. You feel like a crazed woman as you stab into the clear tape to break the seal, peeling back the flaps and letting out a giddy laugh when you spot the sleek white box, a photo of the device printed on the front. 

With steady hands you pull out the prized toy, carelessly tossing the empty boxes to the side, hearing them land with a light thud. The soft silicone against your thumb fills you with anticipation, a silent click against the first button dulls down the excitement when it refuses to turn on. 

“Stupid fucking chargers.” you grunt, setting the device down and making your way back to the discarded boxes, pulling out the tiny white cable to plug it in. 

The provided pamphlet states a full charge in one hour, plenty of time for you to get a grip on yourself, the last thing you needed was to rip open your blinds and come face to face with your hot neighbor with the crazy eyes you’re sure you were sporting earlier, you really didn’t need to scare him off before the main event. 

Jungkook is none the wiser as he mindlessly scrolls through the endless data in front of him, eyes floating through the numbers in a dazed manner, his mind far too occupied with that stupid package. He knew exactly what it was, proudly deciphering the code of something for sore muscles to spell out vibrator for him in giant neon letters. 

Were you using it now, in your bedroom a good feet away from his own, laid out on your bed directly in his line of sight?

His mind continues to play out salacious scenarios as you finish applying your favorite lotion after the small body shower you took, the silk robe hanging off your shoulder as you bend forward. Your pink toy lays on your bed, the buttons now blinking to indicate a full charge, your plan was now back in motion. 

As you step back into your room and slowly crack open your blinds you realize Jungkook’s are still tightly shut. Looking up into the slowly darkening sky you notice the clouds beginning to loom overhead, a smile spreading on your lips as you think of a way to get Jungkook to open up his blinds for the show. 

Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a text a few seconds later, eyes widening slightly when he realizes it’s from you. 

Y/N 7:02pm : lol does it look like its gonna rain to you?

His head tilts in confusion at your question, nonetheless he stands from his desk, fully sliding up his blinds to stare up at the sky. When he notices the grey clouds he looks down at his phone to start to type, the small flash of movement from across the way making him freeze, looking directly through your window once more and seeing you innocently sitting on your bed, staring right at him with a smile. 

Jungkook can feel how wide his eyes get as he stares at you, leg crossed over the other as you rest back onto your palms, head tilted as you wave at him in greeting. Right where you want him. 

His hand raises up to wave back at you, the voice in his head screaming every obscenity he could think of as he attempts to smile, the grimace in his face making it hard for you not to laugh. 

You start slow, wanting to give him enough time to shut his blinds if he really wants no part in this, your hand coming up to begin pushing the robe off your shoulder further, the first sliver of skin being exposed to his eyes. Jungkook wants to scream, bang his head into the glass as he sees the way your skin glimmers, already knowing you had lathered on that damn lotion of yours. 

When he doesn’t move you let the other sleeve fall down, the swell of your breasts holding up the soft material, shielding them from his sight for another moment. Your eyes never leave his face, needing to see his reaction when you sit up straight and let the material pool around your hips, tits fully exposed for him to see. 

His reaction is well worth it, jaw dropping slightly as he spots the way your nipples harden in the exposed air, forehead nearly ramming into the window when you bring your hand up to pinch and twist at the pebbled buds. He feels his cock stirring in his pants when your head drops back, lips opening up to let out what he knows is the prettiest moan, head leveling out as you bite your lip and stare at him once more. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do as he watches you, champagne colored robe still hooked around your elbows as you reach behind your bed and pick up the pink toy you had bought today. The metallic capped bottom shines in the light and he feels like he’s caught in a trance as you showcase it. 

For a moment your attention drops down, landing on your phone as you quickly type out a message before setting it aside once more. His phone comes to life in his hand, nearly scaring him with its vibrations. 

Y/N 7:18pm : touch yourself please

He swears he’s gonna bust his load then and there, typing out a quick ‘okay’, a message you ignore entirely in favor of turning on your toy. The excited look in your eyes is clear as day when the device buzzes in your hand, Jungkook’s eager fingers unbuttoning his jeans as you start to trail the vibrating head along your body, passing over your nipples and gasping at the ticklish feeling. 

Looking across the way once more you see Jungkook’s gaze locked onto you, his body fully illuminated by his bedroom light, allowing you to see his hands start to push his pants down, taking his black briefs with them. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip as he raises his palm up to messily spit into it before coming back down to fist his slowly hardening cock. His covered chest rises and falls as he huffs out a breath, slowly squeezing his shaft as he glides up towards his head, coating his palm in the stray beads of precum that drip out of it. 

This further solidified that Jungkook was a pervert, at least in his own mind, who else would be so eager to jack off to the sight of their neighbor this easily. You didn’t think so though, knowing every one of your actions had a purpose, Jungkook wasn’t a pervert for being a predictable boy, he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do. 

As the head of your toy trails down your chest you take your time, circling your navel before reaching your hips, sliding down your thighs as you lean further back and begin to spread them apart. In a slow movement that Jungkook can’t look away from, you finally reveal yourself to him, folds glistening with your arousal, coating your inner thighs, allowing the toy to glide with ease. 

Jungkook groans loudly as you pass the buzzing toy over your clit, a featherlike touch that makes you twitch and moan, his hand tightening around his cock as he twists on the way up. You were absolutely sin personified, giving him a show as you tease yourself, mouth dropped open as you finally press the toy against your clit, fingers slipping into your entrance and pumping inside of you. He can only imagine the way you sound as you stretch yourself open, hips rolling up into your hand as the pleasure jolts through you. 

Fuck, what he would do to be able to touch you, hear your moans, be the one to hold that toy against you until you were writhing around. 

You can see it in his eyes, the want clouding them as he watches you, his hand steadily pumping his length, quickening up each time your body twitches. When you pull the toy away his brows furrow, releasing his cock as he places his sticky palm against the window, wondering just what you were planning now as you reach for your phone once more. 

It only takes you a few seconds to type out the message and hit send, looking up at him with that same predatory gaze you’ve been wearing all night. As he unlocks his phone again you stand up, letting the robe fully slide off your body, pooling around your feet as you step closer to your window, arms crossed under your chest to push your tits out further as you watch him. 

Y/N 7:32pm : come over

He rereads the message three times, cock still out for you to see as he contemplates his options, finally looking back up and nearly choking when he sees the way you’re almost pressed against your own window, a sweet smile on your lips as you wave him over. That helps him make his decision, locking his phone and groaning as he slips his cock back into his briefs and shimmies his pants back on. 

Your eyes gleam as he turns to exit his room, the light dimming off as he bolts down his stairs towards his front door. When he steps out onto his porch he sees the ground is damp, small droplets now falling from the sky, the chill creeping through his thin layers as he navigates across your connected driveways with his palms covering his extremely prominent bulge. 

“Please be unlocked,” he whispers under his breath when he gets to your door, turning the knob and sighing in relief when it unlocks. Jungkook doesn’t care about manners as he steps in, locking the door behind him and instantly climbing the stairs two at a time, already knowing where your room was since your house was a mirror copy of his own. 

When he finally pushes his door open he finds you perched on your bed, fully naked and waiting for him with that same toy trailing up and down your torso. The need for introductions are thrown out the window as he crosses the room, immediately settling beside you, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. 

It catches you by surprise, the normally shy neighbor who got nervous whenever you caught him staring, never expecting him to be the type to go after what he wanted like this but the way he takes control makes you lean into his touch. His lips are tender against yours, hand guiding your face closer as he slowly licks his way into your mouth, a moan of approval leaving you as his warm tongue tickles yours. 

You’d often fantasized about kissing him, wondering if he was the type to tease, to pull back and leave you wanting more but the desperation guides his movements, stops him from not fulfilling his own desires. Jungkook kisses you with passion, hunger leading him until he’s pushing you flat on your back, hands dropping down to gently hold onto your neck. 

The toy is cast to the side, your own hands sliding through his long hair as you sigh into his mouth, the wet smacks of each kiss filling your ears. 

“Take it off,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your hands down his back and tugging his shirt up, determined to rip it off of him to finally see the glorious body you know he has. Jungkook presses a quick kiss against you before kneeling up and pulling his shirt off by his neckline, each inch of exposed skin making your mouth water. 

The way his muscles rippled, pulled taut as he stretches out and tosses the black long sleeve aside, bulging out when he finally relaxes, you can’t help but let your fingers trace each ridge on his stomach. Jungkook lets you take him in, not opposed to the lust swirling in your eyes, your tongue licking over your lips as you admire him, following the lines of each tattoo up his arm until you reach his face. 

“Like what you see?” he murmurs, looking down at you with lidded eyes, letting them roam along your body, the swell of your tits that rise with each breath, how your hips can’t keep still, searching for any bit of friction you could find. 

“You’re fucking unreal.”

He holds his breath when you begin undoing his pants, in a hurry to see his cock without the distance between you. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he realizes, the completely unphased look on your face, the perfectly executed texts and package delivery, just knowing that he had done everything you wanted him to do. 

“It was fun though wasn’t it Jungkook, tell me–“ he helps you tug his jeans down, his briefs going with them and joining his shirt on the floor, “What did you like more, seeing me do everyday things or watching me play with myself?”

A choked groan slips past his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly sliding up his length as you question him, enjoying the way he struggles to respond. “God you’re filthy,” he grunts, jaw slack as you sit up, face now level with his cock as he rests on his knees. 

The sly smirk you give him shows that you know this, know exactly how filthy you are, using it to your advantage to get what you wanted. With bated breath he watches the way you inch forward, tongue sticking out to gently lick the swollen head of his cock, the salty bead of precum picked up by your tongue. 

“Can’t help it.” You sink onto him as the words leave your mouth, lips wrapping around him and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him, the wetness of your tongue circling his tip making his stomach tense up, muscles flexing to keep himself from thrusting into your throat. 

The small moan you let out as he fills your mouth makes his body rattle, the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue as you slide further down, wrapping your hand around the base to steady yourself. This was much more satisfying than seeing him play with himself a few feet away, the sighs of appreciation that float in the air each time you pull back make you keep going, wanting to see him fall apart. 

Jungkook doesn’t know when his hands tangle themselves in your hair, taking it upon himself to guide you up and down his length, starting a filthy rhythm that lit his body up. He urges you down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you further onto him until you’re choking as he fills your throat. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes full of tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock. 

He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, the wet gasp you let out ripping through the air as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on your face, eyeing his messy length, bobbing slightly as he moves around. 

Leaning over you once more his hands cup your face, thumb rubbing under your eyes where he spots the unshed tears threatening to spill over, collecting against your lower lashes. “Fuck, I bet you’re pretty when you cry.”

The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip, more wetness coating your thighs and further ruining your sheets. “Make me,” you whisper, smiling when his eyebrows raise in question. “Make me cry Jungkook.”

His cock throbs at your response, wanting nothing more than to do what you want, turn you into a crying mess as you beg for him like he often thought about. “You sure?”

With a small nod you’re crawling backwards, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him as he eyes your exposed cunt, sodden folds shining when you wiggle your hips. “I’m sure.”

Jungkook fists his cock as he approaches you, slotting his knees between your thighs, inching forward until he’s circling your entrance in a teasing motion. Flashes of the way you had spread yourself open minutes prior play in his mind as he slowly breaches your entrance, the first feeling of you taking his breath away, eyes falling shut as you let out the first moan. 

Your hands fist the sheets as he stretches you open, his size filling you up so deliciously, inch by inch splitting you open. He can’t look away from it, mesmerized with the way you take him in, molding around him like he was meant to be there. 

A whimper leaves you as he presses his palms onto your ass, holding you still once he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against you, walls fluttering around him as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 

“This is–“ you groan when he slides back a little, “this is just how I pictured it.” The laughter laced in your voice piques his interest, leaning over your body to see you with your face pressed against your sheets, a teasing smile on your face. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook questions, tightening his grip on your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, no doubt marking them for you to see later. “You pictured getting fucked from behind by your neighbor?”

“Mhm,” you squeal out, giggling when he starts to fuck into you, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, the small smack of your skin mixing in with your laughter and moans. 

“I knew it,” he grunts, trailing his hand up your spine, around your neck until his palm was pressing your face into the mattress, holding you down as he ravished you, stretched you apart and turned your impure thoughts into mush. “Knew you did it on purpose, fuck, do you know how guilty I felt?”

Your walls tighten around him and he moans out at the feeling, the warmth sucking him back in each time he pulled out, the wet squelch of you soaking his cock getting louder each time. 

“S-sorry.” It's quiet, but he knows you don’t mean it, knows the words are lace with trouble as you start to rut back onto him, the playful smile felt against his palm spelling it out for him. 

“Oh you’re sorry?” Jungkook picks up his merciless pace, knowing he found the right rhythm when you let out a cry of surprise, arching further for him and keening as he nudges against your sweet spot, the first sparks of your orgasm flashing within you. The fact that you were getting what you want sending you closer to the edge faster than expected. 

“No, I’m not,” you admit, shamelessly moaning with each thrust. There was no way in hell you were sorry, if this was the outcome you’d do it all again the same exact way. Jungkook wouldn’t argue with that, the earlier guilt he felt long gone, replaced with pure hunger, only increasing when your moans start to get breathier, the panting felt against his hand, hot and heavy as you whimpered. 

“I know you’re not, you love putting on a show for me huh, knowing I was watching you from my window while you fucked with me.”

His words make your mind spin, the intoxicating roll of his hips dragging you under into the same state of desperation he was in, weeks of mindless torture fueling the both of you with more than enough sexual frustration. 

“I loved it,” you whine when he pushes your face harder into the sheets, the roughness he’s displaying making your stomach flip, thighs spreading out further for him and you let out a trembling moan when he sinks deeper into you. 

You were going to cum, he recognized the way your body tightened up, walls clamping around him, making him curse as he continues to rut into you. Jungkook smiles as you cry out, chest pushing into your mattress, hands pulling at your sheets in desperation until suddenly, you’re cumming with a shout of his name, the feeling taking you completely by surprise. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”

He gasps as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs, creaming his cock until it's slick with your arousal. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time pulling out of you, needing to see your face as he sank back into you, now on your back with a dazed out smile. 

A soft groan drips off your tongue, thick and needy when he bottoms out once more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he starts to rock into you, forehead sweaty with his long hair falling around his face. It frames him perfectly, a simple curtain letting you see every expression he gives you, a private show just for you to witness. 

“Wanna make you cry,” he confesses, bending down and kissing your chest, his right hand mindlessly swatting at the bed until he finds exactly what he’s looking for, that damn vibrator he had guarded with his life earlier. 

The second the small vibrations meet your ears, your eyes go wide, catching the evil smirk on his lips as he holds the toy between you, fidgeting with the settings until it’s low enough to start. “Wait Jungkook, I’m sensitive.”

He leans back enough to trail the head down your stomach, taunting you as he circles your hips and reaches your mound. “You told me to make you cry though didn’t you baby?”

The excitement rushes through you once more, letting out shaky gasp as he just barely touches your sensitive clit, your body jolting and squeezing around his cock. Jungkook shuts his eyes at the feeling, bringing it back to rest against the tiny pearl, the low settings making a hum course through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“Ah, Jungkook,” you cry, chest heaving as he starts to fuck you again, hips swirling around, unsure if you want to retreat from the toy or press against it harder, the slight sting of pain morphing into pleasure the longer he keeps it up. 

“What?” he mocks, raising the settings until you’re shouting, a delirious laugh following suit as your thighs tighten around his waist in reflex. Jungkook knows you love this, your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you stare at him with glassy eyes full of tears, urging him to fuck you harder, begging him for more. 

He does what you ask, pistoning his hips into you with enough force to jostle your body, the head of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, waves of pleasure mixing in with the vibrations against your clit. Jungkook can feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, crawling up his spine, goosebumps flaring out on his skin, each wet thrust and cry from you only pushing him closer. 

Jungkook watches you carefully, lost in his own pleasure but focused enough to see the way your eyes well up further, the needy sobs you release as he fucks you just right wrapping around him and urging him on, not wanting to hold back when this is what you’ve been wanting. 

The small inkling to be mean and actually see the tears fall spurs something inside of him. With a few more clicks the vibrator hits the highest setting, buzzing intensely against your clit and you nearly thrash at the sudden feeling, back arching up as you gasp. 

Jungkook chuckles, the low timbre making you whimper as he presses the head of the toy harder against you. “You gonna cum again, make a big mess around my cock?”

“Jungkook,” it’s a choked cry of his name, your arms seeking purchase around his frame, needing something to ground you as you start to float off. 

“C’mon, wanna see you cry.” He watches in awe as your body tenses of for a moment, the pleasure catching just right to push you over. 

“Fuck, fuck–“ you chant, words slurring together as a second orgasm is pulled out of you, eyes rolling back when the euphoric feeling crashes over you, tears finally spilling over and body turning limp as he continues to fuck you through it just like the last one. He feels like he won as the wetness pools under your eyes, brows furrowing together as you mewl at the feeling of your orgasm cresting, heartbeat slowing in your chest as you come down. 

“So good,” he mumbles at the high vibrations felt against his cock, the flutters from your velvety walls keeping him from turning it off, sliding it down a bit closer to your entrance until he’s gasping as well. 

“Too much,” you plead, eyes misty as you stare at him, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan when he ruts against you in search of his own release. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen against your skin. 

“I knew you’d look pretty when you cry.” He sighs, shutting his eyes when you pulse around his length. “I’m almost there, you okay?”

His concern makes you smile, nodding as you place your hand over his own on your face, dealing with the oversensitivity for him to get his own release. “Yeah, cum inside me please.”

Jungkook groans in response, sliding the vibrator further down until it rests against the base of his cock, gliding along his length with each of his thrusts, the buzzing making his body tingle. 

“Shit,” he grunts out, hips fucking you with more urgency, rutting against you sloppily, eyes opening up to stare directly at you and the lustfilled look you give him is what pushes him over. A choked groan dies in his throat when he sinks into you as deep as he can, spurts of his cum filling you up as his face twists in pleasure, mouth dropped open to release a soft moan that you swallow with a sweet kiss.  

You hum against his lips when he thrusts shallowly a few more times until finally coming to a halt, turning off the toy and chucking it aside with no care before collapsing on top of you in pure dramatics. Jungkook has no qualms about how much he weighs, making himself right at home as he nuzzles into your chest, sighing in content when you rake your fingers through his hair. 

“I feel sweaty, and I know I made a mess on your sheets.” Jungkook mumbles out, cheek pressed against your tits, eyes slipped shut with his slowly softening cock still inside of you. No doubt would your sheets be damp with an unholy mixture of the night's debauchery, something you would surely deal with later. 

“It’s okay, I like the mess.” Your words are meant to be joking but the way his cock twitches inside you shows he takes everything you say seriously, simply rolling your eyes with a smile as you tease him further. “You’re a pervert.”

Jungkook scoffs at this now, taking full offense as he pulls out of you with an accusatory glare, eyes zeroing in on your evil smile as you prop yourself up against your headboard. “I’m the pervert?” When you nod he laughs loudly, finger pointing at you in a less than threatening manner, “Says the one who gave me free shows every night!”

“It’s not my fault you’re easy to rope in, you were hooked the second you saw me have that dance party in here huh?”

He nods instantly, knowing exactly what night you were talking about, it was the night he had moved in, before you had even realized he was your neighbor, having a full on dance party to some top 40’s from the 2000’s playlist you found. That was the first night he ever saw you and ever since then he had left his blinds cracked just to see a glimpse of you, not knowing what lewd ideas you had planned. 

“Was it the facemask that did it for you?” You laugh, playfully nudging his side with your foot as he glares, the small smile on his face showing you he wasn’t taking this seriously. 

“No, it was those sexy ass boyshorts you had on, I think they were grey. They made your ass look nice.”

He laughs with you as you squeal, knowing exactly what pair of underwear you had on, the oversized shirt doing nothing to hide them as you danced around like a lunatic. 

“Is this gonna be a thing?” he wonders, taking it upon himself to enter your bathroom to grab a towel, the least he could do was clean up the mess he had caused between your thighs. 

“What?”

“Should I text you about the weather tomorrow, call you over to mine this time? I’ll let you choke me if you’re into that.” He says it so casually it catches you by surprise, a cackle leaving you as he finishes cleaning you up, handing you your robe to cover up as he slips back into his underwear. 

“Are you into that?”

“I could be,” he winks, flopping onto your bed beside you, letting his hand trail up your thigh until it reaches the hem of your robe, tracing the goosebumps that flare up because of it. 

That was definitely something you could work with, mind already planning out the next time you’d torture your neighbor, wondering just how your hands would look like wrapped around his thick neck. Maybe you could see if he looked pretty when he cried. 

He spots the mischief in your face instantly but before he could indulge you further, there was one thing absolutely eating away at his mind. “By the way, you never added me to that gossip group chat.”

Your lips purse into a tight smile as your fingers return to his hair, twirling each strand as you hold back a laugh, knowing it absolutely did not exist. You weren’t in the mood to crush his spirit, knowing he desperately wanted to know the ins of the neighborhood gossip so you simply shrug in faux apology, telling yet another white lie. “My bad, I’ll add you tomorrow.”

It’s good enough for Jungkook pressing a kiss against your thigh as he thinks of what the following night will bring, his mind also picturing just how cute your hands would look around his neck. 

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[yeojaa]

( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.

(or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing.  tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  slice of life fluff, light smut.  explicit (but only at the end). 

tags / warnings.  mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc.  7.6k.

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​, @papillonsgf​, and @yeoldontknow​​ 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note.  i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this.  it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless.  as always, feedback means a lot! 

You and forethought aren’t close friends.  You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree.  You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is.  Careful consideration?  Thoughtful patience?  None of that exists for you.  At least, not when you really, really want something. 

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.  

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this.  Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid.  By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.  

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment.  Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to.  When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed.  (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right? 

“Everyone’s fully booked.”  The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial.  (You don’t blame her.)  By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal.  You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue.  “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice?  Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable.  Well-known.  Considered one of the best in the city.  Surely their apprentice would be fine.  Just less seasoned, not as experienced. 

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter.  “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall.  “Last room on the left.  His name’s Jungkook.  His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.”  It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves.  Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told. 

“Jungkook?”  There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight.  (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.)  It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else. 

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting:  one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits.  Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine.  A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall;  one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it.  There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath.  All in all, very homey.  Reminiscent of your own apartment.) 

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space.  “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples. 

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for.  Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.  

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe.  It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin.  “Are you okay?”  He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way.  Good for him, but worse for you. 

He’s so cute.  Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.”  You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete.  “Um— I was told you might have some time?  For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering?  You’re never shy.  Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess.  People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!”  Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder.  He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway.  “Yeah, I’ve got time.  Come in.”  Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek;  the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip;  each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks.  “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no.  You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook?  He was that.  In spades. 

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”  He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table.  It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display.  “I’ve got a pretty big selection.” 

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him.  This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation. 

“So—”  He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen.  You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt.  It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion;  it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles.  He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling.  The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity.  “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.”  It really is.  You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink.  “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question.  Of course it did.  It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally.  “Like crazy, but it was worth it.  This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—”  He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.  

“A piece of cake?”  You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you.  (It doesn’t.  You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap.  “Do any of these interest you?”  He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash.  There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf).  They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.”  It catches your eye more than the others have.  Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines.  A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do.  “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.”  He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled;  you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion.  A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen.  “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy.  Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no.  You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.  

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though.  You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it.  You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life.  There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,”  you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.  

“Do you have your ID?”  You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form.  “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come. 

Alone, the nerves set in.  You’re actually doing this.  Getting a tattoo.  Putting something permanent on your body.  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap.  Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come.  (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.) 

(But had you really made up your mind?  Was this going to be it?  It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise.  It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!”  Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope.  You eye it curiously.  “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”  

He’s really thought of everything.  Or the shop has.  Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?”  It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand.  (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.) 

You hadn’t thought about that.  You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away.  “My arm?”

“Upper?  Forearm?”  There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative.  He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you. 

“Tricep area, I think?  Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.”  Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same.  “I’m kidding.  That was cheesy.  But I’m sure it’ll look fine.  We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?” 

“That sounds good.”  A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement. 

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake:  wearing a turtleneck.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like.  Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon?  Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)? 

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule.  Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside.  Whatever you’d prefer.” 

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill.  You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.  

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way?  He was probably desensitized.)  

“It’s fine.”  You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly.  Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though.  Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater.  It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath.  Two. 

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him.  “All right.  Let’s do this.” 

“So, which arm?”  He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.  

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello. 

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers.  You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.”  It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror.  “It’s so pretty.” 

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face.  “Thanks.”  He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful.  “What do you think?”

“This is it.  Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool.  As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee. 

“All right.  We’ll shave you down and get started.  You like the colours, right?”  Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart.  It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes.  (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.)  He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him.  “Hop on up.  Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace.  It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.  

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?”  You’d misheard that, right? 

“Your skin.  You’re sparkling.”  He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.  

“Oh.”  Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly.  “It’s my soap.” 

“Sparkle soap?”  Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure.  He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before.  (Which, fair.) 

“It’s this specialty holiday soap.  It has pigment in it.” 

“That’s cool.”  He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm.  “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree.  It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does.  Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot.  “Thanks.” 

“Was that weird?  I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.” 

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.  

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle.  “Ready?” 

Honestly, you’re not sure.  Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog.  Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue.  “I think so.” 

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee. 

“All right—”“  The incessant buzzing stops.  Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel.  “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you.  Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.) 

“Can I see?”  You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face. 

“Yeah, go ahead.  Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right.  You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet.  It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you. 

“Careful!”  It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.  

“Sorry, sorry.”  You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede.  Everything straightens out quickly enough.  “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?”  He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall.  “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art.  “I’m fine.”  That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.”  The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open.  Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words,  “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention.  It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours.  It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.  

“You like?”  

“I love.”  You’d stare at it for hours, if you could.  Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie.  “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head.  Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose.  Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into.  “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one.  It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink.  (You half expect him not to answer;  you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.) 

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.  

“So, what’re you thinking?”  

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking.  Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history.  You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece.  “A sleeve?”

That surprises him.  His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously.  “Like, a full sleeve?”  It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable.  “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high.  “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,”  he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea.  “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.”  He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up.  For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing.  (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.)  “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan.  It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there.  He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.  

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”  

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions.  It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin.  A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep.  Another takes up the entirety of your forearm.  There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi.  It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.  

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch.  You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.”  Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap.  “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers.  Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat.  He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up.  Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.  

“You mean we did it,”  you return, giddy like a child.  

“Ah, right.”  The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled.  “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey!  Screw you!”  You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.  

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more.  It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head.  Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow.  You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm.  That in itself had hurt like a biiitch;  you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?”  He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to.  It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.  

“Yes, you are.”  You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares.  This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together.  (Not that you’d complain.  You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful.  “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.  

“Wouldn’t I?  I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”  

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed?  You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation.  Had he mentioned it previously?  Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain?  No, you would’ve remembered that.  You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.”  How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea.  You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway.  Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago.  (God, your memory is good.  If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.)  “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.  

“Gonna miss me?”  

Would it be inappropriate to say yes?  Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question.  You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).  

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own.  “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,”  he answers, offering honesty to your reticence.  “You can still send me funny photos though.”  

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile.  “I guess you’re right.  Will you still be tattooing?”  It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know.  You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.”  Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin.  “Actually, where I got most of mine done.”  You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith.  He’s finally come full circle.  You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.  

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to.  It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.  “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,”  he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair.  It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn.  “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,”  you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder.  You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go.  It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk.  “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”  

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you.  It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available.  (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.)  “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black.  You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.  

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?”  He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to.  (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?)  “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended.  “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”  

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you.  “Hey, I don’t judge.  You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there.  Used your own impulsive history against you.  “I would never.”  

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what?  Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him.  “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth.  There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up.  You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”  

“Really?”  You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face.  “Then why don’t you have one?”  He has a million others as it is:  a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs.  (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)  

“And hide all this?”  One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home.  “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual.  “But I’m cuter.  It’d be a shame if it were me.  You…”  The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean.  (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.)  “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”  

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him. 

“I’m kidding.”  You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries.  A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke.  “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them?  Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was.  Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met.  It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?”  The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.  

Were you?  You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really?  You can’t?”  You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it.  But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously.  It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears.  “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”  

Had he?  Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall.  Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of;  accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff).  Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought.  You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,”  you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.  

“I think you’re cute,”  he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff.  The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week.  The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb.  (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer.  “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.”  Where the confidence comes from, who knows.  You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering.  It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits. 

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go. 

Then he does the last thing you expect:  shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.  

(His lips are so soft.  A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate.  Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him.  French fries and beer and his Chapstick.) 

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.) 

“You just kissed me.”  It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.  

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.”  Speaking the words into existence feels bad;  you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.  

“I am.”  At least he’s realistic.  It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay. 

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose. 

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.  

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next.  (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass.  Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers.  An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,”  the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials.  You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation. 

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof.  The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin.  You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous.  It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left. 

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed.  He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders.  You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,”  he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity.  It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,”  you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped.  You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was.  As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though.  You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow.  He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?”  You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder.  Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again.  (You’re proud of that.  It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”  

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine.  You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness.  Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad.  Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around.  It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper.  He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror.  “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals.  Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care.  Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre.  You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life.  It means so much - like progressing to the next level.  

Which, you suppose it is.  This is a fresh start for you.  A new beginning in a new city.  

“Proud of you,”  he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips.  He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.  

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago.  A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,”  you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.  

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual.  “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that.  You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome.  From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.  

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this:  a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had;  to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.  

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that.  Made it worth it in ways you had never considered.  Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?”  He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself.  It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.  

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.”  The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?”  You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets.  It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that.  He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.  

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised.  “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?”  Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job? 

(It truthfully could be.  You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.”  All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine.  “You don’t like when I admire my own work?”  Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit.  The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need.  (Because you really do need it.  You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.)  It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once. 

“Kook,”  you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.”  He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin.  They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas.  A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care.  Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits.  When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”  

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt.  “I’ve missed this,”  he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.  

“Missed you too,”  you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.  

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​​​ @codeinebelle​ @xjoonchildx​

[starshapedkookie]

Falling

↳soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest  level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm. 

REPOSTED/REWRITTEN FROM OLD BLOG

pairing: jungkook x female reader 

word count: 31.4k (sorry guys, another monster lol)

genre: soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: smut (protected sex, vanilla, light choking), swearing, angst!!!, fluff (jungkook is head over heels), drinking, mentions of anti-depressants and therapy

recommended songs: falling by harry styles, love again by dua lipa, hold on by chord overstreet, dusk till dawn by zayn & sia, when we were young by lost kings

FALL

The last thing you needed this morning was for your coffee to get knocked out of your hand and crash onto the pavement—but of course, that is exactly what happened.

“Ugh,” you groan loudly, bending down to pick up the plastic cup. You did not have time for this. It wasn’t even your first day of classes yet here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You quickly dispose of the plastic in a recyclable can before hurrying off to find your class. You were already going to be late—but you knew you didn’t want to be that kid on the first day coming in hungover and 20 minutes late. So far though, that was going to be exactly you.

You rush into the building of your class before rushing up the stairs to the main auditorium. You glance down at your watch and you roll eyes. 7 minutes late—that’s doable right? You enter the large room and you curse to yourself when it’s quiet and the only words are coming from your professors mouth.

“Class I believe we’ve found our first day straggler,” the professor’s voice erupts in the room through his microphone and you freeze in your spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and you actually want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. Laughter fills the room and the professor goes back to the syllabus as you find a seat towards the back of the classroom. You sit down by yourself and lean back in the seat. Not only was your head absolutely busting from last night, you also had never felt more embarrassment in your entire life. You pull out your laptop and pull up the uploaded syllabus and try to hide yourself within your t-shirt.

“As humans, we think attraction is spontaneous and comes from here,” your professor pauses and points to his chest where his heart would be, “When in fact, that’s not true. Our brains run complex calculations that decide whom we think is attractive. This is what this course is about. The psychology behind gender, sex, and even the ideals of soulmates are all very much correlated in this course,” your ears drown out his talking once the ’S’ word is mentioned—no, not sex, but soulmate.

Soulmates—self explanatory but usually not discussed out in the open like this. Some people believed in them, others didn’t. Growing up, you had always heard about soulmates and their stories—your parents managing to bring it up at least once a week. It’s said that one will receive a name by 18. At 13, you and your older sister decided that it was all bogus as you had many crushes on boys growing up. You could like someone but that didn’t mean you were soulmates though. Your sister quickly flipped her stance about soulmates when she was 17, you 15, and suddenly a mark showed up on the inside of her finger. Not just any mark—but a name. With the name engraved in her skin like a tattoo and only a few months after that, she had met her match.

You on the other hand remained nameless for the rest of high school. You waited and waited for a name to show up by the age of 18—but it never did. You felt alone and like a glitch. At 19, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a soulmate. Besides, you were young—since when did you have to find your life partner so soon?

Now at 21, nearing 22, you were still nameless. Did it bother you? You were indifferent. You felt lucky to be able to experience college without being tied down to something serious but now as graduation was coming faster than ever and it seemed like everyone around you was finding their other half—worry did sink into your skin sometimes.

“You,” someone snaps you from your reverie and you think the professor has called you again until you see a two guys sitting two rows back from you, one of them pointing at you.

You point at yourself wondering if he’s got the right girl. As you look around the class, everyone is shuffling around to what seems to be small groups. Had you zoned out that bad? You look back at the two guys and gather your belongings before heading their way.

“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly as you shuffle towards them.

“Told you she’d come,” one guys nudges the other one with a smirk, “Wanna be in our group?”

“Group?” You look back to the front of the classroom and see a slide displayed “FINAL PROJECT” shining bright. “Yeah, sure whatever,” you sit down beside of the chatty male before he finally introduces himself.

“I’m Namjoon,” he smiles.

“Y/N,” you reply looking at the other guy who has stayed silent this whole interaction.

“This is Jungkook,” Namjoon says and Jungkook looks at you offering a weak smile.

“Hey,” he says simply. Jungkook has pretty eyes, round and doe-like, innocent yet inviting. You catch yourself noticing the ink lining his forearms and knuckles.

You take a seat beside of Namjoon and focus your attention back to the board. Your professor explains each group has a variety of topics to choose from and present to him later at the end of the semester. As much as you weren’t in the mood for much talking, you were thankful this Namjoon and Jungkook guy asked you to be in their group because you’re not sure you would have had the courage to ask anyone else.

Lecture ends with an online syllabus quiz due at the end of the week and you quickly gather your things to leave.

“Um,” you start before you get ready to leave, “here's my number. Just text whenever you want to get started,” you slip the piece of paper to Namjoon. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and something stirs deep within your stomach. Namjoon’s voice breaks your gaze.

“Alright, sounds good. Nice to me you.”

“You guys too.” And then you’re off to your next class, hoping you won’t cause as much attention in that one.

.

“Jesus Christ,” you exhale deeply, lying down on Taehyung’s bed. He eyes you from his desk.

“Rough first day?” He inquires, swirling back and forth in his chair.

“You have no idea Tae,” you groan rolling over to look at him. “I should have known this day would be shit the second I slept through my alarm.”

He gives you a small smile, “At least it’s over now. You got much homework?”

You shake your head, “No thank god.”

“Do you want to grab dinner with Jimin and I then?”

Your stomach growls loudly at the idea of food. You don’t even say anything and you don’t need to. Taehyung gives you a laugh before slipping on his ridiculously ugly fur-lined Gucci mules. You stand up from his bed, straightening out your giant t-shirt and running shorts. Yours and Taehyung’s fashion clashed tremendously, but that’s what made you guys—well you.

You and Taehyung meet Jimin at a Thai place downtown. It’s cheap and delicious and a bowl of pad-thai to sooth your brain after today sounded heavenly. Jimin is standing outside, wearing a put together yet sporty outfit. He smiles when he sees the two of you approaching.

“Hey guys!” Jimin smiles widely, leaning over to give you a tight squeeze. He pulls away and gives Taehyung an even bigger hug, the two of them pecking each other on the lips quickly. You watch the two soulmates in awe. As much as you wanted to believe the soulmate thing was bullshit—these two were living proof that it works. And deep down, it hurts.

The three of you order your food and lean back into your chair across from the two lovers as they converse about their day.

“What about you Y/N? Did you have a good first day?” Jimin asks. He’s got to the be the most considerate person you’ve ever met.

“Are you sure you want to hear her spiel?” Taehyung mutters sarcastically and you poke your tongue out at him.

“It was horrible Jimin,” you pout, “First, I slept through my alarm which I never do, was hungover as sit so I needed some coffee and then I got my iced coffee that was five dollars and then dropped it everywhere—“

“Wait, you were running late and still got coffee?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” You say in a duh-like tone. Jimin and Taehyung laugh at your before you continue.

“Then I walked into my first class and the fucking professor had the audacity to call me the first day straggler! How awful is that?!”

“I mean it’s true,” Taehyung grins and you flip him off.

“Not. The. Point,” you offer dramatically, “And then all of a sudden these two guys are calling me over to be in their group for a project and they’re both extremely cute although one talked way too much and one didn’t talk at all—“ “Which one was cuter?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung swats at his arm.

“The quiet one,” you admit, “At least to me. And then after that, I went to my last class and that went smoothly. However it started going downhill again when I went and grabbed lunch and I got a salad from East—“ “Oh no,” Jimin groans, “East dining hall? Y/N you know that place is whack.”

“I know that but I was hungry! And then I ate my salad and then while I was driving back to my apartment I literally almost shit myself.”

The three of you begin to laugh at how ridiculous your day actually was.

“I mean what kind of fucking luck is that?!”

“You’ve definitely had better days for sure…” Taehyung says eying you from across the table, “I mean look at that outfit and hair,” he tsks.

“Hey! Fuck you,” you pick up your straw wrapper and throw it at him across from you. He’s laughing just as your food arrives. It looks and even smells better, the three of you immediately digging in.

The three of you continue small chatter amongst yourselves, Jimin and Taehyunf being too cute and in love for their own good. You are in the middle of slurping your noodles when your nearly choke on your food when a new, but familiar face walks into the restaurant. The Jungkook guy from your class. And he’s not alone as a girl who is extremely pretty trails in behind of him.

“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks and he turns over his shoulder to follow your line of sight. “Who is that cutie?” He then says. Jimin agrees.

“It’s the guy from my class,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t spot you. “The quiet one,” you specify. Jimin smirks before nudging Taehyung.

“You’re right,” Taehyung says looking back at you. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about Jungkook but his name, you dislike the way the random girl is looking at him. It doesn’t settle well in your stomach.

“Guess he has a soulmate,” you say slightly disappointed staring into your food.

Jimin speaks up, “No he doesn’t.”

You and Taehyung furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Are you guys forgetting soulmates is literally what I’m doing my thesis on? I can spot them when I see them,” he says keeping his voice low, “That’s not his soulmate, trust me.”

“…Right,” you hesitate. You glance back towards Jungkook and his date to find that they have been seated elsewhere in the restaurant. You bite your lip, stirring your noodles around, the weird feeling you felt when you first spotted Jungkook still deep rooted in your stomach. You don’t mention Jungkook again the entire night, only sparing glances around the restaurant to get another look at him. You come up short.

.

Your first week back at school is nearly over as Friday approaches faster than ever. Thankfully, unlike your first day shambles, the rest of your week went fairly smooth. You’ve managed to get ahead in most of your classes already and you can’t wait for the afternoon nap you’re gifting yourself later today.

Ever since Monday, you have decided to sit beside Namjoon and Jungkook in your psychology lecture now. They were easy to talk to, albeit Jungkook still quite shy, but being with your final project group was convenient. Speaking of Jungkook—he was no where to be seen today.

“Where’s your friend?” You inquire as you sit beside Namjoon. Normally Jungkook is right beside of him as the two of them always get to class earlier than you.

Namjoon shrugs, “I don’t know, he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning.”

You brush it off as your jackass of a professor begins his lecture. Your first official lecture of the semester is on the basis of the human brain and it’s connection to relationships. You nearly roll your eyes out of your head, how fun. Ten or so minutes go back of you typing up notes trying to keep up with him until rummaging disrupts your thoughts.

You glance to your left and spot Jungkook coming in late, his hair underneath a baseball cap, keeping his eyes down as he makes his way over to you and Namjoon. You inwardly wish the professor would call him out on his tardiness but of course, that doesn’t happen. Maybe your professor is a jackass and a sexist?

“Look who is late today,” You whisper as he sits down beside you. His brown eyes give you a glance before nodding to Namjoon.

“Sorry,” he gives you a soft smile, “Today has not been my day,” he briefly explains.

You raise your eyebrows as him, but decide against questioning him.

“I get it,” you respond.

“Hey! You in back,” your professor is suddenly stopping his lecture and pointing his finger towards you. Oh for fucks sake. “If you’re going to talk in my class, don’t bothering coming as I post the lecture slides online afterwards.”

You feel embarrassment taking over your body as Namjoon to your right is snickering at you and Jungkook on your left is sending you an apologetic stare.

Definitely sexist.

.

The next couple weeks of classes went by in a flash. So far, they were all going well and you liked all your professors—minus Mr. Sexist Jackass for psychology—but other than that, you were having no trouble. You had been able to meet other people and get into study group chats which you knew would help in the next few weeks as your first midterm was quickly approaching.

If there was one thing you were slacking on though, it was your group project for said psychology class. Which is why you texted Namjoon and Jungkook to meet at a coffee place on campus to discuss getting started and what roles you all would take.

“Hey,” Jungkook is the first to arrive and you give him a sweet smile. Within the past two weeks, he had become more open to talking to you and you sensed a blossoming friendship between you and him.

“Hi, how are you?” You ask him as you move your stuff out of the way so he could sit down. He sits across from you, his eyes meeting yours.

“I’m alright,” he says with not much energy taking a gulp from whatever drink he was sipping on. It looked to be an iced americano. “You?”

“Pretty good, although I’m already stressed about exams coming up,” you let your worries slip from you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I haven’t thought about exams yet,” he says honestly.

You give him a hard stare before saying, “What even is your major? I know Namjoon is pre-med but I don’t think you’ve told me.”

He swallows the rest of his drink, “Sports medicine,” he responds with a straight smile.

“Hm,” you say, “So do you dress up as Sporty Spice for Halloween then?”

He lets out a laugh before nodding, “Yeah, every year.”

You laugh with him and you can’t help but notice how great his smile is. He really is attractive, you can’t deny that.

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” You groan after your laughter dies out, looking down at your watch.

“Here!” You jump in your seat as Namjoon comes up behind you and you nearly fall out of your seat. Namjoon apologizes quickly about being late before scooting to sit beside you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “So, when do you guys want to start working on our project? I would hate for us to procrastinate and have to cram at the end of the semester.”

Namjoon nods, “I was thinking the same. We need to choose a topic first though… got any ideas?” He takes out a pen and notepad to scribble stuff down. You could tell Namjoon was just as studious as you were… Jungkook on the other hand was definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of student—not necessarily a bad thing though.

“Kook, any ideas?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook shrugs before throwing out there—

“Sex,” He says and you snicker at his suggestion. “What? That’s all the professor talks about, might as well give him something he’s interested in…” Jungkook retaliates.

You glance at Namjoon and he rolls his eyes.

“I get what you’re saying Kook but I think we should be more specific than that,” Namjoon deadpans and you nod agreeing with him. “Y/N?”

“Mmmm,” you hum, “Maybe we could do research on how sex differs between different people?”

Namjoon nods slowly, looking over at Jungkook quickly, “What if looked at how sex affects the body when it comes to soulmates?”

You throat goes dry at Namjoon’s suggestion and you have to compose yourself so you won’t give yourself away. You look over at Jungkook who looks just as uncomfortable as you do and it makes you furrow your eyebrows. Maybe Jimin’s sixth sense was right?

“I mean is there even research for that?” You look at him, your question somewhat patronizing.

“Oh yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “There’s lots of research on how the body responds when people are intimate with people that aren’t their soulmates.”

You glance at Jungkook again whose eyes are dancing around the room and you’re not even sure he’s tuned into the conversation anymore.

“What do you think Jungkook?” You ask him.

“Sure,” he says, “Whatever will get us the grade.”

“Alright then, let’s meet up again next week after we each do some research,” Namjoon smiles before gathering his things up, “I hate to bounce like this but my tutoring shift starts in ten minutes and those freshman are so gullible I can make twice as much money off of them,” he says before waving you two off, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

“Does he really scam freshman?” You ask, somewhat horrified at his statement. Jungkook lets out a laugh, visibly a lot more comfortable now that the previous conversation has passed.

“Only when then they’re dumb enough,” he responds before he begins to gather his things too, “See in you class?”

You nod once, noticing what seems to be a silver Rolex covering his left wrist. Who the hell has a Rolex in college?

“See you in class.”

. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in?” Jimin smiles at you from behind the bar. Yeah—not only was Jimin currently getting his master’s in psychology, he also bartended on the weekends at one of your local bars.

You give him a smile as Taehyung isn’t far behind you, putting his head on your shoulder to look up at the menu.

“Hi babe,” Jimin smiles and Taehyung returns one, wrapping his arms around your front.

“Hi,” he smiles, visibly much more drunk than you were. “I’m pretending she’s you so don’t get jealous okay?” He slurs.

“Hey!” You fight back looking at Taehyung, “Crazy how people change after you ‘fall in love’,” you air quote yourself with sarcasm.

Taehyung laughs in your ear, “You should try it sometime babe,” under normal circumstances, you would have felt very offended at his remark because he knows your situation but with alcohol running through your veins—you let it slide.

“Can I have two green tea shots?” You ask Jimin and he nods quickly.

“Make it four,” Taehyung orders and Jimin laughs before nodding, heading off to make your shots.

Taehyung finally lets go of your middle and you both settle to lean on the bar whilst your drinks are being made.

“How was your week babe?” Taehyung asks, “Better I presume? You look hot so I’m assuming all is well?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

You gives him a smile, glancing down at your outfit. Your mini-wrap skirt and skin tight tank top was as basic as it could get, but it made you look and feel good about yourself.

“Good as it gets Tae,” you say flinging your hair behind your shoulder. On a scale 1 to 10 of drunkeness, you were probably a good 5 but you knew once Jimin was finished with your shots, you would be closer to a 7 or 8.

“I know I’m going to sound fucking crazy right now but it’s kind of just registering what I said to you about falling in love and I did not mean it like that—“ “Taehyung it’s fine,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No,” he shakes his head, “It’s not… I’m sorry I’m just really drunk right now,” he groans almost painfully.

“I know,” you smile at him before noticing Jimin has come back with your shots. “And you’re about to be even more drunk so whatever you say, apologize for it now.”

He looks up at the ceiling closing his eyes, “I’m sorry to whoever for the dumb shit I will say the rest of the evening, amen.”

“He’s religious now?” Jimin asks scooting the glasses over to you two.

“Apparently,” you eye him before taking a glass for you and handing one to Taehyung.

“To… senior year!” Taehyung says loudly over the music and you nod, clinking your glasses together.

“To senior year!” You say before downing the shot in its entirety. “Oh my god Jimin,” you groan, “I will never forgive you for getting me on these.”

“What can I say? If you’re gonna drink might as well enjoy it,” is the last thing he says before checking on another customer beside you and Taehyung.

“Oh god,” Taehyung says after downing his shot, looking over your shoulder.

“What?” You ask him, getting ready to down your second one.

“It’s the quiet one, the cute one,” Taehyung’s words confuse you until you begin to piece them together. Quiet… cute… Jungkook.

You take a glance over your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Jungkook looking right back at you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you do the same. He looks really good—blue jeans a t-shirt with his lovely ink being show. What intrigues you the most though is a 35mm camera hanging around his neck. You don’t recognize any of the people he is with before you turn back around, feeling your cheeks heat up even though no one could see it.

“Jungkook,” you say to Taehyung, “That’s his name.”

As much as you wished Taehyung would stop staring in his direction, you knew he was drunk and fighting him on it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Well, I think Jungkook,” Taehyung grabs his second shot, “Is hot as fuck and you should totally make a move,” Taehyung finally looks back at you and downs his liquor without waiting on you. You follow suit, the shot slivering down your throat.

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think he’s into me, plus I don’t even know if he has a partner or not.”

“You heard what Jimin said a couple weeks ago,” he retorts.

“How does Jimin know he’s right? I mean it’s not like we as humans have a fucking ‘yeah I have a soulmate’ scent to us like were goddamn dogs or something. I mean as much as I would totally make a move on him, I just don’t think I can do—“

“Uh, Y/N,” Taehyung nudges you from your rant.

“What?” You return harshly. A small smirk rises on his face before he points beside of you. You look to your left and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook coming up behind of you.

“J-Jungkook,” you manage to get out, “Hi.”

He approaches you and Taehyung with a warm smile, “Hey Y/N.” His eyes move to Taehyung and you clear your throat to introduce them.

“Jungkook this is Taehyung, Taehyung… Jungkook,” you smile between the two handsome men.

“Nice you to meet you,” Taehyung smiles widely and Jungkook nods.

“What are you doing out tonight?” You ask Jungkook and he steps closer to you as someone pushes past him.

“Trying to relieve some stress,” he answers with a laugh, “Can I get you a drink?” He scratches the back of his head, glancing over at Taehyung again.

“Oh, are you sure?” You ask him before he nods again. You give him a smile, “Alright, whatever you’re having I’ll have.”

“Jimin!” You yell over the music to get his attention. He stops drying a glass and immediately comes to you, his eyes falling on the companion behind of you.

“Can I get two Michelob's?” Jungkook says and you can feel his chest pressing into your back as the overwhelming amount of people pushing and pulling in the bar.

Jimin nods before quickly going into the cooler, popping the tops from the bottle and sliding them over to you.

“Thanks,” you both say grabbing them.

“Thank you,” you turn around to Jungkook and in this position, you underestimated how close you actually are to him. Chest to chest and his head towers over as he looks down at you with a smile.

“No problem,” he says, “Do you wanna go outside? Get some air and more space?”

It’s like he read your mind. “Yeah, sure.”

You tap Taehyung on the shoulder to get his attention from Jimin.

“I’m going outside, I’ll text you if I can’t find you again.”

He nods slowly, “I’ll be right here babe,” he sends you a wink before turning back around.

Jungkook’s eyes lay on Taehyung’s back a little longer than you would like. What’s he thinking right now? Without any warning, Jungkook grabs your hand gently and starts pulling you away from the crowded bar. You aren’t exactly sober right now and you can only hope that your hand isn’t sweating as much as you think it is. Jungkook leads you out to the deck that’s also crowded and loud, but leaves a lot more room to breathe.

You lean against the railing and Jungkook does the same across from you, just mere inches separating the two of you.

“Are you here with just Taehyung?” He asks you taking a sip of his beer. You follow suit. Thank god he ordered Michelob—a man with taste.

You nod, “Yeah… he wanted to go out more than I did but, here we are,” you try to make a joke at your drunkeness but fail miserably. Jungkook gives you a short lived smile.

“So… are you two like, together?” Jungkook says his words slowly, not wanting to say or imply the wrong thing. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head after he asks his question.

You start to laugh, having to cover your mouth so you don’t cackle loud enough to draw attention. Jungkook looks confused before you say—

“Taehyung’s gay,” you explain after your laughter dies down, “His partner is the bartender Jimin.”

Jungkook’s face falls and his doe eyes bulge out of his head. “Holy shit I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—“

“Jungkook it’s fine,” you wave him off, “You’re not the first person to ever ask if Tae and I are a thing. As much as I wish the universe was that nice to me to give me a man like Taehyung but no,” you smile although deep down it does hurt. You grew up with Taehyung hoping he would be your soulmate and when Jimin’s name appeared on the inside of his pinky, that dream bursted real fast.

“What about you?” You ask him. Now’s your chance. It’s got to be the alcohol that’s making this conversation easy as cake because normally, talk of this nature would not be spoken in public with this many people around.

Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. He starts to shake his head, “No I just got out of a relationship.”

“Oh,” your face falls. So was he with a girlfriend at dinner a few weeks back?

“Yeah I guess the universe hates me too,” he says nonchalantly and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. So he didn’t have a soulmate? Nor did you? What were the odds?

“I hate to sound weird or creepy but,” you pause, unsure if you wanted to ask but internally you say fuck it. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the Thai place downtown with a girl, so that’s why I asked.”

Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read as he gulps his beer. You’re not sure he’s that drunk but if he is, he’s great at hiding it.

“Yeah… that was her,” he nods, “But like I said the universe is cruel and decide to give her a name after a couple months of dating,” he scoffs and almost seems angry—which I guess he has a right to be.

“Oh shit,” you mumble, “I’m sorry,” you offer.

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, what can I do about it now you know?”

You nod slowly, “Look forward to the future? Who knows what might happen.”

“You’re right,” he smiles tenderly, “To the future?” He raises his bottle.

“To the future,” you smile clinking the glass together.

“So who are you here with?” You ask him.

“Just my roommates, Yugyeom and Mingyu,” he explains while licking his lips and your heart skips a beat again.

“You don’t strike me as the type that gets out much you know,” you push a finger into his chest, narrowing your eyesight. 1 to 10 on the drunk scale? An 8 or 9 at the moment.

“Why’s that?” He amuses.

“Jeon, you barely spoke to me the first two weeks of class. I thought you were fucking mute.”

He suddenly steps closer to you and it forces you to drop your finger.

“I’m shy okay?” He says with a pout. “I’m good now though? Right?” You swear his eyes are like a damn puppy dog looking at you like that. Your throat goes dry before you nod.

“For the most part I guess,” you offer weakly batting your eyelashes at him. You glance down his body quickly and notice the way his light blue jeans hug his tiny waist and thick thighs deliciously. Jesus fucking Christ.

“What this all about?” you point to his camera that’s dangling between his pecs. You needed to get your mind back to PG and fast.

He smiles lightly, “My hobby,” he says simply, “I like to take pictures for memories sake.”

“Memories sake,” you repeat, “So do you take it with you everywhere then?”

“Only if I think something interesting might happen that needs to be captured,” he shrugs. God he was so attractive and the longer you stared at him, the faster you were falling down a hole.

“What have you captured tonight then?”

“Nothing much really,” he glances down your front quickly and he thinks you don’t notice until you smirk at him.

“Take a picture of me,” you tilt your head with a smile, “I’m a treasure that should be captured, don’t ya think?” the alcohol was getting to you bad. When Jungkook laughs at you, you swear you saw two faces and you knew you needed to sober the fuck up.

“Alright, fine,” he says, stepping away from you to adjust his lens for the lighting. You lean onto the railing with you elbow, giving him a smile when you look towards his camera. He snaps the picture twice and the flash momentarily blinds you. He looks back at his view finder and you step to him to see it.

“See, a treasure,” you say.

He nods slowly before looking down at you, “Definitely.”

You feel yourself stepping closer to him, leaning up to get a full view of his face. You bite your lip as he leans down, your noses brushing together before you step back.

“Wait… so you don’t have a soulmate?” You keep your voice low and hesitant.

He shakes his head, “No,” he says, “See.” He shows his wrists and in between his fingers and nothing. You do the same for him, moving your bracelets and watch back. He gives you a small smirk before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. You inhale his clean scent as you push up on your toes to deepen the kiss. With your hand that isn’t occupied you bring it to the side of his face to caress his skin. His lips are so fucking soft and you whine as he pulls away.

“I would ask you to go home with me but I think you’re too drunk,” he says honestly and you furrow your eyebrows at him with a sad pout.

“Hey I’m fine,” you defend yourself.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says, “I’m pretty far from that.”

His words are sweet and considerate and you’re not sure any guy you have met that would be in this position to not jump straight into your pants. As much as you wouldn’t mind Jungkook to do that—you could see where he was coming from. Besides, you were really drunk and really tired so you probably wouldn’t even get off which would defeat the purpose of getting laid.

“Jungkook I know, I can see that,” you tell him before you bite your lip again, “But I am a great cuddlier if that has any weight?”

A large smile falls on his lips and his nose scrunches up from giggling. “Alright, you’re the big spoon though,” he deadpans.

You roll your eyes, “We’ll see about that.” Jungkook smirks before grabbing your hand for both of you to close out your tabs and head to his place.

.

You wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar, but quite comfortable bed. You blink your eyes slowly to let light in and you stretch your feet our from your fetal position. Once your vision focuses you see that you’re alone underneath a grey duvet and you nearly freak out until you quickly remember your previous evening.

You had got to Jungkook’s place around 12:30 AM and aside from light making out, nothing extreme happened between you two as Jungkook insisted on being sober before going there. He obviously lost the argument about who was going to be the big and little spoon as you both fell asleep comfortably with his arms around your front. Speaking of—where was he?

You push the covers from your body and see you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt, your clothes neatly folded on his dresser. You memory is slightly fuzzy, unsure if you changed your clothes yourself or if Jungkook dressed you. Heat rushes to you face at the thought. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t seemed desperate but when you were drunk—that tended to happen. Although not as much anymore as random hookups slowed down the older you got as most people were linking up with their destined lovers.

Fuck—you think, you had nearly forgotten perhaps the biggest detail of last night. Jungkook didn’t have a soulmate. The thought made you giddy on the inside. Maybe he was just as fucked up as you were.

You’re about to leave Jungkook’s room until he suddenly appears in the doorway.

“Oh, hey I was just coming to see if you were up,” he gives you a soft smile and you have to scramble your eyes away from his heavily built chest and torso. You find that he has tattoos all the way up his knuckles to his shoulder. Fuck.

“I just woke up,” you mumble stepping towards the door.

“I made some breakfast,” he says reaching towards your hand gently, “I have some medicine too if you’re hungover.”

You smile at him as he pulls you to him to walk you down the short hallway to his kitchen. It smelt of bacon, eggs, and toast—just what you needed.

“Thanks,” you say gratefully as you take a seat on one of his barstools. He slides a plate over to you as well as a bottle of Advil. “You already ate?” You ask him as you begin to dive into the food that will surely settle your rumbling stomach.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “I woke up awhile ago and went for a run so I had to eat.”

You swat your hand not caring, “It’s fine—wait, what time is it?” Your eyes bulge.

He looks at his silver watch, “Almost noon,” he says, his eyes not looking at tired as he probably is.

“Noon?!” You say with a mouthful of bread, “What the hell I never this sleep this late…” you say after swallowing.

“You drank a lot last night Y/N,” he laughs at you and you give him your middle finger. He rests on his hands across from you in the kitchen and you can’t help but notice the veins in his arms. Was the universe really being this good to you? After all this time, giving you access to someone who is this fine and who doesn’t have a partner? You almost couldn’t believe it.

“Sorry if I was annoying, or needy, or anything like that,” you say somewhat embarrassed that Jungkook had to deal with you even though neither of you know each other that well.

His eyes soften, “It’s fine. You were funny.”  

You’ve devoured your plate of food and you hop down from the barstool to clean your plate. Since he cooked, the least you could was put away your mess.

“Oh I’m hilarious,” you give him a snide look before you bump him with your hip to scoot him over so you can wash your plate. He obliges whilst watching your every move. Jungkook seeing you in one of his favorite t-shirts is driving him delirious.

“But seriously though,” your voice cuts his inappropriate train of thought, “If I said anything incriminating, don’t tell anyone,” you give him a side look as you dry your plate. Jungkook laughs before a smirk appears on his face.

“I quite enjoyed your rambling,” he steps closer to you as you turn to look up at him. “It was very… what’s the word… suggestive,” he looks off as if he’s running deep thoughts.

You roll your eyes—yup, definitely horny and needy words were said. Feeling somewhat brave—maybe it was because you weren’t really hungover and the fact that Jungkook is standing there like that in front of you—you step towards him so your chests are touching.

“Maybe you should remind me what I said one day then?” You whisper only so he can hear. He chuckles through his nose before placing one of his hands on your back to pull you flush against him.

“Why not right now?” He says, his nose dipping to touch yours. His eyes are soft but carry a darkness to them you can’t quite read. You give him a small nod before you move your head to place your lips on his. Your mouths mold together like putty slowly before he slips his tongue into your mouth to tease you.  

You pull away quickly, “Wait, don’t you have roommates?” You whisper again looking around the quiet apartment. You noticed how clean it was to be housed by 3 men in their early twenties.

“They’re asleep,” he says, caressing your lower back, his hand begging to go to your ass but he restrains himself. “So you’ll have to be quiet, unlike last night,” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Challenge accepted,” you grab his face to pull him back down to you to connect your lips once more.

His hands grapple your waist desperately to pull you flush against him. He smells like laundry and cotton, the scent driving you mad. As Jungkook realizes that the two of you are still in his kitchen and Yugyeom or Mingyu could easily come out of their rooms any moment, he pulls away from you and you follow him back into his room. He wastes no time shutting his door and pushing you against it.

You felt yourself growing dizzier by the second as he continued to kiss you with a gentle force that you’ve never experienced before. He was probably the best kisser you’ve ever kissed.  You could tell he wanted to touch you and you wanted him to touch you so you began to trace your hands up his sculpted back and pushing your hips out towards him.

Jungkook now having your permission, one of his hands trail up your thigh to push his t-shirt away from your backside, his large hand massaging the skin carefully and calculated. Suddenly you found his lips on your neck as he pushes your body further into his door.

“Jungkook,” you groaned quietly as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He pulls your thigh up against his leg and you nearly let out a moan when you feel his hardening cock press into your center.

“Fuck,” you breathe out as you let out an experimental roll of your hips against his. Jungkook pulls back with a short chuckle before kissing your lips gently again.

“Quiet,” he laughs again and you push his chest away from yours to get him to sit on the edge of his bed. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his tiny waist and thick thighs. You continued to kiss like no tomorrow before you placed your palm over his center.

“Shit,” he groans into your mouth as you palm him slowly and torturously. “Y/N, wait, are you sure?”  

You pull your hand back and stare down at him with hazy eyes. You nod frantically, “Yes, are you?”

“God yes,” he breathes out and in one smooth motion, he flips you two over with him standing in between your legs. He begins to take his shirt from your body and you happily help him and his eyes immediately go to your breasts, your nipples taut for him.

He kisses you again before kissing down your neck and then down over your boobs, his tongue swirling and his teeth nipping at all the right places. Jungkook finds himself on his knees, right in front of where you need each other most. He spreads your legs a little more before he goes right in to kiss your center over your underwear. Your head falls back as you rest on your hands watching him bite his lip in excitement. You’d never had a guy go down on your the first hookup—you thought you could be in love right now.

His brown eyes glance at you briefly before you nod for him to make sure what he was going was okay. He fingers pull at your underwear and you lift your hips to help him drag the material down your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls your towards him, his mouth going straight to work on you.

You shut your eyes at the feeling unable to keep them open as he laps up and down your slit. He kisses you with hunger and when he finds your clit, the moan that escapes your mouth is loud and embarrassing.

“Oh god, Jungkook,” he smirks against your pussy before continuing to lap at your sensitive bud, his fingers now teasing your entrance.

He slips in one finger, pumping it slowly before entering a second—stretching you just how you need. You fall back on your elbows and your toes curl when you feel an orgasm close approaching.

“Fuck, fuck,” your hips raise as he focuses on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face. He can tell you’re about to come and he’d be damned if he didn’t bring you there. Two more kitten licks send you over the edge and you climax hard having to bite your lip so you don’t make much noise.

Jungkook licks his lips as he comes back to you to kiss you. You welcome him with open arms and you pull him on top of you. You needed him now and the issue in his pants showed he wanted you just as much. You help him push down his sweats and boxers and when you first get sight of his dick, your mouth nearly drops. Okay—the universe was definitely helping you out right now.

You reach down between you, wrapping your hands around his girth to fully harden him. He sucks in a deep breath when you pull and tug at his sensitive skin. You take his pre cum on your thumb and rub it around to make the slip easier. His forehead falls against your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off. His breathing increases as each pull comes from your hand and he’ quickly pushing your hand away.

“I wanna be inside you baby,” he says and it sends a shockwave through your core.

Jungkook finds a condom from his side table and rolls it on quickly. He positions himself between you, his nose brushing against yours as he pecks your lips.

“Ready?” He asks you as he guides his tip into you. Both of your mouths fall agape, a small whine coming from Jungkook’s throat as he pushes deeper into you. “Fuck—Y/N, you’re so tight.”

You lift your hips to help him get as deep as possible and when he bottoms out, you’re unsure if you’ve ever felt this full your entire life. His forehead falls against your shoulder once more and he kisses your exposed skin gently as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.

He feels more than amazing and your whole body feels on fire.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out as you wrap your legs around his back, “Faster, please.” You don’t care about sounding desperate.

He sits up on his elbows and obeys, snapping his hips against you harder and quicker. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingertips pulling at his hair and neither of you can be quiet now.

“Shit,” he marvels at the way he disappears inside of you, your cunt squeezing around him so he won’t leave.

“Jungkook—ah,” he hits your deepest spot in you and he sticks his thumb in your mouth to bite down on to shut you up. His other fingers grip the side of your neck and you feel like you could pass out from his ministrations.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he whispers in your ear and you nod pulling his face down to you, snapping your hips to meet up with his. You found yourself clenching around his cock as Jungkook’s breaths get shakier and shakier. “Fuck Y/N.”

“Don’t stop,” you managed to get out as he hammered you into his mattress, hitting your g-spot perfectly—another orgasm quickly coming into your system. Jungkook’s face was contorted and tortured as he chased his high deep inside of you. “Come on Jungkook,” you whisper beside his ear and he lifts his head up, crashing his lips onto yours.

Between your desperate attempts to be quiet and Jungkook’s relentless pace, you come again around his cock fast and hard, pulsating around him in spurts.

“Ah—fuck,” Jungkook’s hips ram into yours deeply as he finally finds his release. He collapses on top of your frame, his elbows the only thing holding him up. He pulls himself out of you a moment later, but he doesn’t move his body from above you.

Both of you are breathing heavy, it being the only sound radiating in the room. You caress  the right side of his face, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. He leans into your touch with a small smile before kissing your wrist gently. He then rolls his body from yours, discarding of his condom quickly.

You both turn to each other as Jungkook throws an arm lazily around your waist.

“Are you even real?” His deep voice suddenly says with his eyes closed. You give him a sheepish smile as he opens his eyes.

“The universe is fucking funny huh?” You say and Jungkook laughs deep within his chest.

“Very funny,” he mumbles before watching your face intently.

“Now what?” You ask obliviously. Sure, you had your hookups on and off before but with Jungkook—something felt different—in a good way. Like he wasn’t supposed to be a hookup—but something more.

He shrugs, “Whatever you wanna be.”

You bite your lip hesitating before saying, “I know you just got out of a relationship so I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything.”

“It’s fine Y/N,” he gives you a small smile, “I’m fine with whatever you’re fine with. As long as you don’t break my heart.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully, “You mean as long as you don’t break my heart.”

He smirks, “Deal.”

.

You meet with Namjoon and Jungkook the following week to begin working on your project. You three decided on meeting in the library after all of your classes were over for the day to keep it convenient. You and Jungkook finished around the same time and ended up grabbing some food before heading out to the library. It had not been that long since you and Jungkook hooked up and you two began to text and Snapchat each other everyday. Your friendship with Jungkook hadn’t changed in any way as you two didn’t officially have a label yet, but now one look at him sent you weak to the knees.  

“You guys seriously couldn’t wait for me to get food?!” Namjoon shows up on the second floor of the library around 6:25 PM. You and Jungkook laugh at him as he sits down. He looks exhausted.

“Rough day?” You ask him as he sits down from across from you and Jungkook.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Have you ever amputated a finger before?”

You and Jungkook give each other an odd glance before scrunching your nose, “No, what the fuck?” Jungkook mutters.

Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Well how about 4 fingers? That was my day summed up and I still think I’m queasy,” he shakes his head slowly.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Joon, don’t you wanna be a doctor?”

“Family medicine, not surgery or anything gross like that,” he explains and that makes much more sense—though I’m sure Namjoon knows medical school has a lot more than family medicine waiting for him.

“Gotcha,” you pull up the documents you have saved for your research on your computer. Under the table, Jungkook nudges your knee with his and you have to fight the urge to smile.

Namjoon watches, the two of you oblivious.

“You look happy,” he says. Jungkook looks up from his phone and you from your screen.

“Who?” You and Jungkook same at the same time.

Namjoon narrows his eyes, “Both of you… strange,” he licks his lips pondering on his words.

You glance at Jungkook before turning back to your screen, not wanting to be caught in his stare.

“Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?” Jungkook laughs sarcastically.

You bite your lip trying to suppress your smile. Sure, you and Jungkook had hooked up once or twice now and you two were slowly getting to know each other more everyday—but you swore the butterflies in your stomach told you something was special about him.

“I mean, you’re just always so quiet… and—hey why are you laughing?” Namjoon looks at you with a serious expression.

“I’m not laughing,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah Y/N, quit laughing,” Jungkook says, nudging your leg under the table again.

“God I’m gonna get queasy again,” Namjoon’s face contorts, his eyes darting between the two of you, “Since when do you two flirt with each other? In front of me?”

Once again, you keep your eyes away from Jungkook, “We’re not flirting,” you say monotonously.

Namjoon looks at Jungkook since you refuse to meet anyone’s gaze. Namjoon raises his  eyebrows at his friend curiously, an unspoken language going between them. Jungkook smirks before giving you one last glance before he says—

“Y/N and I hooked up.”

Your eyes widen instantly at Jungkook’s words and you whip your head to turn towards him.

“Jungkook what the fuck! I thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone!” Your words give away to Namjoon that Jungkook wasn’t bluffing.

Jungkook’s eyes soften looking at you, “Come on, his crazy ass was onto us anyways,” he motions towards Namjoon.

“Yeah, uh huh. I knew something was off when Jungkook’s ears kept going red every time he looked at you,” Namjoon slowly starts to smile, “How disgusting is that.”

You flip him off, “Well, don’t tell anyone.”  

“So,” Namjoon pauses, “You guys aren’t…?” He trails his question off and both of you know what he wants to say. Soulmates.

Slowly, you both shake your head. Namjoon is slightly confused himself. Normally by 18 years old people have their other half assigned to them—him included. His partner’s name appeared on the inside of his palm when he was 15. But you and Jungkook were almost 22?

“Do you guys have one? That you just haven’t met yet?” Namjoon keeps his question low.

Again, you both shake your heads. Wow, Namjoon thinks. An idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Wait so—I have an idea,” Namjoon’s eyes light up.

“Oh god,” Jungkook mumbles.

“So if you guys don’t have partners and you two keep… doing it,” he pauses with a laugh, “Couldn’t we use your experience in our project?”

It takes a few moments for Namjoon’s words to register as your mouth falls agape. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure if he heard Namjoon correctly.

“Hyung, didn’t you just hear her say not to tell anyone?” Jungkook deadpans.

“I mean we don’t have to specify names,” Namjoon quickly elaborates, “I mean you guys did some research right? You’ve read all the horrible stuff that happens to people who go against nature.”

Yeah, you did read about that stuff and it absolutely terrified you. But even after hooking up with Jungkook and other suitors in your life—nothing bad had happened to you, so if anything, this research exists to only frighten people.

“Namjoon, I get what you’re saying but—I don’t know, we might not even hook up again,” you laugh waving your hand off.

“Wait, why not?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly goes to a higher pitch, his eyes looking at you quickly. Namjoon chuckles at the exchange. Namjoon had known Jungkook a long time and he’s never seen him want this much validation from a female—ever.

“I mean,” you pause looking at the dark haired boy beside you, “I didn’t know if—“

“Yeah yeah, work out this shit later,” Namjoon interrupts, “But I don’t know, just something to keep in mind over the rest of the semester.”

With that, the conversation ended and the three of you managed to begin typing up your report. Occasionally, you would bump Jungkook’s knee here and there just to see his reaction. He would smile although not sparing a glance at you. By the end of your study session, all three of you got a good start on the project and Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh the whole night and you knew it didn’t belong anywhere else.

.

Weeks later, yours and Jungkook’s relationship became slightly more complicated. While you two managed to stay cordial in class and hide whatever the hell was going on between you two—once you two were alone, all bets were fucking off. Jungkook would come to your place or you would go to his when his roommates were out and he would fuck you into the mattress until you were nearly screaming. It was good—he was good—and quickly you felt yourself starting to catch feelings for him. You knew that was dangerous territory considering a name might pop up on your body any day, so as hard as it was, you repressed your feelings for him. You were unsure of how Jungkook felt. As better as he was at talking now and he did trust you, he wasn’t one for deep talk unless he had a few glasses of wine in his system. You were fine with that though, knowing it was probably for the better.

You had thought everything was going good—Jungkook, classes, exams, your project, keeping up with Taehyung and Jimin—until it all came crashing down one afternoon at your apartment.

It was a Friday afternoon and you had invited Jungkook over to… well… get your brains fucked out. You like to think you are a smart girl but today, you were being a grade ass dumbass because you had completely forgotten about your lunch date with Taehyung and Jimin.

Normally, Taehyung wouldn’t have cared if you had missed one day with him but as your best friend of years and years—he noticed something had been off with you lately. Slightly more… flakey than normal. Jimin noticed it too. So when Taehyung found himself outside of your apartment that Friday afternoon, what he saw—shook him to his core.

You and Jungkook had just gotten out of the shower after going at it like bunnies for a good hour. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, placing his lips around yours and down your neck, leaving barely there marks behind of your ears.

“Jungkook—stop,” you push his bare chest away as you heard someone knocking on your door. He gives you a shit-eating grin, staying back in the hallway as you go to the door, holding the towel up around your body tight.

You open the door and your face fell instantly. Fuck.

“Taehyung? Jimin?” Your voice shakes, “W-what are you doing here?”

Without any warning Taehyung and Jimin step into your apartment and you begin to panic.

“What the hell Y/N, you’ve bailed on us without explanation three times now!” Taehyung says dramatically, “I mean damn I know Jimin and I are disgusting sometimes but the least you can do is give a heads—what’s that?” Taehyung’s eyes land on your neck and you step away from him, holding your towel closer to you.

“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I’m s-sorry I forgot about lunch, I’ve been really busy lately,” your excuse is lame, but you have nothing else.

“Busy?” Taehyung says eyeing you up and down, “I can see that.”

“Y/N hey where is—“ your eyes roll into the back of your head as Jungkook enters your living room at just the wrong time. No, he didn’t know it was Taehyung and Jimin, but it still doesn’t make you happy. Especially since he’s just wearing sweatpants, his hair wet like yours, compromising your secret.

“Whoa,” Jimin suddenly laughs looking at the scene. “This the quiet one?” He points over at Jungkook. Jungkook pouts—what are they talking about?—he thinks to himself.

“Holy shit Y/N what are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t seem as enthusiastic. He looks over at Jungkook and you swear you see Taehyung salivate inside his mouth, “I mean I get why you’re doing it but, c’mon isn’t this risky?”

“I know you’re probably confused,” you bite your lip nervously. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”

“Yeah no shit,” he genuinely seems angry, an emotion not common to him. “We’re best friends Y/N.”

“Tae, c’mon it’s really none of our business,” Jimin steps in trying to help you out.

“It is too my business when he could potentially hurt her,” Taehyung crosses his arms. Jungkook seems taken aback by his comment and he steps towards you from behind.

“I mean I like her,” Jungkook’s voice quickly speaks up, startling you from behind. You turn your body to look at him, his eyes meeting yours.

“You do?” Your voice comes out in a squeak, a smile spreading on your face like a wildfire.

“You do?” Taehyung asks this time, looking between you two. He looks at his partner Jimin who specializes in this stuff. Jimin nods at Taehyung for reassurance.

“Yeah, a lot actually,” Jungkook steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his chest. You try to hide your embarrassingly huge smile.

Taehyung’s body visibly falters, his eyes going back to his usual soft gaze. Taehyung knew you deserved happiness and if Jungkook made you happy—who was he to stop that?

“I’m sorry again for keeping this from you, it’s just we didn’t want…”

“No I get it,” he nods, “But don’t do that shit again,” he gives you a smile. As warm as Jungkook’s embrace is, you step away and give yourself to Taehyung’s arms.

“You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest.

“Bitch, I know,” his chest rumbles against yours. Jungkook watches you and Taehyung embrace, his heart swelling. Goddamn—maybe he is in a little too deep. At this point, he doesn’t care though. If anything, he wants to make you happy and he’d be damned to let the universe stop that.

.

It was officially Halloween. Nearly three months after you and Jungkook first crossed paths and met, the two of you were also “official”. Neither of you can recall the exact date it happened, but it was not long after Taehyung and Jimin busted you two. You and Jungkook had decided to not tell that many people outside of your inner circle—neither of you wanting to deal with the glares and questions. You didn’t have a name attached on your body and he didn’t either, so what were you guys doing wrong? Nothing. He was yours and you were his and you haven’t been this happy in a long time.

Jungkook, though his Virgo nature being quite selfish sometimes, was always sweet, caring, checking in on you, surprising you with flowers, genuine, and opened up some of his deepest fears to you. You had been on cloud nine for months all because of him. You had probably thanked Namjoon at least six different occasions for dragging you over to meet them way back when. Namjoon was happy for you two—though being as quizzical as he was—he had his concerns, though he never outright voiced them.

Jimin being how he was, had his concerns too. Everyone around you and Jungkook saw how you two were infatuated around each other. Jimin had never seen two people who weren’t soulmates have the connection you two had. It worried him for many reasons, which is why he’s voicing them to Taehyung right now.

“Babe, I don’t know,” Jimin says as him and Taehyung somehow got on the topic of you and Jungkook. “Don’t you think they’re moving really fast?” He questions.

Taehyung looks at his partner, a confused expression crossing his features, “Why do you say that? As long as Y/N is happy, I don’t really care who dicks her down at night, soulmate or not.”

Jimin lets out a laugh before shaking his head, “I mean, in all my case studies I’ve never seen two people like that.”

Taehyung deadpans his boyfriend, “Jimin, you of all people should know that’s not true.”

Jimin nods, immediately understanding where he is coming from. “I know. I’m just worried one of them will get hurt. A name is destined to show up on them eventually.”

Taehyung grinds his teeth, “Y/N has never been one to feed into that stuff so I’m not sure she would care anyways.”

“But she should Tae,” Jimin says, “Jungkook too. I mean there’s serious repercussions to messing with nature.”

“Well they’re fine now, aren’t they?” by Taehyung’s response—Jimin isn’t even sure if he full listening to him. Taehyung being good with numbers and business, he doesn’t fully grasp the concepts of soulmates like Jimin does. For Jimin—it’s his studies, his passion, his life.

“Yeah but—“ Jimin gets cut off by a harsh knock on his apartment door.

“They’re here,” Taehyung smiles walking over to get the door, “Don’t say anything sketch okay?” he warns Jimin as he opens the door.

You nearly fall on your ass as Taehyung opens the door. Jungkook pulls you back with a laugh as you walk into Jimin’s apartment.

“Tae! Chim!” You smile widely, throwing your arms around Taehyung’s neck tightly. You stumble in your heels and Taehyung’s hands steady you, a rumble in his chest.

“Jesus Y/N. How much have you drank already?” He exasperates, glancing over at Jungkook.

“I told her to slow down,” Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. You giggle letting go of your friend to quickly hug Jimin too. “She doesn’t listen to me,” he adds with a laugh.

“I’m fine guys,” you say glancing at Taehyung’s and Jimin’s costumes.”Really? Pirates?”  

“Hey!” Taehyung defends, “How much more cliché could you two get? A doctor and a nurse?!”

You glance over at Jungkook in his scrubs and white coat and down your body. A slutty red and white nurse’s uniform complete with thigh highs hug your figure and you quite liked it, mainly because watching Jungkook shift uncomfortably every time he glanced at you made you feel accomplished.

“Hey, we look hot,” you point at Taehyung’s chest, stumbling backwards again. Jungkook decides to pull you to his side, not wanting you to fall on your ass for real this time.

“Come on babe, slow down,” Jungkook mumbles as he wraps his arms around your front, glancing down your cleavage from behind. You nudge his stomach with your elbow.

“I’m a big girl,” you pout, “So are we going or what?”

“Yeah, just waiting on the address,” Jimin smiles waving his phone in the air.

A few moments pass, chatter between the four of you ensues. You loved your little group. Taehyung and Jimin welcomed Jungkook with open arms, the four of you going out on double dates, grabbing coffee, watching movies, and studying all became weekly occurrences. You were always so scared to dive into another relationship given your age and circumstance, but you swore that someway and somehow—you and Jungkook were meant to be together.

Twenty minutes later, the four of you step out of your Uber and make your way towards the new bar that opened near your campus. It was opening weekend and a Halloween party was obviously necessary. You held onto Jungkook’s hand tightly as you made your way inside the crowded area. You immediately aimed your way to the bar, ordering a vodka-soda, Jungkook ordering some soju.

“Don’t blackout on me now,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, watching the way you take a huge sip of your drink.

“I said I’m a big girl,” you stand your ground, “I bet I can put away twice as many drinks as you.”

“Don’t listen to her Jungkook,” Taehyung says grabbing his own mixed drink, “She likes to spit nonsense when she’s drunk.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” he smirks at you and roll your eyes at him. Jungkook leans down and you peck his lips lightly—the same butterflies swirling in your stomach all these months later. Jimin watches the interaction closely. He knows exactly how you and Jungkook feels, but he still can’t shake the uneasiness deep in his gut.

“Come on, let’s dance,” you smile up at your boyfriend tugging on his arm. The music was loud and good, you were not just going to stand around. Jungkook nods quickly as you finish your drink, leaving Taehyung and Jimin behind at the bar.

Your heels made you more even with Jungkook’s height tonight as you threw your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. His hands grip you waist tightly, wanting every guy here to know that you were his. For some reason, for whatever fucking reason—Jungkook felt inclined to protect you. As you sing whatever song was playing loudly, Jungkook found himself smiling and laughing at you. His chest twisted and his heart thumped. He still pinched himself when he woke up in the mornings. How did he get so lucky in this fucked world of destiny? If you weren’t meant for him, then who was?

You turn around pushing your back to his front. He holds you close as you both sway to the music as if it’s only you and him against the world. He smiles into your neck, kissing your delicate skin once in awhile. He spins you out from him and spins you back in quickly, your mind going dizzy.

“Hey careful,” you whine as you turn to him once again, “I’m drunk you know.”

“I thought you were a big girl,” he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe not when I’m drunk,” you yell-whisper into his ear. He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. To any wondering eye, it would look as if you two were soulmates among other destined couples. Maybe that was the point? To fake it and then it becomes real?

Your heart swells at the thought. Jungkook studies your face intently, knowing that uttering his next words could be real dangerous but when you flash your gorgeous smile at him—he knows he has to say it.

“Wanna know a secret?” He asks.

“Sure.”

“I love you,” the words spill from his mouth. Your movements stop and you swear your drunkeness subsides momentarily.

“W-what?” You stutter. Did you hear him correctly?

“I know we’re drunk and this isn’t the best time but yeah,” he nods, “I love you Y/N.”

You head spins and you heart drops into your stomach. A smile creeps up onto your face.

“Really?” you ask, your eyes similar to those of a puppy. Jungkook nods, biting his lip. Will you say it back? “Thank fucking god, I thought I was the only one,” you say dramatically.

He furrows his eyebrows, chuckling, “Really?”

“Jeon Jungkook I fucking love you too,” you say, “I was waiting on you to say it.”

Once again he laughs, “Babe you can’t wait on stuff, you gotta go after what you want.”

“Well I already have you, don’t I?” You point out, “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Why? We’ve have one drink babe,” he says as you’re tugging on his hand.

“I know,” you look at him with a devilish smirk, “But I wanna fuck you and I’m not doing that in this bar.”

Jungkook’s face falls, blood rushing to his cock. “Fair enough.”

.

November is cold, which means December is going to be even colder. The days get shorter and your nights get longer as you try to prepare for finals in the next few weeks. Currently you’re bundled in two layers of clothing in the back of the library with Namjoon, adding the finishing touches on your final project that’s also due soon. Jungkook had to attend a seminar for one of his classes this evening which is why he’s MIA.

“Lucky shit,” Namjoon remarks when you explain your boyfriend’s absence. It was still strange to refer to him as your boyfriend.

“Would you honestly want to be lectured about how building muscles in the key to life right now?” You raise an eyebrow at him pointedly. Jungkook could even admit as a sports medicine major some of the people and things he learns about is absolute horseshit.

Namjoon laughs, “Touche.”

You’re working on the presentation aspect of you project while Namjoon is typing away at the research paper. As much as you despised the soulmate hoopla, reading about this stuff was very interesting. You had read how soulmates are apparently linked and of course, there is truly only one person meant for you. You rolled your eyes at these statements. If that was true, then why have you still not been given a name? There were so many questions that were just unanswerable that you couldn’t get over. Sure, the soulmate thing worked for some you couldn’t lie about that. At the end of the day though, perhaps you were one of the lucky ones—not bound by a name and given free reign over who is in the same spot as you.

“How’s everything going with you two by the way?” Namjoon asks curiously. His eyes haven’t left his computer screen so you oppose looking back at him when you answer.

“Good,” you smile slightly, “It’s still weird to think that we’re together,” you laugh at your statement.

He smiles to himself, “Weird for you? How about weird for me? I introduced the two of you being Jungkook is shy twat.”

“I know, I know,” you reach across the table and squeeze Namjoon’s hand playfully, “Which is why I’ve thanked you how many times now?”

“Yeah yeah, you only. Jungkook hasn’t given me his thanks yet.”

“I wouldn’t expect him too.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” he smiles with another stifled laugh as you two try to keep quiet. “So nothing’s really happened between you two?”

He’s referring to your project which you hastily agreed on letting yours and Jungkook’s “experience” to be first hand research.

You shake your head, “No. By the fifth time we had sex I was expecting to “feel excruciating pain deep within my chest as the universe tries to pull me away” him,” you quote one of the claims made by a well-known and well respected researcher. It was almost comical—how could anyone believe this stuff?

“Okay, TMI,” he puts his hands up.

“Hey this was your idea,” you remind him.

“It’s just wild to me,” he says, “I mean we grow up thinking there’s someone out there only meant for us and you and Jungkook… just don’t have one?” He looks off in the distance and you’re not sure if you should be offended by his statement—though Namjoon is a realist and he’s very logical so everything he’s saying is true.

“We have each other,” you shrug, “That’s good enough for me. I love him for who he is,” you almost feel heat coming to your face but you push it down.

“That’s how I feel about Kaya,” he almost smiles.

You look at him curiously—Namjoon hardly ever speaks of his soulmate. They’ve been together for a long time but she goes to university a couple hours from here so they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like.

“Can I see?” You whisper. He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Your mark, I mean.”

Namjoon looks down at his left hand before nodding, opening his palm for you. In faint white writing, almost skin color—is the name Kaya in beautiful cursive. It makes your heart strings feel heavy for a moment. You knew you didn’t need a name to find love but you had always been curious about what it would be like to dawn one.

“Did it hurt? When it showed up?”

He shakes his head, “Not really, just kind like a little sting.”

“Why do you think I don’t have one? And Jungkook too?”

Your question catches him off guard. Honestly if anyone could answer this question, it was Park Jimin but he obviously wasn’t here. Namjoon was smart though—maybe he had good theories.

“I honestly don’t know,” he says softly, “I feel all the research of this stuff only applies for people who have one.”

You snort, “Right.”

“I mean you can never say never though,” he shakes his head, “Just because society has said before eighteen, that could be bullshit for all we know. You saw how in some of these articles, some names showed up in people’s early and mid-twenties too.”

“Yeah… and then what?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“It’s just seems so unfair that I can see Jungkook in my life after college and that could be taken away so easily. Or I could be taken away from him… it’s just so fucked don’t you think?” You don’t even realize how shaky your tone is, but Namjoon picks it up.

“Are you worried about that?”

Your mouth goes dry, “I like to think he’s the one for me,” you say after a few seconds of silence.

He bites his lip, unsure of what to say next, “Well maybe he is,” he offers trying to lighten your mood.

You look down at your hands, inspecting your wrist and fingers carefully. Your stomach churns at your next thought.

“And what if he isn’t?” You glance back to find his eyes staring holes into you.

“Then it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to think the universe isn’t wrong.”

You nod slowly taking in his words. Sure you and Jungkook had been official for awhile now and you hoped that this feeling with him would never end. You liked to think the universe isn’t wrong either and maybe that’s why you and Jungkook found each other—cause it was meant to be.

Yours and Namjoon’s conversation stuck with you the rest of the evening. Jungkook had picked you up from the library in his black Mercedes around 8 PM. Even though it was a Wednesday, you and Jungkook had been staying at each other’s places more often than not. With your only roommate being away in Europe for study abroad, it was nice having him stay with you.

Jungkook noticed something was bothering you as he drove back to your place as you didn’t say much to him. You gripped his hand tightly in yours but the way your eyes didn’t meet his— it worried him. He became even more worried when you didn’t want to eat dinner after he had picked up your favorite takeout. It was his treat to you since he was unable to come to the library tonight.

“I’m just not that hungry,” you said pushing around the Chinese food with your chopsticks. You were both sat on your couch, your feet up in his lap watching some romantic-comedy TV show—Jungkook’s choosing—not yours.

“You’re always hungry,” he says poking at your leg to try to get a smile from you. Nothing. He furrows his eyebrows at you though you don’t even notice it as you’re looking away from him.

“What’s up babe?” Jungkook’s question takes you out of your thoughts. Were you that obvious?

“Hm?” You glance at him, trying to play your emotions off.

“You’re just being so… quiet?” He says softly, setting down his plate on the coffee table. He shifts his body to your frame, a hand holding up his head on the back of the couch.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Y/N you can tell me anything you know,” he rubs the back of your calves. The motion alone relaxes you significantly and you still don’t know how someone has this affect over you.

You pause, unsure if you should voice your worries to him. Would they cause problems between you two if you said what you were actually thinking? Was Namjoon right? “It’s just Namjoon and I were talking tonight and—“

“What did he say to you?” Jungkook quickly interrupts with a harsh tone. As much as Jungkook loved Namjoon like a brother—he was too brash and sometimes that lead to hurt feelings.

“It’s nothing he said it just got me thinking,” you shake your head aimlessly, looking behind Jungkook’s head at the wall.  He doesn’t say anything wanting you to continue. “Don’t you worry about the future?”

Jungkook purses his lips, thinking deeply about your question before answering honestly.

“Everyday,” he says, “But I like to live for now, in the present… why are you asking?”

“What are we supposed to do if we’re separated, huh?” The words tumble from your mouth, your tone not the sweetest. You tense up in Jungkook’s hands and he notices your demeanor quickly changing.

“Why are you saying that Y/N?” His voice is confused and heavy.

“Because I fucking love you Jungkook and I don’t want you taken away from me, that’s why,” you let out a deep breath, pushing yourself up and off the couch. Jungkook watches you as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. You’re clearly distressed about something. Slowly, he rises to his feet sauntering over to your frame that’s staring down at the sink.

“Y/N,” his voice is low behind you. Your knuckles are nearly white from gripping the side of the counter so hard. You felt tears pricking in your eyes that you had to force away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your front and you lean back into his frame.

He rests his head on your shoulder, “Baby I get it, okay? I know it’s scary not knowing what the hell is wrong with people like us—“

“That’s the problem Jungkook,” you say, “There’s something wrong with us and it’s fucked up. How do we know that this, us, is okay?”

“Listen I know you don’t believe in destiny and all that stuff but,” he pauses nuzzling into your neck, “But I do and I feel like if this, us—isn’t meant to be, then what is?”

You lean your head on his before you reluctantly turn your body around, your hands sliding behind his torso.

“How are you so sure?” You mutter meeting his gaze. His eyes are worried for you but still deep down, they have a light and wonder you’ve never fully understood.

He gives you a tiny smile, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved anyone more before, I promise you, we’ll be fine. You will be fine.”

The weight from your shoulders is lifted as Jungkook’s words reassure you. He had such a hopeless romantic complex about him, you were sure he knew everything right to say to make you feel better. He was right—the odds of you two being this late in the game and meeting can’t be coincidental. He was yours and you were his—that’s all that mattered.

“Are you good now?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you nod against his forehead, leaning forward to peck his lips.

“Much better,” you then say. Jungkook chases his mouth with yours again before pulling away after a brief kiss.

“Good because I had something important to ask you anyways,” he says giving you some space.

Your eyes bulge, a worried look instantly spreading on your features, “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you? After what we just—“

He shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not right now at least,” he continues to laugh and your heart lurches at the thought. “But I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Busan with me, for Christmas?”

You are taken aback by his question, your mouth parting unsure of what to say.

“Like go home with you?” He nods at your question, “And meet your family?” He nods again.

“I know we haven’t been together that long but I’d figure I would offer,” he shrugs.

“Do your parents know about us?”

“I mentioned someone to them on the phone the other day.”

“Do they know the full situation?” you ponder. You two weren’t soulmates and meeting parents was a huge step.

“No,” he says, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fake it,” a smirk spreads on his lips.

“Jungkook, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“None of my ideas are the best ideas let’s be real,” he chuckles, “And I’m not saying you have to go, but if you want to the offer is there.”

You bite your lip as your eyes meet. The stove light was shining on his face so his small scar was prominent. It would be nice you suppose, meeting his brother who gave him that scar and his parents too. You had never met any of your significant other’s parents—Jungkook really must believe in you two then.

“I’ll think about it,” you smile up at him, squeezing your arms tightly around his frame. He nods before leaning down, kissing you once again gently. Your night ends with you finally eating your food and Jungkook in your bed making you feel better than anyone ever has. It was perfect.

WINTER

“And how, may I ask,” your professor’s voice is the first to ask a question when you are done speaking, “Did the three of you manage to maintain data regarding the intimacy of two people whose souls are not bound yet?”

Your eyes flicker over to Namjoon and Jungkook. You’re about to respond but Namjoon beats you to it.

“Professor Jung, we know it can seem like we made up part of our research but,” he pauses, “But we trust the individuals who relayed us this information in the past three months and out of respect for them… we ask for you not to probe too much.”

Your professor’s eyebrows raise at Namjoon’s comment. His eyes flicker between the three of you, unable to decipher Namjoon’s passive aggressiveness. You were thankful he decided to answer the question, because you’re sure that you would have been too nice about it. Why can’t this jackass just take the information you are presenting and shove it up his ass?  

“I see,” he breathes in deeply, “It just seems very hard for me to wrap my head around the argument that you’ve presented, when there’s so much research saying the opposite. The effects of intimacy is sacred for soul bonded people. Horrible illnesses and other things can happen to these people that go against nature.”

“It does seem that way professor,” you chime in, “But perhaps it’s time for new, more in-depth research to be done on this subject. These independent relationships may not work for everyone but in this case—it has.”

He chews on the end of his pen, “I agree wholeheartedly and though I still have my doubts about your research, I cannot deny the three of you have presented me with a topic that no one ever has before. The psychology behind soul-binding, sex, and relationships is amazing and endless… and isn’t the point of life to ask questions?” He seems to have lost somewhat focus on the three of you. What an idiot.  

“Exactly,” Jungkook nods sending you a quick wink. You chew on your bottom lip to avoid from grinning. “As they say, we learn something new everyday.”

“That you are correct Mr. Jeon,” he say points to your boyfriend. “Well, I think you three have presented a wonderful project and I look forward to reading your research paper for further depth. Expect a grade by the end of the week. Thank you, it was… mostly a pleasure having you in my class,” his eyes glance at you briefly and it takes all of you not to launch at him over his stupidly expensive desk.

“Thank you professor. Have a good winter break,” Namjoon smiles. The three of you leave the small conference room attached to his office. Thankfully, you did not have to present your project in front of the entire class.

You let out a groan of relief when the cold winter air welcomes you outside. “Thank god that’s over!” You smile up at the sky.

Jungkook throws an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close, “What grade do you think we’ll get hyung?” He smiles at Namjoon who is digging around for his phone.

“Hopefully an A. With the bullshit you were feeding him? I think he loved it, he was just being a hardass because of Y/N,” he motions to you.

You’re mouth falls open, “Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me! He’s a raging psychotic sexist,” you huff crossing your arms over you.

“Uh huh,” Namjoon hums, “First day straggler.”

You narrow your eyes at him before Jungkook nudges you, “C’mon I’m freezing, let’s go home,” he whines and you give him a small nod.  

“I’ll see you after break?” You ask the dimpled man in front of you.

He smiles, “Yeah for sure. But I gotta go—I have a plane to catch later tonight.”

“Where are you going?” This is even news to Jungkook.

“Oh, Kaya and I are going to Europe for two weeks, should be fun,” he looks down at his phone, “Oh shit, yeah I gotta go, Merry Christmas!” He waves at you two before running off in the opposite direction to the bus stop.

“Europe? I wanna go to Europe,” you pout looking up at Jungkook. He gives you a peck on the lips, your pout irrespective.

“We’ll go one day. It’s fun,” he says as you two begin to walk towards the student parking lot.

“You’ve been?”

“A few countries there, yeah,” he nods intertwining your fingers. Jeez, the amount of things and places Jungkook has been in his 22 years made your life look boring as hell. “Like I said, we’ll go—I promise,” is the last thing he says before you two get into his car.

The car ride is mostly a comfortable silence on the way to your place. His hand rests on your thigh, holding you tighter whenever he takes a turn.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Jungkook asks suddenly getting your attention.

“It’s not that I don’t want to Jungkook,” you say, “It’s just Taehyung said he was going to be here by himself all break and when he asked, I felt bad.”

He pouts giving you a glance, “I know but I’ll be lonelyyy,” he drags out.

“You have your whole family babe,” you laugh at his childish demeanor.

“Yeah but I’m not exactly into cuddling my brother when I go to sleep,” he mutters and you swat his arm. “And you’re telling me I have to go two weeks without having sex?!”

“Jungkook,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re starting to sound like Professor Jung with your concerns about sex.”

“Duh,” he says, “Why do you think I liked him so much?”

“I hate you,” you deadpan and you gives you a shit-eating grin.

“I love you too.”

.

The next couple days Jungkook stays at your place completely, not wanting to leave your side before he has to go to Busan for two weeks. He was very disappointed that you didn’t want to go to Busan with him, but he knew Taehyung was your best friend and you were bound to do anything for him.

“I can’t believe you’re trusting me with your car,” you say pulling into the train station parking garage. His Mercedes was a low-ground sports car, complete with a V8 engine and custom leather seats. You were still blown away that Jungkook had this car in college. You assumed that his parents must have money because you didn’t know how else to explain it.

Jungkook was nervous watching you drive his baby. When you would press on the gas or the breaks a little too hard he could felt his heart stop for a second.

“Yeah just please be careful,” he pleads as you park perfectly. You put his car in park and turn to him.

“Don’t you trust me?” You blink your lashes at him. He smirks adjusting the beanie on his head.

“I do,” he says, “Mostly.”

“Let’s make a deal Jeon,” you suggest as you help him unload his bags from the trunk. Jungkook was like a woman bringing two full suitcases and a duffle bag with him for a two week trip.

“Shoot babe,” he says.

“If nothing happens to your car in these two weeks—which it won’t—you can treat me for being a good girl,” you smirk up at him and he visibly gulps, rolling his tongue in his cheek. He thought your morning sex would have been enough but he wonder’s if he should take you into a bathroom at the train station and fuck your brains out again before he leaves.

“Deal,” he manages to choke out, going against his previous thought. Goddamn he was so in love with you he wasn’t sure he could make it without you for two weeks. In the five months you have known each other this was going to be longest time spent apart.

As you approach the ticket counter for Jungkook to check in, you start to feel a sadness settling in your heart and stomach. You felt like you were being dramatic about not seeing Jungkook for two weeks but he had become such an important role in your happiness—it was going to be weird not seeing him everyday. He truly was your other half.

“Alright I gotta head to my platform,” Jungkook says giving you a weak smile. “Thanks for driving me here.”

You try your best to muster up a smile, “No problem.”

He quickly pulls you in for a hug, encasing your frame around his tightly. You inhale his scent deeply so you won’t forget it in the next couple weeks.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he mumbles into your ear.

You pull your head out of his chest, “As long as you don’t miss me too much.”

God you two were disgusting.

He smiles leaning down a for kiss, you close the gap between you two. You only kiss for a moment not wanting to catch any unwanted attention.

“I love you,” you smile at him.

“I love you too,” he says, suddenly reaching into the deep pocket of his large sweatshirt. “Here,” he hands over a tiny box wrapped in Christmas paper and an envelope taped to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook,” you look at him and then the present, “We said we weren’t going to give each other presents.”

“I know but I couldn’t resist. I just thought of you when I saw it.”

“Thank you,” your heart flutters and you give him one last peck before he has to leave.  

“Merry Christmas,” he says, “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”

“Merry Christmas Jungkook.”

A brief walk back to Jungkook’s car has your heart in shambles. As you watched him leave for his platform, you couldn’t help but think you should have went with him. Taehyung would have understood—but that also meant meeting his parents and you weren’t sure that was a good idea just yet.

You settled into the driver seat of his car, carefully tearing the wrapping from the small box. Your eyes widen when you open it, a baby teal box revealing a beautiful ring on the inside. A gold band shines in the light, a small circular diamond in the middle shines even brighter.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, quickly ripping open the envelope that he also gave you. It contained a cheesy Christmas card, his handwriting scribbling—

Merry Christmas Y/N. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one. I’m just one call away and I’ll always be here for you.

Cheesy I know—but you know cheesy is my middle name.

I love you.

Jungkook

.

“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Taehyung exclaims when you show him your new accessory on your hand. “This must have been thousands of dollars,” he grabs your hand to inspect the jewelry. “Tiffany too? What kind of money is Jungkook’s parent’s shitting out for him to give you this?”

“Hey now, he does well with his photography,” you pinch in, noting that he began selling pieces after much consideration.

“I know I know but damn,” he moves your hand around to see the light catching in the diamond. “When did he give you this?”

“The other day when I dropped him off at the train station.”

“Wow… I think you’ve won in the boyfriend category Y/N,” his eyes still haven’t left your finger and you know it’s the alcohol in his system that is keeping him mesmerized.

“It’s not a competition dumbass,” you spew at him.

“What did you get him? An amazing blowjob topped with a new lens for his cameras?”

You laugh at Taehyung’s words, “I’m more mad at the fact the he even bought it, we said we weren’t going to give each other gifts.”

“Well shit Y/N he basically proposed to you—that’s not a gift, is it?” His glassy, wine drunk eyes look at you curiously.

You pull your hand away from him, laying back down against your couch.

“Tae,” you mutter, feeling slightly tipsy yourself, “Do you think Jungkook and I will last?”

Taehyung leans back beside you, exhaling a deep breathe heavily. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but it makes you nervous.

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes looking straight ahead, his tone real and understanding. Taehyung couldn’t voice it—no matter how much he wanted to over the months of you relationship with Jungkook—but he knew what you were going through in more ways than one.

“Really?” You look at him, nuzzling your head into his outstretched arm. He looks down at you before nodding.

“If you two want it to work… it will,” his voice deep and serious.

“How do you know that though?” You mutter, your tone down and pessimistic.

He breathes in deeply, “I just do… I know you two love each other. Anyone can see it Y/N. Don’t doubt anything unless you’ve been given a reason to doubt.”

Taehyung was always more philosophical when he was drinking and this proves that even more.

“Trust me,” his deep voice adds when you don’t say anything immediately .

“What would I do without you?” You finally muster looking up at him.

He smirks, “Lose your mind, that’s what.”

“Give me more credit than that asshole,” you push against his torso.

He laughs before responds with, “Hell no.”

“Well, should we open up our presents?” You give him a small smile glancing at the gifts that were lazily strewn on the floor. Your miniature Christmas tree was slightly pathetic—but it was better than nothing you suppose.

“Sure, but don’t expect another item from Tiffany alright?” He muses as he stands up to grab his gifts for you.

“Fuck off,” you laugh reaching your hands out as he places a bag and a box wrapped in front of you. You were sure Jimin wrapped these given how perfect they were.

“You first,” he gives you a warm smile. You dig into the bag first as it is less to unwrap. Your mouth drops open when you pull out a box of condoms, Taehyung stifling a laugh behind his smile.

“Taehyung are you kidding me?” You’re trying hard not to laugh either. He fucking would.

“Ultra thin… thought they would come in handy since, you know, you two fuck like bunnies,” he sends over a wink and you’re quick to flip him off. You open his next present which happens to be a coat you’ve been eyeing for the past few weeks, but hesitant to buy due to the $300 price tag.

“Tae, you didn’t have to get me this,” you marvel at the thick material, the baby blue color just the one you wanted. “This is too expensive—“

“Babe it’s fine,” he shakes his head, “I know you need some help with our wardrobe so I’m only offering my services,” he says matter of factly.

You move the box away from you and throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly and in this moment you realize how happy your are. You perhaps have the best boyfriend and best friend of anyone you know. You didn’t think anything would change that.

“Here,” you pass Taehyung over your present and he quickly rips the paper off. He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning and you decide to pour more wine as he fidgets with the box.

“Shit Y/N!” He smiles widely, “Holy shit you didn’t have to get me this,” he takes his gift out of the box. He smiles widely at the leather bag you got him. Not a cheap price tag either—but it was Taehyung’s favorite bag and his old one was not cutting it anymore.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, gulping down your white wine quickly. You two were quite drunk at this point.

“Jeez,” he shakes his head pulling you into another bone crushing hug, “Fuck Jimin and Jungkook. Let’s just get married, you and me kid.”

You laugh at his words, “Trust me, if you were straight I would take you up on that.”

The rest of your evening is spent with watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” more wine, and endless laughter with your best friend.

.

It’s about 5 AM when you wake up in your bed with a busting headache and a stomach ache that has you doubled over on your toilet. Fuck, did you really drink that much? Your question is answered when everything in your stomach is coming up through your esophagus. You don’t know how long you sit on your knees, hands on the toilet throwing up your guts.

“Y/N?” Taehyung appears at your bathroom door rubbing his eyes, “Whoa, are you okay?” He quickly comes down behind you, holding your hair back and away from your face.

Finally after what seems like forever, you stop throwing up, resting your head on the porcelain.

“Yeah,” you groan, your throat raw and sore, “I guess I just drank too much.”

“Shit, do you need anything?” He asks, voice laced with concern.

“Just some water please,” you tell him and he leaves to quickly get you a glass. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You’re not sure the last time you were this hungover was. You knew you needed water and sleep—maybe that would alleviate the pain in your head and stomach.

You get back into bed a few moments later with Taehyung laying down beside you. He gives you your space and before you know it, both of you fall back to sleep.

You wake up again around 10 AM, your headache still busting but your stomach more settled now. You’re sipping tea watching another Christmas movie with Taehyung when your phone rings. A smile stretches on your face when you see Jungkook’s name pop up.

“Hey,” you answer the phone, sitting up from your position on the couch.

“Hey babe,” his voice brings comfort to your ears, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you say, “Did you have a good morning?”

Jungkook hesitates over the line before speaks again, “Uh, yeah… what about you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. He sounds… distant and unconfident with his words.

“I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh, watching Taehyung glance at you quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Well I’m just really hungover, Taehyung really did a number on me with the wine last night,” you laugh again trying to ease whatever tension Jungkook is holding through the phone.

He chuckles nervously for a moment over the phone, “Well drink some water and rest okay?”

“I know, I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day,” you look at your nails that desperately need to be manicured.

“Yeah good,” is all he says and you purse your lips. Normally Jungkook is so talkative over the phone—what’s up with him?

“Babe are you okay?” You ask him with genuine concern. You would hate for him to be going through something and him not tell you. Taehyung gives you a weird look and you shrug your shoulders.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just tired from all the Christmas hoopla I’ve had to do the past few days,” he says seeming to explain his demeanor, “But I’m gonna call you later okay? I’ve got a Christmas brunch to get ready for but I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

You smile at his words, “Alright, have fun. I’ll talk to you later. Hurry home. I love you.”

“I’ll try I promise,” you can sense a small smile in his voice, “I love you too.” So much.

You stay sick for the next three days. Your body aches, your head hurts, and you’re still throwing up occasionally therefore you’ve barely had anything to eat the past three days. You and Taehyung are afraid you’ve picked up a small flu from someone. Despite this, Taehyung stays with you, not wanting to leave you alone sick like this.

Jimin gets back from home a couple days after you’ve fallen ill. Jimin being a medical guy himself, is unsure of what or who could have gotten you sick.

“As long as you don’t get and maintain a fever, I think you should be fine,” he says watching your frame on your couch. You had not felt this sick in so long and of course it had to be right before Jungkook got back home too.

“Should Jungkook come around her? He gets back when, tomorrow?” Taehyung asks you.

You nod, “Yeah, tomorrow evening,” you manage to say through your sore throat that feels like it’s actually on fire.

“I don’t think you’re contagious otherwise he would be sick too,” he motions to Taehyung, “He should be fine,” his voice is low and steady. His eyes don’t leave your frame though you’re too tired to notice Jimin’s intense stare.

You push yourself off of the couch, wanting to get some sleep in your bed. “I’m gonna take a nap, you guys don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding, “We can get some food and bring some back for you later?”

“That would be great Tae,” you smile at him, “Thanks guys.”

Jimin and Taehyung leave your apartment, locking the door behind them with Taehyung’s spare key.

“Do you think she’s really okay? I’ve never seen her like this,” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin as he pulls up directions to the nearest ramen restaurant near them.

Jimin’s throat goes dry and he hesitates, biting his lip, “Honestly, I think we’ll just have to see.”

Jimin’s words are uneasy in Taehyung’s mind—both of them equally worried for you.

. You are jumping out of the shower when you get a text from Jungkook.

[Jungkook ♥ 6:58 PM] I’m about an hour away. Can’t wait to see you.

You smile at his text, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. Today you woke up feeling a lot better—still not 100%—but you could actually stomach food today. Despite your illness, you didn’t really care at this point. You could wait to see Jungkook—you missed him so much more than you thought you would have.

[You 7:00 PM] Perfect. I’ll see you soon ♥

[Jungkook ♥ 7:02 PM] ♥

The train station is more crowded than it was went you sent Jungkook off. The masses of being returning from their holiday was immense and you were afriad you weren’t going to be able to find Jungkook through the masses.

Little to your knowledge, Jungkook had spotted you after he exited his platform—a beautiful baby blue coat hanging off of your frame—signaling where you stood. After not seeing your face for two weeks, he smiled to himself. You were so fucking beautiful to him and he loved you so much—it only made his heart hurt even more.

He hesitates walking towards your back that’s facing him. He takes in a deep breath before he wraps his arms around your front. You jump in his arms and turn around with the smile that makes his day. Today—it only breaks him even further.

“Jungkook,” you turn around and hug him tightly. Finally—he was home. He doesn’t say anything as he returns your hug, kissing you on the top of the head. He glances down at his arms, pulling his jacket sleeve down, making sure his watch wasn’t going anywhere.

After all, he was desperate to hide the name that was inked on his wrist that wasn’t yours.

.

JUNGKOOK

Christmas Eve—Busan

Jungkook’s tie is too tight around his neck. He swore to his mother that it was fine but her being as stubborn as she was, made sure to secure it so that not even she could move it. He pulls at his collar and his older brother, Junghyun laughs at him.

“You look like a little kid, pulling and tugging at that you know,” Junghyun eyes Jungkook and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s suffocating hyung—I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” Jungkook responds with a laugh.

It was their annual Christmas Eve party held by their father’s company and it was just as stuffy and rich as Jungkook remembers. Jungkook and his brother didn’t speak much about their wealth. They had both grown up with more money, toys, clothes, shoes, and vacations that they ever needed. They never once complained as they both know how incredibly lucky they were to have already lived 5 lives before turning 30. They did however, understand how tiring this lifestyle was.

Perhaps it is why neither Jungkook or Junghyun pursued business as a major—neither one wanted to have this much to handle on their plate. Thankfully, despite most of the people that associated with the Jeon family—their mother and father were humble and respected their sons’ decisions to make their own path. If it were up to their mother though, should would have her sons closer to Busan than so far away.

“Well, the night is still young,” his brother speaks again, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne.

“There you two are,” Yeri—Junghyun’s soulmate and partner appears from what seems to be out of thin air. “Hi my love,” she smiles up at Junghyun as he pulls her closer to his hip. “Jungkook, how are you?”  

“Pretty good, my tie is too tight,” he pouts.  

Yeri observes Jungkook, “I think it looks good?” She looks back up at his brother and he nods in agreement.

“I know, he’s just a baby,”  he remarks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.  

“Anyways, your mother is looking for you two—we’re about to eat dinner,” she informs and both of the brother’s nod.  

Jungkook follows closely behind them, weaving in and out of people to get to their designated table. Jungkook only recognizes a handful of people he passes even though they know exactly who he is. They find their table, their parents already seated and ready for dinner.

Jungkook smiles when he sees his mother, bending down to hug her.

“Hello Jungkook, Junghyun,” she greets her sons, “Yeri, please sit!”

He takes a seat right of his mom, Junghyun and Yeri to his left. His father is busy speaking with a business partner at the table to pay much attention to them. Jungkook grew up used to that though—his father always overworking himself, barely getting home before they had to go to bed. Despite this, he was still a great father in Jungkook’s eyes, providing and making them laugh every chance he got.

“What’s for dinner, Mrs. Jeon?” Yeri asks. Jungkook’s mother loved Yeri the moment she set her eyes on her all those years ago and nothing has changed.

“Oh, we’re having a little bit of everything—bulgogi, samgyeopsal, jajangmyeon, kimchi. I hope it’s good, we had to get a new caterer this year,” a sudden worry falls over he face but she quickly brushes it away.

“Perfect, I’m starved,” Jungkook mumbles, once again, mindlessly tugging at his collar. Jungkook’s mom swats his hand away.

“Quit it, you’re fine,” she scolds him and he settles in his seat, picking up his newly poured glass of red wine. It was true—he was starved and if he didn’t get food in his system quickly, he would probably become tipsy from a singular glass of champagne and wine.

The food arrives at each table in an orderly fashion as everyone finally takes their seats. A few words of thanks are spoken before everyone digs in, placing various meats on the grills in front of them. Commotion and chatter quickly fill the large hall. Jungkook is busy stuffing his mouth with noodles when suddenly his name is spoken across the table.

“Jungkook,” his father addresses him. He swallows his food quickly before raising an eyebrow in response. “You remember Mr. Kim, Seokjin’s father?”

The mention of Seokjin brings a wash of memories over Jungkook’s brain. He was an older kid that him and Junghyun used to play around with growing up.

“Yes, of course,” Jungkook slightly smiles to the elder.

“I can’t believe you’re almost done with university,” Mr. Kim compliments Jungkook, “What are you majoring in again?”

“Sports medicine,” Jungkook says feeling slightly intimidated by his stare. Suddenly Mr. Kim’s eyes glance down to Jungkook’s hand and he suddenly feels self conscious about his the ink colored on his fingers. He quickly retracts his hand under the table before he speaks again.

“Well that’s really good to hear,” he smiles warmly again, “Are you planning on furthering your education past undergrad?”

“Yes sir,” he nods, “I plan to pursue a sports physician or therapist within the next few years.”

He looks over at Jungkook’s father, “I don’t think your sons could be any more opposite than you and I,” he laughs and Jungkook’s father nods with a small smile.

“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters,” his father says. Jungkook glances at Junghyun, hoping he was paying some attention to the conversation so Jungkook could continue eating. He wasn’t.

“Yes I see,” Mr. Kim nods, “They will do good for themselves and their partners, I’m sure of it.”

The mention of the word partner gets Jungkook’s mother’s attention.

“Oh yes, Junghyun and Yeri have recently leased a house in Seoul,” she smiles proudly at her eldest. It was true—Junghyun was a practicing lawyer and Yeri was a court reporter so they were doing pretty well off even though they haven’t reached 30 yet.

“If only they could hurry up and get married,” she then adds with a laugh. Junghyun looks over and he grimaces, though no ill intent by the stare.

“Mom, we’ve told you. We’re settling our house and finances for another year or so, then we are,” he responds swiftly.

“Well, then it seems like Jungkook is due next,” Mr. Kim adds into the mix. Suddenly, Jungkook tenses up and his face falls. Oh how he wish you were here right now so he wasn’t alone in this.

“Well Jungkook does have a partner, right?” His mom looks over at him. Jungkook had mentioned you to his mom and dad but that was it—so this is news for Junghyun and Yeri who were carefully listening to his words. Jungkook was 22 after all—the clock was ticking.

“Yes mom,” he nods, “I invited her to Busan with me for the holidays but she decided to stay back home,” he explains.

“Ah, that’s too bad, we would have loved to meet her,” Mr. Kim says, “Next time though?’

Jungkook nods, a small smile present, “Next time.”

The conversation thankfully dies after that. As much as Jungkook wanted to talk about you—he was so hesitant for well, obvious reasons. His mom had the most questions about you and he answered all of them to her liking. She seemed to think their souls were bonded and wasn’t that the point he was trying to make? He wanted his mom to love you like he did and he was confident she would by the way her eyes lit up when he spoke about you.

“She seems lovely Jungkook,” she says, “And you just met her this year? After all this time?”

After all this time—yeah right. “Yeah, we had a class together.”

“Well I for one cannot wait to meet her,” she smiles taking a sip of her wine, “You should invite her again when you two graduate, you know we have to have a party to celebrate.”

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry but he nods quickly, just wanting to focus on the dessert that was being place in front of him.

“She would love that,” is all he says before he digs into his cheesecake. After a few glasses of wine, Jungkook had felt himself become a little tipsy and he knew he needed to slow down if he wanted to enjoy Christmas morning.

After he finishes his sweet treat, he excuses himself to get some water. As much as he hates these kinds of things, he wishes he had his camera to capture some memories—even though it was his first Christmas with you despite being separated by hundreds of kilometers.

He reaches the beverage table, quickly asking for a glass of water when suddenly he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me?” A girls voice asks, “Would you mind getting me a glass of Chardonnay?”

He glances at the girl before nodding, asking for a glass to hand to her. The server hands Jungkook a wine glass and he turns around to see the girl for the first time. He’s slightly taken aback from her beauty. She’s got warm brown hair that flows down her chest, welcoming eyes, and a smile that he swears sparkled in the light.

“Thank you,” her eyes met his and he feels his chest tightening the longer he looks at her. As much as he wants to look away—he physically is unable. She seems to feel the same because he doesn’t know how much time has passed of them staring at each other before someone calls out to her.

She glances to her right, raising her glass as another thanks before walking away from Jungkook. His eyes follow her as her back turns to him. She’s wearing a simple purple dress with sleeves and heels that make her legs look long and lean.

He shakes his head out of his trance-like state, what the fuck? He takes another gulp of his water—it has to be alcohol getting to him. He’s about to head back to his parent’s table when he suddenly feels an itching on the inside of his left wrist. He scratches his skin harshly and he winces when it’s more painful than a normal scratch.

He glances down at his sleeve, pulling the material back to see what was so painful. He does a double take when he moves his watch, noticing harsh red lines forming on skin. The fuck, he thinks to himself. Jungkook makes the decision to excuse himself to the men’s room to cool the burning off with some water.

Thankfully he’s the only person occupying the room and he quickly turns on the water, running his skin underneath it. The burning subsides after a few moments and as he’s reaching for a towel to dry himself, he drops it to the floor before he can even use it.

While the red marks have gone away, a thin black line has replaced them.

Rose.

He blinks heavily, shaking his head. Is he really that drunk? He takes his nail to scratch at the black and when it doesn’t move, his mouth parts and the tie around his neck feels even more constricting.

“No,” he whispers to himself.

Rose.

It’s still there.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles, “Fuck,” his breathing picks up heavily and he looks at himself in the mirror. His face is pale and his eyes are blown out. Fuck.

Rose.

He moves his watch back over the marking and runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the ends harder than he should. He almost feels tears threatening to fall when he realizes what’s happening. This has to be a sick joke? The universe cannot be doing this—not right now—not after all this fucking time?

As much as his mind is racing, drunk and confusion do not make a good combination, he sees one thing for sure in the back of his brain. You. As this thought, his stomach churns deeply and before he realizes it—he’s spitting up some of his food and alcohol into the toilet.

“Fuck,” he says again wiping the perspiration away from his clammy hands onto his pants. He takes in a deep breath, freshening himself up before he leaves the bathroom with the mission to find one person and one person only.

Once he comes back into the main room, his eyes glance around quickly for a head of silky brown hair and a purple dress. His head looks around rapidly and anyone who saw him probably thought that he looked crazy. He spots Junghyun and Yeri getting another drink at the bar and he swiftly walks over towards them.

“Hyung,” Jungkook speaks quickly, shaking his brother’s shoulder.

“Huh? Jungkook, you okay?” His brother notices how ill Jungkook looks. Face pale, hair messily pushed around, uneasiness in his large eyes.

“Have you seen a girl,” he pauses trying to slow down, “Purple dress, kind of ashy brown hair to here,” he demonstrates the length with his hands. Junghyun looks at Jungkook like he’s crazy. Hell, maybe Jungkook is going crazy.

Junghyun shakes his head, “No I haven’t. What’s up?”

“I may have seen a purple dress going that way,” Yeri points her finger towards the other side of the large room. “Jungkook are you sure you’re okay?”

He doesn’t even give them one more glance before he thanks Yeri quickly, turning on his heels to head that direction. He nearly trips on his feet trying to get across the masses of people congregating. The ballroom has a couple hallways that lead off into other rooms and he decides his luck, checking in and out of the rooms. He’s coming up empty until he stops dead in his tracks, a back clad in purple facing him, talking to another man with blonde hair.

Suddenly, the blonde looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder and she follows. Her eyes meet Jungkook’s and he fills his breath hitching, his stomaching rolling once again.

“Hello?” The blonde asks curiously.

“Hi,” Jungkook steps forward. His hands are buried deep in his dress pants so they can’t see the way they shake with every breath.

“Yoongi, will you get me another drink please?” The girl speaks looking back at the man. He nods, settling not to say anything else as he brushes past Jungkook.

The girl stands awkwardly, her finger rimming an empty wine glass slowly. Jungkook can barely look at her but something is compelling him to. He can’t take his eyes off of her—she’s beautiful. He slowly walks towards her with some hesitation. She finally meets his eyes again and she visibly breathes in deep through her nose, her chest rising.

“Hi,” Jungkook says again.

“Hi,” she says with a low tone. She bites her lip nervously and she suddenly looks around the room—anywhere but him. “This place is really beautiful isn’t it?”

Jungkook follows her lead, eyes glancing around the room too, “Yeah, it is.”

“Your parents know how to put on a party,” she muses with a small laugh. Goddamn, he thinks, she is so beautiful. So, she knows exactly who he is.

“This is nothing compared to some other years,” he gently smiles when her lips turn up, her cheeks getting bigger with her own smile.

A silence falls between the two of them. She sways in her heels trying to relieve the pain in the balls of her feet.

“It’s you isn’t it,” Jungkook speaks first. She looks up at him, still saying silent. “You’re Rose?”

She dips her head, some of her hair falling in her face. She nods slowly, “I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers and she almost sounds sad, perhaps broken? “After all this time,” she adds.

She looks at Jungkook like he’s her whole universe. Oh how he wishes he could say the same thing about her—it’s what this beautiful girl deserves. She deserves someone whose heart beats for them and them only. That wasn’t Jungkook—he had you and god how much he wanted to spend his life with you only.

“When did you find out?” He asks keeping his voice low and steady so his nervousness won’t show through.

“When I was fourteen,” she says. His heart sinks even further for this girl. His name had been engraved upon her skin for 8 years.

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to look down at his feet. The tension is there—the tension the universe gives soul bonded people. He feels his tie suffocating him again and he reaches up to loosen it again, to no relief though.

Suddenly, Rose steps forward, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to move it away from his collar.

“Let me help,” she says and he swears his heart stops beating when her delicate fingers touch his. Rose manages to undo his impossibly tight neck tie from his mother, retying it just as fast, but a lot more comfortable for him and his neck. Suddenly, Jungkook is glad you were unable to come to Busan with him.

“Thanks,” he laughs, “It’s been suffocating me all night.”

“I could tell,” she returns a chuckle, her palms resting on his chest. She’s just as nervous as he is—he can see the way she breathes unevenly being this close to her.

“I’m Jungkook,” he says.

“Rose.”  

.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” You ask Jungkook as you step into his apartment. If possible, Jungkook came back with thrice as much stuff as he left with and you wanted to help him unpack.  

“Pretty good,” he says simply, “I think my parents were disappointed you weren’t there,” he chuckles lightly. Jungkook’s roommates were still back home, not coming back until the new year, so you were going to stay with him to keep him company.

“Well, one day I’ll meet them,” your eyes search for his and he seems somewhat off. He hasn’t said much since you’ve picked him up from the train station. His eyes have looked a little lost, unsure of where to look.

“Yeah,” he shrugs off his coat and begins to unzip one of his 3 suitcases. You unzip a second, noticing how different his clothes smell.

“I see your mom did your laundry?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course, what kind of son would I be if I didn’t bring all my laundry for my mom to do?”

Small conversation is said between the two of you as you unpack, fold, and hang up his clothes. You can’t help but notice the luxury men’s wear tags in the pants and shirts you hang up.

“What do your parents do Jungkook?” Your thumb brushes over the thick material of a new coat he received as a gift.

He’s hesitant to speak but he decides to tell you anyways, “My dad is president of a large company back in Busan. You know my mom is an artist,” he says and you recall the days he’s spoke highly of his creative mother.

Ah, you think, now you understand where the wealth comes from.

“I don’t like telling people because I don’t want people to think I’m some spoiled snob,” he laughs at the thought.

“Babe, you’re the farthest thing from that. You know work hard for things you want, what does it matter what anyone else thinks,” you hang the last piece of clothing from his suitcase up and he watches you intently.

He leans against his desk, arms crossed as he watches you carefully.

“Wanna see something I got,” he says clearing his throat as you look him in the eyes. His eyes quickly look away from yours, unable to face you fully just yet. You nod when you notice his eyes light up as he rummages through his duffle bag to pull out a new camera.

“Holy shit,” you admire the piece of technology as he holds it carefully in his hands. “Who got you this?”

“My brother if you could believe it,” he sounds like he doesn’t even believe his brother was capable of gifting him such a nice present.

“Damn,” you mutter, “Have you used it yet?”

He nods, “I played around with it at the beach before I left,” he says looking at your subtle smile. “Here, lemme take a picture of you,” he smiles a little wider.

“What? Jungkook I look disgusting,” you step away from him. Your hair is thrown up on your head, no makeup, and an oversized ratted turtleneck covers your frame.

“Baby come on you’re beautiful,” he pouts while adjusting the lens and other settings. “Please I wanna remember this.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Remember what? The remnants of my illness that’s made me look crusty for days now?”

He laughs at you, “Sure, whatever you wanna call it,” he holds up his camera to see the lighting on you. “Sit down and scoot back,” he commands to you. You do as he says, sitting on his bed and scooting so your back is hilt against the wall.

“Here?”

He nods, “Mhm,” he focuses on adjusting the last of what he needs to before he says, “Smile babe, you’re on camera.”

You give him a glare before your features soften, giving him a small smile as you look directly into the lens. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s through the lens and he feels his chest tighten. He hated this—he was so in love with you he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You were his present and future—he didn’t want anyone else. How could the universe break him like this?

He snaps a couple photos before looking at them in the small frame. A small smile lets loose on his lips as his heart palpitates for you. He feels your eyes watching him closely and you’re unsure why—despite his smile—he seems so sad and so unsure.

Whatever is bothering him, you could only hope that he would open up to you soon and not suppress his feelings.

Jungkook’s only hope right now is cherishing these moments with you because as he has come to learn in the past few days—nothing good ever lasts.

.

Your phone was buzzing and buzzing annoying you to your core as you tried your best to shove your dangly earrings in your ears. You look down at the caller ID and you roll your eyes with a groan.

“Fuck Taehyung we’re coming!” You half yell at your phone that was still buzzing on your desk. Hearing ruckus in your room, Jungkook peeps in.

“You good babe?” He asks taking notice of how your room is practically flipped upside down. Clothes and jewelry are sprung around and the dress you have decided to wear isn’t even zipped yet, your lower back fully exposed to him.

“Yes,” you say finally slipping the plastic backs on your earrings. You look over your shoulder at Jungkook, heat rushing to your face when you realize how good he looks tonight. “Will you zip me up?”

He nods taking a step towards you, his fingertips cold against your skin. He slowly zips the beaded material up your back slowly not wanting to catch any strings. When he’s done, he wraps his arms around your front pulling you close to him.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles into your neck and you keen into his arms, your feet already blistering in your heels.

“You look sexy,” you muse with a giggle. He turns your body around to flush against his front and he quickly leans down to capture your lips. He’s slow and gentle, wanting you to know how much he cherishes you. He’s careful not to put a hand in your hair knowing how frustrated you were trying to fix it right, so he cradles your neck in one of his hands as you lean into him deeper.

You jump slightly in his arms when your phone starts buzzing again. Jungkook steps away from you and you groan loudly again.

“Remind me to kill him when we get in the car,” you punctuate as you grab your bag and the baby blue coat Taehyung gave you.

“Will do,” Jungkook gives you a wink before grasping your hand into his tightly.

New Years Eve was always a fun time in your friend group, especially at your age. Ever since you started university, you and Taehyung had made it tradition to go to one of the fancier bars in your area for the special occasion. Only having to pay an upfront free—it meant an open bar, free music, and a damn good time.

“Goddamn Y/N,” Taehyung says as you’re waiting in line to get in the bar.

“What? Is there something on my face? My teeth?” You panic looking at your best friend.

“No,” he pauses looking at your date up and down, “You really lucked out didn’t you.”

Jungkook suddenly laughs as his comment and you swat Taehyung’s head.

“Hey back off buddy,” you say wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s torso, “He’s mine asshole.”

“And you’re mine,” Jimin eyes Taehyung playfully. Taehyung had already drank half a bottle of champagne in the car ride from your apartment so he was definitely feeling frisky. It was absolutely freezing outside tonight and Jungkook made sure to keep his arms around you as you waited and waited outside.

“What’s going to be your drink of choice tonight Kook?” You look up at your boyfriend who looks so unbelievable handsome you could cry.

“Hmm, I’m thinking whatever will get me very drunk. Perhaps whiskey?”

Your face contorts at the mention of the dark liquor. Too many bad memories with that one.

“Lemme guess,” Jimin says, “You’re going to down about five green tea shots and then switch over to vodka soda with a splash of cranberry juice.”

Your eyes widen, slightly perturbed, “Am I that basic of a bitch?”

Jimin nods once, “Babe I’m a bartender, we can see girls like you coming from a mile away.”

“Ugh, fine you got me. But maybe instead of vodka soda I’ll just do a flat.” Truth is, you hadn’t drank since your sick spell over Christmas and you were more than ready to get drunk.

A few more minutes and you’re in the crowded bar. You stay close to Jungkook, his hand secured around yours as you make your way to the bar. As expected, you order green tea shots and Jungkook lives up to his previous statement—ordering a whiskey sour to start his night.

You’ve never seen this many people here before. It’s loud, hot, and crowded but it’s everything you could want for New Years Eve. Besides, what’s the fun in going out if it’s not going to be a little chaotic?

After a few drinks, Jungkook finds himself relaxing as he dances close to you. He’s happy right here and right now, but he can’t fully let go—his mind occupied of another woman. He hates himself for doing this, but what is he supposed to do? He’s careful around his arms, making sure his watch stays put and he sleeve doesn’t venture too far up just in case.

Your smile is wide and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Sure, it was scary now that you were starting your last semester of college in a week but since you had Jungkook—you felt more secure in whatever life decides to throw at you than ever.

“I love you,” you say to Jungkook. It’s simple but you could tell him every minute of everyday and not get tired of it.  

“I love you more,” he says. He’s honest and he only hopes you can’t see the deep sadness in his eyes. He kisses the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up at the feeling. “Do you want another drink?” He asks.

You nod, “Yes please.”

“Vodka cran?”  

You nod once again, “I’ll be with Taehyung over there.”

Jungkook leaves you behind, walking back towards the bar. If he really was going to try to forget his worries—he was going to need something stronger.

“Two shots of whiskey please,” he says. He’ll get your drink when he’s finished so the ice won’t water it down.

“I didn’t take you for a whiskey guy,” a voice comes from his left and when he looks, he feels his whole world stopping.

“R-Rose?” He blinks, making sure he’s seeing correctly.

“I thought it was you over here,” she smiles asking the bartender for a shot of tequila. “How are you?”

He’s speechless. How? Right now?

“Doing well, how are you?” He asks trying to seem sly. God he could only hope that no one he knew, especially you, saw him right now.

“Same, I’m mentally preparing for my hangover tomorrow,” she laughs before downing her shot quickly.

He smiles, “I feel that,” he downs his first shot. It’s hot and it’s burning his throat. “Listen I’ve been meaning to text you but—“

“Don’t worry about it,” she waves her hand, “I mean what are the odds of us being here together? That’s worth more than a text right?”

He swallows, “Y-you’re right. I didn’t know you lived here.”

She nods, her gaze heavy and somewhat obscene, “I go to the all girls university in the area.”

“Ah, I see,” Jungkook says glancing around. Thankfully the copious amount of people have shielded him from anyone’s view.

“Are you here anyone tonight?” Fuck.

“Just some friends,” he says smoothly. “You?”

“Same. My roommates made me come, but now I’m glad I did,” she smiles brightly and Jungkook can himself falling deep into the hole again. Fuck the fucking universe.

“Me too,” he says before he can catch himself. Her eyes glance down to his lips before she looks back up at him.

“Well, I need to get back to my friends before we get fully separated,” she smiles again, “Come say hi if you see me again,” she winks.

He nods, his eyes wide and mouth dry. “Will do.”

He downs the second shot as she walks away, his eyes unable to rip from her frame. Jungkook was in deep shit—no doubting that. There was only so much longer he could keep up this facade. He was heartbroken to the core and as much as he wanted to be selfish and forget about the name attached to his wrist—that wasn’t plausible. It was a reality he had to face sooner or later.

“Fuck,” he says, ordering your drink before he forgets and another shot of whiskey for the hell of it. There was no getting Rose off his mind now but he could at least try. He knew one thing though—once the clock struck midnight, he was ripping you out of this bar faster than a racehorse.

“Oh my god thank you,” you drunkenly smile up at Jungkook when he comes back with your drink. In your intoxicated state, you don’t notice Jungkook’s demeanor change as much as other people do. Specifically Jimin, who is standing off from your side, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Jungkook looks nervous, tense, and unsure about his surroundings. Jimin was curious about what happened to him in the last five minutes of him being gone.

“Oh shit you guys, it’s almost midnight!” Taehyung yells throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

“What are you gonna wish for?” You gaze up at Jungkook as he throws an arm around your frame protectively.

“Is that a thing babe?” He questions, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Of course it is!” You say, your expression wide and full of disbelief. “I mean I always do it.”

Jungkook leans down and pecks your forehead, his vision fuzzier now that the 3 shots of whiskey have been through his system, “Well I’ll make a wish then, just for you.”

“You better,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. The clock hits 11:59 PM and the countdown to the new year begins.

Jungkook’s grip tightens around you, afraid that if he lets go you’ll find out his deepest secret and run away from him forever. You lean your head on his chest, unknowing of anything that’s bothering him deep down. You inhale his scent, his laundry and cologne intoxicating you even further.

Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!

You look up at Jungkook with another beautiful smile and he leans down to close the short gap between you two. The cheers around you drown out as you focus on each other. One of your hands pulls him down from the back of his hair closer to you, smiling into the kiss.

You wish for nothing to change—you were happy and had your partner—that’s all you could ever wish for.

Jungkook wishes for things to change—to go back to normal—but he was afriad that there wasn’t going to be a normal for you two ever again.

Jungkook makes love to you that night like you have never experienced. Every kiss, every touch, every breath is so slow and calculated. He thrusts deep and hard into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips. You both are drunk but if anything that makes it all the better. You two are fully relaxed in each other’s arms and it was just you and him in that moment. He makes you come two, three, and by the fourth time you can’t breathe. His hands grip your waist and under your ass pushing himself possibly deeper into you.

You hold his face close to yours as he drowns out your half screams and moans with his lips. When he finally comes after holding back to relish each second of his cock being inside of you, it’s the most glorious orgasm he’s ever had.

“Fuck—“ you cut him off with your lips as he stills inside of you. “I love you,” he breathes out heavily, collapsing on his elbows.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

He kisses your collarbone and around your neck, trying to hold back his tears threatening to fall.

“I love you more,” is the last thing he says that night before you two drift off into sleep. He means every word.

.

University starts back up a couple weeks after New Years. Your final round of classes were starting off great—most of them being bullshit electives. You were going to enjoy your last semester here and you refused to waste yourself away in school work before hitting the “real world.” You didn’t have any classes with Jungkook or Namjoon this semester which was somewhat of a bummer but you would survive.

Jungkook wasn’t doing good to say the least. He was stressed more and more each day. He barely had a good nights sleep in weeks—waking up every few hours thinking about two very different girls in his life. He had begun to converse with Rose over text message so he didn’t seem like a grade-A asshole. Every time he sent or received a text back, his stomach churned and his heart yearned. He couldn’t help himself—this is how the universe works. It was the hardest thing for him to keep a secret like this from you. He hated lying to you and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do it.

He turned to his photography more than ever in the past few weeks. His hobby slowly becoming his life to distract him from his actual problems. It’s how he found himself early out in the morning, before 7 AM to be exact, shooting the sunrise from a river about ten minutes from his apartment. He was playing with his new toy and lenses that Junghyun had gifted him, loving the camera the more shots he snapped. He didn’t have class until noon and he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.

It was quiet and peaceful. He loved the countryside and this spot reminded him of back home. It was freezing to say the least and he quickly threw on his gloves before he went through his recent captures.

“Jungkook?” His name leaves a female and his chest twists—recognizing who it is immediately. He looks away from his camera, Rose approaching him from his right. She’s wearing leggings and a thick jacket with running shoes.

“H-hey,” he drops his camera some, “What are you doing up this early?” He asks as she stops in front of him.

“I could ask the same to you,” she smiles breathing heavily. She looks down at his camera before looking back up at his face, “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go on a run to clear my head.”

He nods slowly, “The best way to clear your head indeed,” he muses. “Same though, to answer your question. Couldn’t sleep and I figured I would come takes some pictures.”

She hesitates before asking her next question, “Can I see?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately, looking down at his camera nervously.

“O-only if you want to though,” she adds picking up on his secluded frame.

His eyes soften and his shoulders drop, “No, it’s fine, here.” He clicks around the buttons to bring up the most recent pictures of the sunrise, the river, and it’s reflection.

“Wow,” Rose whispers, smoke following her words as they hit the cold air as he clicks through each one, “These are great Jungkook.”

He smiles shyly, glancing down her frame, “Thanks.” She’s shorter than you are, her head barely hitting his shoulder.

“Have you been taking pictures for long?” She looks up at him when he’s done showing the pictures.

“A few years now,” he says, “It’s my favorite thing to do with my free time.”

“Well from what I can see you’re really talented,” she smiles, “You should do it professionally.”

He blushes, “A man can only wish,” he laughs, fog coming from his lips too.

A silence falls between the two of them. Jungkook isn’t sure what to do and Rose looks around the area, only a handful of people in the surrounding vicinity.

“Hey I was about to go to this café down the street, wanna come with?” She asks. Jungkook is taken aback by her offer. He notices a sadness behind her eyes and he bites the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The café is small and quiet. It smells of espresso and pastries. Jungkook orders himself a coffee with cream and sugar while Rose decides to get some type of iced drink.

“It’s below freezing and you’re drinking iced coffee?” He quirks a brow at her as they sit down beside the main window.

She shrugs, “I love iced coffee more than I love myself.”

He smiles, sipping on his hot coffee slowly not wanting to burn his tongue. Another silence falls between them and Jungkook takes this time to study her more. She’s petite and gorgeous. She’s the type of girl he grew up crushing over. In the few conversations they’ve had,  he knows they are very much alike. Each day talking to her and seeing her pop up in random places in his life proved to him this wasn’t a fluke. Rose was his soulmate and Jungkook was hers. That’s the fucking reality and it fucking sucks for him. He could see himself falling for Rose quicker than anyone else before—that’s what is supposed to happen anyways. But he had you—he didn’t want anyone else. You were his end all be all, not Rose.

“Jungkook,” she speaks lowly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Are you seeing someone right now?”

Her question makes his heart rate speed up.

“W-what?” His mouth is dry despite the coffee, “H-how—?”

“One of my friends on New Years saw you leave with a girl,” her voice breaks off. Shit.

“I,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “It’s complicated.”

Complicated?! He was in a committed relationship that was approaching 6 months!

“I’d rather you tell me the truth than lie Jungkook,” she says. “We’re soulmates, we’re supposed to open up to each other.”

He furrows his eyebrows deeply, “It’s not that easy Rose. I just met you almost month ago.”

His words cut her deep but she stands her ground.

“I get that but,” she pauses, “I just don’t want you and whoever you’re seeing to be hurt. I’m sure you knows what happens when—“

“Yes. I know,” he says. He’s already seen it—you’ve already experienced it. The constant up and down sickness from you was just one side effect of a bonded soul that stays with one who isn’t bonded to them.

“Do you love her?” She asks.

“With everything in me,” he answers honestly. She looks away from her soulmate, unsure of how to feel. She had been waiting for him for 8 years. She was expecting her happy ever after. The last thing she thought would happen is that her soulmate would be in love with someone else. Processing this information was going to difficult for her and she couldn’t begin to imagine what Jungkook was going through right now.

“Have you told her?”

He shakes his head slowly, “No.”

She purses her lips, squeezing her cup a little too hard, “I’m not telling you how to go about this Jungkook, but if you really loved her, why are you continuing to hurt her?”  

.

“Taehyung we have to talk right now,” Jimin says into his phone.

“Baby it’s not even 8 AM,” Taehyung’s morning voice is deeper than his actual voice.

“No—like Taehyung it’s urgent.”

Taehyung is beginning to worry what could possibly be going on.

“Is everything okay?” He asks sitting up in his bed, pushing the hair from his face.

“No,” he says, “Not at all.”

Jimin hangs up the phone and makes his way to Taehyung’s apartment. He half jogs, unable to keep up with his feet. Jimin’s mind is racing as he begins to piece his suspicions together.

“Good morning,” Jimin enters the apartment, a shiver going down his back as he steps into the significantly warmer apartment. Jimin glances around the apartment, his eyes frantic. “Y/N isn’t here, is she?”

Taehyung watches his boyfriend with tired eyes like a hawk. “No, why would she be here?”

Jimin nods quickly, “When did she first get sick?”

“Whoa, Jimin what’s going on?” Taehyung holds his hands up, his brain still not fully functioning.

“Just answer the damn question.”

“Uh, Christmas morning, early in the morning.”

“And has she been sick since then?”

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, “Um, she mentioned being sick the day after New Years. Jimin this is stupid, she was hungover both days—“

“Do you know who this girl is?” Jimin pulls out his phone, pulling up a picture of Jungkook and a girl neither of them knew sitting at a small cafe across from each other.

“Where did you get this?” Taehyung asks taking his phone to zoom in on the pic.

“This morning,” he says, “I went to the gym and saw those two together.”

“What does this mean? Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?!” Taehyung feels himself begin to get angry, handing the phone back to Jimin.

“Well according to Hoseok, the bartender from New Years I sometimes see around asked who the girl Jungkook was cuddled up to at the bar on New Years… and it wasn’t Y/N.”

Taehyung’s face clenches, “W-what? I don’t understand what you’re getting at Jimin. Is Jungkook cheating on Y/N?” He asks again.

“Taehyung, don’t you get it?” Jimin asks running a hand through his hair, “I study this stuff for fucksakes! This,” he holds up his phone of the picture again, “She’s Jungkook’s soulmate, Tae.”

His mouth parts open, “H-how are you so sure?”

“I don’t know the full story but I’m guessing a name came up on Jungkook over Christmas and destiny brought them together after being apart for so long…”

“A name? Jimin, Jungkook is 22 like Y/N… they don’t—“

“Late bloomers—it’s rare, but it happens Taehyung.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes out, fully awake now, “So Jungkook has a soulmate and hasn’t told Y/N I’m assuming.”

Jimin nods, “I’m sure of it. She needs to know Taehyung—it’ll only get worse for her the longer Jungkook stays with her,” his voice trails off. Jimin cared for you as much as anyone close to you and he knew the consequences of tangoing with someone else who was soul bonded.

“I’m gonna kill Jungkook,” Taehyung grips his hair harshly, “When should we tell her?”

Jimin hesitates but speaking after thinking about what could happen to you the more Jungkook hides his secret, “The sooner the better.”

.

“Babe I don’t know how to do this,” you whine as you stares at a knife and a half open salmon. Jungkook laughs at your attempt to filet the fish for your dinner together.

“It’s not that hard Y/N,” he says pointedly, coming to aid your aid. In one motion, Jungkook manages to remove the skin from the fish.

You roll your eyes at him, “Why are you so fucking good at everything?”

“I’m just that talented,” he gives you a side eye before throwing the fish into the marinade. “Are you sure you want to salmon by the way? I know you’re still not feeling the best.”

“Jungkook it’s fine—I’m not going to get sick from this,” you hoped at least, “Plus you love it and I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.”

It was true—today marked your sixth months with Jungkook. January was brutally cold and quickly passed. Now the beginning of February wasn’t any warmer, but it did mark that spring was coming soon.

You couldn’t believe you had been with Jungkook for sixth months. Six months had come and gone like that. It was odd being in a committed relationship for this long when two people weren’t soulmates—but frankly, you were sure Jungkook was your soulmate so it didn’t really matter anyways.

As Jungkook watched you whip up some rice and veggies to go on the side, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guiltier than fuck. It had just been over a month since he meet Rose and to put it shortly—the universe was fucking trying it. No matter where he went, she always seemed to be there. They texted at least a few times everyday, obviously keeping it to himself. Rose was being patient, as she was trying her best to understand Jungkook’s situation, though he had a gut feeling she didn’t want to wait around much longer for him. Time was running out for Jungkook and it was running out faster than he ever wished it do be.  

You and Jungkook finish and eat dinner together on the couch. Sure he had a small dining room table but it was tradition for the two of you to cuddle up on the couch together for your meals. Plus, his roommates weren’t home so you may as well make yourself comfy.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask Jungkook when he goes silent for a few moments. As much as you loved Jungkook, you knew something had been bothering him for weeks that he hadn’t opened up to you about. If it was something he really wanted to open up with you about, he would have already and you felt it wasn’t your place to prod. When he was ready, he would be ready you suppose.

“Hm?” his doe eyes look into yours before glancing away, “Nothing much… I just can’t believe we’re graduating in three months,” he laughs shaking his head in disbelief.

You agreed with him, “Crazy right… are you scared?”

He looks down at your legs that are draped across his, “Yeah, I am.”

A look falls on his face that you can’t read. He’s blank on the outside but you’re sure deep down whatever he’s thinking about is torturing him.

“Jungkook,” you nudge him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks with a grimace.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just feel like something has been bothering you.”

He bows his head and you’re sure he’s about to be fully honest with you until he says, “I’m just stressed babe.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Stressed you can believe—but what? School? Family? Us?

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you Jungkook,” you say. You can visibly see his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth.

“If I wanted you to know don’t you think I would fucking tell you Y/N?” he snaps and it makes you jump in your position, “Don’t be so goddamn nosy if it’s none of your business.”

Jungkook stands up from the couch and your mouth parts at his words. Not only are you taken aback, but you can’t believe Jungkook actually spoke to you like that.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” you stand up and make your way towards him. He’s lean against the counter, his head down. “Jungkook, hey, what the fuck?” you ask him, beginning to get more and more frustrated as each second passes.

He lifts his head to look at you, a pained expression on his features, “Look I’m sorry—“

He’s cut off by heavy knocks on your door. Neither of were expecting anyone and if it was his roommates, they would have just used their keys. Your eyes follow Jungkook when he goes and opens the door. What happens next goes by so fast you weren’t even sure it happened until Jungkook is stumbling backwards, a groan emitting from his lips.

“Taehyung?!” you nearly scream rushing over to Jungkook, “What the fuck?! What are you doing?!” Taehyung walks into the apartment with Jimin close behind him.

“Ow, fuck man,” Jungkook holds his cheek in pain. Taehyung didn’t look like he had much power but he just proved himself wrong.

“Have you told her yet,” Taehyung speaks, looking straight at Jungkook, “Or are you still lying to her?”

You look between the two of them, your mind racing and confused.

“Told me what? Taehyung what the fuck are you doing, are you crazy?!” you yell at him again.

Jungkook and Taehyung continue to glare at each other. Jungkook notices Jimin staring too and he knows—it’s over.

“Not right now Taehyung,” Jungkook says angrily. You whip your head over Jungkook again. What’s going on?!

“Told me what?” you ask looking back over at Taehyung and then Jungkook again, “Told me what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him.

“Y/N,” Jungkook says, his eyes full of a wave of sadness. Your heart begins to race, your hands clammy and you feel like you might get sick again.

“What’s going on Jungkook?” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You know something isn’t right, otherwise this would not be happening right now.

“I was gonna tell you,” Jungkook’s voice breaks off as he comes closer to you, taking your hands in his, “I just didn’t know how.”

You feel a tear come down your face, “Baby what’s happening?”

“Hurry the fuck up,” Taehyung spits, “We don’t have all night.”

“Taehyung,” Jimin scolds him from behind.

Jungkook doesn’t break his gaze with you as he lets go of your hands. He pulls the sleeve of his left sweatshirt, moving his silver watch back in the process. When your eyes fall onto it—the name—it feels like you’ve been shot in the chest. Your breathing picks up and you look back into Jungkook’s eyes.

You shake your head, “No, no, no,” you mumble, “This is a joke right? This has to be a fucking joke,” the tears are now falling in rhythmic streams down your face.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook says, tears now welling his eyes eyes, “Y/N I love you so much—“

“How long have you known?” you step away from him, feeling light headed and queazy. He doesn’t answer until you press again. “How long have you fucking known Jungkook?!”

“Over a month,” his voice drops and you don’t ever think you’ve felt the sharp pains shooting in your chest until now.

“Y/N,” Jimin speaks this time, “I think you should come with us.”

“You’ve been lying to me all this time?” you ignore Jimin, your voice cracking on the edges.

“Y/N, no baby please,” he steps towards you, his hands finding your face, “I-I didn’t know what to d-do. I l-love you and you only you, nothing will ever change that,” Jungkook pleads. You shake your head, pushing him away from you.

“It changes everything Jungkook!” you yell at him, furiously wiping the tears from your face, “You’ve known about your soulmate for a goddamn month and you thought you could hide that from me?! Are you kidding me Jungkook?!”

Jungkook pulls at the roots of his hair, glancing over to Taehyung and Jimin, “I’m sorry Y/N,” he repeats, “W-we can do something about this, there has to be—“

“No,” you spit, “No, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore Jungkook,” you pause, glancing down at your hands, “There’s no way around this and you lied to me.”

“Y/N, please,” Jungkook’s heart breaks all over again as he watches you gather your things, shoving your feet into your shoes.

“Take this,” you rip the ring that suddenly didn’t mean anything to you anymore off your finger, shoving it into Jungkook’s palm. He stares at the jewelry, his eyes watery and blurry.

“Come on,” Taehyung says holding out his arm for you. With one last glance at Jungkook, you turn on your feet and walk out of his apartment. Jimin shuts the door behind of you two and you don’t even make it to their car when you break down into a full sob, Taehyung wrapping his arms around you protectively. You didn’t just walk out of Jungkook’s apartment—you’ve walked out of his life too.

SPRING

Spring was always your favorite season. The blossoming of trees and flowers always seemed to cheer up your mood. More sunlight meant more happiness and less seasonal depression. The warming weather was always a nice touch after cruel and harsh winters. This year though, you thought no one could hate Spring as much as you did.

Everyday was new challenge for you. When you and Jungkook first broke up—your feelings were indescribable. The mental and physical chest pains you experienced from your heartbreak were sure the worst you could ever have. You were a broken soul—a soul not meant for someone who you loved more than life itself sometimes.  

It was hard doing simple things—getting out of bed, doing your laundry, going to class, eating meals—it was all such a burden to you. You cried and cried and cried until you had no more tears left. Sleep was even worse as it meant your unconscious state always drifted into thoughts of Jungkook. There was the time frame where Jungkook called you, left messages and voicemails, tried to contact you through Taehyung and others—but it was all the more painful. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to rid any trace of him from your phone, afraid that you might forget what he looked or sounded like.

No one had ever seen you in such a broken state. You thought you’re mind couldn’t drift into worse territory until one night, you thought about Jungkook and his soulmate—whoever she was. You thought about him loving her, making love to her, taking pictures of her, marrying her, having kids with her, looking at her the way he looked at you—it completely shattered you even more. You don’t remember how much you drank that night. One shot of vodka? Two? Seven? Glasses of wine? It didn’t matter you just needed to forget.

It was when Taehyung found you that night passed out over your toilet, is when he recommended seeing someone. At first, your idea of going to a therapist over a failed relationship seemed silly. But Taehyung made sure that you and Jungkook were more than a college fling—it was real and it was going to take a lot of time to get over.

Your therapist was a nice woman, upper forties maybe, slim face and blonde hair. Your first couple sessions with her didn’t go as smooth as you wished for. She asked you hard questions that you weren’t willing to answer. The third session you went to, you broke down in front of a stranger becoming the most vulnerable you’d ever been.

She knew you loved Jungkook and he loved you just as deeply too. She explained soul-bonding more in depth to you that day. The universe has a reason why it pairs two souls together and why some people are left bare. It’s a phenomenon that’s barely studied but she suspects it’s more common than people want to believe. There’s also a process called soul-breaking, that is rare too but the consequences can bare far greater risks so majority of the people stay away from it.

Overall, you grew up your whole life thinking something was wrong with you. You thought you were a glitch because you didn’t receive a name on your body at 18. But if anything, meeting with your therapist made you realize that nothing was wrong with you. You live a healthy life, have a family, have friends, and you fell in love with someone—and all that is okay.

“I do believe if two people are meant to be together, they will be, someway or somehow,” she said to you one day.

Nearly two months after your break up and one month left until graduation—it was still hard. You had been prescribed antidepressants for a few weeks now and while it did numb your pain for the most part, there were times when thinking about Jungkook just made you want to curl into a ball and forget about your tasks for that day. You told yourself you needed to stop doing that though—you had to be strong otherwise you couldn’t move forward.

“Here you go,” Taehyung plops down a cup of steaming coffee and a bagel in front of you. Your stomach growls at the site.

“Thank you,” you give him a smile, “I’m starved.”

“I bet, you’ve been writing that paper for fucking hours,” he says digging into his own bagel with salmon and cream cheese. You should mention you hated salmon too now.

Taehyung was the greatest friend anyone could have, that you were sure of. Everyday, he called or texted to check in on you. He brought you food to make sure you were eating. Him and Jimin would invite you to the movies or restaurants with them. You refrained from going out to bars with them, too afraid you might run into the wrong people. Nonetheless, without Taehyung by your side, you were sure these past two months would have been much more difficult.

“I got my cap and gown in the mail,” he sings songs scrolling through his phone.

“Jesus Christ Tae, can you believe we’re graduating college?”

He laughs, “I said the same thing when we graduated high school,” he glances at you, “Look at us now bitches!” he holds his arms out dramatically.

You laugh at him, chewing on your food slowly. If there was one positive about being alone the past two months, it meant your illness had gone away completely. Your therapist explained how illnesses of different forms can plague people who play a role in betraying a soul-bonded person. Though you already knew that from your project last semester.

“Did you ever hear back from that company?” Taehyung asks you as you mule over in small conversation.

“Uh yeah,” you smile shyly, playing with the ends of your hair.

“Welllll?”

“I got an offer, if I want it,” your smile widens even more. Taehyung’s mouth drops open before it melts into his signature boxy smile.

“Wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N that’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” you look away from him, heating rushing to your cheeks. It was an exciting opportunity and you felt this was the path for you.

“But wait hold on,” he pauses, “Does this mean… you’re moving? To New York City?”

There’s the bombshell you haven’t dropped on many people yet. New York City. It was always a dream of yours to possibly live there one day. And now with nothing holding you back here, when you applied for the company and they asked a preferred location—you said fuck it.

“Yeah, later in the summer,” your voice is low. Taehyung’s shoulders drop, his happy mood diminishing ever so slightly.

“New York…” he ticks, “Well I’ve always wanted to go there so I’ll have to visit once or five times a year.”

You nod giving him a short wink, focusing on the rest of you coffee and food. Slowly but surely, you were getting better. You knew that your future days would be filled with five steps forward, two steps back but it was the natural process. Once you graduated and moved onto to bigger and better things—you’ll understand that this chapter, while thick and important, was only just a chapter. You have another one already waiting at the starting line to begin.

.

Jungkook was numb—literally numb as a needle digs in and out of skin, inking a flower onto his forearm. He had this one for awhile, but it still needed the little details to perfect the tattoo to his liking. His first tattoos, the scattered pieces on his hands were the most painful. However, now as he has a good amount of ink on his arm all the way to his shoulder, the pain isn’t there that much. He almost likes the stinging sensation as it gives him something to focus on rather than his intrusive thoughts.

The past few months haven’t been easy on him. Watching you walk away from him hit him harder than when Rose’s name showed up on his skin. And he just let you. Sure, he called and texted and persisted as much as he could but he knew he should have done more. He should have explained in more depth why he did what he did. Yes, it was because he loved you with every fiber of his being, but he genuinely didn’t care if he was meant for someone else. He wanted to be with you despite the situation present. There was surely something he could do to make it right but you were long gone from his life. He was stuck in a hole and he didn’t know how to get out.

Jungkook and Rose saw each other more frequently after his break up. She was so kind and so patient with him, he knew she deserved so much more. She never rushed anything with him, always waiting for his moves. The first time he kissed her, there was tingling deep in his chest. As great as kissing Rose was, she could never compare to you. It was hard and confusing for him to understand. He’s heard all his life—when soulmates cross paths and become intimate with each other, their whole world begins to revolve around them. That wasn’t the case though. As much as he was being pulled in by Rose, he was being pulled into a completely different direction. That wasn’t how bonded souls worked, he knew that much.

“You’re not very talkative today,” his tattooist comments as she wipes away the leftover ink on his arms. Jungkook always preferred a female to do his tattoos as they seem to have more control and a gentler grip.

“Just a lot on my mind,” he shrugs turning his head towards the tattoo needle.

“Women issues?” she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Is it that obvious?” he half laughs.

“My job requires a lot of listening and giving advice,” she says, “I know a damsel in distress when I see one.”

He doesn’t say anything as he watches the way she furrows her eyebrows, getting closer to his skin to add the finishing touches.

“Are you still with, Y/N? Was it?” she then asks. The mention of your name sends his face pale. How many months had it been since he last saw you or mentioned you? One, two, three? All of his days blended together so he’s lost track of time.

He shakes his head slowly, “No.”

She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Really? I thought you were gonna marry her?”

He bites down on his bottom lip to hold down his emotions before saying, “That was the plan until the universe decided to throw me bullshit.”

She’s never heard Jungkook sound angry. He’s always been very polite and an overall happy person. Jungkook felt he had a right to be angry and resentful. Unfortunately, that anger and resentment was sometimes projected onto those people around him. His roommates had to walk on eggshells around him now, afraid he might fully break if they said one wrong thing to him.

“When did this happen?” she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“A few months back, around Christmas.”

“Have you met them yet? Your partner?” she pauses when she notices Jungkook’s jaw clenching as he’s staring at the ceiling now, “You don’t have to say anything if you’re uncomfortable. I just like to think I’m good at giving advice, is all.”

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he contemplates elaborating but does so anyways, “But it’s not this big grand affair that I was told about my whole life. She’s amazing and just my type, but… she’s not her. I like her a lot, but I don’t get the same fiery feeling I had with Y/N.”

“Hm,” she muses, putting down the tattoo gun, “You’re done,” she gives a small smile at him. He holds up his arm to inspect the new ink.

“Thanks, it looks great,” he gives her a small smile as she begins the aftercare process of petroleum jelly and a bandage.

“Can I see your mark?” she asks. He nods before shimmying his watch down his arm, revealing Rose’s name in thin cursive. The mark itself is still very much there, but recently it’s begun to fade and he wasn’t sure why.

“Sorry if I’m giving you too much information,” he laughs feeling slightly awkward as she inspects the name.

“It’s fine, I’m the one that asked,” she chuckles again before she sits back in her chair and begins to lift her own sleeve up. He’s confused as to what’s she doing but when she lays out her hand, he sees it. “This showed up when I was nineteen,” he reads the name that’s barely visible anymore—almost looking like a scar.

“Why’s it not dark anymore?” he asks.

“The same reason yours is fading too,” she looks back at his wrist.

“What do you mean fading?” so he wasn’t crazy—it was actually fading.

“It’s what happens when someone’s heart belongs to someone else,” she says, “I don’t know how to explain it but it occurs more than you think.”

She wraps up Jungkook’s forearm and he’s more confused than ever.

“The world is so fucked up,” he comments closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Heard that,” she nods in agreement, “Come on, I’ll ring you up.”

That day into the tattoo shop was a good day for him. It felt nice to open up about his situation to someone who seemingly understood what he was going through. Yes, the world was fucked up but so was everyone living in it. He didn’t understand the full meaning of his mark fading but he knew in the long run, he would deal with whatever was thrown at him. He had to otherwise he was going to live a long, miserable life. Besides, he knows that you would want him to be happy even though you probably hated him for what he did. He wants the same for you because at the end of the day, if he knew you were happy—he would be too.

. The smile on your face as you threw your cap into the air was probably the biggest and most genuine smile you’ve put on for months. The cheers and clapping from everyone in the room drowned out any tears that formed in your eyes. Of course you were happy to be done with university, but it was very bittersweet. The last four years of your life have been the best and worst possible. Everything you’ve learned here, you were sure would live with you for the rest of your life.

You find your parents and younger sister after the ceremony. The hug with your dad is the best you’ve had in a long time. He squeezes you tight, picking you up slightly.

“Gah, we’re so proud of you Y/N,” your mom dabs the inner corners of her eyes as she watches the seen unfold.

“I can’t believe my baby is graduated,” your dad pulls away, ruffling your hair a bit.

“Hey! Stop I spent time on this,” you step away from him, smoothing down your roots.

“Does this mean we get to go to New York now?” your big sister, Mia asks your parents. She’s pulls you into a hug which you exhale deeply in return. You didn’t get to see your sister as much as you wished, but growing up she was your rock. She was the best role model you could have asked for.

“Of course,” you say, “Only if you bring me bags and bags of those honey butter chips.”

“Anything you want we can bring it, or ship it!” your mom nods enthusiastically.

“What about me?” you turn around at the voice of Taehyung, throwing your arms around him.

“Holy shit Taehyung we’ve done it!” you exclaim. Your parents give you a slide on your language in front of them, understanding the circumstance.

“Mia! What’s up!?,” Taehyung pokes your sister on the shoulder before giving her a quick hug. He holds up his diploma and smiles, “Four years and thousands upon thousands of dollars later, we’ve made it.”

“Do you still wanna go downtown? Grab some dinner?” you ask your parents and they nod excitedly.

“Definitely—you choose wherever,” your father smiles. “Taehyung, you and Jimin are welcome to come if you don’t have any plans.”

“Oh we will definitely be there,” he smiles, “Just text me where you guys are going. I gotta go find the devil and my parents through all this mess. See you later!”

Later ended up being at a nicer restaurant downtown that you had never been to—too broke as a college student to ever think about coming here for dinner. You mulled over conversation with glasses of wine and good food, Taehyung being the star of the dinner table. Jimin smiled lovingly at his partner, slightly jealous that you and Taehyung were now finished with school. He’s got another year left in his master’s program so he’ll be graduated this time next year.

When you’re finally done with dinner, you part with your parents and sister for the evening outside the restaurant when you run into an all familiar face.

“Y/N?”

You turn to the source, “Namjoon?” a smile spreads over your face and you quickly make your way to him and give him a squeeze.

“Congrats!” he smiles when you pull away, looking back over your shoulder.

“You too, I can’t believe we’re done,” you laugh taking in his attire. He’s dressed in a nice button down and dress pants, glasses resting on his face looking dapper as ever. “Oh this is my family,” you introduce the them.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles, “This is Kaya,” he smiles and you didn’t even realize he had company with him. You introduce yourselves to each other and she’s got to be one of the most beautiful girls you’ve met. They look damn good together.

“Nice to meet you,” you return your own smile.

“Is dinner here good?” he asks all of you. Everyone agrees in response and he looks over to Kaya, “Well, it was good to meet you all. Let’s catch up one day? You’re gonna be around in the city right?”

“A city yes,” Mia interjects crossing her arms, slightly envious of you, “Not this one, but New York City.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows at you, “Wow, big girl things huh?”

You laugh repeating his words, “Big girl things.”

Namjoon and Kaya leave into the bustling restaurant after some finals words and you’re finally parting ways with your family. You mom and dad give you another bone crushing hug before they have to go back home. Mia looks at you with a sadness in her eyes and you furrow your eyebrows at her.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she hides herself in her shell.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she pouts, slumping her shoulders.

“I still have a few more months home,” you give her a smile, “And I promise you can visit me and I’ll come back as much as I can.”

“Promise?” she holds up her pinky. You link your pinkies together before nodding your head.

You bid your farewell’s to your family one last time before you’re left alone with Jimin and Taehyung.

“Your sister is funny,” Jimin comments as you begin to walk in the opposite direction of them. Your heels were absolutely killing your feet and you were tempted to take them off but thinking about the dirt and grim on the street made you think otherwise.

“She’s sweet on the outside but damn she can be a handful,” you laugh.

“She’s almost twenty five babe, about to hit her first mid-life crisis what do you expect?” Taehyung says.

Minuscule conversation occurs between the three of you before they have to part ways too. Taehyung and Jimin were meeting up with Taehyung’s parents at a bar just outside the city to celebrate. The sun was now setting, the air warm and sticky as you hugged them off. You were walking back to the parking garage that you had your car when something catches your eye on the way. Downtown was filled with bars, restaurants, boutiques and what nots, but you’ve never seen this before. It was an art studio of sorts, pictures—digital and art canvases—hanging from the windows.

You stared at the plexiglass, a sense of familiarity crossing your mind the longer you stared at the blown up photographs. You take a peak at the hours listed on the door and see that they don’t close for another twenty minutes or so. Curiosity getting the best of you, you swing open the door, silence engulfing you as you step in.

Your heels clink against the hardwood, glancing around the space. It’s quite spacious, pictures lining the walls up and down all the way to the back. A few art pieces are strayed in the middle of the floor. You walk slowly around the gallery, admiring the painted canvases and shots of various things. You pick up there’s different artists and photographs displaying their works and when you get towards the back left corner of the place, you stop in your tracks.

A gallery of scenic pictures ranging from clouds, to the sea, to the cityscapes, and more hang beautifully in thin frames. Something twists inside you as you feel deep down that you’ve seen some of these before you just cannot put your finger on it. It’s when you see a picture to the farthest right when you feel yourself skipping a breath. Your mouth parts when you realize what it it—or who it is. It’s you. It’s black and white film developed, the side of your face looking off into the distance with trees behind you. Your mind flashes back to that day in the park—with Jungkook—a small picnic he set up when you first got together.

“Y/N?” you whip around at the sound of your name.

“J-Jungkook?” his name leaves your lips instantly. He’s emerged from a back room stopping dead in his tracks. You’re speechless. He looks so good—better than you remember. His hair a little longer with blonde tips, a white button up, sleeves rolled up with black slacks that he fills out perfectly.

“H-hey,” he speaks first. His eyes trailing up and down your body quickly. You subconsciously glance down at your frame, the white dress and heels you’re wearing hoping to match how he good looks. “What are you doing here?”

“I—“ you pause looking back at the pictures, “I was just passing by and was curious, I didn’t know this place existed.”

Slowly, he steps closer to you shoving his hands in his pockets. His ears are red and he can’t believe that you’re here, looking at his favorite picture he ever took of you.

“It just opened up recently,” he says getting closer to you, though leaving a considerable amount of space between you two. “I started selling some of my pieces through here,” he explains.

“That’s great Jungkook,” you give him a small smile to hide the hurt you’re actually feeling. It’s been months and suddenly all of your progress seems to have backtracked. He was so beautiful—the most perfect man you have ever met—and he’s standing here before you again. Jungkook can’t believe his eyes either—you’re here, feet away from him, something he thought he’d never see anymore.

“How are you doing?” he asks, unable to take his off you. You can feel him staring holes into you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.

“I’m good, you?” you continuously stare at his photos, feeling self conscious the more you stand in his presence.

“I’m okay,” better now that you’re here, is what he wants to say, but he refrains. “You look good,” he says and you look over and up at him, meeting his eye contact.

“You too,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to his wrist, not even realizing what you’re doing. His watch still there, hasn’t moved since the last time you saw him. You feel a tingle in your fingertips and chest, unable to hide your awkwardness.

“Y/N,” he stops himself so you’ll look at him again. Fuck, he loves it when you look at him like that. “Would you want to get some coffee one day? Or something like that?” his words are brave and you can’t believe he said them.

As much as you know you shouldn’t—that you might be setting yourself up for further hurt—something between the two makes you say otherwise. Besides, you’ve been hurt enough, what’s a little more going to do?

You slowly with a small smile, “What about right now? A-are you free?”

He glances at his photos with a small smile in return before glancing back to you, his shoulders slumping as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

“Yeah… yeah I’m free.”

[chimoona]

Experimental | JJK

Pairing: Sub!Scientist!JJK x Fem!Alien!Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff, Alien/Monsterfucker AU Word Count: 5.4K Synopsis: Held captive for experimentation, you’ve come accustom to the constant swabbing and pricking. It isn’t so bad when the testing is conducted by your favorite scientist, Jungkook. Now comfortable with his calm and innocent presence, you dare to conduct some experiments of your own... Rating: M (18+) Warnings: Reader is held captive for experimentation, seduction/manipulation, erotic asphyxiation/suffocation, size kink, begging, Koo is a whiny baby and will do anything to please his noona uwu, praise kink, subby babyboy kink 👀, raw penetration (F&M), tentacle pegging (M), minor drug use (addictive arousal??), cursing, forced orgasm, prostate milking, overstimulation, breeding kink, creampie, cum addiction.

A/N: Co-written with @sombreboy​, my rock and celestial soulmate 🥺. I want to give a huge thank you to Mino for providing the babyboy energy and crackhead humor necessary to make this fic come to life. I also want to thank our combined crab powers for coming up with this idea—another “open doc anything goes” experiment that went very, very right. Happy reading, monsterfuckers. Please give us lots of love if you enjoy! We absolutely treasure everyone who reads <3 

When the clock strikes 12pm, your sharp eyes instantly shoot to the heavy steel door that holds you captive. At noon, on the dot, your captor visits you with a sweet smile on his face that crinkles the corners of his eyes. 

“Good afternoon, bunny boy,” You chirp at him and rustle the chains around your wrists. “Come to unlock these so I can give you a hug?” The name rolls casually off your clever tongue. After weeks of being poked and prodded by the young scientist, you’ve developed a closeness that his colleagues saw as an anomaly. 

You demanded that only he touch you. A few successful solo sessions with the curious human and you were hooked. You would be fully compliant as their test subject as long as he was the one to conduct the experiments. 

So, why choose him out of anyone else? He’s not the most astute scientist, often needing to redo tests for accurate readings. But you don’t mind, in fact, you prefer the extra time you get to spend with him. He has a gentle touch and speaks to you with respect. He has kind eyes that soften on your fair cerulean skin as he draws blood samples, always apologizing for the sting of the needle.

That’s why he’s perfect. He doesn’t have to say a word—you know he’s smitten. You’re not blind to how humans are affected by your charismatic presence, the gentle scent of your pheromones, or the shape of your body. Poor Jungkook seems to have fallen victim to all your charms; entirely entranced, enamoured, and devoted to your wellbeing.

“Good afternoon, noona.” Jungkook chirps through his toothy grin as he approaches you, dangling his keychain loose around one finger. “Did you miss me?”

You chuckle to yourself. “Of course, Kookie. I always miss you when you leave me.” You lean onto your elbows and sigh dramatically, peeking a shimmering gold eye from beneath your long lashes to assess his reaction. “...and it gets so cold at night, too.” 

As predictable as he’s become over the weeks, Jungkook hustles to your side. In his flustered state, the keyring slides off his finger and onto the floor. 

“S-sorry. Should I turn up the thermostat?” Jungkook bends down to pick up the keys and looks at you with dusky pink cheeks, embarrassed by his slip. “Perhaps I can get you something else to wear?” His timid eyes skim the small bit of fabric you’ve fashioned into a dress for modesty. It’s not much and you prefer it that way. 

“If you wrap your arms around me, noona will be plenty warm,” you say in a honeyed tone, noticing how his hands tremble to steady the key as he slides it to unclasp your chains.

The one bit of fun you truly enjoy having in your captive state is making the scientist nervous. You noted from day one how easily you could control him by simply shooting a bright smile or adjusting the fabric that hugged your fleshy thighs.

Jungkook catches a flash of your skin as your dress slides high and quickly looks away in embarrassment to focus on your face. In his opinion, your eyes are just as enchanting as the rest of you—glowing golden orbs, slit with a vertical pupil, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. “Okay,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to the floor when you stand from your seat. His shorter frame is dwarfed by your curvy body and it makes him nervous any time he’s reminded. Simple queues like the way he wets his pouty lips or avoids eye contact lets you know just how affected he can become, and how quickly. 

It’s a known fact that your species is genetically tall and proud, and you are no exception. Roughly half a foot taller than him, his chin comes to your chest, which brushes against you lightly as you find your footing and adjust your clothing. 

“Bun, what’s wrong?” You try to hide your knowing smirk as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Of course you know what’s wrong. With your pert nipples straining against the light fabric of your dress, it’s quite obvious how your every movement distracts the handsome scientist. He can’t focus and it’s making him flustered. 

“N-nothing,” he replies in a voice barely above a whisper and eyes dead-set on the floor.

“You look flush,” you note, hooking your tapered finger under his chin and stroking your thumb over the plush apples of his cheeks. Then you tilt his head up to look at you, knowing he’d need the extra push to finally match your gaze. “How about that hug? Would that make you feel better, baby?”

The pet name had him swallowing tightly, liking it too much for his own good. Although you are of another species, he’s never felt so close to another being as he does with you. He wraps his arms around your hips like he has a few times before, slowly and precautious. Each time you’ve had to hype him up and talk him into it, but once he’s confident enough to do so, he melts into your hot embrace. His face buries into the dip of your plump breasts and tries to respectfully avoid touching more than he must. 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close, humming in contentment. “So what kind of experiments are you going to conduct on me today—”

Your train of thought is cut off by Jungkook’s breathing as it grows dense. The shift is noticeable by the way his chest heaves up and down heavily. His attempts to breathe normally is to no avail. You can feel his heart beating faster, and along with each passing second, it beats harder, feeling like the muscle would burst through his ribcage if you pushed him any further. 

The small bits of his skin that brush against yours tacks delicately with small beads of sweat.

“Mhm.” His nostrils flare as he pathetically makes numerous attempts to regain his breathing to normalcy, but your close proximity messes with him in every possible way. He wishes he could stay like this, close to you for as long as possible. However, he’s extremely aware of the way his heart beats vigorously, causing blood to rush down to his already half-erect cock. The realization of this makes him want to withdraw from your warmth, but your arms are too strong, and his mere human strength is nothing in comparison.

“Noona, l-let go…mmff...” His voice is weak, muffled by the way you push his face further against your chest, restricting his breathing for a moment. To your surprise, he doesn’t struggle against you as much as you expected, but the muffled whines are more so from his embarrassment over the growing tent in his pants.

“Shh, it’s okay. Let me take care of you this time, Kookie.” You adjust your hold on him as you begin to feel his hardening cock against your leg. It makes your mouth water by it’s rapid growth, simply spurred on by your soft tits pressed against his reddening face. “You always take such good care of me, let me return the favor.” Your offer is merely a courtesy. You’ve waited far too long to be touched to allow him the option to back out now.

“I-Mmf—” Jungkook wriggles for breath as your flesh suffocates him. “N-noonaaa...” he places his hands on your waist and attempts to push away once again.

His low whimpers and weak struggle heighten your arousal and ignite your natural instincts to dominate. You’ve daydreamed pinning him against the wall and feeling his muscles tense under your palms, and you’ve been as good as you could bear. You’ve been compliant in his experiments, giving him whatever swab or sample he needed to learn how you tick.

Eventually you loosen your grip to allow him to take a step back, and he immediately does so to take several deep breaths. His eyes are wide in shock as he stares back at you.

“Noona—”

“What, baby boy?” You purr as you shamelessly glance down at the strained fabric between his legs. He quickly covers up with both hands in embarrassment. “You don’t want me? Hm?”

“I—uh…n-no—yes?...” Jungkook is a blabbering mess, not sure whether to look at you or how to react. It’s an internal push and pull between maintaining his professionalism and surrendering to his guilty pleasure fantasies involving you. 

“If you don’t want me, you’re free to go.” You state calmly, taking a step forward to close the distance yet again. “But if you stay, I will take that as an invitation to play. Okay?”

Jungkook straightens his posture, turning to glance towards the door as if he’s actually considering the proposition. Has he lost his mind?

“Five…” You cross your arms across your chest, crooking an eyebrow as you wait for his decision to be made.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t move.

“Four...”

You can hear how hard his heart pounds, yet he remains still.

“Three…last chance to back out, baby.” You coo, approaching him as you bend over slightly to meet his height. “Two...one…”

Another second passes, which feels like an eternity. You simply stare the scientist down with your golden gaze and lips curling into a gentle smirk. To your delight, he made the wise choice. “Let’s play,” you purr and beckon him closer with the unveiling sight of your bare skin.

Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobs heavy as he swallows tightly, his eyes unable to detach from your body. Is this really happening? It feels surreal, yet he is so aware of every single micro movement happening in the room. It’s as if his senses are heightened by your presence, from his hearing, sight, to his sense of touch.

“Well, hm… ah... Wait—” He isn’t sure what to say, and there is no need to. He abruptly shuts up when he sees the small piece of fabric covering your body fall to the floor, leaving you completely bare for his eyes. He’s seen you in the nude countless times during tests, but always kept his eyes from staring for too long, until now. Now, he takes a long second to truly drink you in. 

Your skin is ethereal to him—the blue reflecting in his dark orbs as he’s dumbfounded by your presence. When he realizes what’s happened, his cheeks flush red and his hands quickly cover his eyes. He wants you—fuck, he’s wanted you so badly. But he’s also very easily flustered...

“Don’t be so shy, bunny.” You gently grab his hands to uncover his eyes, relishing in the deer-like wonder within them as he stares at you with the most sweet emotion swirling. You bring his hands to your stomach, smoothing his palms down your silky skin, sensing just how his body tenses and relaxes. 

He’s so shy, yet relieved that you take control. 

“I’ve been studying you too, watching how you act, and I can see how badly you want to touch me. You stayed, like such a good boy, and good boys deserve to be rewarded.” You remove your hands from his and allow him to move them on his own. “Feel me anywhere and any way you like.”

His movements start hesitant, timidly trailing his fingers over your luminescent skin like he’s reading braille. Really, as shy as he is, you know he’s taking the time to study the map of your flesh and savour his opportunity to do so. His lip tucks adorably between his teeth and he worries the pink flesh absentmindedly as his touches become bolder. 

Detaching himself from work and pleasure should take some getting used to, but it becomes second nature the second his hands move up to your supple breasts and graze the stiff peaks with the pads of his fingers. 

Jungkook’s doe eyes glance up at you through his long eyelashes. Even though he has the freedom to touch you as he likes, he still seeks your encouragement to continue.

“You’re doing great, baby, keep going.” You gently coax him to feel more of your body by placing your hands on top of his, pressing his hands into your flesh deeper. “I’m not fragile, Kookie. Get greedy.”

Jungkook rubs his thighs together, his cock uncomfortably hard beneath the fabrics. He’s impossibly hard already, and his arousal contributes to his growing confidence. He squeezes your plump chest a little harder, drawing a quiet sigh from your blue lips. He cups your flesh in his large hands, yet they seem small compared to your breasts, leaning forward to encase your nipple between his lips, gently letting his tongue lick at the hardened bud.

“There you go, Kookie—ah…” You praise, combing your long fingers through his beautiful, raven curls. “Feels good.”

“Hmm…” Jungkook hums in response, his free hand massaging your other breast as he sucks on the nipple still in his mouth, pressing his body closer to yours. 

His cock is desperate for friction, and instinctively he rocks his hips against your body, allowing you to feel his turgid, generous length. It’s twitching heavily with every little sigh and praise rolling off your lips. You can practically smell his precum dripping beneath his clothes. 

He swiftly switches to give your other breast the same treatment—his muffled moans grow louder as he indulges in the pleasurable feeling of your body. Every suck and lick against your skin is like a drug to him, addicted and hungry for more, more, more.

The room grows hotter with your skin. Jungkook’s sweet needy whimpers, his scent, the desperation behind every ragged breath and ministration ignites something within you that you knew existed, but never like this… 

Your natural instinct kicks in, slowly, and if your drooling cunt isn’t anything to go by, the heightened production of saliva in your mouth is more than enough to tell you that you need so much more. 

You want to breed with this human, and you already know he’s wanted to be your plaything for way too long. It’s sweet, in a sense, that he’s been able to hold his urges for so long out of respect. Now, given the chance, he’s like a ravenous animal given a generous meal. 

“Baby boy…” You catch his attention with your soft, demanding voice. “Do you want to fuck me?”

He stills his hands, drunk off the erotic scent of your pheromones, then looks up at you with dilated pupils that blacken his irises with lust. “Uh...gah...y-yeth.” Jungkook chokes on his reply. He’s endearingly lispy as a dewy sheen of arousal beads across your skin, coating your breasts as he tongues your sensitive nipples. “Please.”

You wordlessly take his hand in yours to tug him with you, guiding the two of you to your bed. Normally, one would think an experiment within isolated walls would have the minimal amounts of comfort, but not you. Jungkook has provided you with a large and comfy bed within a space that looks like any other bedroom. Well, if you exempt the fact that your walls are made of unbreakable glass.

“First…” You catch his attention as you take a seat on the bed, him still standing in front of you with anticipatory eyes. “I want to see you. Will you be a good boy and undress for me?” 

“O-okay, yeth, yeah...”  He stutters out his lispy words. With jittery hands, he fumbles to remove his buttoned coat, along with the shirt underneath, exposing his muscular torso. Your eyes glow with a newfound hunger, a bit surprised by how fit he actually is. This boy is like a pandora's box of revelations.

“Keep going,” you urge, leaning back onto the bed to get a full view. “Baby, you’re so beautiful. You’ve been hiding that body from me this whole time?” You tsk slowly as he continues to undress. “Such a shame.”

Jungkook nips his lip and moves quickly to undo his pants. He’ll do anything to please you, and even more to distract from his warming cheeks. With a loud click, his belted pants fall to the floor and are promptly kicked to the side. He doesn’t need to remove any more for you to get a good look at how large and stiff he is. 

“...and?” He tucks his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his underwear and pulls it from his body, moving it side-to-side gently.

You nod, flicking your tongue out to wet your lips. You swallow audibly when he finally tugs down the remaining bit of clothing and catch a flash of his bare cock before he covers it with his hands. It’s been a long time since you’ve had the pleasure of seeing such a mouth-watering sight. Covering it is not an option.

“Come to me.” 

The timid scientist obliges, kicking off his underwear from around his ankles to stand before you by the bed. He’s being such a good boy, flustered and excited for what you’ve got planned next. He could probably imagine, but having you instruct him was fun for both of you.

You gently grab his hands in yours so he’s unable to cover his length. It’s already incredibly hard, tip leaking pathetically with excitement. It’s cute.

“Look how pretty you are,” you purr, tugging his body closer to yours to stand in between your spread legs. With one hand cupping his cheek, you pull him in for a sweet kiss and immediately draw out a small, muffled whine that you greedily swallow. Your free hand snakes between your bodies, wrapping your warm fingers around his cock just to feel the way it twitches in your palm. Giving it a few languid strokes, smearing his precum from the tip to the shaft, you feel his hips twitch as if he’s trying his absolute best not to fuck himself into your hand. 

You work on him at a slow and tortuous pace—the light slick sounds of your hand gliding against his silky skin is erotic to your ears, however, pales in comparison to the scientist’s physical reactions. 

Jungkook’s muscles tense and relax in your touch with light twitches. His high-pitched whines seep through the hot, messy kisses you reward him with. Your skilled tongue dwarfs his small pink one, gliding over it in greedy strokes. Lust laces your rich voice as you praise between kisses, nipping at his pouty lips and nearly suffocating his cute mouth as your large tongue laves for dominance. 

“Mm—uff—pleasee...”

You withdraw to look at his flushed face, lips sticky with your thick saliva as he takes quick, shallow breaths to collect himself. Hand still on his length, you squeeze his drooling tip to draw a strained moan from his throat.

“What’s wrong, Kookie? Why are you whining?” You coo soothingly, squeezing his cock tighter in your palm, earning a heavy throb that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“P-please noona… ahh..”

That’s it. 

The begging, the whining, the breathy whimpers. Every bit of it is the final push you need to wrap your long legs around his slender hips and draw him close—so close that his twitching cock brushes against your slicked heat. You lay on your back and allow his body weight to shift on top of you, opening your legs wide for him to easily fit between, which he does without further encouragement. 

“Mmm,” you moan aloud and rock your hips up to match your slit with the prod of his swollen head. “Take what you need, baby boy. Don’t hold back—fuck me hard, choke me, spank and welt my skin to pretty purple bruises.” You give him another nudge with your thigh to press the leaking tip of his cock past your soaked folds. “Breed me, Jungkook.”

Your last request visibly solidified the scientist’s greatest suspicion as he exhales shakily and presses his cock into you deep. 

“You want me...to...” He shakes his head in dismay and closes his sparkling eyes to focus on the grip of your otherworldly pussy as he pulses in deep.

You’re in heat. He hasn’t witnessed it before, but he’s well aware of the dominant and urgent manner in which your species breeds. He doesn’t take a moment of hesitation before fucking into you steadily, gripping the flesh of your thighs and practically pulling himself onto you with force. Your body jolts with every thrust—his momentum gradually growing stronger with each snap of his hips, as if his body is aching to fuck you with everything he’s got. 

And it’s true. Every passing second he spends inside of you makes his body feel like it’s on fire from the inside out. His mind is hazy and tunnel-visioned on the sight below; the sensation heightens from what he suspects to be the drug-like substance he lapped from your skin. It’s intriguing, interesting, groundbreaking and fucking wonderful...

“Harder, Kookie. Your cock feels so good, such a good boy to me...” You praise him well, toying with your plump breasts for him to see as your blue lips part, allowing every siren-like moan to echo in the isolated room for only him to hear.

Right this moment, you are everything, in every sense of the word. Jeon Jungkook only cares about you. He only wants to hear you, to taste you, to breed you...

“Y-yes noona… I-I’m trying, ahhh…” Jungkook’s high pitched, desperate moans grow more frequent as he continues to plunge his cock into you as hard as he physically can—wet skin smacking together until it feels like his pelvis might bruise. At this point, he doesn’t care, all that matters is pleasing you to the best of his abilities. And, damn, he would rather die than to leave you unsatisfied.

“More, more Kookie—more.” Your rich voice lowers with each command as your golden gaze pierces straight through him. He swears he could feel the heat of it the moment those words leave your lips. It’s as if his body gains a rush of energy to to keep fucking you just as you wish—harder and faster with every fibre of his being. 

Jungkook’s milky skin drips in sweat as if he's truly melting. Every thrust causes his overgrown fringe to drip with sweat before sticking to his forehead. His grip tightens, digging his bunt nails into your fleshy thighs, admiring how the marks his pressure produces are just a lighter hue of blue bordering on purple instead of pink.

“I’m—” Jungkook gasps, quickly interrupted, when something emerges from your sides. The sides of your flesh morphs into long, slimy tentacles. The scientist immediately ceases to move, still inside of you with eyes wide and fascinated.

“Are those...d-did they...come out of you? What…”

“Yes.” you huff, catching your breath as you glance at the two tendrils growing from both sides of your hips. One tentacle slowly approaches Jungkook’s face, and he stares at it, before reaching out to poke. When he makes contact, it doesn’t retract. Instead, it nuzzles against his palm, and coats it in gooey secretions. He grimaches a bit at the foreign feeling, but fascinated by its existence. 

“I...didn’t know you could do that.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” you say quietly, not wanting to risk the chance of intimidating and scaring him off. He’s so close to filling you up and fulfilling your otherworldly needs. So close to making you constrict around his thick cock, milking every drop of his precious cum into your sweet pussy. “Do you...like them?”

Jungkook doesn’t immediately answer, still observing with great interest. Eventually, he snaps back to reality and looks at you with his intrigued, doe eyes and nods. He reaches out again, this time more confident as he smooths his palm over the soft, gooey skin of the tentacle. He notes the small reaction you give from his touch in the form of a quiet gasp, and he realizes they must be quite sensitive.

“I do...do you like this?” He asks shyly as he keeps touching it, so incredibly fascinated by the newfound liquids seeping out of the skin. It doesn’t smell like anything, and he takes it upon himself to bring his coated fingers to his lips to taste. 

His eyes widen further, and pupils dilate further—it’s so sweet. Just lapping at your skin has a drug-like effect, but it’s nothing compared to the powerful effect the secretions from your tentacles give him directly on his tongue. It awakens every single hormone in his body, igniting his soul, fueling the incredible itch to breed you.

“Mhm, but…” You murmur under your breath, something else gnaws at your mind that you desire so much more now that you’re so, so ready to be bred by him. 

As if your body begins to speak through actions instead of with words, a tentacle wraps around Jungkook’s thigh, slowly snaking up towards the dip of his toned cheeks. The slick, soft tip of the tentacle gently massages it’s way between and spreads him gently to lick at his entrance. Jungkook immediately tenses up as an initial reaction at the foreign sensation, a quiet whimper scratching at the back of his throat, and cock throbbing deep inside of you.

“W-wait, noona… What are you doing?” He whispers between stuttered breaths, leaning forward on top of you with furrowed brows.

“Shh, baby.” You soothe him, cupping his face to draw him in for a soft kiss, his body practically resting against your larger frame for support, giving himself to you by relaxing into your touch. “Let me take care of you like this...trust me.” 

Jungkook worries his plump lower lip between his teeth before releasing it with a small pop and nods, “Okay...o-okay, I trust you.”

When you feel Jungkook’s body relax further with every anticipated breath he takes, you pull him closer to kiss him again, muffling his sweet whines with your tongue, tasting his pouty lips once more. The tentacle continuously teases and rubs at his tight hole, lubricating it generously before giving an experimental prod. Jungkook’s body tenses up again, but relaxes quicker this time. He’s able to gather himself with your words, echoing at the back of his mind, all while focusing on the way your lips move so naturally against his own.

Your hands greedily smooth down his muscular back until they reach his cheeks, groping and spreading them slightly, pulling his hips against you with a quick snap to force his cock to plunge back into you. Both of you moan, but Jungkook’s whimper is what drives your tentacle to show less mercy as it slips inside of him. Your strong hands move Jungkook’s hips again, repeating and controlling the action of fucking his cock into you while letting your tentacle slide deeper inside of him with every thrust. 

Jungkook feels everything—the way his cock is squeezed tight by your cunt. The way every fleshy, soft ridge of the suction cups glide inside him one inch at a time, and the slimy press past his rim, causing his body to shiver at the sensation. His cock twitches inside of you, pathetically hard. He knows he won’t be able to hold it much longer, especially not when he feels the grinding massage against his prostate.

“F-fuck, gah... Noona, noona-aah, plea—fuck!—plea-ase…” Jungkook can barely speak when you pick up the pace, fucking yourself with his cock, controlling his body like it’s yours to play with, all while prodding him thoroughly. You build his high like nothing else matters, ensuring he will give you nothing but a hefty amount of seed.

“Kookie.” You whine against his lips before releasing his face, allowing him to hold himself up above you with flat palms placed on each of your sides. While his insides are slowly stretching to accommodate the thickening slimy tentacles, his hips begin to move on their own to continue what he started. He’s adamant to please you as best he can despite the new and incredible distraction.

“S-shit, I can’t, I c-can’t—gah—I’ll cum too quickly!” Jungkook chokes on his moan when an extra delicious brush against his prostate catches him off guard, forcing his hips to snap into you harder in tandem to which you fuck him. “Y/n, Y/n—huff—Y/n...”

Jungkook rarely uses your given name. It’s either your designated code as a form of identification, or the sweet nickname, ‘noona’, that he’s given you. But once in a while, with the most doting of affection, your real name slips past his cherry lips. Now is one of those times. 

You’re not an alien experiment to him, but you’re the being he’s fallen victim for irrevocably. His mind, body and soul is a lost cause, all for you.

“It’s okay, bunny. I—unff...want you to cum. Feel me swelling inside you?” You bite your deep blue lip and give a hooked prod against his trembling prostate. “You’re fucking your noona so well, I’ll c-cum too. Being such a good boy, god, it feels so good. Doesn’t it feel good?”

The ribbed, secreting length swells inside the scientist, coated with your own arousal, hardwired to the pleasure and adrenaline that courses through your veins. As each slick suction cup glides effortlessly past his rim, you feel him clench sporadically, struggling to keep his composure. 

“N-noona, I c-can’t—gahh! I really c-can’t, please, ah…”

“Now, Jungkook. Cum,” you demand in a low whimper. “Pleaseee, I want your cum inside me so bad.”

Your brazen gaze pierces through the scientist as you glide in and out of him with deft strokes, purposefully teasing his swollen prostate. He’s full to burst, and you can feel it in the heavy throb of his thick shaft inside you. His vascular length pulsates with the beat of his heart, pumping powerfully to feed your carnal need. With a determined thrust, you bring him to his peak, causing his arms to wrap around the small of your waist and dig his fingernails into your plump cobalt flesh. He drags them down to desperately hold onto something stable while legs tremble to hold him upright. So, he rests his full weight against your torso and relaxes into your touch. 

“F-fuckkk, oh my g-god...” His strained voice breaks into a silent cry when his muscles tense up for a long moment, before he feels every inch of his body stutter in tandem with the way his cock pulsates. 

Slick gushes of cum fill your clenching pussy, electrifying every nerve ending in your body as it kisses your womb. As a final effort to get everything you want from the young scientist, you rub tastefully against his prostate to milk everything he has to offer. 

“Me too, shit, c-cumming for you, bunny—ah!” Triggered by the hot glide of Jungkook’s release coating your fleshy insides, you wail out your high, using your tentacle to pin his body tight. “Don’t p-pull out. Stay...a little longer…need it.”

The clench of your pussy sends Jungkook into overdrive, melting his mind with the overwhelming sensation. His body is spent, but he holds out a little longer, allowing you the time to soak up every drop of his seed until your body is sated. He wouldn’t dare interrupt this process, even when his limbs tingle from the high of your secretions, so close to collapsing. 

You spare mercy on the precious human and slowly withdraw from his gaped rim. He’s positively wrecked, messy with your combined arousal and sweat, sprawled out over your tall frame. 

“Thank you, my pretty boy,” you coo, smoothing a hand over his matted hair. You brush it back to reveal his shimmering doe eyes. They’re wide and dancing with adoration, high off your celestial secretions and the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Time has gone far past Jungkook’s allotted window of visitation, and yet the room remains still and quiet. No one has come to check on his progress, so you take advantage of the opportunity to hold him close, rubbing gentle circles over his broad back, letting him revel in the accomplishment of a lifetime. 

Soon you will show signs of his hard labor. You can already feel the effects of his cum, even when it slips past your folds and down your thick thighs. Soon you’ll grow round and glowing—a proud display of your pretty boy’s efforts. 

“Did I do well?” He asks in a small voice, pressing soft kisses to your chest, begging for praise.

You smile down at your chosen human and tilt his chin up to match your lips in a passionate kiss. Parting with a sweet moan from his throat, you confirm with a shimmering, brilliant golden gaze.

“Beyond my imagination, bunny.”

©Chimoona 2020 | Please do not edit, translate, or repost.

[dewykth]

—CYBΞRSΞX (m)

pairing. jeon jungkook | female reader | park jimin genre & au's. smut, humor / camgirl!reader, camboy!pjm, rich boy!jjk word count. 10.213 warnings. please read ! multiple explicit sexual scenes, masturbation (f + m), porn, sexting, nudes, jk in a thong (bc yes), ice play, sex toys, face sitting, sub!jk, (soft) dom!reader, sub!jm, [18+] note. AHH it's finally here!! thank you to everyone who liked the teasers, i hope you'll enjoy this baby! this went thru a lot of editing, rewriting, and deleting, but i’m finally happy w it !! feedback is vv much appreciated <3!! note two. and yes, i did take the opportunity to write subby bts, bc i can, and we need more of it. thats it. sub jk rights! 

—shoutout to vira ( @periminkle​ ) for beta reading and making me laugh w her reactions <3 ily

[teaser #1] ♡ [teaser #2] ♡ [playlist]

synopsis. there are three rules you set for yourself when you signed up for cybersex.com. one, separate work from your personal life. two, do not get involved with any cyberboy, no matter how stupidly & unfairly gorgeous he is. and three, do not, under any circumstance, fall for a client. they're very simple, and very easy to follow. so why are you about to get in bed with park jimin, cyberboy extraordinaire, in order to spite a loyal client of yours?

 [ :: LOADING... my strange addiction :: ]

The hot pink log-in screen of cybersex.com is a sight Jungkook is embarrassingly familiar with. Frankly, he’s afraid to admit how many times he’s logged on this past week. It takes him no longer than a minute for him to input his account information, quickly searching for the sole reason he’s still on this site at all.

Jungkook glances at the time. He might still be able to catch a bit of your show tonight. Even if it were only for a few moments, it’d be enough for him until he actually got to talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully. 

Jungkook knows better than to think he could ever get enough though.

● LIVE!: sittin here undressed...

By Sweetheart666

83,938 viewing now

The screen goes black for a second before you appear, sitting on your bed with a pink pillow between your thighs. Jungkook sucks in a breath, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants. Your hands are on your chest, playing with your nipples and whining softly. Your sounds spur Jungkook further, his eyes glued to the completely fucked out expression on your face and (too soon) his dick is fully erect. He doesn't know how you're able to get him like this so quickly every time.

There's sensual music in the background, but Jungkook only focuses on the pretty sounds falling from your lips. Jungkook begins to palm himself through his sweats just as you tease your fingers over the band of the mesh shorts barely leaving anything to the imagination. Jungkook's skin is hot to the touch, and he can feel the sweat building on his forehead. 

“Oh? Do you guys want this off?”

Comments fill the screen quickly, all fervently voting in favor for removing the sheer white fabric. But this isn’t Jungkook’s first time, and he knows better than anyone you like for them to beg.

“Show me how bad you want me to take it off.”

v_steponmepls_ tipped 2,000 hearts!

secretly1ntoXhibitionism tipped 5,000 hearts!

bbybun14 tipped 1,600 hearts!

“Aww, is that all? Guess you don’t want it that much...”

Your fingers leave the band of your shorts, choosing to fiddle with the heart chain around your neck as you wait. Jungkook chuckles, knowing that the comments were all probably whining at your teasing. But as previously mentioned, Jungkook was a bit more experienced in your realm. His fingers dance on the keyboard of his computer.

nj_94 tipped 10,000 hearts!

Tiny red hearts fill Jungkook’s screen as he smirks, lying back against his headboard. He sees the way your eyes flash, before you’re smirking at the camera, as if you could see how desperate Jungkook was. 

“So needy, aren’t you, nj_94? Alright, I guess I can give you a little something then...”

Jungkook suddenly feels warmth on his face, and he realizes he’s fucking blushing at your attention. There was something about you acknowledging him in front of almost ninety-thousand people that made his chest swell with pride. He’s so fucking whipped, a thought that crosses his mind momentarily before his focus is back on you. When you finally remove your flimsy shorts, Jungkook moans loudly at the sight of your dripping core. Oh, how he wishes he could stuff his face in between your thighs. 

He pulls his sweatpants to his thighs, letting his dick spring free. Jungkook gathers his saliva, spitting into his hands before leisurely stroking his shaft. You play with your clit, moaning softly. He can see your juices dripping onto your mattress, leaving a mess. Jungkook briefly wonders how you would taste on his tongue. 

nj_94 tipped 15,000 hearts!

“Wow, straight to the point huh?”

When you slip two fingers into yourself and whine, Jungkook’s strokes begin to speed up. He moans, uncaring of the fact that it was past midnight. Jungkook is mesmerized by the sight of your small fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. Your moans begin to grow louder, and he can tell by the way your hips are grinding along your hands that you're getting closer to your release. Jungkook can feel his coming as well, his strokes becoming sloppier. 

“Fuck, I wish those were m-my hands instead of yours,” he mutters, lost in the way you’re making him feel. You moan louder, almost as if you could hear the words coming from Jungkook's mouth. It's impossible, but Jungkook lets his imagination wander. 

“You’d probably make me beg for it, w-wouldn’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly as you grind down on your hand. “I-i don’t m-mind, though,” Jungkook is sure he’s mumbling nonsense, yet he can’t find it in himself to care when he’s so close to his release. “I l-love begging for you.” His voice sounds echoey, but in his lust-ridden mind, he can’t make sense of anything else other than you, you, you. Jungkook watches through lidded eyes as your hips stutter. You thumb your clit a couple more times before a loud whine rips through you, and you're reaching your climax. 

Jungkook keeps his gaze on you, stroking himself a few more times until he too is spilling his seed all over his abs with a low groan. He’s left breathing harshly, lying on his back as he stares at the ceiling in a post-orgasmic haze. It takes a couple of minutes for Jungkook to fully recover before he looks at his computer screen again, realizing your live has abruptly ended. He sighs wistfully before closing his laptop shut.

Until tomorrow.

[ :: LOGGING IN... computer (almost, but not really) luv ::]

[ENDED]: feelin a bit bratty tonight?

By Sweetheart666 

106,729 viewers / 202,728 hearts

jacker82: sailor moon cosplay plssssss?

i_swallow_: feet?

James Miller Jr.: would love to take you to dinner some time!

_tittystan_: OH MY GODDD PLSS PUNCH ME IN THE FACE T-T

catdaddyXoX: ur so hawt yumm XD

Scrolling through the comments section and reading them out loud always made you giggle to yourself. They were either always some absurd comment or a simple compliment thrown your way. And you’d be lying if you said doing these videos didn’t make your confidence go up tenfold. During the past few months you’ve been a Cybergirl, you’ve been steadily growing a following. Your past three videos have done exceedingly well, but it was always your lives that got the most attention. 

It started as an easy way to get money to pay your bills. A lonely night in your apartment spent drinking cheap wine and crying about how pathetic you felt, because you couldn’t keep a job to save your life, led you to the hot pink sign up screen of Cybersex.com.  You told yourself it would be just for you to get yourself back on your feet, but as you began to post more and see the numbers in your bank account go to the triple digits, you grew a penchant for the website. 

All it took was a bit more effort into your videos for it to become your main source of income. You’ve grown much more comfortable around the camera than when you first started, and with that you've also been able to claim your place on the Hot200. It was undemanding work, for the most part. As expected, there was heavy competition between the cybergirls, which only worked to fuel your desire to chart. You had to come up with new and creative ideas for every video, and if you were being honest, you’d say you were pretty fucking good at what you do. And of course, there was no way for you to get fired.

To put it in simpler words, you loved being a cybergirl.

But, the best part, if you had to choose, were the personal clients. The ones who would pay an additional price in order to be able to talk to you directly, maybe even get a private show or pictures if they gave a bit more. You had yet to give a private show to anyone, which was pretty expensive depending on the popularity of the cybergirl.  Not that you were complaining, there were enough message requests to keep you pleased and your pockets full.

An alert appears on the corner of your screen, signaling the low battery of your computer. After plugging it in you opt to clean your cam set-up, putting away your toys and equipment. You check the time on your phone, noting that you had time to shower before your upcoming session. One that you had been waiting impatiently for all week. 

When you emerge from your bathroom, you pick up your phone again, scrolling through the messages until your eyes fall on one in particular. You look at the time. Punctual as always.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜᴇʏ ;)

Him.

Nj_94 was your most loyal client, but he only messaged you twice a week. It’d been almost four months since you first started talking to him and you’d be lying if you said his messages didn’t leave you feeling giddy inside. Granted, you’ve never met him, nor do you even know what he looks like, but it didn’t exactly matter to you. Getting to know him over the soft pink message threads of the Cybersex app, you've definitely grown a soft spot for him. There was something about his cute, albeit awkward, self that sometimes had your mind brewing up visions of him beneath you, quivering and begging and-

You digress.

Your back hits the soft silk sheets of your bed, deciding to make him wait a bit. If there was anything you loved more than your little sessions with nj_94, it was teasing him. 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜɪ…

There’s not a moment for you to put down your phone before there’s a chain of pings! echoing through the quietness of your bedroom.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜɪ 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴜ 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏ?  

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ᴠᴇʀʏ.  

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ… 

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ…

The text appears and reappears several times before his message finally graces your screen.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ... ᴍɪss ᴍᴇ?

Of course you did, but you’d never tell him that. You sit up on your headboard, playing with the frill of your shorts for a few moments before typing out your message.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴍᴍ... ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴜ?

On the other side of the screen lays Jungkook on his bed, eyes wide as he stares at your message. He knew you were going to ask him about it, but he didn’t think you’d do it right away. Of course he listened. And he enjoyed it an embarrassing amount, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone except you. Shaky fingers tap on the screen of his phone, typing out his response before he clicks the send button.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʙᴀʙʏ?

His heart quickens when he reads the sentence. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call him pet names, but it usually meant he was in for the night. And probably on your good side.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɢᴏᴏᴅ. ʀʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ.  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ ᴄᴍᴏɴ ʙᴀʙʏ... ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɴᴏ ɪ 

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ... ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴡɪᴄᴇ

A blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks almost immediately after he types out the message. No matter how many times he’s texted you the most indecent and lewd words, he’ll probably never be able to fight the shyness that accompanies it.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ? 

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ… ᴀʀᴇ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪᴛ?

Jungkook glances down at his bare thighs, where the thin fabric wraps around his hips. He gulps.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟺.ᴊᴘɢ]

There’s a moment where your mouth hangs open, watering at the sight of his salacious thighs. But, the thin black lace barely covering his prominent bulge is what makes you squeeze your thighs together. If his texts weren’t enough to show how desperate he was for you, this unexpected picture definitely got the point across. God, he was such a—

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ. 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.]sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜ ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ

Jungkook's heart throbs, or is that his dick? Either way, it's almost humiliating how easy it is for you to rile him up from a few words. You just had that effect on him. And, god, did he fucking love it.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜᴍ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss :(

This was... new. Usually, you only allow him to be the one receiving all the attention and pleasure. Despite the waning professionalism in your relationship, this was still your job. It was only after your sessions that you'd grant yourself to come to the fresh memory of his whining and pleading. But who were you to deny him?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ...ᴏᴋ ʙᴀʙʏ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʀ ᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ 𝟺 ᴜ…

His fingers itch, his cock aching for any form of relief, but he knows better than to do anything without your permission. Besides, you make it all worth it in the end.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ 𝟸 ᴛɪᴍᴇs 𝟸ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡɴᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ, ʜᴜʜ? 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʏᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ 𝟸 ᴅᴏ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

nj_94 has sent 3,000 hearts!

[𝟷:𝟻𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇᴇᴇ

You laugh breathlessly despite the wetness building between your thighs at his begging. Your hand slips behind your back, unclipping your bralette before slipping it off and throwing it somewhere in your room. You angle the camera so that only the top half of your body shows before snapping the picture.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟻.ᴊᴘɢ]

Fuck. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of the image of your bare chest. Your hand sits right above the band of your thin panties, before the image cuts off. There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you bite your lip, staring straight into the camera. Jungkook can’t help it, he whines. His hand is pulling the black panties down to his mid thigh before he can think. He sighs at the feeling, grabbing the strawberry lube -your favorite- from his nightstand drawer and squirting a generous amount into his palm. He begins to leisurely stroke his member before a ping! from his phone interrupts him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ?  

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀs. ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴɢ ʜᴏᴛᴛ 

[𝟸:𝟶𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪsʜ ɪ ᴡs ᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡ ᴜ

You wish so too. To have him begging to touch you, to feel you, right in front of you? Fuck, it definitely did things to you. He did things to you. And you wanted to show him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟼.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

Jungkook’s hand falters when he sees you’ve sent a video. Not that it was uncommon, but usually he’d have to send hearts first. But, he decides not to question it, instead choosing to click on the video. It takes a few moments to load, but once the first few seconds start playing, Jungkook’s mouth drops. 

Your fingers are in your mouth, sucking and lathering them in spit before they trail down your body and under the fabric of your thin panties. Jungkook doesn’t need to see it, no, he can hear how wet you are. The sounds of your soft moaning and your fingers entering you drive Jungkook utterly wild, and he finds himself whimpering. He can’t stop watching the way you bite your lips and giggle, as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Of course you knew. 

Jungkook replays the video, deliberate strokes of his hand sounding through the quietness of his room. “F-fuck, ____... what are you doing to me...” There’s another ping! that seems to reverberate in his head, and Jungkook slows his movements before he can get too lost in the endless ocean of his thoughts.

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴘᴇᴇᴄʜʟᴇss, ʙᴀʙʏ? 

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʀ ʀ ᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʙᴄ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ?  

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ɪ ᴄɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ 

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛғʟʟ 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ sɴᴇᴅ sᴍᴛʜɴ ɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ?  

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏғᴄ ʙᴀʙʏ

A few minutes pass before your phone finally vibrates, your screen lighting up with a new message. 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟼𝟽.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

You hesitate for a bit, biting your lip before you press play. The sound of his hand fervently sliding up and down his shaft fills your ears, soft whines of pleasure slipping through the speaker of your phone. If you weren't turned on before, you definitely were now. Your hand travels down your body, slipping underneath your panties. Gasping at the pool of your wetness, your hand moves along your clit expertly as his hand slides along the mess of precum and red lube. Strawberry.

Right as the video is reaching the last ten seconds, your hands speed up against your heat. Your thoughts are clouded, lidded eyes staring at nj_94’s huge cock. Right before the video ends, you hear his voice, muttering nonsense, but that isn’t what makes you cease your motions. “F-fuck, ____, see what you do to me.”

It’s clear he doesn't realize he’s said your name, your actual name. But that's not even the weirdest part. No, because the voice sounds too familiar to you. Similar to the voice of— ping!

nj_94 has sent 5,000 hearts!

[𝟸:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғᴄᴋ ɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴇs 

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʟᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴍᴍ 

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss?  

[𝟸:𝟹𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟽.ᴊᴘᴇɢ]

The still image of your drenching core is enough for Jungkook to spill his seed all over his hand. His hand slows as he pumps the last spurts of his cum, chest heaving harshly. He grabs a couple of tissues from his nightstand, using it to clean the cum off of his fingers.

[𝟸:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ  

[𝟸:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏғ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

[𝟸:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼:,, ɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ 

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ... 

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

Jungkook’s head is spinning, but he doesn’t think it’s from the breathtaking orgasm you had just given him. He’s on edge as he watches the little typing bubble appear and disappear multiple times. What could you possibly be ‘thinking’ about? Were you thinking of ending this whole thing? Oh god, were you thinking of—!

[𝟸:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ?

No, this was definitely much worse. Jungkook never would have guessed how far this would have gone when he first impulsively texted you all those months ago. After the first two months, when the sexting had turned into a regular thing, he knew you’d eventually grow curious.  He knew you’d eventually ask. And, god, does he wish he had the fucking balls to tell you. 

Jungkook would be lying if he said this hadn’t turned into something more than just sexting. At least for him. He wasn’t really sure how you felt about him, though sometimes the things you’d say when you were coaxing him into an orgasm would go to his head, and he’d think, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more as well.

But after he’d come down from his high, and come down back to reality, Jungkook knew it was just wishful thinking. How could you have feelings for someone you’ve never met, never seen? Even if you did, it wasn’t Jungkook you felt something for, it was nj_94. Which, yes technically was him, but not to you. You probably thought it was, well, literally anyone except your nerd of a neighbor who was too much of a coward to tell you who he was. What the hell would he even tell you? How the hell would he tell you?

“Oh, hey, _____! You know that guy you’ve been sexting consistently through Cybersex for four months? Well, surprise! It’s been me the entire goddamn time!”

SLAP!

Yet, even in the safety of his imagination, you're fuming, ears blowing steam as you slam the door in his face. A demand to never speak to you again, and Jungkook sinks into the floor from shame and embarrassment. Sometimes, you’d laugh in his face, disbelieving, or worse, unwanting of him.

Jungkook’s mind was a weird and ghastly place.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at your message, but he sees you’ve gone offline, probably tired of waiting for him to reply. His thumbs hover over the keypad of his phone, but he can’t bring himself to say anything, not even to jokingly brush you off. There have been many moments before where you’ve brought up what nj_94 looks like, but somehow this time it feels different. Jungkook can’t pin down the feeling coiling in his stomach, so he does what he does best.

He ignores it.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The blaring sound of your alarm fills the once quiet room, ripping you away from your peaceful slumber, and you groan loudly into your pillow. Your hand fumbles around your nightstand as you try to blindly reach for your phone. Once you're able to turn off your alarm, you hear the pounding at the door. You lift your head, able to make out muffled calls of your name through your clouded mind. Who the fuck is trying to knock the door down so early in the morning? 

You choose to bury your face in your pillows again, shifting the duvet over your head in order to block out the noise. Reaching for your phone once again, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright screen, and- oh, shit, you’re running late... again.

You throw the covers off your body, almost falling over the heap of clothes strewn over your bedroom floor. The knocking continues, and you rush out of your room, throwing the door open without sparing another glance at who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Give me five minutes!”

The figure chuckles, entering the threshold as you run back to your bedroom to throw on something presentable. “Rough night?” he says, voice sounding muffled through the closed door.

You laugh breathlessly, “More like rough weekend.” but you’re sure your voice is too quiet to be heard. Hastily brushing your teeth, you attempt to slip on your sweatpants at once. Following your successful multitasking and finishing your morning routine in record time, you emerge from your bedroom. Grabbing your keys and book bag from the living room, you pad over to the shoe rack near the front door.

“Wow, you should start waking up late every day if you’re gonna get ready this fast.”

You roll your eyes turning to shoot Jungkook a glare, “Don’t worry, I’ll start taking my time now just for you.”

Not waiting for a response, you open the door, gesturing for him to exit. He curtsies before he begins walking down the hallway to the elevator, you following closely behind.

-----

There’s something different about you today.

You’re quiet, gazing into the distance as you both walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away from your university campus. He tries to think nothing of it, chalking it up to the sleepiness still wearing off from the early morning. But usually you’d be pointing out random things on the street, or teasing Jungkook endlessly. And maybe he might miss the (albeit playful and meaningless) flirting, but he’d never say that out loud.

You reach the shop without a word, the sound of the city waking up and Jungkook’s boots hitting the pavement the only source of noise between you. When you reach the cashier, you’re still dazed, and if Jungkook didn’t know your order by heart (something he also would never admit), you’d probably forgo ordering anything.

Despite noticing all the things off today, Jungkook decides to not ask. He really doesn't want to push you to talk. And you’d come to him if there was something really bothering you.

At least that’s what Jungkook tried to do, but when you continue to be off in your own world, unknowingly ignoring his attempts at making conversation, he decides fuck that. And even though Jungkook would deny, again, if anyone would ever ask him, he does care deeply for you. Anything bothering you, bothers him.

“Alright, what’s up?” he asks, trying to seem casual despite rethinking the words a thousand times in his head.

“Huh?” you blink, coming back down to earth. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sends you a disbelieving look, “You know what I mean. I asked you three times if you wanted a piece of my cheese danish, and you haven’t said a word since we left your apartment. So, what’s up?”

You duck your head, suddenly feeling bashful for ignoring Jungkook, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about... him since the weird conversation you had on Friday. And to make matters worse, the fucker has been ignoring you. The only times he has bothered to text, was only to cancel your Saturday night appointment, despite the money already being transferred to your account. And when you tried to send it back, he declined the request without a word. Everything that he does leaves you more confused than before, and now you’re left to deal with these gross feelings building inside you. 

Because even if you’re trying to ignore it, and him, as much as possible, your stupid brain can’t help thinking about all the sessions you’ve had with him, and all the mundane conversations that crossed the strictly business and purely sexual line. It was all too much, and you wished you could make sense of at least some of it, but now he won’t even talk to you. You can’t help thinking that maybe you had imagined it all. That maybe you had somehow convinced yourself that he felt the same way you did.

Or maybe he felt that it was becoming too much, too intimate, too serious, and wanted nothing to do with it. But even then, why couldn’t he have just told you that? Why did he have to fucking ghost you, for crying out loud? Why did-!

“Hello? Earth to _____!”

You blink, eyes focusing on the hand waving in front of your face. “Fuck, did I do it again?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. What the hell is up with you today? “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you hesitate, because what would you even call this? The whole situation is weird if you were to explain it to, well, literally anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook thinks you work as a coder from home. “Boy problems.” 

Jungkook clears his throat, averting his eyes and choosing to focus on the grey concrete beneath him. “O-oh,” and as much as he doesn’t want to know about the other guy who’s got you so in your head, he still asks, “do you want to talk about it?”

You’re quiet for a moment, and Jungkook thinks that you might not say anything, that you might brush him off. He almost sighs in relief but then-

“Well, there’s this guy, and well- uhm,” you stare at the iced coffee in your hands, contemplating how to word your thoughts without actually spilling your secret. “We’ve never actually met, or anything, but we’ve been talking through this,” you pause again, glancing at Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched, “dating site. And well, we’ve been talking for about four months...” 

Jungkook almost trips over his own feet whipping his head to look at you. You’re still talking, but now his brain is hazy and he can't think straight. No...  you couldn’t... you’re not... you can’t be... you can’t be talking about... him, right? There’s... there’s no way. It has to be someone else. It has to be a coincidence that almost everything you’re saying sounds exactly like your relationship with... nj_94. Right? Right, of course, you’re definitely talking about someone else and it’s all in his-!

“...and when i asked, if uh, i’d ever get to see him, he kinda ghosted me, so, yeah.” you laugh nervously, noting the way Jungkook hasn't said a thing.

But, Jungkook is more sure than ever that you’re talking about him, well, not him, but nj_94, which technically- ok, you know what? It doesn’t matter because he feels nauseous and he’s sure he’s about to empty the contents of his stomach right here on campus in front of everyone. And now you’re looking at him with worry in those beautiful gleaming eyes of yours and oh, god, he needs to do something, anything to make this go away. Jungkook opens the lid of his coffee, taking a huge gulp without thinking anything of it because- OH FUCK!

IT’S FUCKING SCALDING. OH, GOD HIS TONGUE IS FUCKING BURNING AND HE’S SPUTTERING AND SPITTING THE COFFEE BACK OUT AND FUCK, IS HE SWEATING? IT’S SIXTY FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE AND HE’S SWEATING? NOW YOU’RE LOOKING AT HIM WITH CONCERN IN THOSE BEAUTIFUL GLEAMING EYES- wait, isn’t that the exact reason he’s stuck in this situation? God, what were you doing to him?

Jungkook barely registers the fact that you’ve both stopped walking, and are standing underneath one of the big trees on your campus. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he realizes through his mess of a mind that it's yours. 

“Jesus, Kook, are you okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, like a liar because no, he’s not okay, far from it actually. Because you’re fucking talking about him, and you don’t even fucking know it. God, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like this. Truthfully, Jungkook doesn't exactly know why he’s been ignoring you. It was in a panic that he had cancelled your next session, afraid to talk to you after the sucker move he had pulled Friday night. 

And he knows, he fucking knows that avoiding it is just making it worse. And that it won't go away, no matter how much he tries to ignore it. Jungkook is at a loss for what to do, and it's not like he could go to his friends to ask for help. This whole situation was too fucking absurd to even bother explaining. But if there was one good thing coming from this, it was learning that you did actually care about him, or...erm...nj_94, at the very least. Sure, there were almost a million other things Jungkook had to figure out, but hey, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Jungkook unconsciously pouts, willing the tingling on his tongue to go away. He’s too busy glaring at the offending coffee in his hands to notice the way your worried stare turns into one of suspicion, if only for a moment.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

His head whips up at that, eyes widening at your words. Innocent and insignificant, yet Jungkook can’t help but think of the videos where you use the same tone. He’s sure that he’s completely forgotten the scalding burn on his tongue now. And it’s then that he sees it. The amused glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are pursed, seemingly holding back a laugh.

You’re making fun of him.

Jungkook scoffs, pushing your hand off his shoulder. You offer him the ice in your now empty cup, but he only rolls his eyes. You both toss your drinks in the can next to you, continuing the walk to your morning class. 

And he tries to act upset, he really does, but when he sees you start to laugh, he can’t help but do the same.

 [ :: ENTER... the (cyber)boy of your dreams ::]

There’s a familiar ping! that sounds through your bedroom, making you run out of your bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth as you reach for your charging phone. 

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟸 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ ʜᴏᴡ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ?

Trying to ignore the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, you roll your eyes at his compliment. Typing out a response, you hit send before chucking your phone across your bed, huffing as you plop onto your mattress.

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴏ ᴜ sᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴜʀ ɪɴʙᴏx?  

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ ;)

Jimin was a bit of an icon in the cybersex world, adored by fans and other cyberboys alike. His videos centered on a more… demanding persona, which is what got him his mass audience. It obviously worked in his favor, if a peek at his account was anything to go by.

ParkJimin 

@mincams

1,500,000 monthly viewers / 10,183,209 hearts

Most Popular: be a good girl, would you? / 7,937,937 views

And while a lot of cyberboys faked their personalities on screen, everything Jimin did had a sense of genuinity, and there was no doubt he was just as dominating in real life as he was on camera. You’d know better than anyone.

Jimin had begun texting you a few months ago, right when your videos had begun charting. It definitely took you by surprise, having only been messaged by two other cybergirls asking where you had bought your lingerie. And seeing his immense following only made you question it even more. What did he want to do with you when there were so many others who were more... on his level? 

Yet, despite you sometimes disregarding his messages due to the suspicion you had in the early weeks, there would still be a text from him every Wednesday without a doubt. This obviously led to you, eventually, texting him back, if only to satiate your curiosity. And well, he was definitely... intriguing, considering the fact that you’ve been speaking ever since. Though, your ‘acquaintance’  with him has definitely crossed that line of playful flirtiness and frisky texting.

Cyber fuck buddies was probably the best way to describe your relationship with Jimin now. One lonely, frustrating late night had led to you and Jimin exchanging some very lewd thoughts with each other. And yes, although you had broken your second rule of being a cybergirl, the intense orgasm Jimin had given you was enough for you to... tweak them a bit. 

See, at the beginning of your Cybersex journey, you had set rules for yourself, if only to make your job easier. And rule number two was to never get involved with a cyberboy. And, really, you were doing a great job at ignoring them completely, then Jimin had managed to slip his way into your life. But could you really blame yourself? Jimin was fucking hot, and you had your own desires that needed to be satisfied every once in a while. When he had just offered himself up, what were you supposed to do? Say no? It’s not like you were fucking him in real life anyway. 

So, you changed that rule to never fuck a cyberboy. Harder to actually break and straight to the point. And yet... here you were, thinking of bringing none other than Park fucking Cyberboy Jimin onto your next show.

And you know, it sounds fucking stupid because what the hell? Did you not go over your own rules just now? But Jimin was the only one that could (possibly) help you in this very... unique situation. And, no, you were not gonna fuck him. Despite how much you’ve bent your rules, you were still going to try to respect them. Besides, you had other plans for him. 

Like you mentioned before, Jimin was as demanding in his videos as in real life. Yet, there he’d be, in your direct messages, damn near begging for an opportunity to film a video with you. 

Who would have thought that Park Jimin, the one who has everyone begging for him, actually wanted to be on his knees for you. 

And at first it was easy to brush it off as a meaningless joke. Hell, you’d even respond back with a quip of your own. But when he actually explained himself, you had to say, all his points were very convincing. Something about gaining a bigger platform and a more ‘enlightening’ sexual experience. But, you had never brought anyone on your channel, and honestly, you had brushed the idea of a ‘partnership’ with him to the back of your mind. That is, until now.

Now, you needed him more than ever, for your own reasons.

[𝟸:𝟸𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴜʀ ᴏғғᴇʀ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ... ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ?  

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀsᴋ 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs   

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ. 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs.  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸4 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʀs? 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴜʀᴇ...ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɴ ᴡᴇ ғɪʟᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴀᴛ. 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴇᴀʟ?  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ, sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.  

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ... 

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴅᴇᴀʟ. 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴛᴜʀᴅᴀʏ ;)

The buzz of quiet conversation fills the room, accompanied by the sounds of the documentary playing on the projector that no one could be seen paying attention to. Even the professor seemed to be falling asleep grading papers near the corner of the room. There were excited whispers of a party later tonight, but you, you were ecstatic for reasons completely different.

“Pssst! Jungkook!”

Jungkook lifts his head, looking around before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and almost jumps back in shock from how close your face is to his. 

“Uh, yeah?” he whispers back.

There’s something in your smile that throws him off, demure and something else he can’t seem to figure out. Maybe Jungkook pays too much attention to anything you do. Fuck, you're driving him crazy just sitting there.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Uh, no... why?” he stutters, and maybe it’s just the dark lighting in the room, but he swears he sees your eyes gleam. 

“No reason,” you respond, leaning your head against your hand. Your other hand comes to toy with the necklace sitting around your neck. “But I’d advise you to stay home this weekend.”

His eyes widen. What the fuck? Did Jungkook hear you correctly? Or is he starting to hear things too? What the hell are you doing to him? “W-what?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the... show,” you make sure to look right into his eyes, “playing tomorrow night. I heard it was going to be really special.”

Jungkook blinks multiple times, sure the confusion and shock is written on his face as he stares at you. Fuck, he doesn’t know if he heard you correctly, and he’s too afraid to ask. He’s only able to dumbly murmur a “what?”

You only smile, no indication that those words had actually left your mouth. Except the fact that Jungkook had seen it. “There’s supposed to be a storm tomorrow. It’s not safe to go out.”

The lights flicker back on, and students begin to get up to leave the lecture hall. Jungkook is glued to his chair, staring at the desk you had just been sitting in. He’s too stunned to even bother thinking of a response, but luckily (or unluckily) you don’t seem to mind it. Instead you rise from your seat, swinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“I’ll see you later, Jungkook.”

He glances up, swallowing hard at the coy grin on your face. Jungkook can’t help but follow your movement, watching as you pause at the door. You turn your head, making sure that you meet his eyes once again before winking at him. You take your leave, disappearing down the hallway but lingering in Jungkook’s mind.

There was... no way you knew, right? He’d been so careful not to let anything slip. Maybe you were talking about a TV show? As much as Jungkook tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, that no, you didn’t know about his not-so-little secret, somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice kept telling him that it was futile.

He’s embarrassed to admit that once he gets into the safety of his apartment, he runs to his computer, biting his nails as he waits for it to turn on. Jungkook clicks on the pink heart icon in the corner of his home screen, inputting his memorized account information.

USERNAME: nj_94

PASSWORD: boyzwithfun97

Jungkook hasn’t logged onto Cybersex since last Saturday, but searching for your name is like clockwork. Right as he clicks on your profile, he sees you’ve made a new post. Usually, Fridays were the days you went live, but apparently things were different tonight.

[9 MINUTES AGO] SWEETHEART666 said:

no live tonight, babes. vv special video coming tomorrow <3.

Yeah, he was completely and utterly fucked.

[ :: JOINING... the valley ::]

Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel.

He doesn’t even know what to expect. It’s finally Saturday, well Saturday morning and Jungkook finds himself lying in his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling. He’s already dreading the day, knowing that all that would be on his mind today would be you, and your stupid, vague words with your stupid smirk and, fuck, let’s just be real for a second; Jungkook has never been more mortified in his twenty-three years of living. Though if anyone were to ask, he’d say he’s doing fucking peachy, like the liar he is.

He hasn’t seen you since yesterday when you almost gave him a stroke from those borderline seductive words of yours. Fuck, a “show”? What else could you possibly mean? Did you know that he watched your videos? For Jungkook’s sake, he prays to whoever is up there that that’s all you know. The walls of the apartments are thin, thin enough for Jungkook to hear you moaning every time you film, and definitely flimsy enough for you to catch the sound of your name tumbling from his lips almost every goddamn time he comes. But, god, does he really wish he knew how you felt about everything. Instead of leaving him in the dark, he wished you would have at least told him you weren't angry at him for watching your videos in secret.

Oh, how things have taken a turn.

Something Jungkook is great at is pushing away his feelings. Which, in hindsight, has definitely never ever gone even remotely in his favor. Does that stop him from burying it all down? No. But it definitely has taught him ways to distract himself from anything and everything. And one of his favorite distractions is working out. In the gym located in the lower level of his apartment complex, he’s able to filter out the world, his thoughts, and throw all the shit he’s pushed down onto the treadmill. He focuses on the loud drumming of his playlist, pressing down on the arrow button until he’s completely drenched in sweat, panting from the thirty-minute sprint. Then it's weight lifting, which isn't as distracting as he’d like it to be, but if he turns his music up louder, he can't hear the way his brain is screaming at him to just! make! sense! of! his! feelings!

But it only lasts a short hour and a half during the workout. Now, all Jungkook can focus on is the way he hasn't ridden this elevator with you in what seems like forever, and how much he misses talking to you, even if it's just as nj_94. He wonders if maybe he’ll catch sight of you walking back from doing your laundry like he always does when he comes back from his Saturday workouts. Much to his dismay, there’s no sight of you when the elevator reaches your shared floor. His shoulders deflate, and he walks with his head down, feeling completely pathetic.

It’s only when he’s a few feet away from your apartment entrance that he spots the unfamiliar man leaning against your door. He’s poised, aura oozing with confidence and nonchalance. Jungkook slows his walking. Who the hell was he?

The man in question turns his head slightly, and consequently makes direct eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook feels his eyes widen at how attractive this man was. But, honestly, he would be more surprised if he saw you with someone who looked any less than a fucking god amongst mortals. The man looks Jungkook up and down, plump lips shifting into a smirk before he tilts his head. Jungkook tenses, throwing him a quick nod of the head. His smile widens before the door to your apartment opens, and he walks in, disappearing as quickly as the door shuts. 

Great, the last chance he had to see you before tonight was gone. No questions answered, but it was fine. Everything was fine. All he had to do was wait a bit more. Jungkook glances at his watch, sighing loudly before inputting the code, rather harshly, to his apartment.

Only five more hours.

Five minutes.

Jungkook has lost count of how many times he’s refreshed your profile page. He probably looks as crazy as he feels waiting for the clock to hit eleven. He doesn't know what he’s feeling. Excited? Unnerved? Terrified? Jungkook's willing to bet it might be all three.

The minutes seem to go agonizingly slow as if taunting him. The ticking of the clock above his bed threatens to send him into overdrive. He has half a mind to rip it from the nail on the wall and throw it across the room. Even the soft rain hitting his bedroom window makes him want to scream. But he knows every jumbled thought crossing his mind is just an attempt to distract him from the absolute fear he’s feeling right now.

Then finally, finally, after the umpteenth time Jungkook has refreshed the page, right when he feels he's about to implode and have his insides turn into mush, it appears. Right as the shorthand hits eleven.

● [LIVE!] ur fav boy on his knees... w/ a special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

2,039 viewing now

Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop beating, and he almost doesn't click on the live, he almost shuts his laptop and walks to the corner of his bedroom to rethink his actions in shame.

Almost.

The sight is familiar, one of your dimly-lit bedroom and a king-sized bed freshly made with black satin sheets. It’s a view Jungkook has grown all too accustomed to, after spending countless late nights watching you come undone under the same light. But tonight, everything has him on edge. Even the sensual music playing quietly in the background makes his heart rate increase. 

It takes another minute before you appear in frame, wearing that damned smirk on your face again. But now there’s a flash of something he can’t seem to name, that flickers in your eyes. Jungkook must either be losing his mind, or the camera was playing tricks. You greet everyone in that same sweet voice of yours, as you always do in every video. You wait a few more moments for more viewers to join, toying with the heart that hangs on the chain wrapped around your neck. Everything seemed normal so far, and for a split second, Jungkook is able to breathe again. But before his thoughts could get any further, he comes into the frame.

“Everyone, this is Minnie. You might know him as Jimin, or mincams. He’s the first person I’ve ever brought on my channel, so please be nice to him...”

The same guy that had been standing outside of your apartment door. Jungkook should’ve connected the dots. It was all right in front of his fucking eyes, yet he was too in his feelings to even realize it. This was your ‘special surprise’. 

Jimin’s face is eerily familiar, and Jungkook realizes that it’s not from the fleeting hallway interaction. No, he’s definitely seen him on the trending page of Cybersex multiple times. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize him at first, having clicked on his videos out of curiosity before. He briefly wonders how Jimin, the ever dominating and controlling Cyberboy, was so willing to get on his knees for you. Then again, Jungkook knew better than to doubt your authority over anyone. 

“...unless, of course, he misbehaves.”

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, mind failing to grasp the last few words that had tumbled from your mouth. Had he heard you right? Judging by the way Jimin’s eyes light up, he’s gonna take a wild guess and say that yes, this was going exactly where Jungkook thought it was. He looks down at his pants. Jungkook was definitely more excited than terrified now.

You stand from your spot on the floor, but Jimin stays kneeled right where he is, eyes following your movement behind the camera. Jungkook glances at the growing number of viewers, half probably from Jimin’s own audience. Just one look at the comments, he notes that this is definitely something his fans had been waiting for. 

“Sit on the bed. Strip down to your underwear.”

Even though he knows your words aren’t directed at him, Jungkook’s dick has a mind of its own. Sure, he’s watched the way you dominate during your solo shows, but seeing you order about another man, fuck, does it do things to Jungkook.

He watches as Jimin obeys immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed and almost ripping his shirt in his haste to please you. You walk into frame again, holding a piece of fabric in one hand. You trace your fingers over the slope of his nose, past his lips, and down the length of his neck. “Such a pretty face. Shame I have to cover it...” you pout, though your eyes are shining with mischief. Your hands bring the silk scarf around his eyes, tying it behind his head. 

Jungkook puts his hand over his growing bulge as you guide Jimin further back onto your bed. You turn him to the side, both of your bodies perfectly lining up with the camera. Fuck, is it driving Jungkook absolutely wild knowing that this was all happening just on the other side of the wall behind him. God, the things he’d do to be in Jimin’s place. Or just be there in person.

You’re on his lap now, nipping at his neck as Jimin’s soft moans filter through the speakers of his computer. Your hands, however, are kept at your side, only making Jimin’s pleas for your touch more desperate. Yet, you give into none of it. Pulling away from him, but not without another whine from the blinded man, you grin. “So whiny.” 

Jungkook pauses his clothed palming, waiting with bated breath as you go behind the camera once again. The sight of Jimin’s flushed cheeks and harsh breathing makes his dick harden impossibly more. You appear in frame, this time with an unfamiliar object in your hand. Your hand goes to Jimin’s chest, and he jumps from surprise, then immediately after whines at your soft caresses. Once his nipple stiffens, your other hand clamps the pink clip onto it, prompting a gasp from both Jimin and Jungkook.

Jungkook watches as you adjust the tightness while struggling to pull down his pants laying down. Jimin looks even more flustered than before, hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. “Does it feel okay?” he hears you whisper, and Jimin nods eagerly. You chuckle, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” Jimin’s voice is strangled, and Jungkook can see the painful swell of his cock outline through the camera lens. “It’s perfect.” 

“Good.” you pat his cheek before pushing him to lie down on his back. Another piece of fabric comes to wrap around Jimin’s wrists, placing them above his head. You climb over his body, opting to lay over his thighs, just below his prominent erection. “Tell me, baby,” Jungkook’s eyes catch the matching pink remote in your hand and the smirk on your face. Your thumb presses down on the button, and the sudden sounds of buzzing mixed with Jimin whining sets Jungkook’s skin ablaze. “Is it ok if I use you for tonight?”

“F-fuck, y-yes, p-please use me, sweetheart.” 

Jungkook has his hand on his shaft, leisurely stroking as he watches you press the button once again. The humming stops, but Jimin is left gasping, back arching off the sheets. The sight spurs Jungkook further, and he brings his own hand to his erect nipples, pinching hard. You move to straddle Jimin’s thigh before lifting the other clamp to his mouth. “Open up, baby.”

Jimin quickly complies, opening his mouth wide enough for your index finger and thumb to enter. His lips wrap snugly around them, sucking until you tap his cheek. Your fingers and the clamp emerge drenched in his spit, but Jungkook only gets a glance before you’re shoving them beneath your thin mesh slip-on. The clamps come to life once again, you and Jimin releasing simultaneous moans of ecstasy. 

There’s a thin sheen of sweat building on Jungkook’s skin as he pumps himself harder, whining at the sight. God, he’s never wanted to be beneath you as much as he wants to now. He watches as you press the remote once again, giggling quietly at Jimin’s complaining. Jungkook stops his stroking, despite how much he wants to continue, realizing he’d probably make himself come unintentionally. And he could tell you were just getting started.

Your hand trails down the expanse of his chest, trailing down his toned stomach before stopping right above the place Jimin wants you the most. Your touches are playful, teasing as you use your other hand to reattach the wet clip on Jimin’s bare nipple. Jimin gasps when you press your hand down on his erection. “Nngh, sweetheart. It hurts.” he pouts, and Jungkook is almost sure if he wasn’t blindfolded, he’d be giving you puppy eyes. 

But you’re inexorable.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?” you’re still talking to Jimin, but you look straight at the camera, and at Jungkook, as you say it, lashes fluttering.

Now that makes Jungkook cease his motions. Even in his hunger-ridden mind, the words feel strangely familiar, like he’s heard them before, but in a different situation. Jungkook can’t seem to remember, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. You’ve left Jimin alone on the bed again, standing beside as you slowly strip yourself of your underwear. Hearts blow up the screen as you smirk at the camera. “Everyone’s so needy today, huh?”

You crawl up next to Jimin, tracing your fingers lightly over his toned chest. “You could probably come from these alone.” Jimin voices his pleading objections, desperate to feel your hands elsewhere, but you leave his side once again, walking closer to the camera. “Hmm, let’s ask your fans what they think.”

There’s no need to even glance at the video chat, because your laugh says it all. “Looks like they want you like this, Minnie.” He arches his back of the bed, attempting to plead with you for more stimulation. “Nnngh, please, sweetheart.” Yet you only giggle quietly. Your hand reaches for the remote off to the side before you turn the clamps on once again. Jimin’s breathy moans are loud, loud enough to filter through your shared wall, and Jungkook gulps. 

Leaving Jimin alone on the bed once again, you emerge with a silver bowl in your hand. You crawl onto his thighs again, clicking the button and halting Jimin’s pleasure. Your fingers pick up an ice cube before tracing it down his chest. Jimin shivers at the coolness, but otherwise stays quiet, waiting for your next move. When you reach the band of his boxers, you leave the ice cube to melt on his abs before pulling them down and letting his cock hit his stomach. Jimin gasps at the cold wetness, tied hands digging into the mattress above his head. “Is that better, Minnie?” he only nods in response, and this time it’s enough for you. 

Jungkook glances at the mess on his lap, a mix of his precum and spit lathered all over his shaft and hand. He looks back at his screen, and he sees you’ve crawled over his chest, nearing his face. Your hand goes to cradle his jaw, using your thumb to trace his bottom lip. “Tell me, Minnie, is this mouth only good for whining and complaining?” Jimin shakes his head fervently, tongue coming out to lick at your thumb. “Hmm, mind if I test it for myself then?”

Jimin swallows, trying to find his voice. “Please.”

You push his head back onto the bed, placing your knees on either side of his head. Another ice cube finds its way to your hand, and you bring it to Jimin’s lips. “Open, Minnie.” he complies, sucking the ice into his mouth. His mouth is left agape, and you smile, pleased. “Good boy.” 

You slowly sink down, just enough for Jimin to start licking and sucking your heat. You gasp, holding your breath before letting out a small whimper. The hand that’s not steadying you holds the remote, pressing down on the button once again. Jimin groans into your clit. Jungkook watches the way your back arches with pleasure as his hand speeds up on his dick. He imagines being the one underneath you, eating you out like he’s wanted to for so long. Jungkook tries to be quiet, he truly does, but, fuck, just the vision of you spread out above him, makes him moan out loud.

“C’mon, Minnie, louder. Don’t you want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel?” Jungkook doesn’t realize how loud Jimin is until he hears his moans clearer through the wall than his computer speaker. Jungkook swallows down his whines as best he can, but when he sees the way your toes curl from Jimin’s unrelenting mouth, he can’t help it anymore. He’s sure the noises falling from his mouth can be heard as clearly as Jimin’s, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he’s so close to his own release.

Your whimpers only spur Jungkook further, and he’s too lost in the way you smirk straight at the camera to worry about his volume anymore. He groans, on the edge of ecstasy when your voice sounds through his clouded mind. “C’mon, baby boy, I know you can do it.” White flashes behind his eyelids, and he comes in spurts of white all over his stomach. Jungkook doesn’t notice the way all light in his room has suddenly shut off, leaving him with only the glow of his dying computer to luminate him. 

When Jungkook finally opens his eyes, there’s nothing but darkness, the harsh sound of rain splattering against his window and the howling noise of the wind mixing with his harsh breathing. Even Jimin’s whines and the humming of his laptop has stopped. The post orgasm haze clouding in his mind the only indication that whatever just happened was actually real.

CLICK!

[ENDED] ur fav boy on his knees w/ special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

687,982 viewers / 2,298,836 hearts

#16 on trending 

“Fuck.” he mutters, finally grasping the fact that the power had gone out. But, it’s when Jungkook’s eyes adjust to the darkness, that it comes back to him. Something you said that sounded too familiar, and this time he knows it’s not his imagination. 

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?”

It becomes clearer as his breath evens out.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

You know.

© dewykth. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, translate or modify.

[inkedtae]

fountain of fantasies ⇾ jjk. [M]

⟶ from the eros universe; you do not need to read eros to read this one shot

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ god!jungkook x curvy!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, greek mythology au, circa. 1800 au, historical au, light fluff, angst, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ you rather be engaging in heart racing activities than in heart breaking ones

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 15.6k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jungkook, bigdick!jungkook, buff!jungkook, winged!jungkook, longhair!jungkook, ponytail!jungkook, sub!reader, slightly insecure!reader, shy!reader, mentions and consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it folks), rough sex, playful-ish sex, semi-public sex, fountain sex, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight degradation, overstimulation, exhibition, a lil voyeurism, praise kink, anal, edging, squirting, choking, hair pulling, bodyworshipping, a lil motorboating, a lil begging, water play, a lil spit play, a lil breast play, ass play, a fountain of filth :)

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m too much of a hoe for greek god guk not to turn this into a mini-series... 

⤜ banner by ↠ @thebannershop​ (thank you dearie~)

⤜ beta’d by ↠  @moonmintrails​ (my soulmate~)

⤜ le playlist ↠

Plump plum juices leak from your violet stained lips. You watch the storm rage through the balcony windows. Flashes of lightning, streaks of raindrops and the wall-rattling thunder only stares back at you. The noise of the world around you would be just the perfect cover for all the sounds he draws out of you. Teeth sinking into the fruit’s flesh, you take another bite and fix your stockings. Topless, you lean back in your plush seat and cross your legs. 

You know he’s not coming. It’s been a week since his last visit, a week of staying up late only to fall asleep and wake up to a new toy. You glance at your bed. The collection of gifts under it do not compensate for his absence. You don’t want the ruby dildos or golden anal plugs. You can live without the silver tit-clamps and sapphire pearled whips. It’s him you won’t do without. 

But tonight would be a perfect night of fun. You swallow your bite before taking another one as your mind circles every dirty thought you’ve been wanting to entertain for the last seven days. Staring out the rain stained windows, the one that appeals to you the most for tonight would be on that balcony, where it started all those months ago. The thought of being drenched in rainwater while he bends you over the railing makes you squeeze your crossed legs together. And the fluttering flap of his wings as they shake out the storm prickles your skin with goosebumps. Wet hands tangled in your wet hair. Loud moans blended in the loud thunder. 

An urgent knock raps on your door. You sit up, letting out a shaky breath from the remnants of that fantasy. As you set your plum down by some grapes on the side table, you shoot to your feet to grab your robe. 

“Bunny,” Mary, your sister, whispers from the other side. 

The little childhood nickname brings a smile to your face. The two of you would play Wonderland in the garden as children and Mary would have you, Bunny, guide her down the right path. Now, she only ever calls you that when she’s nervous and struggling to admit it. 

Tying the robe around your waist, you eagerly let her in. “What is it, Mary?” You smile as she rushes past you. 

She doesn’t take a moment to properly greet you, darting to your little library instead. “Do you have that book about Mount Olympus?” She asks. Her freshly painted nails scrape over the spines of each book as you part your lips to reply. “Oh! Here it is!”

Returning to your seat, you watch your older sister skim through the pages. “Why the sudden interest in Greek gods?” 

“Michael mentioned something about Hera and I just wanted to- I knew it!” 

Chewing on another bite, you raise a brow at her. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear that tomorrow,” you chuckle around your food.

Mary pauses. Her eyes, previously gleaming with excitement, diminish into indifference. She clears her throat and shuts the book. “Mama says to never correct a man.”

You stuff your mouth with a big bite and avoid your sister’s gaze. There’s lots you have to say about your mother’s philosophy on love, but you know better than to voice those opinions. 

Mary continues talking, despite knowing your reservations about your mother. She holds the book to her chest and tentatively sits on your bed. “Mama wants me to talk to you about something.”

Slowly chewing, you glance at her. You already know where this is going. It’s another desperate attempt on your mother’s part to make sure you don’t wear the dress he had gifted you. She knows full well how much it reveals and how well it’s designed. You don’t care for your mother’s opinion though; you haven’t for months. It’s Mary’s opinion on the subject that matters to you. 

“But, I told her that I don’t want to lie to you.” She takes a moment to sigh then meets your gaze once more. “You’ll look gorgeous in that dress, Bunny,” she smiles. “And I have the perfect shoes for them too.”

A laugh bubbles out of your throat and you almost choke on your food. Mary laughs at your struggling state. “Oh, can we get ready for your party together?” You ask, perking up in your seat once you properly swallow your food. 

Mary’s excited gaze wavers. She glances back at the book before hesitantly nodding. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing…”

You give her a pointed look. Flopping down on the bed, Mary groans and stares up at the ceiling. “What do you think of Michael?” You part your lips to reply, but she continues, “I mean I know he’s from a good family, and can take care of me, and he’s so handsome.”

You bite your lip at the last comment. Michael is not exactly your type of heartthrob. But, then again, your senses have been obscured by a god, so now not a single person can look as handsome, as beautiful, as heavenly as your Eros. 

“But, he says and does things I’m not exactly…” She trails off. “And I think his previous courtship with Linette ended horribly.”

Her half-sentence rings some warning in your gut. However, by the way she avoids eye contact to stare at your crystal chandelier, you decide not to address it. “What makes you think so?” you ask instead.

“Well, that’s what he told me.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, you simply quirk a brow. Mary may be a couple of years older, but she still hasn’t grown out of her naive tendencies. You’re about to tell her that everything will be okay when you catch a familiar silhouette on your balcony. 

He’s here.

Mary shoots up off your bed. You fear for a second that she may have seen him, but then she asks, “So? What do you think?”

Gulping, you take a moment to collect your thoughts. Erasing the fact that he’s finally here from your mind, you try to remain focused on your sister. You want the best for her. You want her to be excited about who she marries and for the life she will spend with that person. And that’s why it takes you a world of restraint not to tell her that if she isn’t a hundred percent sure about marrying Michael, then maybe she shouldn’t. 

“Do you love him, Mary?” You ask. “And I don’t mean that ‘nobility’ love. I mean that, ‘makes you cry just thinking about losing him’ love.”

Mary hesitates.Your eyes flicker to the balcony where he continues to stand. Inhaling deeply, you silently ask him to wait just a second longer. 

“I think I do,” she smiles. 

Your heart shatters at her phrasing. I think. Where is the room for thinking when true love is at your door? You want to tell her that there shouldn’t be any of this ‘thinking’ nonsense. You either do or you don’t, you want to say. But her smile is so pure and eyes light up just enough that you don’t have the heart to take it all away. Besides, maybe she really does love him. 

“Then, I think he’s perfect for you.”

Mary grabs the book and jumps to her feet. “Let’s meet in my room at seven,” she smiles, ruffling through your hair on her way to the door. “Have a good night, Bunny.”

“You too,” you smile as she shuts the door with a wink. The gesture is unusual but you suppose she’s just excited about the party tomorrow. You’re not exactly sure why she did it and with a winged god at your door, you can’t find it in you to care for too long. 

Darting to the balcony, you pull open the doors to be greeted by empty winds and heavy raindrops. Those wings are gone, balcony vacant of anything but despair. Not even a gift replaces his presence. You hold your tears back and swallow the growing lump in your throat. Your time is not one of his toys, nor is it free. You’ve run out of patience. You’re empty of reason, thriving on broken feelings. 

Shakily sighing, you bury the hurt in your voice and whisper, “if you can’t stay, don’t come at all.”

Sparkling diamonds, glasses, and wine circle the ballroom. Sipping on your drink, you take in the gleaming marble floors and the arches of the grand windows. The Barbury Estate is twice the size of yours. You want to believe that your mother’s delight in Mary’s proposal has more to do with her happiness than the fact that her fiancé is riddled with more wealth than he knows what to do with. But, you know that your mother has a special bond with money. It’s the same relationship she has with social standards. Her philosophy is simple; the more, the better. Now, if only your mother felt that way about you. 

No, wait. This night is not about you. An evening lost in a grand room of people only appeals to you when the occasion for such torture is your sister’s engagement party. Your chest swells with pride as you watch Mary dance with her fiancé. Michael Barbury is not exactly what you would call ‘prince charming.’ His jokes border on racism and thoughts are somewhat insipid, but he makes Mary happy. That’s all that matters to you. Her relapse in judgement last night does worry you. But you know that she’ll be happy with Michael. With Eros gone, you wonder how soon you’ll find a love like that too.

Mary’s graceful giggles cut you out of your trance. You blink once, twice until your senses fully return to you. Even the smallest thought of him throws you out of your consciousness. Settling your eyes back on your sister, watching as she basks in Michael’s unwavering attention and dotting devotion, you’re greeted with a sense of comfort. The guilt of not speaking your truth disappears and the fear of never finding love dissipates to the back of your mind. 

“Miss (Y/N)?” Lee Kyon asks, waving his hand in front of you. 

Right, you forgot he was there. Turning to face him once more, you flash Kyon a somewhat kind smile. “Yes, Mr. Lee?”

He furrows his brows. “Is everything alright?”

Perhaps everything would be alright if your mother didn’t constantly feel the need to set you up with the first poor man that accidently looks your way. Yes, you’re well aware of your mother’s behaviour and the fact that Kyon has no real interest in getting to know you. Judging by the way he continues to loop back to the same dull topic about the history of wine, you can tell that he is merely trying to keep the conversation short enough to be polite, but not long enough to be courting you. 

It’s not as though you care for his company either. Kyon has half of Michael’s intelligence. Even though you were only half-listening to his rant, you already pick out the few historical inaccuracies in his unprompted explanation. Of course, the worst thing you can do to a man is attack his wits and pride; that’s what your mother tells you anyway. It’s what worried Mary last night too. And you’ve tested that theory enough to know how true it is and how fun it can be. Watching them grapple for the right words, flare their nostrils in frustration and demand you apologize will always be just as humorous as when they try to “teach” you about language or art or, in Kyon’s case, history. 

Biting back a sigh, you nod and silently pray for a way out of this boring conversation and into something a bit more exciting. 

Clearing his throat, Kyon searches for a way to fill the silence. He then half-heartedly mutters, “You look darling this evening.”

Glancing down at your dress, your face heats up. The tiger lily-peach layers of satin and tulle fall down to your ankles. The pleated skirt mirrors the petals of a flower. Cleavage on display, the long flowy sleeves fall off your shoulders. Finished with a green ribbon around your waist and gleaming pink jewels, this is possibly the best dress he has gifted you. 

Your Eros left it, no wait- he’s not yours anymore. A friend left it hanging in your closet one morning after another passionate night in his embrace. It was a beautiful surprise to be woken up to and a manageable struggle to explain how it came into your possession. You can’t help but find it a bit ironic how your mother is desperate to set you up with the first man she sees, but hesitant to dress you up for the occasion. He must have known, must have felt your frustration towards your mistreatment. 

It takes everything in you to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You glance back up at Kyon, parting your lips to thank him when he continues, “And how brave of you to wear such a dress.”

You pause. “Brave?” 

Kyon smiles and nods. 

Is he really telling you what you think he is? Is he really undermining your confidence, undermining the beauty you know you have by commending your ‘bravery?’ No, you mustn’t judge too quickly. Perhaps he’s admiring your choice to go against expectations of covering up with a shawl. 

You swallow back your initial assumptions, and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Lee?”

“Well,” Kyon starts. He looks off to the side and raises both his brows before looking to you once more. His hazel eyes scan your figure, jaw clenching as he clears his throat. “A dress like this is traditionally worn by a woman that looks more like…” he trails off, eyes wandering as well. “Like Miss (L/N).”

A stinging chorus of hushed laughter strikes your pride. Your gut boils with shame and humiliation as your eyes bounce between the partygoers near you. You hadn’t realized they were eavesdropping. As a desperate attempt to ignore their maliciously amused looks, you follow Kyon’s gaze to Mary. Chewing on your lip, you ignore the urge to roll your eyes. This isn’t the first time someone has compared you to her, and you know very well that it won’t be the last. Even the utter disrespect of referring to you by your first name and your sister by your last name further displays their lack of recognition for you. In their eyes, you will forever remain as Miss (Y/N), the spinster-destined sister of Miss (L/N). And though you are certain that the twinge of pain and anger festering in your chest is for Kyon, you can’t help but be a little annoyed with your sister as well. 

But then she laughs, smiling so bright and wide. She looks up at Michael and rests her chin on his bicep, reveling in his attention and embrace. You realize, in her moment of happiness, that you can’t find it in you to hold this grudge against her. Your love for her is greater than your pride. Besides, she plays no part in your insecurities. And, you decide as you turn back to Kyon, neither will this privileged upperclassman.

“How brave,” you sigh with a single shouldered shrug. 

“What is, Miss (Y/N)?”

“How brave of you to believe anyone cares for your opinion.”

Kyon chokes on his drink. The partygoers, previously humoured by your embarrassment, relish in your courage to upstage Kyon. Gasping a giggle, you step back to avoid being spit on. He glares at you as he wipes his chin. You don’t hesitate to return that hard, hateful look in his eye. Raising a challenging brow, you dare him to attempt to embarrass you again.

He takes one step towards you, looking as though he’s about to grab at your arm when his stride is redirected. Kyon walks away without another word. You stare after him in confusion as he mutters an apology under his breath. 

You’re not sure what caused this sudden change in his angry course, but you’re all too happy to be rid of him to dwell on the thought of his motives much longer. He must’ve known how offensive his words were. True, most people compare you to your sister, but at least they have the decency to do it behind your back. You rather be physically absent from a conversation like that. It makes it easier to ignore and avoid the negativity. 

Confidence restored, you feel comfortable in your skin again. The dress is a perfect fit, the struggle to breath nowhere to be found, and sits well on your frame- despite what others think. However, you have very little time to revel in your victory as your mother stalks towards you.

“What have you done?” she hisses over your shoulder. Before you even have a chance to look back at her, she drags you by your arm to the edge of the room. “What did you say this time?”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips as you clasp your hands before you and reply, “He insulted me.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “And?” She questions as if waiting for a more substantial argument. 

“And?” You echo in confusion. “And he insulted me. I don’t see why that’s not enough of a reason to insult him back.”

She shakes her head and inhales deeply. You brace yourself for the disparaging rant you know is coming. Nothing good ever comes from a head shake and heavy sigh. But, instead of her usual ‘stay in your place’ harangue, your mother cuts to the chase this time. “Do you realize that might just be your only chance for happiness?” 

Suppressing a dry chuckle, you lower your gaze to the floor. You know your mother is well aware of how her question sounds; you know she doesn’t care. Still, you ask, “Is that really what happiness looks like, mother?”

She falls silent. After a beat, you dare to peek up at her. Those once hard eyes soften as her gaze locks on Mary and Michael, locks on how they gaze upon one another with such adoration. Blinking repeatedly, she turns to you and sighs, “Yes, to some people that,” she pauses to glance at Kyon, “is what happiness looks like.” 

A wicked pang of sad, lonely anger twists in your chest then tumbles to the pit of your stomach. Your gaze falls to the ground and heart shatters with that last shred of hope that your mother perhaps did want the best for you. Up until now, you truly believed that in some twisted way, she was just looking out for you, making sure you have someone by your side long after she’s gone. Her words now and that shameless look that matches that shameless confession only point to the painfully obvious fact you have tried so hard to ignore. Your mother’s need to make you look a certain way and throw you at any breathing man has never been for your well-being, but rather the well-being of her reputation. 

“Go to Mr. Lee, (Y/N),” she orders. “Offer to freshen his drink, wipe down his shirt, and then apologize. Beg for his forgiveness if you have to; just make this right.” 

With a deep breath, you trail your eyes back up and try to collect yourself. Your eyes flicker between the exit and where Kyon stands.Your mother clears her throat, drawing your attention back on her. 

“Have I made myself clear?” 

“Crystal.”

She returns to her friends, that gleeful smile plastered on her face once more. Your eyes fall back on Kyon with every intention of following through your mother’s orders. However, he only greets your gaze with malice. A wave of nausea overwhelms you. 

With a shake of your head, you tear yourself away from his threatening demeanour and turn towards the exit. You just need to get out of his line of sight, out of that pretentious atmosphere. Something within you can’t seem to stop telling you that one more moment near that passive-aggressive punk will only make you feel worse. So, you lengthen your strides out of the ballroom and down the hall to put as much distance between you and them. 

The pressure of their expectations suffocates you like no corset ever has. All you can think is how desperately you need some fresh air. It takes you a moment, but you navigate your way around the manor well enough to find the back entrance. 

Cold air engulfs you the moment you step outside. A relieved giggle slips past your lips and you throw your head back to relish in the cool spring breeze. The sky reflects a swirl of silvery indigo. It lures you into its constellations and wonders with every other glance. Lowering your gaze, you scan the garden before you. A cobblestone path leads all the way down to a hedged maze. You can never resist a good garden. In fact, you had helped design the one back home. You hope that when your husband-to-be comes along, he’d have a garden too and maybe you can design it together.

Realizing you can maybe hold on to a few more moments of peace if they can’t find you, you decide to follow the path and hide away within the walls of the maze. You’re halfway down the cobblestone trail when you sense a strong pull dragging your soul closer to the hedges. Picking up your pace, you follow that tug faster, soon weaving through the maze like you’ve been through it before. It’s not long before you reach the centre. 

It’s a large clearing, decorated with a variety of blooming flowers. In the middle stands a grand marble fountain. Three tiered, the fountain sprouts fresh water through the mouths of singing angels. A little smile plays on your lips as you click-clack your way towards it. The tranquil rush of the stream calms your previously erratic heart. You take a seat on the edge and stare down at the pool. It’s empty of floating flowers or little fish like the one you have at home, but still beautiful all the same. 

“Miss (L/N).”

Your eyes well up the moment his sweet voice greets your ears. A shaky breath escapes you and you turn to find him. Did he not hear your words last night? Does he not care? Or is he here to stay this time?

Sitting atop the hedges of the garden maze and out of the moon’s light, he looks just as heavenly as always. Most details of his beauty are hidden, but you can make out his long hair and the way it’s pulled back into a ponytail, leaving loose, short strands to frame his face. And those soft wings are out, spread wide behind him as he stares back at you. Shirtless, he smirks. 

You can’t help the smile stretching upon your lips at the sight of him. It’s an uncontrollable reflex, as is the wetness of your core when he’s around. He usually doesn’t arrive this early when he does show up. How long has he been there? 

Clearing your throat, however, you subside the urge to smile upon his presence. “Mr. Jeon.” His name leaves your lips in a trembling breath as your heart’s aflush with desire. You have to remind yourself that you’re upset with his disappearances.

A sweet smile takes over his features. “I’ve upset you,” he notes. 

Is this a joke to him? How many nights does he expect you to wait around for a maybe? You both know your time is worth more than that. And though you want to tell him that he’s done more than upset you, that he’s disappointed you, you confess something else instead. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know I miss you too,” he replies. 

You resist the urge to scoff. “Are you working tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I just got off actually.”

Without me? You mentally scold yourself for your dirty thought. You can’t even hold onto your anger for more than thirty seconds without having the urge to spread your legs for him. “Lucky me,” you sarcastically reply. 

“Do you like the dress?”

“I’d like it more with the gift from last night,” you glare at him. “If there was a gift from last night, that is.” 

Hopping off the edge, his wings fan out to guide him down before you with ease. Your face falls as he stands in the moonlight. Thick mud coats his muscular body and those once white wings are stained with dirt and grim. His sharp face is scratched with little scabs as well. He looks like he fell from the sky. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper as you reach out to caress his wounded cheek. 

But Jungkook can’t be any less interested in his current state. His attention does not waver off you. Those kind eyes of his scan your frame, lingering around your breasts. “It looks even better than I imagined.”

You feel as though you have to ask him if this really is a joke to him this time. He leaves you for a week with very little behind and returns only to be caked in mud and peppered with wounds and has the audacity to pretend it’s not an issue. Now, you’re upset. 

You blink back your tears, quietly asking, “What happened?”

Maybe it was the hurt in your tone or the worry flashing in your eyes but his usually cocky demeanor trembles just enough to comfort you. “It’s just been a long night, baby. I missed a couple of shots and it took a little more effort than usual to fix everything.”

Fidgeting fingers trail up the exposed side of his thick thigh under the stained toga-like skirt he wears. He shudders under your touch as your hands make their way up to his buff chest where they stay. You inhale deeply to settle your erratic heart. The earthy grim of the mud invades your senses. He doesn’t even smell like himself anymore. 

Knitting your brows together, you ask, “Are you hurt?”

Jungkook’s entire expression softens. Shaking his head, he goes to cradle your body closer to his but stops before his hands reach your waist. You can feel his desire though, to touch and be touched. It’s raw and real, and purely Jungkook. This shared desire the two of you have roots deep within your souls. It breaks your heart to think that he’s not yours anymore, and maybe you made that decision rashly, in a moment of anger. But, you both know it’s not how you feel right now. 

“I need to know your schedule,” you say in a quiet voice. He tongues his cheek, erupting your heart with a surge of want. You ignore the feeling long enough to continue, “I can’t just sit and wait, Jungkook.”

He stares down at you, eyes unreadable. You can tell that he’s mulling over your words, but have no clue how he feels about them. Finally, he cups your cheeks, staining them with dirt, and says “I need you to trust me when I say that I’m doing my best to get to you as quickly as I can, darling.”

Your heart cannot deny him when his gaze reflects such sincerity and honesty. Every ounce of trust, of belief is in him and only him. And maybe you are being selfish, but to be stranded without an explanation is heartbreaking. You know he knows that, or at least feels it in you when you think of him and pray. 

“Just tell me I’m yours again,” he whispers, “and I’ll prove to you how much I’ve missed you too.”

Is that why he’s here? He’s afraid of losing you? Biting your lip, you can’t help but lean into his touch. It was mean of you to punish him like this and make him think that you were really upset with him when in actuality, all you wanted was a little more attention. You give him an innocent look through your lashes. He does his best not to swoon, but you know him well enough now to know that the little quiver in his lips means he’s on the verge of getting on his knees. 

“No man of mine is this dirty,” you smirk, echoing the words of your first encounter. 

Jungkook smiles and this time you have to keep yourself from swooning at the sight of his dimples. “I thought that’s exactly how you like them,” he purrs as he walks you back towards the fountain. 

Heat rushes to your face. The marble edge of the fountain hits the bend of your knees but you refuse to sit down with Jungkook only inches away. His hands may still be on your face, rubbing that dirt into your cheeks, but his body is still too far away from yours. You move to take a step forward, desperate to have your body against his. However, Jungkook is quicker, most likely having read your mind, and moves back before you can even get half a step in. 

Your eyes harden at the action. Pushing his hands off your face, you quirk a brow. 

“I don’t want to ruin your dress.”

“A dress like this is meant to be ruined.”

He smirks. You can tell by the amusement dancing in his eyes that he’s enjoying the sight of you this needy and possessive. He decides to further test the limits of your composure, asking, “Don’t you have a party to get back to?”

He’s teasing. The mockery riddled in his features is enough of a hint, but the playful tone in his voice is still something you bask in. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you let out a deep sigh and look up to the clouds. “A flight back home might do us both some good,” you suggest instead. “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me at the party anyways.”

“Not even your sister?”

You shake your head. 

“Mother?”

Face folding, you suppress the urge to groan and whisper, “Oh, gods no.” 

Jungkook chuckles as he circles around the fountain. He dips his hand in the clear water, before asking, “What about Lee Kyon?”

Now, what would Jeon Jungkook know of Lee Kyon? A quick scan of his features doesn’t let you in on much besides the fact that he’s trying to draw a reaction out of you. However, what reaction is he hoping for? Is he looking for an explanation? He knows all about your mother’s habits and your relationships, or lack thereof, with mortal men. You never even have to say it; Jungkook knows there’s no one else for you but him. 

“Mr. Lee is fragile,” you sigh. 

His wings twitch. He likes what he hears. You curl in your lips to keep from smiling. Could he, Eros the god of love, lust and desire, really be jealous of an imbecile? Setting your visual tastes aside for a moment, you and Jungkook both know that Kyon, bless him, knows less than the very fountain you’re sitting on… The very fountain Jungkook is climbing into.

“What are you doing?” You ask, shooting to your feet as Jungkook makes himself comfortable. A giggle tumbles out of you, even though you tried to bite it back, at the sight of him washing himself like a bird. 

Jungkook stops for a moment, that playful gaze meeting yours. This one look is enough for you to know he’s heard, and he’s most likely still hearing your thoughts. You wish you could dip in and out of his mind too. It might put an end to all the guessing on your end. 

Continuing to splash his torso clean, he replies, “You’re sending me some mixed messages, baby. I thought you didn’t like me dirty.”

He has a point. Making your way over to him, you sit by his submerged frame on the edge of the fountain. Jungkook rubs his lips as he watches your jeweled fingers trace the curves of your cleavage. Your hand stops in the centre, just above the tied strings of your corset. You begin unlacing it when Jungkook tsks. Snapping your gaze to his, you wait for further instructions. 

“What are you doing?”

“I want to get in with you.”

“So, get in.”

You move to unlace your corset once more, but Jungkook grabs onto your wrist. Catching his darkening gaze, you furrow your brows at his tilting head. He’s gesturing for you to get in, but won’t let you take off your dress. He can’t serious think you’d get in wearing it the water is filthy with his- 

Glancing at the clear water, your thoughts are overtaken by confusion. You expected it to be tinted a dark brown from all the mud but it only reflects the marble bowl of the fountain, Jungkook’s legs, and that growing erection between them. You probably should question him on when he took that skirt off and why the water is so clean even after he went into it with layers of dirt coating his skin, but the heat between your legs is slowly growing more and more insufferable. 

Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook’s to find him already staring at you, a smirk painted on his handsome face. He pushes his tongue against his cheek once more, knowing how much you love that move, then quirks a cocky brow. Kicking off your heels, you lift your dress enough to dip each stocking covered foot into the fountain. You hiss at the sensation of the soggy socks against your feet, but power through knowing how much Jungkook loves the way they look on you. 

Your dress puffs up to the surface and you have to push it down and back to put as little space between you and Jungkook. “Your hair’s filthy,” you pout as you finally straddle his lap. 

Jungkook lets out a little sigh. You first think it’s because his cock stands right in front of your pussy, but soon realize how wrong you are. His dazed gaze wanders over your features, unsure where to stop and what to admire first. Those large hands instinctively find your thick thighs. He rubs and massages them as you untie his hair and wet your hands enough to wash some of the dirt away. You tilt his head back and lick your lips. It’s a habit you have when concentrating. Jungkook knows it well. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he suddenly purrs. His voice is thick, saturated with lust and adoration. “Honestly, you don’t have to do anything, darling, just let me look at you for a little bit.” 

You freeze, hands half tangled in his mud slick hair, and gaze back down at him. Dipping your head down, your lips catch his. You’re obsessed with the lack of hesitation between the two of you. Never has Jungkook thought twice about taking you as his when the two of you are this close. No matter how long he’s gone or how upset you may feel about that, when you find each other again, it’s almost like he never left. Your souls rapture in harmony and bodies tangle indefinitely. Eternity lies in the palms of your hands every second you're together. 

“I’ve got to clean your hair,” you mutter against his lips. He only hums before kissing you again. Inhaling sharply, you let him have another sip of your breath before pulling away completely. And you realize, as you glance at his wings, that they could probably use a good scrub down too before the two of you indulge in the good fun you’ve been dying to have all week. 

Before you can vocalize this, however, Jungkook is already readjusting your shared position. He tucks his wings tight behind him and shifts the two of you around so that the stream of the fountain washes down his back. “Hurry,” he orders. There’s very little room for negotiation in his tone. His appetite for a fun night is growing too and you can’t help but smile at the eagerness you’ve triggered. 

Sticking your tongue out, you hook it under his chin and tilt his head back. Jungkook continues to gaze down at you as he gives into your gesture. “That’s hot,” he mutters. 

This is new. He never talks this much when things start to heat up. Most of the time, you’re tossed looks and expected to decipher his mood, but you’re all too caught up in how gorgeous he is, you can barely understand what he means. Everything is always based on feelings and going with your instincts. But this time, Jungkook’s more vocal. It’s almost as if he’s thinking out loud. 

His wings twitch again. You snap your gaze from his hair to his eyes and find he’s raising a brow. Didn’t you wish you could hear his thoughts too? Could this be his way of granting it to you?

“You know what I like most about you?” He asks as you continue to wash the mud from his hair. Grazing your nails through his scalp, you hum in reply. “You’re incredibly intelligent.” 

Your fingers shudder against his head. The guilt of last night returns. Your sister should be with someone who isn’t afraid of her intelligence either. You should’ve told her not to follow through with this, not to marry Michael.

Jungkook’s hands trail up to your ass, gripping onto the plump flesh. The harsh gesture snaps you back into the moment. You jump a bit and let out a little squeal as your gaze meets his. “I much rather you don’t think of other men when you’re with me,” he groans. 

Fighting off the proud smile tempting your lips, you nod. “Sorry; it won’t happen again.” 

“Better not,” he mutters and that smile finally settles on your lips. “And don’t worry about your sister. She’ll be fine.” 

A part of you wants to question him more about how he knows that, but the death grip he has on your ass and the way he’s looking at you does not leave much room for a sexless conversation. You rather your family stay out of conversations like this with Jungkook. His desire to be the only one in your thoughts makes a bit more sense to you now. 

Smiling, Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose. “You figure things out faster than most people,” he says. 

You kiss the little freckle under his lip to let him know you’re done cleaning his hair. “You spend too much time in my head,” you tease. Instead of in my…  The rest of the sentence twirls in your mind for him to find it. 

As you move to clean his right wing he chuckles and continues, “I’m serious, baby.” He kisses your neck as you stand on your knees and reach for his wing to properly clean it off. “Your mind amazes me. That’s why I spend so much time there.” 

Barriers of the mind fall. They were trembling before but now, with every whispered thought Jungkook voices, you can feel those walls of distance crumble around your inseparable bodies. You’ve always melded perfectly physically and stroked the other’s spirit by caressing your souls, but mental barriers have always halted any real conversation between you and Jungkook. He’s always been able to know your next move, your every thought because of his immortality. And to have the chance to do the same only makes you feel that much closer to him. For this reason, you hope he doesn’t regret opening up to you and giving you a little peek inside his mind. 

Your physical senses shock you back to the moment. His fingers soften their grip on your ass, rubbing it instead and your pussy reactively clenches at that pet name you love so much. Unsteadily inhaling deeply, you move to clean his other wing in silence. You decide you won’t talk this time. Your mind is open to him if he’s looking for your opinion, but tonight you just want to hear his thoughts and be the one tossing unreadable looks. 

Jungkook chuckles against your neck, rolling his shoulders back as you brush your fingers through his wings. His lips trail down to your collarbone. He kisses his way down to your breasts and buries his face between them. Breathing in your scent, he sighs happily and mutters, “This is my favourite thing.”

Your breasts? By the way his hands always settle on your ass and the fact that his first hand-delivered toy was an anal plug, you always just assumed that his favourite feature of yours must be your ass. But you suppose if your breasts-

“Actually, I was talking about the way you smell.”

“It’s called soap,” you tease, earning yourself a light spank. He then bites on your right tit, sucking on the skin just because he can. You giggle and settle yourself back on his lap. Your ass, plush and plump, all but melts over his muscular thighs. 

Jungkook stares at you. His brown eyes are vacant and lost in thought. He quiets under your gaze, only just shifting to pull you closer than you already are. Your pussy frames the length of his cock and you find it increasingly hard to stay still. Trying to read that dazed expression on his face, you wonder what happened with his devotion to thinking out loud. 

Licking his lips, Jungkook finally breaks the silence. “Twenty-three.” He leans towards you turning the two of you back around so his back is against the fountain’s edge again. “I want you in twenty-three different ways, but I don’t think we have time to do all of them.”

You swallow thickly. Grinding your hips into his, you rub your needy pussy against his throbbing erection. Jungkook’s eyes slightly roll back and he has to hold your hips down only to look at you properly again. “Can we make time?” You ask. The desperate cry for more is evident in your voice and you know that, by the quirk of his brow and the shudder of his wings, he’s having trouble saying no. 

“I wish,” he confesses. “My favourite ones take time.” 

His fingers dig into your ass again, hinting at what his favourite positions might be. It’s no surprise that it has to do with your ass, you’re just worried that he’s going to ask for more than you’re ready for. Yes, you may have gotten used to anal plugs over time since he knows how to prep you for them, but his cock is an entirely different game. You are constantly reminded of how those other toys really are just toys because his cock is that uncomparable. 

Jungkook relaxes back against the marble wall and watches you as you salivate over the size of his cock. He doesn’t need to read your mind to know you're terrified of whatever pain may come with it but excited because you’re just that much of a whore for him. 

“You know you don’t have to do it. I have lots of other favourites,” he smirks. 

As your thoughts trail off, he bucks his hips into yours. You breathe moan and clutch onto his shoulders. Every little movement makes you ache for more. A week without a single bit of sexual stimulation, even by yourself, is too long. He never told you that you couldn’t play around alone anymore, but when you have him, why the hell would you play with yourself? You know he’s going to come every night, or at least you hope he is. And the truth is, one he must already know judging by the pleased look in his eyes, even if he had told you he wasn’t coming, you still wouldn’t have touched yourself. Nothing can compare to his touch; you don’t need to try anything else to know this.

A shaky breath escapes Jungkook at your next mental confession. You don't think you were ever really mad at him. You just knew that acting out would get him to come tonight. Jungkook scoffs, looking up at the darkening sky as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

Are you even really sorry? His eyes dart to yours as if wanting to see for himself if your thoughts are true. You don't know if you can answer this question with his eyes on you like that. But, that conclusion seems to be enough of an answer for him. 

He shakes his head and wraps his arms around your waist. Pouting, he asks, “Do you know how worried I was?”

You mirror his expression, drawing a pout in your features as well, and press your chest against his. His breath hitches and body melts into yours, betraying his intentions. Noticing his struggle to stay upset with you, you pepper wet kisses under his chin and along his jawline. 

Jungkook can’t resist you for much longer. He whimpers as his hips grind into yours. Bending at your every touch, he unravels beneath you. A giddy smile breaks your pouty features and it’s only then that he seems to realize how much he’s let himself go in front of you. His grip on your hips hardens. As you kiss up his face, you find his lust-stuck eyes dark with dominance. He hates being vulnerable to your touch this much.

“No, baby,” he rasps. You quirk a brow. “I hate how drunk you get off the power.” 

A proud smirk twitches on the corner of your lips, confirming his words. You’ve barely had taste for the power he’s accusing you of getting drunk off of. However, the fact that you’re able to control him so well with such a small dose fills your heart with pride. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“I am?”

There’s a certain cocky pitch in your tone that rings sharply to his ears. His brows twitch, wings flutter, and gaze wavers. He may have been able to look past your exaggerations of dismissal and the way you tease him, but to speak to him with very little regard for his power unleashes something primal within him. You can always tell you’ve really pissed him off when he pouts, clenches his jaw, and breathes so steadily, you can barely hear him. 

Jungkook watches you carefully. “One week without my dick and suddenly you think you own it?” 

“Don’t I?”

A sharp smack lands on your ass. The slow draft of the water does not slow his hands down. In fact, it only increases the sting and accuracy. You gasp and fall forward against him only to be spanked again. Another moan leaves you, this time with your lips hovering over his. Exchanging breathes, a dangerous thought occurs to you. Your lips are over his. What’s to stop you from spit-

He growls. You tremble against him. The purely thunderous rumble in his chest rattles your soul. “I fucking dare you,” he hisses.

Though you want to heed his warning, you can’t help but notice how he keeps his mouth open despite his disapproval. You gather what you have in your mouth and pause for a moment, knowing that he knows what you’re about to do. His mouth remains open. You drop the wad of spit it without a second thought. 

Jungkook swallows it almost immediately. “You’re going to regret that,” he breathes. 

“I highly doubt that,” you smirk.

The cocky persona you seemed to have picked up from him crumbles when his middle finger pushes between your cheeks and circles your tightest hole. His words about his favourite ways to fuck you return to you in distant echoes. You arch your back and push your ass into his hand. His finger threatens to slip in. 

“You’re barely ready,” he scoffs.

Do you harbour reservations based on fears that he just might be too big to fit in your ass? Of course you do; he’s huge. A fact of which he can’t help but always smirk at when you point it out. But, you’re hungry for him and you know that he would never do anything to hurt you. Letting out a shaky breath, you affirm, “I can take it.”

“You aren’t wet enough.”

“Then, change that.”

The continuous authority that drips in your tone has tested his patience for the last time. Reaching a hand out of the fountain, Jungkook grabs for something on the ground. You try to lean over him and sneak a peek at what he’s looking for, but the friction of your clit against his length has you shuddering back in place. 

A little smile breaks Jungkook’s previously callous expression. He pecks your neck and laughs quietly against your skin as he mutters, “You’re adorable.” 

Heat rushes down to your core instead of your face at the little praise. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lips when you catch a glimpse of something gold in your peripherals. Glancing up, you find him clutching onto his bow. Before you have the chance to ask what he’s planning, Jungkook only just drops the tip of his bow in to break the surface of the water. A misty rose gold tints the clarity. Little flicks of sparkling gold twinkle back at you as you watch the fountain filter the essence all around you. 

You cautiously meet gaze. He always confirms new things with you before acting on anything, no matter how mad or horny he is. His rash decision to spike the fountain with an unknown substance chills your blood for a second. You start to shift back from him a bit when he breaks the silence. 

“It’s just a lubricant,” he quickly explains. A relieved breath, you didn’t realize you were holding, leaves you. Shifting back against him, you nudge your nose against his. “Sex is a bit different underwater, baby, and I don’t have time to get you as ready as you need to be.” 

A gentle nibble on his lip is all it takes for the rush of the fountain to be the only sound in the silence that settles upon you. His hands guide your hips against his, the fiction much smoother now with that hint of lubrication swirling around. You run a hand through his hand and tug his head back to be greeted with the sweet rumble of his laughter. You can’t help but giggle with him as you place soft kisses along the side of his neck. 

Jungkook quietly moans in little whines and breathless gasps. Every shudder of his wings and furrow of his brows makes you want to rip your dress off and be just as naked and against him. But, then again, there’s something powerful to the taste of being fully clothed and still destroying a man’s composure. You barely have to do anything and Jungkook bends to your every will. You can now understand why he believes you’re so drunk on power, but the truth is you always had this power. He knows this, most likely wanting you to realize it too if he’s the one that suggested you stay clothed. The only difference now is that he’s openly displaying the ways you unravel him rather than keeping it to himself. 

“Do you see what I mean now?” He asks in a breathless whisper. You trail your kiss up to his cheek and moan against it as he continues, “You’re so smart and beautiful and precious.” 

Jungkook pauses, stilling your hips and pulling his face away from yours to look into your eyes. He parts his lips to speak but his words keep falling short somehow. 

His words so far have already ignited an untamable fire not only between your legs, but within your bones as well. He is drenched in every part of you. Shifting to a softer touch, you untangle your fingers from his damp hair and cup his cheeks the same way he had done to you not too long ago. “Go on,” you tease, tossing him a playful look. 

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk. His eyes, though hinted with amusement, continue to be lost in some sort of trance. He knows you’re curious, but keeps this little bit of thought to himself. Lifting your hips, he hovers your entrance over his erection and finally smirks. 

“Beg a little,” he orders. Though his voice barely carries to the other side of the fountain, the authority in his tone is still as clear and hard as it always is.

Your power trip must have really messed with him if he’s having you beg without giving you a good reason to. An annoyed sigh fans against your collarbone as your body continues to hover over his. “Don’t play,” he rasps, “You know that’s not it. I can hear the truth before the lie, darling.”

That’s an unfair advantage but one you don’t mind too much if it means he talks to you like this all the time. He’s right too. You know that’s not what’s got him eager to hear you beg. It’s the way you beg that’s got him eager to fuck you. Clenching around emptiness, needy to be filled and ruined, you whine a tiny “please,” then a string of profanities as his tip strokes its way to your entrance from your clit. 

“Again.”

Back arched, breasts against his bare chest, and hands clutched onto his biceps, you place your lips on the shell of his ear and blow a gentle breeze against it. “Please,” you mewl. 

Jungkook’s hands tremble and he all but drops you on his cock. Pussy in an instant stretch, with very little room to adjust, you cry out in his ear. Though your voice may be broken and pitchy, Jungkook doesn’t flinch. When it comes to you, the usual results never qualify. You are one of a kind, as unique as him. 

His muscles flex under your palms. Hands finding their place on your ass again, Jungkook guides your thrusts. He can practically feel your weakening body with every bounce and grind against him. You know he can. He shows it in every tightening grip on your ass and grunt in his moans. 

The knot in your stomach is already twisting, conspiring against your better judgement on how long you think you can last. You’ve never been able to outlast him, cumming twice before he finally reaches his first orgasm of the night. He’s just so big and hits those right places way before the rest of him can catch up. How he manages to brush up against your softest spots within the first three thrusts will always be beyond your comprehension. He’s just that good. 

The choked moan that leaves him resembles a chuckle. A frustrated whine escapes you. Is he still listening to your thoughts? It’s not like you’re thinking anything he already hasn’t heard you say, or rather scream, but it still somewhat embrassasses you to know that he will always hear how whipped you are for him. 

“Tell me,” you plead with your lips pressed just under his ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

The sparkling water around you begins to splash out of the fountain bowl as Jungkook speeds up the pace of your bounces. Deciding your ass seems to be too much of a distraction to him, you pause mid-thrust and move his hands up to your hips. A shuddering gasp escapes him as you carry on with the bounces at his same pace. Your ass claps in and out of the water, thrashing water all around the ground. 

Jungkook digs his short nails into the flesh of your hips, growling every time you whine at his tightening grip. Forehead against his, you catch his gaze and offer an innocent one. “I’m-” he cuts himself off, realizing how breathless and dazed he sounds. You nuzzle your face into his as a silent attempt to encourage him to continue. “Kiss me,” he begs. 

If you weren’t stuffed full of his cock and extremely enchanted by the way he pretends to sound composed, you would’ve refused to kiss him and insisted that he finish that sentence. And that knot in the pit of your gut only tightens with the grip of your pussy. Pressing your lips against his, you slip your tongue in and let him swallow your moans. 

The moment his tongue tackles yours, your legs quake. Thrusts hesitating, your body begins to spasm against his. Your hands grapple at his shoulder just to ensure you stay a float as your threatening orgasm continues to build. 

“Jungk-” You break the kiss to tell him, to ask as he has taught you over and over again. 

But Jungkook only latches his lips onto yours once more. You gulp down a moan or two of his before he hisses against your lips, “Just fucking cum. Now, kiss me.”

You may have been drunk off power not too long ago, but as you kiss him again, you realize that he is drunk off you. And that’s all it takes for your ograsm to finally rush over you. Jungkook lifts his hips up to meet your stuttering ones. Your lips fall off his. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you cry out his name and cream all over his cock. 

“I’m thinking you’re such a good girl for cumming like this,” he suddenly whispers as you ride out your orgasm. Even with your ears ringing and mind shuddering from the second wave of cum gushing all over his hard, huge cock, you can still hear every dirty praise clearly. “My whore got herself off so well.”

The whine that escapes you from his words alone is borderline pornographic. Jungkook even feels it, arching his back so his chest collides with yours as well. “You’re so sexy,” he whimpers as you babble fountain water by his shoulder from exhaustion. 

Wet, wet, wet; everything is wet. You’re both drenched in lube tinted waters, cum, and your desires. You can’t revel in it though, as the skirts of your dress float the surface and corset clings to your chest all too tightly. You can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone tell him that you need a quick break. 

“No,” he groans, settling you on his thighs. Circling his hips into yours, Jungkook grips onto the nape of your neck to peel you off him. 

Your heart stumbles as your mind races to figure out what you’ve done that was so wrong, he’s wanting to stop the night here. “I’m sorr-”

“You don’t need a break,” he sighs between moans. He sits himself up, his wings extending only to drape over the lip of the fountain’s bowl. All movements underwater cease as he digs his fingers into the bust of your corset. In one swift motion, Jungkook tears the first few laces apart, instantly sending a full batch of oxygen to your lungs. 

Gasping, you gaze down at your torn dress before glaring at him. Maybe with just a wet dress, you could have explained your way out of whatever mess this is going to get you in when you attempt to return to the party. However, a torn dress will not be that easy to explain. You want to glare at him and tell him off but he shoves his face between your now exposed breasts and moans before you’re able to. 

He moves your hands up his shoulders so your arms drape over them, then settles them on his favourite place; your ass. Two of his fingers push between your cheeks and stroke your hole. His touch there is much smoother than before and you suspect that it must be the bow-tipped lube. 

You moan quietly, resting your chin atop his damp head as he kisses and bites at your breasts. Your pussy still hasn’t recovered from your orgasm seconds ago. In fact, truth be told, your entire body is having trouble recuperating after cumming that hard in a week. But you want more of him and he still hasn’t filled you of his godly load yet. And with his fingers circling around your asshole, you can’t deny him the second ride he’s patiently waiting for. 

A slow grind of hips into hips is a good start, you tell yourself. You’ve never really had to deal with this before, since Jungkook would usually just keep pounding into you despite the fact that he knows your limbs are exhausted from one orgasm already. Clenching your jaw, you start to bounce again, ass clapping against his thighs in suppressed thumps underwater. The overstimulated pleasure brings tears to your eyes. You cry out his name and hold onto his wings. 

He groans against your right breast from the contact. You’re about to apologize, knowing his wings are sensitive, when he shoves his fingers into your tightest hole. You freeze and throw your head back from how easily he slipped in and how fucking good it feels. Jungkook scissors his fingers within you, peeking a glance up from between your breasts. 

“Are you okay, baby?” he slurs. He licks up the valley of your breasts, holding your gaze shamelessly. 

“Mhm,” you mewl. 

Resuming your thrusts, you feel your tears run down your face freely. You don’t even have it in you to wipe them away. Your hands, instead, centre around his back. You scratch at it for a bit until you feel him add a finger. Moans tumble into his wet hair as your fingers trail up the length of his spine. 

Jungkook stiffens. A choked groan tears from his throat and he hides his face further into your breasts. They bounce around his cheeks with each hop on his cock. Too consumed by your own overstimulated pleasure to dwell much thought on his movements, or lack thereof, you mindlessly repeat the action. You stroke his spine once more and then you hear it. 

He sobs a moan.

You still your hips, looking down at him. As you run a hand through his hair, you’re about to ask if he’s okay when the whooshing flutter of wings obscures your vision. One second, you’re straddling his lap with his fingers in your ass. The next, you’re the one submerged in the water with him hovering over you. Wings fully extended, face stained with tears, Jungkook makes sure your arms are resting over his shoulders like before then takes up a deadly speed of thrusts into you. 

His speed defies the laws of physics, hips moving much faster than they should underwater. Half the fountain is on the ground from the force of his movement. All you can do is sob with him as your body becomes his only source of pleasure. 

What’s gotten into him? He doesn’t even have an interest in your ass anymore, hands locked in a death-like grip on your hips. In a moment of pure animalistic pleasure, you just wish you knew what’s running through his head. 

“You,” he growls in a pout. “You’re all I think about, you fucking whore. You’re all I can ever think about.” He swallows thickly before continuing, “You can’t go one second without thinking of me and now all I can hear is your voice. All the time; it’s you, you, you.”

You don’t know if you should apologize or cum from the simple confession alone. His voice, his words, his entire fucking attitude has you aching to cum all over again. 

Jungkook stumbles over his chuckles. “You just love seeing me like this, huh? You love seeing me worship you, baby?” 

Worship. Does he want you to cum that badly that he’s willing to lie? You both know he doesn’t worshi-

A sharp thrust derails your thoughts. Your eyes roll back as you moan out his name. 

“You’re my goddess,” he confesses. “You’re my only goddess.”

He repeats the phrase over and over again until that’s all that rings in your ear, in your heart, in your soul. His release paints your tightening walls. The knots within your gut have unraveled long ago and it’s only when your blurred vision somewhat clears and convulsing body trickles into tremors do you realize that you’ve both cum together to the words he’s still repeating. 

Voice a tiny, gruff whisper, Jungkook whispers, “My goddess.”

He’s serious. He must be. He truly worships you. The tears in his eyes, the break in his voice, the truth is clear and just as starkly bare as he is between your legs. His eyes suddenly flash with worry, almost as if he’s recognized what he’s said. He meant what he said, you realize, but he never meant to say it. 

Jungkook gingerly pulls out of you as you try to seat yourself up. You pull your legs into your chest and watch him take a seat beside you. He leans his head back against the rim of the fountain and gazes up at the sky. You follow his gaze, noticing it’s gotten much darker out, the silver stream of stars piercing an indigo backdrop no more. A midnight black cloaks the world above you, a crescent moon lighting up your night and an array of stars twinkling down at you. Though your mind is still foggy from your recent orgasms, body still shuddering, you can’t help but think about his words. What makes him think you belong up there, amongst true gods and goddesses? 

His wings twitch as they tuck themselves behind him. You know that combination well. He’s hiding something. Usually, you don’t ask, knowing he will only deflect the topic and shower you with attention and praises instead. But, his spoken thoughts are now looping around your mind, begging to be answered. 

“Jungkook,” you mutter, shifting closer to him. Face still stained with tears, he forces himself to look at you. The questions are on the tip of your tongue; what, why, when? However, as you part your lips all you can bring yourself to say is, “I didn’t hear anything.”

You’re my goddess. 

The words return with ten times the force they previously held. It’s almost like denying their existence is just as blasphemous as saying them. You swallow thickly and try to extract the words from your mind, but it's too late. They are as entrenched in your bones as your affection for him is. There is no undoing what has been done. 

You bring a hand up to his face and wipe away the stray tears. He melts into you almost immediately. Maybe it’s best if you return to the party now. You can make up some excuse as to why you’re drenched and torn on your way there. Jungkook’s state is all but worrying and you feel as though you shouldn’t be witnessing this. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he finally says. His voice has regained composure and tone controlled. No more does he choke on his words or laughter. The authority he indirectly bestowed upon you has been returned to him. 

You should tell him you’re done, that he shouldn’t say things he doesn’t mean to. You should tell him that he shouldn’t play with your feelings or your heart like this. But, again, the words wither away the moment you part your lips to voice them. And, instead, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Jungkook smirks. His hands snake around your hips and lift you up onto his lap. Back to his chest, you make yourself comfortable, leaning into him. He pushes the excess fabric of your dress aside just to get you as close as possible. Then, you feel it against your ass, pushing its way between your cheeks. His erection is just as hard as when you started. It’s no wonder why he’s not done with you yet. You suppose he didn’t just confess something he can’t take back only to still leave with a full hard-on. 

“I thought you didn’t hear anything,” he whispers in your ear as his hands cup the underside of your thighs. 

You nervously look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t.”

He chews on your earlobe, warm tongue caressing your jaw. “I should stop thinking about it,” he whimpers against your skin. “I should stop thinking about you.”

I’m not a goddess, you want to tell him. But, by the way he sucks in a sharp breath, you can tell he’s heard and isn’t impressed. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe to scold you for degrading yourself, or to correct you. The words never arrive. 

Jungkook shakily exhales. No more trips into his thoughts it would seem. He remains silent as he spreads your legs and swiftly lifts you up. You expect another harsh round into your pussy but his tip shoves its way through your asshole instead. Throwing your head back, you try to suppress your scream by holding your breath. 

It doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does during the first initial thrust of a toy. Whatever he tinted the water with must be the result of a smooth entrance, and a deliciously blissful stretch. You let out a breath you held, along with a loud, high-pitched squeal. Jungkook folds you up well, holding the bend of each knee into your chest as he continues to slowly lower you onto him. 

Once you finally take him all in, you settle your entire body back into him. Shuddering breaths, drifting eyes, you hold him deep within you and try not to completely lose yourself in a fit of moans and pleads. You don’t even know what you’d be begging for, just that a string of “pleases” will leave you. 

Are you getting bigger, you mentally ask. 

He chuckles and shakes his head as his nose nuzzles into your cheeks. He can’t get enough. Inhaling you deeply, you realize that he can’t get enough of you. He even said so in so many words. And you don’t have much of a problem with that considering you can’t ever get enough of him either. You’ve consumed all of his thoughts it would seem and he’s even lost himself to you so much so that he’s declared you his one and only god-

“Fuck!” 

The stream of the fountain rushes down on your clit. He holds you straight beneath it as his hips move up and down against your ass. You’re at his total mercy, every thought of ever being in control a complete joke. You rest your head against his shoulders, trembling hands placed over his as a desperate attempt to control yourself.

Your first water wave induced orgasm hits you within seconds. You don’t know for sure, but you’re all but certain that you’re cumming. Your eyes have been screwed shut for a while, and body shaking since this endeavor in the fountain began. Only when you try to close your legs do you confirm that you indeed came.

Jungkook keeps them open though. He ignores your pathetic scratches on his knuckles as you try to explain to him that it’s all just too fucking much for you to take. “Just let me cum,” he tries to soothe between little hushes and murmurs about how good you’re taking his cock. 

But then your second orgasm from the fountain hits and you can’t stop squirming in his hold. He keeps you folded and under the water’s subjection nonetheless, somehow even cooling the temperature down. As you shiver under the cold rush, Jungkook positions you higher against him so that the water pours into you instead. You realize, pussy clean of his cum now, that you’re getting fucked by a fountain; a fountain that he controls. And you fucking love it. 

Then, there’s the fullness of your ass. Every inch of you is his. If you’re his goddess, he must know that he’s your god. Your one and only. 

“Careful,” he warns against your thoughts. 

You have an assful of his cock in you, getting off more times than you can both count in a fountain that does not belong to either of you; when have the two of you ever been careful? In fact, your recklessness is what brought you together. Had he not seen you on your balcony every night, he might not be here at all. Carelessness runs in your veins, laced in your tone as you cry out, “You’re my god!”

The clouds rumble above you. The heavens can warn all they want. Interrupting sexual endeavors would do them more harm than it would do you. 

“If you want to cum, you’ll behave,” Jungkook hisses. His thrusts suddenly snap into something primal. 

Your body bounces every time, water rushing down your clit once more. This time you feel your orgasm build, and fast. Toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you hold onto every twisting, clenching knot at the pit of your stomach. 

“Ask!”

“Please?”

A particular ram into your ass lets you know that half-hearted plea won’t get you very far. He doesn’t deign to repeat himself. Instead, he lets his harsh movements and bone-rattling growls speak for him. 

“Please let me cum, Jungkook, please.”

“Again.”

“Please, please, please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say it. But you feel it. You feel the approval in the form of a gentle kiss against your ear. Hips a craze, rolling against the wave, you clench your jaw and try to channel all your pleasure in a high-pitched moan rather than the cry your lungs are desperate to let out. Your cum gushes then, juices squirt seconds later. Entire body on fire, under the scrutiny of the stream as you try and fail to recollect yourself. You’re shattered, ruined, obliterated by his cock and this fountain of fantasies. 

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “That’s my good girl.”

His. His. Gods, the things you would do to be his always, not just under the cover of the night. Jungkook releases your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he grounds your ass over his hips. Load after load shoots within you, making your giggle and shake with ecstasy at the filling sensation of being stuffed so well. 

“Ah-yah, baby,” he groans in a scowl against your jawline. “You’ve got the tightest little hole for me, hmm? If you weren’t so exhausted, I’d have us do this all over again.”

Exhaustion. Yes, that’s what you’re feeling. With your mind foggy and broken from the countless orgasms he’s sent through you, you can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone think to go for another round. Your body’s only excuse for staying afloat is the winged god behind you. He clutches onto you as if his only reason for surviving is you. And judging by his previous confession, that very well might be the case. 

Jungkook rests back against the fountain’s edge once he’s done. Gasping for air, he continues to hold onto you, kissing your shoulder mindlessly. “I never really know how much I miss you until I have you,” he whispers. His teeth graze your supple skin. 

Body limp, you can’t find it in you to reply. All you can think is after he pulls out, he’s going to fly back to Gods know where and leave you to hobble back to the party alone. After all, isn’t that how every night ends? You two share a passionate few moments, both have out of body experiences when orgasming, then you fall asleep and he sneaks away. What’s to say this night won’t be any different?

“I thought I told you to trust me?”

“I do.”

He scoffs. You don’t blame him. Your words are hardly convincing. It has nothing to do with the fact that you just came five or six different times. It’s the lack of commitment in your tone that tips him off. You hear it too. You really do trust him. He’s just let you down too many times to count. 

“What more do I need to do? I’m with you every chance I get.” 

Exhaustion. It’s not a physical one, not the one you’re still recovering from. It’s one of the mind. He’s exhausted with this back and forth. You are too. This isn’t exactly what you thought your first relationship would look like. 

He pauses, body freezing beneath you. 

Oh, right. He’s in your mind. He heard that. Is that not what this is, though? Isn’t this a relationship?

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it,” You repeat, looking at him over your shoulder. 

Jungkook starts to soften in you. You’ve really set him off now. He lifts you up and off his cock, sitting you on his thigh and ignoring the way you hiss and whine at the discomfort. You turn to glare at him over your shoulder only to find him already glaring at you. 

“Do you want me to come back?”

Is he threatening you? “Do I have to remind you who came here begging-”

“You lied!” He cuts you off with a shout. 

“You knew that, though. You knew I was lying,” you point out, a pout starting to overtake your features. “You came because you missed me.”

“That’s never been a secret.”

“Say it then, Jungkook. Say this is a relationship.”

He falls silent. His once annoyed eyes can’t even meet yours. 

“I know you’re jealous of Lee Ky-”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffs. Shaking his head, he forces himself to meet your gaze. 

Sad tears vary drastically from blissful ones. Tears of bliss soothe the pleasure and make it bearable. Tears of sadness sting your eyes, pierce your heart and shed any part of you that can make such a situation bearable. Sad tears only remind you of your pain. 

Your eyes sting with despair as he regards you with such frustration. Emptying your mind, discarding all thoughts, you ask, “Are you coming tomorrow?”

Jungkook sighs, but not a beat of hesitance affects his answer. “Of course.”

You raise a brow. See?

“Fine. This is a relationship,” he mutters. “What does that change?”

Nothing. It hasn’t changed a thing. You don’t even feel any different, any better. Maybe it’s because you forced it out of him? You don’t know. The tears only fall faster though, and you can’t bear to look at him. Your heart’s conflicted, shattered and replaced all at once because, though he is the cause of your tears, his presence is also the only thing soothing them. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your temple over his. 

You can at least relish in his company for a few moments longer. And his scent, that intoxicating waft of creamy coconut and sweet peony orchards returns now that all that mud and grime has been washed off. The scent is comforting enough for you to relax in his arms and forget your pain for a second. 

“That’s not what I smell like,” he whispers. You tilt your head away to get a better look at him. A little smirk tugs on the corner of his lip as he says, “It’s what you smell like.”

Impossible. He’s always smelled like at the end of every night. You’d cuddle into his chest and inhale a breathful of the tropical scent. How could that be what you smell like if he reeks of it? The knowing look in his eyes is enough of a hint for you to realize you know the answer. He’s dripping with your essence every night because he spent the night in you. You wonder if you smell like him too. 

He sighs, circling his arms lazily around your waist. He deeply inhales your skin, smiling against it, but doesn’t answer your mentally posed question. Damp hair clinging to the sides of your faces, you settle in the other’s company. One of his hands rises from the water and wipes away your tears. As you sniffle, he whispers, “I promise I’m-”

“Doing the best you can,” you croak, finishing his sentence with him. 

Yes, yes. You’ve heard it all before. You don’t think he’s lying, your Eros is no liar. You do believe that he is, in fact, doing the best he can. But if his best is only a few hours every night, you’re not sure you can accept that. And, yet, you also can’t find it in you to truly, with all your heart, reject it as well. 

He needs to prove his devotion to you in another way. A risky thought then tiptoes into your mind. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you take a deep breath and ask, “Could you do me a tiny favour?”

Jungkook’s hesitant to meet your gaze. He glances at you through his peripherals, otherwise keeping his gaze locked on your breasts. Whether he’s trying to distract himself or not, you still push them out a bit in hopes that they will grant you the “yes” you’re hoping to hear.

He nods. 

With a little kiss upon his cheek, you stroke his shoulder with the soft tips of your fingers and ask, “Would you please escort me to my sister’s wedding?”

He turns his head away from you. Staring across at the other side of the garden, Jungkook withdraws from you. His hands fall off your frame as he heavily sighs. You press yourself against him, trying to regain his attention but he only shakes his head. 

“Acting cute won’t make this any easier,” he grumbles. 

You huff and slouch against him. “How about just the rehearsal dinner?” You try to negotiate. When he rolls his eyes, you quickly add, “I’ll be stuck with Kyon and honestly I don’t think I handle another minute of his incorrect reilieration about history.” 

Jungkook snaps his head towards you at the mention of another man. You cock a brow to which he only scoffs at. “You’re being obnoxious,” he seethes. “And unbelievably selfish.”

“So?” you question before you can stop yourself. His words sting, slicing through your confidence all too easily. There isn’t much room for thinking and even if there was, he would be listening to them anyways. So, you might as well say what you want out loud. “Was it not selfish of you to make me wait-”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m not going to repeat myself, (Y/N). You can’t keep telling me that you trust me only to keep bringing this up. I was busy. You had to wait. It didn’t kill you.” 

Your tears have returned. He rolls his eyes at the sight. Whatever remnants of your heart you thought you had has been obliviated. “You make me feel so loved,” you whisper as your hands retract from his body. 

Jungkook’s expression disarms all hostility. His eyes reflect regret but you’ve heard, seen all you need to. 

“But why do you only make me feel this way when we’re naked?”

“You’re not naked,” he’s quick to reply. 

It’s your turn to scoff. How can a god be this dense? “Aren’t I, though? Tell me, Jeon Jungkook, whose thoughts are open for the other to hear? Who is the one waiting, praying for the other’s attention? Who has been bare since first glance on the stupid balcony you left last night?”

Before he couldn’t meet your eye out of disinterest, but now he avoids your gaze out of guilt. Yes, you’ve been obnoxious, selfish, maybe even a little entitled. However, you’ve had a god to yourself for months. You’ve had endless moments of ecstasy that only end in soft cuddles and whispered sweet nothings into the night. Is wanting that attention when the sun hasn’t set yet too much to ask? 

Jungkook parts his lips to reply when his eyes suddenly shoot up. He sits up, almost knocking you off his lap and snaps his head towards the very pathway you came from. 

“(Y/N)!” 

You gasp upon hearing your mother’s voice. The clicks of her heels draw further towards you and before you can look at Jungkook and ask what you should do, what you should say, you’re thrown into the fountain. 

Ice cold waves engulf you as you inhale a good chunk of the fountain. Your lungs burn from the accidental intake of water. You only just get your hands under you and sit yourself up and out of the water as quickly as you can. Familiar shouts ring in the distance. Coughing up the fountain, you push your hair back and look around the garden. 

Your mother is staring at you in utter shock, screaming at you to come out but refusing to help you herself. As you try to lift yourself up, you find the water has returned to its usual clarity and that Jungkook is nowhere to be found. He seriously left you to almost drown in the fountain by yourself? He’d be lucky to get more than a kiss from your tomorrow night. You can’t believe he has the audacity to yell at you then let you there like that. In a fit of anger, you send a lashing string after lashing string of profanities to him in the form of a prayer. 

“Miss (L/N)!”

Your blood chills. Hands on the lip of the fountain, you turn towards his voice. Fully dressed in a dark blue suit, his wings nowhere to be found, and dry hair pulled back a neat ponytail, Jungkook rushes over to you. His strong hands settle on your waist before he effortlessly scoops you out.

All you can do is stare. Mouth agape, eyes vacant, you try to figure out why the hell he made himself all presentable and left you looking like a mess. You want to whisper your profanities and swear that he will never touch your ass for leaving you in such a mess, but all you can find yourself saying is, “Mr. Jeon.”

His eyes shoot to the sky as your mother rushes towards you. Nothing is making sense and you only wish you can read his mind to know what to do next. 

“Goodness, (Y/N),” your mother hisses as she rushes towards you. “Cover yourself!”

Looking down at your bust, you gasp. Oh, right, he tore it. Crossing your arms over your chest, you look up at him and glare. But Jungkook only takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. It’s only when you feel your mother’s arms around you do you realize that you’re shivering. 

“What have you done to yourself now?” she whispers in your ear. 

Her eyes then settle on Jungkook. That look graces her face. That look of assessment. She’s scanning the unknown god up and down, looking for signs of wealth, status, and reliability. It doesn’t take her long to innocently smile and fall victim to his beauty, “Thank you kindly, Mr. Jeon.”

He bows his head then turns to you and says, “I told you not to sit on the edge.” Jungkook fakes a polished chuckle. He shakes his head at you when your eyes narrow at him. “I told her, Mrs. (L/N), I told her the marble is slippery. But, Miss (L/N) just had to get a better look at those flowers.”

You glance back at the fountain with your mother, finding an array of tiger lilies floating in the bowl. All this trouble to explain why you’re wet? You look back at him cautiously and wonder what the end of this conversation is meant to look like. 

“Yes, she loves flowers,” your mother sighs. She then sets her sights on Jungkook once more and asks, “Jeon… I’m not sure I know of the Jeons. Are you from out of town?”

Jungkook charms your mother instantly with that kind, toothy smile of his. He nods and compliments her quick wits, to which she laughs, then explains, “I’m visiting for the wedding.”

The wedding? Does that mean?

“Miss (L/N) invited me. I’m rather glad to have run into you, Mrs. (L/N) as I was hoping to ask permission to escort your daughter to the wedding.”

One of your hands, previously covering your right breast, shoots up to cover your mouth out of utter shock. Did he orchestrate all this just to agree to your favour? You hope you haven’t guilted him into it. You’ve done that to get him here and admit to your relationship; you already regret doing that. You just hope he’s acting on his own accord right now. 

Jungkook shoots you a wink as your mother fixes the jacket so that your uncovered breast is concealed once more. Sighing of relief, you offer him a grateful smile. 

“Are you sure?” Your mother suddenly asks, looking back to Jungkook. “(Y/N) is the one you want to escort?”

He glances at you and smiles. “Miss (L/N) the one and only thing I’m always sure about.”

Your mother raises a brow at you. She smells something fishy, knows something is off about this entire encounter. You watch her carefully as she looks between you and Jungkook. And when you expect her to refuse, to lecture you in front of him, your mother adopts an opposite approach. She smiles upon the two of you and shifts you closer to Jungkook. 

“I would be delighted to have you escort my daughter, Mr. Jeon,” she beams. “Do you mind walking (Y/N) to the carriages? I cannot let her go back and drip all over the Barbury’s rugs.” 

Jungkook offers you his elbow, returning your mother’s smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 

You stumble towards Jungkook, your mother practically pushing you into him. With a shaky hand, you take his arm and let him guide you out of the maze. After a turn or two within the tall hedges, you part your lips to ask him what he thinks he’s doing. 

However, Jungkook fills the silence before you can. “I’ll buy you an entire bouquet of lilies, darling. Just promise me to never fall into a fountain again,” he laughs, exaggerating the volume of his voice. 

This time, you pick up on his hints and realize that your mother must still be close by if he’s still putting up such an act. “I promise it won’t happen again, Mr. Jeon,” you innocently reply. 

A smirk, you know is real, graces his features. He walks you around the manor and to the front of the house before breaking out of this noble character of his. “I think she bought it. Your mother is a very suspicious woman.”

You scoff. “That’s just one of many titles she holds,” you mumble under your breath. As you walk towards your family’s carriage, you can’t help but ask, “Why did you do that?”

Jungkook stops you before the door and takes both your hands in his. Those amused eyes linger around your exposed breasts. He chuckles a bit at the way you arch your back to keep them there, making you giggle along with him. 

“Are you happy?”

You pause. Is that why he did this? To make you happy?

“Are you?”

He gives you a pointed look. “Answer the question, (Y/N).”

“Are you just doing this to make me happy, Jungkook?” You ask instead. “Because I will go back to her and tell her that we were both in that fountain and-”

“So what if I am?” He cuts you off. “I want you to be happy, (Y/N). Why is that so wrong?”

It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with him wanting you to be happy. But you want him to be happy with his decision. You’ve forced him into admitting things and meeting you. You don’t want to force him into this too. You want him to want to take you, to want to be with you. That is what true happiness is to you. It’s Jungkook unconditionally wanting you the way you unconditionally want him. 

Jungkook cups your face. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I’m sorry I make you think I don’t want you just as much as you want me.” His nose brushes against yours, hitching your breath as he presses himself against you and continues in a breathy whisper, “Watching you cry breaks me in ways I can’t describe. And being the reason for your tears just destroys me, (Y/N). I’ll do anything to see you smile again.” 

Then, he presses his lips upon yours, reaching for the carriage door behind you. When he pulls away, he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, ushering you into your seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, baby,” he smiles. 

You’ve misjudged him for the third time tonight. Thinking he doesn’t care for you, thinking he left you, and thinking he doesn’t want you. All you can do now is pray that he forgives you for all the curses you’ve hurled his way. 

He chuckles and places kisses on both your hands. “It was very amusing actually.” 

You nod. “I’m sure.” But, you’re still sorry. 

With one last round of kisses over your knuckles, Jungkook promises, “I won’t be late.”

“I’ll be waiting regardless,” you immediately reply. 

The next three words are on the tip of your tongue. He can almost hear them, judging by the twitch of his brows. You don’t have a chance to say them though as he clears his throat and shuts the door. You watch him from the window, shakily exhaling. 

Jungkook calls the coachmen. The carriage jerks forward. The lasting image of his smirk, those sweet eyes and that muscular frame is all you try to see. However, in seconds, he’s pulled from view. The only memory you have of him remains with that sacrilegious confession in a fountain of fantasies. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.