Summary: Breaking up with him during his military service was, initially, a good idea...until you found out that someone like him just wouldn't let go. (One shot)
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, , If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: An effect of my brainrot (also have u see taehyung??? That in itself is an explanation enough) ✨
While the whole country and perhaps, even the whole world, waited in anticipation for June 10, 2025, you gnawed your lips in worry.
While the entire country screamed purple with his face splattered everywhere you looked, your heart was beating with anxiety for his return.
While people have been swarming in the country for his comeback, you wanted nothing but to leave.
If you could, you would have escaped the country by now. In fact, it was not from the lack of trying. You had planned months ahead; your luggage and plane tickets were all ready to go. Your leave was already planned in your work. Your itinerary for the whole month away from South Korea was planned, budget executed down to the single won. You were ready.
You knew you were ready.
However, what you failed to account was him.
You should have known, though, that you couldn’t outplan a manipulator such as Kim Taehyung.
Everything that could go wrong that day did go wrong.
First, your airline emailed you with an apology—your flight had been rescheduled to next week due to a sudden technical issue. You clenched your jaw, told yourself it was fine. You’d just leave the city instead. Maybe escape to the countryside.
So you booked a train ticket.
Your card got declined.
You blinked at the error message in disbelief. Moments later, your bank sent you a polite notification informing you that due to a “suspicious transaction,” your card had been frozen pending a thorough investigation.
Fine. You’d drive, then.
Except, of course, your car wouldn't start.
You stared at the motionless vehicle in your driveway, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.
Perfect.
Kim Taehyung: 1.
You: 0.
And he hadn’t even arrived yet.
You didn’t have access to your money. You couldn’t use your car. You couldn’t even go to the place you already paid for. You were sadly, for all intents purposes, helpless and stuck.
The freedom you felt since he enlisted was slipping through your fingers by second, the weakened hold he had on you that you fought so desperately to loosen was starting to tighten again. You could feel it in your chest, your throat closing up like it always did when you sensed him near.
He hadn’t done anything directly yet…and the last time you spoke to him was when you went to visit him in his camp to end things. It had taken everything in you to face him, to stand in front of that beautiful, dangerous man and tell him you were walking away. It had taken too much of you to look into his dark and beautiful eyes to tell him that you and him were over.
But even now, you wondered—was it really courage? Or just convenience?
Because the truth was, you waited. You waited until he was safely behind gates and schedules, too far away to reach you, too confined by uniform and duty to chase after you and tear your resolve to pieces like he always did.
You ended things when you knew he couldn’t stop you.
And somehow, that made it worse. Because if there’s one thing you knew about Kim Taehyung, it’s that he never lost. Not really.
Worst of all, he never intended to lose you.
You had stood there, heart pounding, words trembling out of your mouth like fragile glass, fully expecting a reaction. Anger, disbelief, maybe even pain.
But he laughed.
He laughed like you had just told the most ridiculous joke in the world.
Head thrown back, shoulders shaking, lips stretched in that maddeningly beautiful smirk—he laughed so hard that soldiers and officers turned to stare. He laughed for too long until he uttered the words that still haunted you to this day.
Love, we will never be over.
You walked away that day, blocked his number, changed your address and never looked back.
Well, until now.
But that had been more than a year ago, you told yourself. A whole enlistment cycle. A whole lifetime, almost. He was a superstar—the superstar. There was no way he was still holding onto that, right?
Right?
And yet, deep down, under the logic and self-reassurance, under the layers of “he’s moved on” and “you’re safe now,” a familiar chill coiled in your spine.
Because if there was one thing you’d learned from loving him—it was that Kim Taehyung never forgot.
Looking back, there was no way for you to know that someone so well-loved by the public like him could be so…ruthless. So possessive. So traditional.
There was no way you could have known. The world adored him. He was beloved—a walking contradiction of mystery and warmth, always poised with that elegant ease, always smiling like the world had never bruised him. With his slow, thoughtful words and strange little quirks, Taehyung disarmed everyone, and you were no exception.
If only you weren’t swayed by his charming smile, or of how strange he was in the most beautiful way, then maybe you wouldn’t be hiding right now. Yes, you were terrified of him, but it wasn’t because you thought he would physically hurt you.
No.
You were scared of him because of how intense he loved you.
He loved you too deeply that there was no way it would ever be normal. He loved you too deeply that there was no more room for you in the us that he imagined.
Back then, he wanted to know everything—every detail of your day. What you ate. What time you slept. Whether your coworker was a man or woman. And when knowing wasn't enough, he wanted control. Where you went. Who you were with. Why you didn’t text back fast enough. Why your voice sounded tired. Why you were smiling in a photo someone else took.
At first, you made excuses. You called it passion. You called it longing. You rationalized that someone as big as he was basically could not have a simple relationship. That someone like Taehyung, someone so famous and busy, was just desperate to hold on to something real. That you were that something.
But even when you saw him almost every weekend, despite both of your demanding jobs, it was never enough. He was never satisfied with moments. He wanted all of you. He wanted to consume you. He wanted control.
Where you went.
Who you were with.
Why you didn’t text back fast enough.
Why your voice sounded tired.
Why you posted that story without tagging him.
Why you looked so happy in someone else’s photo.
He said it was because he missed you. Because loving you from a distance was unbearable.
And you believed him.
He wanted you by his side, always—
Wanted you on every tour, in every city, behind every curtain.
He wanted to be the only person you needed.
And every night, he wanted to consume you—body, mind, time, and soul.
He asked you to quit your job so you could always be with him.
Said it so calmly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Because, as he told you, he was the man. He should be taking care of you. His woman should not have to lift a finger to live.
“Whatever you want,” he said, “it’s yours.”
But you never wanted to give up your independence. He never understood that despite the endless explanations you gave him.
You had seen what that looked like. You saw how dependent your mother was to your father, and you didn’t want that from you. You never wanted to ask a man for anything.
Taehyung quite literally hated how you couldn’t be with him in each tour or how you couldn’t live with him. In turn, you hated how he couldn’t just let go. You hated how he could not accept that you needed to be independent despite loving him.
You were too tired of it all that at one point, you told him that it was best for you two to see other people. And he just stared at you, eyes dark and wide with disbelief. Then he laughed. Not loud, not cruel. Quiet. Frightening, to which he answered why you needed anyone when you had him.
He said that maybe it was best to remove those people from your life.
Perhaps, asking him to breakup was the wrong thing to say.
Back then, you thought that that was the end, that you signifying your discontent with the relationship would mean it was over between the two of you.
You should have known that there was no leaving Taehyung.
If he couldn’t control you, he would control the situation. He was good at it, you surmised, shaping how other people see him.
He was good at playing the victim.
He was good at manipulating people into thinking that his love was normal and that he couldn’t live without you. He played it too well that you even villainized yourself when he got hospitalized.
They said he collapsed.
Said he hadn’t eaten.
Said he had broken down.
Fans were worried, news of his health took the social media in storm.
Park Jimin had shown up at your door, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. He shoved past you without asking and stood in your living room like he owned the place.
“I didn’t know you were like this,” he said bitterly. “He only ever loved you. And what did you do?”
“You left him.” His voice shook. “How can you be so cruel?”
You had no answer.
Because somehow, Taehyung had made even you question yourself.
Had it really been that bad?
Hadn’t he always just loved you… deeply?
You came back. Of course you did.
But after that, he was even worse.
And now, here you were, uncertain of whether the events that just transpired were back luck or someone who was pulling the strings.
Despite that, your paranoia lessened as days went by.
It was like what happened the day of his discharge were just fluke because what followed was silence. News of him meeting his friends and even attending Hoseok’s concert were all over the social media. He was out there living his best life. It seemed like he was living well, it seemed like he had forgotten about you. There was even no attempt to contact you.
Maybe, the military life changed his outlook for the better.
Maybe the enlistment and rigorous life squashed the darkness and obsessive need in his hear.
Maybe you were overthinking.
But dear, how wrong you were.
It was a little over a week later when it happened—when everything began to unravel.
You were running late one night, dinner with colleagues stretching longer than expected. The car ride home was quiet, and all you could think about was how good it would feel to collapse into bed. You’d had one too many drinks, just enough to fumble with your keys at the door. They slipped from your hand, clattering to the floor.
You bent down to retrieve them—only for the door to slowly creak open on its own in the silence of the night.
Your blood ran cold.
Your gaze dropped to the bare feet inside your apartment, and slowly, it trailed upward—over the hem of cuffed jeans, up the muscular thighs that haunted too many of your memories. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering in panic. You didn’t want to look. You didn’t need to.
Because you already knew.
But you didn’t have to wait for confirmation. Kim Taehyung crouched in front of you, his expression unreadable as he picked up the keys from the floor and held them out to you.
He held them out to you with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Looking for these?” he asked, voice low, calm, like he hadn’t just broken into your apartment. Like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be here.
Your breath caught in your throat.
Your heart thundered against your ribs, panic clawing its way up as you stared at him—his face as achingly beautiful as ever, but his presence colder than the air-conditioned hallway behind you. You tried to speak, tried to find the words that could explain your fear, your confusion, your boundaries—but nothing came.
He tilted his head, studying you, then stood up to his full height. “You look tired,” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “You shouldn't drink so much. It's not safe. What if something happened to you? You should have called me. You know I would have picked you up”
You flinched away from his touch, finally finding the strength to take a step back. “Taehyung,” you whispered, “what are you doing here? H-how did you find me?”
“Love, please don’t be mad,” his deep voice implored you as he reached for your hand, his grip, though it didn’t hurt, was tight. It was clear that you were not going anywhere. His unbridled strength was new to you. Taehyung had always been strong, but this was different.
He pulled you inside your apartment as though it was his, as though he had every right to be there himself. As soon as you stepped over the threshold, you noted the smell of homecooked meals. Your eyes went to your dining table where dinner was set, coupled with candles.
“W-why are you here? How did you find me?!” asked him, pulling your hand away as he closed the door gently. He leaned against the door, body relaxed, but his eyes never left you. And you just knew—if he didn’t want you to leave, you wouldn’t.
“You know…” he began, his voice almost wistful. “I tried to stay away. You hurt me when you left me, did you know that?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
“When you came to the base to break up with me, I was devastated,” he continued, stepping closer. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I kept thinking…why? Why would you say those things? I knew you were only pushing me away because of the eighteen months we had to be apart. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?” His voice dropped to a whisper, lips curving upward in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You were scared I’d forget you. You wanted to see if I’d chase you.”
You took another step back, but your spine hit the edge of the console table behind you.
“I tried,” he repeated, softer now. “I tried to respect your decision. To give you space. But I couldn’t stay away from you.”
His smile was almost self-deprecating. “Isn’t it pathetic that I could only stay away for a week?”
Your hands curled into fists at your sides as your body began to shake not from fear alone, but fury. Fury at him. At yourself. At the twisted, beautiful thing that love had turned into. You shook your head. “I didn’t try to break up with you, Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth, voice rising despite your best efforts. “We broke up. I changed my number. I left my company. I moved apartments. I changed everything just so you wouldn’t be able to find me. We are over.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then, he tilted his head to the side. Something shifted in his expression—not anger, not sadness, but something worse. Amusement. A quiet, terrifying confidence.
You watched his muscles tense beneath the stretch of his black shirt, fabric clinging to the lean power he’d carved into himself over the past eighteen months. He looked different. Sharper. Bigger. A version of him that didn’t need to raise his voice to command a room—or to cage someone in it.
“You don’t really think I didn’t know where you were all this time… do you?” he asked, tone light, almost teasing. “Come on, darling. You know me better than that.”
Your blood turned to ice.
“You know I’d go crazy if I didn’t know where you are,” he continued, his smile softening as if this were some kind of confession, not an admission of obsession. “You know that.”
And just like that, the bottom fell out from under you.
The months of peace you thought you had—the freedom you clung to like a lifeline—all of it shattered in an instant. The new phone, the job, the address, the carefully orchestrated distance... none of it had ever mattered.
Because he had known.
He had always known.
And the freedom you had fought so hard for?
It had only ever been an illusion.
Your breath hitched. You felt it the cold seep of dread slipping into your bones, anchoring you in place as he stepped just a little closer.
“You didn’t really think you could disappear from me, did you?” he asked softly, brushing his fingers along your arm like he was soothing a frightened animal. “Don’t worry. I’m here now.”
if I write another story for when the member gets out of military, who would you want it to be?
timeline is so dead bcs i barely can find new yandere bts fics to enjoy nowadays 💔
to all army fic writers out there, im begging yall to write bunch of bts yandere theme fics again (preferably one-shot). i need those genre to dominate my tl again 😔🙏🏻
warnings. 😵💫. guard!taehyung, player!oc, consensual sexual acts in forms of power play, bandage, orgasm denial, face fucking, spanking, taehyung is. . . arrogant and cocky (pun intended) , his hands, taeconda wbk lmao, edging, finger sucking, some softness
wc. ~3k
a/n : i haven’t watched the drama yet, so please forgive me if there are any factual mistakes (shouldn’t be lol, there’s barely any plot) and this is my second time writing smut/first time writing fellatio so please let it slide if it sounds bad because i was way too impatient to wait and the rumors and or the theories (unlikely) of him appearing in the third season are making me delusional fr 😈
The corridor is suffocatingly quiet, save for the faint whir of crusty old machinery.
Dim overhead lights flicker intermittently, casting dark shadows that stretch and contract like phantom limbs.
You shouldn’t be here. The thought screams louder with every step you take, but it’s drowned out by the pounding of your heart. A part of you relishes because of your rebellion; full of zeal, while the other part is shrinking with fear. Yet, you don’t know which one is responsible for your heart to go hayware.
Either way, you keep on walking.
You grip the edge of the wall tighter, your fingertips brushing against the cold metal, as if the steel could tether you to sanity.
The restricted zone feels different — emptier, darker. As if even the quiet of this lobby is asking you, no, demanding you to leave — but rebellion is so sweet to taste, that perhaps even death cannot make you step back. The air smells off, tinged with the faint metallic tang of something you don’t want to name. The kind of place where secrets go to die.
You force your breath to slow, ears straining for any sign of movement, any hint that someone else might be lurking. But there’s nothing. Just the silence pressing in on you from all sides.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
You flinch.
The voice is low. Dulcet — so smooth it feels like liquid heat is being poured into your ears. You’ve never heard this voice before, and yet it crashes into you with the force of a thunderclap. That calm, quiet power, threaded with something dangerous, coils down your spine and settles deep in your stomach.
The serenity of the voice scares you.
Your entire body goes rigid, blood freezing. Slowly, so painfully slowly, you turn your head. He’s standing at the other end of the corridor, blocking the entrance, and perhaps, the only escape.
Red jumpsuit, square mask. The highest rank among the guards. The ones who don’t ask questions.
For a moment, neither of you move. The fluorescent light above him buzzes faintly, casting an uneven glow over his figure. The mask stares back at you, empty and unyielding, a void you can’t read.
But you feel his eyes. You feel them trailing over you, assessing, dissecting, pinning you where you stand. You feel naked under his gaze despite being fully dressed, and you feel an odd feeling in your insides..
“Lost?” he asks, and the way his voice dips at the end makes your breath hitch. Fuck, oh god.
It’s not just the sound of it—it’s the way it slides under your skin, makes your insides tingle. And he knows. This bastard knows. You can’t see his face, but the slight tilt of his head, the way he lingers just long enough to watch your reaction—it’s deliberate, calculated.
You swallow hard, but your throat feels like sandpaper. “I… I—”
He takes a step forward. You take one back. The air shifts, heavier now, charged with something you can’t quite name.
Your pulse races, each beat like a drum in your ears.
You don’t know if you’re exicted or scared.
“You know what happens to rule breakers, don’t you?” His gloved hand flexes at his side, the movement deliberate, almost lazy. A predator sizing up its prey.
“I—I wasn’t—”
“Save it.” Another step, and he’s close enough for you to catch the faintest trace of his cologne beneath the sterile scent of the suit. It’s woodsy, faintly spiced, and it lingers in the back of your throat like a memory you didn’t know you had. “You don’t belong here. And yet…” He tilts his head slightly, the square on his mask glinting in the dim light.
“Here you are.”
You hate the way your knees threaten to buckle, the way your breathing hitches despite your best efforts to keep it steady. You feel absolutely mortified to feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen like slow fire. There’s no telling what he’ll do. Report you? Drag you back? Or worse — handle the punishment himself.
And God help you, but a part of you is equally as thrilled as terrified to find out.
He’s close now — so close that the full, metallic scent of the corridor is drowned out by something else entirely. Something warm, woodsy, and faintly spiced, like cedarwood and smoke. It lingers in the air between you, curling around your senses, filling your brain up with fog.
The mask tilts, as though he’s watching you with a predator’s curiosity, drinking in every nervous shift of your weight, every shallow breath. You feel overwhelmed and squirmish, hyper aware of him observing your each move.
“What’s the matter?” he murmurs, voice low and unhurried. “Cat got your tongue?”
Your throat feels dry, words caught somewhere between your lungs and lips. You shift back, but the wall at your spine reminds you there’s nowhere left to go.
It’s just you and him.
He leans in just enough to make the hairs on your neck rise, his gloved hand brushing the wall beside your head — close, too close. It’s then you notice his hands: large, impossibly large, even beneath the thin sheen of the gloves. His fingers are long and deft, curling lazily into a fist before releasing, a movement so absentminded it shouldn’t make your stomach flip.
Shouldn’t fill your head with images which practically threatens to take away the little sanity left in you.
“You’re scared,” he muses, more to himself than to you. “But not of what you should be.”
His head tilts again, the mask’s material catching the overhead light. Slowly, his hand rises, not toward you—but toward his own face. His gloved hand rises to the edge of his mask, fingers brushing the seam. He hooks a single finger beneath the edge of his mask.
You barely notice that you’ve stopped breathing.
“You want to see who’s really watching you?”
You can’t stop your eyes from widening. “You want to see who you’re really dealing with?” The words are laced with danger, meant to come about as a taunt. But they dont, they instead spread a fire inside you, like how the veins of a leaf spreads across its surface area.
Slowly, almost languidly, he pulls the mask away, revealing the face beneath.
Oh.
Oh.
Dark, sweat-dampened hair clings to his temples, framing a face that seems carved from shadow and starlight. His eyes are sharp, but, but they hold a soft glimmer — hooded, which gleam with cruel amusement framed underneath thick, strong brows. His lips are slightly parted, as if he knows you’re looking and wants you to keep doing just that.
He is breathtaking. He is gorgeous. And he knows that.
It’s the small things that undo you. The faint sheen of sweat along his sharp jawline. The curve of his smirk, too soft to be mocking but too dangerous to be kind. And that scent —closer now, filling your lungs and making you lightheaded.
“Well?” he asks, voice silkier than before. “Do I live up to the mystery?”
Your mouth moves, but no sound comes out. Your gaze drops despite yourself—past his throat, past the open collar of his jumpsuit, to the slender column of his neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.
Fuck this man.
But it’s his hands that do you in. Bare now, he tugs the gloves free, one finger at a time. His skin is warm-toned, his fingers long and lean, the kind of hands that could either cradle or crush without hesitation. He flexes them casually, like he knows you’re watching.
They are clean. Beautiful. Neatly manicured. . .
“Lost for words?” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are sharp, drinking in every flush of heat that creeps up your neck.
You can’t look at him, but you can’t look away, either.
An image flashes up in your mind. His fingers, the same fingers, rubbing your clit with smooth, slow circles as his other hand restricts the airflow from your throat.
Oh fuck.
You grit your teeth, not trusting yourself enough to conceal any noises that may spill out. However, you fail to supress yourself from squirming, your thighs rubbing themselves together unconsciously as the erotic image flares up your brain.
And he notices that too.
His eyes narrow, and a dry laugh escapes his lips — something similar to a mock, but closer to amusement. You feel your throat dry on the realisation as you try looking away, but the next thing you feel are his hands on your chin.
“You dirty little thing,” his hands are warm — but the tips of his digits cold as they squeeze your cheeks, puckering your lips out, his face inching closer till you can see your own reflection in his pupils.
You feel like closing your eyes, but you can’t.
His breath is warm. Minty. Sweet on your cheeks as he draws each word out like rich honey. “You could be killed here for breaking the rules, but you are thinking of something else. Isn’t that right, doll?”
You feel your clit throb at the nickname.
You shake your head, or atleast you try to. Could there be anything more humiliating than fantasizing about someone as him? Probably. But right now, you feel like not giving him the satisfaction of submission.
His tongue darts out to lick his lips, the plush muscle coating his lips in a sheen layer of saliva.
He shakes his head, and a dry, unamused laugh leaves his throat.
“Filthy little liar,” he coaxes. “Do you know what do liars deserve?”
Your eyes widen, but somehow you feel that it’s not going to be the end of you.
Your eyes burn with tears.
And so do your wrists — they are tied behind you with a rag, and your knees actually feel like they’ve been scraped. But oh, sweet heavens, you feel like you could die after this. His cock rams into your mouth — not even half-way through, and hits the back of your throat. Your instincts have your throat constricting, eyes watering, and body squirming.
It’s nearly been 20 minutes, or so you think, since you’ve been kneeling down, getting fucked in your mouth by none other than the arrogant, handsome guard whose cock is so impossibly thick, you feel your jaws hurt. Suit hunched down to thick thighs and cock fished out of black boxers, you feel like this man actually is going to be the death of you.
Your pussy convulses, gushing out another stream of viscous fluid as his hips snap towards your face once more. He moans, a sweet, honeyed sound which makes your insides churn, a smooth beat which has your ego inflating. Your arms feel numb and your wrists hurt at the loss of circulation, but you remember how cruelly he’d tied your arms after your own fingers had reached down to releive the ache of your weeping pussy after the first thrusts of his cock into the wet cavern of your mouth.
He sneers, and grabs your hair — but his touch is surprisingly gentle, unlike his thrusts. Twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and forces your head on his length.
“Your mouth feels so good, ahh~”
He likes edging himself — or you. He’s been impossibly close thrice, throbbing and pulsing in your mouth, hissing at your tongue licking a particular angry vein on his cock, but he pulled away each time with a harsh grunt.
His eyes are sharp — glimmering under the dull lights of the lobby. He holds the back of my head and pushes himself down your throat, and you feel yourself gag, your mouth dripping with drool, his cock impossibly closer to your throat, still not down the base. “Y-yeah, you dirty liar, choke.”
It wasn’t definitely your first time with a man — but this man? You had no words. You felt your cheeks warm up, your cunt clench and gush out. You moan, the sound muffled by his cock, and looked up into his dark eyes, wordlessly begging for more. . .
What had gotten into you?
Your senses were overwhelmed ; the taste of his cock, its hardness prying your throat open, the smell of his sweat, the glimpses of his golden skin under his suit and impossibly silky hair sticking to his forehead — and each thrust sending you to a gateway of primal lust.
His hands leave your hair.
And what he does catches you off guard. You were busy eyeing his form, and he takes the advantage of that. His hips buck back to your mouth, freely thrusting as if you were a toy — nudging your throat open as he moaned in victory, his hands on his hips, teeth tugging his lower lips as he presses his cock closer.
“Look at you,” he lets out a small laugh. “Such a good girl. Taking cock so well.”
Your insides feel mushy with the praise. He fucks you through as you willed your throat to relax, knowing that each spasm tightened your throat around his cock, turned him on even more — you could already feel his cock throb back again.
He grits his teeth, and then your mouth is empty.
He’s pulled back — his wrapping around his length, and good heavens, even his enormous hands dont make up to the size of his cock as he lazily strokes his shaft. Red, so red it’s nearly a shade of purple — enlarged and throbbing. Your tongue flicks out as you whine at the loss of cock and he smirks ; as his thumb swipes the pearling pre come over his sapping tip, twisting his strokes as they get frantic, rushed, and more desparate.
“So eager for cum, are you?”
He tries sounding tough, but his voice wavers, ending off in an airy note. Fuck, he is close. His lips part and his head is tossed back as he fucks his fist, jerking off you resist the urge to squirm. The sight is so unbelievably hot — the arrogant guard is about to come.
He looks down at you as the first rope of his seed hits your agape mouth.
Warm, salty, and slightly bitter.
He fills up most of your mouth with his come as he keeps on jerking, and you must say that his aim is pretty accurate. Although some of it dribbles to your cheeks and chin as he groans, a sound so primal you feel your cunt clench and throb, knowing that you made him come so hard that you can see his eyes rolled to the back of his head as the last splurt of come hits your tongue.
You eagerly gulp down his release, surprised at how pleasant he tastes, and how easily you agreed to shallow down.
He, however, doesnt stop.
He leans down to you, close, impossibly close till you can feel the warmth of his face radiating to you. His hand cradles your face as one of his fingers swipe at the come on your cheeks and brings it to your lips.
“You don’t wanna waste it, do you?”
You happily oblige.
But you don’t stop either — you swirl your tongue around the digit, long and slender, similiar to how you’d done to his cock. You see his nostrils flare, and another arrogant smirk tugging up his lips as he narrows his eyes at you, pulling his finger away with a pop.
His hands reaches down to straighten up your shoulders — as your tits perk up, still clothed, but the outline of your pebbled nipples are prominent.
Your cheeks burn at the intensity of his gaze on your chest.
He squats down to your height — and before you realise, your arms are bound free. They feel numb and cold, and you flex them around a bit as blood rushes back to your wrists. You feel slightly awkward and blue balled, still feeling your wetness cling to your folds and your abdomen swirl with heat, but —
His arms slide underneath your thighs as he throws you over his shoulders.
“Wha. . . !! ” your throat feels sore, but you hope he gets the surprise you feel being over his shoulders, limbs held down by him, ass in the air and arms holding onto their dear life on his suit as he carries you both forward. Anyone could see you like this — your bare cunt and ass on display, but you don’t think it bothers him.
Or you. If anything, you feel your heart pick its rate at the idea of being caught.
One of his hands lands a slap on your cheeks and your body jolts forward as you yelp, feeling the sting on the muscle as his huge arm caresses the area, your body carried away by him with long, huge and hurried strides. To somewhere you possibly don’t know. . . .
But you aren’t scared, as ironic as that sounds.
“Did you think we were done already, doll?”
a/n : how did we like it? 😈 your feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading 💜
warnings— fondling/body inspection, slut shaming, mentions of being drugged(not by jungkook), somnophilia, size difference, big dick jungkook, degradation, unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, breeding
‘Watch over your sister for me, yeah? I really didn’t want you brats to come along on my honeymoon but her mom insisted.’
‘Step-sister.’
Jungkook curses under his breath, lathering his chest with sun protection from the pool chair he’s been glued to while silently watching you prance around flirting with every damn Alpha in sight.
This is fucking ridiculous.
He tried to argue with his father, exclaiming loudly that he’s no one’s babysitter. He’s too old for this shit, you are too old for this shit. Only to get shut down immediately and reprimanded for being so insolent.
It’s only been 3 months since your parents mated and decided to take the traditional human route. An absurdly overpriced wedding ceremony and luxury cruise honeymoon, one that he had zero interest in being a part of, and yet here he is. Against his will.
‘Not everyone can be lucky enough to bring their kids along on a once in a lifetime vacation like this.’ Your mom had said with a huge smile, squeezing you against her side while Jungkook’s father grimaced and forced a pleased grin onto his unenthused face.
Kids? He’s a fucking grown ass man. Not his fault that piled up student loans have screwed him out of the opportunity to move out sooner. He’s not the one that insisted on becoming a doctor.
‘No son of mine will embarrass my name with some bullshit nonsensical career. Medical school is the only option unless you plan to find your ass on the street in a few weeks.’
God, his dad can be such a fucking dickhead.
The last thing Jungkook wanted was to spend a week stuck on a cruise ship with you of all people. Even worse when he found out you’d be sharing a room together. At least he got to claim the bed closest to the window, not that looking out of a cruise ship did much other than make his stomach turn upside down.
This is seriously miserable. And of course you managed to pack nothing but the skimpiest summer outfits. If your parents weren’t so busy holed up together likely fucking like rabid newlyweds(disgusting), he’s sure that your mother would have some choice words for your attire.
“Should you really be wearing that?” He snickered at you this morning. Still laying in bed when you exited the bathroom with your hair and face all dolled up. Nothing but a string bikini and sheer sarong hung on your hips. “It’s 9 in the morning.”
“We’re on a cruise and it’s mid-August. Just because you like to create a sauna for your balls in those baggy sweats doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy summer.” You shot him a glare before sliding on a pair of sunglasses. Flicking your hair over your shoulder and exiting your shared room without another glance. “Later loser.”
Really, he should slap you. Right on the ass. It’s not as if you have any problem showing it off. Especially not around the hungry unmated Alphas that have started to swarm around you at the pool currently. His father would probably pat him on the back for putting you in your place, someone has to. Who knows when the last time was that you had a real Alpha in your life that corrected this foul behavior for you. Heaven knows your mother is much too clueless to bother punishing you for acting like such a..
“Slut.” He scoffs quietly, rolling his eyes. Another young, unmated, handsome Alpha approaches you, easily gliding an arm around your waist with a huge grin on his face that you reciprocate. This has to be the seventh guy that’s approached you in only the last 2 hours now. It can’t seriously be this easy..
It’s annoying more than anything to listen to you squeak out little playful screams, soft breathy giggles, utilizing your loose hands to grab onto the many different bulging biceps attempting to latch around you. Jungkook can’t help but to feel more and more enraged the longer he sits here watching. God, you haven’t even noticed him.
He can’t stand to watch this bullshit for much longer. His dad had bribed him with limitless spa visits and bar access anyway for agreeing to come.
He sighs and hesitantly gets up, sauntering his way over to you. Taking a hold of your elbow from behind, he pulls you against his chest. “Hey you.” He says flatly, tone low and serious.
“Huh? Ew, get off of me!”
Jungkook’s ready to tell you off, only to be stopped by 2 large Alphas that shove him back. “Hey man! You heard her!”
“Stop stop!” You intervene before they can pummel him into smithereens. “He’s my step-brother.”
A silent ominous dread passes between the two of you, catching each other's gaze for only a few fleeting seconds before looking away. “Whatever.” He mutters, carelessly waving you off. “Hope they do something unforgivable to you.”
He’ll regret whispering that if any of these brutes touch you without your consent. They shouldn’t. They don’t even know or care about you. Not that he does either.. but he knows you well enough to know that these aren’t the Alphas you should be wasting your time with.
The bar calls to him, charging his way towards the one far away from the pool area. His march slows down, coming to a halt mid-hallway to shove his head inside of a dark room full of neon lights and rapid clicking sounds.
“Gaming room?!” Leave it to his father to fail to mention this ship has a huge fucking arcade. He’s always hated Jungkook’s lifelong gaming addiction. Knowing his son, he’d predict for him to be holed up in here the entire trip instead of enjoying his vacation.
Hours and hours fly by as he competes with the other losers holed up in the ships arcade. Young men with no interest in burning off their first layer of skin out on deck. He plays well into the evening until his hand starts to cramp up and he envisions a clear future of himself 50 years down the line with a permanently claw shaped grip.
“I should head out.” He announces. Bowing before parting ways with the new group of shipmates he befriended while playing, mentioning to catch up with them tomorrow. He walks out toward the room he’s sharing while rubbing at his stomach. Definitely missed dinner while lost in an intense brawl in Street Fighter, room service would have to do.
He’s starving actually, the more he thinks about it. You had a lot of snacks when you unpacked, maybe he could sneak something for himself. By now you’re probably locked up in some Alphas room doing what he refuses to let his mind imagine.
The last thing he’d expect to see when unlocking the door is you laid out in bed, flat on your stomach and fast asleep. Still in your tiny bathing suit, curled up like a kitten breathing softly. It takes him aback for a few seconds, gripping onto the door frame as he takes in your manicured toenails, smooth waxed limbs, and the pert round of your ass jutted out so nicely. Locking the door behind him, he recalls his father’s words to watch out for you, make sure you stay out of trouble.
Something about how a pretty little Omega like you is susceptible to dangerous Alphas wanting nothing more than to bite into your supple flesh. To mark you as theirs.
Jungkook should check, make sure his dads worries have not come true. That’s the only reason he gingerly lifts your ankle up and smooths his palm up your calf. Slowly tracing up the muscle in search of any markings that could indicate an Alpha attempted to claim you as theirs.
It’s amazing how silky soft your skin feels, not a single bump or even a slight hint of stubble. You really must have gotten waxed before venturing out on this trip, which only makes him wonder if you opted for a full body service. That would only make sense, what with the 10 different stringy bikini sets he watched you pull out of your luggage.
“Hmm,” pushing your thighs apart, he climbs onto the bed. Knees sinking into the mattress between your spread open legs.
Inner-thigh would be a prime area for any Alpha to leave a mark. Something not too obvious that reeks of ownership. “Nothing.”
Not a single mark on your smooth skin, so easily rippling under his touch. Sinking and kneading his fingertips into the meaty flesh lining your upper thigh, he can’t stop the sigh that exits his mouth. Leaning down closer to untie your sarong.
You must have come back from the pool all heat exhausted and knocked out. Good thing, because any Alpha would be too tempted around an Omega so innocently vulnerable like this. Not Jungkook though, he’d never do anything to hurt you. That’s why he has taken it upon himself to watch after you, his precious baby step-sister. Because who better than him to make sure a bratty Omega like you knows her place?
Oh what’s that? Is that..
“Bite marks.” He sneers, pushing your buttcheeks open to get a full look at what looks like indentations left behind on the top of your left ass cheek. Who the fuck have you been allowing to mark up your otherwise flawless complexion?
Right on your ass? You fucking slut.
He licks at his teeth out of hunger, sitting back on his haunches and bending in even closer for a real magnified look. Cupping your ass and pushing your butt apart, he buries his fingers into your buttcheeks. The tip of his round nose brushes along the backs of your thighs. Squinting at your rim covered only by a small teenie lycra material that flexes with each rough massage from his hands.
They could be teeth marks, maybe a light scratch. Maybe his heated up brain is playing tricks on him. Either way, one thing is for certain, no one should be leaving a mark on you. No one except him.
“Jungkook?” Your groggy confused voice opens his eyes wide and full. Looking up over the roundness of your bottom, he catches your gaze momentarily. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done weeks ago.”
Jungkook gulps, shaking his head rapidly with his back pressed to the door. He hasn’t moved an inch since entering your room. Swallowed up by the scent of you spread between these four walls. He has to work to control his breathing, reaching up to physically cover his eyes and push away the thoughts filling up his head.
He shouldn’t be imagining such things. Thinking up the different ways he could touch you so inappropriately..
No. He shouldn’t be salivating over his step-sister passed out in bed half nude. Vulnerable for any deplorable Alpha to take advantage of. It’s his job to protect you, to make sure your precious womb remains untouched from any unworthy Alpha scumbag.
“Jungkook?” You ask out sleepily, voice all tired from screaming and laughing with random Alphas.
“Yeah.” He says through gritted teeth, forcing himself away from the door.
“Smelled you.”
“Oh yeah.” Stiffly sitting down on his bed, he squeezes at the tops of his thighs. Pushing his legs together tightly to quell the warmth building up in his ballsack. “Tired?”
“Mmmph..” mumbling something incoherent, you roll over until you reach the edge of the bed. Pushing yourself off to stand clumsily and furiously blink sleep away from your eyes. “I d-don’t even know why.” You slur, swaying from foot to foot.
Jungkook frowns, observing your lazy hunched forward posture. How you can’t stabilize yourself, how your hands flail in search of something to grab onto. “Hey, what’s going on?” He says, mildly concerned. Standing back up to rush over and grab a hold of you before you collapse back onto the bed.
Lazy eyes struggle to blink up at him, spending extra time attempting to fully open them and get a look at his face. You almost look..
“Are you drunk? Did you take something??”
“N-no..” you gargle, easing into his hold more comfortably. “Feel dizzy..”
Fuck. He knew it. Those fucking untrustworthy Alphas must have slipped you something. “What did you take?”
“W-water..” clutching your hands onto his biceps, you squeeze down to keep yourself standing. Scuttering on the balls of your feet and toes trying to stay steady.
“Water?!” He practically shouts, moving around to set you down on your bed. He sits you up right, grabbing a hold of your face to get a better look at your eyes. “Fuck, don’t you know better than to accept drinks from strangers?!?”
“Stop yelling at me!” You whine, scrabbling at his abdomen. “I f-feel.. nothing. Can’t feel anything at all.”
“God, just—hold on.” Letting go of his grip on you, he spins around quickly to the bathroom. Searching for a small cloth towel to immerse in cold water while slamming open a cabinet that had complimentary water bottles stowed away inside when you arrived.
Fuck, this wouldn’t even be happening right now if you’d just listened to him in the first place. If you’d just let him stick around to watch those assholes you were hanging out with. How could you let this happen?!? He’s going to have to keep you under a tight watch for the rest of this stupid cruise.
“Alright, you need to drink this.” He instructs walking back into the room. Halting dead in his tracks when he sees you knocked out once again.
Only on your back this time, legs slightly spread open. Leaving him no choice but to gawk at how smooth your inner thighs are. How your tiny little bikini clings to your pussy. He stumbles back against the door frame and forces his eyes shut to catch his breath, has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating again.
At least you’re safe with him now, here in this room you’re sharing. Safe with the pounding heat between his legs growing larger by the second. Every ounce of worry he had dissipates quickly in favor of once again taking in your legs hanging off the bed. The way your chest slowly rises and falls back down with each easy breath you inhale and exhale.
“You’re impossible.” He says to himself, pushing off from the door. Dragging his feet across the floor, he plops down next to you, reaching to move the strands of hair away from your face that cover your cheek. You’re really out of it, eyes open enough to see some of the whites, breathing so softly and calmly. Completely unaware of your step-brother’s internal struggle. So innocently naive to his gaze burning down your body.
He shudders a little bit, bouncing around the cooled down wash cloth in his other hand. He should place it on your head.. should try to wake you back up. Yes, because he knows that’s the right thing to do.
“You need to wake up.” He struggles to say through wads of saliva collecting in his mouth. Laying the towel against your forehead gently, he traces down your cheek to your parted lips. Lightly tapping the middle of your plump bottom lip. “And drink water.” Letting out a sigh, he continues to brush tendrils of hair away from your neck. Smoothing them back past your shoulders and chest.
That’s when he sees it, a jagged little mark on the side of your neck. It’s light, as if a set of teeth tried to dig in and failed. A smidge of blood, barely a hint of it, dried up along the peeled skin.
Anger rushes through him rapidly, clutching his hand into a tightly balled up fist. He sits up fast and hooks onto your shoulders. Hoisting you off the bed to press his nose in close to the barely-there wound. The scent of Alpha hits him first before your savory sweetness can. Instantly causing his blood to boil. He snarls at the hint of another Alpha trying to claim you against your will.
Trembling hands pull you up the bed, shaking as he moves to stand and looks over you. If those brutes could get this close to your scent gland, who knows where else they could have left a mark. He can’t calm down enough to rationalize whether or not this is a bad idea. Every inch of him screams to lick you clean. Clean off the unwanted and unpermitted scent of trash lingering to your skin.
It’s what your parents would want.. your mother would lose her mind if she knew you’d let any old Alpha touch you improperly.
This is his duty as your older brother.
Step-brother.
He sinks back onto your bed, knees digging into the mattress by your side. Licking over his lips as he hunches over your limp body, drained of energy by whatever was slipped into your drink. He has to get closer, get a good look at every inch of your precious skin.
Starting at your neck, he checks behind your ears. Along your nape, down to your collarbone, lift your arms up to drag his nose along the inside of your forearm down to the crook of your elbow.
Unknown scents of Alpha continue to swarm around him, furiously moving faster to find something he may have missed. It’s nothing like his fantasy this time, he can’t control himself anymore the stronger your delectable sugary sweetness infiltrates his senses. Throwing a leg over your hips, he mounts your lower half and proceeds to reach for the triangles covering your breasts. Groaning as he pulls them down and your fat tits bounce out so freely. “Fuck.” He salivates, licking at his sharp canines.
No marks, nothing to ruin your perfect breasts. Your nipples pointed up taut and hard from the cool air filling up your room. The wrinkled skin of your aureoles a few shades darker, tempting his hungry mouth the longer he examines the skin between your chest. “They could have gotten you here, huh?” Sucking at his teeth, he smooths up your stomach and cups under your natural heavy tits. Pushing them up with a groan. His hips roll down against yours instinctively without a second thought. The marks of your bikini top indentations line up above your rib cage, pushing more saliva to swallow up his tongue.
“Fuck, see, this is where I would have marked you.” He mutters raspily, hips jerking again. The tent in his pants poking at your mound. “Mom and dad would never be able to notice, not with these big pretty titties. They’d sit just right on any mark, cover them up perfectly.”
He hisses, lapping at the drool leaking from the corners of his lips. Who is he kidding? He’d have to leave bite marks all over you. Needs to make it clear that you belong to him only. Your flesh, your sex, every centimeter of your body is his. It’d be for the best, such a stupid Omega like you, so easily impressed by Alphas far beneath you. Jungkook would make sure you’d act proper, that your eyes would never roam away from him.
As tempted as he is to do just that right now, he has to keep looking. Desperate to ensure that the rest of your flawless skin hasn’t been fucked with, he scours lower. Dragging the tips of his fingers down to your waist, digging into the dips there. “You’re so pretty, it’s no wonder they were all over you out there. Should have let me put them in their place and set the rules down.” Gruffly speaking, he continues to venture lower, reaching the strings of your bikini.
“You didn’t..” raising an eyebrow, he pulls at the bows tied up on your hips. Gingerly lifting the straps up to unveil your mound. Hairless, absolutely hairless, and so God damn smooth. It’s unbelievable that you could be even prettier between your thighs, your most hidden area. “None of them would deserve it, you know that right?” He goes on conversing with himself like a man gone mad, scooting back to barely place his weight on your knees.
“I would keep my Omega satisfied.” He nods to himself, revealing the rest of your cunt with a deep inhale. “Fuck.”
You’re perfect, absolutely perfect in every way. Twitching his cock to full size against his pelvis, he can’t stop his hips from jumping forward. Dropping the strings of your bathing suit just to sit back for a moment to drag his eyes all over your body. From your supple rounded breasts lifting up on top of the rise from your lungs expanding, to the dip in your waist trailing down to your curved hips encasing the cutest little pussy he’s ever seen.
It wouldn’t be right for any other Alpha to have you over him. He’s the only one who would treat you right.. keep you safe and give you a good life. You’d never have to work, only worry would be to keep your Alpha pleased. Wouldn’t be hard at all judging by the way his cock can’t stop throbbing, pushing against his bottoms to be let out.
Looks like those creeps weren’t around your thighs, that’s good.. maybe one of them got too bold while sniffing around your throat. Unless..
Sinking down lower with his stomach pressed to the bed, he nudges your knees apart more. Slipping in closer until his face is right in front of your core. “Did you let any of them touch you here?” He asks almost mindlessly. Tongue heavy and mind blanketed with a thick haze.
The Jungkook you’ve come to know as your step-brother is long gone by now, fully taken over by his Alpha instincts that crave to feel you from the inside. To stuff himself so deep inside of you so that you only taste him for weeks to come. “Let me get a look at you baby.” Sucking at the saliva pooled in his mouth, he parts your thighs open even more with a muffled groan.
He’s not one to use terms of endearment with you ever, overcome by his desire to leave his own marks behind, he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Just like that.” Huffing through his nose, he grabs onto your knees to press the sides of your thighs against the bed. Spreading you completely open for his curious and hungry gaze.
Fuck. You’re already wet, so wet. There’s no way you didn’t let one of those pigs touch you here. That simply won’t do, Jungkook can’t let their scent stain your gorgeous Omegan aroma. Can’t let remnants of those Alphas remain inside of you.
You’d let them fill you full of his seed, wouldn’t you? So desperate to be loved by anyone. You’d let them use you like nothing but a cheap Omega whore.
A twitch up your thigh under his caressing palm snaps him out of his mental despair. Shaking off his anger to squint and get a good look at your parted open labia folds. They glisten so fucking pretty.
Looks normal, tight little hole pulsing lightly. Continuously streaming a line of slick down to the crevice between your squished buttcheeks. But maybe he needs to do a more thorough check. Really get in there.. who knows. Asshole Alphas are capable of anything.
Shifting himself into a better position for his face to hover near your cunt, he swipes a thumbs gently between your puffy outer folds. “Fucking hell..” he whispers, sucking drool once more before leaning his face in even closer. Getting his nose close enough to suck up a deep greedy inhale of your sweet slick without actually touching you, yet.
Slick won’t stop trickling out even now, raising one of Jungkook’s eyebrows with interest as he purses his lips and blows at your exposed clit. That earns tremor through your limbs, bouncing under his hand that’s still laid on top of one of your thighs. Each small touch from his thumb moving your folds from side to side to get a look at every inch of you seems to ignite another shiver. Clenching your tight entrance each time trembles work through your body. He curses under his breath with fixated large eyes stuck on your hole, grinding his teeth together to not let out another obscene compliment about how pretty your pussy is.
It’s too much for him, already dizzied by only looking at your wet cunt. He almost caves when your thighs begin to snap around him, forcing his hand to slide off as your stomach folds in and you let out one of the sweetest pitchiest moans he’s ever heard.
There’s no way.. no way all it took was some barely there touching to make you cum. “Did you really just—“
In full awe, he grabs onto your trembling thighs once again to set them against the bed. Returning his hand back to your pussy to stroke between your sensitive lips. “That really all it takes to get you off baby? Cause I have so much more for you.”
Jungkook contemplates how much longer he can continue to inspect you before his dick suffocates and dies inside of his pants. Using two of his digits to hold you open, his other hand smooths up your thigh. Flicking his thumb out teasingly at the small hood hiding your clit.
“How many Alphas have had their way with you baby?” He asks desperately. Fearing that you haven’t had many, if any at all. No slutty Omega could ever cum this easily, only one so touch deprived and needy.. “My baby sister..” he hisses, licking at his teeth. “You’re really too sweet and innocent, aren’t you?”
Stretching your slicked up folds apart again, he slowly blinks and sighs. Tapping your fluttering hole. “I’m way too big. I’ll break you.”
And that’s exactly what you need, to be broken. No other Alpha should have this chance with you. Jungkook’s doing you a favor, really. He’s doing this as a man with your best interest who cares about you and loves you.
“You’ll thank me later.”
Settling between your thighs, he strips the strings of your swimsuit away. Sliding the material out from beneath you to leave you completely nude for his lust filled eyes. His hands itch again, slowly dragging from your ankles, up your smooth calves, to your knees and thighs. Pinching and kneading the skin lining your inner thighs as he swallows down another breathy groan and reaches for his pants.
It’s hot as fuck inside of his boxers, sticky with precum and the heat radiating off of his skin from keeping his cock trapped for so long. He deserves an award for taking this much time to appreciate and admire you like the piece of art you are before hanging you up on his walls for no one other than himself to enjoy.
He’d bury his face between your thighs if not for the way his dick smacks against his abdomen, leaving a stream of wet above his navel. He’s shocked he didn’t cum from that alone. Softly grunting as he peels off the rest of his clothing and works simultaneously to kick and toss aside the damp materials coated with his sweat.
“That’s better.” He whispers, pulling the backs of your thighs onto his bare ones. It’s only right with the way your pussy hasn’t stopped dripping down onto the bedding that he assists your needs. Even if you were to wake up now, you wouldn’t stop him. You’d moan and beg for more. For Alpha to somehow get deeper inside of you than he already plans to.
You really are too small now that he slaps his cock down onto your mound. Rubbing his lips together as he drags the tip past your bellybutton and stays still to take in how fucking big he looks against your stomach. With his dick fully sheathed inside of you, he’ll practically be fucking between your lungs.
How is he supposed to even get his cockhead inside of your tiny little pussy? Let alone far enough inside of you to paint your cervix white with his hot cum.
Reaching under the weight of his heavy length, he spreads your cunt open again with his digits. Struggling to hold you wide open with the amount of slick that’s gathered between your pussy folds. He shifts back letting out a wet gasp as he slides the head of his cock down to your hole.
It’ll hurt if he fucks you already, you might even wake up. Might thrash around and shout that it’s too much, it’s too damn much for your sweet tight cunt to take. A few more thrusts and he’d have you singing a different tune. It’s just too tempting to not try, to stop himself from pushing in a mere inch of his thick girth. To watch your hole expand past the slit of his tip, fight against the wide stretch that splits you open.
Supple soft thighs twitch around him as he does just that and teases at your entrance. Biting down on his lips with wrinkled eyebrows, he can’t stop the pleasured moan that escapes. He knew you’d love it, the small bit of contact from his cock already jolting your hips up for more.
Popping the little bit of tip out that he got inside, he lets out a winded gasp. Clutching onto the base of his cock before dragging it through your folds, prodding the chubbed up flesh from side to side. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Probably thinking about me. All the ways you want Alpha to ruin your pretty fucking cunt.”
He’s delirious now, muttering nonsense the more he fights against himself to not glide his cock inside of you. A moment of silence washes over him as he takes you in one more time. How God damn pretty you look, all peaceful with shiny drool on your lips, parted open quietly panting but still loud enough for his ears to pick up on. Nipples erect, hard and pointed at him begging to be nibbled on.
So perfect in every way. His little step-sister, his Omega.
A quiet breathy moan draws him back, shaking his head rapidly before staring down at you with huge wide eyes. He scoops around your thighs, tugging you over his hips completely. “I know baby, I know.”
Swiping his cock between your folds again, he gets himself nice and wet. Slick dripping down to his balls before placing his cockhead against your hole again. Slowly inching closer, he stuffs the tip against your resisting hole, groaning deep as he pushes in more than just that half inch he teased you with. Getting the fat tip of his size further in until your cunt hole snaps around him and your breath catches. Chest rising faster from the intrusion of a thick size you’ve never taken before.
Wedging himself even deeper between your legs, he finds the perfect angle to start rolling his hips forward. The first thrust of his cock inside of you still struggles against how tight you are even with the amount of slick pouring out of your hole around his size. It takes a few more attempts before he finally feels himself sinking inside of your wet heat. Jaw dropping at the suck around his cock, how your walls throb against his penetrating girth and try to push him out and pull him in at the same time. It’s fucking mind numbing, rolling his eyes back as he gets the rest of his dick slotted inside of you until he’s filled you to the brim.
“Fuck baby.” A loud deep groan bursts out of him, unbothered by how loud he’s being anymore. If you wake up, then fucking wake up. He’d love to see you try to deny how good this feels, how right this is. “So warm, wet..” he rambles, going on to himself about how tight you are. How good you suck him in, clenching even tighter around him on his next thrust inside. He can’t stop groaning now, shaking sweaty strands of hair away from his face as he reaches for your waist for better leverage. Using his rough grip on you to build up speed and pin you to the bed.
“Fuckfuck!” Jungkook gets too rough too fast, stealing broken sobs out of you. Bouncing your body higher up the bed with each violent thrust until the top of your head meets the wall and he has to grab onto your shoulders to keep you in place for his cock to take and take.
“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” He says breathily, eyes wrinkling shut when you tighten up around him so much that he’s forced to slow down. Using extra strength to fuck in past how tight you’ve gotten, how much your pussy sucks around him indicating how close you are to release. He can’t hold back the string of curses that scream out between his grinding teeth. Pounding his cock in harder as your hips rise up from the bed like you’re offering yourself to him. Even asleep you’re such a fucking slut.
“T-too good, feel too good for me.” He nearly whimpers. Hips stilling when your thighs quiver on his and a hot stream of clear liquid shoots out around his hidden cock. Powerful enough to make him stop, out of breath and slumped over in awe watching as slick fountains out around him.
“God sweetheart, no way you seriously j-just fucking squirted.” Gasping for air, he has to tear his gaze away from where his dick begins to slide halfway out of you. Gritting his teeth to tone down the dragged out moan that slips out. Slick completely covers his groin, filthy and clumped up in his pubic hair. Wetting his cock enough for his next thrust to cram the entirety of his size inside of you seamlessly. “You’re taking me so good now. My pretty fucking Omega learns so fast.”
Jungkook hooks around your thighs, fully slotted inside of your tight delicious cunt as he props his feet hard against the mattress for better force. Throwing the fronts of your thighs to your chest, he draws out to the tip only to slam his lower half back down and pretzel you into a brutal mating press position. Determined to stuff your pussy to the brim with his seed, he pummels down harder. Building up a fast and steady rhythm from the start despite the sweat that drips down into his eyes.
“That’s it, take it.” Curling in his upper lip, he sucks at the sweat trickling down. Dropping his body against your limp one. He sinks you deeper into the cruise ship bed that will never be the same again once he’s done with you. “Take it so fucking good, gonna fuck you full of my pups. Make you my breeding bitch.”
Lost to his Alphas desires, he continues to plow into you. Eyes heavy with sweltering body heat and sweat, failing to notice your own fluttering open. You under him, finally awoken by the overstimulating sensitivity shooting from your core.
“J-Jungkook..” you whisper helplessly. Blearily staring up at the beast on top of you having every bit of his way with you.
“Fu-fuck!” He cries out, digging into the backs of your knees. Pushing at them until they meet your shoulders and he can push his cock inside of you balls deep. The deep growling call of Alpha rips out of him, face scrunched up as hot semen ripples its way out of his heavy balls pressed to your ass. Shooting out violent streams of hot cum to coat your cervix with as he promised himself.
Slowly heaving for breath and blinking, you meet his ravenous gaze. Opening and shutting your mouth to get some saliva on your dried tongue. Pathetically squeezing around his cock for the last bits of cum.
“Y-you came inside of me..” you say confused, sounding drowsy. Straining your neck to watch as he pulls out, releasing a loud wet pop as his softening length slaps against his upper thigh. Gleaming in remnants of your slick mixed with his seed. The feeling of emptiness between your thighs immediately sinks down your chest. Letting out a soft complaining whine, having to calm your Omega from embarrassing you and begging to be stuffed full of cock again.
Jungkook grabs onto your thighs, cupping the backs of them and hauling them up to expose your gaped cunt. The size of his thick cock leaving you stretched open, angling your hips up to watch his cum glide deeper inside of you. “I did.”
“I’m not on the pill.” You say quietly and ashamed. Turning your face to the side to bury into a pillow.
A groan rumbles up his chest, licking at his bottom lip with a pleased hum. The visual of your pussy swallowing down his future pups and your confession shoots through his cock. “Your mom would be so proud, getting pupped by your step-brother. You could only ever pray to every deity to be so lucky.”
“You can’t..” you sigh. More exhausted now after climaxing over and over again. “They’d disown us.”
Jungkook throws your thighs down onto the bed, stroking his cock back to its fully hardened size. “Let them then.” Grabbing onto your hip, he pushes you onto your stomach. Wrapping one of his hands along the back of your neck before you can break out of the position he’s got you into. “You’re mine now Omega. Won’t stop fucking you until you’re bred full of my pups. Gonna keep you stuck on my knot from now on.”
“Jungkook..” mild fear sounds in your voice, shifting your face to plant your cheek to the bed. Peering back at him from the corner of your eye.
“Beg for it.” He says dangerously. Slapping his full hard size against your ass. Hissing from the way your skin ripples upon contact. Soft and supple under the weight of his heavy cock.
A silent moment of curiosity and anticipation passes between you. Blinking long and slow at him before pouting. “Alpha..”
“Say it.”
“Alpha, please,” shoving your stomach against the bed, you arch out. Presenting your bottom to him. “Knot me.”
“You didn’t think that having Jungkook save you from an abusive arranged marriage by marking you would mean that you would have to marry him instead. Yet here you are. Bonded to him for life, with his father threatening to ban you if you fuck it up and with your marriage night one step away. It wouldn’t be that scary if you weren’t aware that his family doesn’t bond with omegas.”
- Sequel to Alpha -
Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader
Genre: Werewolves!AU, forced marriage!AU, childhood best friends to lovers!AU, marriage night!AU, Angst, Romance, SMUT
Warnings: Hard Dom!Jungkook, happy sub!Reader, size & strength kink, he is a lot taller than her, angst & misunderstandings in the beginning, poor woman gets threatened left and right at her own bonding party, please protect her, Kook is hurt by her at first but the problem gets solved hihi, her brother is a dick tbfh, insanely protective!Jungkook, whipped Alpha in loveeee, lots of kisses and touches, he is really soft with her & just a lil nervous, he is so lethal tbfh no wonder she gets turned on by him so easily bahaha, kissing & biting of her scent spots, the spots are on her neck and her tits and her inner thighs, he accidentally stimulates them long enough that she goes into heat, which makes him go into his ruts <3, this is a really passionate bonding night for sureeee, intense and hungry nipple sucking, her poor omega tits swell and produce sweet liquid (not milk just idk omega liquid lmaloaooa listen I made this up as I was going and it's hot), Jungkook eats it upppp, sooooo much slick, lots of drool and tears hihih, rough penetrative sex with his big alpha cock, knotting, lots of orgasms for both, breeding with his hot cum mhmh, listen he fucks her roughly while he is knotted which means she repeatedly gets penetrated by his knot, she likes it cause she is so into him, stimulation of her cervix which feels really good for an omega, she is in heaven with him fr, he never felt as good before as well, sex in missionary then in mating press and then just tangled up in a mess of limbs, praise, hand holding, he calls her "baby" & "my love" & "princess", the cuddliest and safest and giggliest aftercare, they're not aware of it yet but they're true mates <3, oh yeah! they break the bed
Wordcount: 15.8k
a/n: YOU HOES (affectionately) ASKED FOR IT AND THIS HOE (me, derogatory) LISTENED!!! I FUCKING LISTENED!!! AND I AGREED!! We need more Alpha!Kook in our life and on this blog. This is the hottest smut ever like (tmi but) i need to jerk it afterwards, which rarely happens with my smut HFAHDSFH i need him to be my alpha husband and rearrange my guts daily tbfh 😔 have fun besties, i hope this is a worthy enough sequel to the first part 😩💛 ps: for all you omegaverse veterans, i'm still a newbie to this AU and this story is MY interpretation of the AU hehe any rule changes are done intentional to my comfort levels <3
If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would mean This, perhaps you never would have agreed. Perhaps if the night hadn’t been so stormy and you so hopeless, you wouldn’t have said yes.
But you did and now you are here. In front of the entire pack, in a long dress as your pack’s priest is talking about eternal faithfulness. You knew that being marked by an alpha would mean that you had to be with him, but didn’t think it would mean This.
Your family is in the audience. First row, next to Jungkook’s family. Your brother stares at you with a look you can’t quite make out. You still can’t really stand his face. Jungkook’s father seems displeased and you don’t blame him. The little stunt you pulled made alpha Urquard furious and it was Jungkook’s father who had to take care of it. He wanted to trade another omega at first, but Jungkook stopped him before that could happen. You didn’t get to see Jungkook for two whole days after this incident and when he came back, his upper lip was chipped and he didn’t want to talk about what happened.
“Urquard’s not gonna bother our pack again. That’s all you need to know”, he told you tiredly while you tried to nurse his lip. “And there’s something else. It’s about us”, he then continued.
“About us? What about us?”
“If we wanna keep living here, we have to do something.”
“What do we have to do?”
“And with this kiss, I may pronounce you husband and wife”, the priest says and howls. The rest of the pack follows. Everyone, except Jungkook’s father who is staring holes into you darkly. It is custom for werewolves to howl for a newly bonded couple. It is meant to bring luck and happiness into the marriage. Having the pack alpha refuse this ritual is not a good sign.
You gulp down the heavy lump in your throat, shifting your nervous eyes to Jungkook. He seems nervous too, clasping your clammy hands. He closes the distance. Thankfully the howls are loud enough to mask your voices.
“He isn’t-”
“I know. Ignore him. He’s a stubborn idiot.” Jungkook cups your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”
You hesitate, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen in your lungs. His father isn’t howling. What if Jungkook doesn’t want this bond either? If you knew that your night with him would end in marriage, maybe you wouldn’t have said yes to him. He wants to kiss you, doesn’t he? His eyes are studying your lips. You want to kiss him too, but it is so scary to go for it. What if he doesn’t want this bond? You hesitate and hesitate. As a matter of fact, you hesitate long enough for the howls to die down.
Heavy, thick silence follows. The pack stares. The priest stares. Jungkook’s father stares. Jungkook himself stares.
“Hey uhm, this is the part where you kiss me”, he whispers.
“I know”, you whisper back.
The priest clears his throat. Jungkook licks his lips nervously, still waiting for your consent. Someone in the audience coughs.
If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would lead to having to bond with him, perhaps you never would have agreed. He promised you that you would just have to pretend, that you wouldn’t have to be with him if you didn’t want to and yet here you are. You are now officially his mate. Well, not until you kissed him. You really want to kiss him, but it’s so scary.
“You have to kiss for the bond to be sealed”, the priest whispers as well.
You glance at the audience. Your family seems nervous. Jungkook’s father seems hopeful but also very angry. You look at Jungkook, whose eyes have darkened slightly.
“It seems that the bond is invali-”, the priest tries to announce loudly, but before he can finish his sentence, Jungkook silences him by pulling you into the kiss.
You gasp, eyes wide open and body frozen. His big hand is on the back of your head, keeping you close. The priest sees it as a sign and begins the howling again. It fills the wedding house, almost sounding like melodies of joy. But you feel sick to the stomach. You are mated for life. Jungkook made sure of it and you made sure of how your marriage will be because you hesitated. You can see it in his eyes once he pulls back and they are as cold as ice. Holy fuck, you messed up.
The iciness of his stare continues long into the festivities. It is the duty of the newly bonded couple to open the dance floor with a dance. You and Jungkook have to wait behind a curtain to be called to the floor. You arrive a little later than him because your mother wanted to talk to you before that. Something about being a good mate to him. You didn’t really listen because she pissed you off.
Jungkook sends you an icy glare, tonguing his cheek.
“You”, you stomp to him. Your mother made you angry enough that you feel the need to take it out on him.
He watches you with a cocked up brow. You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge, but stares with widened eyes.
“How dare you force the kiss onto me like this. You took away my choice”, you hiss.
“Tch.”
“Don’t tch me. You said that it was my choice. You forced me.”
He tenses his jaw, looking anywhere but you. You shove him again with no chance of moving him.
“Did you hear me?”
“I don’t know if you already forgot the five prior conversations we had, but if we didn’t bond today, my dad would have banished us both. I made sure that this wouldn’t happen”, he answers you snappishly.
“This still doesn’t give you the right to kiss me like this”, you throw back, shoving at his chest.
He doesn’t budge, taking your hands to stop you from shoving him again. His grip is strong and possessive, but doesn’t hurt.
“The priest was gonna renounce our bond. I had to act fast”, he hisses.
“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be forced into it.”
“I know that by now”, Jungkook spits and swipes your hands away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest so tightly it looks as if he is trying to hug himself.
“I want an apology for it”, you insist.
“I’m sorry.”
You falter for a moment, not having expected it.
“I’m sorry, okay? Just. Drop it now, please.”
“Drop it? Excuse me?”
Jungkook turns his head away.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
No eye contact.
“Jungkook?”
“I’m done talking to you”, he grumbles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you hurt me.”
You gawk at him, holding your breath. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with such urgency it feels as if he is trying to drown you in the connection.
“All this talk about not wanting me to hold back. You told me not to stop telling you that you’re mine. Was it just empty talk?” he asks.
His heartbroken scent makes you feel heavy in your chest.
“What? I, I don’t- what?” you stutter.
“Did it ever mean something to you?”
“Kook, I-”
“Don’t call me that”, he hisses and steps closer. The thing is, however, that you don’t feel the instinctive need to step back. He doesn’t feel dangerous to you. Not because he isn’t scary, because he definitely is, but because you know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt you. “Don’t call me that after what you did today.”
You gulp. He puts his hand over his heart, eyes showing how hurt he feels. His voice quivers as he speaks.
“You made me have my first knot ever. You, you made me feel so good that I bit you. You had your first knotting orgasm through me. I was fucking alive inside you”, he say and puts his other hand on your stomach where you once allowed him to feel himself in you.
You gasp and tense at the touch, putting your hand over his’. His touch seeps into you, reminding you how it was to carry his warmth inside you. Everything inside you wants him within the first touch. The connection is so intense that you draw closer to him instinctively.
“I thought that it meant something to you too. So why did you hesitate?” he stresses, eyes racing between yours.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Jungkook pulls his hand away from your stomach. “Wow, okay.”
“Kook, please.”
“Forget it. Let’s just get it over with”, he hisses and a second later, the curtains open and you have to pretend to be a happy couple.
He takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor while howls and claps cheer you on. He positions you and him in the middle of the dance floor, looking down at you with a tightened face.
The music starts. So does the dance.
Jungkook leads it, you follow. He holds you so close. He looks so deeply into your eyes. To anyone else it must seem as if he can’t get enough of his wife, but you are close enough to him that you know his true feelings. He wants this stupid dance to end as quickly as possible.
You can’t bear to look up at him any longer, lowering your eyes.
“Don’t. Look up.”
You obey instinctively.
“You’ve already fucked up the kiss, don’t fuck up the dance as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s already a little too late for that, isn’t it?” he says and leans you back as part of the dance. For just a second you see the world upside down before he lifts you again, holding you against his chest as he twirls over the dance floor with you. It makes your dress dance with you and blurs the world around you. He furrows his brows.
“Did it ever mean anything to you?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes or no? It’s a simple answer.”
“I was desperate and I-”
“Wow.”
“I, I just meant that I don’t know if it meant what it meant to you.”
“Stop talking, seriously.”
You gulp. Jungkook looks away.
“You have to look at me”, you whisper panickedly.
“Don’t worry, the dance is already fucked”, Jungkook says and coincidentally enough, the music switches just this moment. The rest of the pack fills the dance floor, but you barely notice them.
Jungkook steps back and leaves you in the middle of the dance floor. Your chest feels tight. You didn’t want it to come to this. Of course it meant something to you, but he cornered you right now and you tend to say the wrong things under pressure. You didn’t want to give him a dishonest answer, but didn’t have the full answer ready yet. Oh god, this isn’t what you wanted to happen.
Sudden fear fills you. You know instantly that his father is next to you. You force yourself to look at him, holding your breath.
“Ruin this bond, you and your family can look for a new pack. Understood?”
You nod your head fearfully.
“Speak up!”
“Yes! Understood!”
“That’s better. Fucking, bratty omega. Just because my son can’t keep his dick in his pants. I’ll teach him how to discipline you, be sure of that”, he says with a deadly glare and turns his back to you, leaving you in the middle of the dance floor.
You bite back tears.
Alcohol. You need to forget this night. Yes, that’s the solution.
Werewolf bonding parties aren’t that different from human wedding parties. There is good music, delicious food, lots of dancing and even more laughter. There is also, of course, the occasional friendly fighting between two wolves, which may seem scary to a human but is perfectly normal to your species. There is even a saying that if a bonding party doesn’t have friendly fighting, the bond will not last. A part of you had hoped that your party would be such a party just so it wouldn’t be you who ruins the marriage and therefore has to carry the alpha’s wrath. But your wish wasn’t granted the moment you watched Yoongi and Hoseok start a friendly wrestling march next to the margaritas bar.
Speaking of margaritas, you are drunk on them by now. Way too drunk, barely able to stand on two feet.
“Fuck, I need air”, you get out and turn to leave. You run your eyes over the crowd. Your family is by their table, your brother follows you with his eyes. You must be way too drunk because for a second it felt as if he was hunting you with them. You break contact, spotting Jungkook next. He is talking to one of the betas, Seokjin. He also seems terribly drunk. You look away quickly, stumbling past him on your way outside. He follows you with his eyes as you do, but you are too drunk to notice.
The night is cold. A welcome change to the stuffy air inside. Tonight is a new moon. You look up at the moonless sky. Weddings under a new moon mean that they will last long. That’s what the legends say. The new life together starts with the new cycle of the moon. First the fighting, now this. Your marriage seriously wants to last, doesn’t it?
You stumble to a quiet corner, resting against the wall. The music is blurred behind a veil of alcohol and the thick walls of the venue.
The thing is, it’s not that you had to bond with Jungkook which upsets you so much. It is the fact that it had to happen under such circumstances. You are sure that if he didn’t have to mark you in order to save your life, he would have never even thought about taking you as a mate. You know how his family thinks. A wolf with the alpha gen should mate with another wolf with the alpha gen. Bonding with an omega isn’t a thing in Jungkook’s family. And this is what scares you. You are an omega in a family of alphas and his father seems to fucking hate it. What if Jungkook hates it too? He talked about keeping you safe and not wanting to let you go, but he probably didn’t think that he would have to mate with you. He was probably high on his afterglow and talked without thinking.
“Urgh”, you let out, grinding your fangs.
But then, why was he so upset that you hesitated? Was it because he wanted to own you as quickly as possible? But he smelled heartbroken. Someone who is merely upset about not owning you wouldn’t smell like this. This is confusing you so much.
“Who knew that you would be married before me.”
You turn your head to your brother. You must be really drunk because his eyes still seem so different.
“It’s crazy to imagine that you came back and got bonded”, he says.
“Only because you fucked up and I almost had to die for it. Otherwise, Jungkook would have never had to step in and I would have never had to bond with him”, you throw back.
Your brother studies you with furrowed brows.
“Look, I said that I’m sorry and I am. It was an accident. I thought that she was a deer.”
“Tch, sure. I know you were into her. I watched you sneak away sometimes to see her. You got jealous and decided to kill her because you couldn’t bear the thought that she was to be with someone else. Admit it”, you challenge him because you know that it was bullshit. Your brother would never kill someone out of jealousy.
Something changes in your brother’s face, however. Your brother disappears, the face of an ice cold killer stares back at you. The face of a killer who killed before and who would do it again. He steps closer and you instinctively step back. Fear and the desire to flee overcomes you. It is difficult however when he has you cornered. It is a dark corner and there are no people around.
“What, what are you doing? You, you are scary”, you stutter.
“You know, you were never supposed to come back.”
“What?”
“If I were you, I’d be careful with your words from now on”, he warns, dragging the back of his hand down your face, “are we understood, sister?”
You whimper instinctively, avoiding his eyes. His touch feels like sandpaper on your skin. He comes closer. You are so scared.
“Are we under-”, he stumbles back as a strong hand tugs him away from you. It is so rough in fact that he squeaks against his will.
“Do we have a problem here?” Jungkook growls, stepping between you and your brother. He is huffing his air, torso stretching the fabric of his suit because his protectiveness is making his body grow. Your brother tries to take a step closer, but instantly stops with just one deep growl of Jungkook.
Your brother looks at you for a brief moment. The person you once knew is gone from his eyes.
“I was already leaving”, he presses out and turns his back to leave. He knows better than to pick a fight with Jungkook. He gets as far as one step before the latter pulls him back.
He tries to fight him in reaction, but gives up quickly when Jungkook renders him useless with a strong grip on his chin. His claws dimple his skin, threatening to break through. He is towering over your brother by now.
“You are the one who is going to start picking his words carefully from now on. She is under my protection now. Is that clear?”
“Is this supposed to scare me?”
“Don’t test me.” Jungkook hisses, shaking him by his chin. “I’ll let you go tonight because you’re her brother and I don’t wanna break her heart, but you threaten her again and you’re dead. Are we understood?” he snarls his words, eyes dangerously golden and sharp fangs on full display.
“Yes”, your brother croaks out.
“Speak up!” Jungkook barks, shaking him.
“Yes! I’m sorry, yes!”
“Good. Now leave, you’re ruining my wife’s mood”, Jungkook growls and pushes him away.
The man, who was once your brother, stumbles back and runs off with his tail tucked between his legs.
Jungkook stares him down until he truly left and only then, he turns to you. He puts his hands on your upper arms, touching you so gently one might never know how roughly he handled your brother seconds ago. His features are clouded over with worry. His body is smaller again and his muscles shrunk back to their relaxed size.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, studying you worriedly.
You shake your head, gasping for air in small, helpless breaths.
“Hey, sshhh you’re okay now. You’re okay”, he says, hugging you against his chest. One hand is on your back, the other on the back of your head. The calming scent of him engulfs you, masking your own frightened scent.
“People need to stop threatening me tonight”, you get out, sobbing into him.
“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay”, he keeps repeating the words, placing little kisses all over the crown of your head.
The fight of earlier feels far away to both of you. Especially to him.
It wasn’t long after you stumbled past him, that he followed you outside. At first he followed you with the intent of confronting you again, but then he saw that you were talking to your brother and he stayed back. Because of his heightened senses, he heard everything of your conversation with him. He also smelled your fear even before hearing your whimper and it drove up his desire to protect you to such levels that he has to tremble now that he finally holds you safe and sound.
“You’re okay. I’m here now. I’m here.”
You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes.
“This wasn’t my brother anymore.”
“I know, I’m sorry”, he says, wiping your tears.
“He murdered her. Kook, he is a murderer.”
“I heard everything. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”
“He looked at me as if he wanted to kill me too.”
“I wouldn’t have let him. He’d have been dead if he tried.”
“Kook”, you get out and hide away in his chest.
You smell so sad and heartbroken and scared. Jungkook feels parts of his body cramp from how much he trembles. He wants to protect you more than he already does. It is driving him insane that he can’t do more for you.
“Jungkook, I wanna go home but I don’t…” Your sad scent reaches its peak as tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t even know where that is anymore”, you press out and sob.
“Hey no, don’t cry. I’ll take you home”, Jungkook says and puts his arm around you to lead you away from the venue. You let your head fall against him, crying loudly because everything is just a lot for you.
“Do we have to tell anyone? Can we just leave? What if they ask questions? I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t-”
“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. We’re the bridal couple, they’ll just have to accept the fact that we left early.”
You nod your head in understanding. You are so glad that he took control right now. You would have been lost and overwhelmed without him.
You walk home side by side. It happens for comfort reasons that, after a while, you and he stop hugging so close. You are in nothing but your dress and he is in nothing but his suit. The streets are empty and quiet because the entire pack is currently at your wedding party.
You already walked long enough that you managed to calm down from the initial shock. It is an unspoken truth between you and him that you don’t want to talk about what happened. This means, however, that your walk is silent and that feels really awkward.
The town you grew up in hasn’t changed much ever since you were a child. The same trees still grow along the same streets, except that they are a lot taller these days. The same houses are still home to the same people and bonding nights are still held in the town’s sports hall.
Said sports hall is still close to the playground and the way home still leads through it.
You and Jungkook slow down as you walk down a metaphorical memory lane. You scraped your knee on the slide when you were eight and he had to blow on it to make it better. Jungkook sprained his ankle jumping off the swing when he was nine and you had to hold his hand as his mother rubbed it better again. Under the weeping willow, you and your friends played the silly little dares and you had your first kiss with him.
You look away from the tree, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. He looked at it as well. You turn your head away, feeling your throat tighten in panic. Jungkook feels his heart twist in reaction. The better voice in him says not to dwell on it, the love drunk idiot in him tells him to fight for it. He wins in the end.
“Wanna sit on the swings?” he suggests.
“And do what?”
“I don’t know. Swing? Sober up a little?”
You contemplate for a second, nodding your head in the end.
You weren’t even aware of how much you needed to sit until you are on the swing, stretching out your legs. You hate heels. They’re the worst shoes ever invented. You swing back and forth slowly, Jungkook does the same. This is still the same swing set you and he played on twenty years ago. The chains still leave this weird metallic smell on your hands and the rusty hinges seem to creak even more these days. You look up at the sky. The stars are so clear without the moon hiding them in her shine. You know this view all too well. In your left vision there are some branches of a maple tree and in the right a electrical pole is peaking at you. The view is familiar to you because twenty years ago, you and Jungkook sat at the same swing in the same order like you do today.
You dare to glance at him. He is looking at the sky, unaware of your eyes on him. His face is relaxed, his lips slightly parted in awe of the vast universe. His eyes are the darkest brown right now, reflecting the stars. The street lights behind him illuminate the edges of his silhouette, glimmering in parts of his dark hair as well. He is so beautiful when he thinks that no one is looking.
To think that you subconsciously chose the same swing even after all these years. He broke your heart like this fifteen years ago and now you are back, bonded. Your heart feels heavy. You shouldn’t have hesitated. You don’t know how Jungkook feels about this bond, but you get a feeling that you shouldn’t have hesitated.
A gust of wind sweeps through the playground and makes you shiver. Your teeth clatter and you wrap your arms around yourself to rub your freezing skin. He looks at you, studying you.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
“It’s fine. I just wasn’t planning on being outside for so long. I only wanted to catch some air for a bit. I’m kinda drunk.”
Jungkook stands up from his swing.
You watch him, confused.
He shrugs off his suit jacket and closes the distance to put it over your shoulders. It is warmed up from him, instantly stilling your shivers. It also smells like him, making you just a little droopy. He hovers his hands over your shoulders because he doesn’t know if you want his touch, talking in a soft voice.
“Is this better?”
“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, feeling your heart race.
“Good. Keep it. I’m too hot anyway”, he says and leaves your side to sit down next to you.
He swings back and forth gently, watching some leaves dance on the ground as the wind carries them. Now is the perfect opportunity to talk, but he feels mute. He doesn’t want to fuck it up. Or perhaps he just doesn’t want to get hurt again.
He dances his eyes over the playground, reminiscing on all the memories he shares with you here. You and he could have been so right and then his father fucked him up. Jungkook forces down the heavy lump in his throat.
“What’s wrong?”
He looks at you with widened eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m an omega. I can smell when people around me are upset.”
“Ah. I don’t know. I guess, just thinking of old stuff”, he says and rubs the side of his neck.
“Yeah. Lots of memories here”, you say and sigh.
Jungkook sees it as his cue to ask you what he had planned to ask you before he witnessed you with your brother instead.
“Why did you hesitate?”
You almost fall off the swing in shock. Jungkook takes your hand, providing you with support. He feels vast of air when you instinctively squeeze him back and intertwine your fingers deeper. There they are again. Those mixed signals. You say one thing, but do the other. You do another thing, but say the complete opposite. Jungkook can barely take the confusion anymore, repeating his question again.
“I get it that you were nervous, but it looked like you didn’t want to kiss me at all. Why?”
“I just…”, you pull your hand back, swinging gently to soothe yourself.
Jungkook swings as well, looking at you.
“All of this is a lot for me. I went from a normal woman to a sex slave by a snatch to an omega marked, to a wife in the span of two weeks. This is a lot to work through.”
“Yeah, when you put it like this, it really is.”
“I didn’t think that our little stunt in the shed would lead to this.”
“Yeah honestly, neither did I. I thought that they would want us to date for a little and that’s it.”
“Yeah”, you agree and glance at him. “I’m scared that you are only doing this because your dad forced you. That’s why I hesitated. I saw the way he looked at me.”
“Don’t think about him. He is old and unhappy. He didn’t force me. Not when I…I dreamt of having you as my wife ever since I’ve known you.”
“What?”
You stop swinging. Jungkook stops as well, turning with the swing to face you.
“I think that’s why I kissed you. The priest wanted to announce that it’s invalid and I panicked and went in. I just needed to know that this wouldn’t be lost forever.”
“Oh my god, you dreamed of bonding with me?” you press out, eyes full of emotions.
“Ever since I’ve known you. Well, you know, ever since I knew what bonding meant. I always wanted it to be with you.”
“Kook…”
He rests his head against the metal chain, reaching his hands out for you. You turn with your swing and take his hands, feeling your pulse in your neck because of how high he raises it. His thumbs draw hearts on your skin, his eyes are so soft.
“Yeah, I guess it’s out there now”, he says, laughing softly.
“It is”, you whisper and squeeze his hands.
Jungkook squeezes them right back, smiling with his eyes before it washes over his lips as well.
“I can’t believe you’re telling me this on the same swing set you best friend broke up with me when we were twelve.”
He laughs, lifting his brows for it. It’s such a cute laugh, making you laugh with him.
“Correction, where I was forced to best friend break up with you ‘cause my dad is a control freak.”
“Right. I’m sorry that your dad sucks.”
"Yeah, I guess I got used to it. He’s my dad, that’s how he is.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Thanks.” Jungkook says and lets go of your hands to twirl back to the front. He takes a deep breath and stands up.
“Where are you going?”
“If I remember correctly, you always loved the swing the most.”
“I did, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
He walks behind you and puts his hands on the chain of the swing.
“Hold on tight.”
“Huh? Oh!”
He pushes you, making you swing back and forth. You squeal, having to laugh afterwards. Jungkook snickers with you, pushing you a second time to make you swing higher. Your shared laughter dances through the playground and in this short moment in life’s series of moments, you and he feel like kids again. There are no responsibilities lingering in the back of your heads, no fears of the future, no stresses of past days nor dreams ruined by reality. You and he are twelve again, using the swings after a long day of playing adventurers in the forests. The stars shine brighter and the wind doesn’t feel that cold anymore. You are alive again, flying to the very stars with each push Jungkook gives you.
“Not too high please, I’ll get scared”, you squeal, feeling tears of laughter run down your cheeks.
“Don’t worry, I won’t push you too high. I never did, remember?”
You and he talk as he continues to push you on the swing.
“If I remember correctly, you sometimes pushed me way too high because you were a gremlin like that.”
“A gremlin? Wow, okay”, he laughs and pushes you extra hard as playful revenge.
“Hey! No, it’s too high!” you squeak, laughing way too much.
Jungkook does it again.
“Kook please! I’m gonna fall, ah!”
And it happens. Your drunk ass falls off the swing. You squeal, preparing for impact which never comes. Instead he catches you in his strong arms, looking down at you with protective, caring eyes.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, watching his lips move. You giggle, dropping your head on his shoulder, “fuck, I’m too clumsy for this.”
“Hah, yeah.”
Jungkook noticed that you looked at his lips. For just a second, he wanted to kiss you. In the end, he didn’t. He won’t ever kiss you again without your consent.
He sets you down gently, holding both your hands against his chest. You look up at him, feeling a little robbed of air. His eyes race between yours as if he trying to build connection between your souls with just one look.
“I promise to be a good husband to you. No harm shall ever come to you through my hands and if I should ever break this promise, it is your right to strike me down. You have my body as protection and my heart to find a home in, ___. You always have and you always will.”
“You keep saying that. Does it mean..?”
“It does. It means that I love you and that I’ll do anything to make you happy.” He exhales shakily. “I know that you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry again that I kissed you. Please, can you forgive-”
You put your finger on his lips, silencing him. He whimpers a little because of it.
“Can I say something now? Please?”
“Of course”, he says and steps back, fumbling with his own hands nervously.
“I’m not mad at you anymore that you kissed me. I, I was planning to kiss you, I was. I just, I saw your dad and he wasn’t howling and then I thought that we’re only in this situation because you had to save me. And I panicked and I was scared that we’d regret it and yeah.”
He nods his head in understanding, lowering his eyes sadly. You take his hand.
“It meant something to me too.”
He meets your emotional eyes, feeling emotional himself.
“It meant something to me, maybe not the same as it did to you but it did mean something to me. I wanted to tell you this, but didn’t know how. I get nervous when I’m cornered and I forget my words and then say dumb stuff.”
“I get it. I’m sorry that I cornered you. I guess I have the tendency to be pushy when I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have cornered you, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah well, I should have said something. I liked what we did in the shed and it meant something to me.” You put his hand on your stomach. “You were alive inside me and it was the best feeling I ever experienced.”
Jungkook sighs your name, instinctively drawing closer to you.
“But we also barely know each other as adults. What if we realize that we’re not right as mates once we get to know each other?”
“I don’t think that will happen. I’m still the same than I was before, just older.”
“You’re an alpha these days.”
“I am and I’ll use this status to provide for you and to keep you safe. I promise.”
“Really?” you whisper, looking up at him with those same puppy eyes you had in the shed.
Jungkook feels weak in the knees. Those eyes are lethal to him.
“Yes, really. All I want is someone to provide for, someone to care for and protect. And for that someone to be you. I just. I wanna keep you safe, ___”, he says.
“Oh”, you let out and exhales shakily.
“Mhm, yeah”, he breathes and brushes the back of his fingers down your temple.
“But”, you begin.
“Yes?”
“But not too much. I don’t want you to get hurt”, you say and trace his upper lip. The cut healed by now, but the memory of how it looked is still in your mind. Jungkook chases your touch, closing his fingers around your wrists. He holds you tenderly, tracing the spots most sensitive with his thumbs.
“Alright, not too much”, he whispers, smiling softly.
You share silence, looking at the other. Jungkook is the one to break it.
“We’ll get to know each other again and it’s gonna be nice. I want to make this work”, he whispers.
“I wanna make it work too. Not for the sake of my safety or anything, but because I wanna love you too.”
“You do?”
You nod your head.
Jungkook exhales shakily, closing the distance for a kiss. He stops just a breath away.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks.
You give him your answer by erasing the remaining distance, connecting your lips with his’. His knees buckle, his arms instantly fall around you to hold you close. The world around you seems non-existent as your lips are lost in the kind of kiss a bonded couple should exchange. It is epic. Jungkook feels so alive. He knows that if he tried hard enough, he could touch the stars.
You feel the same. This kiss is your reminder that whatever you and he have is out of your control. It is a bond made by fate, formed under a new moon. This is how you felt in the shed when he was alive inside you.
Those feelings are heightened because of the alcohol, forcing you closer to him. Which makes him lose control for just a second, ending in you pressed up against the swing set post and with his hand on your lower back.
It knocks out a soft moan from you. Jungkook answers it in a deep purr, sliding his right hand to your cheek to tilt your head higher. He sucks on your lower lip, ending it with a gentle bite.
The effect is instant for you. Slick begins to gather between your legs, your head gets droopy and everything inside you screams at you to give yourself to him.
Breathing shakily, you break the kiss. He stays close, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.
“Oh my god”, you whisper, tracing your own lips. They’re tingling from what he did.
“Yeah. Right?” he agrees, scrunching his nose and stubbing your temple with his forehead in a gesture of adoration. “Who’d have known that we’d kiss like this here”, he says, gazing at you.
Your eyes soften in submission. Jungkook feels drawn to you beyond repair.
“Keep looking at me with those eyes and we won’t reach home tonight”, he rasps, touching your waist as he basically undresses you with his eyes. “I’d take you right here and now. Make you feel so good that you see new constellations.”
Drunk you cannot handle talk like this, breaking into giddy giggles and hiding away in his chest.
“Are you laughing at me?” he gasps.
“No, oh god no. It’s just, nobody ever talked to me like this before”, you explain yourself between giggles, nuzzling closer.
Jungkook chuckles, rubbing your back.
“Get used to it. I realised that I’m kinda outta control when it comes to you. Maybe it’s the alpha gen.”
“Maybe”, you look up at him with pretty puppy eyes, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting against his chest.
He stubs your nose with his own, hands groping your butt possessively.
“Stop looking at me.”
“It’s hard. When you touch me, I also lose control. I think it’s the omega gen.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just a lightweight.”
“Hah! So you’re saying I’m just drunk?”
“Basically, yeah.”
You snicker, Jungkook grins.
“Come on, let’s go home before I actually do something indecent to you.”
You gladly let him hold your hand now that his kiss triggered your affectionate instincts, following him in happy steps.
Your walk home ends at Jungkook’s house. Two stories high and with a big garden surrounding it, it was one of the more luxurious houses in town.
“This is where we’ll live?”
“If you want to. I figured, you know, given how you still live with your parents and I’m living alone, we could use my place. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Yes? Great then we can get your stuff in the coming days. But for now, let me do this right”, he says and swoops you off your feet.
“Ah”, you let out, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you over the threshold. Why?”
“Nothing, it’s so”, you stop talking to giggle instead, nuzzling your nose against his cheek. “It’s so cheesy.”
Jungkook chuckles, heart racing in his chest. He kicks the door closed behind him and does a twirl in the middle of his hallway.
“Wait! I’m too drunk for this! Eeek”, you squeak, hiding away in his neck. “Please stop, I’m too dizzy.”
Luckily for you, Jungkook listens. He stops and sets you down, holding you close as you sway.
“This wasn’t funny. Oh god, I’m dizzy”, you laugh, dropping your forehead against his chest. He rests his cheek against your head, talking in a chuckle.
“See? Told you. Total lightweight.”
“I’m not a lightweight. You’re just a gremlin”, you say and shove at his chest. He laughs, holding your hands.
“You’re adorable. Come, dance with me”, he says, placing your left hand on his neck and holding the other.
“Dance? Right now?”
“Yeah. Just you and I. We’ll do it right this time.”
“But I’m dizzy.” You step on his foot, making him groan. “And I have two left feet when drunk. Sorry, are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I’m more than okay”, he says, smiling at you as your bodies move to silent melodies.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, baby. Just look at me”, he whispers, right hand on your lower back. It is so warm.
You look up at him. The pull is magnetic and fucking electric. You are so attracted to him. He has you feeling drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. You are so fuzzy inside because of all the laughing you have been doing.
“You have the most beautiful eyes ever”, Jungkook whispers, raising your pulse with it.
“Kook, I”, you begin, eyes flitting to his lips. Merely seeing the shape of them is enough to reignite the flames in your stomach. Dancing becomes a little harder now that you are so excited.
“What’s the matter?” he whispers.
“It’s embarrassing”, you confess with a heated face.
“Tell me.”
“No, it’s so stupid. I don’t even wanna do it but it just happens.”
He guides his touch from your lower back to your waist. Gentle and loving but insanely possessive at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”
You hesitate.
“Promise.”
“I’m, uh, there is slick.”
Jungkook draws closer, making you chase his kiss.
“Shit. There is?”
“Yeah”, you whimper.
He lowers his eyes, making you taste the idea of his kiss. It makes you so desperate for him.
“Is this normal for you or….”
You shake your head, “it never happened before. Not like this. Or that easily. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I can’t stop it.”
“Holy fuck. Baby.”
“It’s so stupid.”
“No, it’s not. Just kiss me.”
You kiss him. At least you try to because before your lips can touch, you step on his toes again. Vigorously.
“Ouch, hey”, he gasps, flinching back.
“Sorry! Oh my god, sorry. Are you okay?"
“Ah fuck”, he laughs, “yeah, I’m okay. You’re a terrible dancer.”
“Hey”, you pout.
He chuckles and pecks your cheek.
“I want to show you one thing before we make it official”, he says.
“Show me, please.”
“Follow me. You can leave your shoes by the door.”
Jungkook’s home is somehow exactly how you imagined it to be. It is neat and tidy, but doesn’t really have a lot of character. The rooms are spacious with little furniture filling them. The furniture is modern and there are barely any decorations present. It is the house of someone who doesn’t feel at home in it. The desire to make it cozy and homey for him becomes stronger and stronger within you. There are already a million ideas swarming your head.
“You’re quiet. Do you not like it here?” Jungkook asks you.
“No, it’s not that. I’m thinking.”
"About what?”
“It’s gonna sound silly.”
“Tell me.”
“I already have so many ideas on how to make it cozier here. Sorry, I know it’s your house and everything.”
Jungkook steps close and cradles your face, making you look up at him.
“And it’s your home. Make it as cozy as you want to”, he speaks softly, eyes warm and caring.
“Really?”
He nods, kissing your forehead.
“This place never felt like a home to me anyway. It can use the caring touch of an omega.”
You can’t explain how he makes you feel because you never experienced it before. The best way to describe it is cozy and safe. You want to curl up close to him and be yourself with him. This is how he makes you feel. As if you are allowed to be your truest You.
“Speaking of cozy omegas, we’re here.”
“Here where?”
“My surprise for you. I worked hard on it these past few days.”
He opens the door for you, allowing you view of one of the coziest rooms you have ever seen. It is filled with soft surfaces to lie on. A bed, a big sofa, some bean bags, a window bench. Curtains frame the window and the bed. The floor is covered in soft rugs. There are pillows to sink into on every surface and he installed fairy lights on the wall and the bed frame.
“What’s this?” you gasp.
“It’s your nest.”
You look at him. He is clearly nervous, smelling of it as well.
“I’m still new to the entire omega heat thing. I know that they’re a thing, obviously, and I know that you like to get cozy for them. I looked up nest inspirations online. It told me that you like lots of pillows and blankets and that I should make it cozy and warm. You can totally change everything in this room, of course.” He touches the side of his neck. “I just thought that I’d try to make it comfortable for you. At least maybe? I don’t know, I just wanna make it nice for you.”
Your lower lip trembles.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna make you cry. Is it that bad? I’m sorry, I suck at interior design.”
You shake your head and fall around his neck, “thank you.”
Jungkook closes his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You smell of happiness right now.
“Does this mean you like it?” he asks.
“I love it so much. I never had a nest before. I’m so happy.”
“You are?”
“Yes, so much.”
You step back, giving him a smile. Jungkook retorts it. You giggle and turn so you can hurry through the room.
Jungkook watches you, enjoying the droopy feelings in his chest. The longer you are in the room and the more details you spot, the stronger your scent of happiness gets. It almost fills up the entire room by now, making him feel so warm and complete. He feels at home in his house for the very first time.
“This is so cozy, oh my god. So soft, wow. I love this colour, holy moly. Wow. So cozy. Wow”, you gush and gasp as you inspect everything and anything.
You end up dropping into one of the beanbags, nuzzling into it as deep as possible while you purr in contentment.
Jungkook feels his knees buckle. He got you to purr. Holy fuck, he was seriously placed on this earth to treat you right.
He closes the distance between you and him, kneeling down in front of you. He comes closer, putting his weight on his elbow which he rests on the beanbag above your head. He leans down to kiss your cheek.
You stop your nuzzling, gasping quietly as his sudden closeness surprises you. You look up and can’t look away again.
“You’re the most beautiful bride I have ever seen”, he whispers, cradling your cheek with his other hand.
“Oh”, you let out, feeling dizzy.
“No wonder I had to kiss you.” He furrows his brows. “I know I shouldn’t have done this and I’m sorry.”
“I’m not angry anymore. You built me a nest”, you tear up, “Jungkook, please give me my bonding night. I want to be with you.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“So sure, please. I can’t take it anymore.” You shiver. “I keep producing slick and I’m so cold without you and, and I wanna feel that good again. Like we did in the shed. I, I wanna feel like this again. Please.”
Jungkook closes his fist on the beanbag, trying to keep himself at bay. His instincts threaten to kick in when you beg like this.
“Do you want it here?”
“Yes, please.”
“And you know what I’ll do to you? What might happen again?”
You deepen the lethalness of your puppy eyes, taking his hand to put it over your stomach. You whisper your words, turning him into puddy.
“I want to feel alive again. Together with you.”
“Holy fuck, ___”, Jungkook croaks and goes in for a kiss. He growls and stops himself. “I need you to say that you understand. Please, don’t make me do it without hearing it first.”
“Yes, Kook. I know what you’ll do to me. I need you to, please.”
“Thank you. Oh my god baby, I wanna treat you so right”, he croaks out and finally falls into the kiss. “I’ll never ever force myself onto you again. Never. Fucking never. Holy fuck, baby”, he babbles between kisses, turning you into a weak, turned on mess. “Wanna treat you so right. My baby. Mine.”
His touch is everywhere at the same time, unable to decide where to find its home. It feels so good. Each spot he touches, tingles and heats up. Whenever he changes spots, it leaves behind shivers and goosebumps before the entire process repeats itself again.
You want to keep kissing him, but soon have to stop because of his touch. You have to gasp for air, you would suffocate otherwise.
Jungkook, barely holding onto the threat of humanity by now, doesn’t see any problem in being denied your lips. He kisses a path to your neck hungrily. Your aroused smell becomes stronger and stronger the closer he gets to your scent glands. He knows how good it feels when someone kisses his scent spots and he wonders if it is the same for you.
He kisses the spot on your left side, forcing you to arch your back and gasp loudly. You instinctively grasp his back.
“Do you like this?” he rasps his words, nibbling on the sensitive spot. You smell so good. Jungkook has never felt such an obsession with another’s scent before. He needs it all over his body, melted with his skin so everyone can smell who his heart belongs to. He can’t stop kissing you, picking up more and more of your scent.
“Does this feel good?” he asks again because you were too busy gasping the first time.
“Ye-yeah”, you gasp out, staring at the ceiling in shock. Your fingers twitch and tremble on his back, claws threatening to come out and slice open his shirt.
What is happening to you? You were kissed on your neck before, but this feels different. This feels lethal, fateful, like it is changing the way you view pleasure. You have never felt so electric before and so close to losing control.
“You smell so good, I can’t get enough.”
“Wow, oh god, wow…”
Jungkook stays on your left side until he can smell your arousal on his lips. Only then, does he kiss a sloppy path to your right side. He moans when he witnesses you roll your head to the side willingly and he moans again when he goes in to worship your hard working scent spot. And it is working hard. Fucking hell, you smell like pure sex and arousal. Jungkook huffs it up hungrily, biting and licking at the delicious spot.
All while you stare and gasp and lose control over yourself. The bites feel so good. You want to squirm and moan. Your head is fuzzy, your body so weakened. What is happening? What the fuck is happening to you? You can’t stop producing more slick. You are so hot. Seriously, so fucking hot. Oh god, you can’t think anymore. Anything you can think is how much you need him to fuck you.
“Seriously, fuck”, Jungkook comes up for air, mouthing at your cheek drunkenly, “you smell so good. I feel high.”
“I wanna be naked”, you croak out, arching your back. You don’t have many thoughts except desire and sex. Being naked is all you crave right now. If you’re naked, Jungkook can potentially bite more parts of you. This is the logic of your fuzzy mind and it is driving you crazy that it isn’t your reality yet.
“Sit up then and let me open your dress.”
You obey gladly, almost dry heaving in desire. Jungkook reaches behind you and opens your dress. He wanted to pull it off slowly to make the moment romantic, but you shrug it off quickly for him.
He meets your eyes. They are golden and clouded in desire.
“Are you okay with this?” he asks.
“Why not?”
“I never saw you naked before.”
“Oh.” A little clarity returns to your eyes. “Right.”
He can smell hints of coyness in your scent. And a little bit of nervousness.
“Wrap your arms around me.”
You obey his order and like this, Jungkook is able to lift you out of your dress and carry you to bed. He lays you down carefully, straddling your lap without sitting down.
You are below him in nothing but your underwear, feeling small and fragile, but so safe.
“Do you wanna take it slower?” he suggests.
“No, just nervous that’s all.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. We can slow down whenever you need to.”
“Okay”, you whisper and make puppy eyes at him, “can you, uhm, can you bite me more?”
“Yes. Wow this is…hah. Of course”, he lets out, “first, let me match you.”
He is getting undressed. First his tie, then he opens his buttons. His shirt leaves him first, next his belt and last his slacks. He stays in his briefs, heavy cock straining the fabric as much as he soaks it.
Now sharing in your state of undress, he leans down, taking your hands to pin them gently. He kisses you, blurring your thoughts into one big mess of arousal and safety. His thumbs caress your hands as he kisses you. Your scent is on his face, forcing even more slick to run out of you. Any sort of nervousness you felt is getting wiped out with each new kiss you share. He tastes so goddamn good. His lips are soft and the piercings on them are so exciting to feel.
The kiss breaks when air is sparse. Jungkook stays close to paint paths of worship down your body. He bites the softest spots and sucks marks of ownership on the firmer spots. And you are in heaven, wishing for him to never stop. Such heavenly feelings are unfamiliar to you. You had people mark you before, but it didn’t feel like this. With Jungkook, you need him to continue. You need to know that every single inch of you is marked by him in one way or the other. Whether it be a bite mark, a kiss spot or his scent, you need it on your body and each time he gives it to you, you leak more slick. It is out of your control, unfamiliar and amazing. So amazing.
Jungkook is lingering over your sternum right now, hot breath tickling your skin. His strong hands are holding you under your armpits, reminding you that you were owned by the safest lover.
“I know it’s difficult for you, but please stop me if I go too fast. I can’t stop myself once I let go, so I need you to yell it at me.”
“Please. Don’t stop. Please, you feel so good”, you sigh, writhing.
“Wow, I….fuck, I want you”, he rasps, having to kiss every inch of you. “I want you. I want you so bad.”
“Ah…please…don’t stop…”
Jungkook reaches your breasts. They are swollen and plumb from arousal. They aren’t always like this. When you are feeling normal, they also look and feel normal. They are how breasts are supposed to be, sagging from gravity and soft when lying down. Not right now. They stay in place. They are a little bigger, plumber and hot to the touch. They also smell like your arousal. Even through the fabric of your bra. It is so much sweeter and richer than it was on your neck. Jungkook moans like a druggy having found his drug, going in for a taste with an open mouth and way too much tongue.
“Ah”, you whimper, following it up with a submissive mewl. You are losing control again and it feels so good. Why does everything he does feel so good? It is as if you are a virgin being touched for the very first time, which is insane because you definitely aren’t.
“Your skin’s so soft and warm. I can’t get enough of you”, he mumbles between his hungry kisses, turning you into puddy. You lost sense of how much more you can still take before you burst.
His masculine, possessive hands hold your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh desperately. His spit soaks the fabric of your bra, leaving behind spots of coldness whenever he moves on to a new spot.
It happens again. You experience sensations you have never felt before. People played with your tits before, you played with them as well but it never felt like this. It never felt so otherworldly. They are so swollen. You can’t breathe because there is so much pressure building up behind your nipples. You throw your hand over your mouth to muffle the overwhelmed sob, twisting the sheets with your other hand. It hurts. The pressure really hurts not to be taken care of.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to hear your panicked whimper because he doesn’t slow down in his feast.
“Your scent, I’m so high. It’s insane, holy fuck, so good…”
It gets too much for you. The pressure hurts so much. You’re scared. What is happening to you?
Jungkook squeezes your breasts and bites down gently. The pressure bursts. You wail, arching your back as warmth trickles out of your nipples, soaking your bra.
The sweet scent of it hits his nose instantly. He tenses up and shudders, cock threatening to burst through his briefs.
“What the-”
Jungkook’s instincts tell him to rip your bra off and lick up the sweet scent, but he forces himself to be stronger than them. It is you who lies below him in such a vulnerable state. If he took advantage of that, he would never forgive himself.
“Jungkook, help me. Please. I’m scared”, you beg him in a quivering voice.
“Try to focus on me. Focus baby, right here”, he tells you, cradling your cheeks.
Your eyes search aimlessly for a moment, but soon find their home in his gaze.
“Koo”, you whimper, grabbing his wrists, “I’m scared. What is happening to me?”
“I don’t know. It never happened to me before. My instincts tell me to clean it for you, but I don’t know if you want this.”
“Please, it hurts. Just make it stop, please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please”, you sob.
“Sit up.”
You barely manage to obey. Jungkook supports you, using his other hand to open your bra and tug it off of you. He throws it to the side, helping you lie down again.
Your breasts, normally victims to gravity, stay plumb and perky as you lie down. It is yet another proof that whatever he is doing to you is working beyond comprehension.
“Holy fuck, ___, your tits”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at them in total awe. They are seriously so swollen, your nipples are so hard and they seem to keep leaking pearlescent liquid. “You’re so beautiful, but holy fuck they’re so swollen. Baby, wow.,”
“I don’t know what’s happening. They’re so… so…there’s so much pressure.”
“I can’t. Oh god.”
If only you and he knew that this is happening to you because he stimulated your scent glands. If only you knew that simulation of said glands only works this well with your true mate. You could have a hundred other men play with your tits the same way Jungkook did, but your body would never fall into such helplessness with any of them. Only he will get you to such levels of pleasure. Because it is only his mouth which is destined to taste your sweet pleasure.
You and he are unaware of this fact however, because this is still new to both of you.
“What, what do you need me to do?” He stutters, salivating.
“I don’t know. Your instincts, I don’t- ah.”
“Right.” His eyes glow golden. “My instincts”, he growls and gives in to the voices. “Stay still, I’ll take care of it.”
He picks up your tits and squeezes them together so your nipples are close to each other. He lowers his dripping mouth to them, taking in your right first but with the intention that your left will follow very soon.
His instincts tell him to stimulate your nipples with soft bites first until they are throbbing and then change to sucking them. He listens to his instincts, getting you to moan so loudly that his cock throbs painfully.
“Is this working, baby?” he asks, drooling all over your sweet nipples.
“Oh god, yeah”, you croak, arching your back. You twist the sheets, curling your toes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Koo thank you…”
“Fuuuck baby, so hot”, he drags out his words until it turns into a growl instead, loving you oh so right.
He bites and bites, licks whenever you sob and bites some more, all while his strong fingers knead your plumpness. And then it happens. You arch your back and wail up as his stimulation finally forces your breasts to tighten and throb. Liquid shoots into his mouth and down his throat. It is the sweetest taste he ever had on his tongue, intoxicating him beyond saving. Jungkook’s eyes roll back, he thinks that for a second he blacks out before he comes back to be totally guided by his instincts.
He gurgles and moans, sucking the sweet nectar from your right nipple while his fingers play with your left just to keep it ready for him. It is a messy business and whenever he changes sides, he has to lick up the mess he made before he can suck on your nipple. It is not a terrible fate. On the contrary, it’s heaven. For both. Jungkook has never felt this high before while you love his tongue on your body. He is so hot and soft, giving you the perfect contrast to the sharp bites his fangs give you.
“Kook oh god, Kook ah! Ah! A-ah!”
You spill tears, grabbing your own face to muffle yourself and make sense of what is happening to you. This is life altering. You are in a constant state of genuine orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t want to die down. You can literally feel how Jungkook sucks the liquid out of you, relieving you of the painful pressure as he does it. It helps so much, while at the same time making everything worse.
He might help you with the nectar of your breasts, but your body still keeps producing slick. And it is getting dangerously full inside you. Your panties feel like imprisonment to your cunt.
You twist a bundle of his hair, sobbing in ecstasy and desperation.
“Koo, I’m scared, it’s so good”, you sob, trembling.
Your touch motivates him. He is starving for you even though he is currently feasting on you. He seemed to have sucked you dry. No matter how much he bites and sucks, your nipples stay dry. The starvation remains. He needs more of you.
“More, give me more please”, he orders, growling his words between vigorous sucks.
“I, I can’t. Ah, Kook ah.”
“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re so sweet.”
He can’t take a break, he needs more of you. He lets your scent guide him. It gets stronger and stronger, the closer he comes to your cunt. Don’t be mistaken however, it is not your pussy which calls him, but your inner thighs. Your scent glands to be more specific. Working overtime to produce your arousing smell and begging for attention. They are the most sensitive of your scent spots, but you don’t know that yet. You had men kiss you there before, but none of them were Jungkook. None were your mate.
Jungkook shoves your legs open and buries his face in your right thigh with a growl. His fingers dimple your softness, his fangs tickle your skin. Not long and he bites you.
Your entire body reacts to it. You tense and flinch as if he shocked you, letting out a howl of surprise. Your empty cunt aches, craving nothing more than him.
Jungkook lifts his head, eyes droopy and drugged and lips still glossy from your tits.
“Is like a drug. You is like a drug”, he lulls his words and drops his face back in your thigh. Your left one for a change. He kisses and licks it, grabbing your waist possessively. He holds you with such strength that he even manages to bring it in a little, forcing you to burn in a fire you were never in before.
“I fucking want you, fucking need you, fuck can’t get enough.”
“I’m so hot, I-I’m so hot.”
“So hot, so fucking soft. Fuck, your smell drives me insane.”
“Oh god, Kook. I’m so hot.”
The thing about omegas and heats is that it isn’t as common as one might think. Before an omega has reached maturity, heats obviously aren’t a thing. Afterwards, they are manageable when living with other family members. They feel more as if you were bad mooded and grumpy. You managed to sleep them off whenever they happened.
Burning in this unfamiliar fire as Jungkook repeatedly bites your sensitive scent spots makes you realize that perhaps you have never truly experienced a real heat before. Maybe it slumbers in an omega until they are with their true mate. Maybe the grumpy days are just nature’s way of saving the omega of embarrassing moments in front of family.
You can’t explain why you know, but this is it. This is the real deal. Jungkook stimulated your sensitive glands for long enough that he forces you to go into heat. It feels different from anything you have ever experienced, it even feels different from the thing you thought to be your heat when he was with you in the shed. You were wrong back then, this is it. This is the real thing.
And it scares you so much that you beg for him. He comes up when hearing your distraught, cradling your face. He is clearly far away, seeming changed as well. The only thing having forced him away from you is his stronger instinct of keeping you safe. His dark hair is a mess, his eyes are foggy.
“What’s the matter, baby?” he lulls his words.
“I’m, I’m in heat.”
“What? It can happen like this?”
“When you bit my scent spots, it made me…oh god, please make it stop please.”
“What, uhm, what do you need?”
“You. Please fuck me. I beg you.”
“Holy fuck, I-” Jungkook stops himself, growling deeply and twisting the pillow above your head, “something’s wrong with me. I’m losing control over myself.”
“Koo”, you croak, touching his chest. He is burning up, muscles swollen and tense. His heart races like crazy, unnaturally fast at that.
“What is happening to me?” he stresses.
“I don’t know.”
If only you and he knew that his accidental efforts of forcing you into heat, forced him into his ruts with you. If only you knew that these are the effects of being with your true mate. If only you knew that the only remedy is sex. But you don’t know and so you and he are fated to stumble through the unknown, still doing the right things because your instincts are stronger than anything else. It is as if your bodies do the talking without you and him having to speak their language yet. It is most certain that you will be fluent in it one day.
“I want to rip your panties off.”
"Please do.”
Jungkook gives in and does as he wants. He rips your panties off, throwing the thin piece of fabric over his shoulder. He rips off his own briefs next, discarding the fabric. His heavy, thick cock slaps your stomach. He is so big and swollen by now that he can barely stand up despite his hardened nature. His slick pools in your navel and smears all over your skin.
“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, he drops his head in your neck, “it hurt so much to keep it in.”
“Kook, you’re so heavy.”
“I know, I’m so hard that I can’t keep it standing. I…” He lifts his head, cradling your cheek. “Say you want me.”
“I want you.”
Jungkook shifts his hips so his cock probes at your entrance. You whimper and open your legs widely, putting them around his meaty thighs.
“Just the tip”, he whispers.
“What? No”, you get out and pout.
Jungkook chuckles, cradling your cheek.
“You know, like last time.”
“Oh”, a giggle shakes you and makes your face glow.
He chuckles, soaking up the moment of honest happiness like a dried up sponge would water. Each time he hears your laugh, he falls more in love with you.
“Just the tip when it didn’t mean anything and we shouldn’t have done it.”
Your giggle changes into a sigh of his name. You gaze into his eyes, building soul consuming connection.
“Right?”
“Right.”
Jungkook allows his tip to fill you. Just enough to let you feel that he was finally there with you. You whimper, spilling tears of relief.
Jungkook wipes them, spilling his own tears. He loves you. This is it. The moment it is official that you are mates. And it happens exactly how he always dreamed it would. You under him, looking so vulnerable and safe as he can gaze into your eyes and see your face change in pleasure.
“This means everything to me”, he croaks out and buries himself inside you to the base. “Ah.” He twists the pillow.
“Oh god. Ah.”
“Too deep? Hurts?”
“No, it’s perfect. I feel, ah, I feel whole.”
Jungkook moans your name, eyes filling with emotion.
You touch his messy hair, scratching him behind his ear. Jungkook shivers, eyes threatening to roll back. You are stimulating one of his scent spots, forcing him deeper into his ruts.
“Okay. If you. Fuck. This is my scent spot. It feels. Ahm. I, I have to fuck you”, he struggles with his words, cock throbbing inside you as if it had his own pulse.
Throb. Throb. Throb.
He fills you with more of his slick each time he twitches. It tingles whenever he does.
“Please don’t hold back. Fuck me like you need to, please”, you whimper, shaking in agony. You tickle his scent spot especially good and it’s over for him.
Jungkook’s fingers slip from control. He can’t hold back anymore. He knows that you can take it.
He pulls out only to slam into you again in a deep, passionate rhythm. In and out. In and out. It is endless and harsh and feels so fucking good.
Your eyes instantly roll back and stay there. Your fingers dimple the nape of his neck as you clutch him for dear life. Jungkook himself can’t keep his eyes focused, gazing at you through a veil of blurriness.
“Is this good for you?” he gets out through gritted teeth.
“Good”, you wail, writhing in ecstasy.
“Fuck, I’m fucking high on you.”
He thought that he knew the feeling of your cunt but this is different. This actually forces him to listen to nothing but his instincts. He thought that he was out of control in the shed, but he wasn’t. This is it. You are so hot around him, so soft and you are filled with slick to the very brim. It is Jungkook’s task to fuck it out of you in heavy, strong thrusts, making a mess of your bodies and the sheets in the process. He isn’t aware of it yet but this gives you so much relief. You were bursting inside and now it is finally leaving you. There is no muscle in your body which isn’t currently puddy. Everything you exist for right now is to be fucked by him. There is no other sensation to you than that of his thick cock reshaping your insides.
“Baby, this is a lot. Holy fuck, this is argh”, Jungkook gets out, scrunching his face in anger. He wants to go deeper, but he can’t. It pisses him off, makes him want to break shit. He knows it’s this stupid position. Fucking good for nothing. Who thinks of something that unfavourable? (Jungkook will think back to this moment once he is clear in his head and wonder why he hated missionary so much.) But he hates it right now. He can’t even see himself inside you, his base is barely inside.
“More, I need more”, he growls and pulls out.
“No please, please it hurts please”, you instantly beg.
“Patient, I’m rearranging you.”
Jungkook takes your legs and guides them into a better position. You let him reshape you. This is what your body currently exists for and wants. It needs someone as strong and dominant as Jungkook to bend it to his will. Each second where he handles you feels like heaven.
He puts your legs over his shoulders.
“Hands.”
You obey, giving them to him. He puts them on your own thighs, squeezing them against the back of them.
“Hold them for me there. I want you to feel yourself shake.”
“Yes”, you whimper.
“Good omega. What a perfect thing you are”, he lulls and slides his hands to your ankles. He picks them off his shoulders and lifts them up. Like this, he opens you for him. Your butt is lifted off the sheets, your cunt instantly gushes out masses of slick.
“I can’t keep it in”, you confess.
“It’s good, baby. You don’t have to. Relax”, Jungkook assures you in a hungry whisper, eyes a deep gold and mesmerised by you. He moves his hips close and buries his heavy cock back in you.
You mewl, curling your toes. Slick drips onto the sheets as it makes space for his girthy length, you feel whole again.
“There we go, fuck”, Jungkook growls and bottoms out. He stays there for nothing but a second before he pulls out again to pick up a punishing rhythm.
It feels so good that your eyes roll back and you resort to moaning and wailing for him. Jungkook moans with you each time he is deep inside you. This finally scratches the itch. This is finally as deep as he can go. He can finally see himself inside you. Finally he can see how his thick cock reshapes your swollen cunt. He is so big and you take him so easily, moving and trembling around him as he repeatedly pounds you stupid. If you keep this up, he might get pussy drunk.
“I can’t take this. You’re so pretty. Is it good for you?”
“Yes. More, please.”
“You’re so perfect. Holy fuck”, he growls and throws your legs over his shoulders to hold your hips instead and pull you onto his cock each time he thrusts into you. You are tighter like this, jerking off his fat cock.
Your voice pitches and rises in volume. You were never fucked like this before. Your needs were never ever getting satisfied like this before. It is changing you and Jungkook makes it even better by taking your clit between his fingers to massage her. She is so swollen and big that he can jerk her off just a little, making you howl. Your hands drop from your thighs just so you can rip the sheets in your attempt to twist them.
You can’t take it. He makes you climax. It is so intense and fulfilling that your sensitive breasts leak again. You howl his name as it happens.
The scent of your sweet breasts and your pretty face sets off Jungkook.
“I have to. It happens”, he gets out and throws his head back. He moans loudly, falling victim to his orgasm. His toes curl for it, his tones stomach flinches.
And because you are currently in heat, existing for nothing but him, his seed sets you off again. It brings you back into this uncontrollable, intense state of bliss you experienced for the first time in the shed. It should be familiar to you by now, but it is not.
You cry and sob, knowing that you won’t be able to stop orgasming for as long as your body needs to.
Jungkook knots instantly, cursing so graphically that he is surprised himself.
“Baby, I can’t stop. I can’t, I’m sorry”, he chants panickedly, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you. It forces his knot to keep leaving you and then popping back inside. The stimulation is unlike anything he has ever felt before, making his toes cramp from curling them so harshly and his hips become even more violent.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it feels so good. Stop me, I can’t stop it”, he apologises because you cry so much. He wants to stop hurting you but he can’t. His hips rut against his will.
“Don’t stop please. It feels so good”, you release him of his guilt, clenching down on him as he drills his knot back into you.
“What? You’re in no pain?”
“No pain. Oh god Koo, I’m cumming again…Ah!” You have to wail, squirting around his thick knot as he buries it inside you over and over again.
“Ah! This is the best sex I ever had, oh god”, Jungkook moans, arching his back.
The knot fucking burns so deep in such a good way. You are so empty without him, the breach is so intense and once he is inside again everything is well. Your pussy sounds so wet, squelching around his knot sinfully. This is seriously the best sex he ever had.
“It’s so good, I’m so high”, he growls, following your orgasm with his own. It is so unbearable to keep moving but his hips have a mind of their own. They keep rutting and fucking even through Jungkook’s shakes. “I can’t stop this. Holy fuck, urggghh.“
If you knew that your little stunt in the shed would lead to having your guts knot fucked by none other than Jeon Jungkook, you would have agreed to this bond sooner. Yup, we have reached the point of total acceptance of your situation. Fuck that his father didn’t howl. Fuck that you only married Jungkook because you were forced to. Fuck that this wasn’t meant to happen. This right now is everything which counts. It is making this entire situation right. It was meant to happen.
“Jungkook, I can’t stop”, you sob, grabbing for him helplessly.
“I know. I can’t either”, he gets out, holding your hands and pinning them above your head. Like this he is lying himself down on you, folding your willing body in half and burying his knotted cock so deep inside you that you feel him against your cervix. In your state, lost in heat and his seed, it is the highest level of pleasure he can give you. And you thank him with loud cries and your claws digging into his hands against their will.
His own claws come out to play. He angles his hands so they wouldn’t hurt you. Like this, your hands are under his’, shaking and twitching as he brings you over one edge after the other.
“I can’t stop. Jungkook please help me”, you wail.
“You’re safe. I’m here. Baby, I’m here”, he soothes you and shakes as he manages to bury his knot in you again. You are getting tighter and tighter and his knot more and more sensitive. “Urgh, baby you’re making me- ah!”
He loses control, pumping your belly full of his hot cum. Now that he is pressed against your cervix, his seed pushes its way right past it, giving you the feeling of being alive you so dearly craved. Of course it sets you off again, of course you cry as if you never had an orgasm before and experience it for the first time. Of course it sets him off again. Of course all of this is happening. It was meant to happen. Of course it was.
And as you cry and sob in relief and bliss, Jungkook can barely stop his claws from hurting you. He grew in size and strength. Your small, fragile body is in danger of being crushed under him.
He does what he needs to do. Jungkook grips the headboard, growling like a rabid animal. You are so stretched out, so lose around his knot. And so wet. He can’t stop fucking you with his creamy knot. It feels so good to have you struggle for a second but then take him happily. It feels even better because you moan with such ecstasy each time he drills it back into you.
Jungkook growls and grips the headboard tighter. And tighter. And tighter with each heavy thrust. With each of your moans. Tighter and tighter until suddenly it cracks loudly, breaking into two right under his hand. The bed gives up, forcing you to sink a good ten centimetres.
“What?” You squeak out, looking around you disoriented.
“Doesn’t matter. Look at me”, he dismisses it, cradling your cheek tenderly. One might never know that seconds ago he broke the bed with the same hand. “Look at me, only look at me.”
You look at him and fall back into the pleasure, having to orgasm instantly at the sight of him.
You wail for him, watching with blurry eyes as he orgasms as well.
His seed hits you in the deepest parts of you. He fucked you so sensitive that you can feel his thick vein pump it out of him. His knot trembles as it happens, bringing you to your blissed limits.
“Again.”
“Me too. If you- I- me too.”
His hips freeze as he is deep inside you. Your walls tighten and force his knot to stay inside you. He can’t move. It is happening to you as his seed drugs you, his knot does the rest. You can’t stop climaxing. It is finally happening.
Jungkook whimpers helplessly, dropping your legs and collapsing into you. Your limbs close around him, his own do the same with you. He is on top of you, but gravity forces him to fall to his side and take you with him. You are stuck together, shaking and flinching as your bodies are trapped in the most addicting state of being. You orgasm which sets him off, which sets you off and so on. You should know the drill, but it doesn’t get easier to bear. You drool and sob and moan, holding each other so close that you almost melt together.
Jungkook cries out as an especially strong high hits him, writhing helplessly which ends in your position changed. He is on his back, you serve as his warmest blanket. He hugs you so strongly, knotted cock shaking inside your tight walls. You drool all over his strong chest, feeling far away because you are so close to his scent glands. He smells like sex and ecstasy but also like safety.
It feels more intense than last time. This kind of knotting orgasm isn’t just sexual, it is also emotional. You want to be close and you are and it is ecstasy. There is enlightenment that what is happening to you only happens because you are with your true mate and this enlightenment makes the orgasms only this much more intense.
The sun is starting to rise once you and he finally come down. You are fucked raw and sore by now, crying into the crook of his neck.
“Holy fuck baby, urgh. I can’t do it again. I’m cramping”, he says, “sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m sore. Kook please I’m scared.”
“Don’t be, I’m here. Baby, my love. I can’t believe we did that”, he instantly falls into a love drunk, sappy state. He hugs you so tightly, feeling up your knotted pussy gently to soothe her.
“I don’t wanna be on top, please”, you beg, shivering.
“You’re safe, princess. I’m here”, Jungkook says and changes positions for you. Somehow in a mixture of his strength and your refusal to give up his knot, you and he end up in flipped positions. He is still inside you, keeping you bred and warm. All while he gives you warmth through his body, adoring you right with kisses all over your face and neck.
“I’m so proud. I’m so fucking proud. Holy fuck, I feel high. You did do well. Oh my pretty princess. My baby love”, he whispers between his loving kisses, hands caressing your sweaty, sore skin gently.
This is instinct as much as it is his heart’s desire. He wants to soothe you, adore you, bring you down gently after lifting you so fucking high. He isn’t aware of how important this is to you. You feel so vulnerable and emotionally sensitive. It would be the same thing if someone decided to start open heart surgery on your aware self. This is how vulnerable you feel and it is Jungkook who makes it okay. It is Jungkook who calms you down and reminds you that you are allowed to be sensitive because he is there to protect you.
“I can’t comprehend this. I feel high. Wow baby, wow. How do you feel?” he babbles.
“Vulnerable.”
“Oh baby, I know. I’m here. Your Kook is here”, he assures you, nuzzling his nose against your scent spot. He hopes that if he nuzzles it long enough, he can spread some of his relaxing scent on you.
It works. Of course it does because your bodies need no instructions to communicate. It is natural and right and makes you and him feel fuzzy.
You sigh. Jungkook smells the relief against your neck. He kisses a path to your face. Your glassy eyes await him, eagerly building connection once they can.
“Thank you”, you whisper.
“No, I have to thank you. This was the best bonding night ever.”
“No, thank you”, you insist, spilling tears
Jungkook wipes them, knowing that you want to tell him something.
“For what, princess?”
“For, for making me feel like this. I, I was never in heat like this. I didn’t know that I could and it makes me feel really vulnerable. But you’re so gentle with me and it’s so nice.”
His eyes soften. He whispers your name adoringly and kisses your forehead.
“I feel the same. This was my first rut ever. I didn’t think that it would be so intense.”
“Kook, I’m scared. I don’t know what this means.”
“Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He kisses your nose, stubbing you with his own afterwards. “We can ask someone about it, but all I know for now is that I don’t wanna fucking stop having you close.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He kisses your lips, making your heart race and feel at home. He breaks the kiss gently, giving you the fondest and warmest smile ever.
“I’m so proud of you. You did so well, my princess baby.”
“Oh wow”, you get out, having to giggle.
Jungkook giggles with you, smiling as he steals a cheeky kiss. Afterwards he sits up. He is still connected with you by your middles, making you gasp and shiver.
“Sorry, I shifted. Are you okay?”
“Yes, oh god. What is happening to me? I feel so comfortable.”
Jungkook smiles, caressing your sides. He can’t stop looking at you. Your breasts are normal again, natural victims to gravity and so soft. They are still messy and wet from what happened before but nothing new leaves you. Your belly is bloated from his seed and covered in a layer of sweat. No wonder you sweat so much, you were burning up. Jungkook dances his palms over your bloated stomach, furrowing his brows in emotion.
“So alive”, he whispers.
“So alive”, you sigh, placing your hand over his’.
“___”, he says and meets yours eyes.
“Yes?”
“You’re so fucking beautiful. I didn’t get to say it as we were doing it because I was dumb in pleasure, but you are so beautiful.”
“You think so?”
“I do. I can’t believe that you’re real and, and that you allow me to see you naked. I just”, he exhales shakily. “I’m just so happy”, he chokes out, throwing his hand over his eyes to hide his tears.
“Kook, don’t cry”, you gasp and pull him down to you. He falls to his elbows, allowing you to hold his hands above your head.
He is pouting and sniffling. You give him a smile.
“Don’t cry.”
“They’re happy tears. We’re bonded, I’m so happy”, he says and smiles through his pretty tears.
Your smile grows, you squeeze his hands. He was right when he said that you and he will get to know each and that it will be nice. You can feel it. You are right for each other. You are so right.
You put your legs around him and push him deeper again.
“Oh”, he gasps, squeezing your hands, “wo-oah this felt really intense”, his voice quivers as he speaks.
“It does”, you agree, rolling your hips up.
Jungkook gasps, “what are you doing?”
“I want more of you.”
“Really? Baby, you’re sore. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Please. Be gentle. Please make love to me, Kook baby.”
Jungkook spills tears, whimpering your name. This is everything he ever wanted. He pulls out of your sensitive warmth to thrust into you.
Crack!
You and he scream in shock as the bed finally gives up completely and comes crashing down onto the ground. Jungkook keeps you safe with his arms around you and your head cradled against his chest.
You and he share a moment of shocked and disoriented silence before you break it.
“Oh my god”, you let out, breaking into loud, honest cackles. Jungkook looks at you, having to break into laughter as well.
“Did we just get cock blocked by the bed?”
“I think so. It might be my fault. I kinda broke it when I fucked you with my knot. Sorry.”
“Oh god, Kook.”
You laugh oh so loudly, throwing your head back for it.
Jungkook has to almost squeak as he laughs with you, heart bursting in his chest.
“This is so funny. Oh my god.”
“Yeah, it’s hilarious”, he agrees and goes in for a surprise kiss.
Your laugh cuts off, a gasp replaces it. Your eyes fall closed and your hands bury themselves in his soft hair. This kiss is emotional and it is deep. It has meaning. It is happy and filled with love. Jungkook lets you experience it to its fullest, ending it with a stub of his nose and a smile.
“I promise to fix it. I’ll add steel in the frame.”
“So you think we’ll break it again otherwise?”
“Yeah.” He laughs breathily, nodding his head. “If this is how it feels to be with you during stimulation induced heat, imagine how it will be once it’s your natural heat.”
You gulp, gazing at him dreamily. The rising sun shines on his face, making his skin glow golden.
“Koo, I think you need to heat proof this entire room”, you whisper, making him chuckle and nod his head.
“I will. I’ll make it safe and cozy. Shit baby, I can’t stop saying it. You’re so beautiful. The sun is shining on you and you’re so beautiful.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, looking at him shyly
“You’re beautiful too”, you whisper, making him blush.
“Wow, thanks”, he mumbles, scrunching his nose. He does a little shift to be closer to you. The bed croaks and punishes him for it by making the headboard drop. He catches it before it can fall on top of you
“Piece of shit bed.”
“Oh god”, you laugh “I think we need to take care of this mess first and then continue.”
“Yeah shit, I think you’re right. The bed’s out to get us.”
You laugh and snicker, kicking your feet happily. He chuckles and shoves the headboard to the side.
“Come on, let’s take a shower”, he says and picks you up.
You nuzzle into him, feeling beyond safe.
“Do you have snacks too? I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
“Of course. You know what? First fact about me? I’m actually a really great cook.”
“You are?”
“Mhm, I’m also a total foodie. So if you wanna bribe me into snuggles, get me food and I’ll be the cuddliest boy ever.”
You snicker. It makes your heart flutter when he talks cute with you.
“Do you like food?” he asks.
“Yeah, I like food. It’s comfort.”
“Yeah, right. Do you like cooking together?”
“I never did it before.”
Jungkook holds you closer.
“Then I know what we’ll do. Shower and cook and I get to give you kisses. And later when you’re not sore anymore, I’ll make that gentle love to you. If you want me to.”
“Yeah, I want you to. This sounds so nice. Koo?”
“Yes, love?”
“It’s gonna be so easy for me to fall in love with you.”
“Wow, you. Urgh, you drive me crazy you”, he gets out through gritted teeth and presses you against the next best wall to attack your face and neck with tingling kisses.
You squeal his name, having to laugh in giddiness. It will not be the last time that you laugh because of him.
MERAKI (v., Greek). "to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work."
Summary: Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader
➳ rating: 18+
➳ genre: e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut
➳ warnings: bickering, bantering, jk is a bit rude at the beginning, flirting, tension, oc is bold and courageous, mention of someone being stoned, mention of insomnia, jk's lip rings <3, heights, not exactly e2l but more like "i find you pretty annoying" to lovers lmao, deep talks and sweet moments, one bed trope, guest appearance, jk takes pictures of pretty things, stars and sky talk <3, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, implied pain kink? lol, fingering, manhandling, oral (f. & m. receiving), teasing, 69, spitting, one or two spanks, bit of choking, soft and hard sex, unprotected sex (oc has an iud), soft dom!jk but also glimpses of sub!jk, ofc biiiig dick!jk, doggy/riding/missionary, praises, more flirting, jk's godly body, masturbation, cum swallowing (he comes in her mouth); the lovely ending <3
➳ word count: 26.6k <3
➳ a/n: you guys built this fic!! 🥺 hopefully this is what we expected it to be. it's also yet another love letter to one of the gentlest men i know; happy birthday, jeon jungkook, you're the standard and i will never fall out of love with you 💕 i hope y'all enjoy it!! come and talk to me when you're done mwah <3
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs
1:04AM, Her
There’s a word for how you do what you do.
A term you hold dearly in the crevices of your bright heart. Ever since you first learned its meaning two decades ago, you’ve made it your primary goal to breathe through life with it as your philosophy.
Passion, it is. A word certainly common in conversation and daily life — you’re not the only person to live by it. Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to wallow in it.
Because there’s a fire behind your hard-working chest, lit up, pride residing next to it. It’s where you feel the most vivid light when you do what you love, blooming and blossoming. There are synonyms of it you know, and each of them are pretty as a growing garden.
You gatekeep them for now; haven’t yet found a person to share your knowledge with. Which is okay; in the meantime, you’ll keep looking. You do think everybody needs something like this in their lives.
Something that forces your body upright, sprinkling fairy dust and glimmer into your eyes. Something you can resort to in order to escape the trials of life.
For you, as odd it may seem to people, it’s your job.
You usually work late like today, surrounded by sounds and disquiet. But you enjoy it. You like stepping into the night afterwards, and you like the dark blanket above, the starlight sprinkled across the comforting blackness.
And you like it when it drizzles sometimes. The giggles of couples or groups of friends as they wade through the rain. The absolute quiet and relieving serenity.
You live for this. You enjoy people. You enjoy sensing life around you.
Tonight isn’t different. Even when you find yourself hastening by the end, wrapping up the event with a dozen chores to tackle; even when the host rushes to you, asking for help. Your shoes click-clack across the floor as you move left and right, up and down.
But by God, you never doubt these days’ worth.
1:04AM, Him
Sometimes, people don’t want to be photographed.
Jungkook learned that early on when he agreed to be a photographer at events. He’s encouraged and urged to ask people to pose; that’s his job. Waiting for them to force a smile before they can resume eating, debone their fish or work on their lobsters, beef, veggies.
They long to return to whatever they were doing, or to their conversations, mostly insignificant ones; Jungkook knows because he, involuntarily, hears too many of them.
It’s only when they’re dancing or drinking that they open up. That’s when they’re okay with listening to him, obedient, almost as if he’s authority, staring into the lens with flushed cheeks and wide grins.
Though it’s irritating when every other person walks up to him afterwards, inquiring when they’d be receiving the photos, or, even ruder, if at all.
Today, there are a few more comfortable people around. Not as harsh, not as grim as he feels. You’re here, too, somewhere; of course you are — you got him here in the first place. Somehow, your paths often cross. You were ready for a picture immediately, drawn in by the host, smiling.
He perceived your presence just for a second, though. Doesn’t need or want any more than that. You’re too loud, too energetic anyway; he’s rather among himself, not in any photo, indulging in the job.
He loves clicking through his camera roll; it’s the people that tire him out. Working his way through the pictures he took once home gives him joy, though. Makes his fatigue feel worth it.
But God, you’re not the only one, right? So many people here are the same amount of enthusiastic, party people to the core.
Which is why he’s happy when the night finally concludes, and he, far after midnight, stuffs his equipment back into his bag and slips into his at least somewhat chic blazer.
1:12AM, Her
You groan as your hand dives into your bag, fishing out the key that you already removed from your keychain an hour ago. Back when the man facing you approached you; he’s the last face you see when you step out of the somewhat stuffy hall.
Or so you think.
You don’t know that the night is far from over when you linger at the entrance, handing him a key that he encloses in his grip with a grateful nod and a goodbye-wave. The final interaction when you excuse yourself, breathing in the night.
It’s a hunch cooler than when you left home today; yet, the breeze feels pleasant caressing your skin. The end of August is still warm, still fairly far from fall; you regard summer nights as the best part of the season.
Sighing, you come to a halt in the middle of the pavement, studying the alley. You ponder until you remember a bus not too far from here; you need to turn left, right? Should be there. You have never been around here before, so you’re not entirely sure.
But you’ll just go with your first instinct for now. Keep walking until you detect any kind of a promising sign. You hold onto your roomy bag as you pass the rare people still around.
Some of them are faces you recognise from the party; some are strangers. One couple you spoke to just earlier even lifts a thumbs up for you, praising you for the exceptional organisation. They make you feel at ease until the road quietens.
And the place stays serene and silent until you hear the clearing of somebody’s throat. It’s not near; yet not far. Your eyes scan the area, not for long when they recognise a figure sitting on the opposite side of the narrow street.
It’s a man, clutching a heavy object with careful hands. A camera, you know it immediately. He’s hunting through the pictures he took, face slightly lit by the screen. Jutting lower lip, slowly blinking eyes.
Simple attire — dark jeans, a white shirt, and a blazer on top that hides the wide shoulders.
Constantly and undeniably handsome, albeit always grim due to the lack of a smile.
You squint to confirm it’s him you’re seeing; but when he smacks his lips in the dark of the night, nibbling at the shiny lip rings, you know you’re right. This is a habit you’ve never seen on anybody this persistently as on Jeon Jungkook.
And the one and only Jeon Jungkook must be feeling your eyes on him, because only a second later, he lifts his gaze. Instinctively, you wave a little, but Jungkook isn’t on board with your hospitality. He rolls his eyes; you don’t take it to heart, though. You’re used to this.
As he starts stuffing the camera back into his bag, you waddle over, crossing the street. Upon reaching him, you ask, “Got some good pictures tonight?”
“I’d guess so.”
His voice is as nonchalant as always, his shoulders relaxed, uncaring. To your vampire-novel-reading middle school self, he would’ve been the coolest and most mysterious riddle, waiting to be cracked. But you know how he feels about you, and that makes the situation just a little less intriguing.
Yet, you never stopped approaching him, because aside from conversations like these, you know he’s just human, too. He smiles at events whenever he gets the chance, content with the moments he captures; he likes what he does.
Photography has always been his thing; or that’s what you gathered, at least. You see the same sparkle in his eyes that you feel in yours when you work; the same joy when he fumbles with his camera, always checking, presumably changing the settings, testing it out.
You lean in a little, wondering, “Can I see?”
“Uhm…” He hesitates, lifting the strap of the camera bag higher up his shoulder. “Do you have to?”
“If I may. I brought you here, remember?”
Of course. It’s always you; you’re the one to organise this, and you’ve seen his pieces and albums before. He might not hang around you too much, always the first to tell you he has somewhere else to be, but you know he’s good. You trust him in this regard.
“You say that every time,” he argues, a tattooed hand settling on his bag, clearly reluctant.
So you click your tongue, waving your suggestion off. You try to sound as lively as ever, but your voice is more earnest as you say, “Okay, it’s fine. Don’t show me the pictures, but come on. Be a bit nice at least.
“Alright. What else? Do you need something?”
You sigh in defeat. “No. I was just going home.”
“You should go home. It’s pretty late.”
“Aren’t you going, too?”
“I am,” he responds, his voice going up at the end. “I just wanted a bit of peace before leaving.”
“Peace,” you repeat, as if trying out the word. “You can’t get it at home?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer this time. Instead, he only shifts his stare from you to the empty road ahead, exhaling a dramatically long breath before he gets into motion. You immediately react, by his side until he asks, “Are you following me?”
“Huh? Did you forget that I was literally heading this way?” He’s distracted, looking for the street signs, and you laugh at his own confusion. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
“I guess so.”
Okay, at least he’s honest, not giving himself airs. You want to see what his inner compass suggests, but then somewhat shun the thought of walking further into unknown terrain.
So you question, “You taking the bus?”
“Nope. Subway.”
“Ah. That should be this way, then,” you nod towards the direction you’re approaching, “I know the bus is, because that’s where I need to go.”
“…Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
That’s it. He doesn’t respond much; only lets out the millionth sigh, following you with something you might nearly call trust. He doesn’t attempt small talk or any other kind of interaction, so you let him sink into his thoughts.
But a beat of silence later, you still ask politely, “How did you like the party?”
“Uhhh, it was okay.” For the first time in minutes, he looks at you. “The people were weird, don’t you think? But I got some good shots in.”
“Hmm… okay. I didn’t notice anything weird about the people.” You shrug your shoulders. “Talking about shots… did you drink a little?”
He whines your name as the question is a tale as old as time, complaining, “Every single time? Why is this so important to you…” He waits, shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. Seems you did, though.”
“A little,” you say, bringing your forefinger and thumb together, indicating a tiny space. “But I’m all sober and well.” Another brief pause. “Are you okay, too?”
He licks his lower lip, dimples appearing that don’t ever need a smile to emerge. Then, he throws back, “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Dunno. You always look so bored at parties. And you always go home alone.”
You don’t know if the following laugh is sarcastic or not, but you soon discover the very answer when he lifts a finger and counts, “First off, how would you know?” Another finger added to the mix. “Secondly, I’m not bored. I’m just focused. And I don’t know anybody there.”
His hand drops again, working on his bag’s strap again. Pushing it over his shoulder. He adds, “It’s a bit different for me than for you because they’re literally your clients and you know them at least a little.”
“I mean… you know me.”
“Yeah, but you’re…” He regards you from head to toe, not the softest of expressions, and you pout. You don’t ever take him seriously, but he can be hurtful sometimes. “I just don’t think we’d be good conversation partners.”
“Weird,” you challenge, “because you’re conversing with me right now, no problem. It’s also not my fault you always argue with me at every event.”
“I don’t. You approach me.”
“You do.” You lean your face closer to his, not making it very far when his palm pushes your cheek, and you, away from him. “Ugh. Okay. Seriously, though — why do you always leave alone?”
He exhales in defeat. Seems that Jeon Jungkook is too tired to take your idiocy tonight. You understand, but you’re just trying to figure out how to convince him that you’re normal, too. That he just dislikes you because you’re different from him, and nothing else.
“Hey…” he utters, out of energy.
“I mean it,” you still declare, “there are so many sweet and nice girls around. They ask about you sometimes, you know? I’ve also met many men on such pa—”
“That’s great,” he interrupts, a palm stopping you from spilling more info, “but… I don’t think I’m interested.”
“Oh.” The syllable is short, cut, harmless. That is, until it clicks in your brain, and your eyes widen, lips parting as you turn to him in shock, stating, “Oh, wait. Do you… play for the other team?”
Jungkook blinks at you. Then lowers his gaze, turning it a couple shades darker, staring at you from under his eyelids. He looks annoyed when he spits, “No, I’m not gay. And even if I was, it’d be none of your business.”
Shit.
Okay, you were sure about your assumption, but now that it turned out wrong, this sounds pretty shitty. And annoying. And awkward.
“Sorry,” you apologise, and he gives you a taunting head tilt. “Okay… different topic then? Tell me, what do you think of this dress?” You lift the hem a little, smiling; you were convinced the moment you first saw it. “Do you think I look pretty today?”
For a second, he joins; his initial gaze is still cynical, but his voice is appealing, a whisper when he leans in and asks, “Why? Do you want to be the one I go home with?”
Ah… why do the words, the way he speaks them, tickle you just right? You’re flabbergasted, seeing your reaction on the bare skin of your arms, but all he does is back away again and once again, shake his head.
You want to retort something snarky back, but you don’t get to it when he inquires a moment later again, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
Right… you need to go home. You forgot.
“Uh… yeah.” You look around, finally detecting a sign, picturing a bus and a number. “There’s the bus, so the subway should be…” You stop; hum; then see two women waiting at the bus stop. “Should we ask someone?”
“Sure.”
With a nod, you separate from him, walking towards the bus station bench they’re sitting on, hands folded, conversing quietly. They’re surprised when they see a figure advance, but relax when they catch your smile.
You ask the questions floating in your brain, trying to explain where you live, what you need. They attempt an answer, gesture around, and barely a minute later, you’re thanking them and leaving again.
Jungkook stands there in anticipation, waiting for you to deliver good news — yet confused when you return with slumped shoulders instead of an enthusiastic, “We were right! Come!”
Okay, there aren’t too many reasons for Jungkook to dislike you; you want to say this much. But when you see him understand that this is going nowhere, you do get his frustration.
Especially as you kiss your lips, staring at him like a lost bunny, and explain, “So… the subway isn’t here.” Big eyes meet yours. “I’m not sure where it is, and they,” your thumb points to the girls behind you, “couldn’t help because they’re tourists.”
“Ah. Great,” he says, delivering a falsely cheerful smile. Hands thrown into the air. “So we’re stranded and should definitely not be here. What about the bus? Where does it go?”
“Uhm…” You scratch your head. “Not where I need to go. It’s a different one. But!” Immediately, your voice rises, trying to approach this with hope. It’s not the end of the world, after all! “Don’t worry! We’ll get home either way.”
“Just a lot later than necessary.”
“But nothing’s lost yet. Don’t you trust me?”
And — much as you thought — Jungkook only ogles back in silence, blinking once again before he walks away with a curse on his lips.
1:25AM, Her
You catch up to him fast.
“It’s not that big of a deal, I promise!” you vow, but you reckon it only makes matters worse.
Because he breathes air through his nose, like a bull, arguing, “I’m tired, though. This is wasting so much of my time. You always do.”
You stop in your tracks. He doesn’t. You sulk, “That was mean.”
“And you’re idiotic.”
“Well… shit.”
This time you tilt your head, grinding your teeth; less out of anger, more out of embarrassment. You don’t respond much else, and he doesn’t throw another insult. Instead, he opens the bag again with the velcro’s ripping sound, heaving out his SLR.
You peek over his shoulder, confused about the timing to indulge in a passion, and ask, “What are you doing with that?”
“Looking through them,” he mutters, thumb working on the switching button, “maybe I took a picture when I came here. A sign where to find the subway.”
His reasoning elicits a sudden laugh out of you, probably unfounded to him, but very amusing to you. He throws a bewildered and somewhat warning look, and you immediately silence; still holding yourself back when he turns away again.
You wait, listen to the quiet of the night. He doesn’t seem to find any success, and the more time passes, the funnier you find his mind. Eventually, you step next to him and give up, telling him, “Hey. Don't be so tetchy. I'm not that bad.”
Jungkook side-eyes you, tapping the screen of the heavy Sony A9 Alpha. Inhaling the pleasant late summer air, he defends, “I'm never tetchy! But you got us lost.”
“So? You’re being dramatic. There's still Google Maps.”
That’s it. This look of his.
Jungkook must’ve gotten stuck in a decade you’ve long left, because he stares at you dumbfounded, camera still firmly in his hands. He tongues his cheek, blinks.
And then, you mock, “Guess I’m not the only idiot here, right?”
His next breath is deep, and he soon averts your eyes again. You dig, “What? If anything, then low battery might be your only excuse, you know?”
He doesn’t look at you, and you break into a grin again. Shake your head. Then fish out your phone at last, ready to type in the goal, or at least, to search the nearest subway and bus that fit your demands.
Hmmm, okay. If you need to go where you think you need to go, then the subway will really be in immediate distance to the bus. So you’ll be heading in the same direction anyway.
You open your mouth to ask for his address, prepared to type it in — but as you look at him again, you detect a deeply focused Jungkook, pursing his lips at his camera and regarding it with glitter in his eyes. You see it even from here, the sparkle.
Maybe he’s waiting for you to deliver a conclusion, because you catch him moving through older pictures in the meantime. From here, you only see glimpses. Of forests and roads, and then of waterfalls. Even some of him and his friends.
He doesn’t notice it, but his eyebrows are much more relaxed now, expression not quite as steely anymore; and his lips even twitch for a tiny second, tempted to smile. As if he forgot where he’s currently standing.
You let your arms sink, both hands holding your phone, and just gaze for a while. Then move your eyes to the side. To the sky. Remember places you’ve seen and loved in this town. Still hear his harsh tone echoing in your ears.
In hindsight, you really don’t think you've ever personally hurt or offended him. He might’ve been annoyed by something else. Perhaps he was dealing with something that he never dared to speak about; or perhaps, his perception of optimism is warped, because he clearly doesn’t wade through life with it.
You’d like to see his real self, though. The real self, because your gut feeling whispers to you that this isn’t him. Maybe there’s a kind and kindred soul hidden somewhere; maybe his smile proves far more intriguing to you than these mysterious moods of his. Once it appears, that is.
But…
He’ll probably say no. Your idea isn’t dumb, you’re certain, but he very likely will not go with it. But you want to try. Want to show him that you’re not as bad, that he can trust you; want to know what burdens him; or why he talks to you like this.
You might be the only one to wish for more time with somebody who wants to avoid you like the plague.
Yet…
You don’t want this to end just yet.
So you drop a suggestion that surprise even you—
“…You know what? Let’s try something fun tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
He voices it with his attention only half on you, not quite taking you seriously; so you swallow to dampen your throat and speak firmer, suggesting, “You need to trust me on this, though.”
This time, he does look at you. Works on stuffing his camera back into his bag, opening his mouth to retort something, but you stop him with a shushing finger that he doesn’t look too happy about.
“Hold on, okay?” you exclaim. “Listen. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Uh… not until the afternoon.”
“So you can sleep in.”
“I guess.”
You clap once, loudly and dramatically, watching the man in front of you flinch. You can’t say if he’s irritated, shocked or terrified of you. But he looks hilarious like this, blinking, scowling as his fingers clutch his bag tighter.
“What is it?” he asks as if you’ve lost your mind.
“Look. Let’s not leave yet. Fuck Google Maps,” you suggest, and his eyes grow wider by the second, baffled, as if you’re caging him. “Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again. Isn’t this tempting?”
In your head, it is. Not for yourself, but for him. In your mind, he thinks of you as a constant nuisance that stands in his way, hopping around like an overhyped puppy.
Or not. Maybe he has a dog at home; maybe he regards you as worse than cute puppies.
Whatever.
You look at him expectantly, like your persisting stare could help him land a decision. Instead, however, he grimaces, his voice higher when he asks, “What even are you sa—”
No, you won’t give up yet; even if the recurring interruptions make him tear his hair out. You click your tongue and then argue, “Come on! Give it a try.”
Hesitation. Or rather, a question wondering if you’re crazy. Clear rejection. Are you losing?
“We’d be together, so nothing to fear,” you try further, “and how much time is there till sunrise?” You glance at your watch. “It’s barely half past one. The sun comes up in less than five hours. And like, I know it sounds like a lot, but if you give me some time, I’ll give you reasons to smile.”
He keeps looking at you in this questioning, are-you-fully-mad-manner, but you’re absolutely serious and you need him to know. You bat your eyelashes a little, offering your best laugh, and add, “Like this? If you really want to hate me after that, then okay. If not, then… maybe we could go get coffee someday.”
You’ve spoken enough. He raises a hand, quieting you down, and then finally says it.
“You must be crazy.”
“I am,” you confirm.
“You think I’d do this, huh?”
“…Maaaybe?”
“No.”
Jungkook’s answer is stone cold and direct, and it shuts you up with a near-wince. There’s a faint line between his thick eyebrows, lips pressed together; he looks dangerous and very, very mean.
So you don’t say much for another minute, following when he walks away. You side-eye him, notice him type his destination into his phone. Surrendering, you trudge the path he chooses, soon detecting signs leading to the subway.
He can’t say anything to your presence by his side. Even if his answer remains a steadfast, boring no, you’ll have to go in this direction anyway.
More than halfway through, you venture into a conversation again, “Have you ever tried anything like this before?”
“What? The nonsense you suggested?” he asks, and you nod, catching up with his long legs, slightly slower with your heels. “No. I don’t think I need to.”
“You’re so… don’t you ever try anything new?”
“I mean, is this your definition of something new?” He gestures at your surroundings haphazardly. “Going through town in the middle of the night instead of getting some decent sleep?”
You shrug your shoulders, defending, “It’s not like I do it every day. And nothing one can do every day anyway. That's why I want you to try it.” Your voice is soft, friendly. “But you don’t have to.”
He doesn’t answer; only comes to a halt when a bus stop nears, peeking up to the sign with the number before he asks, “That yours?” You hum in confirmation. “Okay. Will you get home well? It’s late.”
“Yeah, of course,” you pout, kicking off a tiny stone with your shoe, “done it a few times.”
He stalls. You don’t know why, but you’re sure he does. You notice it in his slow movements, the brief pause, the way he looks to the subway he needs to approach and then back to you. You smile when his eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and then he tilts his head, sighs.
“Alright. Then… good night.”
And that’s it.
You tell him to sleep well in return, earning a tiny nod, and then he’s leaving you stranded, walking away. Your eyes stay on him until he’s out of sight, down the escalator to the subway and far, far away from the fun idea you conjured.
You mimic his sigh. Take the two or three steps to the bench under the bus stop; and then you wait.
At this time, public transport operates irregularly, so you’re not surprised when you’re still there minutes later. For a while, you remain alone — that is, until a stranger tumbles to you, swaying before he takes a seat on the other edge of the bench.
You don’t look at him; don’t want his attention on you. But to your discomfort, he garbles just a second later, “This the bus to…”
He gets a hiccup, pointing to the bus sign, and then mumbles the name of the station he needs to reach. You don’t understand, however, so you prod, “What?”
Slower now yet similarly slurred, he repeats his question, but this time, you understand and nod your head yes. He overshares, “It’s just that I’m drunk, so I need to be sure. Sorry for interrupting.”
Suddenly, you feel kind of sorry for him. Your shoulders relax; you observe him letting his arms dangle between his legs, sniffling, incredibly exhausted, it seems. What did the fella experience tonight?
You respond, “It’s okay. It’s really late. Get home well.”
“Thanks. You’re very nice.”
The same finger previously signalling to the sign now points at you; but he doesn’t touch you. In fact, his digits are still a good distance away, already falling when you feel a hand on your elbow out of the blue; you nearly react on intuition, getting into position to break somebody’s nose.
But when your eyes meet the other man’s, you recognise him as the same figure standing tall that abandoned you a couple minutes ago. His hand is still grasping the camera bag strap, and he looks calm, confident when he speaks—
“All good? Sorry, I left for too long, right? Let’s go.”
Your voice changes, a chuckle hidden in it when you blurt, “What?”
“You wanted to take a walk.”
And just like that, the snicker dies again. Is he being serious? It seems so; it’s the whole package, even. The nod towards an entirely different direction and the sudden fingers around your wrist, pulling you away.
“Uhm…” you start, feet moving automatically. You turn to the guy drowning in inebriation, leaving a last, “Good luck!” as you wave, smile. Then, to Jungkook, “I thought you went away. Did you want to do this after all?”
You’re cocking an eyebrow, but much at the back of Jungkook’s head, so he doesn’t see. But it seems he hears the tease in your voice, because half-annoyed, half-argumentative, he explains, “No. Just wanted to be a gentleman. I was going to leave the moment you got on the bus.”
Ah. So he was waiting, hiding somewhere? But you don’t mention it; it’d probably just rile him up more.
Yet, you challenge, “You’re lying. You were concerned and you thought my idea was fun after all.”
“Whatever you say,” he says, waving the white flag, probably just to shut you up, “don’t know if I can do this until sunrise, but I can walk with you for a bit. Get you closer to home. And I swear!”
Now he turns, shooting a stare at you over his shoulders, lightning bolts in the middle of his pupils, “If you’re lying and there’s literally nothing special on our way, I’m actually never talking to you again.”
Nothing easier than that.
“Deal!”
“Cool,” he so nonchalantly remarks, finally letting go of your arm, “which way are you heading then?”
“North-east.”
“Good. Works for me.”
The sun is nowhere near up yet; of course not. It’s 1:37AM. Around four and a half hours.
You’re hopeful. In your head, you imagine an uplifted demeanour in no time; try to guess what his smile might look like. A genuine one. Maybe sweet? Maybe cocky? You’ll find out. You will.
So you straighten your stance, clear your throat, sigh a content breath, and step into the night with the courage the stars lend you.
2:13AM, Her
The first almost forty minutes of your night pass leisurely.
Jungkook’s initial sighs cease soon as you advance into the town, walking down a busy main street. You guess the bustling area, the sounds of the traffic and the lights of the flashing cars relieve him somehow. Give him an excuse to not talk to you.
But as the occupied road ends and you reach and pass a crowded square, you’re back in calm and serene alleys. Some people are still wandering around, passing closed shops, much like you.
You attempt conversation every now and then, and Jungkook, having eventually realised that he needs to cooperate with you — he agreed to your idea after all — isn’t as mad anymore.
At some point, he breathes in the late summer breeze, and your head swerves into his direction immediately — maybe the magic of the night has finally reached his core, too. Perhaps he’s appreciating the journey you set out to embark on.
You, for one, cherish the quiet; you know at least this much. The alley must be part of the older corner of the town because the lampposts seem Victorian. They’re fancy, bent at the top, the light a comforting golden.
You do admire the beauty in the dead of night, you do — but the weirdly bruising feeling on your skin becomes uncomfortably apparent the more you walk. Your heels and the Achilles tendons ache, the ball of your feet sensitive to each step.
For a while, you hide the stupid pain successfully, not wanting the night to end; and you do love the heels. Feel just the way those old romcom’s protagonists probably felt, strutting through town with a man whose life they’d change.
But as an involuntary groan slips out of you, Jungkook’s view changes from the old buildings to your struggling self. His eyes settle on your contorted expression before they move further down to your sudden limp.
He asks, “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah! Just been walking for a while, is all.”
“Hmm,” he hums, regarding your heels with a suspicious look. “Do they hurt?”
“Nah. I’m used to them.”
“…Oookay.”
He drags the word, as if in disbelief; and you can’t lie your way through the minutes when the ache worsens, the suddenly paved path too much of a chore. You nearly trip when your heel gets caught between the stones.
Jungkook immediately reacts when you hiss; you’re nowhere near actually falling, but his arms still reflexively jolt, the camera bag swaying and hitting your hand when he catches your shoulders.
“Okay, seriously,” he spits, eyes wide, “that’s enough. You can’t walk in these.”
“I can!”
“Not!” He takes a look around, inspecting the place; it’s quiet here, not too many cars driving by at all. So he points to the edge of the pedestrian zone, instructing, “Sit down there. Let’s see.”
See what?
You blink, but oblige. His pointing finger is dominant, and his eyes urging; you flatten your dress, taking a seat at the edge. The road isn’t high, so it’s a little uncomfortable; but you’re pleasantly surprised when he appears in front of you, crouching.
Very, very baffled when he requests, “Can you take them off?”
“Sure,” you say, unbuckling the straps around your ankles before removing the shoes. You sigh; you must admit, it does feel great. “I’m honestly okay, though.”
Jungkook doesn’t respond, ignores your statement; instead, asks, “May I?”
You don’t understand what he means until his hands come to a float right over your toes; he wants to check for bruises, doesn’t he? You nod curtly; something about this warms your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this side of him before.
Not that you ever had the chance to.
He doesn’t really hate you, does he?
Carefully, his fingers reach for your ankle. The touch is warm and pleasant; doesn’t hurt until he moves his thumbs to your heel. Your feet are overworked; you notice. But rather than the annoying pain, you can’t help but focus on your view.
The big, round nose, hiding the plump, parted lips. His eyes look hooded from here, strands of his hair covering them. Intrusive thoughts plead for your fingers to card through the dark mane; it looks soft, pretty.
And the gentleness he handles your skin with fills you with fondness; you like being cared for.
Even when he shakes his head; pulling you out of your daydream. You take a breath, and then inquire, “You don’t have a problem with touching feet?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just feet. Besides,” he stops for a second, detecting something at the back of your foot, shaking his head, “Mom used to work as a nurse. Tough job. I massaged hers sometimes.”
Ah… a loving son, a family person. You smile.
“And I thought you have a foot kink,” you tease.
“Shut up.”
“Found anything?”
“Yeah actually. Do you know how wounded your skin is here? Were you wearing new shoes?”
You gulp with a thin-lipped smile, wondering if he’ll kill you now if you tell him. You look to some random spot on your right before you admit, “Yes.”
“God, you…” He clicks his tongue. Puts your foot on the ground cautiously, reaching for his bag. He rummages through it until he pulls out a bandage, holding it in front of you. “You’re lucky.”
You chuckle, relieved and flattered. “I guess I am.”
He puffs out a laugh, but stops it right away, calling your name under his breath before he says, “God, you’re crazy. Be careful. And admit it when you’re hurt. Why didn’t you?”
Well… you didn’t want the night to end—
“I…”
You hesitate.
He works on your other foot just the same, a tender thumb running over your ankle, probably used to the soothing touch. It distracts you. And when he stops and you don’t answer, he puts his arm on his angled leg, staring up at you in anticipation.
“Yes?” he prods.
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d care.” Nonchalantly yet pouting, you nibble at your lower lip. “And if I’d told you they’re hurting, you might’ve suggested ending the night.”
He cocks an eyebrow as if agreeing to the most self-explanatory statement ever, nodding as he confirms, “Damn right I would’ve. We should end the night right now if you can’t walk. Not in these, at least.”
Your chest is hot, your stomach twisting a little. Jungkook really does bother; if not due to a connection he shares with you, then simply because he cares for people. Never, you have never experienced him like this before.
With a tilt of your head and a batting of your eyelashes, you suggest, “And if I was barefoot?”
Which he reacts to with a roll of his eyes. “The night isn’t that warm. Don’t do this to yourself. The ground’s dirty, too.”
You take a look at the dark grey pavement upon his argument, much as if the night could allow you to detect any of the dirt he speaks of. Once more, you hum, pretending to contemplate what to do; and when you pick up your heels, suggesting to follow your idea either way, the back of his hand gives your knee the lightest of hits.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Watch.”
He does. Watches you place your spacious, black bag on your lap, opening the zip. Observes as your hand dips in, pulling out one pair of sneakers and replacing them with your treacherous heels. He keeps ogling when you put them on, mouth widening bit by bit.
He doesn’t speak until you’re done, socks picked out of the shoes, pulled over your feet, laces tied. You keep smiling, content with the moment, only dropping the grin when you see his puzzled expression.
“What?” you question.
“You had them with you and… Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
Your answer comes without hesitation; whatever timidity he elicited a moment ago slowly fades again. You clear your throat, back to who you are, and dauntlessly admit, “It was sweet. How you took care of me, I mean. I didn’t think you ever would.”
“But you could’ve at least worn them sooner and avoided the hurt?!”
“Well, it didn’t hurt then…”
“You’re…”
Jungkook uprights himself, towering above you. You put a flat palm onto the pavement, wanting to heave yourself up, but soon see a hand in front of your face. He’s offering it; and you’re quick to take it.
Warm and soft; gentle.
As he pulls you up, you land closer to his body than calculated; his face isn’t too far from yours… much nearer than it has ever been. He leans back; looks to the side; blinks. Clears his throat. Lets go off your hand way too late.
The breath you held escapes in a sudden blow. You swallow.
And when you’ve processed the strange moment, you feel the change in your stance. You’re standing taller now; your feet feel heavenly in your Nikes. Dusting off the front of your dress and your ass, you wait for him to say something.
But he keeps standing there on the road, in the middle of a parking space, hands on his hips. He’s judging you; you understand. Your mindset isn’t for everybody. You might seem crazy, alright.
Yet, he doesn’t scold you again. The up and down of his irked voice doesn’t appear this time when he speaks again; instead, his chin nods towards your legs, and he questions, “So you just carry around shoes with you?”
“I need to,” you say, matter-of-factly, “I can’t ride the motorcycle in heels. And!” Jungkook’s mouth opens, but you’re quick to explain. “Before you ask. No, I didn’t hide my bike anywhere. It needs some fixing, so my co-worker took it because he knows someone who’ll do it. And because he owes me a favour.”
“Right… how unfortunate.” He pauses; runs his tatted digits through the hair you longed to touch minutes ago. They look so silky, it makes you sick. His eyes settle on you, intrigued before he adds, “So, you have a bike, huh?”
“Yeah… why?”
“No reason. I do, too.”
“Mmmh,” you voice, nodding to the road ahead to suggest moving. He follows, trudging next to you again. “You didn’t use it today?”
“No…” He pats the camera bag. “Didn’t want to harm my equipment.”
You hum approvingly, fingers entangling in front of your body. You inch closer to his arm, nudging his shoulder with yours before you flash a sugary smile and say, “Thank you. For caring even a little, you know? Even if you’re always like that, it’s nice to see you like this for once.”
“I’m usually like this,” is what he, however, merely answers, accompanied by air quotes.
But you know you’ve gotten through to him at least a little. Melted bits of the frozen parts of his heart that feel so vexed by you on other nights. In truth, you think, there’s nothing but a delicate organ pumping behind his ribcage.
He’s not a robot; Jeon Jungkook is undeniably humane. If anything, then more than most people you have ever met.
And it shows when he looks away, barely able to hide his smile. You see it even from here — that the gesture does something to his eyes. Nearly squints them shut, makes them smaller, more joyful.
You inhale, proud of yourself. Watch as he toys with his lip rings before he asks eventually, “What do you mean owing you a favour, by the way?”
He sounds almost offended. You think he’ll ask about that favour, reprimand you for giving away your bike tonight of all nights. Tell you off for dragging him here, doing something big enough to entrust an entire motorcycle to somebody.
But instead, he continues with a question you never foresaw, “Are you in a quarrel with them? Am I not your arch-enemy?”
You burst into laughter immediately, covering your mouth as the other palm touches his arm. There’s a bulging bicep under his blazer, but you’ll focus on that later.
Right now, you’re fairly occupied by the satisfied eyes; he doesn’t really expect an answer. He wanted to make you laugh… Why does that set something loose in your brain?
“Oh… are you jealous? What if I told you it’s somebody else who occupies my mind at night and not you?” you wonder, wiggling your eyebrows.
“Don’t do this to me. I’ll find your co-worker and fight them for your enemyship. Word of honour.”
“It’s enmity. And stop flirting with me,” you tell him, moving towards him again, shoulder hitting shoulder. “Or is it something else with arch-enemies?”
This time, he doesn’t veil his grin. It’s bright, pretty, reminiscent of the light shed on you underneath the lampposts. And his pupils; whenever you see them clearly enough, you recognise the sky in them. Borrowed stars inside.
You shake your head a second later, winding down from your fit of laughter, and tell him, “You’re not my arch-enemy. Arch-enemies don’t exist, and you know you aren’t one. You just…” You stall, your voice quieter now. “You just regard me as one.”
He throws you an indecipherable look. Hints of joking, shreds of seriousness, you think. His gaze drifts back to the path again, regarding a passing group of three friends briefly. His hands slide into the pockets of his jacket, and he sniffles once before he utters—
“No, I don't.”
Ah. Ah.
Why do your eyebrows relax the way they do? And your shoulders; already in ease, yet they seem to fall in relief. You peer at him wordlessly; he doesn’t demand an answer, fully aware you’re looking at him.
And you don’t ask what you’ve been to him ever since he saw you at the first party probably a year ago; what irked him, what delighted him. If he thought about you at all.
Instead, you look at the neon words in the next street, asking, “Are you hungry?”
2:19AM, Him
You’re irritating to the core.
You always have been. But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit you amused him a little. No matter how much you’ve been wasting his time, you allowed a smile in this ill-lit night. Nobody else at the party did — so in some sense, you’ve already won, and somehow, he’s even grateful.
Grateful that you’re optimistic about the world at least. Glad that you suggested fetching food. Endeared by the way you thanked him for his care. Surprised that you ride a motorcycle! Relieved that you have good humour.
Even though his own humour and smile dissipate after you enter one of the few open stores still providing late night snacks. The girl behind the counter looks tired, but straightens a little when the two of you flash a polite smile.
She greets with a sweet, “Hi!” but Jungkook sees the lethargy in her drooping eyes immediately. Poor girl.
But you’re as enthusiastic as ever; maybe a little more now, maybe observing the same as him. You put your hands on the counter like a child — the image is somewhat cute. But what comes out of your mouth is not.
“Uhm… Could I have a portion of cheese tteokbokki, please? And then… A half and half corndog for my husband.”
Your… what now?
Excuse me?
Jungkook throws an immediate and scorching look your way, utterly surprised. When you meet his eyes, his thick eyebrows are closer than anybody’s ever seen. He huffs your suggestion away, and then corrects, “I’m not her husband. And I’ll take the chicken wrap.”
You chuckle, leaning into him, shielding your mouth with a hand as you warn, “They’re not usually very good at this store. Trust me.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
Right. He does. After the disaster of finding the damn bus and the deception caused by your shoes, he won’t trust you very easily anymore. His opinion clearly differs from yours, so he’ll bank on his gut feeling.
Satisfied when you shrug, as if to indicate, “If you say so,” he walks over to the window seats with you in tow, looking out to the peaceful streets. Once seated, he turns towards you, peering until you notice and ask far too purely, “What?”
“Not even your boyfriend, no… Jumped straight to making me your husband, huh?”
The lift of your shoulders brushes his concerns aside; your eyes are incredibly innocent and even somehow playful when you say, “I thought it’d be fun.”
“Was it really?”
“Well, your reaction was funny, at least.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes in disbelief. You’re courageous, he must admit. Social anxiety must fear you — is that how you live life? Unabashed, spirited, not a sheer care for anything that won’t actually hurt you.
He doesn’t know if you’re insane or if he’s jealous.
But he still reiterates, “You’re crazy. And it was embarrassing.”
“I mean,” you say, moving on your chair, folding your fingers on top of the counter but still looking at him, “it was embarrassing because you made it. It’s honestly whatever.” You blow a raspberry, and then take a swing again, “Why is it awkward anyway? We’ll never be here together again.”
He whispers a hushed, “Thankfully,” and you tap the counter with a click of your tongue. He gets it; you live differently. That’s fine. As long as you don’t pull him into your mischief, it’s fine.
Right?
He’s right, isn’t he? He knows that in his personal opinion he is; yet, he can’t help but feel that sting, suddenly deeming himself as boring. You’re never bored, are you?
Anyway…
“Even if you do something like this again,” he tells you, “at least tell me.”
“I mean, that would kinda prevent your genuine reactions from happening, but… if it makes you happy.” You grin at him, and he scoffs; wants to say something before the girl calls for you. “Food is ready.”
A couple seconds later, the two of you have settled back into place; at the sight of the snack, Jungkook salivates. He didn’t realise how hungry he actually was. The buzz and fuzz of a party makes one forget such an essential thing fast.
Or maybe, he was just immersed in his work.
The chicken smells good, at least. Or are these your tteokbokki? He can’t quite discern the scent right now; his mind is fogged by his appetite. Silently, he unwraps his food, swallowing before he digs into the wrap.
So far, so good… seems edible. He keeps chewing; swallows some more. But as the taste starts to sink in and he realises the sogginess of the wrap, the lack of proper sauces and the dryness as well as the blandness of the chicken…
He pauses. Where… are the flavours?
Slowing down, he glances at his meal. Inspects it as if he’s holding an entirely new recipe in his hands. A look of realisation creeps upon his face, unaware of your gaze, and he soon hears an amused snicker from the side.
You don’t say much when your eyes align. Only, “And?”
He knows he’s already lost when his expression changes, cringing; when he can’t answer right away, only gaping at you in confusion. Still thinking about where this recipe went wrong.
He answers, “It’s fine…”
But you catch his obvious lie; he sees it in the way you smile so devilishly. Cocking an eyebrow, enjoying another bite of your snack without ever averting your eyes. Then, you put the tiny wooden fork back into the dish, propping your cheek on your fist.
You wait; he doesn’t know what for. For him to eat again? Maybe; because you soon ask, “Do you want something else?”
“Nah.” His answer is instant this time. “I can do this. I’m an omnivore.”
“Ah, yeah. An omnivore friend right here.” You laugh, curious when he takes another bite. And then, “Jungkook, it’s okay to admit…”
But he won’t listen. Only makes a disapproving sound, stuffing his mouth with another horrendous bite. Shit; he can’t confess that you were right. That you were actually right this time.
Suddenly, he’s craving a cup of ramyeon.
But he should keep eating. Wash it down with his drink, empty the soda. And he’s almost halfway through when he notices a movement from your direction, like you’re playing with your food.
Only, he realises that you are not; rather separating the tteokbokki in two halves before shoving the porcelain dish towards him. He shakes his head, but you persist, “Take it, man.”
It does look good…
But… are you going to use the satisfaction his defeat may give you? Probably. But fuck… Fuck it.
Reluctantly, he lets the wrap fall onto the small plate, gulping down the remainder of what he just bit off, and then, accepts your generosity with a nod. And… whether it’s because of the disappointment the wrap brought or the late hunger…
Jungkook thinks he’s levitating above clouds, floating towards the sun.
It’s good. Very damn good.
And when you ask again this time, “Should we get another?” his nod comes promptly, chest risen in satisfaction as he states, “That’d be great.”
“Alright. Be right back.”
“Nah,” he says, lifting an arm as if to protect you. Mid-action, you halt, sliding back up onto your seat. “Stay here. I’ll get it… All good.”
So he does; enjoys the look of surprise when his other hand even carries dessert, four pieces of matcha mochi ice cream. He says, “This is for you.”
You gasp. He can’t deny that it’s sweet — the elation, the big eyes, the palms coming together in delight. How you look between the food and him, suddenly wiggling your feet.
“You seem to like it,” he notes, and you nod feverishly, telling him that, “Yes! Been craving it since we came in. Thank you!”
“Oh. You should’ve told me earlier! We could’ve gotten it. No worries.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to see if my dessert stomach still allowed anything. Didn’t disappoint me today.”
Jungkook gets to his own tteokbokki, halving it in the middle the way you did, pushing it towards you. It’s weird to think about it like this, but — considering how long the two of you have known each other, you might almost look like… friends.
And you don’t feel quite like an enemy either. You’re even… kind of nice. Friendly; harmless.
“I’m glad,” Jungkook responds, only looking towards the entrance when another group of three friends, two girls, a guy, enter. Then back to you, “Sorry. You were right. This,” he points to the poor, sad wrap, “was shit.”
“See? My first instinct almost never lies. And I know this store from other places… the wraps are never good.”
“Sure, but… your first instinct isn’t always right, though, is it? You did get us lost, so it was wrong at least once.”
“Hm… was it, though?”
Jungkook regards you in confusion as you put another piece on your tongue, working on the chewy thing as he asks, “What do you mean? We had no clue where we w—”
“Yeah, I mean. I agree. But… I don’t think it was that wrong. Because—”
You lick your lips clean off the tteokbokki sauce, smacking them. You look child-like, but pretty when you indulge in your element, uncaring about everything, just living. Maybe it’s not that bad that you’re bold.
And maybe, just maybe, he can power through this night easily after all; especially if you keep saying things that soothe his chest, things like—
“Because my first instinct brought me to you.”
2:49AM, Him
The temperatures are falling as the night proceeds, and the second portion of the mochi ice cream adds to the pleasant chill.
Jungkook wonders how you’re doing; your dress is skimpier than his jeans, and your arms bare. But your stance and your speech are still inconspicuous, skin free of goosebumps, your walk elegant, leisurely.
Judging from your occasional hums and your ceaseless optimism, you’re enjoying this journey. It almost makes him feel bad; guilty about how adamantly he refused all this just an hour ago.
It hasn’t been too bad. Sure, you’re bold and intrepid, and yeah, in some ways he is, too — but his courage stems from other motivations. From adrenaline-loaded activities or joyful, temporary pains. Like his tattoos; his motorcycle; the summer he bungee-jumped for the first time.
You’re a different kind of daring; you challenge your limits in crowds and consider life a respectful joke. You don’t ever hurt anyone, he doesn’t think — you just go and see how far you can push yourself.
Perhaps in some sense, the two of you complement each other while simultaneously seeming to be cut from the same wood. Perhaps you’re different, but then again, not so much.
You’re quiet; you weren’t until you left the snack bar. As for now, however, you seem distracted, swallowing heaps of your dessert as you scan the surroundings you’ve led the two into. You’re somewhat unfazed by it, yet peering as though you’ve been here before.
Which, in retrospect, makes sense. You’ve been wanting to show him places you enjoy after all.
When the silence extends, Jungkook, along with the chirping of the nightlife, breaks it with a, “You know what?”
Your head swerves to his side, the wooden fork in your mouth. The pure gaze you give him throws him off guard for a moment — it’s somewhat sweet. But as he regains himself, he says, “I didn’t think we’d get to a housing scheme here. The main street is super close, but the vibe is so different.”
“I know. It’s a little scary at night when you’re alone. Gives very Desperate Housewives, doesn’t it? Secrets veiled behind shut curtains.” You draw closer, imitating a spooky gesture. “But I liked coming here when I was younger.”
Bingo. He thought so.
“Ah… why?”
“My friend lived here,” you explain with a tilt towards a random direction; he doubts the friend lived in just the house you gestured to, “she’s long moved out of course, but we’d play on these streets back then. Most of the neighbours knew me, too!”
Jungkook tsks, hauling his own bite out of the cup, and you add, “No, seriously! We could just knock at anybody’s door here, and they’d let me in.”
“Not if they moved out, too. A lot of time has passed.”
You bob your head. “Time has passed indeed. It does so pretty fast.”
“Doesn’t it?”
You seem to get into overdrive, gearing up; he didn’t think this topic would rev you up like this, but it appears you have a somewhat firm and fond opinion about the passing of time. Jungkook recognises the sentiment before you speak — the light of the lampposts reflects in your eyes like glitter.
Only, he doesn’t foresee what you say next, your tone teasing through the joy you display—
“Yeah! Like. Do you remember when I told you to not get the wrap and you still di—”
“Shut up.”
The roll of his eyes isn’t anything new; but the faint feeling that accompanies it, something akin to amusement, certainly is.
“Okay, but. Seriously,” you start again, sly smirk falling, voice neutralising the mock, “it felt different here. Because like, you know, where I live, it gets crowded. I’m not too far from the city centre, so… this place always felt really peaceful to me. Jieun and I played together a lot.”
Jungkook frowns.
“Jieun?”
“Hm? Oh. The friend I spoke about? She’s pretty cool.”
“Ah… Right, right.”
“Mhmm,” you hum, the end of your small fork tapping the bottom of the nearly finished cup, “you know another way to know that time passes really fast?” You pause for effect, then add, “It’s been ages since we saw each other for the first time.”
“Right. At a party, too, right? When was that anyway?”
“Hmm… Like.” You ponder, blinking, looking up to the sky. “Like two years ago?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen; if you’d asked him, he would’ve estimated a year tops. If he digs in his memory thoroughly enough, he could probably even remember what you wore that day; what you looked like.
It doesn’t feel like two years. You’re right — time truly does pass like the wind.
“Wow,” he exclaims, “it’s been this long since you started pestering me?”
“Shut up,” it’s your turn to blurt, your body swaying towards him until you push him to the side of the vacant road. “I didn’t even come near you most of the time.”
“I know, I know. You were fun to look at, though. Seemed to enjoy yourself every single time.”
Shit, why did he say that? Shouldn’t he hold onto the image he fostered; the one that’s permanently irked by you, throwing snarky remarks throughout the night?
And…
Didn’t this just break the banter, the frenemyship — frenmity? — the two of you have going on? Was it too nice? It’ll probably surprise you. Then again, is he a damn child? Why would he worry about such things? Question his own kindness?
Why would he hold onto his ego and deny you his humane side when you’ve been nothing but lovely to him all night?
The young adult rivalry is over, Jeon Jungkook. Look at her and fucking admit that you’re the arrogant one.
But funnily enough, you don’t seem to notice anyway.
“Hmmm, I do love my job,” you answer, “I have a lot of fun organising stuff. Doing something good for other people, right? See them enjoy it. I mean, of course there are days when things don’t go as planned, but.”
You lift a shoulder, indulging in the final remnants of your chewy mochi and the melted matcha ice cream inside.
“I know. It happens to me, too.”
“Really? How?”
Jungkook waves towards the sky, lists, “Heavy rain, lots of traffic, too spontaneous, issues with the camera… etcetera. Anything can happen.”
“Yeah — I get it. But yeah, I do love doing this. I meet a lot of nice people, too. And I guess that makes me feel very… blessed? It puts things into perspective.”
“How so?”
“Like, it makes you see that most people aren’t bad.”
Huh. Odd. Not that he’d ever deem the entire globe vile, putting a standardised label that he can impossibly prove. But as far as he has seen… too many people aren’t good either.
“Really?” he asks. “That’s a lucky thing to experience.”
You look genuinely surprised, turning towards him when you ask, “You don’t?”
“Uhm — rarely. I do enjoy photography. Always have.” His mind zooms into a glinting memory from the past, and his shoulders and voice rise when he recalls, “Y’know… My dad got me one of those yellow disposable Kodak cameras when I was a kid. I loved it so much.”
You nod; if he didn’t know better, he’d almost say you look… delighted. Actually interested.
“And events and weddings,” he continues, “they’re beautiful to capture. It’s probably the lights and the pretty people. And just… the memories?”
This time, he looks away, straight to the road; if he hadn’t, he’d know that your gaze is definitely fond now. No doubt about it. You listen in closely.
It’s the first time he’s talking to you like this, or to anyone — or for this long, for that matter. Most of your conversations were fleeting, fiery, a petulant back and forth that — he now realises — could’ve been something else, something better, too.
“But then it just sucks when so many of them can’t appreciate it properly,” he explains, raising his hands to emphasise, tone galled. “I mean, I look at my camera and I see a tool to create art. It’s… nothing I take for granted. Just think about it.”
The ball of fire in his chest grows; he feels it warm up, gassed-up. “A thing that can hold onto moments in absolute high definition, so that you can still remember them years later? The 18th century couldn’t have imagined. They needed to commit everything to memory just like that.”
“Wow, Jungkook… You really do love this, too.”
His arms fall to the side. He inhales the fresh flurry of air. Rethinks his passion for his job and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”
“…But?”
He knows what’s missing.
“I love the art, but I hate the clients. The event hosts. Not you, but the one even above you.”
Jungkook reckons this was a confession that long sat on his tongue unmentioned. Of course he thought about it; is always reminded when he attends these functions, standing at the back, at the front, left and right, unnoticed and taken for granted.
But now that it’s out and that he’s finally verbalised it to somebody… it definitely liberates something in his head.
You see his issue with these gatherings; he knows you do because he’s figured out this much. You’re filled with enough empathy, sympathy, every grand word ending on the same syllable to acknowledge his disappointment.
But you’re filled with humour and absurdity, too, evident in the answer you provide to diffuse the tension.
“So, that’s why you’re always in a foul mood.”
“Shu—”
“Shut up, yeah, yeah.” You giggle, but then halt for a moment, toying with the rim of your paper cup, “But you know, I think art is worth something even if just one person appreciates it. If it helps in any way… I’m always impressed. And I always appreciate it when I call you and you come despite finding me so annoying.”
One corner of your lips lifts, the smile humble and light; sends a pang of guilt through him. Have you always been so nice?
“Also, I do see the pictures almost every single time,” you add, “and you’re so good at this. At the job itself and the editing afterwards. Honestly.”
“…You think?”
Damn.
Jungkook would probably not bask in this hobby, continue his job if he wasn’t proficient in what he does. He’s known about his prowess ever since he was young.
But praises do offer a sense of magical warmth, don’t they? He doesn’t think any creative mind ever sickens of such unexpected support. And the way you say it… makes him want to never lay down his camera.
“Of course, yes,” you confirm, “not to shoot up your ego, but… you once sent a set of pictures where I found one of me. Don’t know if you even noticed? I was wearing that lilac dress and curls, I still remember — and—”
Stuck on the mention of your clothing, he immediately attaches a detail to the memory, “Sleeveless dress. Long silver earrings, right?”
“Oh… right…”
Right.
He won’t mention that he looked at that picture for just a second longer than at the others that night. Noticed for the first time how pretty you were. Not too deep of a thought, a twelve second stare, but… you wore this vibrant smile on that picture, and in some way, he did hope you’d see it, too.
It seems you did. He feels satisfied, proud even.
“Right,” you repeat, your defences somehow down, “uhm. I printed the picture. Still have it somewhere.”
Jungkook has already often wondered what people do with the pictures; put them in albums? Frame them and pin them over their couch? Right now, he also wonders — do you look at it a lot?
And this again begs the question — when you do, does your decision to book a vendor like him fill you with pride? Like your choice was right?
“That’s so nice,” he says.
“All that to say,” you inhale, “that I think you’re really fucking skilled.”
Woah. You weren’t quite certain if your consolation would bring him any solace, but you’ve done far more than that. You’ve shown him that you see what he does — and isn’t this what every artist craves? To be seen?
The tension buzzes between him and you like electricity; he doesn’t know if it’s just him lighting up or if you’re feeling a kindred link, too. But it’s somewhat intense in this moment of walking under the stars, surrounded by quietude and absolute pose.
So much so that he’s soon submerged by an odd urge to make the intensity wane, “Hey, does this feel to you like… a cliché chick flick kinda dialogue?”
You know…
The moment when two find an empty street in the middle of the night, realising that a conversation with each other isn’t the end of the world after all?
That type of thing?
But he doesn’t say any of it.
“Yeah? Maybe. But it’s also true,” you argue, “I’m an honest person and I don’t think I’d say anything I didn’t mean.”
“Ah, yeah?” Jungkook voices, taking the emptied out ice cream cup and throwing it into the bin on the side of the road, along with his own.
“Mhm, one hundred percent,” he hears you say, followed by a light, quiet smacking noise.
He doesn’t see what you’re doing until he arrives back where you stand; watches you lick the sticky rest off the pad of your thumb, smiling when you stare up at him again. It’s a mundane gesture; he’s done it ever since he was a kid.
But somehow, he can’t stop looking.
Might be the way your lips curve when you do it, or how your eyes smile when your mouth does. The authenticity you portray is rare; perhaps he just confused it with madness until now.
Seconds pass, and with that, your smile does, too. As it fades and drops, replaced by a curious expression and big eyes, you soon mutter, “What?”
There’s no response to that, really. He doesn’t know either.
He doesn’t understand how you turned out to be so right. How it’s such an ultimate truth that a serene night brings out a dreamy alter ego, hitherto undetected. Jungkook has never felt like much of a romantic, but right now, he thinks he’s on a different plane of reality.
This doesn’t feel like Earth; and the town doesn’t feel like the one he struts through during the day.
So maybe it’s not that wayward or groundless for him to lean in. To bend a bit more. Further and further until you laugh nervously; he knows you’re preparing to crack another joke, but you remain silent as he approaches.
Gauges your reaction. Will you run? You aren’t.
Instead, you gulp; let your pupils fall to his piercings, just when his own gaze moves to your lips. His right hand, tattooed, led by its own will, reaches for your cheek until he’s cupping it; and suddenly, his mouth parts — what’s happening? — and then—
And then, a vehicle roars from afar.
Both of you hear the motorcycle before you even see the blinding white light; he grips your arm, probably too harshly, dodging the street with you and jumping onto the pedestrian walk.
One must be crazy to still drive through the city at this hour. Right?
You pant, mixed with insane chuckles of relief, “Shit. We almost died.”
“We didn’t,” he refutes, “we had plenty of time.”
“Oh no,” you stretch the last word, eyes squinting. An accusing forefinger points at him before you deduce, “We almost died because you like me. Of all things!”
“I do not. You just looked kinda cute.”
Jungkook might’ve attempted an indifferent answer, but instead, he steered into an excuse that you do not accept at all. Your smirk is telling and satisfied, and if he wasn’t trying to prove a point, your Cheshire Cat grin would’ve made him laugh, too.
“But you did almost kiss me,” you persist.
Ugh, you’re bold. Laughing like it means nothing; no embarrassment, no shy restraint in you. Which is probably not too bad; somehow even charming. Explains the rosy dust on his cheeks at least. He feels it in the heat, can’t believe he almost kissed you just now.
Why does he feel like a hormonal adolescent? It’s not like he’s never kissed anybody.
You’re still enclosed by pure delight, nudging his arm repeatedly, annoyingly. And when he doesn’t answer, choosing reticence instead, you nearly shriek, as if he confirmed all you just said.
His instinctive hand slaps up to your mouth, covering it, shushing you. You’re still smiling, working on removing his palm, but before your nonsense can proceed, a sudden light flickers in the corner of Jungkook’s eye.
Immediately, he seeks out the source, soon finding a room in the house left to him lighting up. You woke somebody, it seems. A silhouette becomes clearer, its edges more refined with every second, and just before the owner of the place can shove the curtains aside, you grip Jungkook’s hand.
Within a moment, he finds himself tugged away by you, running, nearly stumbling over his own feet. You blurt, “Better get away before they kill us.”
As you leave the tranquil settlement behind, Jungkook still hears a voice from an open window, cursing the younger generation as they do; and then, out of the damn blue, a fucking dog barks.
When you turn over your shoulder, mouth dropping open, Jungkook knows you’re thinking the same as him — this happens outside of cinematic universes, too?
It takes a minute until you’ve reached another road again; one of the kind he’s more familiar with. The city type. The two of you come to a halt near some pole, and you let his hand go, leaning against it.
For a moment, you work on catching your breath, Jungkook’s hands settling on his thighs. And then, when your eyes meet, you burst into a fit of laughter, followed by a playful wiggle of his eyebrows to which you respond, “Don’t act innocent. This is your fault.”
“What? You were lau—”
“Because of you! Oh, I know you want me so bad.”
You’re jesting, of course. Swaying your head, poking his chest, a brat straight out of some TV show. But what you can do, he’s been perfecting for years.
So he answers in kind, “And if I did?”
Only for you to utter something that not even his brain can compute.
“If you did? Then… I think I’d let you.”
“Ah… Yeah? Why?”
“Because— I think you’re just half as bad.”
His snicker is half amused, half flattered. He purses his lips, nodding, and then declares, “You’re just a quarter as bad. But guess I’ve gotten so tired that I’ve started doing weird shit.”
You click your tongue, puffing out a breath, instantly reacting when he only flicks your chin and then walks away. Your startled expression prevails, a distance between him and you established, but just as he puts his hands in his jeans, he hears you finally follow.
“Hey,” you voice from behind, tapping his arm, “are you really tired?”
“I was kidding, but. Honestly? A little.”
“…Hmm. You know, my friend lives in an apartment nearby. Jieun? Didn’t move too far from her old home. We could stop there.”
Jungkook’s left eyebrow leaps up, surprised by the suggestion; the idea doesn’t sound too bad. But…
“Wasn’t the deal to go around for a whole night, though?”
“Ohhh. Are you starting to like it?”
You’re observant, he’ll give you that.
“I’m just saying,” he adds, “and also, would she just let a stranger in?”
“Oh, she’s very civilised and hospitable. She wouldn’t mind, and she’s known me for ages. She trusts me.” Maybe you detect the hesitation in his eyes and the twitch of the corner of his lips, because you immediately carry on, “We can just stay for an hour and then go.”
“Would she be awake, even?”
“She’s a night owl. I know that.”
“Uhm…”
He ponders. In some way, he’s kind of liking the breeze, the quiet side of this town. But… would Jieun find that weird? Then again, can he say no? You’re ogling at him with these hopeful eyes; maybe you need the rest, after all.
“Okay,” he says; he even thinks you jump a bit in joy, nodding.
“Okay! You’ll like her. We can leave with newfound energy afterwards. Okay, cool.”
That’s all you need to lead the way. You look around a little, making sure you’re approaching the right direction, and when you find your confidence again, you march ahead.
Your walk is energetic, not too idle anymore, your beam as dashing and fervid as ever. Jungkook knows his way around editing programs; he’s added wings to pictures before or removed unwelcome passersby on an otherwise great photo.
He even understands how to surround a body or silhouette with a glow; but he’s never seen it around an actual person outside of all these graphics editors before.
Your body is so clearly encircled by it.
Bedazzling.
Screw the 18th century. Even in these modern times of advancement, Jungkook doesn’t think he needs a camera to commit you to memory.
3:25AM, Her
You avert your eyes from the phone and turn towards Jungkook, reaching him where he’s planted firmly in front of the apartment complex. He’s been waiting, back settled against the wall, and as you near, his eyebrows rise in question.
Your friend didn’t respond until now — but just as you foretold, she’s still awake at this ungodly hour.
“Okay. She’s home, but,” you explain, already ringing the bell to her apartment, “she said she’d be leaving soon. Sounds like she’s in a rush. Typos and all.”
Jungkook waits until the buzzing sound of the opening door ceases and you’ve stepped inside, leading him up the stairs, and then wonders again with big eyes, “And she’ll just let us stay? Alone at her apartment?”
You wave his concerns off with a hand’s gesture, “She trusts me, dude. I’ve done this a couple times.”
“What for?”
Hm… you dive back into the old days. Some new, some old. What were they again? They’re mostly blurred, but some of them are carved in your core memory.
“Oh, just…” you reminisce. “If I wanted to meet guys and wouldn’t want to bring them home back when I was still with my parents? Or when I’d need a night to sober up. They would’ve killed me if I’d come home drunk. And Jieun moved out early.”
“How old is… Jieun anyway?”
Old. Not really, but you like to vex her to the point of a pout. She’s patient, but she’s also an incredibly close friend — you allow yourself to be a brat with her and she allows herself to roll her eyes.
“Early 90s kid?” you guess. “A little older than us.”
‘93, as far as you remember.
“Ah. Damn,” he voices; you don’t know why.
“Okay.” You climb the last steps to the second floor, halting in front of a white door with a copper number six on top of it. Knock thrice. “Here goes.”
She might’ve been getting ready close to the door, working on her shoes or questing for her keys. Because she opens mere three seconds later, with a radiant smile on her face able to melt hearts, and a comfortable attire that’s, however, not comfortable enough to wear at home.
A thin sweatshirt and a bun, loose strands framing her pretty face, and shorts that are definitely meant to be worn outside. She won’t be here for long. And you’re focused on this very fact and her hurry so much that you nearly don’t register how shy Jungkook gets.
His voice is somewhat smaller than before when he looks at her; your eyes shift to him, and he’s blinking before he finally breaks and mutters, “Oh. Hi.”
“Hey!” she retorts; she looks so sweet saying it. You understand his perplexity. “Date?”
“Nah. Just a friend,” you answer, which, yet again — very confusing — makes him hum in question. If he started regarding himself as your date all of a sudden, you swear…
You smile.
“Just a friend,” you repeat.
“Fabulous. So you’re not walking around alone, at least,” Jieun concludes, letting you in. In the living room, a hand on her kitchen island, she points through an open door, “Okay, so, the guest room bed is made. Use blankets on it, if you want to rest.”
Her finger shifts to signal to the entrance you came through, imitates a pulling motion, “Don’t worry about locking the door whenever you leave. Also got some leftover food in the fridge, but there’s also cup ramyeon and some frozen pizza in the freezer. Sorry… I need to go shop—”
But you interrupt, shaking your head, “Oh, no worries, really. We just ate, so we’ll just stay here for a little, work off the food coma and leave. Won’t damage anything.”
“I know you won’t, baby.”
She moves to fetch her purse from the couch, and Jungkook uses the moment to whisper in your ear, “Where is she going anyway?”
You don’t know; you shrug your shoulders, pursing your lower lip, but echo his question a moment later, louder than him, “Where are you going anyway?”
Previously cramming in her purse, checking it for content, she looks at you again, telling you, “Ah… Jongsuk is having a bad night and wants me to come over.” Regarding Jungkook, she adds, “My boyfriend. He’s an insomniac and got stoned tonight, too, and just—”
Jieun blows a raspberry, raising a hand for a whatever gesture, and Jungkook mumbles, “Oof. Sounds…”
“Yeah… I know. In any case. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you so much.”
“Thanks, Jieun,” you repeat.
She nods once more, waving her tiny hand and flashes one last smile before she’s out the door and has left you in full silence. You shuffle your feet for just a second before you look at him again; he still looks somewhat in a daze.
So you ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing.”
Nothing, right… that’s what they all say after seeing Lee Jieun for the first time. You try not to think too hard about the teeny tiny sting in your enormous, delicate heart. Only let him know, “Don’t worry too much. What could happen? She does trust me.”
You take a couple steps towards the bedroom she offered you, and you hear him follow. Look at the neatly made bed, a thought occurring; but you don’t entertain it yet. Only add, “Besides, she owes me.”
He chuckles. “That’s how you live your life, huh?”
“It’s alright. We’ll just be here for an hour. She’s known me all her life, so nothing to doubt here. And also, think about it,” the tip of your forefinger taps against your temple, “even if something did happen or went missing, she’d know where to find me and whom to report.”
He waits, ogles at you. Then presses his lips together, nods as if you made all the sense in the world, and lifts a shoulder — agreeing, “If you say so. Then uhm — let’s lay down for a bit?”
“Sure! I’ll just sleep in her room, so you can have your privacy here.”
“Mhm. Okay.”
You stand at the door frame for a moment, feet unmoving.
He’s already turned away. And you regret not walking away when you watch him unabashedly take off the blazer and provide a glimpse to his snatched waist as inked fingers scratch his back briefly, shirt moving up. But then it’s covering his skin again.
Flawless back; pretty golden. A little further up, and you’re sure you would’ve seen strong shoulder blades, too. He’s worn fancy dress shirts at luxurious events before — you know many would kill for his built, because you’ve seen his bicep flex before.
You forget where you are for a second, but when he opts to turn, eyes on you for just a heartbeat, you stir. Blurt out an awkward apology, and then leave. Wish him a good night, barely waiting for one back before you close the door.
You laugh quietly at yourself.
Her room is just next door; you already mentally prepare for a nap. Meanwhile, Jungkook plumps onto the bed, groaning when the comfort hits, and works on getting used to the ceiling, if only briskly.
He only notices how much his head is spinning when he closes his eyes, ready to doze off. Should he set an alarm? He doesn’t want to still be here by the time Jieun returns. Maybe he should tell you, too.
But his body won’t move.
Yet, in the time he’s failed to make up his mind, he suddenly hears a knock at the door again. Must be you — must be telepathy.
He tells you to enter, and you do with a shy demeanour; only thirty seconds must have passed, right? A minute, tops. He looks at you in wonder, and you explain, “She uh— locked her room. No clue where the keys are. Guess that’s why she specifically pointed out the guest room.”
You nibble your lip, getting no answer back. He looks just as much out of ideas as you, and you still refuse to bring back the thought from before; yet, you ask, “What do we do now?”
“Well…” He looks around, though there is not much to take in. “I can sleep on the couch?”
“…The couch is too small.”
“Okay. Then I’ll just sleep on the floor.” He’s already working on getting up, no hesitation, scratching through his now messy hair, feet moving on the fluffy carpet. “I’ll take one of those pillows, though. Carpet should be good eno— what are you doing?”
You’ve charged towards the bed, climbed past him until you’re sitting behind him, facing his back and his craning neck. You say, “I’m not giving you that pillow.”
“Why?”
“You can’t sleep on the floor.”
“…Why not?”
You throw an unbelieving look, as if it’s obvious. Your flat hand gestures towards the carpet vaguely, and you argue, “It’s uncomfortable.”
“Listen, I should. This or the couch, nothing else left.” It’s crazy to you how he doesn’t even consider the bed instead of giving it up for you. “It’s just an hour. Don’t worry about it.” He stretches a hand towards you, curling his fingers in a grabby motion. “Come on. Gimme that.”
You’re astonished — beyond pleased about the fact that he cares like this. That he’s so… mindful and humble. You give up; he won’t falter and you know.
“Okay… then take this blanket, too.”
He grabs the second one that Jieun provided, head bowing a little as he says, “Thank you.”
The proceeding minutes you spend preparing for bed, slightly discomforted by your dress, pass in half-awkward, half-comfortable silence. He lays down on his unusual spot, and you cuddle into the blanket on your light, soft side.
As the rustling of blankets and sheets subsides, it gives way to the sound of the ticking clock; you focus on it, count the clicks like sheep.
But sleep doesn’t quite fall upon you yet, and you guess Jungkook feels similar when he calls your name and asks, “What does she owe you?”
Your head moves towards his voice, even though he can’t see you. “Huh?”
“Jieun. What does she owe you? And your coworker.”
“Oh. Uh. Honestly, just kindness.”
You can already see it — doe eyes rolling at another one of your cryptic answers. You know people don’t fathom your thoughts very well, and some feel annoyed by your dreamy outlook of the world. You don’t mind, but you wonder what he’s thinking.
But all he responds with is, “What?”
“Well, just. They’ve known me for ages. I’ve been there for Jieun for so long, and Jongin has always been so incredibly nice to me. Picked me up when I was dead drunk once and brought me home. Got me medicine and everything. And I’ve lent him some comfort over the years, too.”
It hasn’t been too long, so you remember. You’ve been good friends with him ever since you started your job; a steady part of your team. He and you have got each other’s back.
“These two are friends,” you say, “and I think kindness is the most we can give our loved ones.”
Jungkook hesitates. Have you bored him to sleep? Or is he pondering your words, thinking of you as weird? Maybe not—
Because he actually converses, asking, “You think? Doesn’t that mean we’re just kind to them then, so they can be kind to you in return?”
“I mean… yes and no. Owing might be the wrong word. I’m not nice to others to get something back. I’m like this because I want to be and because the world can be shitty and it’s important to be nice, and in return, I want people to be nice to me, too. It’s not an eye to eye kind of thing, it’s just about. Spreading affection in relationships. It’s what they’re here for.”
“…Hm. Is this why you’re never rude to me? Even when I deserve it,” he asks, registering a hum. “You know… you think really… uniquely.”
This is a nice way to phrase it at least. People like you; you’re good with them. But sometimes, they can be mean, too. Not that you mind. It’s natural — people occur in all types and shapes.
“But is it unique, though? Isn’t it a given?” you question.
“Yeah, probably, I just— never thought of it this deeply.”
“Mmmh. So is me thinking uniquely a compliment? I can’t say.”
He laughs, and you join immediately, exclaiming an, “I’m serious!” in the middle of it all. Jungkook’s snicker is authentic, so you enjoy hearing it; but you like his answer even better.
“Maybe. I just… I feel like a lot of people try to be different these days. Or play a role to be perceived a certain way? But I think you’re genuine — you actually mean the things you say without any hidden intention to make people forcefully like you, right?”
An intention? Oddly phrased. You think, though… that what he said was nice.
Still, you confirm, “I don’t try to be anyone for people to like me.”
“I didn’t say otherwise! This is actually just what I meant. Besides, people like you anyway because you’re you.” As if he’s reading your mind. “That’s what I was saying.”
You hum, blinking at the ceiling and the little modern light hanging there, the beam off. The darkness pleasant. You conjure another question and ask, “So you think me being me is a good thing?”
You always considered it was. You like being you. But Jungkook didn’t like whatever makes up your personality — has this changed? Apparently.
“Of course,” he surprisingly answers, “it’s always a good thing. And just because I disagree with some of your characteristics, it doesn’t mean everybody will.” Oh. Well. But wait— “Or maybe, I’m just a moaner.”
Well.
“That you are,” you verify.
“Damn.”
“But, but— you’re kind, too, you know? Not everyone says the things you just said.”
“Maybe.”
“So…” you stall, rethinking his prior words. “Do you still disagree with all those characteristics of mine?”
Another joyous sound tumbles out of him, much in the form of a breather than a laugh; hushed, but you still hear it clearly. Perhaps you’re being a little awkward; but in all honesty, you hope he’s just finding it amusing, somewhat cute.
“I mean — you’re too blunt. But brave, like, I could never. The thing you did at the shop? Never. But this isn’t bad. And you aren’t bad.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His voice is a whisper. Reminds you of a feeling akin to temptation; your mind automatically imagines the susurrating sound near your ear, exhaling the very syllable he just did. Frankly, you’re absolutely tortured by the knowledge of him being this close.
That you could probably touch his face if you rolled over to the edge of the bed, letting your arm dangle, seeking his skin. That he’s in the same room, talking to you this gently, saying things that a girl doesn’t hear too often these days anymore.
There it is. The intrusive thought from before… prevailing.
And you’re tortured by it. But mostly, by the image of him standing in front of you between the houses just a little time ago, staring at you, pupils flitting back and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he neared you. How he almost kissed you.
You might’ve joked about it then, but deep down, and especially now, you’re intrigued by the idea. Of the fantasy of a what if — what if he’d actually kissed you?
Taking a deep breath, you look to the side, staring at the door and call, “Hey, Jungkook.”
“Hm?”
“Is it uncomfortable down there?”
“Uh… a little.”
You shuffle at your spot, turning to the side. “Just thinking. What good does it do if we don’t rest well? What are we here for?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Pause. Quietude. You close your eyes, then open them again.
You’re never shy; so you don’t deem it an advantage for yourself to turn timid now either. You tell him, “Come up. I know you want to. I know I want you to.”
He doesn’t say anything; you bite your tongue. Maybe it was a mistake. But then his voice chimes again, wondering, “Are you sure?”
Your answer is immediate.
“Of course. Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay… okay.”
As he starts to move, you gulp. You make place on the bed, moving to your previous side, pushing the blanket aside in case he wants to slip under it, too. The motions of his silhouette seem uncertain as he makes his way up to you, as if he’s uncomfortable with it.
“I… Was I wrong…? Do you not want to?” you make sure.
“What?” you hear him say; see his head shake. “Ah, that’s not it. Just want to make sure you’re really okay with it. I’m not the type of guy to…”
“I know. It’s fine. I don’t think you are.”
“Okay.” The mattress bulges where he lays down before it evens out again. He emits a couple groaning sounds, probably glad to give his back something proper. You turn to him just when he says, “Honestly… that’s a little better, yeah.”
“Thought so. Are you tired?”
“Definitely.”
“But you’re not sleeping.”
“Because you’re talking.”
Wrong. There was enough silence for him to nod off before. He was the one who started the conversation at all; you were ready to turn and toss and rest eventually.
When you don’t respond, his head turns on his pillow, too; in the darkness that you got used to, you see his eyes twinkle. Both of you know that you’re looking at each other. And he’s kind of close — closer than you thought.
And… if you’re not wrong, he just inched nearer only a nanomoment ago. He repeats in a whisper, once more accusing, “You’re talking, that’s why.”
“That’s really why, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“The only reason there really is?”
“What else could there be?”
You smile, brazen, letting out the courage you’ve gathered, “Well, I know what else it is for me.”
“Yeah?”
Daring a step further, you graze his shirt featherlightly; you don’t know whether he notices. Not until he moves his hand, fingers ghosting near yours.
Waiting until you reveal with sheer, sudden heart palpitations, “I… I want you to kiss me. You do, too, don’t you?”
He inhales, but doesn’t exhale. What does it mean? You don’t know.
You don’t know what it is until you hear the smile in his words, gentle yet tantalising when he says, “…I do.”
“Good. Good. Then kiss me.”
And the rest proceeds without hesitation and without another plea.
His body moves as if on its own accord; he seems possessed, or controlled by a puppeteer. Warm lips lock with yours before you can draw another breath.
They feel soft, full, like tiny pillows, a contrast to the metal of his piercings. And they move gently, so carefully, like he’s still scared of crossing a line despite your permission. But when you lean into him, hoping for more proximity, he blossoms a little. Initiates more.
Oh, he, too, has been waiting for this, hasn't he?
A hand, nearly as warm as his kiss, slithers up to your face, holding you closer to him. The bangs that so often cover his forehead are tickling yours now, his head tilting to give his cute nose more space.
And with that, he deepens the kiss, too. Dares a step further, separating your lips with his, trying things out. He gauges your reaction as the tip of his tongue sneaks its way into the mix, and the moment you do the same, he dives in properly.
Kisses you just a little harder, tasting you, sighing into the movements as if all the weight of the world has dropped off his shoulders. As if he’s relieved, calmed down, resting for the first time tonight.
Yet, at the same time, he’s firing himself up — moving over your body slowly, holding onto your mouth to his best abilities, as if you’d disperse if he let go for too long. As if you’d change your mind.
He cages you in to keep you underneath, not touching your face anymore but shoving his fingers into your already tousled hair. If you were still in your right mind, you’d recognise how insane this situation is. Your younger self would’ve never predicted such a moment to ever become part of your life.
But it is… it is so clearly being played into your hard drive; somehow, you already know it’ll remain stuck in your memory: the way he’s kissing you, so thirsty, so insatiable. How he’s sighing, relaxed, yet sporting an audible heartbeat against your chest.
He uses moments of switching sides to breathe but continues right away; the keenness drives you crazy. You touch his shoulders and then wrap your arms around him firmly, making him hasten closer until he’s nearly falling onto you.
What in the heavenly make out sessions is this…
It’s nasty, yet sweet. Followed by quick breaths; it takes merely a minute until you feel his lower body grinding into you, his jeans tight around his crotch all of a sudden. And the second you realise he’s hardening beneath them, your body reacts.
Reacts so effectively.
Your lower tummy tickles, dampness pooling below as he pushes into you again, harder this time. You moan, enticed by your goosebumps and the heavy bulge. Solid enough for you to crave him within a moment’s notice.
And it only worsens threefold when he whispers, “Fuck… Somebody really knows how to kiss, huh?”
“You’re talking. What was this—” He so rudely interrupts with another peck, and you laugh into it. “Yeah, this…”
Your last word dissipates like candle smoke; you don’t even know why you bother to speak. Your voice is barely perceptible when his teeth remove the short sleeve of your dress, kissing your shoulder and then down to your cleavage.
It’s easy to remove your dress; it’s light, summer-y — but he doesn’t bare you just yet. Plays around at the mounds of your tits until he pushes the neck of the dress down a bit, asking, “May I take it off?”
Oh, if you could count the times you’ve imagined his veiny hands removing this damn dress just in the last fifteen minutes…
“Of course,” you permit, “do I look like I’d reject you?”
“Mmmh.” The hum is proud, satisfied, vocalised amidst another kiss to your clavicles. “Just making sure.”
Soft, warm hands trail up your leg, leaving a path of another set of goosebumps. You want him to stay right there on your thigh, knead the flesh, press into it, showcase the lust he feels in the beguiling pain.
But instead, he pushes up your dress, fingers ghosting over your ass — and when he doesn’t find your panties but only bare skin, he stops kissing you. Looks at you. Makes out the string of your thong a second later — in the dark, you discern the way his lips round in captivation.
He’s loving this.
He tugs at the string and lets it snap back into place; you gasp even though it doesn’t hurt, but it drives you mad when he states, “Wow. Very intriguing.”
Leaving it at this for just now, he kisses you again, tongues mingling once more before he releases a sharp, nearly aggressive hiss and mumbles, “Holy fuck. I can’t stop.”
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” you guarantee.
“Good. Good, good, good.”
The dress surrounds your waist now, stopping below your breasts, and Jungkook journeys down to drag his lips around the spots he hasn’t touched yet. As if he’s trying to familiarise himself with all of you, working towards the goal of memorising you entirely.
His teeth scrape at your pelvis just lightly, seemingly contemplating whether he wants to destroy these panties or not — but then decides against it. You wouldn’t mind; you’re not showing anybody anything of you tonight but him.
And you’re already such a mess; breathing so irregularly, letting out his name and quiet sighs. He should know he could do basically anything. That you’re ready for him.
But instead, he only curses again, sucking at your skin harshly, nails digging into your hips. And then, from below, you hear him say, “Want you to suck my dick so bad.” He moves up, fingertips on your cheek, rubbing himself against your underwear, and questions, “Will you suck my dick, baby?”
Oh, he didn’t just…
Oh, the way the pet name screws with your head is irreversible. You feel sick at the mention, breathing out hard, about to get up at the speed of light to swallow him fully; to the hilt.
But you won’t give him the satisfaction yet; you’ve gotten used to the darkness, and seeing the hazy insanity in his eyes spurs you on to play with him a bit more. So you lift your body, giving him hope, but then say, “I have a better idea.”
“Ah? Where are you going?”
“Wait.”
He quietens. Falls to the side and onto his back as he watches whatever you’re trying to do unfold. You look back at him for just a blink of an eye, but you immediately perceive the hand cupping his clothed dick, moving a bit, up and down.
“Okay. Should work on this first,” you say, straddling him backwards.
You hike up your dress more, baring your back to him, and you instantly hear the breath he releases. Feel the palm touching your spine, grazing it; you imagine huge eyes ogling at you like he’s reached nirvana. You so hope he’s looking at you like this.
“My God…” he only mutters, however, proving your point when he opts to get up. But you turn as much as you can, a flat hand pushing him down again, to which he complains, “What?”
“I told you to wait, silly. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You sure? You’re being pretty mean right now.”
“I’m not being mean. You’re just not patient,” you laugh. “Give me a second and I’ll wreck your world, ‘kay?”
“Ah?”
“Mhm.”
“That I wanna se— oh. Oh.”
Exactly.
Once you’re done pulling off the dress, you shift back, enough for your pussy to align with his gorgeous face. Jungkook instinctively grabs your ass to pull you lower, and you chuckle at the restless gesture.
But you need to focus; and as best and tidily as you can, you unbutton his jeans, zipping them open until you detect his shorts. He raises his hips to help you, and you bite your lower lip, crazed by the sight that awaits you once the jeans are halfway down.
The bulge is big indeed. The imprint is insane; the light from outside allows glimpses, and you salivate, bowing your head to kiss him above his underwear, feeling him stir. And he imitates, blowing against your wetness, his finger — middle one? — curling around the string digging between your ass cheeks.
When he frees your pussy, you feel it. It hits the air in the room coldly, a contrast to his hot breath. A second more and you might drip into his tantalising mouth, just how you’re drooling over the cock you finally set free.
It springs out, veiny under your touch. Hard. Thick and long. Everything good, a fucking ideal package. You scold him, “You’ve been hiding this from me?”
“Huh? I wasn’t hiding.”
“Now I realise just how mean you are, man,” you say, shaking your head, spitting onto the slit before wiping it off again with the tip of your tongue. He swears again. “Could’ve had this make me hoarse so long ago.”
“Fuck,” he replicates, “stop talking, or I’ll fuck this mouth of yours. You want to be hoarse so bad, then try me.”
“Is this a threat? You really think I won’t let you? Stay right there, little—” You look again. “Big man. You can do whatever you want, but wait a second, alright?”
“Nah. You’re not the only one teasing. You brat,” Jungkook whispers sharply, delivering a smack to your ass; you gasp. “I just…”
You don’t know what he just — you only know that he’s attaching his mouth to your cunt right away, thong pushed aside, diving in with a tongue so eager. You squint your eyes shut, lips parting, calling his name as he holds you there roughly.
He soon wraps his arms around your hips, like a belt, lips intense as he kisses you even wetter. The sounds he eludes are dirty, sinful; and the feeling of his piercings doesn’t add to your sanity.
You decide to not let this distract you; he’s competitive, you realised, but you are, too. So you lean in, lips wrapping around the tip. Your right hand enfolds his cock, pumping him, tracing every firm vein that protrudes. He’s so pretty all around.
“Shit,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear; only continue to work your tongue around the head, setting the nerves alight as he’s doing for you.
You kiss down the shaft, licking and humming to create a sort of vibration. And then, you take him in as much as you can. Despite being large, barely fitting, soon hitting your throat, you try. Hollow your cheeks, bop your head, gifting him your attention.
But it’s hard. So hard because—
God, he’s lapping you up so good.
So hungry. Out to kill you as he releases the prior belt, bringing two fingers to your pussy and thrusting them into you slowly. Mouth and digits; both at once. Thumb against the clenching hole between your ass.
He’s distracted every now and then, much like you, but he still maintains a steady pace. Cruel… so cruel. Those damn fingers propelling into you, harder sometimes before they slow down again. Curling to hit you just right, massaging the rough, walnutty spot.
Oh, Jungkook knows… knows exactly what to do.
They don’t make men like him anymore.
Your ass clenches when his skills exceed your expectations and he rubs your insides particularly well, mouth just right above your clit as the tongue circles around it. It’s nearly overwhelming; you could cry with this mouthful of dick impaling your throat.
He feels so good on you. So good in you. You want all of you filled, not just your mouth. So you soon let go with a plop, a string of saliva so lewdly connecting your mouth and his member, and you wipe your mouth.
Tell him, “This should be enough.”
And he agrees immediately, smacking his lips, as if licking up the remnants of his food, “Fuck yes. Enough.”
You want to get into the next position, put in some work, but what you don’t expect is that Jungkook is already planning a step ahead. Tapping your ass with his big manly palm, pushing you off of him until you’re crawling on all fours.
Submitted to him. And you don’t mind a bit — just for now, just for him, you’ll give into this because you’ve been craving it. It’s okay; you vow to yourself that in a while, you’ll wreck his shit just as much.
On your elbows and knees, you hear him shifting, the mattress dipping, his knees nearing you and closing your legs in. The palm covering the right side of your ass causes it to jiggle, and when you push your butt towards his pelvis, he praises, “The way you know what to do without me needing to tell you. How convenient.”
“Well,” you breathe out, “it’s not my first rodeo. But do make it the best… okay?”
“No pressure at all, huh? I’ll try my best.”
You want to react, bring a laugh straight out of your throat, but Jungkook is faster. The reaction comes alright, but not as you wanted it to. But rather in a high-pitched moan, arms quivering when he fists his cock, guiding it to your leaking cunt, and rubs the tip between your pussy folds.
You reckon he’s testing out how eager you already are; you contemplate on telling him. On pleading, on saying something that might drive him to action. You don’t mention a single word, though; only let your ass speak once more, steering towards him until he gets the message.
He must have.
Because he clicks his tongue as if to admonish you for your shortage of patience, though only briefly before he surrenders to the itch you cause. Scratching without hesitation now, he finally helps you lose your damn panties and then dips himself into you slowly.
Of course; with a length like his, there’s no way you’d be able to survive a quick push. Jungkook knows to be cautious, penetrating you sweetly; an oxymoron in a moment like this. Your fingers digging into the sheets reveal as much; there’s not much going on yet, but you’re already holding onto the soundness of your mind so desperately.
“Shit, what the fuck,” you murmur, your turn to let out profanities; you’re sure this isn’t your last. “You scared of something, Jeon? I’m… I have an IUD.”
“Scared? No. You’re not an idiot, right?” he whispers. “You would’ve told me if you couldn’t do it like this. Much rather…” He breathes heavily between his words. “I’m taking you in, y’know? Enjoying — fuck — how wet and warm you are… Gonna wreck you raw, though, no p-problem.”
No, your foul words were certainly not the last for tonight; his dick is just halfway through when he stops and another tumbles out of you. He drags the thickness back, then inside again.
Your walls are occupied to their last inch, and you know you could take all of him if you just gave yourself some time — but somehow, his care turns you on even more.
Goddamn, he’s good. All of him — his dick, his voice, his mouth, his touch. He’s so— nnghh…
You have never witnessed his fingers do much more than take the pictures you love. Whenever he operates the button with his forefinger, flexing the inked crown above his knuckle, you already know the man has a talent unmatched.
But right now… right now you have an entirely different perception of these same digits.
Like, when he leans in a bit, still deep inside you, undoing your bra in a smooth motion. Or when he caresses your back, along your spine, contradicting the touch with a harsher, harder jab now.
And shit, when he pulls your ass cheeks apart, digging in further, fucking through your seeping hole until he’s covered in slick, too. It must look so good to him; incredibly memorable.
Your whimpers are quiet and gentle, matching the way he fucks you, only rising in volume when he decides to push another inch in. You behave; you whine softly; that is until all of a sudden, he pulls back most of his cock and shoots back in, colliding with your ass with a slapping sound.
Yelping, you hold the sheets until your fingers hurt, and he bolts forwards, a hand slamming your mouth shut and muffling your mewls. Way too close to your ear, he says, “Sh sh sh… my God. Jieun has neighbours, babe — don’t spoil her reputation.”
He proceeds to kiss the skin under your ear, taking your arms captive until they’re pinned to your back. Fingers intertwine messily, holding your limbs in place, and as he frees your mouth again, you laugh — it’s all you can do to not feel too weirded out by the mention of Jieun’s name right now.
You tell him, “Use my panties then.”
“Your panties, huh? Do you want me to?” You nod, but he’s not obliging enough to give into your wishes. Teasing you to no end. “Nah. I’ll just…”
Jungkook doesn’t finish the sentence; what he does is much more alluring, nearly forcing tears of lust to your waterline. He grabs the back of your neck, urging you to look at him, and just as you register his face close to yours, he kisses you again.
Your body immediately blossoms. You breathe as much as the kiss allows, yielding to his tongue. Let him push you down and into the mattress, imprisoning you under him. And he kisses you… kisses you… kisses you more…
Basks in your dimmed moans as he hits from behind again, hard. Sheathes himself inside you thoroughly and with impact; he’s enjoying the fact that you want to yell, but need to restrain yourself at this time of the night.
Because he’s right. You don’t want Lee Jieun to earn looks in the morning because of you.
As if provoking you, he blatantly asks, “You good?”
“Yes— yes!”
“Mhm…”
He’s out of breath; can barely emit another word. But he doesn’t waste any moment at all; kisses your neck, bites your earlobe. Pushes his hands under your body to get ahold of your tits. Fucks you into space, lifting one of your hands to your face, entangling his fingers with yours.
You shift up and down the mattress, just a little; the position, with him on you, doesn’t allow too many extreme movements, and you’re more than fine with it. There’s something about him going unhinged on you like this.
But… it does awaken the need to retaliate, too.
So you use the opportunity when he decides to pause, running out of energy, gasping for breath. He leaves you empty and yearning, pulling back and sitting up, and judging from the touch on your tummy, you assume he wants to flip you on your spot.
Instead, however, you turn on your own accord, both palms that he held captive minutes ago shoving at him. He produces a strange sound as he falls backwards, landing on the mattress and onto the pillow with big eyes that almost don’t fit his Greek God-esque physique.
Goodness, the damp dark hair. The abs. The pecs. The nipples…
You might dribble onto his sweaty, shiny skin. And you don’t veil your innermost thoughts this time, straddling him as you say, “My turn. Need to ride you so bad.”
He visibly relaxes; leads his fingers to your hips, thumb drawing patterns on them. His tongue darts out to play with the lip rings, and he eyes you up and down. He’s taking you in for the first time properly, just as you are him.
Just as your eyes drifted over his muscular body, he now makes stops along the journey — your pussy on the length of his cock. The tits and the perked nipples. The ruined hair, sticking to your collarbones.
You wonder how he likes what he sees.
Probably enough if he can respond with something like, “I won’t stop you.”
Good to know.
So you take a comfortable seat on top of him, still keeping him down, lining up your sex with his. When you welcome him in again this time, you do so fully. No slow torture, no waiting. You claim your throne until your ass hits his hardened balls.
He says, not quite expecting an answer, so you don’t give one, “You’ll kill me today, right?”
And then you start. Put in all the effort you can gather. He feels heavenly inside you, the perfectly curved length moving just the way it needs to. His groans and calls of your names sound promising, telling; you suppose you’re doing a good enough job if his eyes roll back like this.
The hands on your hips push into your flesh more, and when you remove one and bring it to your mouth, sucking his forefinger with your eyes set on him, he loses his shit. Starts pumping up from below, meeting your up-and-down ministrations.
“Shi— what— do you think,” he attempts, stagnant breathing, “you’re doing…”
But he’s grunting in ardour, so you don’t stop; don’t let him take over fully just yet. No — you roll your hips, bend your back, catch a patch of his hair and then angle your body to crash your lips onto his.
The kiss weakens his defences. For a moment, you do feel his nails bruising your skin, but another second later, his touch is as soft as a feather. He’s so ultimately at your mercy that he lets you trace his abs and kiss his pecs.
Lets you get into a crouch, your palms settling below his chest for support. And then… then you navigate north and south, repeatedly, fucking him into you with vigour. He throws his head back, but then looks at you again, blinking fast before his eyes squint shut once more.
“The fuck are you—” he tries, but you start circling his cock again, moving in eight-curves, seeking support in his biceps.
“What?” you voice. “Not good?”
“You fucking— kidding me?” His lower lip trembles when he parts his mouth. You see it even with the lights dimmed. “This is such… a good fucking pussy. I was an idiot to push you aside.”
You’re too dazed to really pout, but you do hear the undertone; ask to clarify, “You’re just saying that f-for… getting my pussy, huh?”
“What— no. Fuck no. Look at me.” His hand reaches out, fingers poking into your cheeks, and he pulls you down to him, makes you meet his eyes. You slow down. “I wouldn’t just do this for any pussy— I… not with you. I don’t just. I don’t just go home with anybody. ‘Kay?”
His words bloom in your chest like a bouquet of flowers. In such a vulgar moment, you shouldn’t be feeling like this, but you can’t help but acknowledge the warmth spreading throughout your body. Burning up your already aflame muscles.
You want to know more; so you query sneakily, “What does this mean?”
“What it means?” he echoes, words blurry, as if drunk. “That you’re beautiful. And… honestly, kind of cool. So annoying but so fucking funny and— hot—”
“I am? Look at this,” you say, still moving but tired; touching his face, his cheeks, his sweet nose, “look at you…”
“No.” He grits his teeth. You don’t know what comes over him, but he’s inhaling way too deeply, lightly aggressive again as he retorts, “Look at fucking you.”
And with that, he gets what he desired earlier; flips you over, climbing over you. With your shield lowered, you didn’t expect this, and now you’re right where you began. And for some reason, the sharp jaw, the furrowed eyebrows, the starved look hits you even harder than before.
The many inches he sports fell out as he took over, but as he plunges into you again with embarrassing ease, something feels different. How he looks at you. How he touches you, pushing your hair back, kissing your lips with such softness.
And how he holds you when you finally see the stars you waited for, his face in your neck, his thumb on your cheek, his palm on your jaw. Kissing your shoulder, delighted as you seek an anchor in his back, tightening around him impossibly as he fucks you through your high and your broken moans.
“Jungkook—” you repeat over and over, and in return, he mutters constant, “I know, I know.”
Again and again and again until his sounds become more uncurbed. Only syllables, rumbling, his chest vibrating against yours until he lifts himself up and retracts his cock.
His pupils shake as he jerks himself off, and you know what he’s seeking, quickly getting to your knees, helping out. You replace his hand with yours, sticking out your tongue before you engulf his dick rapidly.
In surprise, he lets out, “Oh, fff—”
Shit, how he sounds. And how wicked he feels in your mouth, tasting like you, tasting like him. Wet and slippery, his balls hard when you cup them. And then— a mere moment later, he’s shooting ropes of white down your throat.
You’ll never get used to the feeling. You didn’t with your exes, didn’t with any other guy you’ve been with. It’s sudden, your gag reflex kicking, but you don’t want to stop until he has.
Sticky and hot, you let him; look up to him. His jaw glimmers due to the sheen of sweat, and he holds your hand to keep himself upright. Nearly growls when he’s done, and then calms down bit by bit. Pulls out of you. Plumps back onto his ass.
Catches his breath; and once the two of you have relieved your burning lungs, you with your legs under your butt, you look at each other again. A sudden laugh. He lets his head drop onto his shoulder, and then shakes it before getting back on his knees, nearing your joyous form.
The last kiss of the night is endlessly more chaste. No tongue, no making out. Just a couple pecks, a hand around the nape of your neck, noses grazing. Once, twice. And then, he’s smiling again.
You tell him, “Can’t believe this actually happened.”
“Crazy… right?”
“Crazy, yeah. We…” You gulp. “We can leave it right here, though. Guess we were both riled up.”
He nods, humming, looking to the side. “We could. But we don’t have to. It felt too good to forget, you know?”
You gleam and glow; if you could, you’d curl your fingers into fists, screeching like an excited high schooler in her room, acknowledged by a crush. But you only press your lips together, corners twitching up, cheeks hot.
Then, you say, “You know what… I might just agree.”
“Good.” Another one of his stares to the side, through the door of the room. “You think we should very quickly and very harmlessly use Jieun’s shower? She probably wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t think she would. But she’d certainly know what happened.”
“Least of our concerns,” he argues, getting up stark naked. He pats your thigh and then tugs at your arm, adding, “We’ll be tidy. And then we can rest a bit and leave. Am too fired up anyway.”
You know things might change again once you’ve slipped into your clothes and walked out into the night air. Perhaps the passion was reserved for this very room, actually a result of unbridled lust and tension.
But you think it’s okay. It’s okay as you giggle in the shower, flirting and bantering.
Because even if you part from Jeon Jungkook and all this as just a saccharine memory, you’re ready to seize just a little more of this stolen moment before reality sets back in.
5:12AM, Him
Whether it’s the numbers glowing on his digital watch or the fact that the two of you didn’t rest as much as you’d anticipated after all, he doesn’t know.
The residual heat of the past hour has warmed his body and relaxed his muscles; your touches still haunt him, crawling over his skin and sitting on his knees, tempting them to buckle. And your voice, your sounds… like a ghost in his mind.
And you urging him to climb the nearby hill with you, surprisingly steep, doesn’t help. He doesn’t know why you’d choose such a place at such an hour. The occasional forest around you is dark, chirping, and the road is empty.
Perhaps you feel secure in the presence of another; in this sense, it’s even flattering that you trust him this much.
But he’ll admit that his still wobbly condition and this stop of the night are slowly bringing him to his limits. The blazer, at least, is already hanging over his arm, giving him more space to breathe.
You’re piloting the way, careful, navigating with the help of the light beaming from the occasional street lamps. Jungkook sighs in a half-complaint when the road doesn’t end, nobody around far and wide.
You’re similarly out of breath when you turn to look over your shoulder, barely for a moment before you continue to escort him further up. Then, you encourage, “Come on! We just rested. How are you already tired?”
“Woman. We’ve been walking for a pretty long time.”
“Uhmmm,” you exclaim, swaying when you pull your hair over your left shoulder, “tell me something. What’s your sleep schedule usually like?”
Well, shit.
Jungkook can already tell what you’re referring to, but the counterargument already sits ready in his brain, just in case. Yet, he hesitates. Studies his surroundings to make sure he knows the way back, stalling on purpose, and when you ask, “And?”
He answers, “Uh. Late. I slept at 7AM just last week.”
“What?!” Your voice is high-pitched, in disbelief, and whatever point you wanted to make is stuck in your throat upon the revelation he divulged. “Holy shit, Jungkook.”
“Yeah, but like,” he immediately works on justifying, making use of the comeback he’d already thought out, “I don’t walk around town, you know? I spend these nights eating or singing or—”
“Woah. You sing?”
“Yes, but. I will not sing to you now.”
He catches up with you in one long step, regarding your countenance. Even in the dim light and the pitch dark, he recognises the roll of your eyes, as if to say, “I wasn’t even going to ask.”
But instead of vocalising that very overt thought, your answer comes as smoothly as silk, “It’s fine. You sang to me plenty tonight.”
Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, disguising his surprise as in the hike reasoned exhaustion. His mind needs a moment to fix itself, but when the balance is restored again, he wisecracks, “You’re one to talk. May I remind you of what you sounded like earlier?”
“You can. But I do remember myself, thank you.”
Damn it. You’re a step ahead all the time. He can’t even outsmart you the way he wants to.
“Way to diss me. You’re hardcore,” he complains, “and here I thought you were kind and sweet and all of that.”
Jungkook nearly retracts his statement, because you throw such a perplexed and disbelieving stare back that he shrinks, reprimanded, “Can’t I be both? A woman can certainly be both, man.”
“Of course,” he agrees, hands up as if he’s being arrested, “of course. You’re both, for sure.”
He anticipates more scolding and scowls, but it seems you’re satisfied with the response he gives. You grant him a pleased, lopsided smirk that resembles his own, and then sigh into the night air, long and deep before your breath morphs into—
A mixture of a gasp and a shriek.
“Wh—” Jungkook blurts, barely registering the movement scurrying from the left side of the forest into the trees right of him. “The fuck.”
And just as fast as your gasp appeared, it diminishes, too, turning into a throaty laugh. Jungkook listens in to the echo of the rustles, still seeing the bushes move; whether because of the animal that just flit past or the breeze, he can’t say.
His eyebrows shoot up when he looks at you, coming down from the quiet chuckle, and he only realises that your elated joy stems from the way he’s standing right now.
He must’ve instinctively dashed forward, an arm in front of your body, shielding it with his. It was just a squirrel, and in all honesty, it is the two of you who are trespassing, disturbing the forest life with your presence at such a time.
Yet, his reaction must’ve been immediate enough to protect you from whatever loomed in the dark, and you seem to like it for some reason. Because as he clears his throat and lets his arm sink, all you comment is a fascinated, content, “Wow.”
“Uh… all good.”
“Yes. All good indeed.”
Your voice is tinged with a combination of gratification and tease, as if you’re one utterance away from adding a little, “My knight in shining armour.”
Instead, you bite your tongue and look around; Jungkook sees what you perceive a mere moment later. The surroundings clear, the forest less dense; on the left side, a vast opening appears, a wide path ending in a… cliff?
And behind that, the town.
If there was a soundtrack to his life, he’d probably hear violins playing right now. Reminiscent of the wind, perhaps accompanied by piano keys that sound like the softly glimmering stars above.
The picture is breathtaking. Not that he hasn’t been at such a spot before — he grew up in a big, mountainous city.
But since he didn’t expect for the hill’s peak to allow such art, he’s a little more overwhelmed than he expected to be.
From behind, he hears you say, “In any case. Let’s rest here?”
“Uh-huh.”
It’s hard to avert his eyes. All night long, he’s only felt like this once; this marks the second time.
Gratefully, he walks up to where you’re making yourself comfortable, flattening your dress and settling your bag on your lap. You pull a thin, short cardigan out of it, slipping into it. It’s certainly cooler up here.
And then, you pat the spot next to you, and he lets himself fall with a sigh; it’s been a long night, and despite the restful-not-restful hour you spent at Jieun’s, it feels as though he’s truly easing up just now.
Jungkook puffs out a breath and takes another look. Properly this time, blinking as if this could help his eyes focus better. Gorgeous. He can see the river from here, flowing through the town in curves, like a snake.
He can’t see the entire city, but most of it; it goes up and down. Skyscrapers and then cosy houses like the ones before again. Mountains far away and the lights of the amusement park somewhere in the east. They’re the brightest of them all.
“Wait,” he says; you oblige, waiting, watching as he heaves the camera out of his bag.
He only registers you from his side vision, but he thinks you’re wearing a smile; confirmed when you breathe to speak again, and his eyes drift to you, immediately decoding the pride in your sparkling pupils.
Why do you look proud? Then again, he guesses he would, too, if he showed you something that he loved and you enjoyed it, too.
Thinking about it, he kind of wants to do it someday.
He pulls at his lower lip, releasing it soon, blinking again as if to release the thought. Instead, he listens as you ask, “You’ve never been here before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hidden spot then.”
“It’s beautiful. Look there,” he points to a spot that you carefully follow, even squinting an eye shut; it makes him smile. “That’s the ferris wheel in the amusement park. Can you see? Wait.”
The camera comes to use when he points the lens at the direction he signalled towards, nimble hands working on zooming in. The picture unfocuses before the lights of the amusement park flicker again.
It’s late, he thinks; then again, the summer is coming to an end, the last nights used to keep such attractions open late. September will bring forth grey clouds again, leaving behind the prior season’s heat. Raining down on him, forcing the leather jacket out of his closet.
He likes it that way.
No offence to the summer whatsoever; but he likes the fresh gust dishevelling his soft hair. Likes it when the rain patters against the window glass so softly. He sleeps better that way, too.
Barely sitting for a moment, Jungkook already gets to his feet, nearing the edge until he’s kneeling on the ground. The distance has only faded by a couple feet, not much of a difference. But the feeling of the city nearing still persists somehow, tickling his mind just right.
He doesn’t know how long he squats there against the backdrop of the luminescent sea, but when he comes back to you, you’re still sporting that excited smile, eyebrows high. Your eyes fall to the camera, humming when he says, “Look. There.”
He magnifies the picture, every spot of it good enough to pin against the living room wall. Carefully, he hands you the camera; surprising, because he regards this pricey piece of plastic as sacred. You probably don’t know how big of a deal it is that he lets you handle it.
If you did, you’d never let him live it down.
You scoot closer, your temple now nearly touching his. You stare with an interest he hasn’t witnessed too often before. People do not care much about pictures of scenery; in the age of media, how could they anyway? When every stock picture is already memorised and used to the point of insignificance?
But you — your mouth parts as you switch around, taking in details.
“Good?” he asks.
“Beautiful,” you sincerely mutter, returning the camera to him. You hold it like a kitten; perhaps you do know what the gesture meant. “This is exactly why I wanted us to come here.”
The moment is so serene, like balm, and he nods along with your words, calmly conversing. So it takes a heartbeat to truly untangle your words in his mind and tie them with the meaning your intention conveys.
He assumed you were just showing him random spots of the town, to allow him a glimpse into your mind and to crack your true nature. All this time, he thought you wanted to lead him to bright spaces to lighten up his perception of you.
But what you’re doing instead is turn the spotlight towards him and what he loves.
“You… did it for me?” he asks.
You, casually, as if the thoughtful act doesn’t flood him with serotonin, reply, “Yeah. To capture a couple pretty pictures. You really do love it, so.”
“I do… wow, thanks.” He pauses. Looks down to the buttons on his camera, to his hands; then back to you. “You thought of it all, right? The nice places and the short rest at Jieun’s. Now this.”
“Hmm, tried as much as possible so spontaneously.”
“Thank you. Really.”
You return his gratitude with a polite nod, leaning away until you touch the backrest of the bench. Jungkook indulges in some more that nature offers, toying with the settings, zooming in just to observe sights from a closer point.
He doesn’t notice when you sigh or when you zone off; or when your thoughts shift back to the minutes and hours of the night. He doesn’t notice; and in return, you don’t know that he’s still thinking about the intention that brought him here; that you were attentive enough to truly show that some people appreciate art.
There aren’t only fleeting nights and then forgotten memories. Because this… this right here is a core memory.
Because of you.
Are you thinking the same? Are you proud that his enmity has faded, replaced by a tender smile? Satisfied that your efforts were worth it after all — a goal reached that you set for yourself earlier tonight.
Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again.
But…
He’d love to talk to you again.
However, your mind hasn’t quite drifted in this direction; in truth, he honestly can’t analyse or interpret you at all, because the question you pose next is far from what he’d been thinking about.
“Talking about pretty… uhm. Did you think Jieun was pretty?”
Jungkook blinks. One eyebrow cocks up; the camera drops back onto his lap. He flashes you a squinted look, a confused laugh erupting before he asks back, “What?”
“Ah, don’t lie. She’s very pretty.”
“Sure? She is.”
He’s nearly forgotten what she looked like. But beauty is still perceived and remembered — he guesses he found her good-looking.
“And she’s everyone’s type,” you prod, “what do you think, though? If she didn’t have a boyfriend, could you imagine liking her?”
Jungkook thinks about it. Not because he wants to, but because you seem to have found an odd interest in whatever attracts him; maybe your questions are leading up to something. So he’ll play along.
“Hmm… Maybe,” he answers.
“So she is your type.”
Or maybe, you’re trying to get something out of him that you want to hear specifically. You seem so shy about it all of a sudden; not necessarily an adjective he’d assign to you.
And coming from you of all people, he somehow does not find the topic interesting. It’s weird; he doesn’t want to talk about it; he doesn’t care about Jieun, either.
So he shrugs his shoulders indifferently, lifting his camera up again. He points it at you, eternalising your surprised expression just when you open your mouth to leave out a shocked, “Hey!”
“That’s what you get for asking such strange stuff.”
“It’s not strange! I’m just small-talking.”
“You do not small-talk.”
“It could be a deeper conversation if you just admitted it.”
He chuckles, turning his body towards you, half his leg on the bench, “Admit what?”
“The type thing!”
“Sure. I don’t just have one type, though, you know?”
The dispute brought your bodies a little closer, your face far enough for him to still identify his surroundings, but near enough for him to see your eyes twinkling. The light is dancing in them. And it’s much easier to focus on it when you silence like this.
Just for a second.
Because you breathe in again ten seconds later, lightly slapping the thigh resting on the bench. The touch is cursory, tiny, nothing to overthink about — but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to linger.
In some way, it still does.
You ask, “Okay? What are your types then?”
“Different girls.” This time, only one shoulder shoots up. His eyes match his pensive hum. “Whoever suits me. Pretty girls but also nice girls. Especially nice girls.”
“Alright, be honest,” you begin, mimicking his position until your leg lifts onto the bench, knee nearly touching his. You’re warming up now. Finally spitting the true question soon, “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Cute.
But he’s not giving in this easily.
He smirks; he feels the dimple on one side of his lopsided smile the moment you look at it. You’re distracted enough — so he uses the mental absence to attack you with yet another picture.
For a couple blinks, you’re startled — but as he reacts to his own nonsense with a content chortle, proud of his prank, you sigh. His shoulders rise with his sneering joy, head low as he inspects the picture just taken on his camera.
He zooms into your face, mouth open and eyes wide. You do look so pretty, he thinks — better even since you washed most of your make up off. Yet, he can’t contain himself when he shows you the screen, telling you, “You look alright.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes and your gaze to the view; your giggles start quietly, and then mix with his. Before—
They soon become part of a bad harmony as more voices join your very own night. Somebody is nearing. Jungkook hears the laughter already, but the road is curved and dark; so he can’t see them yet.
You might not have expected this, because you push closer to Jungkook on reflex; just at the same time as him. He didn’t know he had it in him to always stay so alert around you. Ready to throw himself at intruders.
Crazy.
But once the voices grow in volume, the two of you are soon met with a couple walking past. They’re in love, because amidst their titter, there’s another lewd sound. Or maybe, not too bad; playful kisses?
Yes.
The guy — he’s smooching his girl’s cheek, releasing with a, “Mwah” each time. Your initial surprise soon fades and turns into delight; Jungkook sees it in the way your smile returns. And in the furrowed yet amused eyebrows…
When the couple spots the two of you, they gasp; the girl’s hand immediately bolts to her chest, as if she just encountered a wild boar. But she catches herself soon, apologising, “Oh. Sorry. We’re sorry.”
You respond with an, “It’s okay!” Jungkook shakes his head politely to shrink their worries. They’ve walked away as soon as they came, but he still hears the woman’s scolding, effect lessened by the still occurring belly laugh, “I told you to calm yourself—”
As the world quietens again, Jungkook huffs, tilting his head as he deduces, “So late and yet… Not much of a hidden spot after all.”
“It feels like an ancient hill to me. I don’t often meet others here.” You breathe in the wind, then tongue your cheek. “They probably didn’t even notice where they were going. People in love never do.”
“I guess so.”
He guesses so.
It’s been a while since he fell in love.
Your head bobs once more before you lose yourself in the skyline, sucking in more of the crisp air that’ll grace you in the upcoming months. Fall is upon the town. He inbreathes the peace, too.
His hands operate on their own; one last time, he lifts it towards you, peeks through the lens again, adjusting the focus until the object clicks again. You’re not looking at him; he caught your side profile, this time not out of mock or tease.
He means it. And you seem to know.
Because when you look at him this time, you’re not mad or irritated.
Only look at him softly, a smile that truly matches the heights you took him on.
READ BELOW!!
the fic isn't over yet – as always, tumblr has a 1k block limit that makes our lives harder than necessary lmao. read the last scene and the remaining 3k words of meraki here 🥰
MERAKI (v., Greek). "to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work."
Summary: Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader
➳ rating: 18+
➳ genre: e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut
➳ warnings: bickering, bantering, jk is a bit rude at the beginning, flirting, tension, oc is bold and courageous, mention of someone being stoned, mention of insomnia, jk's lip rings <3, heights, not exactly e2l but more like "i find you pretty annoying" to lovers lmao, deep talks and sweet moments, one bed trope, guest appearance, jk takes pictures of pretty things, stars and sky talk <3, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, implied pain kink? lol, fingering, manhandling, oral (f. & m. receiving), teasing, 69, spitting, one or two spanks, bit of choking, soft and hard sex, unprotected sex (oc has an iud), soft dom!jk but also glimpses of sub!jk, ofc biiiig dick!jk, doggy/riding/missionary, praises, more flirting, jk's godly body, masturbation, cum swallowing (he comes in her mouth); the lovely ending <3
➳ word count: 26.6k <3
➳ a/n: you guys built this fic!! 🥺 hopefully this is what we expected it to be. it's also yet another love letter to one of the gentlest men i know; happy birthday, jeon jungkook, you're the standard and i will never fall out of love with you 💕 i hope y'all enjoy it!! come and talk to me when you're done mwah <3
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs
1:04AM, Her
There’s a word for how you do what you do.
A term you hold dearly in the crevices of your bright heart. Ever since you first learned its meaning two decades ago, you’ve made it your primary goal to breathe through life with it as your philosophy.
Passion, it is. A word certainly common in conversation and daily life — you’re not the only person to live by it. Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to wallow in it.
Because there’s a fire behind your hard-working chest, lit up, pride residing next to it. It’s where you feel the most vivid light when you do what you love, blooming and blossoming. There are synonyms of it you know, and each of them are pretty as a growing garden.
You gatekeep them for now; haven’t yet found a person to share your knowledge with. Which is okay; in the meantime, you’ll keep looking. You do think everybody needs something like this in their lives.
Something that forces your body upright, sprinkling fairy dust and glimmer into your eyes. Something you can resort to in order to escape the trials of life.
For you, as odd it may seem to people, it’s your job.
You usually work late like today, surrounded by sounds and disquiet. But you enjoy it. You like stepping into the night afterwards, and you like the dark blanket above, the starlight sprinkled across the comforting blackness.
And you like it when it drizzles sometimes. The giggles of couples or groups of friends as they wade through the rain. The absolute quiet and relieving serenity.
You live for this. You enjoy people. You enjoy sensing life around you.
Tonight isn’t different. Even when you find yourself hastening by the end, wrapping up the event with a dozen chores to tackle; even when the host rushes to you, asking for help. Your shoes click-clack across the floor as you move left and right, up and down.
But by God, you never doubt these days’ worth.
1:04AM, Him
Sometimes, people don’t want to be photographed.
Jungkook learned that early on when he agreed to be a photographer at events. He’s encouraged and urged to ask people to pose; that’s his job. Waiting for them to force a smile before they can resume eating, debone their fish or work on their lobsters, beef, veggies.
They long to return to whatever they were doing, or to their conversations, mostly insignificant ones; Jungkook knows because he, involuntarily, hears too many of them.
It’s only when they’re dancing or drinking that they open up. That’s when they’re okay with listening to him, obedient, almost as if he’s authority, staring into the lens with flushed cheeks and wide grins.
Though it’s irritating when every other person walks up to him afterwards, inquiring when they’d be receiving the photos, or, even ruder, if at all.
Today, there are a few more comfortable people around. Not as harsh, not as grim as he feels. You’re here, too, somewhere; of course you are — you got him here in the first place. Somehow, your paths often cross. You were ready for a picture immediately, drawn in by the host, smiling.
He perceived your presence just for a second, though. Doesn’t need or want any more than that. You’re too loud, too energetic anyway; he’s rather among himself, not in any photo, indulging in the job.
He loves clicking through his camera roll; it’s the people that tire him out. Working his way through the pictures he took once home gives him joy, though. Makes his fatigue feel worth it.
But God, you’re not the only one, right? So many people here are the same amount of enthusiastic, party people to the core.
Which is why he’s happy when the night finally concludes, and he, far after midnight, stuffs his equipment back into his bag and slips into his at least somewhat chic blazer.
1:12AM, Her
You groan as your hand dives into your bag, fishing out the key that you already removed from your keychain an hour ago. Back when the man facing you approached you; he’s the last face you see when you step out of the somewhat stuffy hall.
Or so you think.
You don’t know that the night is far from over when you linger at the entrance, handing him a key that he encloses in his grip with a grateful nod and a goodbye-wave. The final interaction when you excuse yourself, breathing in the night.
It’s a hunch cooler than when you left home today; yet, the breeze feels pleasant caressing your skin. The end of August is still warm, still fairly far from fall; you regard summer nights as the best part of the season.
Sighing, you come to a halt in the middle of the pavement, studying the alley. You ponder until you remember a bus not too far from here; you need to turn left, right? Should be there. You have never been around here before, so you’re not entirely sure.
But you’ll just go with your first instinct for now. Keep walking until you detect any kind of a promising sign. You hold onto your roomy bag as you pass the rare people still around.
Some of them are faces you recognise from the party; some are strangers. One couple you spoke to just earlier even lifts a thumbs up for you, praising you for the exceptional organisation. They make you feel at ease until the road quietens.
And the place stays serene and silent until you hear the clearing of somebody’s throat. It’s not near; yet not far. Your eyes scan the area, not for long when they recognise a figure sitting on the opposite side of the narrow street.
It’s a man, clutching a heavy object with careful hands. A camera, you know it immediately. He’s hunting through the pictures he took, face slightly lit by the screen. Jutting lower lip, slowly blinking eyes.
Simple attire — dark jeans, a white shirt, and a blazer on top that hides the wide shoulders.
Constantly and undeniably handsome, albeit always grim due to the lack of a smile.
You squint to confirm it’s him you’re seeing; but when he smacks his lips in the dark of the night, nibbling at the shiny lip rings, you know you’re right. This is a habit you’ve never seen on anybody this persistently as on Jeon Jungkook.
And the one and only Jeon Jungkook must be feeling your eyes on him, because only a second later, he lifts his gaze. Instinctively, you wave a little, but Jungkook isn’t on board with your hospitality. He rolls his eyes; you don’t take it to heart, though. You’re used to this.
As he starts stuffing the camera back into his bag, you waddle over, crossing the street. Upon reaching him, you ask, “Got some good pictures tonight?”
“I’d guess so.”
His voice is as nonchalant as always, his shoulders relaxed, uncaring. To your vampire-novel-reading middle school self, he would’ve been the coolest and most mysterious riddle, waiting to be cracked. But you know how he feels about you, and that makes the situation just a little less intriguing.
Yet, you never stopped approaching him, because aside from conversations like these, you know he’s just human, too. He smiles at events whenever he gets the chance, content with the moments he captures; he likes what he does.
Photography has always been his thing; or that’s what you gathered, at least. You see the same sparkle in his eyes that you feel in yours when you work; the same joy when he fumbles with his camera, always checking, presumably changing the settings, testing it out.
You lean in a little, wondering, “Can I see?”
“Uhm…” He hesitates, lifting the strap of the camera bag higher up his shoulder. “Do you have to?”
“If I may. I brought you here, remember?”
Of course. It’s always you; you’re the one to organise this, and you’ve seen his pieces and albums before. He might not hang around you too much, always the first to tell you he has somewhere else to be, but you know he’s good. You trust him in this regard.
“You say that every time,” he argues, a tattooed hand settling on his bag, clearly reluctant.
So you click your tongue, waving your suggestion off. You try to sound as lively as ever, but your voice is more earnest as you say, “Okay, it’s fine. Don’t show me the pictures, but come on. Be a bit nice at least.
“Alright. What else? Do you need something?”
You sigh in defeat. “No. I was just going home.”
“You should go home. It’s pretty late.”
“Aren’t you going, too?”
“I am,” he responds, his voice going up at the end. “I just wanted a bit of peace before leaving.”
“Peace,” you repeat, as if trying out the word. “You can’t get it at home?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer this time. Instead, he only shifts his stare from you to the empty road ahead, exhaling a dramatically long breath before he gets into motion. You immediately react, by his side until he asks, “Are you following me?”
“Huh? Did you forget that I was literally heading this way?” He’s distracted, looking for the street signs, and you laugh at his own confusion. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
“I guess so.”
Okay, at least he’s honest, not giving himself airs. You want to see what his inner compass suggests, but then somewhat shun the thought of walking further into unknown terrain.
So you question, “You taking the bus?”
“Nope. Subway.”
“Ah. That should be this way, then,” you nod towards the direction you’re approaching, “I know the bus is, because that’s where I need to go.”
“…Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
That’s it. He doesn’t respond much; only lets out the millionth sigh, following you with something you might nearly call trust. He doesn’t attempt small talk or any other kind of interaction, so you let him sink into his thoughts.
But a beat of silence later, you still ask politely, “How did you like the party?”
“Uhhh, it was okay.” For the first time in minutes, he looks at you. “The people were weird, don’t you think? But I got some good shots in.”
“Hmm… okay. I didn’t notice anything weird about the people.” You shrug your shoulders. “Talking about shots… did you drink a little?”
He whines your name as the question is a tale as old as time, complaining, “Every single time? Why is this so important to you…” He waits, shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. Seems you did, though.”
“A little,” you say, bringing your forefinger and thumb together, indicating a tiny space. “But I’m all sober and well.” Another brief pause. “Are you okay, too?”
He licks his lower lip, dimples appearing that don’t ever need a smile to emerge. Then, he throws back, “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Dunno. You always look so bored at parties. And you always go home alone.”
You don’t know if the following laugh is sarcastic or not, but you soon discover the very answer when he lifts a finger and counts, “First off, how would you know?” Another finger added to the mix. “Secondly, I’m not bored. I’m just focused. And I don’t know anybody there.”
His hand drops again, working on his bag’s strap again. Pushing it over his shoulder. He adds, “It’s a bit different for me than for you because they’re literally your clients and you know them at least a little.”
“I mean… you know me.”
“Yeah, but you’re…” He regards you from head to toe, not the softest of expressions, and you pout. You don’t ever take him seriously, but he can be hurtful sometimes. “I just don’t think we’d be good conversation partners.”
“Weird,” you challenge, “because you’re conversing with me right now, no problem. It’s also not my fault you always argue with me at every event.”
“I don’t. You approach me.”
“You do.” You lean your face closer to his, not making it very far when his palm pushes your cheek, and you, away from him. “Ugh. Okay. Seriously, though — why do you always leave alone?”
He exhales in defeat. Seems that Jeon Jungkook is too tired to take your idiocy tonight. You understand, but you’re just trying to figure out how to convince him that you’re normal, too. That he just dislikes you because you’re different from him, and nothing else.
“Hey…” he utters, out of energy.
“I mean it,” you still declare, “there are so many sweet and nice girls around. They ask about you sometimes, you know? I’ve also met many men on such pa—”
“That’s great,” he interrupts, a palm stopping you from spilling more info, “but… I don’t think I’m interested.”
“Oh.” The syllable is short, cut, harmless. That is, until it clicks in your brain, and your eyes widen, lips parting as you turn to him in shock, stating, “Oh, wait. Do you… play for the other team?”
Jungkook blinks at you. Then lowers his gaze, turning it a couple shades darker, staring at you from under his eyelids. He looks annoyed when he spits, “No, I’m not gay. And even if I was, it’d be none of your business.”
Shit.
Okay, you were sure about your assumption, but now that it turned out wrong, this sounds pretty shitty. And annoying. And awkward.
“Sorry,” you apologise, and he gives you a taunting head tilt. “Okay… different topic then? Tell me, what do you think of this dress?” You lift the hem a little, smiling; you were convinced the moment you first saw it. “Do you think I look pretty today?”
For a second, he joins; his initial gaze is still cynical, but his voice is appealing, a whisper when he leans in and asks, “Why? Do you want to be the one I go home with?”
Ah… why do the words, the way he speaks them, tickle you just right? You’re flabbergasted, seeing your reaction on the bare skin of your arms, but all he does is back away again and once again, shake his head.
You want to retort something snarky back, but you don’t get to it when he inquires a moment later again, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
Right… you need to go home. You forgot.
“Uh… yeah.” You look around, finally detecting a sign, picturing a bus and a number. “There’s the bus, so the subway should be…” You stop; hum; then see two women waiting at the bus stop. “Should we ask someone?”
“Sure.”
With a nod, you separate from him, walking towards the bus station bench they’re sitting on, hands folded, conversing quietly. They’re surprised when they see a figure advance, but relax when they catch your smile.
You ask the questions floating in your brain, trying to explain where you live, what you need. They attempt an answer, gesture around, and barely a minute later, you’re thanking them and leaving again.
Jungkook stands there in anticipation, waiting for you to deliver good news — yet confused when you return with slumped shoulders instead of an enthusiastic, “We were right! Come!”
Okay, there aren’t too many reasons for Jungkook to dislike you; you want to say this much. But when you see him understand that this is going nowhere, you do get his frustration.
Especially as you kiss your lips, staring at him like a lost bunny, and explain, “So… the subway isn’t here.” Big eyes meet yours. “I’m not sure where it is, and they,” your thumb points to the girls behind you, “couldn’t help because they’re tourists.”
“Ah. Great,” he says, delivering a falsely cheerful smile. Hands thrown into the air. “So we’re stranded and should definitely not be here. What about the bus? Where does it go?”
“Uhm…” You scratch your head. “Not where I need to go. It’s a different one. But!” Immediately, your voice rises, trying to approach this with hope. It’s not the end of the world, after all! “Don’t worry! We’ll get home either way.”
“Just a lot later than necessary.”
“But nothing’s lost yet. Don’t you trust me?”
And — much as you thought — Jungkook only ogles back in silence, blinking once again before he walks away with a curse on his lips.
1:25AM, Her
You catch up to him fast.
“It’s not that big of a deal, I promise!” you vow, but you reckon it only makes matters worse.
Because he breathes air through his nose, like a bull, arguing, “I’m tired, though. This is wasting so much of my time. You always do.”
You stop in your tracks. He doesn’t. You sulk, “That was mean.”
“And you’re idiotic.”
“Well… shit.”
This time you tilt your head, grinding your teeth; less out of anger, more out of embarrassment. You don’t respond much else, and he doesn’t throw another insult. Instead, he opens the bag again with the velcro’s ripping sound, heaving out his SLR.
You peek over his shoulder, confused about the timing to indulge in a passion, and ask, “What are you doing with that?”
“Looking through them,” he mutters, thumb working on the switching button, “maybe I took a picture when I came here. A sign where to find the subway.”
His reasoning elicits a sudden laugh out of you, probably unfounded to him, but very amusing to you. He throws a bewildered and somewhat warning look, and you immediately silence; still holding yourself back when he turns away again.
You wait, listen to the quiet of the night. He doesn’t seem to find any success, and the more time passes, the funnier you find his mind. Eventually, you step next to him and give up, telling him, “Hey. Don't be so tetchy. I'm not that bad.”
Jungkook side-eyes you, tapping the screen of the heavy Sony A9 Alpha. Inhaling the pleasant late summer air, he defends, “I'm never tetchy! But you got us lost.”
“So? You’re being dramatic. There's still Google Maps.”
That’s it. This look of his.
Jungkook must’ve gotten stuck in a decade you’ve long left, because he stares at you dumbfounded, camera still firmly in his hands. He tongues his cheek, blinks.
And then, you mock, “Guess I’m not the only idiot here, right?”
His next breath is deep, and he soon averts your eyes again. You dig, “What? If anything, then low battery might be your only excuse, you know?”
He doesn’t look at you, and you break into a grin again. Shake your head. Then fish out your phone at last, ready to type in the goal, or at least, to search the nearest subway and bus that fit your demands.
Hmmm, okay. If you need to go where you think you need to go, then the subway will really be in immediate distance to the bus. So you’ll be heading in the same direction anyway.
You open your mouth to ask for his address, prepared to type it in — but as you look at him again, you detect a deeply focused Jungkook, pursing his lips at his camera and regarding it with glitter in his eyes. You see it even from here, the sparkle.
Maybe he’s waiting for you to deliver a conclusion, because you catch him moving through older pictures in the meantime. From here, you only see glimpses. Of forests and roads, and then of waterfalls. Even some of him and his friends.
He doesn’t notice it, but his eyebrows are much more relaxed now, expression not quite as steely anymore; and his lips even twitch for a tiny second, tempted to smile. As if he forgot where he’s currently standing.
You let your arms sink, both hands holding your phone, and just gaze for a while. Then move your eyes to the side. To the sky. Remember places you’ve seen and loved in this town. Still hear his harsh tone echoing in your ears.
In hindsight, you really don’t think you've ever personally hurt or offended him. He might’ve been annoyed by something else. Perhaps he was dealing with something that he never dared to speak about; or perhaps, his perception of optimism is warped, because he clearly doesn’t wade through life with it.
You’d like to see his real self, though. The real self, because your gut feeling whispers to you that this isn’t him. Maybe there’s a kind and kindred soul hidden somewhere; maybe his smile proves far more intriguing to you than these mysterious moods of his. Once it appears, that is.
But…
He’ll probably say no. Your idea isn’t dumb, you’re certain, but he very likely will not go with it. But you want to try. Want to show him that you’re not as bad, that he can trust you; want to know what burdens him; or why he talks to you like this.
You might be the only one to wish for more time with somebody who wants to avoid you like the plague.
Yet…
You don’t want this to end just yet.
So you drop a suggestion that surprise even you—
“…You know what? Let’s try something fun tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
He voices it with his attention only half on you, not quite taking you seriously; so you swallow to dampen your throat and speak firmer, suggesting, “You need to trust me on this, though.”
This time, he does look at you. Works on stuffing his camera back into his bag, opening his mouth to retort something, but you stop him with a shushing finger that he doesn’t look too happy about.
“Hold on, okay?” you exclaim. “Listen. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Uh… not until the afternoon.”
“So you can sleep in.”
“I guess.”
You clap once, loudly and dramatically, watching the man in front of you flinch. You can’t say if he’s irritated, shocked or terrified of you. But he looks hilarious like this, blinking, scowling as his fingers clutch his bag tighter.
“What is it?” he asks as if you’ve lost your mind.
“Look. Let’s not leave yet. Fuck Google Maps,” you suggest, and his eyes grow wider by the second, baffled, as if you’re caging him. “Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again. Isn’t this tempting?”
In your head, it is. Not for yourself, but for him. In your mind, he thinks of you as a constant nuisance that stands in his way, hopping around like an overhyped puppy.
Or not. Maybe he has a dog at home; maybe he regards you as worse than cute puppies.
Whatever.
You look at him expectantly, like your persisting stare could help him land a decision. Instead, however, he grimaces, his voice higher when he asks, “What even are you sa—”
No, you won’t give up yet; even if the recurring interruptions make him tear his hair out. You click your tongue and then argue, “Come on! Give it a try.”
Hesitation. Or rather, a question wondering if you’re crazy. Clear rejection. Are you losing?
“We’d be together, so nothing to fear,” you try further, “and how much time is there till sunrise?” You glance at your watch. “It’s barely half past one. The sun comes up in less than five hours. And like, I know it sounds like a lot, but if you give me some time, I’ll give you reasons to smile.”
He keeps looking at you in this questioning, are-you-fully-mad-manner, but you’re absolutely serious and you need him to know. You bat your eyelashes a little, offering your best laugh, and add, “Like this? If you really want to hate me after that, then okay. If not, then… maybe we could go get coffee someday.”
You’ve spoken enough. He raises a hand, quieting you down, and then finally says it.
“You must be crazy.”
“I am,” you confirm.
“You think I’d do this, huh?”
“…Maaaybe?”
“No.”
Jungkook’s answer is stone cold and direct, and it shuts you up with a near-wince. There’s a faint line between his thick eyebrows, lips pressed together; he looks dangerous and very, very mean.
So you don’t say much for another minute, following when he walks away. You side-eye him, notice him type his destination into his phone. Surrendering, you trudge the path he chooses, soon detecting signs leading to the subway.
He can’t say anything to your presence by his side. Even if his answer remains a steadfast, boring no, you’ll have to go in this direction anyway.
More than halfway through, you venture into a conversation again, “Have you ever tried anything like this before?”
“What? The nonsense you suggested?” he asks, and you nod, catching up with his long legs, slightly slower with your heels. “No. I don’t think I need to.”
“You’re so… don’t you ever try anything new?”
“I mean, is this your definition of something new?” He gestures at your surroundings haphazardly. “Going through town in the middle of the night instead of getting some decent sleep?”
You shrug your shoulders, defending, “It’s not like I do it every day. And nothing one can do every day anyway. That's why I want you to try it.” Your voice is soft, friendly. “But you don’t have to.”
He doesn’t answer; only comes to a halt when a bus stop nears, peeking up to the sign with the number before he asks, “That yours?” You hum in confirmation. “Okay. Will you get home well? It’s late.”
“Yeah, of course,” you pout, kicking off a tiny stone with your shoe, “done it a few times.”
He stalls. You don’t know why, but you’re sure he does. You notice it in his slow movements, the brief pause, the way he looks to the subway he needs to approach and then back to you. You smile when his eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and then he tilts his head, sighs.
“Alright. Then… good night.”
And that’s it.
You tell him to sleep well in return, earning a tiny nod, and then he’s leaving you stranded, walking away. Your eyes stay on him until he’s out of sight, down the escalator to the subway and far, far away from the fun idea you conjured.
You mimic his sigh. Take the two or three steps to the bench under the bus stop; and then you wait.
At this time, public transport operates irregularly, so you’re not surprised when you’re still there minutes later. For a while, you remain alone — that is, until a stranger tumbles to you, swaying before he takes a seat on the other edge of the bench.
You don’t look at him; don’t want his attention on you. But to your discomfort, he garbles just a second later, “This the bus to…”
He gets a hiccup, pointing to the bus sign, and then mumbles the name of the station he needs to reach. You don’t understand, however, so you prod, “What?”
Slower now yet similarly slurred, he repeats his question, but this time, you understand and nod your head yes. He overshares, “It’s just that I’m drunk, so I need to be sure. Sorry for interrupting.”
Suddenly, you feel kind of sorry for him. Your shoulders relax; you observe him letting his arms dangle between his legs, sniffling, incredibly exhausted, it seems. What did the fella experience tonight?
You respond, “It’s okay. It’s really late. Get home well.”
“Thanks. You’re very nice.”
The same finger previously signalling to the sign now points at you; but he doesn’t touch you. In fact, his digits are still a good distance away, already falling when you feel a hand on your elbow out of the blue; you nearly react on intuition, getting into position to break somebody’s nose.
But when your eyes meet the other man’s, you recognise him as the same figure standing tall that abandoned you a couple minutes ago. His hand is still grasping the camera bag strap, and he looks calm, confident when he speaks—
“All good? Sorry, I left for too long, right? Let’s go.”
Your voice changes, a chuckle hidden in it when you blurt, “What?”
“You wanted to take a walk.”
And just like that, the snicker dies again. Is he being serious? It seems so; it’s the whole package, even. The nod towards an entirely different direction and the sudden fingers around your wrist, pulling you away.
“Uhm…” you start, feet moving automatically. You turn to the guy drowning in inebriation, leaving a last, “Good luck!” as you wave, smile. Then, to Jungkook, “I thought you went away. Did you want to do this after all?”
You’re cocking an eyebrow, but much at the back of Jungkook’s head, so he doesn’t see. But it seems he hears the tease in your voice, because half-annoyed, half-argumentative, he explains, “No. Just wanted to be a gentleman. I was going to leave the moment you got on the bus.”
Ah. So he was waiting, hiding somewhere? But you don’t mention it; it’d probably just rile him up more.
Yet, you challenge, “You’re lying. You were concerned and you thought my idea was fun after all.”
“Whatever you say,” he says, waving the white flag, probably just to shut you up, “don’t know if I can do this until sunrise, but I can walk with you for a bit. Get you closer to home. And I swear!”
Now he turns, shooting a stare at you over his shoulders, lightning bolts in the middle of his pupils, “If you’re lying and there’s literally nothing special on our way, I’m actually never talking to you again.”
Nothing easier than that.
“Deal!”
“Cool,” he so nonchalantly remarks, finally letting go of your arm, “which way are you heading then?”
“North-east.”
“Good. Works for me.”
The sun is nowhere near up yet; of course not. It’s 1:37AM. Around four and a half hours.
You’re hopeful. In your head, you imagine an uplifted demeanour in no time; try to guess what his smile might look like. A genuine one. Maybe sweet? Maybe cocky? You’ll find out. You will.
So you straighten your stance, clear your throat, sigh a content breath, and step into the night with the courage the stars lend you.
2:13AM, Her
The first almost forty minutes of your night pass leisurely.
Jungkook’s initial sighs cease soon as you advance into the town, walking down a busy main street. You guess the bustling area, the sounds of the traffic and the lights of the flashing cars relieve him somehow. Give him an excuse to not talk to you.
But as the occupied road ends and you reach and pass a crowded square, you’re back in calm and serene alleys. Some people are still wandering around, passing closed shops, much like you.
You attempt conversation every now and then, and Jungkook, having eventually realised that he needs to cooperate with you — he agreed to your idea after all — isn’t as mad anymore.
At some point, he breathes in the late summer breeze, and your head swerves into his direction immediately — maybe the magic of the night has finally reached his core, too. Perhaps he’s appreciating the journey you set out to embark on.
You, for one, cherish the quiet; you know at least this much. The alley must be part of the older corner of the town because the lampposts seem Victorian. They’re fancy, bent at the top, the light a comforting golden.
You do admire the beauty in the dead of night, you do — but the weirdly bruising feeling on your skin becomes uncomfortably apparent the more you walk. Your heels and the Achilles tendons ache, the ball of your feet sensitive to each step.
For a while, you hide the stupid pain successfully, not wanting the night to end; and you do love the heels. Feel just the way those old romcom’s protagonists probably felt, strutting through town with a man whose life they’d change.
But as an involuntary groan slips out of you, Jungkook’s view changes from the old buildings to your struggling self. His eyes settle on your contorted expression before they move further down to your sudden limp.
He asks, “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah! Just been walking for a while, is all.”
“Hmm,” he hums, regarding your heels with a suspicious look. “Do they hurt?”
“Nah. I’m used to them.”
“…Oookay.”
He drags the word, as if in disbelief; and you can’t lie your way through the minutes when the ache worsens, the suddenly paved path too much of a chore. You nearly trip when your heel gets caught between the stones.
Jungkook immediately reacts when you hiss; you’re nowhere near actually falling, but his arms still reflexively jolt, the camera bag swaying and hitting your hand when he catches your shoulders.
“Okay, seriously,” he spits, eyes wide, “that’s enough. You can’t walk in these.”
“I can!”
“Not!” He takes a look around, inspecting the place; it’s quiet here, not too many cars driving by at all. So he points to the edge of the pedestrian zone, instructing, “Sit down there. Let’s see.”
See what?
You blink, but oblige. His pointing finger is dominant, and his eyes urging; you flatten your dress, taking a seat at the edge. The road isn’t high, so it’s a little uncomfortable; but you’re pleasantly surprised when he appears in front of you, crouching.
Very, very baffled when he requests, “Can you take them off?”
“Sure,” you say, unbuckling the straps around your ankles before removing the shoes. You sigh; you must admit, it does feel great. “I’m honestly okay, though.”
Jungkook doesn’t respond, ignores your statement; instead, asks, “May I?”
You don’t understand what he means until his hands come to a float right over your toes; he wants to check for bruises, doesn’t he? You nod curtly; something about this warms your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this side of him before.
Not that you ever had the chance to.
He doesn’t really hate you, does he?
Carefully, his fingers reach for your ankle. The touch is warm and pleasant; doesn’t hurt until he moves his thumbs to your heel. Your feet are overworked; you notice. But rather than the annoying pain, you can’t help but focus on your view.
The big, round nose, hiding the plump, parted lips. His eyes look hooded from here, strands of his hair covering them. Intrusive thoughts plead for your fingers to card through the dark mane; it looks soft, pretty.
And the gentleness he handles your skin with fills you with fondness; you like being cared for.
Even when he shakes his head; pulling you out of your daydream. You take a breath, and then inquire, “You don’t have a problem with touching feet?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just feet. Besides,” he stops for a second, detecting something at the back of your foot, shaking his head, “Mom used to work as a nurse. Tough job. I massaged hers sometimes.”
Ah… a loving son, a family person. You smile.
“And I thought you have a foot kink,” you tease.
“Shut up.”
“Found anything?”
“Yeah actually. Do you know how wounded your skin is here? Were you wearing new shoes?”
You gulp with a thin-lipped smile, wondering if he’ll kill you now if you tell him. You look to some random spot on your right before you admit, “Yes.”
“God, you…” He clicks his tongue. Puts your foot on the ground cautiously, reaching for his bag. He rummages through it until he pulls out a bandage, holding it in front of you. “You’re lucky.”
You chuckle, relieved and flattered. “I guess I am.”
He puffs out a laugh, but stops it right away, calling your name under his breath before he says, “God, you’re crazy. Be careful. And admit it when you’re hurt. Why didn’t you?”
Well… you didn’t want the night to end—
“I…”
You hesitate.
He works on your other foot just the same, a tender thumb running over your ankle, probably used to the soothing touch. It distracts you. And when he stops and you don’t answer, he puts his arm on his angled leg, staring up at you in anticipation.
“Yes?” he prods.
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d care.” Nonchalantly yet pouting, you nibble at your lower lip. “And if I’d told you they’re hurting, you might’ve suggested ending the night.”
He cocks an eyebrow as if agreeing to the most self-explanatory statement ever, nodding as he confirms, “Damn right I would’ve. We should end the night right now if you can’t walk. Not in these, at least.”
Your chest is hot, your stomach twisting a little. Jungkook really does bother; if not due to a connection he shares with you, then simply because he cares for people. Never, you have never experienced him like this before.
With a tilt of your head and a batting of your eyelashes, you suggest, “And if I was barefoot?”
Which he reacts to with a roll of his eyes. “The night isn’t that warm. Don’t do this to yourself. The ground’s dirty, too.”
You take a look at the dark grey pavement upon his argument, much as if the night could allow you to detect any of the dirt he speaks of. Once more, you hum, pretending to contemplate what to do; and when you pick up your heels, suggesting to follow your idea either way, the back of his hand gives your knee the lightest of hits.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Watch.”
He does. Watches you place your spacious, black bag on your lap, opening the zip. Observes as your hand dips in, pulling out one pair of sneakers and replacing them with your treacherous heels. He keeps ogling when you put them on, mouth widening bit by bit.
He doesn’t speak until you’re done, socks picked out of the shoes, pulled over your feet, laces tied. You keep smiling, content with the moment, only dropping the grin when you see his puzzled expression.
“What?” you question.
“You had them with you and… Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
Your answer comes without hesitation; whatever timidity he elicited a moment ago slowly fades again. You clear your throat, back to who you are, and dauntlessly admit, “It was sweet. How you took care of me, I mean. I didn’t think you ever would.”
“But you could’ve at least worn them sooner and avoided the hurt?!”
“Well, it didn’t hurt then…”
“You’re…”
Jungkook uprights himself, towering above you. You put a flat palm onto the pavement, wanting to heave yourself up, but soon see a hand in front of your face. He’s offering it; and you’re quick to take it.
Warm and soft; gentle.
As he pulls you up, you land closer to his body than calculated; his face isn’t too far from yours… much nearer than it has ever been. He leans back; looks to the side; blinks. Clears his throat. Lets go off your hand way too late.
The breath you held escapes in a sudden blow. You swallow.
And when you’ve processed the strange moment, you feel the change in your stance. You’re standing taller now; your feet feel heavenly in your Nikes. Dusting off the front of your dress and your ass, you wait for him to say something.
But he keeps standing there on the road, in the middle of a parking space, hands on his hips. He’s judging you; you understand. Your mindset isn’t for everybody. You might seem crazy, alright.
Yet, he doesn’t scold you again. The up and down of his irked voice doesn’t appear this time when he speaks again; instead, his chin nods towards your legs, and he questions, “So you just carry around shoes with you?”
“I need to,” you say, matter-of-factly, “I can’t ride the motorcycle in heels. And!” Jungkook’s mouth opens, but you’re quick to explain. “Before you ask. No, I didn’t hide my bike anywhere. It needs some fixing, so my co-worker took it because he knows someone who’ll do it. And because he owes me a favour.”
“Right… how unfortunate.” He pauses; runs his tatted digits through the hair you longed to touch minutes ago. They look so silky, it makes you sick. His eyes settle on you, intrigued before he adds, “So, you have a bike, huh?”
“Yeah… why?”
“No reason. I do, too.”
“Mmmh,” you voice, nodding to the road ahead to suggest moving. He follows, trudging next to you again. “You didn’t use it today?”
“No…” He pats the camera bag. “Didn’t want to harm my equipment.”
You hum approvingly, fingers entangling in front of your body. You inch closer to his arm, nudging his shoulder with yours before you flash a sugary smile and say, “Thank you. For caring even a little, you know? Even if you’re always like that, it’s nice to see you like this for once.”
“I’m usually like this,” is what he, however, merely answers, accompanied by air quotes.
But you know you’ve gotten through to him at least a little. Melted bits of the frozen parts of his heart that feel so vexed by you on other nights. In truth, you think, there’s nothing but a delicate organ pumping behind his ribcage.
He’s not a robot; Jeon Jungkook is undeniably humane. If anything, then more than most people you have ever met.
And it shows when he looks away, barely able to hide his smile. You see it even from here — that the gesture does something to his eyes. Nearly squints them shut, makes them smaller, more joyful.
You inhale, proud of yourself. Watch as he toys with his lip rings before he asks eventually, “What do you mean owing you a favour, by the way?”
He sounds almost offended. You think he’ll ask about that favour, reprimand you for giving away your bike tonight of all nights. Tell you off for dragging him here, doing something big enough to entrust an entire motorcycle to somebody.
But instead, he continues with a question you never foresaw, “Are you in a quarrel with them? Am I not your arch-enemy?”
You burst into laughter immediately, covering your mouth as the other palm touches his arm. There’s a bulging bicep under his blazer, but you’ll focus on that later.
Right now, you’re fairly occupied by the satisfied eyes; he doesn’t really expect an answer. He wanted to make you laugh… Why does that set something loose in your brain?
“Oh… are you jealous? What if I told you it’s somebody else who occupies my mind at night and not you?” you wonder, wiggling your eyebrows.
“Don’t do this to me. I’ll find your co-worker and fight them for your enemyship. Word of honour.”
“It’s enmity. And stop flirting with me,” you tell him, moving towards him again, shoulder hitting shoulder. “Or is it something else with arch-enemies?”
This time, he doesn’t veil his grin. It’s bright, pretty, reminiscent of the light shed on you underneath the lampposts. And his pupils; whenever you see them clearly enough, you recognise the sky in them. Borrowed stars inside.
You shake your head a second later, winding down from your fit of laughter, and tell him, “You’re not my arch-enemy. Arch-enemies don’t exist, and you know you aren’t one. You just…” You stall, your voice quieter now. “You just regard me as one.”
He throws you an indecipherable look. Hints of joking, shreds of seriousness, you think. His gaze drifts back to the path again, regarding a passing group of three friends briefly. His hands slide into the pockets of his jacket, and he sniffles once before he utters—
“No, I don't.”
Ah. Ah.
Why do your eyebrows relax the way they do? And your shoulders; already in ease, yet they seem to fall in relief. You peer at him wordlessly; he doesn’t demand an answer, fully aware you’re looking at him.
And you don’t ask what you’ve been to him ever since he saw you at the first party probably a year ago; what irked him, what delighted him. If he thought about you at all.
Instead, you look at the neon words in the next street, asking, “Are you hungry?”
2:19AM, Him
You’re irritating to the core.
You always have been. But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit you amused him a little. No matter how much you’ve been wasting his time, you allowed a smile in this ill-lit night. Nobody else at the party did — so in some sense, you’ve already won, and somehow, he’s even grateful.
Grateful that you’re optimistic about the world at least. Glad that you suggested fetching food. Endeared by the way you thanked him for his care. Surprised that you ride a motorcycle! Relieved that you have good humour.
Even though his own humour and smile dissipate after you enter one of the few open stores still providing late night snacks. The girl behind the counter looks tired, but straightens a little when the two of you flash a polite smile.
She greets with a sweet, “Hi!” but Jungkook sees the lethargy in her drooping eyes immediately. Poor girl.
But you’re as enthusiastic as ever; maybe a little more now, maybe observing the same as him. You put your hands on the counter like a child — the image is somewhat cute. But what comes out of your mouth is not.
“Uhm… Could I have a portion of cheese tteokbokki, please? And then… A half and half corndog for my husband.”
Your… what now?
Excuse me?
Jungkook throws an immediate and scorching look your way, utterly surprised. When you meet his eyes, his thick eyebrows are closer than anybody’s ever seen. He huffs your suggestion away, and then corrects, “I’m not her husband. And I’ll take the chicken wrap.”
You chuckle, leaning into him, shielding your mouth with a hand as you warn, “They’re not usually very good at this store. Trust me.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
Right. He does. After the disaster of finding the damn bus and the deception caused by your shoes, he won’t trust you very easily anymore. His opinion clearly differs from yours, so he’ll bank on his gut feeling.
Satisfied when you shrug, as if to indicate, “If you say so,” he walks over to the window seats with you in tow, looking out to the peaceful streets. Once seated, he turns towards you, peering until you notice and ask far too purely, “What?”
“Not even your boyfriend, no… Jumped straight to making me your husband, huh?”
The lift of your shoulders brushes his concerns aside; your eyes are incredibly innocent and even somehow playful when you say, “I thought it’d be fun.”
“Was it really?”
“Well, your reaction was funny, at least.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes in disbelief. You’re courageous, he must admit. Social anxiety must fear you — is that how you live life? Unabashed, spirited, not a sheer care for anything that won’t actually hurt you.
He doesn’t know if you’re insane or if he’s jealous.
But he still reiterates, “You’re crazy. And it was embarrassing.”
“I mean,” you say, moving on your chair, folding your fingers on top of the counter but still looking at him, “it was embarrassing because you made it. It’s honestly whatever.” You blow a raspberry, and then take a swing again, “Why is it awkward anyway? We’ll never be here together again.”
He whispers a hushed, “Thankfully,” and you tap the counter with a click of your tongue. He gets it; you live differently. That’s fine. As long as you don’t pull him into your mischief, it’s fine.
Right?
He’s right, isn’t he? He knows that in his personal opinion he is; yet, he can’t help but feel that sting, suddenly deeming himself as boring. You’re never bored, are you?
Anyway…
“Even if you do something like this again,” he tells you, “at least tell me.”
“I mean, that would kinda prevent your genuine reactions from happening, but… if it makes you happy.” You grin at him, and he scoffs; wants to say something before the girl calls for you. “Food is ready.”
A couple seconds later, the two of you have settled back into place; at the sight of the snack, Jungkook salivates. He didn’t realise how hungry he actually was. The buzz and fuzz of a party makes one forget such an essential thing fast.
Or maybe, he was just immersed in his work.
The chicken smells good, at least. Or are these your tteokbokki? He can’t quite discern the scent right now; his mind is fogged by his appetite. Silently, he unwraps his food, swallowing before he digs into the wrap.
So far, so good… seems edible. He keeps chewing; swallows some more. But as the taste starts to sink in and he realises the sogginess of the wrap, the lack of proper sauces and the dryness as well as the blandness of the chicken…
He pauses. Where… are the flavours?
Slowing down, he glances at his meal. Inspects it as if he’s holding an entirely new recipe in his hands. A look of realisation creeps upon his face, unaware of your gaze, and he soon hears an amused snicker from the side.
You don’t say much when your eyes align. Only, “And?”
He knows he’s already lost when his expression changes, cringing; when he can’t answer right away, only gaping at you in confusion. Still thinking about where this recipe went wrong.
He answers, “It’s fine…”
But you catch his obvious lie; he sees it in the way you smile so devilishly. Cocking an eyebrow, enjoying another bite of your snack without ever averting your eyes. Then, you put the tiny wooden fork back into the dish, propping your cheek on your fist.
You wait; he doesn’t know what for. For him to eat again? Maybe; because you soon ask, “Do you want something else?”
“Nah.” His answer is instant this time. “I can do this. I’m an omnivore.”
“Ah, yeah. An omnivore friend right here.” You laugh, curious when he takes another bite. And then, “Jungkook, it’s okay to admit…”
But he won’t listen. Only makes a disapproving sound, stuffing his mouth with another horrendous bite. Shit; he can’t confess that you were right. That you were actually right this time.
Suddenly, he’s craving a cup of ramyeon.
But he should keep eating. Wash it down with his drink, empty the soda. And he’s almost halfway through when he notices a movement from your direction, like you’re playing with your food.
Only, he realises that you are not; rather separating the tteokbokki in two halves before shoving the porcelain dish towards him. He shakes his head, but you persist, “Take it, man.”
It does look good…
But… are you going to use the satisfaction his defeat may give you? Probably. But fuck… Fuck it.
Reluctantly, he lets the wrap fall onto the small plate, gulping down the remainder of what he just bit off, and then, accepts your generosity with a nod. And… whether it’s because of the disappointment the wrap brought or the late hunger…
Jungkook thinks he’s levitating above clouds, floating towards the sun.
It’s good. Very damn good.
And when you ask again this time, “Should we get another?” his nod comes promptly, chest risen in satisfaction as he states, “That’d be great.”
“Alright. Be right back.”
“Nah,” he says, lifting an arm as if to protect you. Mid-action, you halt, sliding back up onto your seat. “Stay here. I’ll get it… All good.”
So he does; enjoys the look of surprise when his other hand even carries dessert, four pieces of matcha mochi ice cream. He says, “This is for you.”
You gasp. He can’t deny that it’s sweet — the elation, the big eyes, the palms coming together in delight. How you look between the food and him, suddenly wiggling your feet.
“You seem to like it,” he notes, and you nod feverishly, telling him that, “Yes! Been craving it since we came in. Thank you!”
“Oh. You should’ve told me earlier! We could’ve gotten it. No worries.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to see if my dessert stomach still allowed anything. Didn’t disappoint me today.”
Jungkook gets to his own tteokbokki, halving it in the middle the way you did, pushing it towards you. It’s weird to think about it like this, but — considering how long the two of you have known each other, you might almost look like… friends.
And you don’t feel quite like an enemy either. You’re even… kind of nice. Friendly; harmless.
“I’m glad,” Jungkook responds, only looking towards the entrance when another group of three friends, two girls, a guy, enter. Then back to you, “Sorry. You were right. This,” he points to the poor, sad wrap, “was shit.”
“See? My first instinct almost never lies. And I know this store from other places… the wraps are never good.”
“Sure, but… your first instinct isn’t always right, though, is it? You did get us lost, so it was wrong at least once.”
“Hm… was it, though?”
Jungkook regards you in confusion as you put another piece on your tongue, working on the chewy thing as he asks, “What do you mean? We had no clue where we w—”
“Yeah, I mean. I agree. But… I don’t think it was that wrong. Because—”
You lick your lips clean off the tteokbokki sauce, smacking them. You look child-like, but pretty when you indulge in your element, uncaring about everything, just living. Maybe it’s not that bad that you’re bold.
And maybe, just maybe, he can power through this night easily after all; especially if you keep saying things that soothe his chest, things like—
“Because my first instinct brought me to you.”
2:49AM, Him
The temperatures are falling as the night proceeds, and the second portion of the mochi ice cream adds to the pleasant chill.
Jungkook wonders how you’re doing; your dress is skimpier than his jeans, and your arms bare. But your stance and your speech are still inconspicuous, skin free of goosebumps, your walk elegant, leisurely.
Judging from your occasional hums and your ceaseless optimism, you’re enjoying this journey. It almost makes him feel bad; guilty about how adamantly he refused all this just an hour ago.
It hasn’t been too bad. Sure, you’re bold and intrepid, and yeah, in some ways he is, too — but his courage stems from other motivations. From adrenaline-loaded activities or joyful, temporary pains. Like his tattoos; his motorcycle; the summer he bungee-jumped for the first time.
You’re a different kind of daring; you challenge your limits in crowds and consider life a respectful joke. You don’t ever hurt anyone, he doesn’t think — you just go and see how far you can push yourself.
Perhaps in some sense, the two of you complement each other while simultaneously seeming to be cut from the same wood. Perhaps you’re different, but then again, not so much.
You’re quiet; you weren’t until you left the snack bar. As for now, however, you seem distracted, swallowing heaps of your dessert as you scan the surroundings you’ve led the two into. You’re somewhat unfazed by it, yet peering as though you’ve been here before.
Which, in retrospect, makes sense. You’ve been wanting to show him places you enjoy after all.
When the silence extends, Jungkook, along with the chirping of the nightlife, breaks it with a, “You know what?”
Your head swerves to his side, the wooden fork in your mouth. The pure gaze you give him throws him off guard for a moment — it’s somewhat sweet. But as he regains himself, he says, “I didn’t think we’d get to a housing scheme here. The main street is super close, but the vibe is so different.”
“I know. It’s a little scary at night when you’re alone. Gives very Desperate Housewives, doesn’t it? Secrets veiled behind shut curtains.” You draw closer, imitating a spooky gesture. “But I liked coming here when I was younger.”
Bingo. He thought so.
“Ah… why?”
“My friend lived here,” you explain with a tilt towards a random direction; he doubts the friend lived in just the house you gestured to, “she’s long moved out of course, but we’d play on these streets back then. Most of the neighbours knew me, too!”
Jungkook tsks, hauling his own bite out of the cup, and you add, “No, seriously! We could just knock at anybody’s door here, and they’d let me in.”
“Not if they moved out, too. A lot of time has passed.”
You bob your head. “Time has passed indeed. It does so pretty fast.”
“Doesn’t it?”
You seem to get into overdrive, gearing up; he didn’t think this topic would rev you up like this, but it appears you have a somewhat firm and fond opinion about the passing of time. Jungkook recognises the sentiment before you speak — the light of the lampposts reflects in your eyes like glitter.
Only, he doesn’t foresee what you say next, your tone teasing through the joy you display—
“Yeah! Like. Do you remember when I told you to not get the wrap and you still di—”
“Shut up.”
The roll of his eyes isn’t anything new; but the faint feeling that accompanies it, something akin to amusement, certainly is.
“Okay, but. Seriously,” you start again, sly smirk falling, voice neutralising the mock, “it felt different here. Because like, you know, where I live, it gets crowded. I’m not too far from the city centre, so… this place always felt really peaceful to me. Jieun and I played together a lot.”
Jungkook frowns.
“Jieun?”
“Hm? Oh. The friend I spoke about? She’s pretty cool.”
“Ah… Right, right.”
“Mhmm,” you hum, the end of your small fork tapping the bottom of the nearly finished cup, “you know another way to know that time passes really fast?” You pause for effect, then add, “It’s been ages since we saw each other for the first time.”
“Right. At a party, too, right? When was that anyway?”
“Hmm… Like.” You ponder, blinking, looking up to the sky. “Like two years ago?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen; if you’d asked him, he would’ve estimated a year tops. If he digs in his memory thoroughly enough, he could probably even remember what you wore that day; what you looked like.
It doesn’t feel like two years. You’re right — time truly does pass like the wind.
“Wow,” he exclaims, “it’s been this long since you started pestering me?”
“Shut up,” it’s your turn to blurt, your body swaying towards him until you push him to the side of the vacant road. “I didn’t even come near you most of the time.”
“I know, I know. You were fun to look at, though. Seemed to enjoy yourself every single time.”
Shit, why did he say that? Shouldn’t he hold onto the image he fostered; the one that’s permanently irked by you, throwing snarky remarks throughout the night?
And…
Didn’t this just break the banter, the frenemyship — frenmity? — the two of you have going on? Was it too nice? It’ll probably surprise you. Then again, is he a damn child? Why would he worry about such things? Question his own kindness?
Why would he hold onto his ego and deny you his humane side when you’ve been nothing but lovely to him all night?
The young adult rivalry is over, Jeon Jungkook. Look at her and fucking admit that you’re the arrogant one.
But funnily enough, you don’t seem to notice anyway.
“Hmmm, I do love my job,” you answer, “I have a lot of fun organising stuff. Doing something good for other people, right? See them enjoy it. I mean, of course there are days when things don’t go as planned, but.”
You lift a shoulder, indulging in the final remnants of your chewy mochi and the melted matcha ice cream inside.
“I know. It happens to me, too.”
“Really? How?”
Jungkook waves towards the sky, lists, “Heavy rain, lots of traffic, too spontaneous, issues with the camera… etcetera. Anything can happen.”
“Yeah — I get it. But yeah, I do love doing this. I meet a lot of nice people, too. And I guess that makes me feel very… blessed? It puts things into perspective.”
“How so?”
“Like, it makes you see that most people aren’t bad.”
Huh. Odd. Not that he’d ever deem the entire globe vile, putting a standardised label that he can impossibly prove. But as far as he has seen… too many people aren’t good either.
“Really?” he asks. “That’s a lucky thing to experience.”
You look genuinely surprised, turning towards him when you ask, “You don’t?”
“Uhm — rarely. I do enjoy photography. Always have.” His mind zooms into a glinting memory from the past, and his shoulders and voice rise when he recalls, “Y’know… My dad got me one of those yellow disposable Kodak cameras when I was a kid. I loved it so much.”
You nod; if he didn’t know better, he’d almost say you look… delighted. Actually interested.
“And events and weddings,” he continues, “they’re beautiful to capture. It’s probably the lights and the pretty people. And just… the memories?”
This time, he looks away, straight to the road; if he hadn’t, he’d know that your gaze is definitely fond now. No doubt about it. You listen in closely.
It’s the first time he’s talking to you like this, or to anyone — or for this long, for that matter. Most of your conversations were fleeting, fiery, a petulant back and forth that — he now realises — could’ve been something else, something better, too.
“But then it just sucks when so many of them can’t appreciate it properly,” he explains, raising his hands to emphasise, tone galled. “I mean, I look at my camera and I see a tool to create art. It’s… nothing I take for granted. Just think about it.”
The ball of fire in his chest grows; he feels it warm up, gassed-up. “A thing that can hold onto moments in absolute high definition, so that you can still remember them years later? The 18th century couldn’t have imagined. They needed to commit everything to memory just like that.”
“Wow, Jungkook… You really do love this, too.”
His arms fall to the side. He inhales the fresh flurry of air. Rethinks his passion for his job and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”
“…But?”
He knows what’s missing.
“I love the art, but I hate the clients. The event hosts. Not you, but the one even above you.”
Jungkook reckons this was a confession that long sat on his tongue unmentioned. Of course he thought about it; is always reminded when he attends these functions, standing at the back, at the front, left and right, unnoticed and taken for granted.
But now that it’s out and that he’s finally verbalised it to somebody… it definitely liberates something in his head.
You see his issue with these gatherings; he knows you do because he’s figured out this much. You’re filled with enough empathy, sympathy, every grand word ending on the same syllable to acknowledge his disappointment.
But you’re filled with humour and absurdity, too, evident in the answer you provide to diffuse the tension.
“So, that’s why you’re always in a foul mood.”
“Shu—”
“Shut up, yeah, yeah.” You giggle, but then halt for a moment, toying with the rim of your paper cup, “But you know, I think art is worth something even if just one person appreciates it. If it helps in any way… I’m always impressed. And I always appreciate it when I call you and you come despite finding me so annoying.”
One corner of your lips lifts, the smile humble and light; sends a pang of guilt through him. Have you always been so nice?
“Also, I do see the pictures almost every single time,” you add, “and you’re so good at this. At the job itself and the editing afterwards. Honestly.”
“…You think?”
Damn.
Jungkook would probably not bask in this hobby, continue his job if he wasn’t proficient in what he does. He’s known about his prowess ever since he was young.
But praises do offer a sense of magical warmth, don’t they? He doesn’t think any creative mind ever sickens of such unexpected support. And the way you say it… makes him want to never lay down his camera.
“Of course, yes,” you confirm, “not to shoot up your ego, but… you once sent a set of pictures where I found one of me. Don’t know if you even noticed? I was wearing that lilac dress and curls, I still remember — and—”
Stuck on the mention of your clothing, he immediately attaches a detail to the memory, “Sleeveless dress. Long silver earrings, right?”
“Oh… right…”
Right.
He won’t mention that he looked at that picture for just a second longer than at the others that night. Noticed for the first time how pretty you were. Not too deep of a thought, a twelve second stare, but… you wore this vibrant smile on that picture, and in some way, he did hope you’d see it, too.
It seems you did. He feels satisfied, proud even.
“Right,” you repeat, your defences somehow down, “uhm. I printed the picture. Still have it somewhere.”
Jungkook has already often wondered what people do with the pictures; put them in albums? Frame them and pin them over their couch? Right now, he also wonders — do you look at it a lot?
And this again begs the question — when you do, does your decision to book a vendor like him fill you with pride? Like your choice was right?
“That’s so nice,” he says.
“All that to say,” you inhale, “that I think you’re really fucking skilled.”
Woah. You weren’t quite certain if your consolation would bring him any solace, but you’ve done far more than that. You’ve shown him that you see what he does — and isn’t this what every artist craves? To be seen?
The tension buzzes between him and you like electricity; he doesn’t know if it’s just him lighting up or if you’re feeling a kindred link, too. But it’s somewhat intense in this moment of walking under the stars, surrounded by quietude and absolute pose.
So much so that he’s soon submerged by an odd urge to make the intensity wane, “Hey, does this feel to you like… a cliché chick flick kinda dialogue?”
You know…
The moment when two find an empty street in the middle of the night, realising that a conversation with each other isn’t the end of the world after all?
That type of thing?
But he doesn’t say any of it.
“Yeah? Maybe. But it’s also true,” you argue, “I’m an honest person and I don’t think I’d say anything I didn’t mean.”
“Ah, yeah?” Jungkook voices, taking the emptied out ice cream cup and throwing it into the bin on the side of the road, along with his own.
“Mhm, one hundred percent,” he hears you say, followed by a light, quiet smacking noise.
He doesn’t see what you’re doing until he arrives back where you stand; watches you lick the sticky rest off the pad of your thumb, smiling when you stare up at him again. It’s a mundane gesture; he’s done it ever since he was a kid.
But somehow, he can’t stop looking.
Might be the way your lips curve when you do it, or how your eyes smile when your mouth does. The authenticity you portray is rare; perhaps he just confused it with madness until now.
Seconds pass, and with that, your smile does, too. As it fades and drops, replaced by a curious expression and big eyes, you soon mutter, “What?”
There’s no response to that, really. He doesn’t know either.
He doesn’t understand how you turned out to be so right. How it’s such an ultimate truth that a serene night brings out a dreamy alter ego, hitherto undetected. Jungkook has never felt like much of a romantic, but right now, he thinks he’s on a different plane of reality.
This doesn’t feel like Earth; and the town doesn’t feel like the one he struts through during the day.
So maybe it’s not that wayward or groundless for him to lean in. To bend a bit more. Further and further until you laugh nervously; he knows you’re preparing to crack another joke, but you remain silent as he approaches.
Gauges your reaction. Will you run? You aren’t.
Instead, you gulp; let your pupils fall to his piercings, just when his own gaze moves to your lips. His right hand, tattooed, led by its own will, reaches for your cheek until he’s cupping it; and suddenly, his mouth parts — what’s happening? — and then—
And then, a vehicle roars from afar.
Both of you hear the motorcycle before you even see the blinding white light; he grips your arm, probably too harshly, dodging the street with you and jumping onto the pedestrian walk.
One must be crazy to still drive through the city at this hour. Right?
You pant, mixed with insane chuckles of relief, “Shit. We almost died.”
“We didn’t,” he refutes, “we had plenty of time.”
“Oh no,” you stretch the last word, eyes squinting. An accusing forefinger points at him before you deduce, “We almost died because you like me. Of all things!”
“I do not. You just looked kinda cute.”
Jungkook might’ve attempted an indifferent answer, but instead, he steered into an excuse that you do not accept at all. Your smirk is telling and satisfied, and if he wasn’t trying to prove a point, your Cheshire Cat grin would’ve made him laugh, too.
“But you did almost kiss me,” you persist.
Ugh, you’re bold. Laughing like it means nothing; no embarrassment, no shy restraint in you. Which is probably not too bad; somehow even charming. Explains the rosy dust on his cheeks at least. He feels it in the heat, can’t believe he almost kissed you just now.
Why does he feel like a hormonal adolescent? It’s not like he’s never kissed anybody.
You’re still enclosed by pure delight, nudging his arm repeatedly, annoyingly. And when he doesn’t answer, choosing reticence instead, you nearly shriek, as if he confirmed all you just said.
His instinctive hand slaps up to your mouth, covering it, shushing you. You’re still smiling, working on removing his palm, but before your nonsense can proceed, a sudden light flickers in the corner of Jungkook’s eye.
Immediately, he seeks out the source, soon finding a room in the house left to him lighting up. You woke somebody, it seems. A silhouette becomes clearer, its edges more refined with every second, and just before the owner of the place can shove the curtains aside, you grip Jungkook’s hand.
Within a moment, he finds himself tugged away by you, running, nearly stumbling over his own feet. You blurt, “Better get away before they kill us.”
As you leave the tranquil settlement behind, Jungkook still hears a voice from an open window, cursing the younger generation as they do; and then, out of the damn blue, a fucking dog barks.
When you turn over your shoulder, mouth dropping open, Jungkook knows you’re thinking the same as him — this happens outside of cinematic universes, too?
It takes a minute until you’ve reached another road again; one of the kind he’s more familiar with. The city type. The two of you come to a halt near some pole, and you let his hand go, leaning against it.
For a moment, you work on catching your breath, Jungkook’s hands settling on his thighs. And then, when your eyes meet, you burst into a fit of laughter, followed by a playful wiggle of his eyebrows to which you respond, “Don’t act innocent. This is your fault.”
“What? You were lau—”
“Because of you! Oh, I know you want me so bad.”
You’re jesting, of course. Swaying your head, poking his chest, a brat straight out of some TV show. But what you can do, he’s been perfecting for years.
So he answers in kind, “And if I did?”
Only for you to utter something that not even his brain can compute.
“If you did? Then… I think I’d let you.”
“Ah… Yeah? Why?”
“Because— I think you’re just half as bad.”
His snicker is half amused, half flattered. He purses his lips, nodding, and then declares, “You’re just a quarter as bad. But guess I’ve gotten so tired that I’ve started doing weird shit.”
You click your tongue, puffing out a breath, instantly reacting when he only flicks your chin and then walks away. Your startled expression prevails, a distance between him and you established, but just as he puts his hands in his jeans, he hears you finally follow.
“Hey,” you voice from behind, tapping his arm, “are you really tired?”
“I was kidding, but. Honestly? A little.”
“…Hmm. You know, my friend lives in an apartment nearby. Jieun? Didn’t move too far from her old home. We could stop there.”
Jungkook’s left eyebrow leaps up, surprised by the suggestion; the idea doesn’t sound too bad. But…
“Wasn’t the deal to go around for a whole night, though?”
“Ohhh. Are you starting to like it?”
You’re observant, he’ll give you that.
“I’m just saying,” he adds, “and also, would she just let a stranger in?”
“Oh, she’s very civilised and hospitable. She wouldn’t mind, and she’s known me for ages. She trusts me.” Maybe you detect the hesitation in his eyes and the twitch of the corner of his lips, because you immediately carry on, “We can just stay for an hour and then go.”
“Would she be awake, even?”
“She’s a night owl. I know that.”
“Uhm…”
He ponders. In some way, he’s kind of liking the breeze, the quiet side of this town. But… would Jieun find that weird? Then again, can he say no? You’re ogling at him with these hopeful eyes; maybe you need the rest, after all.
“Okay,” he says; he even thinks you jump a bit in joy, nodding.
“Okay! You’ll like her. We can leave with newfound energy afterwards. Okay, cool.”
That’s all you need to lead the way. You look around a little, making sure you’re approaching the right direction, and when you find your confidence again, you march ahead.
Your walk is energetic, not too idle anymore, your beam as dashing and fervid as ever. Jungkook knows his way around editing programs; he’s added wings to pictures before or removed unwelcome passersby on an otherwise great photo.
He even understands how to surround a body or silhouette with a glow; but he’s never seen it around an actual person outside of all these graphics editors before.
Your body is so clearly encircled by it.
Bedazzling.
Screw the 18th century. Even in these modern times of advancement, Jungkook doesn’t think he needs a camera to commit you to memory.
3:25AM, Her
You avert your eyes from the phone and turn towards Jungkook, reaching him where he’s planted firmly in front of the apartment complex. He’s been waiting, back settled against the wall, and as you near, his eyebrows rise in question.
Your friend didn’t respond until now — but just as you foretold, she’s still awake at this ungodly hour.
“Okay. She’s home, but,” you explain, already ringing the bell to her apartment, “she said she’d be leaving soon. Sounds like she’s in a rush. Typos and all.”
Jungkook waits until the buzzing sound of the opening door ceases and you’ve stepped inside, leading him up the stairs, and then wonders again with big eyes, “And she’ll just let us stay? Alone at her apartment?”
You wave his concerns off with a hand’s gesture, “She trusts me, dude. I’ve done this a couple times.”
“What for?”
Hm… you dive back into the old days. Some new, some old. What were they again? They’re mostly blurred, but some of them are carved in your core memory.
“Oh, just…” you reminisce. “If I wanted to meet guys and wouldn’t want to bring them home back when I was still with my parents? Or when I’d need a night to sober up. They would’ve killed me if I’d come home drunk. And Jieun moved out early.”
“How old is… Jieun anyway?”
Old. Not really, but you like to vex her to the point of a pout. She’s patient, but she’s also an incredibly close friend — you allow yourself to be a brat with her and she allows herself to roll her eyes.
“Early 90s kid?” you guess. “A little older than us.”
‘93, as far as you remember.
“Ah. Damn,” he voices; you don’t know why.
“Okay.” You climb the last steps to the second floor, halting in front of a white door with a copper number six on top of it. Knock thrice. “Here goes.”
She might’ve been getting ready close to the door, working on her shoes or questing for her keys. Because she opens mere three seconds later, with a radiant smile on her face able to melt hearts, and a comfortable attire that’s, however, not comfortable enough to wear at home.
A thin sweatshirt and a bun, loose strands framing her pretty face, and shorts that are definitely meant to be worn outside. She won’t be here for long. And you’re focused on this very fact and her hurry so much that you nearly don’t register how shy Jungkook gets.
His voice is somewhat smaller than before when he looks at her; your eyes shift to him, and he’s blinking before he finally breaks and mutters, “Oh. Hi.”
“Hey!” she retorts; she looks so sweet saying it. You understand his perplexity. “Date?”
“Nah. Just a friend,” you answer, which, yet again — very confusing — makes him hum in question. If he started regarding himself as your date all of a sudden, you swear…
You smile.
“Just a friend,” you repeat.
“Fabulous. So you’re not walking around alone, at least,” Jieun concludes, letting you in. In the living room, a hand on her kitchen island, she points through an open door, “Okay, so, the guest room bed is made. Use blankets on it, if you want to rest.”
Her finger shifts to signal to the entrance you came through, imitates a pulling motion, “Don’t worry about locking the door whenever you leave. Also got some leftover food in the fridge, but there’s also cup ramyeon and some frozen pizza in the freezer. Sorry… I need to go shop—”
But you interrupt, shaking your head, “Oh, no worries, really. We just ate, so we’ll just stay here for a little, work off the food coma and leave. Won’t damage anything.”
“I know you won’t, baby.”
She moves to fetch her purse from the couch, and Jungkook uses the moment to whisper in your ear, “Where is she going anyway?”
You don’t know; you shrug your shoulders, pursing your lower lip, but echo his question a moment later, louder than him, “Where are you going anyway?”
Previously cramming in her purse, checking it for content, she looks at you again, telling you, “Ah… Jongsuk is having a bad night and wants me to come over.” Regarding Jungkook, she adds, “My boyfriend. He’s an insomniac and got stoned tonight, too, and just—”
Jieun blows a raspberry, raising a hand for a whatever gesture, and Jungkook mumbles, “Oof. Sounds…”
“Yeah… I know. In any case. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you so much.”
“Thanks, Jieun,” you repeat.
She nods once more, waving her tiny hand and flashes one last smile before she’s out the door and has left you in full silence. You shuffle your feet for just a second before you look at him again; he still looks somewhat in a daze.
So you ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing.”
Nothing, right… that’s what they all say after seeing Lee Jieun for the first time. You try not to think too hard about the teeny tiny sting in your enormous, delicate heart. Only let him know, “Don’t worry too much. What could happen? She does trust me.”
You take a couple steps towards the bedroom she offered you, and you hear him follow. Look at the neatly made bed, a thought occurring; but you don’t entertain it yet. Only add, “Besides, she owes me.”
He chuckles. “That’s how you live your life, huh?”
“It’s alright. We’ll just be here for an hour. She’s known me all her life, so nothing to doubt here. And also, think about it,” the tip of your forefinger taps against your temple, “even if something did happen or went missing, she’d know where to find me and whom to report.”
He waits, ogles at you. Then presses his lips together, nods as if you made all the sense in the world, and lifts a shoulder — agreeing, “If you say so. Then uhm — let’s lay down for a bit?”
“Sure! I’ll just sleep in her room, so you can have your privacy here.”
“Mhm. Okay.”
You stand at the door frame for a moment, feet unmoving.
He’s already turned away. And you regret not walking away when you watch him unabashedly take off the blazer and provide a glimpse to his snatched waist as inked fingers scratch his back briefly, shirt moving up. But then it’s covering his skin again.
Flawless back; pretty golden. A little further up, and you’re sure you would’ve seen strong shoulder blades, too. He’s worn fancy dress shirts at luxurious events before — you know many would kill for his built, because you’ve seen his bicep flex before.
You forget where you are for a second, but when he opts to turn, eyes on you for just a heartbeat, you stir. Blurt out an awkward apology, and then leave. Wish him a good night, barely waiting for one back before you close the door.
You laugh quietly at yourself.
Her room is just next door; you already mentally prepare for a nap. Meanwhile, Jungkook plumps onto the bed, groaning when the comfort hits, and works on getting used to the ceiling, if only briskly.
He only notices how much his head is spinning when he closes his eyes, ready to doze off. Should he set an alarm? He doesn’t want to still be here by the time Jieun returns. Maybe he should tell you, too.
But his body won’t move.
Yet, in the time he’s failed to make up his mind, he suddenly hears a knock at the door again. Must be you — must be telepathy.
He tells you to enter, and you do with a shy demeanour; only thirty seconds must have passed, right? A minute, tops. He looks at you in wonder, and you explain, “She uh— locked her room. No clue where the keys are. Guess that’s why she specifically pointed out the guest room.”
You nibble your lip, getting no answer back. He looks just as much out of ideas as you, and you still refuse to bring back the thought from before; yet, you ask, “What do we do now?”
“Well…” He looks around, though there is not much to take in. “I can sleep on the couch?”
“…The couch is too small.”
“Okay. Then I’ll just sleep on the floor.” He’s already working on getting up, no hesitation, scratching through his now messy hair, feet moving on the fluffy carpet. “I’ll take one of those pillows, though. Carpet should be good eno— what are you doing?”
You’ve charged towards the bed, climbed past him until you’re sitting behind him, facing his back and his craning neck. You say, “I’m not giving you that pillow.”
“Why?”
“You can’t sleep on the floor.”
“…Why not?”
You throw an unbelieving look, as if it’s obvious. Your flat hand gestures towards the carpet vaguely, and you argue, “It’s uncomfortable.”
“Listen, I should. This or the couch, nothing else left.” It’s crazy to you how he doesn’t even consider the bed instead of giving it up for you. “It’s just an hour. Don’t worry about it.” He stretches a hand towards you, curling his fingers in a grabby motion. “Come on. Gimme that.”
You’re astonished — beyond pleased about the fact that he cares like this. That he’s so… mindful and humble. You give up; he won’t falter and you know.
“Okay… then take this blanket, too.”
He grabs the second one that Jieun provided, head bowing a little as he says, “Thank you.”
The proceeding minutes you spend preparing for bed, slightly discomforted by your dress, pass in half-awkward, half-comfortable silence. He lays down on his unusual spot, and you cuddle into the blanket on your light, soft side.
As the rustling of blankets and sheets subsides, it gives way to the sound of the ticking clock; you focus on it, count the clicks like sheep.
But sleep doesn’t quite fall upon you yet, and you guess Jungkook feels similar when he calls your name and asks, “What does she owe you?”
Your head moves towards his voice, even though he can’t see you. “Huh?”
“Jieun. What does she owe you? And your coworker.”
“Oh. Uh. Honestly, just kindness.”
You can already see it — doe eyes rolling at another one of your cryptic answers. You know people don’t fathom your thoughts very well, and some feel annoyed by your dreamy outlook of the world. You don’t mind, but you wonder what he’s thinking.
But all he responds with is, “What?”
“Well, just. They’ve known me for ages. I’ve been there for Jieun for so long, and Jongin has always been so incredibly nice to me. Picked me up when I was dead drunk once and brought me home. Got me medicine and everything. And I’ve lent him some comfort over the years, too.”
It hasn’t been too long, so you remember. You’ve been good friends with him ever since you started your job; a steady part of your team. He and you have got each other’s back.
“These two are friends,” you say, “and I think kindness is the most we can give our loved ones.”
Jungkook hesitates. Have you bored him to sleep? Or is he pondering your words, thinking of you as weird? Maybe not—
Because he actually converses, asking, “You think? Doesn’t that mean we’re just kind to them then, so they can be kind to you in return?”
“I mean… yes and no. Owing might be the wrong word. I’m not nice to others to get something back. I’m like this because I want to be and because the world can be shitty and it’s important to be nice, and in return, I want people to be nice to me, too. It’s not an eye to eye kind of thing, it’s just about. Spreading affection in relationships. It’s what they’re here for.”
“…Hm. Is this why you’re never rude to me? Even when I deserve it,” he asks, registering a hum. “You know… you think really… uniquely.”
This is a nice way to phrase it at least. People like you; you’re good with them. But sometimes, they can be mean, too. Not that you mind. It’s natural — people occur in all types and shapes.
“But is it unique, though? Isn’t it a given?” you question.
“Yeah, probably, I just— never thought of it this deeply.”
“Mmmh. So is me thinking uniquely a compliment? I can’t say.”
He laughs, and you join immediately, exclaiming an, “I’m serious!” in the middle of it all. Jungkook’s snicker is authentic, so you enjoy hearing it; but you like his answer even better.
“Maybe. I just… I feel like a lot of people try to be different these days. Or play a role to be perceived a certain way? But I think you’re genuine — you actually mean the things you say without any hidden intention to make people forcefully like you, right?”
An intention? Oddly phrased. You think, though… that what he said was nice.
Still, you confirm, “I don’t try to be anyone for people to like me.”
“I didn’t say otherwise! This is actually just what I meant. Besides, people like you anyway because you’re you.” As if he’s reading your mind. “That’s what I was saying.”
You hum, blinking at the ceiling and the little modern light hanging there, the beam off. The darkness pleasant. You conjure another question and ask, “So you think me being me is a good thing?”
You always considered it was. You like being you. But Jungkook didn’t like whatever makes up your personality — has this changed? Apparently.
“Of course,” he surprisingly answers, “it’s always a good thing. And just because I disagree with some of your characteristics, it doesn’t mean everybody will.” Oh. Well. But wait— “Or maybe, I’m just a moaner.”
Well.
“That you are,” you verify.
“Damn.”
“But, but— you’re kind, too, you know? Not everyone says the things you just said.”
“Maybe.”
“So…” you stall, rethinking his prior words. “Do you still disagree with all those characteristics of mine?”
Another joyous sound tumbles out of him, much in the form of a breather than a laugh; hushed, but you still hear it clearly. Perhaps you’re being a little awkward; but in all honesty, you hope he’s just finding it amusing, somewhat cute.
“I mean — you’re too blunt. But brave, like, I could never. The thing you did at the shop? Never. But this isn’t bad. And you aren’t bad.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His voice is a whisper. Reminds you of a feeling akin to temptation; your mind automatically imagines the susurrating sound near your ear, exhaling the very syllable he just did. Frankly, you’re absolutely tortured by the knowledge of him being this close.
That you could probably touch his face if you rolled over to the edge of the bed, letting your arm dangle, seeking his skin. That he’s in the same room, talking to you this gently, saying things that a girl doesn’t hear too often these days anymore.
There it is. The intrusive thought from before… prevailing.
And you’re tortured by it. But mostly, by the image of him standing in front of you between the houses just a little time ago, staring at you, pupils flitting back and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he neared you. How he almost kissed you.
You might’ve joked about it then, but deep down, and especially now, you’re intrigued by the idea. Of the fantasy of a what if — what if he’d actually kissed you?
Taking a deep breath, you look to the side, staring at the door and call, “Hey, Jungkook.”
“Hm?”
“Is it uncomfortable down there?”
“Uh… a little.”
You shuffle at your spot, turning to the side. “Just thinking. What good does it do if we don’t rest well? What are we here for?”
“…What are you talking about?”
Pause. Quietude. You close your eyes, then open them again.
You’re never shy; so you don’t deem it an advantage for yourself to turn timid now either. You tell him, “Come up. I know you want to. I know I want you to.”
He doesn’t say anything; you bite your tongue. Maybe it was a mistake. But then his voice chimes again, wondering, “Are you sure?”
Your answer is immediate.
“Of course. Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay… okay.”
As he starts to move, you gulp. You make place on the bed, moving to your previous side, pushing the blanket aside in case he wants to slip under it, too. The motions of his silhouette seem uncertain as he makes his way up to you, as if he’s uncomfortable with it.
“I… Was I wrong…? Do you not want to?” you make sure.
“What?” you hear him say; see his head shake. “Ah, that’s not it. Just want to make sure you’re really okay with it. I’m not the type of guy to…”
“I know. It’s fine. I don’t think you are.”
“Okay.” The mattress bulges where he lays down before it evens out again. He emits a couple groaning sounds, probably glad to give his back something proper. You turn to him just when he says, “Honestly… that’s a little better, yeah.”
“Thought so. Are you tired?”
“Definitely.”
“But you’re not sleeping.”
“Because you’re talking.”
Wrong. There was enough silence for him to nod off before. He was the one who started the conversation at all; you were ready to turn and toss and rest eventually.
When you don’t respond, his head turns on his pillow, too; in the darkness that you got used to, you see his eyes twinkle. Both of you know that you’re looking at each other. And he’s kind of close — closer than you thought.
And… if you’re not wrong, he just inched nearer only a nanomoment ago. He repeats in a whisper, once more accusing, “You’re talking, that’s why.”
“That’s really why, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“The only reason there really is?”
“What else could there be?”
You smile, brazen, letting out the courage you’ve gathered, “Well, I know what else it is for me.”
“Yeah?”
Daring a step further, you graze his shirt featherlightly; you don’t know whether he notices. Not until he moves his hand, fingers ghosting near yours.
Waiting until you reveal with sheer, sudden heart palpitations, “I… I want you to kiss me. You do, too, don’t you?”
He inhales, but doesn’t exhale. What does it mean? You don’t know.
You don’t know what it is until you hear the smile in his words, gentle yet tantalising when he says, “…I do.”
“Good. Good. Then kiss me.”
And the rest proceeds without hesitation and without another plea.
His body moves as if on its own accord; he seems possessed, or controlled by a puppeteer. Warm lips lock with yours before you can draw another breath.
They feel soft, full, like tiny pillows, a contrast to the metal of his piercings. And they move gently, so carefully, like he’s still scared of crossing a line despite your permission. But when you lean into him, hoping for more proximity, he blossoms a little. Initiates more.
Oh, he, too, has been waiting for this, hasn't he?
A hand, nearly as warm as his kiss, slithers up to your face, holding you closer to him. The bangs that so often cover his forehead are tickling yours now, his head tilting to give his cute nose more space.
And with that, he deepens the kiss, too. Dares a step further, separating your lips with his, trying things out. He gauges your reaction as the tip of his tongue sneaks its way into the mix, and the moment you do the same, he dives in properly.
Kisses you just a little harder, tasting you, sighing into the movements as if all the weight of the world has dropped off his shoulders. As if he’s relieved, calmed down, resting for the first time tonight.
Yet, at the same time, he’s firing himself up — moving over your body slowly, holding onto your mouth to his best abilities, as if you’d disperse if he let go for too long. As if you’d change your mind.
He cages you in to keep you underneath, not touching your face anymore but shoving his fingers into your already tousled hair. If you were still in your right mind, you’d recognise how insane this situation is. Your younger self would’ve never predicted such a moment to ever become part of your life.
But it is… it is so clearly being played into your hard drive; somehow, you already know it’ll remain stuck in your memory: the way he’s kissing you, so thirsty, so insatiable. How he’s sighing, relaxed, yet sporting an audible heartbeat against your chest.
He uses moments of switching sides to breathe but continues right away; the keenness drives you crazy. You touch his shoulders and then wrap your arms around him firmly, making him hasten closer until he’s nearly falling onto you.
What in the heavenly make out sessions is this…
It’s nasty, yet sweet. Followed by quick breaths; it takes merely a minute until you feel his lower body grinding into you, his jeans tight around his crotch all of a sudden. And the second you realise he’s hardening beneath them, your body reacts.
Reacts so effectively.
Your lower tummy tickles, dampness pooling below as he pushes into you again, harder this time. You moan, enticed by your goosebumps and the heavy bulge. Solid enough for you to crave him within a moment’s notice.
And it only worsens threefold when he whispers, “Fuck… Somebody really knows how to kiss, huh?”
“You’re talking. What was this—” He so rudely interrupts with another peck, and you laugh into it. “Yeah, this…”
Your last word dissipates like candle smoke; you don’t even know why you bother to speak. Your voice is barely perceptible when his teeth remove the short sleeve of your dress, kissing your shoulder and then down to your cleavage.
It’s easy to remove your dress; it’s light, summer-y — but he doesn’t bare you just yet. Plays around at the mounds of your tits until he pushes the neck of the dress down a bit, asking, “May I take it off?”
Oh, if you could count the times you’ve imagined his veiny hands removing this damn dress just in the last fifteen minutes…
“Of course,” you permit, “do I look like I’d reject you?”
“Mmmh.” The hum is proud, satisfied, vocalised amidst another kiss to your clavicles. “Just making sure.”
Soft, warm hands trail up your leg, leaving a path of another set of goosebumps. You want him to stay right there on your thigh, knead the flesh, press into it, showcase the lust he feels in the beguiling pain.
But instead, he pushes up your dress, fingers ghosting over your ass — and when he doesn’t find your panties but only bare skin, he stops kissing you. Looks at you. Makes out the string of your thong a second later — in the dark, you discern the way his lips round in captivation.
He’s loving this.
He tugs at the string and lets it snap back into place; you gasp even though it doesn’t hurt, but it drives you mad when he states, “Wow. Very intriguing.”
Leaving it at this for just now, he kisses you again, tongues mingling once more before he releases a sharp, nearly aggressive hiss and mumbles, “Holy fuck. I can’t stop.”
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” you guarantee.
“Good. Good, good, good.”
The dress surrounds your waist now, stopping below your breasts, and Jungkook journeys down to drag his lips around the spots he hasn’t touched yet. As if he’s trying to familiarise himself with all of you, working towards the goal of memorising you entirely.
His teeth scrape at your pelvis just lightly, seemingly contemplating whether he wants to destroy these panties or not — but then decides against it. You wouldn’t mind; you’re not showing anybody anything of you tonight but him.
And you’re already such a mess; breathing so irregularly, letting out his name and quiet sighs. He should know he could do basically anything. That you’re ready for him.
But instead, he only curses again, sucking at your skin harshly, nails digging into your hips. And then, from below, you hear him say, “Want you to suck my dick so bad.” He moves up, fingertips on your cheek, rubbing himself against your underwear, and questions, “Will you suck my dick, baby?”
Oh, he didn’t just…
Oh, the way the pet name screws with your head is irreversible. You feel sick at the mention, breathing out hard, about to get up at the speed of light to swallow him fully; to the hilt.
But you won’t give him the satisfaction yet; you’ve gotten used to the darkness, and seeing the hazy insanity in his eyes spurs you on to play with him a bit more. So you lift your body, giving him hope, but then say, “I have a better idea.”
“Ah? Where are you going?”
“Wait.”
He quietens. Falls to the side and onto his back as he watches whatever you’re trying to do unfold. You look back at him for just a blink of an eye, but you immediately perceive the hand cupping his clothed dick, moving a bit, up and down.
“Okay. Should work on this first,” you say, straddling him backwards.
You hike up your dress more, baring your back to him, and you instantly hear the breath he releases. Feel the palm touching your spine, grazing it; you imagine huge eyes ogling at you like he’s reached nirvana. You so hope he’s looking at you like this.
“My God…” he only mutters, however, proving your point when he opts to get up. But you turn as much as you can, a flat hand pushing him down again, to which he complains, “What?”
“I told you to wait, silly. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You sure? You’re being pretty mean right now.”
“I’m not being mean. You’re just not patient,” you laugh. “Give me a second and I’ll wreck your world, ‘kay?”
“Ah?”
“Mhm.”
“That I wanna se— oh. Oh.”
Exactly.
Once you’re done pulling off the dress, you shift back, enough for your pussy to align with his gorgeous face. Jungkook instinctively grabs your ass to pull you lower, and you chuckle at the restless gesture.
But you need to focus; and as best and tidily as you can, you unbutton his jeans, zipping them open until you detect his shorts. He raises his hips to help you, and you bite your lower lip, crazed by the sight that awaits you once the jeans are halfway down.
The bulge is big indeed. The imprint is insane; the light from outside allows glimpses, and you salivate, bowing your head to kiss him above his underwear, feeling him stir. And he imitates, blowing against your wetness, his finger — middle one? — curling around the string digging between your ass cheeks.
When he frees your pussy, you feel it. It hits the air in the room coldly, a contrast to his hot breath. A second more and you might drip into his tantalising mouth, just how you’re drooling over the cock you finally set free.
It springs out, veiny under your touch. Hard. Thick and long. Everything good, a fucking ideal package. You scold him, “You’ve been hiding this from me?”
“Huh? I wasn’t hiding.”
“Now I realise just how mean you are, man,” you say, shaking your head, spitting onto the slit before wiping it off again with the tip of your tongue. He swears again. “Could’ve had this make me hoarse so long ago.”
“Fuck,” he replicates, “stop talking, or I’ll fuck this mouth of yours. You want to be hoarse so bad, then try me.”
“Is this a threat? You really think I won’t let you? Stay right there, little—” You look again. “Big man. You can do whatever you want, but wait a second, alright?”
“Nah. You’re not the only one teasing. You brat,” Jungkook whispers sharply, delivering a smack to your ass; you gasp. “I just…”
You don’t know what he just — you only know that he’s attaching his mouth to your cunt right away, thong pushed aside, diving in with a tongue so eager. You squint your eyes shut, lips parting, calling his name as he holds you there roughly.
He soon wraps his arms around your hips, like a belt, lips intense as he kisses you even wetter. The sounds he eludes are dirty, sinful; and the feeling of his piercings doesn’t add to your sanity.
You decide to not let this distract you; he’s competitive, you realised, but you are, too. So you lean in, lips wrapping around the tip. Your right hand enfolds his cock, pumping him, tracing every firm vein that protrudes. He’s so pretty all around.
“Shit,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear; only continue to work your tongue around the head, setting the nerves alight as he’s doing for you.
You kiss down the shaft, licking and humming to create a sort of vibration. And then, you take him in as much as you can. Despite being large, barely fitting, soon hitting your throat, you try. Hollow your cheeks, bop your head, gifting him your attention.
But it’s hard. So hard because—
God, he’s lapping you up so good.
So hungry. Out to kill you as he releases the prior belt, bringing two fingers to your pussy and thrusting them into you slowly. Mouth and digits; both at once. Thumb against the clenching hole between your ass.
He’s distracted every now and then, much like you, but he still maintains a steady pace. Cruel… so cruel. Those damn fingers propelling into you, harder sometimes before they slow down again. Curling to hit you just right, massaging the rough, walnutty spot.
Oh, Jungkook knows… knows exactly what to do.
They don’t make men like him anymore.
Your ass clenches when his skills exceed your expectations and he rubs your insides particularly well, mouth just right above your clit as the tongue circles around it. It’s nearly overwhelming; you could cry with this mouthful of dick impaling your throat.
He feels so good on you. So good in you. You want all of you filled, not just your mouth. So you soon let go with a plop, a string of saliva so lewdly connecting your mouth and his member, and you wipe your mouth.
Tell him, “This should be enough.”
And he agrees immediately, smacking his lips, as if licking up the remnants of his food, “Fuck yes. Enough.”
You want to get into the next position, put in some work, but what you don’t expect is that Jungkook is already planning a step ahead. Tapping your ass with his big manly palm, pushing you off of him until you’re crawling on all fours.
Submitted to him. And you don’t mind a bit — just for now, just for him, you’ll give into this because you’ve been craving it. It’s okay; you vow to yourself that in a while, you’ll wreck his shit just as much.
On your elbows and knees, you hear him shifting, the mattress dipping, his knees nearing you and closing your legs in. The palm covering the right side of your ass causes it to jiggle, and when you push your butt towards his pelvis, he praises, “The way you know what to do without me needing to tell you. How convenient.”
“Well,” you breathe out, “it’s not my first rodeo. But do make it the best… okay?”
“No pressure at all, huh? I’ll try my best.”
You want to react, bring a laugh straight out of your throat, but Jungkook is faster. The reaction comes alright, but not as you wanted it to. But rather in a high-pitched moan, arms quivering when he fists his cock, guiding it to your leaking cunt, and rubs the tip between your pussy folds.
You reckon he’s testing out how eager you already are; you contemplate on telling him. On pleading, on saying something that might drive him to action. You don’t mention a single word, though; only let your ass speak once more, steering towards him until he gets the message.
He must have.
Because he clicks his tongue as if to admonish you for your shortage of patience, though only briefly before he surrenders to the itch you cause. Scratching without hesitation now, he finally helps you lose your damn panties and then dips himself into you slowly.
Of course; with a length like his, there’s no way you’d be able to survive a quick push. Jungkook knows to be cautious, penetrating you sweetly; an oxymoron in a moment like this. Your fingers digging into the sheets reveal as much; there’s not much going on yet, but you’re already holding onto the soundness of your mind so desperately.
“Shit, what the fuck,” you murmur, your turn to let out profanities; you’re sure this isn’t your last. “You scared of something, Jeon? I’m… I have an IUD.”
“Scared? No. You’re not an idiot, right?” he whispers. “You would’ve told me if you couldn’t do it like this. Much rather…” He breathes heavily between his words. “I’m taking you in, y’know? Enjoying — fuck — how wet and warm you are… Gonna wreck you raw, though, no p-problem.”
No, your foul words were certainly not the last for tonight; his dick is just halfway through when he stops and another tumbles out of you. He drags the thickness back, then inside again.
Your walls are occupied to their last inch, and you know you could take all of him if you just gave yourself some time — but somehow, his care turns you on even more.
Goddamn, he’s good. All of him — his dick, his voice, his mouth, his touch. He’s so— nnghh…
You have never witnessed his fingers do much more than take the pictures you love. Whenever he operates the button with his forefinger, flexing the inked crown above his knuckle, you already know the man has a talent unmatched.
But right now… right now you have an entirely different perception of these same digits.
Like, when he leans in a bit, still deep inside you, undoing your bra in a smooth motion. Or when he caresses your back, along your spine, contradicting the touch with a harsher, harder jab now.
And shit, when he pulls your ass cheeks apart, digging in further, fucking through your seeping hole until he’s covered in slick, too. It must look so good to him; incredibly memorable.
Your whimpers are quiet and gentle, matching the way he fucks you, only rising in volume when he decides to push another inch in. You behave; you whine softly; that is until all of a sudden, he pulls back most of his cock and shoots back in, colliding with your ass with a slapping sound.
Yelping, you hold the sheets until your fingers hurt, and he bolts forwards, a hand slamming your mouth shut and muffling your mewls. Way too close to your ear, he says, “Sh sh sh… my God. Jieun has neighbours, babe — don’t spoil her reputation.”
He proceeds to kiss the skin under your ear, taking your arms captive until they’re pinned to your back. Fingers intertwine messily, holding your limbs in place, and as he frees your mouth again, you laugh — it’s all you can do to not feel too weirded out by the mention of Jieun’s name right now.
You tell him, “Use my panties then.”
“Your panties, huh? Do you want me to?” You nod, but he’s not obliging enough to give into your wishes. Teasing you to no end. “Nah. I’ll just…”
Jungkook doesn’t finish the sentence; what he does is much more alluring, nearly forcing tears of lust to your waterline. He grabs the back of your neck, urging you to look at him, and just as you register his face close to yours, he kisses you again.
Your body immediately blossoms. You breathe as much as the kiss allows, yielding to his tongue. Let him push you down and into the mattress, imprisoning you under him. And he kisses you… kisses you… kisses you more…
Basks in your dimmed moans as he hits from behind again, hard. Sheathes himself inside you thoroughly and with impact; he’s enjoying the fact that you want to yell, but need to restrain yourself at this time of the night.
Because he’s right. You don’t want Lee Jieun to earn looks in the morning because of you.
As if provoking you, he blatantly asks, “You good?”
“Yes— yes!”
“Mhm…”
He’s out of breath; can barely emit another word. But he doesn’t waste any moment at all; kisses your neck, bites your earlobe. Pushes his hands under your body to get ahold of your tits. Fucks you into space, lifting one of your hands to your face, entangling his fingers with yours.
You shift up and down the mattress, just a little; the position, with him on you, doesn’t allow too many extreme movements, and you’re more than fine with it. There’s something about him going unhinged on you like this.
But… it does awaken the need to retaliate, too.
So you use the opportunity when he decides to pause, running out of energy, gasping for breath. He leaves you empty and yearning, pulling back and sitting up, and judging from the touch on your tummy, you assume he wants to flip you on your spot.
Instead, however, you turn on your own accord, both palms that he held captive minutes ago shoving at him. He produces a strange sound as he falls backwards, landing on the mattress and onto the pillow with big eyes that almost don’t fit his Greek God-esque physique.
Goodness, the damp dark hair. The abs. The pecs. The nipples…
You might dribble onto his sweaty, shiny skin. And you don’t veil your innermost thoughts this time, straddling him as you say, “My turn. Need to ride you so bad.”
He visibly relaxes; leads his fingers to your hips, thumb drawing patterns on them. His tongue darts out to play with the lip rings, and he eyes you up and down. He’s taking you in for the first time properly, just as you are him.
Just as your eyes drifted over his muscular body, he now makes stops along the journey — your pussy on the length of his cock. The tits and the perked nipples. The ruined hair, sticking to your collarbones.
You wonder how he likes what he sees.
Probably enough if he can respond with something like, “I won’t stop you.”
Good to know.
So you take a comfortable seat on top of him, still keeping him down, lining up your sex with his. When you welcome him in again this time, you do so fully. No slow torture, no waiting. You claim your throne until your ass hits his hardened balls.
He says, not quite expecting an answer, so you don’t give one, “You’ll kill me today, right?”
And then you start. Put in all the effort you can gather. He feels heavenly inside you, the perfectly curved length moving just the way it needs to. His groans and calls of your names sound promising, telling; you suppose you’re doing a good enough job if his eyes roll back like this.
The hands on your hips push into your flesh more, and when you remove one and bring it to your mouth, sucking his forefinger with your eyes set on him, he loses his shit. Starts pumping up from below, meeting your up-and-down ministrations.
“Shi— what— do you think,” he attempts, stagnant breathing, “you’re doing…”
But he’s grunting in ardour, so you don’t stop; don’t let him take over fully just yet. No — you roll your hips, bend your back, catch a patch of his hair and then angle your body to crash your lips onto his.
The kiss weakens his defences. For a moment, you do feel his nails bruising your skin, but another second later, his touch is as soft as a feather. He’s so ultimately at your mercy that he lets you trace his abs and kiss his pecs.
Lets you get into a crouch, your palms settling below his chest for support. And then… then you navigate north and south, repeatedly, fucking him into you with vigour. He throws his head back, but then looks at you again, blinking fast before his eyes squint shut once more.
“The fuck are you—” he tries, but you start circling his cock again, moving in eight-curves, seeking support in his biceps.
“What?” you voice. “Not good?”
“You fucking— kidding me?” His lower lip trembles when he parts his mouth. You see it even with the lights dimmed. “This is such… a good fucking pussy. I was an idiot to push you aside.”
You’re too dazed to really pout, but you do hear the undertone; ask to clarify, “You’re just saying that f-for… getting my pussy, huh?”
“What— no. Fuck no. Look at me.” His hand reaches out, fingers poking into your cheeks, and he pulls you down to him, makes you meet his eyes. You slow down. “I wouldn’t just do this for any pussy— I… not with you. I don’t just. I don’t just go home with anybody. ‘Kay?”
His words bloom in your chest like a bouquet of flowers. In such a vulgar moment, you shouldn’t be feeling like this, but you can’t help but acknowledge the warmth spreading throughout your body. Burning up your already aflame muscles.
You want to know more; so you query sneakily, “What does this mean?”
“What it means?” he echoes, words blurry, as if drunk. “That you’re beautiful. And… honestly, kind of cool. So annoying but so fucking funny and— hot—”
“I am? Look at this,” you say, still moving but tired; touching his face, his cheeks, his sweet nose, “look at you…”
“No.” He grits his teeth. You don’t know what comes over him, but he’s inhaling way too deeply, lightly aggressive again as he retorts, “Look at fucking you.”
And with that, he gets what he desired earlier; flips you over, climbing over you. With your shield lowered, you didn’t expect this, and now you’re right where you began. And for some reason, the sharp jaw, the furrowed eyebrows, the starved look hits you even harder than before.
The many inches he sports fell out as he took over, but as he plunges into you again with embarrassing ease, something feels different. How he looks at you. How he touches you, pushing your hair back, kissing your lips with such softness.
And how he holds you when you finally see the stars you waited for, his face in your neck, his thumb on your cheek, his palm on your jaw. Kissing your shoulder, delighted as you seek an anchor in his back, tightening around him impossibly as he fucks you through your high and your broken moans.
“Jungkook—” you repeat over and over, and in return, he mutters constant, “I know, I know.”
Again and again and again until his sounds become more uncurbed. Only syllables, rumbling, his chest vibrating against yours until he lifts himself up and retracts his cock.
His pupils shake as he jerks himself off, and you know what he’s seeking, quickly getting to your knees, helping out. You replace his hand with yours, sticking out your tongue before you engulf his dick rapidly.
In surprise, he lets out, “Oh, fff—”
Shit, how he sounds. And how wicked he feels in your mouth, tasting like you, tasting like him. Wet and slippery, his balls hard when you cup them. And then— a mere moment later, he’s shooting ropes of white down your throat.
You’ll never get used to the feeling. You didn’t with your exes, didn’t with any other guy you’ve been with. It’s sudden, your gag reflex kicking, but you don’t want to stop until he has.
Sticky and hot, you let him; look up to him. His jaw glimmers due to the sheen of sweat, and he holds your hand to keep himself upright. Nearly growls when he’s done, and then calms down bit by bit. Pulls out of you. Plumps back onto his ass.
Catches his breath; and once the two of you have relieved your burning lungs, you with your legs under your butt, you look at each other again. A sudden laugh. He lets his head drop onto his shoulder, and then shakes it before getting back on his knees, nearing your joyous form.
The last kiss of the night is endlessly more chaste. No tongue, no making out. Just a couple pecks, a hand around the nape of your neck, noses grazing. Once, twice. And then, he’s smiling again.
You tell him, “Can’t believe this actually happened.”
“Crazy… right?”
“Crazy, yeah. We…” You gulp. “We can leave it right here, though. Guess we were both riled up.”
He nods, humming, looking to the side. “We could. But we don’t have to. It felt too good to forget, you know?”
You gleam and glow; if you could, you’d curl your fingers into fists, screeching like an excited high schooler in her room, acknowledged by a crush. But you only press your lips together, corners twitching up, cheeks hot.
Then, you say, “You know what… I might just agree.”
“Good.” Another one of his stares to the side, through the door of the room. “You think we should very quickly and very harmlessly use Jieun’s shower? She probably wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t think she would. But she’d certainly know what happened.”
“Least of our concerns,” he argues, getting up stark naked. He pats your thigh and then tugs at your arm, adding, “We’ll be tidy. And then we can rest a bit and leave. Am too fired up anyway.”
You know things might change again once you’ve slipped into your clothes and walked out into the night air. Perhaps the passion was reserved for this very room, actually a result of unbridled lust and tension.
But you think it’s okay. It’s okay as you giggle in the shower, flirting and bantering.
Because even if you part from Jeon Jungkook and all this as just a saccharine memory, you’re ready to seize just a little more of this stolen moment before reality sets back in.
5:12AM, Him
Whether it’s the numbers glowing on his digital watch or the fact that the two of you didn’t rest as much as you’d anticipated after all, he doesn’t know.
The residual heat of the past hour has warmed his body and relaxed his muscles; your touches still haunt him, crawling over his skin and sitting on his knees, tempting them to buckle. And your voice, your sounds… like a ghost in his mind.
And you urging him to climb the nearby hill with you, surprisingly steep, doesn’t help. He doesn’t know why you’d choose such a place at such an hour. The occasional forest around you is dark, chirping, and the road is empty.
Perhaps you feel secure in the presence of another; in this sense, it’s even flattering that you trust him this much.
But he’ll admit that his still wobbly condition and this stop of the night are slowly bringing him to his limits. The blazer, at least, is already hanging over his arm, giving him more space to breathe.
You’re piloting the way, careful, navigating with the help of the light beaming from the occasional street lamps. Jungkook sighs in a half-complaint when the road doesn’t end, nobody around far and wide.
You’re similarly out of breath when you turn to look over your shoulder, barely for a moment before you continue to escort him further up. Then, you encourage, “Come on! We just rested. How are you already tired?”
“Woman. We’ve been walking for a pretty long time.”
“Uhmmm,” you exclaim, swaying when you pull your hair over your left shoulder, “tell me something. What’s your sleep schedule usually like?”
Well, shit.
Jungkook can already tell what you’re referring to, but the counterargument already sits ready in his brain, just in case. Yet, he hesitates. Studies his surroundings to make sure he knows the way back, stalling on purpose, and when you ask, “And?”
He answers, “Uh. Late. I slept at 7AM just last week.”
“What?!” Your voice is high-pitched, in disbelief, and whatever point you wanted to make is stuck in your throat upon the revelation he divulged. “Holy shit, Jungkook.”
“Yeah, but like,” he immediately works on justifying, making use of the comeback he’d already thought out, “I don’t walk around town, you know? I spend these nights eating or singing or—”
“Woah. You sing?”
“Yes, but. I will not sing to you now.”
He catches up with you in one long step, regarding your countenance. Even in the dim light and the pitch dark, he recognises the roll of your eyes, as if to say, “I wasn’t even going to ask.”
But instead of vocalising that very overt thought, your answer comes as smoothly as silk, “It’s fine. You sang to me plenty tonight.”
Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, disguising his surprise as in the hike reasoned exhaustion. His mind needs a moment to fix itself, but when the balance is restored again, he wisecracks, “You’re one to talk. May I remind you of what you sounded like earlier?”
“You can. But I do remember myself, thank you.”
Damn it. You’re a step ahead all the time. He can’t even outsmart you the way he wants to.
“Way to diss me. You’re hardcore,” he complains, “and here I thought you were kind and sweet and all of that.”
Jungkook nearly retracts his statement, because you throw such a perplexed and disbelieving stare back that he shrinks, reprimanded, “Can’t I be both? A woman can certainly be both, man.”
“Of course,” he agrees, hands up as if he’s being arrested, “of course. You’re both, for sure.”
He anticipates more scolding and scowls, but it seems you’re satisfied with the response he gives. You grant him a pleased, lopsided smirk that resembles his own, and then sigh into the night air, long and deep before your breath morphs into—
A mixture of a gasp and a shriek.
“Wh—” Jungkook blurts, barely registering the movement scurrying from the left side of the forest into the trees right of him. “The fuck.”
And just as fast as your gasp appeared, it diminishes, too, turning into a throaty laugh. Jungkook listens in to the echo of the rustles, still seeing the bushes move; whether because of the animal that just flit past or the breeze, he can’t say.
His eyebrows shoot up when he looks at you, coming down from the quiet chuckle, and he only realises that your elated joy stems from the way he’s standing right now.
He must’ve instinctively dashed forward, an arm in front of your body, shielding it with his. It was just a squirrel, and in all honesty, it is the two of you who are trespassing, disturbing the forest life with your presence at such a time.
Yet, his reaction must’ve been immediate enough to protect you from whatever loomed in the dark, and you seem to like it for some reason. Because as he clears his throat and lets his arm sink, all you comment is a fascinated, content, “Wow.”
“Uh… all good.”
“Yes. All good indeed.”
Your voice is tinged with a combination of gratification and tease, as if you’re one utterance away from adding a little, “My knight in shining armour.”
Instead, you bite your tongue and look around; Jungkook sees what you perceive a mere moment later. The surroundings clear, the forest less dense; on the left side, a vast opening appears, a wide path ending in a… cliff?
And behind that, the town.
If there was a soundtrack to his life, he’d probably hear violins playing right now. Reminiscent of the wind, perhaps accompanied by piano keys that sound like the softly glimmering stars above.
The picture is breathtaking. Not that he hasn’t been at such a spot before — he grew up in a big, mountainous city.
But since he didn’t expect for the hill’s peak to allow such art, he’s a little more overwhelmed than he expected to be.
From behind, he hears you say, “In any case. Let’s rest here?”
“Uh-huh.”
It’s hard to avert his eyes. All night long, he’s only felt like this once; this marks the second time.
Gratefully, he walks up to where you’re making yourself comfortable, flattening your dress and settling your bag on your lap. You pull a thin, short cardigan out of it, slipping into it. It’s certainly cooler up here.
And then, you pat the spot next to you, and he lets himself fall with a sigh; it’s been a long night, and despite the restful-not-restful hour you spent at Jieun’s, it feels as though he’s truly easing up just now.
Jungkook puffs out a breath and takes another look. Properly this time, blinking as if this could help his eyes focus better. Gorgeous. He can see the river from here, flowing through the town in curves, like a snake.
He can’t see the entire city, but most of it; it goes up and down. Skyscrapers and then cosy houses like the ones before again. Mountains far away and the lights of the amusement park somewhere in the east. They’re the brightest of them all.
“Wait,” he says; you oblige, waiting, watching as he heaves the camera out of his bag.
He only registers you from his side vision, but he thinks you’re wearing a smile; confirmed when you breathe to speak again, and his eyes drift to you, immediately decoding the pride in your sparkling pupils.
Why do you look proud? Then again, he guesses he would, too, if he showed you something that he loved and you enjoyed it, too.
Thinking about it, he kind of wants to do it someday.
He pulls at his lower lip, releasing it soon, blinking again as if to release the thought. Instead, he listens as you ask, “You’ve never been here before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hidden spot then.”
“It’s beautiful. Look there,” he points to a spot that you carefully follow, even squinting an eye shut; it makes him smile. “That’s the ferris wheel in the amusement park. Can you see? Wait.”
The camera comes to use when he points the lens at the direction he signalled towards, nimble hands working on zooming in. The picture unfocuses before the lights of the amusement park flicker again.
It’s late, he thinks; then again, the summer is coming to an end, the last nights used to keep such attractions open late. September will bring forth grey clouds again, leaving behind the prior season’s heat. Raining down on him, forcing the leather jacket out of his closet.
He likes it that way.
No offence to the summer whatsoever; but he likes the fresh gust dishevelling his soft hair. Likes it when the rain patters against the window glass so softly. He sleeps better that way, too.
Barely sitting for a moment, Jungkook already gets to his feet, nearing the edge until he’s kneeling on the ground. The distance has only faded by a couple feet, not much of a difference. But the feeling of the city nearing still persists somehow, tickling his mind just right.
He doesn’t know how long he squats there against the backdrop of the luminescent sea, but when he comes back to you, you’re still sporting that excited smile, eyebrows high. Your eyes fall to the camera, humming when he says, “Look. There.”
He magnifies the picture, every spot of it good enough to pin against the living room wall. Carefully, he hands you the camera; surprising, because he regards this pricey piece of plastic as sacred. You probably don’t know how big of a deal it is that he lets you handle it.
If you did, you’d never let him live it down.
You scoot closer, your temple now nearly touching his. You stare with an interest he hasn’t witnessed too often before. People do not care much about pictures of scenery; in the age of media, how could they anyway? When every stock picture is already memorised and used to the point of insignificance?
But you — your mouth parts as you switch around, taking in details.
“Good?” he asks.
“Beautiful,” you sincerely mutter, returning the camera to him. You hold it like a kitten; perhaps you do know what the gesture meant. “This is exactly why I wanted us to come here.”
The moment is so serene, like balm, and he nods along with your words, calmly conversing. So it takes a heartbeat to truly untangle your words in his mind and tie them with the meaning your intention conveys.
He assumed you were just showing him random spots of the town, to allow him a glimpse into your mind and to crack your true nature. All this time, he thought you wanted to lead him to bright spaces to lighten up his perception of you.
But what you’re doing instead is turn the spotlight towards him and what he loves.
“You… did it for me?” he asks.
You, casually, as if the thoughtful act doesn’t flood him with serotonin, reply, “Yeah. To capture a couple pretty pictures. You really do love it, so.”
“I do… wow, thanks.” He pauses. Looks down to the buttons on his camera, to his hands; then back to you. “You thought of it all, right? The nice places and the short rest at Jieun’s. Now this.”
“Hmm, tried as much as possible so spontaneously.”
“Thank you. Really.”
You return his gratitude with a polite nod, leaning away until you touch the backrest of the bench. Jungkook indulges in some more that nature offers, toying with the settings, zooming in just to observe sights from a closer point.
He doesn’t notice when you sigh or when you zone off; or when your thoughts shift back to the minutes and hours of the night. He doesn’t notice; and in return, you don’t know that he’s still thinking about the intention that brought him here; that you were attentive enough to truly show that some people appreciate art.
There aren’t only fleeting nights and then forgotten memories. Because this… this right here is a core memory.
Because of you.
Are you thinking the same? Are you proud that his enmity has faded, replaced by a tender smile? Satisfied that your efforts were worth it after all — a goal reached that you set for yourself earlier tonight.
Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again.
But…
He’d love to talk to you again.
However, your mind hasn’t quite drifted in this direction; in truth, he honestly can’t analyse or interpret you at all, because the question you pose next is far from what he’d been thinking about.
“Talking about pretty… uhm. Did you think Jieun was pretty?”
Jungkook blinks. One eyebrow cocks up; the camera drops back onto his lap. He flashes you a squinted look, a confused laugh erupting before he asks back, “What?”
“Ah, don’t lie. She’s very pretty.”
“Sure? She is.”
He’s nearly forgotten what she looked like. But beauty is still perceived and remembered — he guesses he found her good-looking.
“And she’s everyone’s type,” you prod, “what do you think, though? If she didn’t have a boyfriend, could you imagine liking her?”
Jungkook thinks about it. Not because he wants to, but because you seem to have found an odd interest in whatever attracts him; maybe your questions are leading up to something. So he’ll play along.
“Hmm… Maybe,” he answers.
“So she is your type.”
Or maybe, you’re trying to get something out of him that you want to hear specifically. You seem so shy about it all of a sudden; not necessarily an adjective he’d assign to you.
And coming from you of all people, he somehow does not find the topic interesting. It’s weird; he doesn’t want to talk about it; he doesn’t care about Jieun, either.
So he shrugs his shoulders indifferently, lifting his camera up again. He points it at you, eternalising your surprised expression just when you open your mouth to leave out a shocked, “Hey!”
“That’s what you get for asking such strange stuff.”
“It’s not strange! I’m just small-talking.”
“You do not small-talk.”
“It could be a deeper conversation if you just admitted it.”
He chuckles, turning his body towards you, half his leg on the bench, “Admit what?”
“The type thing!”
“Sure. I don’t just have one type, though, you know?”
The dispute brought your bodies a little closer, your face far enough for him to still identify his surroundings, but near enough for him to see your eyes twinkling. The light is dancing in them. And it’s much easier to focus on it when you silence like this.
Just for a second.
Because you breathe in again ten seconds later, lightly slapping the thigh resting on the bench. The touch is cursory, tiny, nothing to overthink about — but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to linger.
In some way, it still does.
You ask, “Okay? What are your types then?”
“Different girls.” This time, only one shoulder shoots up. His eyes match his pensive hum. “Whoever suits me. Pretty girls but also nice girls. Especially nice girls.”
“Alright, be honest,” you begin, mimicking his position until your leg lifts onto the bench, knee nearly touching his. You’re warming up now. Finally spitting the true question soon, “Do you think I’m pretty?”
Cute.
But he’s not giving in this easily.
He smirks; he feels the dimple on one side of his lopsided smile the moment you look at it. You’re distracted enough — so he uses the mental absence to attack you with yet another picture.
For a couple blinks, you’re startled — but as he reacts to his own nonsense with a content chortle, proud of his prank, you sigh. His shoulders rise with his sneering joy, head low as he inspects the picture just taken on his camera.
He zooms into your face, mouth open and eyes wide. You do look so pretty, he thinks — better even since you washed most of your make up off. Yet, he can’t contain himself when he shows you the screen, telling you, “You look alright.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes and your gaze to the view; your giggles start quietly, and then mix with his. Before—
They soon become part of a bad harmony as more voices join your very own night. Somebody is nearing. Jungkook hears the laughter already, but the road is curved and dark; so he can’t see them yet.
You might not have expected this, because you push closer to Jungkook on reflex; just at the same time as him. He didn’t know he had it in him to always stay so alert around you. Ready to throw himself at intruders.
Crazy.
But once the voices grow in volume, the two of you are soon met with a couple walking past. They’re in love, because amidst their titter, there’s another lewd sound. Or maybe, not too bad; playful kisses?
Yes.
The guy — he’s smooching his girl’s cheek, releasing with a, “Mwah” each time. Your initial surprise soon fades and turns into delight; Jungkook sees it in the way your smile returns. And in the furrowed yet amused eyebrows…
When the couple spots the two of you, they gasp; the girl’s hand immediately bolts to her chest, as if she just encountered a wild boar. But she catches herself soon, apologising, “Oh. Sorry. We’re sorry.”
You respond with an, “It’s okay!” Jungkook shakes his head politely to shrink their worries. They’ve walked away as soon as they came, but he still hears the woman’s scolding, effect lessened by the still occurring belly laugh, “I told you to calm yourself—”
As the world quietens again, Jungkook huffs, tilting his head as he deduces, “So late and yet… Not much of a hidden spot after all.”
“It feels like an ancient hill to me. I don’t often meet others here.” You breathe in the wind, then tongue your cheek. “They probably didn’t even notice where they were going. People in love never do.”
“I guess so.”
He guesses so.
It’s been a while since he fell in love.
Your head bobs once more before you lose yourself in the skyline, sucking in more of the crisp air that’ll grace you in the upcoming months. Fall is upon the town. He inbreathes the peace, too.
His hands operate on their own; one last time, he lifts it towards you, peeks through the lens again, adjusting the focus until the object clicks again. You’re not looking at him; he caught your side profile, this time not out of mock or tease.
He means it. And you seem to know.
Because when you look at him this time, you’re not mad or irritated.
Only look at him softly, a smile that truly matches the heights you took him on.
READ BELOW!!
the fic isn't over yet – as always, tumblr has a 1k block limit that makes our lives harder than necessary lmao. read the last scene and the remaining 3k words of meraki here 🥰
Just you and your dom Taehyung having a spicy night with a dildo machine and a sex swing.
Contains: Really light bdsm, dildo machine, yn is in a legspreader, doggy, missionary, soft dom Taehyung, light teasing, blowjob, sex swing, yn gets called a whore once
“Look at you, soaking wet by a machine, are you that desperate for cock, that a mere liveless mechanical piece of junk gets you this wet?” The man who had trapped your wrists to your ankles, with a metal bar, which kept your legs spread wide, chuckled as he hovered over you, watching the dildo drill in and out of you, the thick fake cock glistening with the slick juices from your pussy.
It was true, you were soaking wet. The machine’s mechanical sounds were not the only ones echoing through the room, as the dildo pushed deep into your pussy, stretching your walls around it, and pulling back, only to thrust back into you again, a squelching sound accompanying every single push and pull.
“Well?” He awaited your answer, his finger trailing over the control panel, turning it up a notch. The machine whirred and the piston moved faster, fucking you deeper, harder, faster, the vibration buzzing through your whole body.
“Oh! Oh!” Every thrust earned a moan from you, your body jerking against the machine, the restraints not letting you go far, keeping you in place, so that you were completely at the mercy of the machine.
“Answer me, or I’ll turn it off.” His fingers trailed over the control panel again, stopping on the switch that turned the whole thing off.
“Wait…” You breathed, your eyes glazed over with lust, your body quivering, whining at how the fake cock kept drilling into you with no sign of stopping. “Yes, yes, I’m desperate for cock.”
The man watched you, watching the machine drill into your wet, dripping pussy, his finger tracing down the switch, but not flipping it.
You were moaning loudly, your head thrown back as the machine kept fucking you hard, the buzzing, the squelching and the slapping noises loud and lewd. You were so close.
“Just any cock?” He asked.
You shook your head.
“No, want your cock, sir.” You managed to get out between the moans, the pleasure was building, you were going to come, and that’s when the machine stopped.
Taehyung moved by your side and unlocked the leg spreader, letting your legs drop down, before he undid your wrist cuffs, you let out some deep breaths, coming down from the high of getting fucked by the machine.
Taehyung then stripped himself of his clothing, and exposed his hardened cock, you crawled over to him, on your hands and knees, and looked up at him, taking him into your hand and pumping him, making him let out a moan. You then took him into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around his cock. He threaded his fingers through your hair, groaning as you licked up the length of his shaft, your lips wrapped tightly around him, your warm, wet mouth sending shivers through him, his cock throbbing in your mouth. And when he was satisfied, he gently tugged your head back and pulled his cock out of your warm mouth, and pulled you off the bed, carrying you bridal style, walking towards the swing.
He positioned you on the swing, with the straps, and spread your legs wide, and when he was content that you were in a position he liked, and you were secured, he lined up his cock with your entrance.
“Mm, so soaking wet, look at that, my cock slides right in.” Taehyung cooed, rubbing his thumb over your clit. “So, so, so wet, such a greedy dirty girl you are. Is that what happens when I let the machine fuck you like a little whore? All nice and wet for me, hm?” He teased as he pushed his cock into you inch by inch.
Your head rolled back, and you moaned out as he stretched your walls, the swing helping him get in deep as he held onto you. “Good girl, I know you can take in that cock, you have done it many times before. You can do this.” He murmured as he pushed into you more.
And finally, he was fully in, and the feeling of being stuffed with his cock, was incredible, you loved it.
“So good…” You whined. “Love your cock.”
“I know you do.” And with that, he started to push you back and forth, the swing assisting him in pushing you further down his cock. As you were pushed back and forth, you couldn't help but moan and whine, his cock rubbing against your walls, stretching them and hitting every sensitive spot inside. Fuck, it felt like heaven.
He kept rocking the swing, back and forth, his hips moving along with the swing, his cock sliding in and out of you, hitting just right. He groaned, as he grabbed the chains of the swing and pulled you in closer, leaning in and capturing your lips. He stopped thrusting into you for just a moment, standing still with his errection lodged into your pussy as he deepened the kiss, before pulling away.
He began to thrust into you again, hard and fast, his grip on the chains of the swing, tightening. Your breasts bouncing, his eyes glued on them, watching them bounce as he fucked you, and it made him fuck you even harder, his breathing heavy and shallow, his grunts and groans mixed with yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the swing creaking, echoed throughout the room.
“Please, sir, please…” You whined, as you were pushed back and forth, back and forth, again and again, the friction and the force he used, was bringing you closer and closer, until you came undone, your body jerking as you reached your climax, your walls fluttering around his cock.
“There you go, good girl.” Taehyung praised, swinging you back and forth in a slow pace as he let you ride out your orgasm around his cock, before you came to a halt. He pulled out, and picked you up again, kissing you as he made his way to the bed and laid you down.
“Get on all fours for me, love.” And you did.
Taehyung got behind you, and placed a hand on your hip, lining himself up with your entrance again, before pushing in, not letting you adjust to his size. He thrusted hard and fast into you, making you cry out in a mix of lust and pleasure, and the sounds you were making, made him thrust into you even faster, the wetness and the heat of your pussy, sending him closer and closer to his own release.
Your whole body jerking forward with each thrust before you arms gave out, and your upper body fell down on the bed, and your hands clutched at the sheets as you buried your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your cries, the force of his thrusts, making the whole bed rock.
“Fucking unbelievable how your pussy can still take all of this. Could fuck you all day and night, and your pretty pussy would still be nice and ready, just for me, no one else, right, love?”
“Mm, yes, yes sir…” You were starting to see stars.
“Just can’t get enough of cock, can you? Always want more, hm?”
“Yes, sir, always want more, I’m so greedy for your cock, it’s never enough.” You squeezed your eyes shut, nearing your limits.
It didn't take long for him to reach his peak, and with a final deep thrust, he came, spilling his hot seed into you, his grip on your hips tightening so you could take every drop, as he filled you.
🌷 breaking bad (because who doesn't love bad boys, huh?)
🌷 bad idea, right??? (i just tripped and fell into his bed!!)
🌷 fuckboys (please help me choose a better name!!!)
🌷 friends with benefits (please help me choose a better name!!! again!!!)
You loved your plushies so much, they were your best friends. You took your plushie collection pretty seriously, and as you should because plushies are the best things ever.
You care about them so much that you find yourself turning their body’s around, making sure that they weren’t facing the direction of your bed. You didn’t let them see the acts that were soon going to be committed on your bed.
Your roomate eunbi wasn’t home at the moment, leaving you to roam around freely.
You loved the space you had to yourself, you loved being in your own mindset, but you did find yourself becoming lonely. You never really had friends to hang out with, and you never had feelings for any other person romantically, which was something people your age are interested in.
You never felt trust in people to connect with them in such way. It stayed like that all your life, until the day you let your roommates boyfriend take your virginity.
“Looks so big in your small cunt.” He moans out loud as your pussy clenches around his long thick cock, making him hiss and pound into your tight cunt harder and faster than ever before.
Tears escape your eyes and roll down your flushed checks, the pleasure and satisfying feeling of your pussy being drilled into was too much for you to take resulting to your tears.
“Small cunt was made to get used by me, fuck. You like it yeah? You like when I fuck you baby? You’re such a good girl.” He pulled out of your messy pussy and gave your pussy a slap making you let out a cute yelp.
You were a cute little thing, all fucked out under him, looking like a doll. You were a doll, you were a fuck doll for him to corrupt. You were his, he owned you, he marked you as his very own the second you decided to let him take your purity.
“Come sit on it baby doll”
You did as you were told. Weakly nodding as you made your way to his lap where his dick was standing hard and tall, waiting to be fucking your aching hole again.
“Ride me princess, show me how much you love this cock” he growls in your ear as you sink down on his length, letting out a breathy whimper at how full you felt by just sliding the tip in. He was so big.
You bounced up and down his member, thighs shivering due to the fact that your pussy was getting split into, but you loved it. You can’t help but smile at the fact that you had him inside of you at the moment, catching yourself smiling at the thought of having him to yourself at the moment.
“Feels so good daddy” you put your arms around his neck, your huge boobs now in his face.
He gives your nipples a few licks with his tongue, he then wraps his muscular tattooed arms around your waist and fucks up into you. The tip of his dick hitting spots in you that had you closing your eyes and letting out pleasure filled screams that had him wrap his hand around your neck to shut you up, not knowing that him doing so brought you to your high.
“You’re so filthy princess.” he chuckles out, his thrust getting sloppy as he’s close to his high as well.
It wasn’t long until Jungkook filled up your pussy with his cum, not caring about the consequences unprotected sex had. He was a good guy, he really was. You were just too fucking cute not to fuck.
He didn’t pull out of you, instead keeping his cock inside of you so you were stuffed with him cum. Never in his 28 years of living has he used his cock as a cum plug but for you, oh he’d do anything. You on the other hand, you were in your own little world.
You stared at him with nothing but pure love in your eyes. You were in love with this man, you wanted to marry this man. You always liked him, but you were too good of a girl to ever hit on him, that was until you heard the sound of eunbi and Jungkook having sex, it angered you to your core.
Ever since then, you pranced around Jungkook in the smallest shorts and skirts, bending over so he can see your goodies. You would wear tees that had your boobs spilling out, knowing Jungkook was watching them like a hawk, but you don’t blame him, your boobs were too big to not notice.
“What are you thinking about baby?” you look up at him, giving him love eyes.
“About you. About.. about us.” you sound so small, so unsure of what you were feeling but you instantly thought it was love.
“Gave you dick and you’re already thinking about “us” aren’t you?” he jokes around with you, but you didn’t want jokes. You wanted him to tell you how much you meant to him and that he’ll never leave your side.
“Eunbi is the same way.” he laughs off, thinking you’d laugh back but really, tears just left your eyes.
“Stop! Don’t think about her, don’t talk about her. I’m the only girl you should think about, you only give dick to me and no one else!” your words shock not just Jungkook but also yourself.
“Sorry.. I.. I didn’t mean that.” you quickly say but it is too late to take it back.
“Wow. I- look you’re an amazing girl, and I do care and feel for you, but leaving eunbi will be.. difficult .” his words cause nothing but heartbreak.
“But, I gave myself to you. No one had ever touched me that way. Why would you do this if I don’t mean anything to you?! Why.. why would you do this.” you were too naive to understand that Jungkook was a man, who has urges, who likes to fuck, who likes to feel pleasure, and was simply using you to feel pleasure.
Sure, he does care about you and would be devastated to hear if anything bad happened to you, but it was still true.
“Hey, you were willing to do it too alright? I thought you’d know that this was all for the psychical feeling, it wasn’t supposed to be emotional. Darling, this is a secret. I’m more than happy to do this with you all the time, but it’ll have to stay a secret.”
you didn’t know if you wanted to stab yourself or go up to him and let him hold you, and tell you that everything will be okay.
You didn’t say a word to him, your eyes travel to the sight of your body. You see drops and trails of blood coming from in between your legs, it dripping down and leaving a puddle to the part of the bed you were sitting at. It hurt down there. It was worth it, but you were aching. Your body was tired, your mind was tired.
Your naked body was soon covered with a pink silky nightgown you threw on, ignoring the gaze of the man who just basically ruined your life because you know you’ll never get over this, and him.
“Gonna talk to me? Should I leave..”
“Why would I want you to leave Jungkook? I just gave you my body, and it hurts now. I need you to take care of me I don’t need you to leave me.” your voice was soft, and sad.
He didn’t say anything, instead he came to you. He easily scoops your body up, sits you down on your vanity chair. He disappears into your bathroom and comes out with clean damped cloths.
“May I?” He asked as he tugs on your nightgown, signaling if he could lift it up to reveal the flower between your legs.
You hated how he sounded like a gentleman, making your heart flutter. You nod at him, of course you nod at him. Allowing him to do whatever to you.
You gasp softly at the feeling of a damp cloth slowly and gently moving against your sensitive area. The cloth cleaning up the cum that was dripping on your pussy and inner thighs. Another cloth comes to the back of your legs and inner thighs once again, cleaning up your purity blood. He then cleaned himself up, not taking too long so he can put his focus back on you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you felt strongly about me, I really thought it was just for sex. But hey, it’s alright you don’t have to cry.” His large tattooed fingers wipe away the tears leaving your eyes.
His soft lips touching yours as he picks you up once more before putting you into your bed. Your body flutters at the feeling of the fresh bedsheets, your blanket soon covering your body as you’re pushed against Jungkook who also made himself comfortable in your bed for the second time.
His muscular tattooed arms wrap around your waist, bringing you close to him. He curses himself inside his head as he gawks at your breast for too long, feeling his cock swell up again.
you break your silence, asking him a question instead of letting him feel up on you.
“Do you feel bad.” you didn’t have to say anything else for him to understand what you were talking about.
He felt bad, about everything. He felt bad for eunbi, their relationship wasn’t going anywhere, both of them too scared to admit that they want to break up with each other due to the amount of history they have. Even though eunbi might want a break from Jungkook, she still loves him and would be absolutely furious if she finds out that her roommate slept with her boyfriend. Jungkook isn’t afraid to except the fact that he’s no longer in love with eunbi, but he still cares for her deeply.
“Of course I do. Obviously I’m going to break up with her, it’s going to be hard for both me and her but it is what it is.” you softly nod at his words, guilt filling your mind when you think about the betrayal you have caused your roomate.
“I also feel bad for ever hurting your feelings. I thought this was just for sex, but I’m an idiot who thought with his dick instead of being logical. When you told me you were a virgin I felt the need to just have you all to myself, a bit selfish.”
you continue to nod at his words, you wanted him to feel understood, even if you knew deep down there’s nothing right about what you two have done.
“I don’t blame you if you don’t feel the same way about me. Maybe I’m just attached to you because you were the first to have me, so no worries. I’m just a bit hurt in every way, I’ll get over it I think.” you didn’t want his pity, but you also wanted to stay in his arms.
“I can’t say I’m in love with you or anything like that, but I’m extremely convinced I could be, if you give me the chance that is. We don’t have to even have sex! Just.. get to know each other and maybe date and stuff.” you couldn’t believe at the giggly man who was blushing into your neck.
You felt yourself smile deep inside, like an idiot, but a flustered idiot. You felt butterflies in your tummy, you still feel guilty but.. “it is what it is right?” you thought.
“I’d like that, and yes we still do need to have sex.” you giggle out, making Jungkook giggle back.
Before he could say anything, you hear the front door of your apartment open. Oh lord, how is eunbi ever going to be okay with this.
How are you going to tell her that her boyfriend has been snatched.
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an: hi guys here’s another fic I have for you guys!! 💌this one’s a little filthy and a little wrong, but I do NOT encourage this stuff irl, this is just fantasy please don’t go around stealing girls boyfriends that’s fucked up lmao unless she’s been a bitch to you then yeah maybe but 😭 anyways!! I hope you guys enjoyed this 🎀🫶🏻 like this post and follow if you feel like it :) 🌷💋
summary: a small cuddle takes jungkook back down memory lane; a time where he could only admire your pretty-self from afar with a burning need to make you his, an idea your little boyfriend wasn’t so fond of.
word count: +4.8k
tags/warnings: cockwarming, boobie kisses, dom! jungkook, sub!reader, jungkook worships reader, he switches up real fast, size difference, smooches here and there, jungkook manhandles reader, he's possessive, degrading comments, public sex? (don't worry? no one catches them), jungkook gets into a fight, he hurts himself, manipulation, jk lies, talk about marriage ;), degrading comments, jungkook gets a tattoo of..., unprotected sex (don't be silly), reader was his first (for EVERYTHING), he's in love LOVE
notes: hope you enjoy it! i’ll try to post the small writing about yoongi soon :)
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"no, no, no, no!" jungkook yells with a small smile as his hands covered his face, acting as if he was sad. you sing out a little chant, sticking your tongue out at him. he can't help but hide his laugh at your taunts and the small dance you do behind his hands. you're so cute, jungkook thinks as he stares at you through the gap between his fingers. the playback of your pink character, cat peach, flashes through the television screen as it shows her first through the finish line seconds before tanooki mario, jungkook's character, crosses through it as well. he groans in pain, "i was so close." he can't believe how good you've gotten at mario kart 8. it's unbelievable how fast you've learned. "wanna know my secret?" you whisper softly as if there were people around you; even though both of you are alone in your shared apartment, with the only witnesses being bam, the big and strong doberman, and cinnabon, your cute, tiny bunny. the pair lay together (similar to jungkook and you) on bam's huge bed, cuddled into each other, hiding behind their floppy ears. with the same mischievous tone, jungkook whispers back, "i have to know." you smile before leaning in closer to his ear and before he knows it, he's backing away, tricked and played. jungkook covers his ear, recovering from your surprise shriek. you giggle at his reaction before going in to leave kisses on his face all around. "sorry", you giggle as he "tries" to get away from you, but it's impossible because you two sit together squished on a bean bag.
as he sees you laugh, memories with you flash through his mind. it takes him back to the start of his love to you; all the way in high school.
jungkook has never been social to begin with. he's always been a little timid and shy compared to others, but it didn't meant he couldn't experience the same things others his age were experiencing. puberty had hit him hard. jungkook had grown too fast over the heat of summer. his voice was no longer of a teenage boy, but one of a grown man. the change into manhood had girls confessing their admiration to him left and right, but he's never been too interested in starting a relationship in the first place. it's not until he landed his eyes onto dainty, little you.
jungkook remembers it was the first day of sophomore year, the summer had tanned him a bit from being a life guard at the public pool and he had grown his muscles. jungkook's eyes wandered around the new classroom, recognizing everyone's faces, but stammering at an almost unrecognizable face. the reddish lipgloss you wear shines on your plump lips, a slight blush on your cheeks and your eyelashes have darkened with mascara. it's clear that he's not the only one who's changed over the summer. your hair is styled perfectly with a nice hairstyle that makes it even cuter. but it's the glimmer in your eyes that attract him the most especially with that faint, flirtatious smile you put on as you smile at the boy who holds your hand. the realization hits jungkook, why the fuck are you holding that boy's hands? that boy probably didn't even know you existed last year so why were you giving him such a lovely look? he thinks he's been staring too long when the guy turns around to glare at him and sticks his middle finger out when you turn around to talk to your friend.
shit.
it would've been a whatever to jungkook, but now, he keeps seeing you everywhere since he's noticed you. and it's not fair that your fucking boyfriend follows you everywhere you go, always in your shadow and never not. and it's like your boyfriend feels notices the glances he throws at you and sends him nasty glares whenever he gets the chance. jungkook fucking hates his ass. hates how he's gotten obsessive over you when he barely knows you; when you don't even know him. he doesn't like the feeling really, but he can't ignore it either so he does everything he can to get the little lovebirds to separate for his sake. eventually a small little rumor breaks things apart and he can't help the little smile that breaks free when the gossip he started reaches his ears. its times like this when jungkook is thankful to the loudmouths his classmates have. and it's like the heavens heard of his prayers when in no time, he had you in his grasp for life.
you don't even find out about jungkook being hurt until your lunch time. the whispers of jungkook's name are loud and seem true enough that you dash out when you hear a short version of the story. you're over the top worried for jungkook. your heart hurts, your eyes are blurring up and sweat is building up on your forehead as you get nearer to the nurse's office. when you find him sitting with a bandages across his arms and hand, fists bloodied and his nose still slightly dripping with blood. and even as the dark bruises are hurting him, red running down his nose and his arms onto the once white bandages, he runs to you with a call of your name and a helpless expression on his face. you let out a painful sob at his delicate form, "jungkookie, this is all my fault. i'm so sorry, you shouldn't be like this." jungkook doesn't deny your claims, tearing into your neck as his arms hug your waist in a tight embrace. you promise to take care of him and you do by spending every single second next to him, making sure he's not hurting. not noticing the sly smile he had on each time you turned around because of how his dumb little girlfriend didn't realize the blood on him wasn't his, but of your ex-boyfriend.
you ignore your ex. can't stand thinking about that stupid idiot, much less seeing him so you make a clear decision to avoid him or anything that has to do with him. sharing your decision with your friends so that they don't even speak of his existence. your blood boils at the fact that he dared to throw insults and then hurt jungkook, provoking you further. unbeknownst to you, your ex-boyfriend was stuck spending his time in the hospital. so it comes to your surprise when you do see him, his arm is in a cast along with his nose covered in white with bruises surrounding it. he's practically limping with each step he takes. when you two make eye contact, your eyes fidget to your phone to tried to avoid him. ignorance that's made harder when he decides to call after you. you're firm as you continue walking but turn around soon after, when you hear the crutches hitting the floor behind each step you take. he whispers about how you should leave jungkook; that there's something wrong with him. but the annoyed look you give him tells him you won't. "leave me alone," is the only thing you utter and before you know it, he's taking your hand as your about to leave and leaning in closer. "___, he's fucking crazy." the terrified look in his eyes is more than enough to scare you, but you're distracted when your eyes spot jungkook's pained ones.
you don’t hesitate to run after jungkook, leaving your ex behind in a hopeless state. you're not able to catch up, but following the sound of his footsteps is good enough to lead you to the back of the school. "jungkook?" you shout for him, wondering where he was. "why are you fucking talking to him?" his harsh tone has you in a ruined state in no time. jungkook has never talked to you in such a way, your mind tells you it's all your fault he's like this. you go to hug him, but all he does is move back and you notice that the tears in his eyes are gone.
jungkook doesn't like what he saw at all. all your words are nothing to him right now; all he feels is anger and jealousy in him. "talking to that piece of shit after he talked bad about you, after he fucking attacked me." he gulps before continuing with a lower tone, "baby, is there absolutely nothing in that pretty little head of yours? you let him hold your hand even after everything. you let him touch what doesn't belong to him." you're crying at this point, telling jungkook that it meant nothing and you only have eyes for him. it's in that moment a light bulb goes on in his head; he's got you right where he wants you. "prove it." his demand confuses you, a small "how?" leaves your lips. you follow his gaze before realizing what he wanted. "will you forgive me?" you question, the hope evident in your mellow tone. "of course, baby." you're about to get down on your knees before he stops you, "nuh uh, pretty," his fingers playing around with the necklace he gave you, "it's something else that i want. c'mon you got this, put two and two together." a mocking tone as he talks to you in a childlike manner. it's in that moment that you realize where both of you still are: school. you don't know how the information left your head, but you shake your head at jungkook. "we're still at school kook, anyone could see us and we could get in trouble." you speak softly, hoping he agrees with you. your palms feel sweaty at his request. it's like a switch-up when he stays quiet for a while, different to how he acted minutes ago but you don't notice. you watch as his bandaged hand tugs a couple of hairs behind your ear.
jungkook wipes his nose with the same bandaged fist that's covered in blood and his bangs slightly reveal the dark purple bruise on his forehead. "please." he begs with a soft voice and with his pretty eyes, you're convinced enough. you just can't deny him, especially after he fought for you; because of you. jungkook got hurt to protect you from that idiot you once called your boyfriend, and you can't help but blame yourself for it. jungkook ruined his reputation for a stupid fight. it's all your fault, so you let him get closer to you. you let him back you up into the hidden corner outside of the school. you wrap your small hands around his neck and let him kiss you. jungkook pushes you into him, his tongue is quick to explore your own. his saliva drips onto your lips and leaves it all messy. his fingers go to unbutton your white button shirt, undoing the blue collar. "you're so pretty, ___." he whines as he licks up your neck in a hurry and sucks it with need until pinkish skin is shown and teeth marks are left. it doesn't help him that the school uniform looks so good on you. the thigh high blue socks the schools requires only feeds on to his desires. and to top it off, you have to wear a blue (mini-looking) skirt with the basically transparent button shirt. and he can't forget the little decorations that you add on, which only fuels his fantasy to have you under him. a little red bow you add on to your hair and the jewelry you add on to your wrist and neck. especially the one that's wrapped around your neck, a sparkling j in the center.
a clear memory goes through jungkook when he raises the skirt he loves on you because it's not the first time he's gotten a peak at what you hide under that skirt; he's seen it multiple times, even before you two started going out but you don't have to know that. he knows he shouldn't have looked, but you wouldn't have minded. would you? either way, he couldn't help it. jungkook's eyes wandered when he was around you. he would ignore the arm that wrapped around your waist (the douche bag you called your boyfriend) and stare hard as fantasies played in his head. he loves the way your tits are so tight in that stupid shirt. he knows he's a pervert for gawking so hard at your ass when you walk pass him, or sometimes taking a peek at what hides underneath. but, he also wished that it was him that was hugging you and kissing you. it would be his dream come true. and maybe, it was just his luck when he saw your panties as you tripped on some rubbish on the ground. thinking that no one was around, you stayed on the ground for a while; whimpering in pain, knees scraped and legs apart, giving jungkook the perfect view of your covered pussy. you didn't wear shorts underneath your skirt, it's like you wanted him to see you in such an intimate way. he swore he felt drool falling out of the corners of his mouth at the sight. he couldn't stop staring (and definitely couldn't forget) at how your body was spread apart on the ground. jungkook doesn't remember how long he stood there before coming to help you, meanwhile trying to hide the hard-on that was growing in frustration. jungkook definitely had luck on his side that day, because soon after, both of you would start to hang out more. it was enough time to indulge your mind and heart.
when you both started dating, you both sat next to each other in almost all your classes. you let his hands play with the trim of your skirt and caress your upper thigh whenever he wanted. ignoring how each time his fingers inched closer to your panties. you were so nice to him. whenever you bent over the slightest, your skirt was basically hanging off your hips, revealing your cute little panties. and now he gets to see them all over again. "shit," he groans at the ache in his cock. you were so enticing with your white panties and the little bow right on the center that he'll never get tired of. but jungkook's too desperate, so he is quick to tug down the flimsy material. quickly choosing to hide it away in his pockets. breath stuttering at your bare, wet cunt. "___, you're so fucking pretty." his finger slides against your slit, immediately getting soaked. his thumb is quick to follow towards your clit, pinching and teasing it until he hears you start to whimper. he turns to you around to place a messy kiss on your lips, tongue dipping in to touch your own as he takes off his pants desperately. his cock is bulging and has left a mess in his boxers, but he pushes it down.
a sigh leaves his lips when his cock stands straight, hitting his abdomen. you don't even get a look before he turns you again and bends you against the brick wall. you feel your heart pound in your chest. "kookie, anyone could find us," you stutter out, a small glob escaping your gaping hole. 'cute', is all he thinks before pressing his hot cock head against your cunt. "shit baby, i have to bend my knees to reach you," he snickers out loud. he can't help the grin that escapes him out of the realization; you're so small compared to him. his shadow completely covers you under him, his hands are huge compared to yours and he can carry you like you're nothing. he's about to press in when you ask if he has a condom. it makes jungkook remember his trip to the pharmacy days before, staring at the pack of condoms he was going to take as he left the store. it brings back the sick pleasure he had then, the need to fuck you raw and full of him. he stands back to his full stature as he softly whispers an apology that he didn't have a single one. he feels slightly angered at the silence you give him, but you wouldn't know because you face the other way. "s' okay kookie i guess." he taunts you in his head, annoyed that you had him standing with a hard cock like an idiot just to ask him for stupid things.
it's already a painful feeling as he pumps his cock. the slit on his tip has precum dribble out. so in return he chooses not to bend down to your height. his hands grip harder onto your hips, the pressure causing you to fuss and arch your back in response. a shriek of his name and a desperate attempt to hold onto the wall distracts you as he lifts you up to the height of his hips by wrapping one arm around your stomach. his other hand directs his drooling cock head into your pussy. as he forces his dick in, your mouth widens as a silent moan escapes you. the tip of his cock is thick and hot. you can hear him pant heavily, calling you sweet names as he watches with heavy eyes as he keeps pushing in until his hips meet your own and the tip shoves right up against your womb.
you can feel tears in your eyes at the way his fat cock is nestled deep inside your cunt. the veins that run down him are perfect and his length excites you. jungkook curses silently as he sees his cock getting drenched off the globs of your slimy slick. he's speechless on how good your pussy feels, surprised he's not busting a nut so far. all he knows is that he'd get on his knees over and over to get just a look at your cunt. it doesn't help that you're practically hanging off his cock, back bending so beautifully to reach him, while your tits are begging to spill out your half-opened shirt. it makes him smug knowing that you could fall if he simply let go of your hips. your legs are dangling mid-air as he fucks you deep and slow for the couple first thrusts before completely switching into a different pace. he feels heavy inside your cunt. all you can think about is him, each time jungkook rams his cock head directly into your sweet spot.
your tiny mouth lets out the dirtiest sultry noises he's ever heard. you sob about how his cock is too big. "kookie," you wail as his cock easily pokes and pushes against your sweet spot and cervix at the same time. you feel the heat from his angry tip that oozes out more chunks of precum, reminding you that he isn't wearing a condom. but you're left dumb with your eyes rolled back when his fingers tease your bud in a hurried pace. jungkook feels your walls squeeze tight on him and it causes a throaty groan to leave his lips. "wet my cock, my pretty baby" he mutters. you shake as jungkook continues stretching your pussy hole out. and with an airless moan, you squirt your juices on his abdomen and the base of his cock. his eyes fill with curiosity at the wetness he feels leak all down his cock and thighs. "s-so perfect for me. little hole gonna be gaping when i leave it. gonna stuff you full of me, isn't that want you want? my little dumb girlfriend wants me to fill her with my cum." jungkook can't help but moan at how your pussy swallows him whole, accepting every inch of him in your hot walls even if he's bigger than you can handle. "gonna be my cock sleeve, perfect for it. wet, little cunt s' clenching around me like a bitch in heat."
he feels the heat crawl up to his face, and it doesn't help that the sweat on his forehead makes his hair stick to his face. he smells your perfume as it begins to stick on him and he fucking loves it. loves that he can grab a full fist of your hair and the only thing you'll do is cry out his name and wet his cock over and over as he goes faster. jungkook leans down to place sloppy kisses down your back, nearing your ear to whisper dirty words that have your cunt clenching tighter around him. the moans you let loose are loud and messy, forgetting your still in school. "people should see how good my baby takes cock, can't compare with no one else, right?" a question you don't answer, or can barely make out with how loud your ass smacks against him. "pussy so filthy and tight, ready to take my cock at anytime and anywhere." you're about to release all over again when jungkook stops to slowly pull back his hips. you whine in frustration, but soon forget when he drags his cock back into your cunt, making sure you feel each vein and curve.
the breathy whines you let out almost drown out the lewd squelches of the bottom of his shaft meeting your bare pussy. jungkook can't hold back the huff, "oh, fuck yes. cute cunt leaking just for me, sucking me right back in," his jaw clenches at how wet you are. each time he sank further, his pace began to pick up with an impatient desire to fuck you harder. "my good girlfriend, s' pretty when she's desperate for cock, my cock." he says mockingly.
"i'm gonna cum," you gasp out with each word. jungkook's fingers make their way to your lips, passing them to reach your tongue. "me too," is all he says before pulling out once more to turn you around and place you right back on his cock. "you look s' fucked out, baby," he whispers with a smug smile on his face, "pussy gonna be nice and stuffed with my cum, yeah?" he's quick to connect your lips together as you squirt from the overstimulation, hiding his desperate groans. you feel his cock spill warm loads of his cum inside you. small curses coming out of his mouth as he continues to runt against you, slobs of cum still leaking into you. you moan at the globs of cum slide down your inner thighs and onto the ground. his voice is soft when he talks to you and carefully holds you onto him. "you're so good to me; my good girlfriend, yeah?" he ignores the way you trace his dark bruises and brushes your hair out. he'll never let that stupid fuck get close to you again. it's not that he's scared of him, but rather of what nonsense he's gonna say. it's best if you don't know that jungkook started the fight, that he went home and hurt himself to make the bruises etched into his skin; smacking his head against the wall until he bled and couldn't think of anything but you and slammed one of his dad's metal tools against his hands to have you next to him, cause jungkook would really do anything for you.
"jungkook, what are you thinking about?" your voice breaks him out of train of thought, "about us." he responds without hesitation, because really, when is he not. his hands rub your waist, slowly taking you onto his lap. you smile at him and it's like he's in love all over again with you. and he hopes you feel the same as he takes his left hand into yours, "i want us to be together forever, ___." you watch the way his doe eyes show you all the love he has for you. you're lucky you've always had jungkook be this affectionate. he's always willing to take you out to a restaurant on late nights, picnics almost every week during the summer, and it's always refreshing to be with him. never once has he failed you, so you can't help the heart-warming feeling in you right now, watching a smile break through his face when you agree with him. "i've loved you from the very start, and i can't wait until we start a new chapter together," he pauses for a while, holding you tighter against his chest, "and you know that i've always wanted to put a ring on your finger, and if you're ready, i'll be more than happy to give you any ring you want." your lips find their way to his as you kiss him with everything you have, "i love you jungkook."
he doesn't even have a chance to respond before you're kissing him again, because you know that he does love you. it's in his eyes; his smile; in everything he does. you're shown love through every gesture he does, like the tattoo he surprised you with last week. big, pretty letters that are deeply inked into the skin of his chest for eternity. these pretty letters that make your name and are surrounded by the soft-feathered wings of beautiful angels. his tattooed hands dig into your hips, angling you on top of his hardened cock. his hand grabbing your jaw, squishing your cheeks and lips as you move your loose shorts to the side. with a harsh tug, jungkook's sweatpants end up at his knees. there's a big pearl of precum on his head, slightly leaking down his base. at the sight, you feel your cunt pulse. jungkook's hands massage your ass as he makes his way back up to unclip your bra. jungkook pumps his cock with your hands, cooing at how small they are. he pushes himself inside your swollen cunt, and it's hard to control himself when your tiny cunt violently clamps around his thick base, taking all of him in. you're moaning desperately into his ear distracting him from your painted nails leaving deep red marks on his abdomen. his lips wrap themselves around you tits, leaving trails of saliva behind before kissing the spots.
"faster, kookie," you cry out as you feel your orgasm at the pit of your stomach. your ass repeatedly meets his pelvis with a burning pain. you're begging for release when his thumb plays with your nub and his mouth is sucking your tits. "little hole dripping all around me, ain't that right baby," a shaky gasp he lets out while his cock makes you reach your high. tears roll down your cheeks at the overstimulation when he grinds himself into your sopping cunt. "gonna make a mess in this pussy," he groans before shoving his warm load deep inside your sore cunt. a little gasp escapes your mouth at how stuffed your tummy is.
just as your hands begin to slide off his shoulders, ready to fix yourself up, jungkook pulls you in close enough that your chest is touching his. you can't even speak when he begins to softly pound into your spent pussy which has you whimpering. there's a cocky grin on his face that you want to wipe off, but it's hard when your oversensitivity makes you weak. with a faint call of his name, jungkook finally halts his sensual motions with a replaced giddy smile, "i love having you in my arms."
as the minutes past, he takes note of your sleepy head dozing off into his neck. jungkook envelopes you into a cozy cuddle as he watches the blarring tv whilst his racing mind drags on with repeated memories of the past; haunting reminders that should never be brought up. he digs his head into your hair, fingers gently kneading into your scalp making his beating heart calm its pace. everything he's done was for you. the thing is jungkook can't limit himself when he's around you. it's a suffocating feeling that indulges every ounce of his body. it fills him with a need to protect you, and it makes him go mad in the head sometimes. it causes him to commit foolish acts of violence against those who he thinks have a role in your life. though, he's gotten better with the persistent idea of becoming a better man for you; a better future husband; a better future father. jungkook's lips turn up at the ends at the sleepy noises you make. "i love you."
Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans
Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)
Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.
Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:
"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"
Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.
You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.
When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.
Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.
———
"Baby, what's wrong?"
Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.
You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?
"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice
Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.
"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little
"Then, tell me"
Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.
"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"
You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.
"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek
"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched
You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.
You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.
Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.
The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.
You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.
"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red
You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.
You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :
"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"
The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.
He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.
"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls
He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?
You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.
One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.
You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.
You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.
"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"
Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets froggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass
"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness
Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.
"Good girl" He praises
With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.
"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate
"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips
You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.
"I want to feel you in me" You tell him
Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.
You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.
He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.
"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off
You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.
"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"
His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.
"You're the only one" You reply in a whine
Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.
"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality
"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing
As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.
He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.
Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.
"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck
It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.
"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"
You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.
"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"
"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks
"Yours!" You moan
"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much
"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock
"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one
You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.
"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit
It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.
His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.
"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine
You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.
"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body
"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"
Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.
His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.
"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"
"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider
Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.
"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips
"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice
Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.
"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"
The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.
You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:
"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"
Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.
"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips
You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.
He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.
You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.
"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss
His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.
"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass
Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.
You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...
"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains
He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.
"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"
Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.
Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.
"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching
Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.
"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too
Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.
You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.
"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know
Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.
"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the frog "Look at the mess you have made"
To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.
"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"
You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.
"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth
His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.
"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek
"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face
You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.
"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"
His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.
Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.
You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.
It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.
"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt
His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.
"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."
You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.
"I got you" He reassures you
He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.
"Fuuuuck" You whine
Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.
"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass
Your toes curl and your brain gets froggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.
"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs
"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria
Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.
"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you
"Oh, fuck yes!"
"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder
"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.
"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing
Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.
"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends
"Please, cum" You beg him
The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.
"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"
Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.
"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips
You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.
Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.
"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state
"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed
You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.
"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"
"I promise"
"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything
"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"
You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.
"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live
— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.
↳ Pairing: jungkook x reader
↳ genre: smut
↳ word count: 9.6k
↳ warnings: dom!jk, sub!oc, oc is small in height, rough unprotected sex, oc cries a fuck ton bc sex is too good and cock is too big for her, daddy!jk, little!oc, choking, spanking, intense dirty talk lol are we surprised, jk’s lowkey a sadist, SIZE KINK, big dick kook, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, face fucking, name-calling, degradation, taehyung makes an appearance because why not, this is just one big porn without plot thank you
A/n: Before you start reading, the OC that I imagine in this oneshot is small in height, so if you read words like ‘little’, ‘small’, and ‘tiny’, please don’t get offended or feel hurt! It’s just the way I pictured this OC, but you can completely ignore that if you want and paint your own. Everyone’s beautiful in whatever shape or form! <3
It was a cold, rainy day and you were walking along the paved sidewalks. Holding onto your umbrella with both hands as you tried to prevent it from folding upwards from the harsh wind, the only thing that was keeping you going – was café that you’d always go to before work.
It was called Jeon’s Kitchen. It was a café that was super underrated for its location was hidden from the busy streets, yet it served the best coffee and pastries that you’ve ever tasted in your whole years of living.
You push the door of the café and the bell rings, signaling your arrival. The fresh smell of baked bread and coffee instantly hits your nose, and you almost roll your eyes back from its heavenly scent. Folding your wet umbrella close, you greet the man from the other side of the glass counter. “Good morning Mr. Jeon!”
I am really disappointed to see that no one actually cares about the terror Muslims are going through in Palestine for so many fucking years by Israel.
And no, I do not condone violence at all, especially not on children or innocent people. But what about the people of Palestine? No one cares about them, and when we try to take a stand people label us Muslims as terrorists. But I also know that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.
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