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jksb1tch · 2 years ago

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summary: in which your period cramps bring you to tears but jungkook’s gentle hand is warm.

> fluff / wc: 2k

> warnings: boob massage !!, mention of sex, mention of period blood

note: a little sumnsumn for the physical intimacy of it all <3 and my fellow period havers who get unbearable period cramps and sore boobies </3 and before u ask - yes, i’ve been listening to joon’s closer on repeat a lot. like a lot. and it makes me devastatingly emotional. + feedback is always appreciated :DD

—

your head accidentally bumping against jungkook’s shoulder as you curl up in pain is what ultimately wakes him up. out of habit, his blurry eyes gloss over at the time displayed on the digital clock. 3:14am.

he cups your face in concern, which is visibly stricken with agony. two of his longest fingers brush back the strands of hair that fell over your eyes, and they flutter upon shortly after. his lips curve into a frown when he notices your eyelashes that kissed your cheeks goodbye are wet from unshed tears. you fell asleep at 9pm earlier, and he thought you’d feel better when you wake up in the morning, but he turned out to be wrong. your period cramps seem to be particularly bad this month, adding up to the fact that it arrived two weeks early.

“want a massage, baby?”

his deep morning voice sends a shiver running through your spine, and you quickly try to cover it up with a whine. “yes, please.”

he grabs the lavender essential oil from the first drawer of the nightstand beside him, and his hand already turns slippery from barely holding the bottle. you force yourself to lie down on your back, allowing your boyfriend to apply three pumps of the oil on your stomach. he pulls your shirt back down to shield you from the airconditioner before lowering the waistband of your shorts to reach your lower abdomen. he lathers the oil across your soft skin, hoping to ease the tension of the muscles beneath it.

“your hand is so warm.” you mumble with a shaky sigh, at last finding the inexplicable relief you desperately needed. the hot compress that has gone cold too quickly beside you would hang its head in shame if only it could hear. “you’re a godsend. thank you.”

he hums in response, inching closer to give your temple a kiss. his tender rubbing gradually turns into adept kneading, mindful of exerting just the right amount of pressure so he won’t cause you any more pain. next thing you know, he’s lying on his side and using your arm as a pillow as he peppers kisses along the expanse of your jaw and neck.

with your eyelids fluttering open and shut from drowsiness, you lazily grasp jungkook’s wrist to guide his hand higher on your torso. “it’s sore here, too.”

he grazes the swell of your right breast with a feather-light touch. “where?”

“there . . . there. hurts.” you whimper weakly when he applies a little pressure on the side near your armpit, unconsciously digging your nails on his forearm. you despise how your eyes are watering again, and you’re not even sure if it’s because of the pain or simply put, jungkook’s existence. “and under it.”

with courteous gentleness, his four fingers dance across your skin in repetitive movements. he creates circular motions from under your breast to the side, and then he makes his way back to where he started to do it all over again.

“does this feel okay?”

the scent of lavender and your boyfriend’s affectionate ministrations carry you to slumber’s glittering gates, but his voice nudges you away before you can take a step inside the land.

“huh?” you whisper tiredly.

he snickers with his eyes closed. “i asked if this feels okay. are you getting sleepy again?”

his heavenly therapeutic massage doesn’t cease. his thumb brushes against your nipple every now and then, which is why it’s unsurprising to feel it perk up and harden under his touch. he continues with following the loop he made, determined to shoo away the soreness that’s causing his lover to tear up and sniffle in pain.

“so nice. i’m falling asleep soon.” your fingers thread through his dark hair, loosely hugging him to your chest as you drown yourself in the scent of his shampoo.

“does the other one hurt too?”

his innocent question makes you chuckle. this causes your body to vibrate and to trigger the sharp pain shooting up on your sides. holy fucking shit, that hurts. hormones are a bitch.

“yes, but not as much.”

jungkook fights off sleep as he alternates between massaging your lower abdomen and chest. your skin gradually dries up as it absorbs the essential oil, but he doesn’t take this as a signal to stop at all. he keeps going anyway. as sleepiness clouds his mind, however, he impulsively cups your breast in his hand and allows himself a firm squeeze. the two of you knew it was inevitable, really, because it’s obviously a reflex for him at this point. and yet, your breath still gets heavier, as if this is the first time you’ve been touched by him.

“you’re so squishy. want to stay like this forever.” he mumbles almost incoherently. he gives the soft flesh another squeeze, and another, and another, before pressing his fingers on the side to carry on with his massage.

“you know, i’m starting to think you really mean that.” you recount all the other times he hazily uttered the same words while holding your boobs and/or nuzzling his face against them during non-sexual encounters simply because he finds them, in his own words, so comforting. one of these days you ought to ask: does he have the same affinity for them as you do for his doe eyes?

well, not that you mind. clearly, you get more privileges from it than you originally thought.

“mhmm, guilty as charged.” he replies with a toothy grin.

he pulls you closer by the curve of your waist as if your bodies could possibly get any closer than this, but he stubbornly insists and he painfully yearns. lost in a haze— he wants to get under your skin, let his pounding heart cross the distance and meet yours like two penpals throwing caution to the wind. however, your hearts are prisoners to your vessels.

isn’t this the reason we have sex? make love? to be as close as humanly possible? more than what they call an instinct, but honestly speaking, is it not an enigmatic ache? a greedy appetite for love?

maybe that’s also why jungkook refuses to stop stealing kisses from your lips despite uncontrollable giggles racking the both of you. he holds himself up on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress. teeth accidentally knocking once, lips landing on the corners of your mouth, the air becomes warmer but he refuses to let go of the moment when he finally aims right. maybe that’s why he still chases after you despite getting reluctantly pushed away, feeling like he just won the nine-digit prize at the lottery when he gets rewarded with one final peck. it’s as if to say i don’t want to be a stranger. i don’t want to forget. let me mold the memory of the shape of your lips onto mine.

“your hair kept tickling my ear.” you tilt your head to the side to escape, gasping for air.

his playful giggles continue to fill the dark hours’ ringing silence, relentlessly moving closer to snuggle with you again. the scent of lavender has hung to the fabric of your shirt, and it soothes him to sleep like a lullaby.

“you made all the blood gush out. i hate you. need to go change before i stain the sheets.”

the loss of your warmth causes him to muffle a groan against your pillow, his hand holding on to yours until the hook of his pinky finger slips away from your thumb. he hears the walk-in closet open and close, and then the same with the bathroom door. the sound of water running from the shower serves as white noise as he loses the battle against the angel of slumber.

feeling refreshed after a quick warm shower, you go back to bed with your pain finally cranked down to a bearable level. however, the sight of your sleeping boyfriend snoring with his mouth slightly open makes you click your tongue with a laugh. the stubborn man somehow always ends up using your pillow, or you as a pillow. with a silent grunt, you carefully carry and drop his upper body to his side of the bed, followed by his long legs. you adjust his head on his special pillow to keep it elevated just enough, so he won’t complain about a sore neck in the morning.

the snoring stops briefly, and then comes back softer this time around. well, that’s good enough.

—

jungkook jolts awake at the sound of his 5am alarm, rushing to turn off the phone tucked under the side of his pillow so it won’t disturb you. as he stretches out his limbs, he rubs away the remaining sleep in his eyes to look at your sleeping figure properly. you’re facing him with your hand curled up around his tattooed forearm. your phone is propped up against your pillow, still faintly playing the ghibli film ‘princess mononoke’. he takes it with him when he soundlessly climbs off the bed. he leaves it turned off on top of the nightstand beside you before stumbling inside the bathroom.

he sleepily stands infront of the mirror as he brushes his teeth, tucking his hair behind his ear to observe the lines that formed on his face, the most probable cause being that he slept on his side again. with his exhausted eyes closed, he starts massaging his cheek with the heel of his palm to increase the circulation of blood and oxygen, which will make the lines fade away quicker. he still smells the traces of lavender from not too long ago. he splashes his face with water, and they get washed away and replaced by the smell of his face cleanser.

it’s already past 6am when he deems himself prepared to leave for work. he turns off the stove and refills your hot compress with the water he heated up, softly singing the words to ‘dynamite’ as he does so. he runs through the choreography inside his head, making small lazy movements, just to keep his body familiar with dance moves.

with his backpack swung over his shoulder, he goes back inside the bedroom to bid you goodbye. you tossed and turned in the empty queen-sized bed while he was gone, and you’re already lying on your back with your shirt riding up above your belly button.

“aigoo, aigoo! you’re a messy sleeper, i’m a heavy sleeper. we really belong together.” he converses with himself as he pulls your shirt down and places the hot compress over your lower abdomen.

you attempt to turn to your side again but he holds you back, putting your hand on top of the hot compress to keep it pressed against you.

“hey- hey, baby. i’m off to work now.”

you only hum in response, raising your arms to reach for him. he instantly bends down into your embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead for a kiss that lasts a little longer than usual. “mmmm-mwah!”

“can’t- open my eyes. i bought new face masks yesterday. are you wearing it?” you mumble. “the other brand’s strings are too fragile. i fucking broke five of them. don’t wear those anymore.”

he chuckles at the way your voice gets louder while saying the curse word then drops back down to quiet mumbling right after. it’s sickening how being in love makes him fawn over the smallest details about you.

“yup. found them in the living room.” his thumb brushes against your cheek lovingly. “take it easy working today, okay? i love you.”

you nod your head repeatedly. he doesn’t understand the slurred words that manage to escape your mouth after that, and perhaps, he doesn’t need to. he knows that you love him too.

—

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