#BTS One Shots | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ouchmyheart22 · 8 months ago

Text

16.Tell Your Friends - BTS Mafia Au

One - Two - Three - Four - Five- Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten - Eleven - Twelve -Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen

-----------

Most agree there are bad people in the world, but no one thinks they’re one of them

The bottles of red wine in Yerin’s pantry were ordered by date, the Italian way she mentioned, winking as you left to retrieve the next bottle. You knew these bottles were less Italian than microwave pizza, as the 3 for 2 sticker was still proudly displayed on the one you’d selected.

You’d never been a fan of wine, whatever notes of fruit and oak seemed to lose itself in the tar that coated your tongue, sticking to your taste buds, like a bad stain; the pungent liquid left you reeling, cringing, your face contorting into a display of disgust.

However, the past few months of prancing around Seoul's most extravagant clubs, you'd become accustomed to the tannic acidity of red, the dry citrus of white and the sweet buzz of rosé. You had long since allowed your palette to adjust to the newfound comfort you found in the bitter grape. All that mattered was the glass in front of you was full, and your head would soon be empty.

You weren’t sure which inkling of paranoia had caused you to retreat into the pantry, but you’d decided it was much better to be left with your thoughts alone, rather than forcing a smile, while you idly zoned out on pieces of conversation.

Your school friends were beautiful and lively, and you had once fit so well in their little family. Even last Christmas you had not felt out of place, despite you all having progressed to different career paths. Scattered petals from the same flower, each landing on a different piece of Seoul.

It was the first time you’d been alone that month, and Seokjin promised you that. You would not notice, Yeonjun, Hoseok’s ‘replacement’, during your Christmas celebrations. You were grateful for his generosity, time to feel normal, without someone following you. Though you couldn’t deny you felt safer knowing the ‘replacement’ was lingering outside somewhere, as the paranoia you felt had only worsened since Hoseok’s beating.

It was only in the months of the aftermath of Seungkan’s death had you truly begun to dissociate from your friends, it only felt natural, though unintended and unprovoked, you’d seen less and less of them since the warm Autumn had clashed with the bitter Winter frost.

You’d blamed this on Yoongi but you’d become acutely aware that this had been your doing. Even though much of your time was spent prancing around Jin’s clubs, you had declined most offers to see your friends. The thought of seeing them almost hurt, as you knew you weren’t the same girl they had known since adolescence.

The few times you had met them, for coffee or a brief lunch, you had been acutely aware of Hoseok seated a few tables behind you. Even though your fondness for him had grown, you could never shake the uneasy feeling it gave you. Watching your friends laugh, joke with you, as you watched the door open, at every restaurant intruder. It was a risk, everything was it seemed, which was why you had only given in to their pestering a few times.

You knew you couldn’t reject this. The Christmas dinner. Even for your own sake, you needed to try. Try to salvage whatever normality life seemed to spare you as of late. The karmic generosity seemed as bittersweet as the the knock-off Merlot you grasped in your hands.

The four had all greeted you at the table with stunning smiles, Hyunjin eagerly ushering you back to your seat so he could pour the wine.

Heejin beamed, taking the first class handing it you, her voice like honey, soft yet alluring.

"To our (Y/N)" she'd brushed her hand over your wrist, a sincere smile on her face, as always.

Hyunjin raised his glass with a grin, Yerin and Eunwoo following. You’d felt uncomfortable, detached as your glass rose to tip the rest, emitting a satisfying clink. They’d looked at you like you were something to behold, a martyr in their eyes, of determination and willpower.

“It’s been a hard year for you (Y/N)” Eunwoo nodded, after the sip of wine “We’re all grateful you’re here to celebrate with us”

“Thank you” you tried to stop the pink blush from spreading over your cheeks, unsure how you felt about the sentiment.

The chatter began soon after as you sipped the acid drink slowly, savouring the burn for the first sip. It was a welcomed taste, one that you found solace in, distracting you from the stinging feeling in your hands.

"When are you bringing your girlfriend over anyway Heejin?" Hyunjin had asked, sitting back in his chair

"Yes, I wanna see the girl who’s been taking up all your time” Yerin winked, nudging Heejin's shoulder.

You'd forced a laugh at this, the knot in your stomach tightening.

Heejin shrugged, her eyes mischievous as she glanced around the table nonchalantly “You’ll meet her when we’re ready”

Yerin scoffed, more in jest than in annoyance and continued poking her friend.

“Cmon you’ve got to give us something!” Hyunjin moaned. Heejin merely grinning at her brothers exasperation.

They’d continued like that for awhile, jesting and joking, finding joy in the simplest of conversation. You couldn’t help but zone out.

But as the night drew on, party games became personal, laughter rang in your ears, a clear echo whirring through your head, you’d felt unwell, detached and uncomfortable, in a room full of your closest friends.

You’d noticed Heejin step out for a second, calling her girlfriend.

Hyunjin and Yerin had made themselves comfortable in the living room, a picture of domestic bliss, the sounds of Yerin cackling echoed into the kitchen as you and Eunwoo washed the array of dishes.

“Any plans for New Years?” He’d piped up, just as the silence had become comfortable.

“None yet. Heejin and I normally go somewhere in Gangnam but this year I think she’s too loved up” you’d laughed, sincerely,

Eunwoo nodded, tight lipped as he dried a roasting dish thoughtfully.

“Solji going out?” He’d asked, his hip bumping yours as he knelt down to place the roasting dish back into the oven, to gather dust until Easter.

“Nah, she’s in Ilsan with her parents till the New Year” you’d concluded, passing Eunwoo a large pot “What about you?”

Eunwoo smiled, bashfully, the way he always seemed to smile at you, his dimples deepening. He’d returned the pot to its place in the cupboard before turning to you with a nervous expression.

“I was wondering if you wanted to do something for New Years”

You nodded, an easy smile resting on your lips.

“Yeah, I mean, Yerin and Hyunjin will probably go to-“

He cut you off.

“I meant just the two of us” he’d smiled again, his hand fiddling with the towel, winding it up repeatedly.

You’d blinked.

“Like just us two” he'd nodded, his head tilting to the side like a puppy. He'd repeated the phrase, as if to ensure no misunderstanding in his gesture.

"Eunwoo" his name fell from your mouth, the taste of dark red wine still coating your tongue, decimating your taste-buds and apparently your vocal chords too, as you struggled for the right words.

Eunwoo was tall and handsome and lovely. A year ago, you would have accepted his offer with glee, excitement, and reassurance. As a year ago you weren't involved in a criminal gang. Taking money from a criminal gang. Deeply, heavily tied to a criminal gang.

You'd smiled at Eunwoo, attempting to be genuine. You’d been cut off by a shrill screech from the living room, Yerin running into the kitchen, her tiny frame shaking with excitement. The words that left her mouth were barely enunciated, as she shrieked.

“BTS just came on stage!”

------

The taxi home with Heejin had been quiet, your eyes trailing up to stare at Yeonjun in the drivers seat, who had genuinely posed for a good taxi driver. His hair was pulled back under a black baseball cap, shades of gold peaking out from under the hat. You'd wondered where he was meant to be today, before he was landed with you.

Heejin had held your hand the journey home, loose but reassuring, as she used her other hand to flick through the Christmas dinner posts, festive selfies and dogs with Rudolph headbands.

“(Y/N)” her voice was tired, but in a satisfied way, your name was gentle.

“Hmm?” You’d asked, your eyebrows raised, eyes pulling away from your taxi driver.

“Eunwoo seemed very excited to see you” she’d smiled, shaking her head slightly as she waited for your answer.

“Eunwoo was excited to see everyone” you’d shrugged, smiling back, though you wished you’d took that cutlery Hyunjin was attempting to give away as it would’ve been useful to dig yourself a hole to hide in.

“Yeah but you know what I mean” she’d tried again, her eyes were soft, motherly and careful. Heejin always seemed careful with you, even prior to the shooting she had always been tactful, tasteful, wise beyond her years.

“He’s very sweet” you’d concluded, hoping to end the conversation. You fiddling with the tubberware box Yerin had forced upon you, full of Christmas cookies, some reindeer, some elves, some broken spruce trees she assured you were a purposeful metaphor for deforestation.

“He’s sweet on you” Heejin laughed, rubbing your forearm. The touch was familiar and comforting, something you hadn't felt in a long time.

“Heejin, stop, he’s always been our friend” your eyes fell to your tights, before winding back up to meet Heejin’s. You'd silently begged for her to stop, as if she was to know that your taxi driver would possibly relay this as part of your intel briefing with Yoongi.

“You know he’d take care of you (Y/N). Why not give it a shot?” She’d tapped your palm, her eyes searching yours for emotion, hoping for happiness, excitement, giddiness maybe.

You cringed slightly, the wine causing your acting skills to waiver as you became anxious for her reaction.

“Are you seeing someone else?” She’d asked, her eyes narrowing. “Oh my god is it that guy that I ran into you grocery shopping with?”

You’d cringed, reliving the moments Heejin had stumbled upon you and Hoseok in the ramen aisle, Hoseok carrying a basket for you. She’d been suspicious, but you had easily slithered out of it. Explaining Hoseok was your new neighbour, your new Japanese neighbour, who did not speak any Korean. At all. And out of the kindness of your heart, you were helping him out.

“Heejin no, I told you already that he’s my neighbour” you'd exhaled, an almost laugh, feigning embarrassment.

“Doesn’t mean he’s off limits” she'd pursed her lips as her eyes squinted, her nose scrunched up. It was the same face she used to make when she was teasing you in Biology class, about one of your classmates, or teachers. About the new girl she liked.

“Well it’s not that” you'd concluded, tapping her hand for dramatic effect.

“So why no Eunwoo then?” her pursed lips had turned into a pout now, begging for an answer

“I just- uh. I don’t know, I’m not-" she could tell you were uncomfortable by now, you knew you were red-cheeked and stuttering.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to push it” she squeezed your hand, a smile appearing on her perfect red lips, festive and fun "I'm just kidding around, you don't need to explain. I just wanna see you happy"

You'd smiled back at Heejin, which was always an easy task when it came to her. Whether she had train-track braces or not, it was infectious. You'd thought back to the early days of school, with french braids and fresh packed lunches, when Heejin had borrowed your crayons in class. Her same smile, though a little straighter now, beamed back at you now from across the backseat.

The words that left your lips felt like an obligation, for all the years Heejin had made you laugh, stayed up late studying or waiting in line for tickets to Girls Generation. You'd never wanted a statement to be more true.

"I am happy"

________________________________________________

You had watched the snow fall through the open curtains, illuminated outside in the streetlights, casting shadows over the patterned rug below the sliding patio door that led out to your small balcony.

The wine class in your loose grasp was half empty, the bottle of red wine Yerin had sent you home with was all drained. The lights had remained off, the living room instead lit up by the television, displaying a Christmas special of a corny drama. Song Hyekyo whipped around to face Zo Insung, his arm gripping her pristine white fur coat, her mouth pursing and pretty, begging to be kissed. Your eyes has glazed over as you watched, you couldn't remember the reason the couple on TV were fighting.

Your bare feet dangled off the edge of the couch, your Christmas finery wrinkling in the position. You hadn't mustered the energy to change yet, and it was quite possible you would end up sleeping in Solgi’s borrowed dress.

Absentminded, you scrolled through your phone, posts that seemed to blur into one after an hour or two. The thought had popped into your head, lingering for a moment, then discarded as drunk ramblings.

You wouldn't call him.

But come the 90th minute of the 2 hour drama special, you had dialled, your finger hitting the call button with an unknown heaviness.

You'd watched Park Shinye slam her fists on the table, interrupting the perfect Christmas dinner on television. You'd listened to the phone ring your right ear. For the first time, you were not nervous to speak to him.

'Yoongi' you'd pressed your lips into a tight line when he answered.

An entire second passed, it had slowed to what felt like thirty in your inebriated state.

'That's who you called. Yes" he replied, little emotion in his voice. His voice was echoed, bouncing off the walls and returning to the microphone a little softer a second time. He didn’t sound tired, for once.

You'd let out an unsure breathe, placing the wine glass on the floor beside you.

'Didn't think you'd answer' you had stated, staring at the patterned rug again. It had stopped snowing.

'Is this an emergency?' was his next question, he seemed inpatient. Which perhaps he was. You had called him on a day off probably, though you weren’t sure if that was something Yoongi participated in. Even for Christmas.

You'd laughed, without humour. Throwing your head back, your falling curls hitting the red blanket thrown over the couch,

'Are you drunk?' he had asked, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. You could hear the change of tone, slight but apparent to you. As you’d long since spent hours listening back the voicemails he’d sent you, overanalysing and overthinking, you’d become accustomed to his tones.

'It's Christmas' you'd replied, shrugging your shoulders, as if he could read that expression over the phone.

'It's actually the 26th now' he shuffled in the background, obviously doing something else.

Maybe he was leaving a Christmas party. Maybe he was visiting family. Maybe he was slipping into bed beside someone, the bed you had slept in a few night ago. The reality of what you had done was beginning to purge the alcohol from your system and instil sobriety.

You'd glanced up at the clock, reading 2:31am, he was right.

'Whatever' you'd muttered, picking up the wine glass again, taking much more than a sip.

'Whatever? You called me to say whatever?" he'd asked, though it seemed rhetorical.

"No' you exclaimed, louder than expected, looking around the empty apartment, as if expecting to see a startled Solgi. You'd settled back into the couch after the outburst, crossing your legs.

'What did you call to say so?" his voice was unreadable now, you’d wished you could see his face, though undoubtedly it would be irritated and tense.

'I don't know' you whined, soft and breathy. You sounded like a spoilt child, which you knew he wouldn't like.

You heard him sigh through the other line, although it didn't sound annoyed. Before he could complain you spoke.

'I hate this place' there was little malice in your voice as you spoke, though the statement was true. The apartment was wholly uninviting tonight, it seemed empty and sparse, despite the Christmas decorations. Yeonjun had scoped the apartment quickly, although thoroughly as he checked the sensors on the windows and security footage. It made you feel safe, you had told Solgi, who was willing to live under the constant surveillance if it made you feel better. It didn't.

'Well I'd hate to live in Gwanak too' he'd answered, clicking his tongue for emphasis.

'Fuck you' you'd scoffed, not thinking as the curse left your mouth.

'Gangnam is shit too, if that makes you feel any better' he replied, as sharp as ever.

'It doesn't' you pouted, before shaking the expression from your face as you realised you looked like a spoilt K-drama princess.

'Well I don't know what to tell you sweetheart' he'd concluded. He was patient, the trait seemed to slip out in certain moments, which you were never expecting from him,

It was the wine, that's what you had convinced yourself the culprit was. The smooth red wine that seemed to taste so much better than wine had ever tasted before, an earthy flavour coating your tongue, caused your lapse in judgement, your senseless actions.

'Tell me about your day' You'd sighed into the phone.

He had laughed, a hearty laugh that made you roll your eyes. You had expected him to hang up, curse you out possibly, for wasting his time. Oh Min Yoongi's precious time. Scoffing he answered with amusement.

'What do you want to know huh? That Santa Clause visited?' He’d sounded amused, sincerely for once.

'Did you get coal?' you'd queried.

'Oh tons yeah, I'm a piece of shit what did you expect?' He’d answered matter-of-factly, you could hear the grin in his voice, amused at himself.

You'd laughed, it felt the first real conversation you’d had with him, easy to forget who you were talking to.

'What did you get for Christmas so ?' You hadn’t expected the back and forth, you hadn’t even expected him to answer.

'Nothing' you replied. This was a lie, but you hadn't felt the need to divulge the sappy gifts your friends had gotten you. Plushies and spa vouchers, with a beautiful necklace from Eunwoo. Looking back, it had been obvious, how careful he had been around you, hugging you with such nervousness, as if you’d break if he pressed too hard. Assuming it was what everyone thought, you were always still recovering, always still healing from the bullet that tore through your shoulder and piece of mind.

In reality, Eunwoo had been careful because he was going to ask you on a date. You’d realised you’d never given him an answer,

'Nothing ?' Yoongi had pulled you from your train of thought. His voice was low, tired, he always seemed tired. You wondered if he was an insomniac. You wondered if that's just what this life did to you.

'Nothing yes' you’d confirmed, avoiding your gaze from hitting the red jewellery bag Eunwoo had presented you with.

'Wow that's heartbreaking you should be on the news' His tone wasn't bored, but you couldn't call it playful.

'I might be soon' you countered, raising your eyebrows.

'Oh yeah for what?' he scoffed.

The K-drama entered an ad break, an obnoxious Soju ad blaring from the TV. It all seemed too intimate, like you were up late chatting with a friend, bantering with a guy from some dating app, a call with a new lover.

'When I'm arrested for corroborating with a criminal organisation' you almost whispered.

'Ah you'll get a plea deal don't sweat it sweetheart' he reassured, clicking his tongue. You could hear movement from his line, shuffling, but no other noise.

Why had you called him?

'What would you get?' you asked, after a beat of silence. Curious, the alcohol was doing little to satiate you.

Why were you still speaking with him?

'Is this being recorded?' you could hear the smile in his voice, a teasing breathy tone that caused your own lips to curl up.

You'd scoffed, a laugh you seemed to have inherited from him.

'Life. A few times over. Depends on how much you dish up on me' He didn't seem bothered by this fact, reserved to the knowledge that if he was ever arrested, he may never be a free man again. But his ease may have been generated by the lack of evidence against him, plausible deniability, loyal employees, the list went on.

'Me?' you asked with a surprised voice.

'Calm down, you'll wake the neighbours' he scolded, he was lighting a cigarette, you'd heard the click of the lighter.

You’d almost apologised for your outburst before realising he did not want or expect the gesture. You didn’t have a chance to speak before he changed the topic of conversation.

'I heard you have New Years Plans'

You knew Yeonjun had been listening, but it was rare topics of your conversation with friends would ever be brought up.

'Yeah' you cleared your throat 'I might'

You suddenly felt embarrassed, the thought of Yoongi knowing about Eunwoo causing your cheeks to redden. An involuntary reaction, you scolded yourself for, suddenly gaining sobriety.

'You don't' his tone was final, more serious than the rest of the conversation 'I was going to call tomorrow and tell you'

The apartment seemed colder as he changed the tone of the conversation, the bubbling feeling in your stomach subsiding.

'I need you back on the job that night'

I need you.

You'd realised why you had called him.

'We got a good tip, about the new year. I need you seen'

I need you.

You realised why you were listening to sounds on the other end of the phone so intently.

'I need you good as new. Alright kid?'

I need you.

You were lonely.

And you hoped he was too

20 notes · View notes

zeroeightzeroone · 2 years ago

Text

how did you know? - optional male lead

genre: angst

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~1.6k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"how did you know he fell out of love?”

it started with his voice.

he had always been soft-spoken; honey voice laced with affection and a hint of excitement whenever he'd speak to me. even on days when he was feeling down, under the weather, there was always the fondness you could hear in his voice, loud and clear.

i stopped hearing it one day, i tried to convince myself that maybe i had just missed it, that i wasn't paying enough attention.

of course, he was still soft-spoken but in a reserved manner. he spoke to me less and less as time went on. when we did speak, it was hard to miss the way his words came out sharper, and more direct. it was also hard to shake off that feeling in my gut when words of adoration were spoken in such a factual manner; facts he no longer believed himself. whispers and random outbursts of sweet-nothings were just that; nothing, in sincere.

if he didn't believe his own words, why did i? i could feel the change in his voice deep down but i chose to conclude that he might have just had a bad day, a bad week.

then it was his touch.

he was never one for public displays of affection, his methods of showing affection in public came with subtle actions; intertwining his fingers with mine, he had a habit of fiddling around with my fingers during conversations or whenever he had the opportunity. he preferred to show his love and affection behind closed doors, reserving those displays for you and your eyes only.

i remember his touch always lasted a couple seconds too long, taking every second or nano-second so he could feel my skin under his for those last few moments. his touch that lingered a second too long became one that lasted a couple seconds too short. lacing our fingers together in public became linking arms. the touch he used to shower me with behind closed doors, physical acts of love and longing only continued to dwindle.

i found myself longing for that feeling of physical closeness. longing for the warmth of his skin against my own that started to fall cold.

then it was his eyes.

you could fit the universe inside those eyes of his. his iris' held the most beautiful array of colours. his eyes showed you what his words couldn't.

when his eyes locked with my own, i was entranced by their beauty, the depth within them. i found myself falling deeper into the pools of infatuation, yearning and lust, getting lost inside this glimpse into his soul; a glimpse into the heart of the man i loved.

it was through his eyes, that he made it apparent that his attention was focused on me during conversations. it was through his gaze that he showed me he was present, wholeheartedly listening and attentive to the words i was saying.

eyes truly are the window into the soul, but i refused to believe what i saw in front of my own.

he tried to play off his increasing emotional detachment when he would gaze in my direction but his eyes stopped meeting mine. they looked everywhere instead of into my own. maybe he avoided my gaze to hide how his heart changed. to delay the inevitable.

i remember the moment when our eyes met; they were heavy and tired, lacking that spark of devotion. his eyes that gazed in my direction were hollow and distant. even though he was there with me physically, he was emotionally absent.

those eyes that once drew me in, captivated me with those pools of love and devotion, the feelings of warmth and familiarity were now cold, unrecognizable.

then it was his smile.

his smile was the first thing that drew me in. his smile reached his eyes, sparkling whenever he flashed his toothy grin. i remember how his closed-lip smile turned into a wide, toothy grin that crinkled his eyes when i told him i loved him too. that same bright smile always brought me a sense of comfort and ease. as long as he was here with me, smiling down at me, everything would be okay.

that closed-lipped smile returned; it didn't exude the feeling of nervousness or apprehension that it held when he confessed his love that first time. it couldn't even be classified as a smile as he just pursed his lips together. it was a disingenuous attempt at the expression that failed to reach his eyes.

his fabricated attempts at a genuine smile only mirrored his eyes.

his hollow, emotionless and unrecognizable eyes. that bright, toothy smile felt like a long-lost memory, i started to feel like maybe i imagined it, that it was a mere figment of my imagination.

eventually, i stopped hearing those three words and eight letters.

the words he spoke into existence first.

it started off with the words sprinkled in here and there; saying it when he held me in his arms and smiled down at me, those three words just slipping past his lips. as time passed, it became three words that came received in an occasional text message or words uttered in passing. soon after, the tone that accompanied those words made it seem like a chore, words that didn't leave his lips unless i said it first or pried it out of him.

words that he said only to satisfy me, to get me to drop the topic instead of words he truly meant.

those three words and eight letters that once had my heart beating out of my chest became the reason my heart ached.

even with all of those hints, i ignored them.

i ignored that way my stomach turned whenever he flashed me a half-hearted smile that failed to reach his eyes.

i ignored the way my chest grew tight when his tone changed. when his tone slowly grew cold and biting, his words becoming more candid and blunt.

i ignored the way his kisses became brief, light pecks that lasted no more than a couple of seconds.

i ignored the way the kisses were absent of your small, sincere whispers of affection afterwards.

i ignored the way my heart dropped when i found myself chasing your lips once you pulled away.

i ignored the way my body felt nauseous and squeamish with every change in your actions and your attitude towards me.

i ignored all of my gut feelings, the suspicions and the waves of heartache that plagued my mind, body and soul.

i held onto that dimming light that appeared in your eyes once in a while, the smidgens of the love you once held for me.

i held onto the bliss that came with the sight of your genuine smiles, even though they weren't directed at me.

i held onto your fleeting touches, hoping the more i thought of them the longer the effect would last.

i clung to what we once had, to the version of you that loved me as much as i loved you.

i clung to the memories and hoped they would come back, that we would be able to recreate them. to create more memories together.

i clung to the hope that maybe you would come back. that the man i fell in love with, who expressed his desire to build a future together would return.

i held onto what we once had because my heart wasn't ready, i couldn't grasp the inevitable reality. instead, i chose to grasp onto a fantasy of what we once were, what we once wished to have together; an image of love i wanted for us.

i persevered to hold onto an unattainable fantasy, an idea of you that no longer existed.

i knew the end was just around the corner. the inevitable end i could only hold off for so long. no matter how hard i held on, i could feel you slipping through my fingers.

regardless of how much it hurt to hold on to a person who no longer reciprocated what we once had for each other, it hurt more to embrace the impending reality of a future, a life devoid of you.

i wasn't ready to let go of you just yet.

my heart wasn't ready to take the agony, the suffering that came with losing you. i wasn't ready to experience the worst heartbreak of my life, losing someone i associated with the word forever. i didn't want to grieve over what once was, reminiscing on past memories with the one that got away.

the inevitable development of our relationship was one i couldn't even fathom; lovers to strangers.

strangers that know too much about each other. strangers that hold too much history together to even be classified as such.

the impending feeling of a bitter end was all too familiar, it was just within my grasp but i couldn't let him go just yet.

so i pushed away my stoic observations, the ache in my heart, the feelings in my gut and chose to play the fool. the angst of denial was a mere papercut in comparison to the feeling of my world being swept out from under my feet, the feeling of agony that would eventually plague me as a whole; starting from my heart and spreading throughout.

i chose to ignore the inevitable end with bitter denial.

the pain of holding on felt worth it if it meant you were mine; even if those last few fleeting moments of reciprocated love were all in my head.

it was worth it if it meant i could be yours just a second longer.

main masterlist

47 notes · View notes

clumsy-jiminie · 2 years ago

Text

✨ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ ✨

✧ before you indulge ✧

- minors do not interact with this blog. my stories/reblogs will include mature themes including but not limited to: mature language, depictions of mental distress, vivid descriptions of sexual content, depictions of violence, and alcohol/drug consumption. each post will include a warning list before reading. if you feel I missed anything, you can shoot me a message. - I switch off between named oc’s and second pov y/n’s pretty often. pick your poison. - my updates are sporadic unless stated otherwise. - my inbox is always open. 💕

✧ key ✧

🔞 - mature content ☁️ - fluff 🥀 - angst 😈 - smut (os) - one shot | (s) - series | (d) - drabble | (ds) - drabble series

✧ fic recommendations ✧

✦ kim namjoon ✦

↣ just a neighbor | (os) | 😈

◦ neighbor!namjoon x fem!reader ◦ summary :: you get some help from your generous neighbor. ◦ themes :: hookup culture, cheating

↣ to hold a flame | (s) | 🔞☁️😈

◦ demon!namjoon x fem!mc ◦ summary :: tba ◦ themes :: hurt comfort, fated mates ◦ status :: coming soon 🕯️

✦ kim seokjin ✦

↣ little white lie | (d) | ☁️ (coming soon)

◦ kim seokjin x fem!reader ◦ summary :: tbh ◦ themes :: instalove

✦ min yoongi ✦

↣ twice the fun | (os) | 😈

◦ jung hoseok x fem!reader x min yoongi ◦ summary :: your regular hookup has a surprise for you. ◦ themes :: hookup culture, threesome, mfm

✦ jung hoseok ✦

↣ twice the fun | (os) | 😈

◦ jung hoseok x fem!reader x min yoongi ◦ summary :: your regular hookup has a surprise for you. ◦ themes :: hookup culture, threesome, mfm

✦ park jimin ✦

↣ ghost | (d) | 🥀

◦ park jimin x fem!reader ◦ summary :: you haunt jimin's dreams at night. ◦ themes :: two ships passing in the wind, star-crossed lovers

↣ inevitably yours | (s) | 🥀😈☁️

◦ park jimin x fem!mc ◦ summary :: the line between love and hate is thin after all. ◦ themes :: enemies to lovers, slow burn ◦ status :: coming soon 🕯️

✦ kim taehyung ✦

↣ the eros pact | (ds) | 😈🥀☁️

◦ kim taehyung x fem!reader ◦ summary :: you ask your best friend for some serious help. ◦ themes :: hookup culture, roommates, friends to lovers ◦ status :: completed ✔️

✦ jeon jeongguk ✦

↣ broken codes | (s) | 🔞🥀😈☁️

◦ mafia!jeon jeongguk x mafia!fem!reader ◦ summary :: where an arrogant decision sets a path to destruction. ◦ themes :: mafia au, stockholm syndrome ◦ status :: coming soon 🕯️ (currently being rewritten)

#bts fanfics #bts one shots #masterlist

18 notes · View notes

namfinessed · 1 year ago

Note

Heloo have you seen this initiative? https://www.tumblr.com/ficsforgaza/751872195654975488/hi-everyone-for-those-of-you-who-are-seeing-us

It’s called ficsforgaza and it seems really cool

hello! thank you so much for bringing this to my attention, it's a wonderful cause and i would love to participate but part of the guidelines is to write for animanga or video game characters which i do not do.

but i would still like to do my part here.

if any of my readers have requests that they want personally, which i will not be posting in my account, you can request your idea or the base of it and i would love to make something for you and all i ask for is a donation screenshot to any vetted-organisation like careforgaza, etc.

there will be no price limit to how much you have to donate, please donate what you can and i will be linking several organisations in the reply section of this post for you to follow, it could also be any other verified organization, not just the ones i share.

please do remember that i am a university student, i don’t write smut and it will take me time but if you're patient and willing to donate, i promise to do my best for you.

again, thank you to anonymous for sending me this and i hope people participate in whichever way they can.

free palestine 🍉

11 notes · View notes

jkwrites-m · 25 days ago

Text

Welcome Home

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: He’s finally home. And Y/N is ready to love him for the rest of forever.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, cursing, kissing, emotional vulnerability, light confessions, multiple smut scenes, separation, military, crying, light anxiety, explicit: praise, fingering, body worship, breast play, oral (f. receiving), slight handjob, unprotected sex (this is fiction!),

A/N: in honor of our boys coming back 🫡 (& another time ending & crying from everyone’s lovely comments), here’s a lil something since I stayed up all night to write bc what’s sleep? 🫶 (i originally planned like 3k words but i got kinda carried away 🤭)

♡ MASTERLIST

═══════

The clock ticked louder than it ever had before.

I’d vacuumed the living room twice. Rearranged the throw pillows six times. Lit two candles- one because it smelled like vanilla and safety, and the other because it was his favorite and smelled like expensive cologne and pine trees. My heart had been hammering against my ribs for the past hour, and now it had officially moved to my throat.

I was pacing.

Still in his oversized gray hoodie. Still barefoot. Still wearing the stupid socks with the tiny bunnies on them because they were his favorite and made him smile when he caught me dancing in them, and god, I just wanted him to smile again.

Eighteen months.

A year and a half of letters and FaceTime and countdowns and aching. The kind of ache that settled into your bones and made even the softest days feel sharp. And now, at last, it was over.

He was coming home.

Jeon Jungkook- my boyfriend, my best friend, my whole fucking world- was minutes away from walking through our door.

I felt like I was going to throw up. Or cry. Or both.

Probably both.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror and winced. I looked soft, nervous, flushed. Eyes too bright, mouth slightly open like I was afraid to breathe.

The couch still had the dent from the last time he sat there, all those months ago, legs spread, hair a mess, tugging me onto his lap while pretending we had five more minutes. The plants had survived, shockingly. His bunny mug was still in the cabinet, a little dusty but sacred. His dog tags were tucked in the top drawer of my nightstand, hidden like a secret I never wanted to forget.

My phone buzzed.

Jungkook: On my way up now 💜

My lungs forgot how to work.

I backed up until I was pressed against the front door, fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie, grounding myself in the scent that still lingered no matter how long it had been washed.

A minute passed.

And then, I heard it.

The sound of keys.

The soft jingle of metal against metal.

The world stopped spinning.

The doorknob turned slowly, like a movie playing in slow motion. The click of the lock releasing. A pause. A shift in the air.

And then- he was there.

He stood there for a second like he wasn’t sure if this was real.

His uniform was neat but creased from travel. The duffel bag slipped off his shoulder and thudded to the floor, forgotten. His hair was shorter than when I last saw him, neatly buzzed on the sides, grown just enough on top to let a few strands curl slightly across his forehead. His eyes- those stupid, beautiful brown eyes met mine, and they were glassy.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. I just stared, like blinking might make him disappear.

He said nothing at first. Just looked at me like I was a miracle.

And then he smiled.

That lazy, crooked, I-love-you-so-much-I-can’t-stand-it smile.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice rough and low.

I didn’t remember crossing the room. I just knew I was in his arms.

I slammed into him with enough force that he stumbled back a step, and his arms snapped around me like steel. His breath hitched. My fingers dug into his back, holding him as close as possible, trying to pull him into me.

“Shit,” he whispered against my hair. “You’re real. You’re really here.”

“You’re here,” I breathed, shaking. “You’re actually here.”

And then we kissed.

Hard. Fast. Desperate.

He tasted like spearmint gum and tears and every single day I’d waited for him. Our mouths clashed, messy and urgent, and I whimpered when he cupped my face with both hands, thumbs stroking the apples of my cheeks like I might fade if he didn’t touch every inch of me.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead to mine, his voice cracking.

“I kept dreaming about this.”

I laughed through a sob. “I kept your mug on the top shelf. It’s dusty as hell, but it’s yours.”

He laughed, breathless, hugging me tighter. “That stupid bunny one?”

“Of course.”

He looked at me like I was made of stars. “God, I missed you.”

I swallowed hard. “I missed you so bad, Jungkook. It physically hurt.”

His nose brushed mine. “Don’t cry yet. You promised not to cry.”

I wiped at my cheeks, sniffling. “You promised not to make me cry in the first five minutes.”

“And yet here we are,” he said with a grin, stepping inside fully and kicking the door closed behind him.

The moment it clicked shut, something shifted.

The weight of the past eighteen months lifted just enough for us to breathe.

He bent down, gently picking up his duffel bag with one hand and keeping the other firmly around my waist, like letting go wasn’t an option. I guided him toward the living room, heart still pounding in my ears, his presence so overwhelming it felt like light filling up every corner of a long-empty room.

═══════

We sat on the couch in the same spot we always claimed.

He let out a long sigh and leaned back, pulling me onto his lap without hesitation. I curled into him like I’d never left, straddling his thighs, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs rubbing slow, calming circles.

“Still fits,” he murmured, looking down at the way I curled into him.

“What, me?” I teased.

He smirked. “You. The hoodie. The weight of you in my arms. All of it.”

I flushed, brushing my fingers across his cheek. “You look… God, I forgot how good you look up close.”

“Yeah?” he said, eyebrows raised, cocky grin pulling at his lips.

I nodded, biting my lip. “Like you’re gonna kiss me stupid again.”

He didn’t answer with words. He leaned in and did exactly that.

His lips were warm and familiar.

The kind of kiss that melted through skin and settled in the marrow.

I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t think I could stop. His mouth moved against mine like he was relearning every curve, every sigh, every tiny sound I made when he tilted his head just a little bit more. His fingers pressed against the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was nothing left between us but heat and years of pent-up wanting.

When we finally broke for air, he was smiling.

That soft, smug, gorgeous smile I hadn’t seen in person in far too long.

“You’re seriously trying to kill me,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along his bottom lip.

His eyes sparkled. “You think I flew across the country, got discharged, and came home just to not kiss you stupid?”

I snorted, burying my face in his neck. “You smell like detergent and danger.”

“Danger?” he repeated with a laugh. “Baby, I’m tame now. Government-issued. Fully trained in discipline.”

I pulled back just enough to raise a brow. “Yeah? That right?”

He nodded solemnly. “Mmhm. Highly decorated. Wildness fully contained.”

I rolled my hips just slightly in his lap- barely there, just enough to see if he’d crack.

He did.

“Fuck,” he hissed, hands tightening on my hips. “Okay- maybe not that contained.”

“That’s what I thought,” I whispered, lips brushing against the corner of his jaw.

His head tilted back, exposing his throat, and I kissed the smooth skin there, letting my teeth graze just enough to make him shiver.

“Eighteen months,” he whispered. “Do you know how many times I imagined this exact moment?”

“How many?”

“Too many to count. Always you. Always this hoodie. Always the way you look when you’re about to get what you want.”

I grinned. “What makes you think I’m about to get what I want?”

His hands slid under the hem of the hoodie, fingers grazing my bare thighs.

“Because I’m about to give you everything.”

═══════

He stood with me in his arms like I weighed nothing, one arm hooked under my legs, the other around my back. I squealed, laughing into his shoulder as he carried me down the hallway like some lovesick soldier in a romantic drama.

“I can walk, you know,” I teased.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he said, voice low. “Let me carry you for a bit.”

I bit my lip, heart stuttering.

He pushed open the bedroom door with his foot and set me down gently on the mattress. For a moment, we just looked at each other. No words. No teasing.

Just us.

His eyes roamed my face like it was holy. Like he was mapping me out again. He slid his hand up my leg slowly, reverently, pausing at the edge of the hoodie.

“Still mine?” he asked, voice rough.

“Always,” I whispered.

His mouth crashed into mine again.

But this time, it was slower. Deeper. We kissed like we had time. Like we had forever.

And as his hands started tugging fabric, and mine fumbled with the buttons of his uniform, I felt it- that tiny pulse of something perfect. Something sacred.

He kissed down the column of my neck like it was the only way he remembered how to breathe.

Slow, lingering, lips dragging along my pulse point, a warm exhale every time his mouth hovered just above skin. My fingers were in his hair before I realized it, tugging slightly, needing to anchor myself in something because I felt like I was floating.

The hoodie was still on me.

I think he liked it that way for a minute- his oversized clothing wrapped around my body, bare legs curled in the sheets beneath me, looking up at him like he hung the damn stars.

“Kook,” I whispered, fingers brushing his jaw.

He looked up, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Take it off,” I said, voice smaller than I meant it to be. “Please.”

His expression softened.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t tug or yank or act like he’d been waiting eighteen months just to get me naked- even if we both knew that was true. Instead, he knelt on the bed, hands sliding slowly up my thighs and under the hoodie, pushing the fabric up inch by inch.

I raised my arms for him.

He peeled it off gently, reverently like unwrapping something precious.

I was bare underneath. Nothing but skin and nerves.

He let out a slow, shaky breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

My skin flushed. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

His eyes drank me in like he was trying to memorize everything- the curve of my waist, the swell of my chest, the way I was already squirming under his gaze.

“You look like a dream,” he said, voice hoarse.

“And you look like mine,” I whispered back.

He leaned down, lips brushing the skin between my breasts, and I arched up into him on instinct.

Everything felt amplified. My body was hyper-aware of him. The way his fingertips skated along my hips, how he kissed across my ribs, how he made sure to linger in every spot that made me twitch or sigh or clutch the sheets.

“Still okay?” he asked, lips hovering above my belly.

“God, yes.”

“I want to go slow,” he murmured. “I don’t want to miss a single second.”

I reached for him, tugged gently on his shirt. “Then take this off and let me look at you.”

He sat up and pulled the dark green uniform shirt over his head, revealing tanned skin and inked muscle. My mouth dried instantly.

“You’ve been working out,” I said, biting my lip.

He smirked. “Had to keep busy.”

“Well, it paid off.”

I ran my hands down his chest, loving the way he shivered under my touch.

He lowered himself onto me, skin to skin now, heat meeting heat, and kissed me like he meant to make up for every night we’d lost.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered, voice barely holding together.

“I do,” I breathed. “Because I felt it too.”

His hand slipped between us, and I gasped.

The real beginning was here.

And I was ready.

═══════

His fingers moved slowly- deliberate, trembling slightly, like the gravity of touching me again after so long was still settling in.

I opened for him instinctively, breath catching as he slid two fingers along my folds, testing, teasing, learning me all over again. His forehead pressed to mine, eyes never leaving mine, watching every twitch of my mouth as I whimpered under his touch.

The air between us was thick with anticipation, heavy with the weight of eighteen months apart.

“You’re soaked,” he breathed, his voice rough and low, as if the words were torn from him against his will.

“You’re late,” I whispered, a teasing edge to my tone, though my heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, even as my body arched into his touch, craving more.

He let out a strangled laugh and kissed me again, lips claiming, hand steady as he slipped one finger inside me, and I gasped so loud he groaned, his breath hot against my skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, kissing down my throat. “I forgot how tight- how perfect- ”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I breathed, nails digging into his shoulder, holding him close. I needed him, needed this, after so long apart.

He didn’t.

A second finger joined the first, slower now, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of me. My hips bucked up into his hand without shame, without hesitation.

I wanted all of him. Now.

My hands fumbled at his waistband, and he didn’t stop me. In fact, he shifted just enough to help, pushing the last of his clothing off, bare now, hot and flushed and hard as hell. My mouth actually dropped open.

I looked down.

“Oh.”

His smirk was wicked, playful, the same one that had always made my heart skip a beat. “Something you missed?”

I bit my lip. “So much.”

And then I was on my back again, legs wrapped around his waist, his body hovering above mine like a question- waiting for the answer we both already knew. I could feel the heat of him, the weight of him, and my answer was already written in the way my body arched toward his.

“Still sure?” he whispered, forehead pressed to mine.

“Don’t make me beg,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.

His hips rolled forward.

We both gasped.

It was a stretch- the good kind. The perfect kind. Like being filled up with something that felt like love and breath and the sun all at once. He sank in slowly, carefully, kissing me through every inch, groaning against my mouth when he bottomed out.

We didn’t move at first.

Just stared at each other like the world had ended and we were all that was left. His eyes searched mine, full of questions and answers, of everything we hadn’t said in the months apart.

Then he started to move.

Slow. Rhythmic. Deep.

Every thrust was measured, like he wasn’t just fucking me- he was remembering me. I clung to him, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, my hands digging into his back, mouth open with moans I couldn’t control. My breath stuttered in time with his hips, and I felt every inch of him, every memory, every moment we’d missed.

“God, I missed you,” he groaned.

“I never stopped wanting you,” I cried out, my voice breaking as tears welled in my eyes.

He kissed away the tears as they came- not rushed, not frantic. Just present. Every part of him was right there. No space left between us. No apologies. Just forgiveness and softness and heat and-

My orgasm hit me like a wave.

It stole my breath and made me cry out, body tightening around him in a way that made him curse beautifully into my neck. He didn’t stop moving. He kept going- rougher now, chasing his own high as he buried his face in my chest.

“I’m close,” he panted, his voice a raw whisper. “Fuck- I’m- ”

“Cum,” I whispered. “Come home to me.”

That did it.

He spilled into me with a guttural moan, shaking, holding me so tight I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.

We stayed like that for a long time.

Sticky. Sweaty. Tired. Home.

═══════

Later, he curled into me, head resting on my chest like it was the only pillow that ever made sense. One leg hooked over mine. One arm around my waist. He held me like I was the last tether holding him to earth- like if he let go, the world would tip again.

I couldn’t stop touching him.

My fingers carded through his hair, slow and steady. It was softer than I remembered. Freshly washed, warm from sweat, the ends damp and curling from the heat between us. I pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and inhaled deeply, committing the moment to memory.

He didn’t speak. But I knew he wasn’t asleep.

His breath hitched every time I stroked behind his ear. His thumb brushed back and forth across the skin just above my hip bone, like he was counting seconds.

He was still here. Still present. Still grounding himself.

Every so often, he’d let out a long breath, not quite a sigh, more like a release. As if with each exhale, a little more of the weight he’d carried for eighteen months finally bled out of him.

“I love you,” I whispered, not even meaning to say it aloud.

But he hummed in response, soft and quiet, like his soul already knew.

And still, I held him.

I let my fingers explore gently. Tracing the curve of his shoulder, the line of his spine, the new ridges and hardness in his body that hadn’t been there before. He’d grown stronger. Quieter. Older, somehow. But this- the way he clung to me like I was his anchor, hadn’t changed at all.

Finally, his breathing began to slow.

His grip loosened, not in fear, but in peace. His face softened, lips parting slightly as sleep took him. I kissed his temple, felt the tiny twitch of his lashes against my chest.

I waited until he was fully still. Until the apartment around us felt like a cocoon, and the air between us had settled into something sacred.

Then I leaned in close. My lips brushing the shell of his ear, breath warming his skin.

“Welcome home,” I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

But the smile that tugged at his lips in sleep was enough.

═══════

When I woke up, the room was blue.

That soft, pre-dawn blue where everything looks like a painting. The blinds were tilted just enough for the city lights to bleed through, casting long shadows across the sheets tangled around our bodies. I hadn’t moved. Neither had he.

Jungkook was still draped over me, cheek pressed to my chest, breathing slow and even. His arm was slung lazily over my waist, fingers curled into the fabric of the sheet like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go.

I could barely breathe, but not because of the weight.

Because of the peace.

I lay there, unmoving, eyes tracing the slope of his bare shoulder, the tiny freckles on his back, the edge of the tattoo that peeked out from beneath the covers. God, I missed those freckles. I missed the way he slept- completely uninhibited, one leg flung out, lips parted slightly like he’d been dreaming something soft.

He made this tiny sound when I brushed a hand down his spine. A low, sleepy murmur, almost like a cat stretching into touch. I smiled.

“I missed that noise,” I whispered, not really intending for him to hear.

But he shifted slightly, his voice thick and rough from sleep. “Missed you whispering in bed.”

My breath caught. I looked down, and sure enough, his eyes were barely open.

His lips were pulled into a sleepy, lopsided smile.

“Good morning,” I said, brushing the hair from his forehead.

“Best one I’ve had in eighteen months.”

I felt my throat close a little. “You remember how to flirt, I see.”

“Hard to forget when you were in my dreams every damn night.”

He pushed himself up on one elbow and hovered above me, the sheet slipping slightly to reveal his chest. He leaned down and kissed my bare shoulder. Then my collarbone. Then the corner of my mouth.

“You smell the same,” he whispered.

“So do you.”

He smiled. “Must be fate.”

I laughed, pushing at his chest until he collapsed beside me with a groan, arm pulling me with him. I curled into his side, my hand resting over his heart.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat. “Really okay?”

I nodded against him. “I didn’t realize how not-okay I was until I could touch you again.”

He swallowed hard. “Same.”

We lay in silence for a moment, just listening to each other breathe. There was something sacred about the quiet. Something that didn’t need to be filled. Just held.

“I was scared,” he said quietly, voice so low I almost missed it.

My heart paused.

He was staring at the ceiling now, one arm still around me, his fingers drumming slowly against my hip. It was a nervous rhythm, soft and off-tempo. Like he was fighting the words.

“What were you scared of?” I asked, nuzzling closer, my nose brushing his jaw.

He hesitated, then turned to face me fully.

“That you’d move on,” he said. “That you’d realize you didn’t want to wait anymore. That someone else would come along and actually be there for you.”

I blinked at him.

“Jungkook.”

He looked down. “I know it’s dumb. You always reassured me. But every time I saw your face through a screen instead of in front of me, it hit me all over again. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t hold you when you cried. I couldn’t kiss you when you had a bad day. I couldn’t even send you a real fucking gift without jumping through a dozen approval hoops.”

“You sent me letters,” I whispered, voice thick.

“I wanted to send me. Not scraps of me. All of me.”

I cupped his face gently. His eyes were glassy again, lashes heavy with emotion.

“I never wanted anyone else,” I told him. “Not even for a second.”

He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t stay because I’m a good girlfriend,” I continued. “I stayed because you’re my person. You’re the one I see when I think of forever. There’s no timeline that could ever make me forget that.”

He leaned forward and kissed me- slow, deep, thankful. He kissed me like I’d just saved his life.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against my lips.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

We fell back against the pillows, foreheads touching, breath shared. The silence between us wasn’t silence anymore. It was full. Of everything we’d said. And everything we didn’t need to.

After a few minutes, I rested my chin on his chest.

“I had my own fears,” I admitted.

He looked down at me. “Yeah?”

I nodded slowly. “That when you came back, you’d be… different. That maybe the version of you I remembered wouldn’t exist anymore. That I wouldn’t know how to fit next to you again.”

He traced a finger along my back. “Did it feel like that?”

“No,” I said. “It felt like breathing again.”

He pulled me tighter against him. “Then let’s never stop.”

My heart fluttered.

He kissed my forehead and whispered, “We can stay here all day, you know. Screw the outside world. No alarms. No phone calls. Just you, me, and this bed.”

“You’re speaking my language,” I murmured.

“I’ve always been fluent in you.”

I giggled, hiding my face against his chest. “That was so cheesy.”

He grinned. “I’ve been saving that line for weeks.”

═══════

Time slowed in the haze of post-reunion softness.

I couldn’t tell how long we’d been wrapped up in each other like that. Minutes? Hours? I didn’t care. The world outside our bedroom didn’t exist. It’s just the faint hum of the fridge, the occasional car below our window, and the steady thrum of Jungkook’s heartbeat beneath my cheek.

“I missed this,” I mumbled, eyes still closed.

He stroked my back gently. “What, cuddling naked in bed while I sweat like a furnace?”

I snorted. “No. Well, yes. But also this. Just being dumb and half-asleep and saying things like ‘I missed this.’”

His chest rumbled under me with quiet laughter. “I missed you being dumb and half-asleep.”

“Charming.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

We stayed there, giggling softly, like we were trying not to wake the memory of everything we’d been through. I traced lazy shapes on his chest, spelling out nonsense, occasionally drawing a heart or writing his name with my fingertip.

He hummed. “Whatcha writing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Is it dirty?”

I grinned up at him. “What if it is?”

He leaned down, nudging my nose with his. “Then I’m obviously obligated to investigate.”

His mouth found mine again. Slow, sleepy, and deliciously unhurried. He kissed me like there was no rush. Like we had all the time in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, we did.

When we pulled apart, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You wanna know what I missed the most?”

I nodded.

He smiled. “The way you look at me when you’re not saying anything. Just… like that. Like you already know I’m yours.”

I felt my eyes sting.

“And you are,” I whispered. “You always were.”

═══════

Eventually, our stomachs growled loud enough to interrupt the moment.

He groaned. “Okay. I love you, but I also love food.”

“You can have both,” I said. “You have me and leftover ramen in the fridge.”

He lit up like a little kid. “You kept the leftovers?”

I smirked. “I keep everything.”

He reached for his boxers, but I yanked him back by the waistband and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m serious, though. Today’s just for us.”

“No calls. No errands. No makeup or clothes unless absolutely necessary.”

He saluted. “Roger that. I am officially yours for the day.”

“You’re mine every day.”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “Damn right I am.”

═══════

Jungkook made breakfast shirtless, and I decided I was never letting him leave the apartment again.

He wore nothing but those gray sweatpants and a sleepy grin, hair messy from bed, dog tags clinking softly as he moved around the kitchen like it was still his. Like no time had passed. Like his body didn’t just come home from the weight of eighteen months of structure and silence.

I sat on the counter in one of his old t-shirts (the black one with the tiny bleach stain near the hem) and watched him whisk eggs like it was the most mesmerizing thing in the world.

“I forgot how loud you are in the kitchen,” I teased, swinging my legs.

“I forgot how nosy you are,” he shot back with a grin, glancing over his shoulder.

I smiled, sipping my coffee. “Is it weird that this feels normal already?”

“Not weird. Perfect.”

He poured the eggs into the skillet and crossed the kitchen to stand between my legs. His hands rested on my thighs, his head dropping to my shoulder.

“I used to imagine this exact moment,” he said softly. “Waking up with you. Cooking for you. Holding you in a room that didn’t echo.”

My fingers threaded through his hair. “We’re here now.”

“I know.” His lips brushed my neck. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

═══════

We ate together at the counter. Laughing over slightly burnt toast, fighting over who got more juice, giggling when he leaned over just to kiss the corner of my mouth.

Every moment felt precious. Every touch mattered.

After breakfast, we curled up on the couch- me wrapped in a blanket, him lying between my legs, head on my chest like before. Our show played in the background, but we didn’t pay attention. We were too caught up in each other.

“I kept watching this without you,” I admitted.

He gasped dramatically. “You betrayed me.”

“I had to do something to feel close to you.”

He smiled, looking up at me. “You could’ve just written ‘Jungkook is sexy’ on all the mirrors.”

I snorted. “You assume I didn’t?”

He burst out laughing, hand sliding under the blanket to squeeze my knee. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We stayed that way until the sunlight shifted, the afternoon creeping across the walls. And still, neither of us moved.

He sighed deeply, hand stroking my hip under the blanket. “You know the hardest part?”

I tilted my head.

“It wasn’t the schedule. Or the drills. Or the cold nights. It was sleeping without you. Going to bed and waking up without you.”

I bent down and kissed his temple. “Well, you’re never doing that again.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

═══════

Night fell slow and soft over the apartment, wrapping everything in gold. The city hummed outside the window, but inside, it was just us. Tangled limbs. Quiet breaths. Familiar touches.

We lay curled around each other in bed, the comforter kicked halfway down, skin against skin. I was spooned against his chest, his arm tucked tight around my waist, nose pressed to the back of my neck. I could feel him breathing me in.

And then his hand started moving.

Not hurried. Not rough. Just soft, slow strokes across my stomach. Fingertips tracing idle patterns, brushing under the hem of the shirt I’d borrowed from him again.

“Kook,” I whispered, breath catching.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just nuzzled closer, pressed a warm kiss just below my ear.

“I can’t stop touching you,” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep and want. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes, warm and heavy-lidded, held a vulnerability I wasn’t used to seeing. “It’s real,” I whispered, reaching down to lace our fingers together.

His hand was calloused, a reminder of the life he’d lived without me for the past eighteen months, but his touch was gentle, as if he feared I might shatter.

He turned me gently onto my back, body sliding over mine in one smooth, fluid motion. His weight wasn’t oppressive; it was grounding, a reminder of his presence, of us. His lips found my collarbone, and I felt the low hum in his throat as he kissed lower, slower.

My body responded instinctively, arching slightly as his mouth trailed down, his tongue leaving a wet path that made me squirm beneath him.

“Need you one more time,” he said.

My breath hitched. “You just had me.”

“I know,” he whispered, forehead resting against mine. “But I want to feel it again. All of it. You. Us. This. Before sleep takes me.”

There was no room for teasing now, no space for jokes. Just heat and heartache and something deeper than either of us could put into words.

His lips found mine, and he kissed me like it was his final prayer, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every missed moment, into that single touch.

Hands exploring like every inch of me was sacred.

He pushed my hair back, exposing the curve of my neck, and kissed every inch of newly revealed skin as if asking permission all over again. My shirt was peeled away slowly, his lips following the fabric as it slid off my shoulders.

I shivered as his mouth found the sensitive skin of my breasts, his tongue tracing the outline of my nipples before taking one into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, until I gasped his name.

“Kook,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his black hair, pulling him closer.

He smiled against my skin, a cheeky grin that made my heart flutter. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his lips moving lower, his hands sliding down my body.

He kissed my stomach, my hips, my thighs as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants. I lifted my hips, helping him slide them off, and he paused, his eyes drinking me in like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe.

I blushed, but the heat in my cheeks was nothing compared to the fire burning low in my belly. “Baby,” I whispered, urging him closer.

His lips found the junction of my thighs, his breath warm against my cunt. I gasped as his tongue pressed against me, slow and deliberate, tasting me like I was the sweetest thing he’d ever known.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he explored, his tongue dipping and swirling, his mouth sucking gently, then harder, until I was moaning his name, my fingers clutching at the sheets.

“Fuuuck, Kook,” I groaned, my body arching off the bed. “Right there.”

He hummed his approval, his tongue pressing deeper, his fingers sliding between my folds, teasing the spot that made me see stars.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice muffled against my skin. “So fucking perfect.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through me, and I felt my walls clenching around his tongue, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Baby, please,” I begged, my body on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release.

He smiled against me, his lips curving into that cheeky grin I loved so much. “I got you baby,” he whispered, pulling back slightly, his tongue tracing lazy circles that made me whimper. “Come apart for me.”

His words were the push, and I felt my body respond, my muscles tightening, my breath hitching as he worked his magic. His tongue was relentless, his mouth devouring me, his fingers sliding inside me, stretching me, filling me, until I was a mess of moans and pleas, my body trembling on the brink.

“Kook, I- ”

He didn’t let me finish. His mouth closed over me, his tongue pressing hard against my clit, his fingers curling inside me, and I shattered. My back arched, my nails digging into his shoulders as my orgasm ripped through me, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me, leaving me breathless and boneless.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, my body still trembling as he kissed his way back up, his lips brushing against mine. “That was-“

“Not enough,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “But we’ll fix that.”

He shifted, his body moving over mine, his lips finding mine again, kissing me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine as he settled between my legs. I felt him, hard and thick, pressing against my thigh, and I reached down, wrapping my hand around him, stroking slowly, savoring the feel of him, the way he twitched in my grip.

“You’re so hard,” I murmured, my thumb brushing over the head, smearing the pre-cum that had leaked from him.

“All for you,” he replied, his voice a low growl. “Always.”

He kissed me again, his lips moving to my neck, my collarbone, his hands sliding down my body, teasing, touching, until I was squirming beneath him, needy and desperate for more.

“I want you inside me,” I whispered, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He kissed me like he was claiming me, his lips fierce and hungry, his hands gripping my hips as he positioned himself at my entrance. I felt him press against me, the head of his cock teasing my folds, and I gasped as he slid inside, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine.

It felt different. More intense. Like our bodies remembered each other better than our minds ever could. There was no rush. No wild rhythm. Just slow, deep movements- hips rocking together in a perfect, quiet ache.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You feel so good.”

I wrapped my legs tighter around him, urging him deeper, and he obliged, his hips rocking into mine, his thrusts slow and controlled, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His eyes stayed locked on mine, his expression raw and open, as if he was laying his soul bare.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice a chant, a tether holding him to me. “So much.”

I kissed the corner of his mouth, the edge of his jaw, my fingers tracing the scar near his shoulder, a reminder of the life he’d lived before me.

“I’m yours,” I told him. “Always.”

His thrusts grew deeper, his hips moving in a rhythm that matched my own, our bodies moving as one, our breaths syncing, our hearts beating in time.

The air was thick with the sound of our skin slapping together, our moans filling the room, our pleasure building, inexorable and undeniable.

“Kook,” I gasped, my body tightening around him, my walls clenching as I felt the familiar coil of pleasure building low in my belly. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “Cum with me, baby. Let go.”

My body shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me, my cries echoing in the room as he followed, his own release spilling into me, his name on my lips as we came apart together, our bodies trembling, our breaths ragged, our hearts pounding.

He collapsed beside me, chest rising fast, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. I turned into him, pulling the blanket up over us. His hand found mine beneath it.

“I could stay here forever,” he mumbled, lips brushing my temple.

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I’d let you.”

And then, slowly, his body began to relax. His breathing slowed. His grip on my hand loosened just slightly as his eyes fluttered shut.

I looked at him. He’s so beautiful and unguarded in sleep.

My heart ached with how much I loved him.

I leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

“No more waiting, baby. No more distance. You’re home… you always were.”

═══════

♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/10/2025

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts ff #bts ffs #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #welcome home m #jkwrites m one shot

2K notes · View notes

kooktrash · 9 months ago

Text

effortlessly yours ✧ jeon jungkook

summary: in an effort to catch a break from the people around him, jungkook stumbles into a bar on the other side of town and meets you—the one serving his drinks. things happen quite effortlessly between you and before you knew it, you’ve welcomed him to change your life for the better.

✧ genre/au: banker!jk x bartender!y/n [she/her. afab]. strangers to lovers. smut.

✧ 16.9k words

warnings: smut. heavy plot. oc is lowkey broke as helll and jk is lowkey a chaebol but humble fr 😩. princess treatment. beware oc’s ex is taehyung and he’s not great. slow burn. smut—riding. missionary. oral [both receiving]. heavy make outs. heavy petting. breast play. use of protection. needy af. — jk’s friends kinda rude but also not? rich boys. financial problems. mention of economic differences. damn near love at first sight. everyone’s an ex boyf hater. oc forced to live with ex bc of money. love at first sight? jk is whipped :(. for once he’s not a fighter, he’s just a pretty boy with money to spoil his gf <3

song inspo: wasn’t looking — eliza, love between — kali uchis, blue — billie eilish, salvatore— lana del rey, I wanna be yours — arctic monkeys

I forgot but god bless @vngelicc for putting up with my constant plot changes and helping me out 💀

Many of your nights have been spent at this small place serving drinks to the same people, engaging in the same conversation, going through the same thing. Without a fail you’ve lived in this cycle of mundaneness and it drive you insane.

Nothing ever happened to you and when it did, it was never for the better. That’s what you’ve always thought anyway.

“Any Macallan? I'll have a glass,” You stared at the stranger with a blank expression, he met you with an unwavering gaze looking every bit out of place here as you felt.

He’s asking if you carry an expensive bottle of Bourbon that a place like this could not afford keeping in stock. If you did, no one here would want to pay the price of a glass. Compared to the regulars around the bar he clearly stood out to everyone. The college guys who lived a couple blocks down looked at him just as strangely as the two office workers down the bar did.

“We’ve got Buchannan’s,” You said plainly, taking his attention away from the aged jukebox in the corner that now had a big screen attached to it. It was your typical bar with its dark countertops, pool tables, darts, et cetera. It was the first place he could find on this side of town—clearly not a place of luxury.

“I’ll take it,” He tried to sound happy about it, biting down at his bottom lip as his phone screen lit up with notifications. He had nearly a dozen texts from close friends asking him what his plans were for tonight but he didn’t want to talk right now and they’d want to know why.

Soon you had his glass of whiskey in front of him and he was opening a tab while you helped others. You didn’t think much about the man aside from how attractive he looked. Many stragglers found their way here but after one night they’d return to wherever they’re from and never look back.

“You drink that expensive whiskey because you like it or because you can afford it?”

An older man spoke up from across the bar, looking at the stranger with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He’s one of those guys that gets a few drinks in him and either wants to spark conversation or a fight. Part of you paid attention to the conversation, part of you looked at the line of messages on your phone.

“I’m sorry?” The guy from earlier asked seemingly unimpressed by the attempt to get to him. The older man was dressed in a dirty t-shirt and flannel while he wore some expensive suit like he’d just gotten off work.

“Or is it to impress?”

“Impress who?” A light scoff left his lips, looking around the bar, eyes hesitating on you for a moment. Aside from you there were a few others who might catch his eye but not enough for him to point out or feel the need to impress.

You weren’t even looking at anyone or him for that matter, your attention was solely on your cell phone and by the look on your face, whatever was on there was more important. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your brows began to furrow with concentration as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing.

unknown: can we talk when ur done working?

unknown: it’s about us

What?

“Y/n maybe? I doubt any of us are your type—“

What? You looked up immediately at the call of your name, ready to make someone another cocktail or close someone’s tab. Instead you were called in the middle of a conversation that you wanted no part of.

“Another beer?” You tried to cut in and shut the regular up but it was a useless attempt because everyone around the bar was already staring at you—including the stranger. How did you miss whatever they were talking about? You were too focused on the texts from a certain someone that you had lost attention to people at the bar.

“What is your name anyway? I’ve never seen you here before,” The customer told him, ignoring you and trying to push for more talk. You just sighed and leaned back thinking back to your phone.

“Jeon Jungkook,” He said in his usual confident manner, gaze flickering to you for a moment but you were distracted once more, this time typing rapidly. You were pretty, too pretty to be serving these guys on a Tuesday night.

Another man appeared from behind a door holding more bottles of liquor. He looked indifferent to whatever was going on out here but when he looked at you, you said something. Jungkook was more interested to hear what that was than whatever the people around him had to say.

The two of you talked for a while and he distracted himself with his phone.

hobi: doubles tomorrow with jimin and jin? 🎾

jungkook: I couldn’t think of anything worse

jimin: watch urself

jin: and where’d u run off to tonight

Your coworker, Yoongi, looked at you with concerned eyes. You’ve known each other long enough to know when somethings wrong and Yoongi was able to tell so fast, “If you need to make a call just go, I’ll take over for now.”

His friend asked the question he’s been trying to ask himself all night. How’d he find himself here on the other side of the city with the only people to entertain him being drunks and… you?

“Is he always like this?” Jungkook found himself asking now that the man from earlier had moved on to someone else to bother. You looked ready to run out but stopped to look at him. Yoongi was giving you time to sort whatever problem you had at the moment but now a customer was talking to you.

You shrugged, “Yeah but he’s harmless, a little annoying but funny.”

jungkook: some bar but I’m leaving soon

Jungkook looked at you up close now. You wore all black, somewhere between casual but dressed up enough. From what he can tell you’re pretty, like an effortless kind of pretty. You barely cared to engage with him, completely unaware of how he looked you over.

“Can I close my tab?” He asked as he fished for his wallet.

“No problem, remind me the name,” Yoongi came up from behind you, hand on your back urging you to go and he’ll take care of it. Jungkook looked at him with disinterest as you ran off in a hurry and sighed, “Jeon Jungkook.”

jungkook: it’s boring

The place he called home was about thirty minutes away from the bar he visited a few nights ago. He lived on the upper side of the city where buildings towered sky high and rent was at high rates, lavish nightlife and lounge rooms he could spend all night in drinking with his friends. That’s why it baffled him to sit somewhere like the place he’d gone to and feel so comfortable. It felt secretive, a mutual understanding of where one goes when they want to be alone and have a drink—no matter how bad it is. He wouldn’t have been able to do that around here without running into someone.

“Have you decided who your date will be?”

No, he had not. In fact it was the last thing on his mind and something Jungkook would prefer to fully ignore. It’s all he’s heard about for the past month and he doesn’t think he can go any longer talking about it. A date to a charity event hosted by his parents was too overwhelming of a task. They have to be polite, well maintenanced, proper, et cetera. He’s sure he can call up whatever woman he’d taken on a date these last couple of years but not a single one did he find… good enough? Terrible phrasing but the truth.

“Have you?” Jungkook asked one of his close friends, Hoseok, as the two sat in his office wasting time before they could be done for the day. His office sat on one of the top floors of a national banking center just a few minutes from where he resided. He sat behind his black oak wood desk spinning a pointed leather opener against his notepad creating a small dent in it.

“Obviously,” Hobi rolled his eyes playfully, making Jungkook look at him seriously. “Will she be as embarrassing as the one last time?”

“I hope not, last year’s date was a total mess. I couldn't look your parents in the eye for three months,” He said back, sitting down on the black leather daybed just a few feet away from Jungkook. The office was big with tall bookshelves and floor to ceiling windows overlooking skyscrapers and the Han River not too far behind. There was a desktop with two monitors along with a laptop and television, a closet and storage room—even a few dumbbells and a treadmill in the corner. “Do you know how hard that is when your father’s the CFO of the company I work for?!”

“I couldn’t imagine the difficulty of that,” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle knowing firsthand how his dad can be when he feels disrespected—especially in front of the press while hosting an important, annual event.

“I’ve got dinner with the girl tonight, she’s been telling me about this friend who’s been dying to meet you,” Hoseok said with raised brows, “She’s pretty hot.”

“Who? The girl or her friend?” Jungkook asked, typing away on his desktop, searching for the bar he’d visited the other night. There was very little overview about the place, but he didn’t expect much anyway. It looked like it brought a decent amount of business to get by but nothing more than that. You must’ve been local to the area or why would you be working there? Hell, for how little you seemed interested in him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. What was it that got his attention?

“Both,” Hoseok said in response.

Jungkook let out a small sigh watching the time pass by, “I’ll think about it.”

It was unlikely he ever would, he thought, attempting to focus back on his friend and who he was talking about. As arrogant as it might sound, there’s always someone dying to meet him. Usually it never works out and instead it’s used as a bragging right that they were taken out by him. He would like to meet someone organically, nothing forced or ingenuine. Someone he runs into and charms them without his reputation involved. How could he meet someone like that?

There was moisture lingering in the air as you left the small cafe you worked at during the week. It was midday and you wouldn’t have to be at work again till later tonight so the only thing on your mind was a good sleep.

You barely made it onto the bus when your phone began to ring and you put on your headphones to answer, “Hello?”

“Great, you’re alive. I was getting paranoid after the third ring,” Your friend said immediately once the call connected, “Are you off!”

“Yeah, until tonight,” You told her, staring out the foggy window of the overcrowded midday bus.

“Is Taehyung home? You want to come to mine instead?” Yeaun asked, sounding concerned but you just shook your head no even if she couldn’t see it.

“It’s alright, he’s not home anyway,” You said to her with a sigh, “I live there too and if he’s going to make a problem or it then maybe he should move out sooner.”

Yeaun was quiet for a moment, not sure if you were being serious or not. Or course it’s not the first time you and your ‘boyfriend—ex boyfriend—boyfriend’ break it off suddenly but this is different. You live with each other now and have for a few months. Why would Taehyung ask you to find a place with him if he was going to end it a few months into the lease? What an asshole.

“Alright, well I’ll talk to you later, maybe I’ll stop by the bar and catch up,” Yeaun finally said to which you mumbled back your response and ended the call.

You arrived at an empty apartment with a stack of blankets and pillows on the couch and a large bed with one person claiming it now. You tucked yourself into bed hoping that you ex boyfriend won’t be home when you wake up.

By the time the sun set and the only plan Jungkook had was to go home, he began to think about the place he visited a few days ago. There was nothing special about it but it was somewhat comforting—even with some of the elderly regulars getting on his case, he kind of liked it. It was amusing and harmless banter that he could put up with for some time alone. When he was off and his friend asked him to go out for dinner, Jungkook turned him down to drive across town on his own.

Like last time, the same people sat around the bar but a few new faces took up some of the tables scattered around. You stood behind the counter indulging in conversation with the bartender next to you and Jungkook found himself sitting at the corner of the bar top and away from the loudness.

“I see they didn’t scare you off,” You said once you spotted him alone. There’s not many new people coming by, especially ones that looked like him so he was easy to remember. He looked at you with rounded, curious eyes and shook his head, “Not yet.”

You asked if he wanted the same as last time and once he said yes, you were turning your back to him. He’s going to be honest… he couldn’t help but stare a little longer this time. You wore a short black skirt with dark stockings and a fitted tee making you seem casual and comfortable but at the same time he thought you were pretty. He couldn’t tell if you were into makeup or not but he assumed you’d be attractive either way. Last time you seemed glum, but tonight you were smiling.

“Am I that forgettable?” Jungkook asked when you made your way back to his side, he nodded toward the old man who bothered him last time and how he barely acknowledged him today. He wonders if he asked because he cared or because he wanted to have something to say. There was nothing better going on and unlike before, tonight he's up for talking—to you.

“No, he’s just a Drunk,” You whispered jokingly, moving just a little closer his way. To be honest, he nearly forgot all about you. The two of you had such a small interaction days ago that his life just got in the way. It felt meaningless and like it was never going to happen again but here he is, finding comfort at the little bar you worked at. He couldn’t help but be entertained by it.

“I asked my boss about the bottle you wanted last time and he said we can’t afford it for just one person, so you’re out of luck if you start stopping by more often,” You said casually, looking indifferent but he caught a glimmer of curiosity in your gaze.

“I’ll have to bring you some then,” Jungkook sat up straighter, “Give you a little taste.”

“I’m not into whiskey,” You gave him a small shrug, “I prefer the drinks where I can’t taste the alcohol.”

That made him laugh a little harder than he needed to, “Y/n, right? I think I remember hearing one of them say it.”

Your only form of response was a nod of your head but he didn’t mind the lack of enthusiasm. There’s something about the way you seem reserved but not scared to talk back to him sort of draws him in. You looked at each other with the same intensity and he wanted to see how long it could go.

“Y/n.”

You rushed away from him finding whoever needed help and he thought of what to say.

“So how many nights do you spend working here?” He asked once you came by him again. So far both nights he stumbled into this place you’ve been behind the counter with a blasè look to your eyes. It was a shame considering how pretty you were for you to be stuck behind a counter getting stressed over who knows what.

“Practically all of them,” You sighed leaning against the counter.

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t care for meaningless conversation ike this. It was such a waste of time and he always found himself struggling for what to say.

“So what happened the other night?” He blurted out before he could think clearly. He blames it on the whiskey for sounding so blunt as it rushed to his face. You couldn’t read him as easily as he thought and tried to figure out what he was asking about. The other night?

Oh.

“Nothing too concerning,” You brushed off your breakup with Taehyung hoping he knew nothing. The situation with Taehyung was not someone you wanted everyone to know about—especially not a stranger. It was embarrassing to admit you were still living with your cheating on and off ex boyfriend because it’s better than sleeping outside.

“And here I was hoping for a story time,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, checking his phone and the dozen messages and missed calls. Like earlier, you left him to help someone else and this time instead of him trying to find something to say it was you.

“If you start visiting more regularly maybe I’ll fill you in,” You said half-heartedly.

You’ve always thought—hoped—that home is where the heart would be. You should live in a place that doesn’t give you anxiety or depression. Living in this apartment with your ex boyfriends gives you both. When he was home you’d avoid leaving your bedroom at all and when he’s gone you’re worried about the time he’d get home.

You weren’t scared of him, but you hated him.

The two of you have broken up so many times at this point it’s embarrassing to admit how he has you now. After cheating on you and treating you like shit, you still moved in with him just those few months ago and now you’re paying for it.

“Are you going to work?” He asked curiously as you came out of your now solo bedroom. Taehyung was gentleman enough to sleep on the couch but apparently not enough to keep it in his pants.

“No,” You answered shortly as you slipped your shoes on. For some reason he thinks you’ll forgive him soon. He’s been trying to talk to you about it since the morning after he bothered you at work but you weren’t listening. How could he do something on impulse and expect you to let it go?

Are all men this stupid? Most? Oh, definitely, but surely not all? Who would want to be on good terms with a cheating ex so recent after the breakup?

“What are you gonna do then?”

What he really meant was, “Where were you going and who with?”

“Nothing,” you closed the door after yourself, choosing to shut him out rather than tell him anything. He didn’t need to know your whereabouts. For once you weren’t going to be at work and although you didn’t have big plans for your free night, you weren’t going to tell him or worse—spend it locked up in your room that still had his belongings.

You settled into place at your best friend’s place, filling her in on what’s been exciting or lack thereof.

“Not to feed the delusions but what if he’s stopping to see you?” Yeaun asked as you sat on her couch watching her look through her vinyls for something to play. After a while of telling her boringly endless tales of your life you came to the topic you were currently discussing.

Jeon Jungkook—the irregular-regular who’s begun to frequent the bar lately. Jungkook has been coming by for a few weeks now and although they’re always small interactions with him they leave an impression on you. He’s not like the usual guys who go there for a drink—or anything like the ones when you go out with your friends. Every now and then you wonder if he’s catching a flirty tone with you or not but then you think harder and tell yourself; not likely.

It’s too unbelievable,” You rejected the idea immediately even if it hurt you to do so, you had to be realistic, “He probably has a girlfriend or wife or someone, I don’t know.”

Call it a crush, whatever, nothing would ever come of it and you told your friends the same, “Either way I’m done with men, they’re all shitty.”

Yeaun shrugged, no longer pushing the idea of Jungkook. You haven’t told her anything that made it seem like Jungkook had any interest in you at all so really she was just wishfully thinking. You know very little about the man aside from what the two of you have gone over but it’s enough for you to know it would never happen.

You’re not crazy enough to believe otherwise.

Jungkook spent most of his day dreading for him to leave work and get ready for a dinner plan that was arranged for him. In all honesty, he practically disassociated himself from it the second he heard the tone the woman spoke in. Why did he let Hoseok talk him into doing this?

For nearly an hour he’s had to hear this woman compliment him on everything under the sun. Sure he was flattered but so? Did he really need to hear about himself from someone else? She didn’t seem like a bad girl but she knew too much about him that he never told her. She was too in his space and not understanding to slow down.

“I’m happy our schedules aligned to be able to meet like this,” She said as she picked at her salad, “I know you’re very busy.”

“I’m pleased too,” Jungkook raised his glass of wine to his lips, searching around the restaurant for a clock. Jiwon was a sweet girl but he wasn’t interested for some reason. She was attractive like Hoseok said but he’s not sure what is but there’s something that seems to draw him away from her.

By the time the bill came and she pretended to look through her mini bag for her wallet, Jungkook was ready to call it a night. He never expected someone with him to pay but something just drew him back… seriously what was it? She waited outside with him in hopes of knowing if their night would continue from here or not but Jungkook couldn’t wait to be done. He probably seemed rude with how he brushed her off and directed her into a cab, paying her fare with a lie that he’d see her again, but he couldn’t think of that right now.

It was taxing to meet new people and try to feel anything romantic toward them. Jimin is looking out for Jungkook and he’s well aware of that but Jungkook does not want something forced. He’s not asking for birds chirping and bells chiming but give him something that’ll make him feel things.

When he was alone in his car he found himself taking a familiar route in the opposite direction of his house. He’d left his date with Jiwon and for some reason was heading toward the bar he’s been going to lately. It took him a while to realize where he was going and about a block away he stopped to think.

What was he doing here? He could find any shitty bar where he knew his friends would never go and be just fine. He could be out with his friends or maybe getting to know Jiwon more in hopes of something blooming but instead he was going out alone. It was a bad idea to make this a regular thing. People he knows will begin to question where he goes and invade his privacy, he just knows it.

With a deep sigh he turned the engine off looking up at the brightly lit building in front of him. It was a small convenience store and deciding to not make his drive all the way over here pointless, he went inside.

He is starting to believe the universe in playing a trick on him. Whenever he’s gone to the bar you’ve been working at and tonight he decided not to go… bummed that he wouldn’t see you but clearly the universe had plans that couldn’t get changed. Instead of serving two drinks to customers, you’re walking down a refrigerated section of cheap flower bouquets. It’s like he was going to run into you tonight one way or the other. Just because he wasn’t going the bar after all didn’t mean he could escape you as easily. It was crazy.

You hadn’t yet spotted him as you opened the door to grab one of the cheapest bouquet of orchids you could find. It wasn’t until you were ready to walk back down that you saw him looking a little too interested in the small pints of ice cream. There were two options you could do, One: pretend you don’t know him and head to the counter or Two: acknowledge him? What if he was the kind of person that didn’t like being approached? It would be embarrassing for you.

“No work tonight?”

You stopped in your tracks, ready to walk past him when he spoke up. You looked around shyly, “Not tonight, Is that where you’re headed now?”

“Originally yeah, but good thing I changed my mind. You wouldn’t have been there,” Jungkook said, glancing down at the small shopping basket in your hands. He missed the way your face flushed at the comment, unsure if he meant it flirtatiously or not.

You had the small orchids, a couple ramens and drinks in the basket that made him smile just a little, “I’m assuming you live around here?”

“I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t,” You say lightly, a smile playing on your face when you saw his, and glanced down at your basket with embarrassment. All Jungkook had in his hand was a single bottle of wine that he grabbed so he wouldn’t look strange approaching you, “Do you live around here too?”

“No, I uh, I’m kind of far actually,” He scratched the back of his head nervously, “But, I was doing some work over here.”

His face tensed at the way he must have sounded lying to you. It wouldn’t have been a good look for him if he said he went on a blind date with someone his best friend set him up with but raced here right after. It feels like the conversation shouldn’t end yet but he doesn’t know how to make it go on. Usually he’s able to tell what he should say to get someone’s attention on him for longer but he doesn’t know with you.

After a while, you began walking toward the register with Jungkook not far behind and you tried to act normal when you set your things down to be checked out.

Please, don’t decline, you thought as you tapped your card to pay. When you were done and hesitating to leave or not, Jungkook spoke up again, “When do you work next?”

“Why? So you’ll visit me?” You asked him with a little more enthusiasm. Maybe you were overthinking it but was there a chance that he wanted to talk to you too? It felt like he asked you something so you wouldn’t rush off before he was done paying.

He smiled, pleased to have you respond the way he wanted and he grabbed his things off the counter and turned to walk with you. You held your bag in one hand and your cellphone and wallet in the other and it was hard to miss the way your screen lit up with a phone call. You ignored the ringing but Jungkook was distracted now, “Do you need to take that?”

He held the door open for you wondering if it was your boyfriend or not and if he was just wasting his time. You shook your head, “It's no one important.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” Jungkook found himself asking, too impatient to beat around the bush any longer, “Or would you like to see me this weekend—or when you’re free— over drinks?”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, staring up at the handsome man in front of you with a baited breath. Jungkook was attractive, very attractive but did you need to be seeing anyone right now? Sure, it’s been a couple weeks since you and Taehyung fell off but you still live together. If he found out he would lose his shit… but at the same time…

Jungkook was intriguing and charming and so attractive you couldn’t wrap your mind around anything else.

“I’m free this upcoming Sunday.”

Before you split ways, you made sure to exchange information and you were practically rushing to tell your best friend.

jungkook: next time we should have stuck around and talked longer

When Sunday evening rolled in, Jungkook wore one of his black Prada shirts and black jeans. He tried dressing casual but this was as casual as he could go for seeing you out on a night like this.

“I could meet you halfway,” Jungkook insisted on the phone as he stood outside your building. It was a rundown apartment complex just like all the others in the area and even he felt unsafe, he can’t imagine how you feel every night. Okay, maybe he’s not used to anything outside of the private, gated community he grew up with.

“It’s fine, I’ll be down in a second,” You practically whispered as you hurried to hang up. With a final spritz of perfume, you left your bedroom as quiet as possible but it was no use. Taehyung sat there watching you.

“I’ll be back late so don’t wait up,” You practically grumbled as you went to put on your heels.

“Since when do you dress like that?” Taehyung asked with a slight scoff. Unlike your usual attire of baggy pants, sweaters, tees and the occasional skirt, tonight you wore a short, satin pink dress with heels to match. You looked pretty and it annoyed him because he knew why.

“Since I stopped being with you,” You told him, fishing for your key before closing the door on him like last time.

It took a lot of convincing on Jungkook’s part to let you let him pick you up and you had many reasons why. One, you didn’t want him to run into Taehyung or feel awkward. Two, you didn’t want him to drive all the way here if you’d most likely be in the inner city which was on the other side of town. And three, you were slightly embarrassed at your housing complex. You’ve seen Jungkook’s dress attire and the expensive watches, chains, drinking preferences he wears. He’s got money while you’ve got two jobs still struggling to pay your half of the rent on top of all the debt tied to your name.

“Well don’t you look stunning,” Jungkook said with a nervous chuckle as you approached him, eyeing his all black Porsche and how perfectly it matched him. The silk of your dress felt soft against his touch when you hugged him politely in greeting. You were slightly flushed by his comment and let him lead you to the passenger’s side.

“Were you waiting long?” You asked when he got into the driver’s side, looking you over one more time before starting the car.

“A l-little,” Jungkook couldn’t help but feel flustered as you turned your body enough to look at him better. Your dress rode up on your thigh and he tried to focus on the road, “But it’s my fault for being impatient. Next time I’ll give you all the time in the world if I get to see this pretty view.”

To be clear Jungkook has always thought you were attractive but this was different. This wasn’t just him finding the bartender serving him drinks hot or the woman at the convenience store pretty. This was you dressing up for him in a pretty color while sitting pretty in his car and looking at him with your pretty eyes.

“Next time?” You laughed softly, sitting upright and trying not to seem affected, “Don’t make promises just yet. You might not be able to keep them.”

“I always keep my promises,” Jungkook said, diving over the small bridge that separated your neighborhood from the rest of the city.

You went quiet after that, looking out the window curiously. Usually you stick to your area, the bus fare to go shopping downtown or eat at a fancy restaurant wouldn’t be too bad but the time. On the bus it would be at least an hour long drive full of stops everywhere in between and you didn’t have the time to make it a round day trip. It was nice seeing all the city lights when most of your neighborhood is dark aside from the occasional street lamp.

You were pleasantly surprised when he pulled the car in front of a large building and a valet came to the doors, directing you both out of the car. Jungkook instructed the valet on something you didn’t care to hear as you looked around. It was obviously a hotel but with a large restaurant inside.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, suddenly at your side with a soft hand on your waist and you let him lead you in.

You felt oddly out of place when you looked around at everyone else but Jungkook didn’t seem to care. He was significantly underdressed but that didn’t stop him from pulling attention without meaning to and it made you slightly more comfortable. The restaurant sat on the top floor of a large hotel with a beautiful view of the city and amazing interior as well, “Do you like this place?”

“I have never been here before,” Jungkook admitted as he helped pull your chair, “I’ll give you an answer after dinner.”

“You’ll decide once you’ve gotten food?” You asked playfully but he just shook his head. “I’ll decide when you do.”

You weren’t sure how to respond but something about the way he looked at you told you he was being serious. Has he always been this forward? You didn’t think so. Usually he asked you a couple things and that was it. Or maybe you didn’t think there was any more to it. Sure, sometimes you’d catch him looking from across the bar but you always assumed he just needed something. When he asked you out the other night you assumed it was on a whim but now you’re not so sure.

It was far from a problem but you weren’t sure how to take it. Something tells you Jungkook comes from a different world than you do. When the server came you ordered a drink and tried to focus on the menu. All the prices were high and you couldn’t find anything in your normal price range. There were a lot of good options but what were you willing to choose?

“So, when you think of an ideal type, who comes to mind?” Jungkook asked, picking around his plate. The two of you had talked about practically everything you could on a first date. He was a couple years older than you, worked at a banking firm, lived in the upper east luxury apartments, studied abroad, et cetera. He learned that you have two jobs and dropped out of school because it was too expensive and honestly…you thought you lost him then. You thought he was unimpressed and no longer interested judging by the look of disappointment in his face but then he asks you what your ideal type is?

“Hm, I don’t know,” You started awkwardly, feeling his gaze shift toward you and looked you in the eye waiting, “Well I would want someone honest… and loyal bu—“

You stopped yourself feeling embarrassment edge on, it was ironic of you to say that was your type when clearly the past men you’ve been with have been anything but. A light scoff left your lips as you laughed a little, “I don’t know.”

“That’s it? Shouldn’t that be expected?” Jungkook asked. He was very loyal to his partners in the past but those relationships have long since been over and hold no meaning to him. He didn’t even think he wanted to date—considering how bored he was when the Jimin set him on—but here he was having the time of life trying to get to know you.

“Alright, well what about you? Maybe I need an example answer,” You joked, trying to shift the attention off you but Jungkook didn’t hesitate.

“I want someone I can relax around?” Jungkook was honest, “Someone I want to introduce to people close to me and someone that makes me think about them all day.”

“How do you decide who that person is?” You asked, moving your hair off your shoulder as you ate.

Jungkook smiled, “I don’t know. I just feel it.”

You talked about random things here and there. He explained what exactly he did at the banking firm and you told him your aspirations to be a hair stylist when you were younger. He asked why you never pursued it and you told him financial issues which made the conversation slightly awkward but it never ended.

By the time you finished and Jungkook footed the rather expensive bill, you rode down the elevator peacefully and walked out the building. Once the valet brought the car back around, you were less nervous to be riding in it than earlier and sat comfortably.

“I hope you don’t mind but I got you something,” Jungkook said once he was seated, “I wanted to wait till after dinner and then I forgot it.”

He reached under his seat where he had placed a small box earlier. You sat beside him watching him feel around for it, “Oh you didn’t have to—“

“I wanted to,” Jungkook said, placing a small box on your lap as he drove onto the street, “Think of it as a thank you for coming out with me tonight.”

“It’s nice but… isn’t it too much?” You swallowed dryly, looking at the simple Cartier bracelet, scared to even touch it, “I don't know what to say, thank you?”

“Don’t think about it, I just… I liked it and I wanted to gift you something,” Jungkook said honestly. He liked giving gifts and yesterday he was shopping for a new watch with Jin and he ended up finding the bracelet instead. For some reason he thought of you and before he could stop himself he bought it. It was one of the simple ones, not that expensive at all so he hopes you don’t think he’s stingy with money or anything. He’ll get you something better the next time you see each other. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Do you need help getting it on?”

You nodded shyly, unsure if you should take the gift but would it be rude to turn it down? What did he expect you to do after? You don’t mean to compare but Taehyung would never give you something like this. The most he spent on you is when he helped you get a new flatscreen but even then he only paid for half of it. When the car stopped at a red light, he quickly shifted in his seat to reach you better. With a hand around your wrist he pulled you forward as he helped you with the clasp. He was quite particular with how it looked on you and made sure the pearl motif sat at the center of your wrist.

It didn’t go unnoticed how he held your hand now as the light turned green. You didn’t pull back and let his thumb graze over your soft knuckles, “Pretty.”

Confusion rendered you silent on the ride back. It’s not that you were ungrateful but you were skeptical. You’ve never met let alone gone out with a man like him and you had no idea what to make of this gift. Was he seriously giving it to you or did you have to do something to earn it? Was he interested in you or just bored? Would a man like him just give someone a thousand dollar bracelet for no reason?

“You can just park right here,” You mumbled quietly as you pointed to a spot in front of your building. He opened your door for you and looked up at the building. Earlier he missed how the street lamp flickered giving everything a ghostly shadow. You let him walk you up feeling slightly embarrassed by the appearance of the staircase and hall but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks for everything, seriously,” You said as you stood at your front door. At some point his hand had found its way to yours again and was softly running his thumb against your knuckles, “Are you sure about the gift?”

“I don’t accept gifts back,” Jungkook laughed softly, “Besides, it looks better on you than it would me. I’m showing my gratitude for having you out tonight. I enjoy your company.”

“Good, I like talking to you too,” you smiled warmly and he couldn’t help but mirror it.

“So when can we go out again? What’s your schedule like this week?” Jungkook asked hopefully.

“So you’ll visit me or take me out?” You asked playfully, more forward than earlier and his smile grew.

“Both, perhaps?” He asked.

Now, you don’t usually do anything on the first date. There was a big ‘If’ about the possibly of going out with the person again but Jungkook has been better than you could’ve imagined. It doesn’t make sense why he’s single and interested in you of all people.

Before you could think of what to do, he was moving closer. His touch was soft but there was no denying the way his hand wandered up to your waist, pulling you into him gently. You wrapped an arm around his neck before you could overthink it and leaned onto your tiptoes. Jungkook smiled, his other hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up. His lips brushed against yours teasingly, taking a moment before pressing them together in a first kiss.

You both were nervous at first but it was like something inside you came to life and you kissed him with more intent. Jungkook welcomed it, smiling a little into the kiss as he pulled back to catch his breath.

“I should go inside,” You giggled softly, turning away feeling flustered.

A small sigh left his lips, holding you close to him, “I’ll call you.”

It took less than a week for Jungkook to reveal to his close friends who the mysterious person he’s been seeing was. He was not trying to keep you a secret at all but there was only so much he wanted to say to them all and it was the basics. You were a just nice girl he’s met and went on a date with, but even that was enough for all the interrogations to arise.

“So how far did you guys go?” Hoseok and his hyper sexual mind felt the need to ask, “Or were you a true gentleman and settled for a hug?”

“We kissed,” Jungkook said, licking his lips at the memory, dealing his own cards for their next round of poker, “I’m taking it slow as of now.”

“Why’s that? The gala is not too far, shouldn’t you be focused on who is attending with you?” Namjoon asked, ashing his cigarette in the tray to the left of him. Jungkook ignored half of what his friend said as he readied to play.

“Y/n seems very different from me and I just don’t want to scare her off just yet,” Jungkook said honestly, thinking back to your reaction when he gave you the bracelet. He, of course, never assumed you came from much money especially considering he knew where you worked and lived but it wasn’t a problem to him. He was more worried if you’d manage in his life with the people he’s close to. It’s something he often wonders when the possibility of a relationship comes to mind but usually this is weeks into dating. The two of you have barely gone on one date and for some reason he’s already envisioning the future and what it could look like.

“Holy shit, that’s like a thousand bucks,” Yeaun looked over the bracelet, “And he just gave it to you? Where can I find a guy like that?”

“I guess,” You said, shifting your eyes to Yoongi as if he had the answers. The two of you stood behind the bar while Yeaun sat at the counter. It was early in the evening and you’ve been since 2:00pm and ready for your shift to end. Your friend’s been here ‘studying’ for over an hour but she’s been too distracted listening to your date stories. The bar was empty aside from a couple stragglers who got off work early but nothing crazy and it put you at ease.

“Does he know about Taehyung?” Yoongi asked curiously.

“No, it was a first date. I didn't think I had to dish out all my problems so soon and scare him off,” You joked as you looked down at the bracelet, “Besides, who knows how long this will last.”

“Have you talked since then?” Yeaun asked, leaning against the counter with interest.

“A little, yeah. He works at a bank so he’s got long hours at the office so I don’t really expect him to reach out to me much,” You told them honestly, “And who knows, it might’ve just been a one time thing.”

You shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal but part of you wondered if he’d reach out for another date or not. He said he would but who knows. People make promises all the time.

“Ugh, but he sounds like a dream—a dream with money,” Yeaun pretended to swoon as she gathered her things and stuffed them into her book bag, “Alright, I’ve gotta go home and study, keep me updated though. Bye guys.”

You waved her off and turned to Yoongi as he polished some glasses. He gave you a small sigh, “I like the guy, he always tips well.”

As your shift came to an end and you left Yoongi to deal with the night people, you got on the bus to take your usual route home.

jungkook: will you be working tonight?

you: I just got off actually

jungkook: I wanted to see you :(

You read the message at least three times unable to think of a response.

jungkook: have you eaten? shall we get dinner?

Just as you hurried to type, your phone began to ring and a smile came to his face, “You really are impatient, giving me no time to answer.”

Jungkook smiled as he drove over the familiar bridge that closed the gap between you, “Sorry, I’m not used to waiting. What are you doing then?”

“I’m on the bus, a couple stops away from home,” You told him looking at the passing buildings and the way the sun had fully set now, “What time do you want to meet for dinner?”

“Now?” Jungkook asked, “I’m not too far from your place, I’ll wait—or better yet what’s the next stop and I’ll meet you.”

Jungkook’s Porsche looked strange parking at The bus stop waiting for you and you felt slightly embarrassed by your appearance. Compared to last time you were nowhere near as out together and it was clearly evident you’ve just gotten off work. Jungkook was in his office attire but he still managed to look good.

“If you had given me a little more time I would’ve gotten dressed up for you,” You said light heartedly as he greeted you with a hug and kiss on your cheek.

“But I like seeing you like this too, reminds me of that black skirt you wore the first night I met you,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, “So where’s the restaurant you were talking about?”

Something has begun to really sprout between the two of you. Part of it still feels superficial to an extent but that’s how it’s supposed to feel. You’re not supposed to jump into anything so fast…

Yes, you’ve been meeting up a lot more regularly but you still keep each other at a distance. When you meet it’s usually out and tonight Jungkook wanted to be somewhere comfortable with you. He understood you got off work at the bar late and the last thing you wanted to do was go out so he opted for another way he could see you.

“Can I come over instead?” He asked as he sat at the bar one night. It was late, Yoongi had shut the music off and the lights turned on giving everyone a hint that it was closing time. Jungkook had arrived a couple hours before midnight to keep you company. Now that you’re closing he knows there’s a chance the night would come to an end soon and it’s the last thing he wanted. He had a stressful day at work that involved a meeting with the CFO—his father, about some reports. It spiraled into a conversation about the gala and who he thinks Jungkook should go with.

He had wanted to tell his father then that he wasn’t interested in being set up on a date because he had you but he struggled saying it. He doesn’t know where the two of you stand but he wants to figure it out. Jungkook watched you wipe the counters as Yoongi counted registers and he even helped wipe down a few chairs for you as he waited for a response. If the people at the office or his friends saw him cleaning up after strangers they’d laugh in surprise. He wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty and that’s exactly what he’s doing just to be with you.

Usually you always changed the subject when he asked, or hinted at him to go somewhere else instead but it was so late nothing would be open. Taehyung would be asleep if he was home but that was very unlikely. It was the weekend and he was most likely with his friends getting drunk somewhere and looking for an after party. There’s a chance he wouldn’t come home at all so what excuse did you have to turn Jungkook down?

In the end, you gave in and once the bar was closed, Jungkook drove straight to your apartment. He climbed up the familiar stairs, walked down the familiar aisle and stood behind you as you unlocked the door, warning him about a possible mess. Now, you weren’t cruel. Jungkook wasn’t walking in completely blindsided by the idea that you had a roommate but you weren’t totally up front with him. He knew your roommate was a guy but he wasn’t so sure about the relationship between you two.

Taehyung was half-asleep on the couch and Jungkook looked at him with furrowed brows as he followed into your room. You sighed, “Sorry, my roommate’s here.”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said with a shrug as he began to unbutton the cuff of his shirt so he could roll the sleeves up, “How do you know him again?”

He wanted to ask more but he had to be patient.

“Do you want me to be honest?” You asked nervously but he nodded his head and waited.

“He’s my ex boyfriend. There’s still over six months on our lease but we’ve been broken up for… I think as long as I’ve known you now. We’re stuck living together until the lease is up,” You confessed in a single breath, “He sleeps on the couch now.”

“Your ex boyfriend?” Jungkook looked at the closed door, imagining the man who slept on the other side of it and his chest tightened. Why didn’t he just move out or why didn’t you? Was it a money issue, no one to let you crash out their place?

“Yeah but don’t worry, we don’t talk at all,” You tried to reassure him but you could tell he was too busy in his head, “What are you thinking?”

“Is this you?” He asked, holding up a picture frame in hands and staring at who appeared to be you but years younger. A small smile played on his lips that made you feel flustered as you took the frame from him, “Yes, don’t look at it. I was in a phase.”

“I can tell,” he joked playfully, looking around for something new to take his attention. Admittedly your place was small and it seemed like you had everything that expressed you shoved into your small bedroom. He understood you lived with someone else but is that what it’s like? What in this room belonged to Taehyung? You once shared it so there had to be something and that didn’t sit right with him. He had no need to get jealous but it made his throat dry to think about.

“What? You didn’t have something you were obsessed with growing up?” You asked, sitting against your row of pillows as he took a seat on your armchair. There was a vase of orchids on your vanity and books surrounding him as he stayed back.

“I was hyper fixated on water polo as a kid,” He confessed randomly, “But then there was an accident with my horse and I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Wait, that’s kind of sad,” You sat straighter, “But water polo?”

“Yeah, I switched to rowing and tennis when I was in college,” Jungkook said, and you looked at him curiously. Even in his business attire you can tell he had a lean, muscular body and you couldn’t help but stare. With an awkward clear of your throat you looked away, “Would you like a drink?”

“I can’t, I have to make it home tonight,” Jungkook said with a sigh as he stared out the window to his side. It was late and he wanted to spend more alone time with you but he probably couldn’t.

“Already?” You asked patting the left side of your bed as if calling for him. He looked between you and the spot, heart beating fast and he thought about it.

“Oh, if you insist,” He watched the way you rolled your eyes playfully, and laid back in your bed a little more, “You know, for some reason I’m comfortable around you even though we still don’t know each other that well. I think you did something to me.”

“Like?” You asked with a hint of amusement.

“You’re easy to talk to and I’m not used to that,” Jungkook said, noticing the distance between you getting smaller, shoulders nearly brushing against each other, legs angled in and your hand right in his reach. He took it shyly, looking over the bracelet he gave you last time.

Jungkook was being honest now. He doesn’t understand how or why but once he met you, he felt good.

“You like me that much?” You smiled teasingly and he couldn’t help but smile too. In the beginning he always took you to be indifferent. You didn’t pay more attention to him than you needed to and clearly you had things going on in your life that stressed you out.

When you began talking to him he finally got a hint of interest in your part but he found you hard to read—he still does. You smile more often now and joke around, go out with him, but want more. If you’re closed off because of the relationship with the guy who slept outside the bedroom then he really can’t stand him.

“I do,” Jungkook smiled harder, leaning into you, “And I’ve been thinking about kissing you again.”

Alone in your bedroom with a guy who’s nice and handsome and charming and… overall dreamy made things hard to resist. You kissed him shyly, lips pressed against his and he felt himself sink into your bed even further. His hands found the belt loops of your jeans and he hooked a finger using it to pull on top of him. You both were still dressed in your work clothes but neither of you seemed to care.

He hugged your hips, soft lips hungry for more of your touch and his mind went blank. Your hands cupped his face and you didn’t shy away from his wandering hands that snuck under your plain black tee and felt along your spine. With your body pressed to his, you rolled onto your back with him following after you, never wanting to break apart.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, kissing heavily and hands roaming but never straying too far. He didn’t push you for more even when you felt the way you affected him. Instead he kept the pace mutual, made you feel good and cared for.

By the time your lips were too swollen and sore, you had to pull back. His breathing was heavy and his hair was a mess of tousled black hair. He looked more of a wreck than you did and you couldn’t help but laugh softly trying to fix the collar of his white button up.

“I’ve got a meeting in a few hours,” Jungkook mumbled against your skin as he checked the time on his watch. It was way past midnight and he had to be ready by 7:00am. The drive home was nearly a half hour and he hadn’t prepared himself that well. As much as he wants to stay in your bed he knew he had to go.

You whined softly, hugging him closer before easing off. You let him stand up and he tucked the part of his shirt that had slipped out and attempted to fix his hair. There was an obvious bulge in his slacks that he tried to ignore even when you looked so inviting. It would be so easy for him to fall back into bed and keep going but he had to be responsible. Sadly, responsibility came in the form of having self control and remembering he’s got work tomorrow.

“I’ll walk you out,” You said with a small sigh. It was late and you had to be up early for the morning shift so it was right to end things. You needed to get out of your jeans and into bed. The two of you left your room quietly. His hand was on your waist, following you blindly out with his shoes in his hands and a calm smile.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Jungkook whispered his promise as you unlocked the front door. He stood in the brightly lit hallway now. The goodbye was sweet and he found himself lingering behind when you shut the door. He couldn’t make out the full conversation but your ex didn’t seem to have been sleeping at all.

“Who was that?” Taehyung asked, sounding tired or irritated. He was laying down but with the light from the hall shining in you can make out the shape of his open eyes.

“A friend,” You said blandly.

“Can you do me a favor and keep your friends out of here?” Taehyung asked bitterly, “It’s my apartment too. I’ve already given you the room, the least you can do is respect me enough to not bring guys over on my bed.”

He stood alone in his office, trying to take a break from the busy day he’s had. Back to back meetings, lunch with his father, endless paperwork, hearing Hoseok scold him about not going further with you, etc., he needed a break. His phone sat on his desk and it was taking everything inside him not to call you. He’s tried distracting himself with the view outside his windows but it wasn’t working.

“I’m just saying, what’s taking you so long? If you actually liked this girl wouldn’t you have gone for it?” Hoseok asked with a shrug of his shoulders, “She’s got you whipped and you haven’t even done anything, that’s crazy.”

“It’s not even like that, Y/n’s just…” Jungkook looked nervous like when he had a school crush and would get teased about it, “I wanted to—she lives with her ex.”

“Red flag,” Jimin chimed in from his corner of Jungkook’s office, “Why?”

“Because she still lives with her ex, obviously. There’s still something there or else she would’ve moved out by now don’t you think?” Jimin explained making Jungkook run his fingers through his hair anxiously.

“Maybe money’s tight. Y/n said their lease still has another six months,” Jungkook bit his lip.

“Help her pay to end it then, duh,” Hoseok said with a shrug, knowing money wasn’t a problem for him or his friends, “Free her from the shackles of past relationships.”

This time Jungkook didn’t say anything because he was too busy thinking about it. He could help you pay it off, maybe even find you a new place but would you want him to? You always seem so tired after working both jobs and although he hasn’t made it official, he doesn’t like seeing the person he’s dating stressed all the time. He could easily take the weight off your shoulders if you let him.

“Isn’t Jungkook’s problem that he hates dating women after his money? Why are you volunteering him to pay for some random girl’s rent?” Hoseok asked with a scoff, “The girl I set you up with would never, FYI.”

He rolled his eyes, sinking back into his chair, “I don’t care about that girl. I care about Y/n.”

“So make it official, offer her help, and take her to the gala. Boom!” Jimin clapped like he solved world hunger.

He was going to, he planned to at least, he was just thinking of how to do it. It should be something simple but for some reason he’s nervous to do it. Everyone has already been nagging him about his personal life and as much as he’d like to keep you to himself, part of him also wants to show you off. You’re not what he expected

When he was alone in his office, he spent his time thinking about what you could be doing right now and how badly he wanted to see you. All you’ve done is make out and he wants to do more but he’s also happy about the pace you’re taking things. It seems right. He’s not jumping to get into your pants and you’re not running to his pockets. He respects you and finds you too stunning to let go even if you lead different lives.

After work, he headed right to where he’d find you and you were talking with some college guys who ordered shots at the bar. They were in some university jackets and seemed perfectly content taking up your time.

“Are those for me?” Yoongi asked, stepping out from the walk-in fridge of alcohol. He pointed at what Jungkook was holding and it seemed to catch your attention too, finally making you look over at him. Your eyes softened, standing up as he got to the bar.

He held a large bouquet of orchids, various types of the flower, some pink, some white, a little bit of both, a hint of yellow. They looked pretty and he held them out to you as he responded to Yoongi, “Sorry, hyung. Maybe next time.”

“I didn’t know you were stopping in tonight,” You said, taking the flowers graciously. Now that you’re sort of seeing each other he hasn’t been stopping regularly. Usually he sees you in your free time and occasionally if he goes to the bar but it’s usually at the end when not many people are left and you’re about to close.

“I meant to call but I forgot, forgive me?” He asked with a teasing smile, eyes glazed over as he watched you, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

You didn’t hesitate to step out with him, alone in front of your job, clutching the bouquet in your hands.

“So, I’ve been kind of pushing it off because I’m not sure what you’ll think, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and I can’t wait much longer to ask,” Jungkook started off with a nervous scoff, “And now that we’re out here and I’ve distracted you from work, it’s probably shitty timing but—“

“Jungkook,” You said, looking up at him, “What do you want to ask me?”

“Will you go out with me? I mean… I know we’ve gone on a few dates here and there but I don’t think to keep going with this without asking you for a relationship. I want to get to know you more and more and I don’t want to think about you possibly misreading my intentions and I just… really want to be your boyfriend,” Jungkook finished.

A smile spread on your lips as you leaned into him, one hand around his neck while the other held the bouquet from falling. His hands fell effortlessly on your waist, pulling you closer, feeling you nod your head against him, “Is this a yes?”

“Yes,” You kissed his cheek, “Orchids are my favorite also.”

“Really?” He asked feigning surprise, “I guess I was lucky picking them out.”

“Are you staying for a drink?” You asked pulling back despite his hold.

“I don’t think so, I’ve got another crazy day tomorrow and I’ve got some errands to run. Do you close tonight?” Jungkook asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You work too much?”

“I work too much?” You asked with a laugh, “You’re the one with back to back meetings.”

It was oddly endearing seeing the way he pouted despite his tough exterior. He wore a black suit and his hair was combed back, driving his usual Porsche but then pouting at you rather cutely and delivering you your favorite flowers.

“You’re right, I’ll take a few days off and spend all my time with you,” Jungkook said playfully, “If you think I’m clingy now just you wait.”

“Okay, okay,” You pushed against his chest lightly, “I have to get back inside before Yoongi kills me. Thank you for the flowers.”

“Mhm,” Jungkook bit his lip, keeping you close to him still as he refused to let go of your hand, “Can I get a kiss before you go?”

You sighed, pretending to find it bothersome but let him pull you back. You kissed him goodbye with a promise to call him when you get home and went inside as he drove off.

The flowers looked pretty in the clear cylinder vase you fit them into once you got home that night. You ignored it when Taehyung slammed the door and set the flowers on your vanity, smiling a little to yourself as you got ready for bed.

It took a week for him to officially ask you to be his date for the event of the year. He wanted to appreciate the tranquility he had with you at least a little before he brought you to everyone close to him. He didn’t want your opinion about him changing but he also wanted to show you off finally. In the end, he asked you over dinner and you had no reason to turn him down.

You didn’t fully understand what he was inviting you to and the gift he left for you one day only left you more confused.

“Just try it on, baby,” Jungkook urged you on as he busied himself in your bedroom while you stared at the box on your bed, “I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything better at the last minute but you’ll look beautiful either way.”

He already thought you looked pretty with how you styled your hair and makeup, you just needed a pretty bustier gown with orchids to match. It was a vintage Dolce & Gabbana dress that accentuates your figure nicely. Your neck looked plane but he fixed that with a few gold pieces and rushed you out the room. Taehyung wasn’t home—not that either of you cared if he was—but if you could avoid him the better. You didn’t need him looking at you some type of way and you’re sure Jungkook could go without it too.

“I could’ve found something to wear, you didn’t have to,” You tried to say but it was clear he wasn’t listening.

“I wanted to,” Jungkook fixed the cuffs of his suit, checking the time on his watch. “We’ll be late if we don’t get going now.”

When he first told you about the charity gala, you weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a few auctions, some guest speakers or small press but this was so much more than that. Hundreds of people filed into the large venue, chandeliers held high and disco balls spinning. Everyone wore suits and beautiful dresses who wore them more confidently than you did yours. There were performance acts happening all around you and a few people you’ve seen on television in attendance. Without meaning to, you leaned against Jungkook as he navigated through the seating and found your table.

“Look who’s finally decided to let us meet his girlfriend,” Someone said from the table as Jungkook searched around for his place card. Usually, he sat with his parents and his brother and his family but he started with his friends first. The others were busy speaking on stage and right now the guys seemed less intimidating.

“Y/n, this is Jimin, you’ll learn he never thinks before he speaks,” Jungkook joked, making you want to smile but unsure if you should.

“You clean up nicely for a waitress,” Someone else said and Jungkook looked up immediately. Hoseok was obviously joking—perhaps to impress the girl he’s been seeing and the one he set Jungkook up with for a date [who was surprisingly on Jin’s arm now]. One of the girls snickered, making your brows furrow.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Namjoon told him off, directing Jungkook to sit down, noticing how ready he was to speak up.

“You’re prettier than he said,” Namjoon told you with a polite smile. Jungkook’s hand rested on the back of your chair as he looked around for his parents before asking you, “Just ignore some of the stuff they say. I’ll handle it.”

“I’m not worried,” You admitted, sitting straighter as you looked at your name plaque on the dining set in front of you. He smiled down at you, “You are prettier than I first said.”

“So what’s it like busting tables, Y/n?” Some woman asked you and Jungkook turned, clearly annoyed. He couldn’t understand why Hoseok would bring the girl he went on a date with to the gala as Jin’s date instead. It didn’t make sense and once again his dear friend was bringing questionable guests.

“About as pleasant as your company,” You said with a smile, “Perhaps a bit more, I’d assume? I don’t know, I'm not a waitress.”

You were a bartender and a cashier, if this random woman is going to insult you could she at least be accurate? Either way, there’s nothing wrong with being in the service industry but judging by everyone around the table, they all look down it. You looked at Jungkook, in his designer suit, wearing the designer dress he bought you and feeling very obviously out of place.

“I’m gonna go to the washroom,” You whispered to him and concern flickered in his eyes. Your hand barely grazed his shoulder as you stood up and he placed his hand over it keeping you from leaving just yet.

“Everything okay?” He asked, not caring for anyone else at the table but you at the moment. You nodded with a gentle smile, “Yes, I’ll be right back.”

When you left the table it seemed like everyone was able to catch a proper breath, all looking at Jungkook as if he had something to say. He didn’t let you get too far out of his sight before he stood up too.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asked with an amused expression, “I want Y/n back, she’s cute.”

“I’m gonna find us better company,” Jungkook said as he looked at the women and Hoseok, “Sober company.”

“Come on man, we’re just messing around,” he said turning to Jin hoping for some help but Jin chose to stay out of it, “She’s great, honestly. Not what I expected.”

“Hobi,” one of the girls complained but Jungkook was taking his drink and leaving.

You tried to fix your appearance in the mirror but there wasn’t anything specific you could point to. There was just something that felt wrong and maybe it was being here at all. Maybe you’re moving too fast? You’ve already agreed to go out with him and you have strong feelings for him but if those are his friends… and these are the parties he attends… maybe you’re not cut out for it.

The women were flooded in designer and a sort of elegance you’re sure you didn’t possess and the others seemed just as luxurious. You work two jobs to keep a shitty roof over your head while you’re attending a ball in a dress worth more than what you make in a month. You might act like you’re not nervous but you’re anxious. It feels like you’re pretending to be comfortable. Do you deserve this sort of treatment from him? All he’s done since you met him is keep you company, shower you in gifts, listen you every word you said, and… brought you around those close to him but were you right for him?

He seemed too good for you.

“I was beginning to think you ran out on me,” Jungkook said with a chuckle as he watched you jump in surprise. He stood near the entrance to the washrooms and waited for you to come out for what felt like forever.

“You really are impatient,” You teased as he pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Is everyone still at the table?”

“Probably,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his and walking through the crowds, “But I’m sick of them, let’s do our own thing for now.”

Jungkook was as attentive as ever. He introduced you to anyone who came up to him and he looked genuinely happy to have you there by his side. You haven’t been seeing each other for long at all, but it feels right. At one point you reunited with his friends, except Jimin was off somewhere with Jin and the two girls. The rest welcomed you just fine and asked you questions about yourself. Sometimes Jungkook would say something about you that you had no idea he knew. Hoseok found it adorable how he spoke for you with a sense of pride or excitement. It was obvious to anyone who paid attention that Jungkook felt strongly for you and you for him. Although hesitant to let you in, you seemed to charm your way with his friends and it made him happy to see how well you fit in.

“Leaving already?” Namjoon asked when Jungkook made his rounds of farewell to everyone he knew.

“Yeah, we’re… tired,” Jungkook said but the smile on his face said otherwise, “And it’s late.”

“Hm,” Namjoon seemed amused as he looked down at the arm Jungkook had around your waist and how it ran along your hip, holding you close. The two of you looked like proper lovers on their honeymoon and he couldn’t help but laugh, knowing neither of you were close to tired—just ready to leave.

He smirked, “Have fun.”

“What did that mean?” You asked as Jungkook led you out but he just shrugged. Valet brought his car and you got in with him.

“Don’t know,” Jungkook said leaning over the middle consoled to kiss you, “Will you spend the night at my place?”

“I don’t have clothes,” You said, smiling at the way he seemed to deject, worrying at his bottom lip.

“I mean… we won’t really need tha—“

“Jungkook!” You hit his arm playfully, making him laugh. He drove to his place with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. He lived in a penthouse in the sky, at one of the most expensive apartments in the whole city. The entire ride up the elevator was filled with his rough hands holding you in his arms, telling you how beautiful you looked tonight.

“I can’t take too much credit,” You teased, arms around his neck as you went to the top floors, “You’re the one who picked out the dress.”

“It’s not about the dress,” Jungkook whispered, cupping your face in his hands, “It’s about the person wearing it.”

“And what about when I’m not wearing it?” You asked, stepping out of the elevator once it got to his floor. You walked ahead of him and he couldn’t help but look after you. Your hips swayed with each step, walking so effortlessly in a dress that accentuated your shape. It had his attention all night and he knew tonight was the night he’d have you. You were hard to resist but he was patient, he waited for the right timing to make sure what he felt was right and it was. He was so into you it was all he could think about.

“Y/n,” Jungkook called for you before you could skip too far from him. The two of you stood in the foyer now and he was taking your hand in his to keep you from wandering too far inside. His place was huge, the entrance alone had a level of class you didn’t expect. It was a two level penthouse with a grand staircase and pool on the balcony. Your heels created an echo that felt never endless and in the middle of the foyer was a rounded table with a small stack of mail and a large vase of orchids.

Now you feel bad always dragging him to your small bedroom in an apartment you shared with an ex boyfriend. It was something Jungkook never seemed bothered by—even when Taehyung would make a fuss about something—and that made you feel even more embarrassed.

You were too distracted to notice when he closed the space between you, hands on your waist as he pulled you against him.

“You’ve been handsy all night, y’know,” You teased him with a smile, turning in his arms to face him. He let his forehead lean against yours, and closed the space between your lips until you were kissing.

There was a hint of a smile into the kiss as he deepened it by dipping his head low, mouths moving in sync. Even with your heels, you couldn’t quite reach him and tried to lean upward.

Jungkook’s hands traced down your waist, falling to your hips and without pulling away, pulled you onto the table, sliding his mail to the floor. A light squeal left your lips, holding him tighter, “Jungkook.”

“I can’t help it,” He began to trail soft kisses down your neck, nibbling here and there to get a reaction out of you, “I’ve been good all the time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a cute and amused laugh that made him smile. One of the straps of your dress slipped down your shoulders and he hooked a finger into the thin fabric and pushed it back into spot. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to help you down from the table, not yet letting you go but walked toward the staircase “And I’ve got you all alone now. Nobody asking you for another round of drinks, or your… roommate, just you and I. I don’t think I can hold back any longer.”

With that being said, he guided you up the stairs taking you down a hallway toward the main bedroom. It was modern and dark with a wall of windows that overlooked the city lights. His bed was at the center with black sheets that he set you down and begins kissing you again.

Your hands ran down the front of his suit, pushed the jacket off and untucked it from his slacks. Every time you see him he’s dressed so nicely but you wanted to see what it looked like underneath. One time it had been late and last minute when he saw you and was dressed in a casual hoodie and sweats. You made out on your bed but never got far enough to take your clothes off. You know he’s muscular and lean but you needed to see it all.

Although your pace of undressing him was quick to your knowing, it wasn’t enough for him. He yanked at the buttons, pulling it off and your jaw nearly dropped.

"Tattoos?" You questioned with surprise, as he sat back on his haunches playing with the buckle of his belt. He unclipped the back of his silver watch, throwing it on the floor and pulled his belt fully out of the loops.

“Surprising?” He responded looking down at. Your dress was ruffled up around your waist and your legs looked smooth. You sat back on your hands to meet him halfway for another kiss and while his mouth was concentrated on yours and your tongues danced against each other, he slipped his hands down your back. Your dress had a lower back cut, barely held together by a ribbon that had been tempting him all night. How easy it would have been to undo it and kiss along your spine.

A soft gasp slipped past your lips and swallowed by his as he pushed the straps off your shoulder and let it pool around your breasts. He slipped it further down exposing more of yourself to him and he kissed down your neck. You were slowly fall back into his pillows with his mouth against your collarbone, guiding you to your back so he could take the dress off you.

He left wet kiss down your chest, hands tracing along your ribcage as you arched into him and your breasts fell and rose with each heavy breath you took. mouth left wet kisses down to your collarbone and between your breasts. You let out a sigh feeling his gentle touch and he cupped your soft mound, squeezing lightly before he brought his lips to your hardening bud.

“Is this good?” Jungkook asked almost shyly, tongue sneaking a touch on your nipple as his thumb swiped over it feeling it begin to stiffen. You could barely form words to respond when he repeated the actions a couple times.

"Jungko—ngh," you whined wriggling around a little for more. He looked up at you through a mess of hair and his teasing tongue flicked your nipple as his other hand groped the flesh of your left breast.

You touched along his back wanting to feel more of him pushing your breasts in his face and he drooled all over your boobs, sucking and licking your skin while you arched into him.

Once his tongue had grown sore, Jungkook moved along down your stomach pulling on it in hopes that he could get it off. With a small huff in annoyance, he sat back, looking down at your half naked body and tried to work out a way to take it off you. He raised your legs against his shoulders, sliding the flimsy fabric off and throwing it to the floor next to his shirt.

It didn’t go ignored the fact that you had been completely bare underneath, your pubic area exposed to him as you’ve gone all night with no panties and it was only now he realized.

“You had nothing under this entire time?” Jungkook asked, finally pulling his own pants down, not bothering to wait to get his briefs off and did them both at the same time. He barely gave you time to appreciate the veins leading down his V-line toward his hardened cock before he was leaning down to kiss you again, “If I would’ve known we would’ve never left your apartment.”

“Good thing I didn’t tell you then,” You said between gasps when he licked the shell of your ear, pressing his naked body against yours.

Tonight had been something he’s known for months and a yearly event that he needed to attend. If he had known and seriously kept you in bed you’re sure he would’ve heard an earful. You only chose to go bare so you wouldn’t get a panty line on the dress.

He must’ve liked your chest because he went back to your breasts hungrily latching onto a nipple again, choosing not to respond anymore as he got lost in your warmth.

Like earlier when he got the dress off, he hitched your right leg up until it was bent close to your stomach, exposing more of your wet pussy to his greedy eyes. Silky strings of arousal glazed over your folds making him run his tongue along his bottom lip. Jungkook was focused on your wet cunt, dragging a finger along the center where your juices puddled at your entrance. It was a wet, creamy sort of slick that coated his fingers and your clit.

You released a moan at stimulation, jaw going slack when Jungkook gripped your hips with his free hand and pressed you firmly to the bed. Making sure you wouldn’t squirm away, he dropped to his stomach, face between your lips as he went for a taste.

His lips were soft against your folds, eyes locked onto the sight of your puffy lips and let his tongue lick up the puddle of arousal. He practically sucked on it for a taste and left open mouth kisses on your cunt. You gripped the bed sheets tightly, legs threatening to shut but whenever you tried to squirm his head followed your movements.

Jungkook could barely breathe but it felt unnecessary as he nipped at your labia, sucking it into his mouth and letting your clit rut against the tip of his rounded nose. In all honesty, there was only one thing on his mind right now. He wanted to please you and make you feel good. He wanted to make you forget about any other guy and make you think of him and only him. His mouth closed over the stiffened clit suddenly and he began to lick and suck, feeling the outline of your slit get his chin wet like a dog lapping at water with thirst.

You had to be the sweetest thing to ever grace his tongue and it was making him lose his mind—aimlessly rutting his stiff cock against the bed.

Your head had fully tipped back, no longer paying attention to the pleasure he brought between your legs and sunk into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling moaning. Jungkook watched you succumb to what he gave you and he snaked a hand along your body, feeling the way your stomach caved in with deep breaths and settled a grip on your tits. His fingers were wet and he used the liquid to coat your nipples, rubbing them between fingers and quite literally tongue fucking you with your hips humping his face.

You were in ecstasy with his mouth slobbering all over your cunt. You couldn’t remember the last time you let someone touch you—pleasure you. It surely wasn’t with the ex you lived with. You stopped letting him in long before you broke up and even then he didn’t make you feel the way Jungkook did.

"Oh—" you moaned softly, hands in his

dark hair keeping him in place. He didn't say anything only guided you through an orgasm, feeling the way your legs shook and your breath hitched. Your clit twitched in his mouth and he tried to soothe the feeling with tender lips, tongue lapping at your release as you came down from your high.

Your eyes opened, looking right at the red tip of his cock, aching with need and pointing straight at you. He leaked with precum just from what he had done to you and he needed more. You tried to sit up on shaky legs, meeting him halfway for a messy tongue kiss, licking your arousal off his lips and some spit mixed into it. It was nasty but it made him grown with lust, especially when your hand snaked around his mushroom tip.

Jungkook dropped his forehead against your shoulder, staring down at your naked bodies and focusing on the hand you had on him. Your thumb was rubbing against the slit, smearing clear arousal around his head. His brows knitted together, a confused expression as you tried leaning back, managing to pull him into bed. It didn’t take long for him to get the hint and get on his back.

“Baby,” Jungkook tried to warn as you shifted to sit between his legs, leaning down to his stiff member. He was so close already and wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to handle before he had a chance to be inside you. A dry gasp left his lips as you went in without warning.

You flattened your tongue on the underside of his length, teasing a long lick from his base to the tip. Spit pooled in your mouth that you let drool out of your mouth and cover his tip, eyes on him the whole time. His eyes felt heavy but he refused to let them shut, wanting to see the way you took his cock into your mouth seductively.

A deep, throaty men left his lips as you swallowed as much of him as you could; never pulling your eyes off him and his head nearly tipped back with pleasure. Holding the base of his cock with one hand, you begin to bob your head setting a good pace, with your other hand on his muscular thigh.

Your eyes lock on the obvious muscles flexing under your touch, his abdomen more prominent than before and you eyed his tattoos curiously. Whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth was jerked off by your free hand that would occasionally run a little lower to massage his scrotum.

You can tell he was close which left you with a sense of pride. Your nose pressed into his pubic bone, taking steady breaths as you flattened your tongue and relaxed your throat to fit whatever more you can. Jungkook panted feeling the throb of his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.

You roughly swallow around him, suppressing a gag and resume to deep throat him.

"Fucking hell," he groaned tossing his head back in bliss, hand hiding his face as it scrunched together in pleasure. Moans were pouring out of his mouth, sounds muffled into his hand, "I'm so—close."

It hit him at once, hips nearly licking from how hard his muscles tightened with pleasure. His cock twitched warning a gag from you before he couldn’t take anymore. You didn’t pull away, swallowing what you could of his release.

Jungkook slowly comes down from his high, hand petting your hair. His eyes were hazy and his mouth dry. It felt like he couldn't move a muscle but he needed to feel your mouth on his. He could taste himself on you and with your aftertaste on his he wished to kiss more, pulling you onto his lap.

It was the best head he’s ever received yet his cock ached for more.

“Condom?” You asked, nipping at his ear lobe making his eyes roll. He didn’t bother to shift you off his lap as he blindly felt around his nightstand for protection.

He let you slide it onto his member, watching it bounce back up, too stiff to budge and held placed a hand at the base as you moved to straddle him.

The expression you made as you sank onto his length was utterly beautiful and you radiated a confidence in taking him that he hadn’t seen before. Every time he’d seen you has led up to this moment where you could finally be as intimate as you please and he wasn’t the only one jumping for the chance. He didn't push to move even if he really wanted to and instead let you adjust. He wanted this to be pleasurable to you too.

"Jungkook," you whined, hands flat on his chest making your tits perk up and he carefully shifted his hips, rolling them up to dig just a little deeper.

“That’s it baby,” he muttered under his breath, watching your hair fall forward as you tried to concentrate on his thrusts. You ground your hips against him and he watched your body shudder with pleasure. It was hypnotic the way you pulled him and he couldn’t help but lean upward, kissing one of your breasts as you rode his dick for the first time.

He groped at your ass, spreading the soft cheeks apart and rammed into you when you threw your head back with a whimper, "Feels good."

You threw your arms around him, suffocating him against your chest as he bounced you on his dick, moaning against your nipples and drooling. Jungkook's nail dug into your soft flesh as he lifted your hips up and down on his cock.

He felt stuck, unable to move his hips as much as he wanted to and with a low grunt, he rolled you onto your back, knees digging into the mattress as your legs wrapped around his waist, “Fuck, I can’t.”

You didn’t pay much attention to his words as Jungkook began to quite literally drop dick inside you, grinding his pelvis into you with each deep thrust and it felt nasty to be fucked this way.

A familiar ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds. He wasn't going to last much longer either.

He hasn't slept with someone in months and it definitely didn't feel like this. He didn’t give it up to just anyone despite what reputation he might have, and it took him time to sleep with you. He had to feel intimate in other ways before he let himself feel the pleasure you brought him.

“Gonna cum for me?” He asked softly, kissing your jaw and hugging your waist as he dug your pussy out, feeling your nails claw at his back.

“Please,” you begged, snuggling into his neck and his chest tightened with want. He put more purpose into his thrusts, bringing you and himself so close to the edge that you would tip over any moment. You sounded too pretty begging for him to just ignore.

A wave of pleasure washed over you, skin rising with bumps as a shiver ran down your body. He held you tightly as you moaned in euphoria, coming undone once again. Jungkook couldn’t hold on much longer and your legs around him gave him no choice but to fuck the rest of length in you until he came into the condom.

You laid together for a moment, both shaking and softly petty each other as you came down. Jungkook’s fingers combed your hair back and you straightened your sore legs as you let him pull out.

You don’t remember much aside from the drowsiness and he cleaned you up better than you could’ve.

He lied back in bed, pulling the covers over your naked body and fell asleep in your arms.

Once the sun rose into the sky, sneaking into the bedroom through the blinds and waking you from a heavy sleep, you found yourself feeling sore. You attempted to stretch but Jungkook’s arm trapped you against him.

“What time is it?” You mumbled to yourself, looking down at your naked body feeling self conscious as you rolled onto your side to find your phone. It was somewhere out in the foyer with the rest of your things you’d forgotten.

The time on Jungkook’s alarm clock read ten minutes past the bus. You should’ve been on it and on your way to the cafe.

“Y/n,” Jungkook mumbled sleepily, sitting up a little to see what was holding your attention, “Back to sleep.”

“I’m going to be late to the cafe,” You said, attempting to get up but failing miserably once he pulled you back down.

“Who cares about that one, let’s sleep a little longer,” He said and although your heart raced, you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Don’t you have work today? We’ll both be late,” You tried to reason but your now clingy boyfriend wasn’t hearing any of it.

“I’m in line to be CFO, I can do whatever I want and today I’m choosing to spend as much time with you as possible,” Jungkook said arrogantly but it was so easy to look past when he kissed your palm affectionately.

“Not all of us are as lucky,” You sighed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as you tried getting out of bed. Instead you just ended up underneath him.

His smile was mischievous, “So I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?”

“We already barely have time to see each other,” Jungkook said with a small pout, “And you live so far with someone who doesn’t deserve to see you as often as he does…”

“Well, maybe you should come stay with me. I know you said Yeaun doesn’t have the space to let you move in with her and I really don’t want you stressing about rent or living with someone you don’t want to live with,” Jungkook told you, slowly rolling off you once he felt he had your attention, “So what do you say?”

“You live far,” You tried to say, sitting up and clutching the sheets to your front. You weren’t completely opposed to it but shocked nevertheless.

“That’s why I think you should quit at the cafe,” Jungkook said eagerly, “That way you could focus on just one job and have so much more free time. I’ll take you or get you a driver—a car?, whatever you need to get to the bar. I know you like working there but at least you wouldn’t be running back and forth between jobs. I live far but I’m asking you, will you move in with me?”

“I have to think about it,” you sighed, sinking further into bed and the thought of getting up to answer missed calls from your job made you want to hide under the covers. You really did not like working there. It was early hours, shitty pay, and rude people. At least at the bar it was nighttime and the people knew you. And it would be nice to no longer live with Taehyung…

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, pulling you into his arms knowing you were seriously considering it, “… And if you ever decide you don’t want to be at the bar either… you’ll be with me and have all the time in the world to do what you want.”

“You’re offering too much,” You said playfully, hugging him lovingly, “I’ll really start to think about it.”

“Please, I could give you whatever you want if you just let me,” Jungkook says.

In some strange, unexplainable way, he fell for someone so unlike him. It was effortless and comforting to the point that nothing would bother him about it and all he wanted was to be with you. He could ignore everything else, or solve anything just to be with you.

It’s like you’re what he’s been looking for and he’s what you need—someone trusting, reliable and loving.

Ever since he saw you buying orchids at the convenience store, he can’t help but think of them when he thinks of you. You remind him of one.

Beautiful, charming, graceful. It didn’t matter if you had different upbringings or experiences, all he knows is you’re fit for him and he’s fit for you. He’ll show you things you’ve never seen, treat you to luxuries and care while you teach him more about yourself. Let him really get to know you and what makes you smile.

To do that, you have to let him in.

“So no work?” Jungkook asked hopefully making you roll your eyes, trying not to smile.

“I guess not,” You sighed, feeling him begin to smile against you and hurried to stop him, “But I should still go home.”

“To pack?”

“No, to shower and get dressed,” You corrected him, laughing at how he whined, “Well talk about it more later, last night was…”

“A lot?”

“You can say that”

::.

haven’t posted in forever and I needed to drop something for yall 😭I hope you enjoy it when it’s out and pls bear with me lol. idk if it’s good I’ve been working on it for too long to tell There’s definitely errors and questions yall might have so pls feel free to send it in inbox!

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 7 @jooniesxbby @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @ily4jknity @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @aindrila @cherrymoonlightt @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpoplover @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #effortlessly yours #bts smut

4K notes · View notes

inthelow · 2 months ago

Text

SMOKE SPRITE — jeon jungkook.

Pairing: fem! reader x jeon jungkook

Summary: you and Jungkook aren’t that close, you were supposedly be dating his best friend… then why is he about to fuck you in the back of his car?.

Genre/Warning: literally porn with a little plot. just blowjob tho; mentions of cheating but not really; some cursing, etc.

author note: wrote this in 15 minutes cuz i’m ovulating;; is just a short and horny kinda-drabble with jungkook because why the hell no?

part 2 / part 3

you can find more in this masterlist.

Jungkook knew he was doing something wrong.

The night didn’t go the way he planned it at all. It was Saturday, his friends had invited him to go out to get drinks. Things were supposed to be steady and normal. He was supposed to met his group of friends who he liked, go to the bar he knew very well, have some drinks to be more extroverted and then make an excuse to go home a little early than usual because he was tired… Nothing happened that way. It was 2 am and he wasn’t home, he was in the back of his car kissing you.

Something was definitely wrong.

He knew you for quite some time, you shared a lot of friends so it wasn’t new that you hangout a lot. You’ve never been that close though, you’ve had some good times together but you were closer to Yoongi and Namjoon and lately you seemed to be in a kind of special relationship with Taehyung, he didn’t know if you were just fucking or trying to date but he knew that his friend was head over heels with you, there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t try to talk about you.

So why was he kissing you right now?.

He wanted to find an excuse. He tried to think what had happened in the last hour that made you both make out in the back of his car, were you really that out of it?, was he really that desperate for some touch that he was betraying his friend?. He knew it was wrong but why did you feel you so good?. Kissing him that way, your hands grabbing his hair with desperation like he would run away from you any moment - he should, his hands felt so warm in your legs, you were on top of him not giving him any way out, maybe it was your fault. It wasn’t like he could just push you away… right?.

His mind went back to a couple minutes ago, both too drunk to drive, too drunk to know what you were doing. He was supposed to grab his wallet from his car to order a taxi for you both since you were the last two to leave the bar after ordering too many shots for some kind of competition you were having, he didn’t remember what was it. You weren’t supposed to see his weed, he wasn’t supposed to asked you if you wanted to smoke, you weren’t supposed to say yes, he wasn’t supposed to sit next to you in the back of his car to smoke, you weren’t supposed to look at him with those tired red eyes, he wasn’t supposed to lean in to kiss you, you weren’t supposed to kiss him back.

All his effort to think straight went to hell when your lips touched his.

He thought you looked so hot, smoking weed next to him, coughing and giggling like that. He didn’t have to get hard from just hearing your cute giggles, but looking at you was his last straw, wearing that cute little short dress, breathing heavily, pink lips, red eyes, that sharp eyeliner that made you look like a cat, he knew he couldn’t just… not kiss you. Throwing the rest of the weed away before grabbing your hair to stamp his lips on yours, it was everything for him in that moment.

You were so intoxicated for him, his mind was in another universe but you were everything he could see and feel. Your lips felt so good against his, your hands were quickly to grabbed his hair, like you were waiting for him, that made him even more excited. The way he could feel your desperation too, the way you crawled on top of him and made him put his hand in good use, he wanted you so much, lost in the feeling of you.

He knew the right thing would be to push you, to ask you if you weren’t with his friend, he knew he had to do it even if you denied it because he had listen to Taehyung’s rambles about you for weeks, a good friend would push the girl away… no, a good friend wouldn’t even had made the decision to kiss you. He knew the right choices he had to take but he just pushed those thoughts far away from his mind before moaning in your mouth.

You were a minx.

Taking shots with him, making a competition because you knew he wouldn’t say not, pointing out the weed, kissing him back. You had looked so innocent all night, just drinking and chatting with your friends, even flirting with Taehyung in front of everyone, touching him and giggling in his ear before deciding to sit next to him, before deciding to take some shots with him, before deciding to stay longer with him, before saying no to his friend’s offer to take you home because he was already tired, before drinking more with him, before going to his car, before kissing you.

No, you weren’t innocent at all.

Did he make you this intoxicated too?.

“Let me touch you” he sounded so needy, so desperate to put his fingers or mouth between your legs.

You pushed him a little before smirking. You were a fucking demon, he could just come in his pants at the sight of you. Your hair all over the place, your swollen lips, your heavy breathing, your lazy eyes, he wanted to eat you all.

Did Taehyung actually get that lucky?.

You didn’t say anything, your hands going to his pants to unbutton and tug them down. He was so gone, so out of it and he could sense that you were the same as him, maybe to into it to think straight, maybe too high to actually understand what you were doing. He wanted to know if you were so worked up like him, were you wet?. If he moved his fingers to your core, could he play with your wetness?, could he make you come easily?. He knew he could if you gave him the chance, he could touch you so good, he could give you all the pleasure you wanted.

He threw his head back when your fingers touched his clothed cock, teasing him slightly with the tip of your fingers, rubbing them up and down to feel the length and form of it. He tried not to moan when your hand finally wrapped around it, closing his eyes and sighing when you started to move your hand slowly, you started kissing his jaw and neck. He knew he was going to come so easily, he tried to think of something else, how the his vision wasn’t the best, how everything felt light and dizzy, how the fogged up windows make everything hotter… nothing was working when your were touching him like that.

“I wanna taste you.”

Yeah, he was going to come so fast.

“Please.”

He would have punched himself in the face at how needy he sounded but the way you smile proudly at his desperation was so hot, he wanted to surrender for you in an instant.

He didn’t know how you fitted in his car’s floor but in less than twenty seconds you were kneeling in front of him, looking so good between his legs. He bit his lips at the sight, you looked so good like that, looking at him so fucked up. Your hands went straight to his underwear to tug it down. Your eyes opened with excitement when you saw his cock jumping out hard and ready to be taken to your mouth.

“You have a pretty cock, Jungkook.”

He sighed, his eyes all black and with pure lust. He never heard anyone say his cock was pretty, big yes, good also… pretty? it was the first time. He was hard as a rock and his tip was shinny with pre cum and red, begging to be taken care of. You looked like you were going to devour him. He asked himself if you did the same with Taehyung… When you stuck out your tongue to taste all of his length before giving a small kiss to the tip, he begged to God that you didn’t.

Your lips wrapped around his tip before sucking in, he threw his head back to the seat. You started sucking his cock so slow and hard that he thought it might be the best head he ever had, maybe too fucked up to even remember the ones before. But you were so good, taking him little by little until his tip hit your throat and you gagged on it. He took your hair in his hands to give you more access to confort, he sighed and moaned, closing his eyes to not look at you because he knew he would come faster if he did.

You were so good for him, on your knees, taking his cock in your mouth.

You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be doing this. Jungkook shouldn’t be letting you doing this…. Jungkook thought that maybe it was Taehyung’s fault, he was there with you, why didn’t he take you home?. He should have, maybe if he stayed a little longer, maybe if he stayed glued to your side you wouldn’t be here, maybe if he actually touched you good you wouldn’t be here. Did he touch you?. Did he get the pleasure of seeing you like this too?. It was Taehyung’s fault for not insisting in taking you home, for not taking care of you. Yeah, If anything, it was Taehyung’s fault that this was happening.

And Jungkook wanted to thank him so bad.

Your tongue circled his cock tightly before sucking again, he gritted his teeth hard at the sensation. Your right hand squeezed the beginning of his cock, moving it up and down as you sucked his tip with determination. You were good, so good for him. He wanted to tell you many things but he just groaned when you started to gagged on his cock, moving your head up and down and letting him move his hips to fucked your mouth the way he wanted.

“So good, fuck- you’re so good…”

He felt his core tighten, his head getting dizzy and his mouth dry. He hissed and complained when you grabbed his thighs to pushed him down, backing away your mouth from his cock.

“It’s only polite to look at me while I suck your dick, don’t you think?.”

He came.

When he opened his eyes to see you, the world stopped momentarily for him. You on your knees with your ruined mascara and red eyes, with a line of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock, with your hands clawing at his thighs, with your hair being a mess and being held up with his weak hands. You were the devil made in person. Your lips wrapped around his tip and he didn’t take his eyes off of you while you swallowed all of his cum, your eyes didn’t leave his either, and he knew you had ruined sex for him. Nothing would feel as great as this. His hands grabbed your hair harder and his legs tense at the sensation, his eyes felt heavy and everything became more dizzy and slow. It was perfect, he had to close his eyes to steady himself, his breathing was unstable.

It took him a couple of seconds to come back to reality. When he opened his eyes you were still on your knees, lips glossy and eyes black and mischievous. His hands left your hair to your cheeks, with his thumb he cleaned his cream left in your jaw and lips to make you suck it. He felt himself getting turned on again, were you a witch?. How was it that you had become the epitome of sexiness for him. He narrowed his eyes when your tongue touched his thumb, tasting his cum while looking at him. He was going to come again.

You let go of his thumb to pout “kiss me?.”

He usually didn’t like to kiss after giving or receiving oral sex, he didn’t seemed to into it nor he like it that much, it wasn’t his favorite thing. He didn’t know why he took you from the hair to stamp his lips into yours, grabbing you with strength so you could sit on top of him again. He moaned at the taste, thinking how good it was to taste himself in your mouth, how good you tasted, how hot you were. He asked himself how was it that he didn’t like it before, he asked himself how because now it was the best meal he ever had. You made everything so hot, he wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to show you that he could make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“So good, pretty. You were so good” he said before kissing you again.

The fingers of his left hand dug into your hair while with his right hand he held the back of your neck to keep you from getting away. His tongue sank into your mouth, wanting to savor every bit of it. His heart pounded with excitement as you let out a small moan, he was sure he was going to get hard again the way your hands were rubbing his abs and chest under his shirt.

His lips traveled to your neck, he was becoming desperate again. He had come only two minutes ago but he couldn't stop, he needed to make you feel good, he wanted to see you come undone in front of him, he wanted to see you tremble and moan, he wanted to see your legs shake and make you unable to form any coherent word, he wanted to see you lost in pleasure, he wanted to taste you, to know your flavor, he wanted to put his fingers inside you, getting you so wet until he could fuck you, slow and hard… or fast and soft, any way you liked, any way that would make you moan louder.

His hands travelled down your body, making the tip of his fingers touch every part of your body until his palm got to your thighs, you were burning hot, so warm for him. He rubbed your skin slowly, his hands getting closer and closer to your core. His heart beat faster when he got to pull your dress up, finally being able to see your black underwear. His thumb went straight to your warm, finally feeling the wetness even in your panties…

“I’m gonna fuck…”

Ring!, Ring!, Ring!.

You pushed him away slightly, your phone vibrating on the other seat to your left. You both look at it, the name of the person shining in your screen with a picture of you and him smiling at the camera.

Kim Taehyung.

You pulled away from him, taking your phone and sitting next to him to answer “Hello?.”

Jungkook froze in place. What was happening?. He was going to fuck his fingers into you, maybe even taste you later, why were you answering Taehyung like nothing had happened?. Why were you fixing your clothes and sitting pretty next to him while talking to another man?. why were you so normal about it? Like if some minutes ago you weren’t chocking on his cock. He should have taken your phone away or throwing it outside his car. He should be kissing you again and fuck you, making you feel good. But no, you were talking with Taehyung on the phone and he wasn’t able to do anything, he didn’t have the right to, he didn’t feel like he had to.

“What is it?” he asked when you groaned annoyed.

“Tae…” you sighed, still looking fucked up “, yeah, yeah, yes, I know, no, yes we are. But…” you complained before pushing your phone to Jungkook “. He wants to talk with you.”

He grabbed your phone with frustration before opening his mouth to talk with his friend.

“Hello?.”

“Bro, why is she so fucked up?” he didn’t sound mad, just worry “. I thought you were gonna take her home.”

“I was… I am…”

“God, you sound the same too.”

“We just… smoked a little.”

“Shit, of course you did” he sighed, Jungkook heard some noice in the background “. I know I shouldn’t have let you take care of her. I’m on my way to the bar, don’t fucking move.”

Taehyung hung up.

Jungkook’s blood boiled, he wanted to tell Taehyung that he was about to take good care of you if he hadn’t call, that you actually took good care of him, really good care. He was so annoyed by his friend.

“He said he’s on his way.”

“He’s so annoying” Jungkook wanted to shot himself in the head when he notice the way you said it, with a smile on your face, with a cute tone in your voice, did you really like him? “. We should get clean” you chuckled “. I’m going to the bathroom first.”

You didn’t give him time to stop you, slipping away from the car to wash yourself in the bar’s bathroom. He groaned at the frustration, throwing his head back and regretting not being the one to touch you first.

Sitting in the back of his car with his pants and underwear down to his knees, your lipstick on his dick and lips, his shirt wide open, the flashbacks on you on your knees, the taste of you in his mouth and images of you in his mind… he knew he was really fucked up, he wanted you again.

hehe, just wanted to make a whiny and needy jungkook. i didn’t edit shit cuz im lazy and this one kinda sucks lol

might do a part 2 so let me know if you like it >_<

#reader x jeon jungkook #jk x reader #reader x jk #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bangtan x reader #bts x reader #bts one shot #bts fanfic #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

rpwprpwprpwprw · 3 months ago

Text

jungkook in multiverse: fanfics recommendation 💌

Your neighbour? Spiderman? Best friend? Husband? Idol? Your dead ex? Yeah, he can be that guy.

ps: thank you authors! love you guys. so much. your stories means the world to me <3 (like this is art piece! no joke

jungkook masterlist.

summary: you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience.

my review

🌟clandestine by @junghelioseok | smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au | completed

summary: forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

my review

🌟 see both sides like chanel by @michuga | best friends to lovers, sexual tension, fluff, reader is a little absentminded, jk is a damn tease | completed

summary: your best friend, jeongguk, has only ever dated boys. unbeknownst to you, (he was also into girls).

my review

🌟 LATE NIGHT KOO 01:15 by @guksfairy | dabble, jungkook x reader | completed

my review

🌟 dream encounter by @michuga | jungkook x reader | completed

summary: you meet the man of your dreams. literally.

my review

🌟 heartwave by @chrrybbmb | spiderkook!, spideyjungkook, spideykook, spideyjk, spideykoo, spideyjk | ongoing

my review

🌟 i love you — a compilation by @kissforyouu | compilation of cute, funny and delicious stuff | completed

my review

🌟 peach and vanilla lip balm by @httpknjoon | genres | fluff, crack, secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au | completed

summary: No kissing rule was made between you and your secret boyfriend when he learned how you got your lip balm. But can Jungkook win in this rule he probably brought to himself?

my review

🌟Third Time's the Charm by @jjungkookislife | ex-boyfriend!jungkook x ex-gilfriend!reader | genre: crack, exes to lovers | completed

summary: Jungkook will do whatever it takes to get you back.

my review

🌟Inevitable by @ahundredtimesover | Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+) | completed

summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

my review, my review, my review

🌟to be loved is to be seen by @twilghtkoo | pairings. idol!jungkook x reader | genres/aus. fluff, established relationship, idol!au | completed

my review

🌟 checkmate by @kookie-krumbss | genre : fluff, angst and smut | pairing : photography major/ bartender jungkook x econ major/ accountant reader | ongoing

summary: It's been 5 years since you've last been on the dating app - checkmate. The premise of the app is quite simple: enter your bucket list, and the algorithm finds your best mate to check off your bucket list goals. With a free premium pity membership given by the app, maybe its time to hop back onto the dating scene.

my review, my review

🌟está dañada by @aquagustd | genre/rating — R | angst, fluff, smut | neighbor au, slow burn, singer!JK | completed

summary: life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

my review

🌟 the jeons (gym daddy) by @justarkive | family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff | ongoing

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

my review

🌟Blame Morpheus for your sins by @voitier | [mini-series!] friends to lovers, college au | ongoing

summary: 𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽... you and jungkook had been attached by the hip since you were little toddlers learning how to live in your own bodies, which led you two to spend most (if not all) of your life together. one weird dream makes your whole view about your best friend change. how will you live with that?

my review

🌟the lunchbox delivery by @jincapableoflove | genre: househusband! jungkook, corporate office worker! reader, established relationship, flufff | ongoing | drabble

summary: jungkook, your soft yet badass househusband, goes on a city-wide mission—apron and all—to deliver the lunch you forgot in your morning rush.

my review

🌟shameless by @kooktrash | genre/au: gym instructor!y/n x jungkook. infidelity au. obsessive [she/her. afab] yandere | completed

summary: unsatisfied with your current relationship, you find yourself swept into an affair with a regular at your gym. it turns out he’s not the sweet, charming man you fooled yourself into believe he was but for some reason, you keep going back to him.

my review

🌟long way home by @sparklingchim | genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers | tropes: single dad jk, boxer!jk, !angst! | completed

summary: jungkook's life makes an 180 degree turn when he's suddenly a single dad and while you're trying to help him come accustomed to the new circumstances, your long-standing friendship takes new turns as well.

my review

🌟Assistant Boy by @httpjungkookcom | Genre: assistant boy!jungkook x desk receptionist!reader, smut | completed

summary: Summary | sitting pretty at a desk all day gets boring, dealing with minimal tasks and check ins. you're unbelievably excited when a new assistant joins the office. and said assistant is a pretty boy with an even prettier personality.

🌟 lovenotes by @voyter | neighbor au. secret admirer koo | completed

summary: trying your hardest to avoid valentine’s day, you suddenly find yourself at the center of it when a secret admirer starts leaving notes at your door.

🌟 Baby Girl by @euno11a | Pairing: DILF!Jungkook x PreSchool Teacher!Reader | ongoing

summary: You always gave yourself one rule, never fall for a single dad. It would be messy and you’d never be his number one. So why did your favourite kid’s dad have to be so hot?

🌟 Broke Boy, Fake Girlfriend by @aajjks | genre: 18+, crack, roommate au | fake dating \ completed

summary: Your annoying roommate, Jungkook’s shameless fake dating act goes hilariously wrong when he thinks he can charm you into paying for his café splurge, but you turn the tables with some dangerously sweet flirtation.

🌟Dentist appointment by @hellokittykookies | genre: fluff | completed

summary: you’re scared of the dentist and jungkook comes with you to cheer you up. Unexpected words come out of you after the appointment.

🌟Instagram by @jeo9n | genre: fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers | ongoing

summary: you’ve been texting jungkook on instagram non stop ever since he opened his account as a joke. but what you didn’t expect was for him to actually text you back.

🌟NO NUT NOVEMBER by @voyter | boyfriend!jk | completed

summary: jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: no nut november. but you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it.

🌟Introvert by @avianyuh | completed

summary: Jungkook is an introvert. He enjoys seeing his friends, but he hates having to leave the house. When Jimin throws a birthday bash, Jungkook being one of his closest friends feels obligated to go. He has his whole night mapped out. He'll greet Jimin, eat some food and then leave once he's made small talk with the other guests. But when the party makes a detour and hits the club, Jungkook is plotting his escape route. Or at least he was until he met you.

🌟Winter things by @girlygguk | genre fluff, smut | golden retriever bf x black cat gf, long distance established relationship | completed

summary: it’s jungkook’s favorite time of year and the only thing on his list is you. getting to finally feel you, see you, meet you outside of his computer screen. now it’s happening. and, god, you’re even prettier in person.

🌟Hot Eve by @aajjks | smut, ex!boyfriend!jk | completed

summary: getting fucked raw by your ex boyfriend stuck in an elevator on Christmas Eve.

🌟NOT JUST ON CHRISTMAS by @girlygguk | genre established relo, college au, fluff, smut | pairing nerdy!jk x gf!reader | completed

summary: he's the first boy you've ever brought home for christmas. jungkook's nervous. you're horny.

🌟Inkling by @gguksgalaxy | AU: Tattoo Artist ›› Genre: Smut / Angst | completed

summary: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

my review

🌟Better Than Him by @margotw10bis | roommate!Jungkook x reader | Genre: fake-dating; romance; smut; one-shot | completed

summary: When your boyfriend cheats on you and decides to bring his lover to the wedding you invited him to, you take vengeance by pretending you have a new boyfriend: your hot roommate.

2K notes · View notes

youthguk · 3 months ago

Text

Encore 2: Intermission

“Some scenes only happen when the lights go down.”

pairing: idol! jungkook x editor! reader

genre: smut, ex lovers, second chance au, angst with smut, toxic ex au

summary: You’ve worked too hard to become untouchable. He still knows exactly where to touch. After one night of stolen pleasure, you’re determined to walk away — but Jungkook isn’t ready to let you go again. Between silk sheets, half-spoken regrets, and a black-tie dinner where flirtation becomes revenge, your past and present spiral into something dangerous. It was supposed to be physical. But feelings don’t follow the script.

warnings: explicit sexual content (multiple scenes), oral (f + m), fingering, rimming (f receiving), protected sex, angst, unresolved feelings, toxic relationship tension, emotional breakdown

w.c: 10k

author's note: ugh, this part really broke me🖤 writing and creating stories takes a lot of time, and no matter how much i love doing this and jungkook, i would love your support and feedback 🖤

part 1 | part 2 (you're here) | final part 3

You stand in front of Seo In-kyung’s office door in borrowed heels and smudged eyeliner, praying your face doesn’t betray the night carved into your body.

The morning light bleeds through the glass walls like scrutiny. Her office is pristine — sharp angles, a curved leather chair behind a white marble desk, walls lined with editorial archives and thick matte prints. A minimalist arrangement of white orchids sits perfectly still in one corner, untouched by dust or emotion.

You knock.

“Come in.”

Her voice cuts through like the heel of a Louboutin.

You step inside, clutching your tablet too tightly. Your hair is pulled back — barely — in a low twist that you smoothed with shaking fingers in the backseat of a cab thirty minutes ago. Underneath the oversized Saint Laurent blazer, your dress is the same one from last night. You're hoping it passes as intentional. It doesn’t.

Seo In-kyung is already seated. Flawless. Impeccable. A navy Mugler blazer sharp enough to slit throats, heels lacquered, wrists bare. She doesn’t smile. She gestures to the chair opposite her without looking up.

You sit, spine straight. For a moment, silence.

“You really outdid yourself, Y/N.”

She’s flipping through a printed copy of the BTS campaign spread — full bleed photos, minimalist layouts, editorial perfection. The same layouts you stayed past midnight refining. The ones you pushed through legal, color, and styling approvals with nothing but caffeine and willpower.

She taps her manicured nail on the cover.

“This,” she says, “brought the entire industry back to us.”

You exhale. Just slightly. “Thank you, Director Seo.”

“Don’t thank me,” she says, eyes still scanning the page. “Thank your instinct. You were right to strip it down. No gimmicks. No clutter. Just tension.” She turns a page. “Even Jeon looked like a man worth remembering.”

You freeze. But she doesn’t elaborate. Just closes the folder, places it gently beside her, and finally looks at you.

You wish she hadn’t. Her gaze is cool. Calculating. The kind that scans and files away. You feel it — the mess behind your eyes. The mascara you didn't have time to fully erase. The faint redness at your mouth. The scent of a man that no water could completely wash off.

She leans back in her chair. “Fondo di Luce.”

You blink. “Sorry?”

Her fingers tap the marble. Once. Twice.

“It’s an international art and fashion initiative,” she says. “A luxury gala held annually at Villa Fioretta, Lake Como. Private guest list. Couture-only. Funded by Dante Seo’s Light Fund and Vogue’s European partners.” A pause. “And we’ve been invited.”

Your breath stirs.

“I want you to represent Vogue Korea,” she says.

Silence blooms between you. “Me?”

“Yes. You pitched this campaign. You shaped it. People in Milan want to meet the girl who made the cover go viral.”

You feel lightheaded. Not from panic this time — from the taste of possibility. Of respect. Of validation earned, not handed.

Your mouth opens to thank her but then she speaks again.

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

The room shifts. Your spine locks. Her gaze hardens. She doesn’t blink.

“I don’t tolerate editors who sleep with clients,” she says. Voice smooth. Flat. “It’s unprofessional. It’s disgusting. It makes us look like we earned our place on our backs.”

Your blood turns to ice.

“You, Y/N, are better than that. You’ve proven yourself. Your instincts are rare.” A pause. “It would be a shame to lose someone like you because she couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

You don’t breathe. You can’t. You nod once, eyes fixed on a nonexistent spot on her desk. She stands.

“That’ll be all.”

You rise mechanically. Thank her. Bow. And walk out of the office with your pulse screaming in your ears. The moment you step into the hallway, Kara is there. Perched by the espresso machine in the break corner, sipping an oat milk latte with glossy lips and smug silence. She doesn’t say anything.

Your fists clench. Your face burns. You want to tear the smugness off her face and throw it back at her in headlines.

Instead, you walk past her — heels echoing like threats — and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

You check it.

Unknown Number

Still quiet, hm? Should I send someone to pick up my jacket or do I get a kiss as collateral?

Buzz.

I’ll take the kiss.

Buzz.

…or both.

You delete the thread. Turn off your notifications. And get back to work.

You don’t cry in the hallway. You don’t clench your jaw, or turn on your heel, or demand Seo In-kyung look you in the eye when she delivers the kind of warning she never would’ve given to a man. You don’t remind her that half the board she answers to built their careers on affairs with photographers, designers, founders — powerful men who never had to answer for the women they fucked.

You just breathe.

Measured. Controlled. Counted down like pills in the morning. You walk back to your desk with your back straight, your heels clean against the tile, pretending you don’t feel the ghost of his hands still pressing into your hips. You can almost hear him still — that teasing, velvet-coated filth, low and smug against your skin. You hear it in the vibration of your phone every hour since sunrise. You hear it in Kara’s eyes every time they rake over you. You feel it in the way your own body responds when you close your eyes at night — when your fingers trail down beneath the sheets and it’s his name that sits between your teeth, no matter how hard you bite down.

You tell yourself it was just sex. A one-time indulgence. A lapse in judgment that began and ended in a penthouse no one else has to know about. You tell yourself it was closure — that there’s no gravity to the way he held your face in his hands like he still knew how to ruin you. That the ache still curling inside your chest is nothing but delayed shame.

But the problem is, it wasn’t just the sex.

It was the way he looked at you like five years hadn’t passed, like you weren’t a stranger in that room, like you were still the girl he used to know in a borrowed hoodie and scraped-up Nikes, standing in a dingy kitchen, editing your first column with red pen on a ten-thousand-won table. It was the way he kissed you with a hunger that felt older than his fame. It was the way he let you bite him, claw him, curse him — and still whispered “come back to me.”

And now you're here. Perfectly poised in the office you fought tooth and nail to climb into, barely holding yourself together while your editor-in-chief — a woman born with the title stitched into her spine — calls you brilliant and disposable in the same breath. She will never know what it feels like to be called a genius on Monday and a whore on Wednesday. To be handed praise with a choke chain wrapped around it. To have your best work reduced to who you might have let touch you after hours.

She can talk about dignity. She can afford to. You, on the other hand, know exactly how fragile power can be when it’s built from scratch.

✦✦✦

The message comes barely an hour after you walk out of Seo In-kyung’s office.

You didn’t even say goodbye.

You don’t open it. You don’t need to — the preview alone is enough to make your stomach twist. You swipe it away, fingers rigid, and tell yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. Not the message. Not the sender. Not the way your name still looks when it rolls off his voice, even in text.

That night, another one arrives.

Was it the blazer? Should’ve left you something softer.

You laugh, once. Quietly. Then delete it like it burned you. You don’t respond. You won’t. Because if you let yourself type anything — a word, a punctuation mark, the space before a breath — you won’t stop. And you’ve worked too hard, pulled yourself too far out of the wreckage, to let one night drag you back into the ruin you barely crawled out of.

But the texts don’t stop.

Sometimes they’re careless. Teasing. Written like he’s still in your bed with your thighs pressed against his hips and your nails in his back. Other times, they’re sharp with weight, like he doesn’t know which version of himself you’ll tolerate — the boy who left you, or the man trying to come back.

You never reply. But you read every word.

And at night, when the world finally stops demanding your time and your poise and your reputation, when the silence of your apartment feels too loud to ignore — you remember how he touched you. You remember how it felt to let go of everything for one hour, one night, one man who once shattered you so completely that you forgot what it meant to breathe without him.

You touch yourself like it means nothing. But it’s his voice you hear when your fingers slip lower. It’s his mouth you imagine when you bite your own shoulder to muffle the sounds. It’s his hand around your throat when you finish — sharp and soft at once — and it’s his name that almost slips out, pressed against the inside of your teeth like a secret you’re still ashamed of wanting.

You don’t look at your phone after that. You tell yourself it was just sex, you’re smarter now.He’s just another mistake in a long line of things you’ve learned how to survive.

And when another message arrives — two days later, right as you're finalizing your flight details for the gala in Lake Como — you don’t even read it.

You just close your eyes, and try not to remember how he looked at you when he came.

✦✦✦

You arrive at Incheon International two hours before your flight, slipping through security behind oversized sunglasses and an air of quiet efficiency. The blazer you’re wearing is Dior this time — borrowed from the archive rack, boxy at the shoulders, sleek across your hips. Beneath it: a slate-gray satin blouse tucked into wide-leg ivory trousers, pressed razor-sharp. You look like someone who’s going to Lake Como for work, not for war.

It isn’t until you reach the boarding gate that you see the line of black masks, tailored airport coats, and hush-voiced assistants clustered like chess pieces around Gate A7.

BTS.

Of course.

Your stomach doesn’t sink. It knots — tight, controlled, slow — like the warning of turbulence long before the plane leaves the ground.

You keep walking, silent, graceful, aware of every click of your heels on the polished floor. You don’t let yourself search for him. You don’t have to. You feel him before you see him — a presence that presses against your awareness like heat against skin, impossible to ignore.

It isn’t until you’re lowering yourself into your business class seat, reaching for the strap of your carry-on, that you finally glance up — and meet his eyes.

Row 2. Aisle seat. Black mask, black cap, rings on both hands. And staring at you like he hasn’t blinked in days. You look away.

The plane boards slowly. Assistants murmur. Photographers keep their cameras off. The boys move like shadows, trained to blend, to disappear behind the shape of fame. You keep your posture perfect, legs crossed at the ankle, your tablet open with your flight agenda already pulled up — even though you’ve read it three times.

He doesn’t approach until you're halfway into the sky.

You excuse yourself from your seat, nod politely at the stewardess, and head down the narrow aisle toward the lavatory — slow, deliberate steps in heels that whisper money and control. The tiny hallway near the restrooms is dim, quiet, muted beneath the drone of altitude and distance.

You don’t expect the hand on your wrist.

It’s not rough. But it’s firm — and you know that grip. You’ve felt it around your waist, your neck, your thighs. You turn slowly, breath already caught halfway between fury and something far more dangerous.

He's right there. Closer than he has any right to be in this narrow corridor with no eyes but yours and his. The door to the lavatory is behind you. His body blocks the path. His scent — soap, leather, the faint trace of your perfume still clinging to his jacket from days ago — wraps around you like memory.

You keep your voice cold.

“Do you seriously think now is the time?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at you, face half-shadowed by the cap, eyes hungry in a way that makes you press your thighs tighter, just to feel something grounded.

Then, finally, he speaks — low, rough.

“I keep dreaming about the way you moaned my name.”

Your stomach tightens. You don’t blink. You lift your chin instead “That’s all it was. A dream.”

But his eyes drop — once — to your mouth, and then lower. “I remember the way your legs shook. That wasn’t dreaming.”

You inhale sharply, but your expression doesn’t change.

“You should go sit down.”

“Or what?” His voice dips lower. “You’ll pretend again you don’t want me to fuck you right here?”

His hand doesn’t move. His body doesn’t touch yours. But you feel every inch of him like a scream in your skin — heat, memory, friction.

You smile — slow and cutting. “I’ve learned how to control myself. You should try it sometime.”

His gaze flickers. Just slightly. Then he leans in — not enough to touch, but enough for you to feel his breath near your neck, his voice low and ruinous.

“I’m not the one squeezing my thighs together.”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that your heartbeat is in your throat, that your body is already lit from the inside out. You hate that you want to kiss him. Bite him. Tear him open. But you won’t. Because you’re not that girl anymore.

You step aside, brushing past him with a look that could frost steel, and say nothing as you return to your seat. You don’t check to see if he follows.

You don’t breathe again until you’re halfway through an article you can’t remember reading, with his gaze still burning a hole into the back of your neck from three rows behind.

✦✦✦

The wheels touch the tarmac just past four in the afternoon, and the landing is smoother than expected, the kind that glides into the runway with practiced quiet, as if even the aircraft has been told to behave. Outside the small window, the northern Italian sun pools in long, soft ribbons over the hills, stretching across the landscape like liquid gold, tinting everything it touches with the kind of warmth that doesn’t burn — only stuns.

You disembark without ceremony, your sunglasses still in place, your coat folded over one arm, and your expression carefully blank. The assistant from Vogue Italia is waiting beside the hangar — her posture perfect, clipboard in hand, dressed in cropped white linen and flat shoes that probably cost more than the flight. She greets you by name, with polite English and a smile that’s too curated to be real, then leads you across the quiet concourse, past shuttered photographers and a cluster of sleek black cars idling behind a discreet security perimeter.

Your name is listed on one of the placards. Y/N — Vogue Korea.

So is theirs. BTS.

You don't react — not outwardly. There is no visible shift in your posture, no flicker in your gaze. You’ve already taught your body how to lie better than your words ever could.

The assistant ushers you toward a waiting Mercedes, its interior cool and leather-scented, the seats butter-soft beneath the press of your thighs. A silver tray holds still water, a lemon wedge perched just so. Your phone buzzes once in your lap. You don't check it. Not yet.

The drive from the airport is postcard-perfect in a way that feels intentionally cruel — narrow country roads wrapped in vine-laced stone, the distant glimmer of Lake Como revealing itself in flashes between tall cypress trees and crumbling terracotta villas. Each bend in the road opens into a view more breathtaking than the last, until you almost forget where you're headed and why your chest has been tight since the gate at Incheon.

The car finally slows as it pulls through ornate wrought-iron gates that gleam with gold filigree under the light, winding up the long private drive that spills into the front courtyard of Villa Fioretta. The estate rises from the hill like it was carved directly out of the cliffside — all creamy limestone and tall shuttered windows, manicured terraces spilling over with ivy and white flowers, and delicate copper details that catch the dying sun like jewelry. It looks like something you’ve seen on a Vogue Italia cover in a past life, or maybe a perfume ad from the early 2000s, the kind where everything was just slightly out of reach, and nothing ever truly belonged to you.

As the driver comes around to open your door, you exhale once, slow and silent, and allow your face to settle into something calm and beautifully unreadable.

Inside, the villa is all elegance in hushed tones — soft marble beneath your heels, pale walls washed in ivory and cream, every piece of furniture chosen for quiet power rather than comfort. The concierge greets you by name and with reverence, offers you a key card embossed with the letter “F” in deep matte black, and explains with the expected level of practiced charm that you’ve been placed on the fifth floor, lake view, courtesy of Fondo di Luce, and that a welcome aperitivo will be served on the lower terrace shortly after six.

You nod, thank them, and enter the elevator with the same stillness you’ve been wearing since you boarded the flight. It’s not until the doors begin to close that he enters behind you.

You don't need to look to know it's him. The presence is immediate — heavy, hot, undeniable. His cologne clings to the air, low and sharp, the same one you woke up wearing four mornings ago in his bed, still tangled in his heat.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you.

The silence in the elevator stretches, long and taut, the kind that drapes itself over the walls like velvet, pressing in on all sides. You keep your gaze forward, focused on the panel, the floor numbers blinking upward. You can feel him beside you — not touching, but close enough to undo you all over again if you let yourself lean even an inch in his direction.

The mirrored wall reflects the shape of him — rolled sleeves, black slacks, tattoos visible where the cuff is turned, sunglasses tucked into his collar like he never needed to hide. He’s looking at you. You don’t return it.

The elevator stops at five.

You step out first. The hallway is quiet, dimly lit, touched with the kind of warmth that money doesn’t have to brag about — just suggests. He follows.

Your room is halfway down the hall. You can hear the soft tread of his boots behind you, steady and measured, but it’s the silence between you that rattles louder than any footfall.

You stop at 506. Slot the card into the reader. The green light flashes. Still, you don’t turn.

"If you're going to say something stupid, Jungkook," you murmur, voice calm but edged, your hand resting on the doorframe like it might hold you steady, "don’t waste it here."

The door unlocks with a soft click. You step inside and let it close behind you without another word.

You never heard his footsteps retreat — which is exactly why your hands are still shaking when you set your bag down on the velvet bench at the end of the bed.

✦✦✦

The evening descends in a soft, golden hush, the lake catching the last streaks of sunlight and bending them into mirrored ribbons that stretch across the manicured garden lawns. The terrace is already glowing by the time you arrive — dozens of floating candles bobbing in the villa’s pool, crisp white tablecloths draped over stone tables, wine glasses catching firelight like they were designed to burn. Waiters move like shadows through the crowd, balancing trays of Campari spritzes and white truffle canapés, slipping between conversations spoken in Italian, French, and English laced with old-money vowels.

You’ve dressed for the kill.

The gown you chose is a strapless black number that ends just above your mid-thigh — sculpted to your body like it was designed for this exact kind of dusk, this exact kind of attention. The satin clings in all the places you used to hide and now let sharpen you. Your back is bare, your collarbone glistens with a soft sheen of skin-warmed perfume, and your heels are high enough to demand silence when you walk. The neckline dips low, the hem even lower, and there’s a part of you that knows—without even needing the confirmation—that if Jungkook looks at you tonight, it won’t be casual.

You tell yourself you wore it to feel powerful. You tell yourself that it’s just about proving a point.

But deep down, beneath all the polished rationality and strategic poise, you know it’s a lie. You wore it to tempt him. Or maybe to punish him. It’s hard to tell the difference anymore.

You glide through the terrace like you belong to it. Conversations flicker as you pass — Vogue Paris, L’Uomo, a few senior figures from Condé Nast and K-Media International — all familiar faces from the inner circle of fashion and luxury publishing. You smile, you nod, you take a glass of wine with the hand not gripping your clutch, and you keep moving.

He’s here. You haven’t seen him yet, but you feel him. You’ve felt him since the moment you walked in — like a change in air pressure, like heat blooming in places that should be cold. Each time a new shadow approaches, your chest coils tight, your gaze flicks once, and you brace yourself.

The first time you actually see him, he’s standing on the far end of the terrace near the balustrade, surrounded by three men in Tom Ford tuxedos and a woman from Vogue Italia who is laughing too easily at something he hasn’t said. His hair is pushed back, exposing the sharp line of his jaw, the silver hoop in his ear catching the light each time he turns slightly, and his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to make your mouth dry. He looks devastating. You don’t look twice.

You spend the next hour performing avoidance like an art. Each time he moves in your direction — and he does — you change course. A conversation with a photographer. A compliment to someone’s emerald earrings. A turn toward the pool just in time to keep a table between you. He’s watching. You know he is. And you never let yourself look back.

Until you meet Dante Seo.

He arrives like an entrance — tall, olive-toned skin that speaks of Italian summers and Seoul winters, his suit perfectly fitted in bone-white silk with a single black brooch gleaming on the lapel. His hair is dark and swept back with the ease of someone who doesn’t try hard and never has to. His smile is clean. Curated. Dangerous.

“You must be Vogue Korea,” he says as he offers his hand, eyes tracing over your form like he’s calculating how many men in the room already hate him for standing beside you. “No one told me you’d be this stunning. I’ll have to send my regrets to our editor-in-chief for not coming in her place.”

“Y/N,” you reply, slipping your hand into his. “Campaign editor. But I suppose the title doesn’t matter so long as I’m stunning.”

He laughs — low, indulgent — and motions to a pair of older executives hovering behind him.

“You all remember Jeon Jungkook, I’m sure?” Dante glances sideways, eyes sparkling. “The face of Vogue Korea’s revival, the star of the cover that’s been circulating Milan for two weeks straight.”

Your spine tenses.

“I think it’s fair to say Korea brought us something exceptional,” one woman offers, sipping from her wine. “He was brilliant. Magnetic. I hadn’t seen that kind of restraint from an editorial in years.”

“I think that was more the editor’s eye than the idol’s,” Dante says, looking directly at you now, one eyebrow lifted with the kind of mischief that always ends in trouble. “Tell me, Y/N. How did you convince a man like that to surrender so completely?”

You force a smile, swirl the wine in your glass, and answer coolly.

“Sometimes all it takes is silence.”

More laughter. More praise. More commentary on how sharp he looked, how he carried the shot, how Vogue Korea must be so proud. The room keeps saying his name. Over and over, like it means something, like it doesn’t still taste like sweat and regret and begging on your skin.

You excuse yourself twenty minutes later, your glass half-full and your teeth aching from how hard you’ve clenched your jaw.

The moment you step back into the villa’s interior, the noise blurs. You walk past the grand staircase, through the velvet-draped hall toward the elevator, your heels muffled against the thick cream carpet, your throat hot from wine and words you didn't say.

You don’t notice he’s following you until you reach your door. The moment you slide the keycard into the reader, he’s there.

One hand planted against the door beside your head, the other grazing your hip, his body closing the space so completely that all you can smell is him — clean, woodsy, sharp with the memory of what he did to you last time.

You turn slowly, your back brushing the wood. His breath is hot against your cheek, his voice low and intimate, like a confession laced with filth.

“Do you want me to say it?” he murmurs. “Do you want me to say I couldn’t stop staring at your thighs all night? That I imagined dragging this dress up your legs while the whole fucking party watched?”

Your body tightens. You keep your voice steady.

“Move.”

He leans in closer, lips brushing just beside your jaw.

“I saw how you avoided me. Like I was the one who begged. You think I don’t know you wore this dress for me?”

You swallow. Hard. His fingers trail lightly along the line of your jaw, down to your mouth, hovering there as if waiting for a tremble he already knows is coming.

“I could take you right here,” he whispers. “I could make you cry with my fingers before you even reach the bed.”

You hate the way your knees weaken. Hate the thrum building between your legs, the ache in your stomach, the heat spreading low and sharp like fire beneath your skin.

You should say no, open the door and disappear into the room and lock it behind you.

But when you meet his eyes — dark, hungry, full of something wild — you fumble the key, and he catches it with a smirk, sliding it into the lock like he’s been there a thousand times before.

And when the door opens, you step inside without a word. Not because you forgave him. Not because it means anything.

Only because your body stopped asking for permission the moment his mouth said your name.

✦✦✦

The door shuts behind you with a heavy, soundproofed click, and the moment it does, you feel it — the shift in air, the sharp electric drag of his presence right at your back.

You barely make it three steps into the suite before his hand circles your waist and drags you back against him. You don’t gasp, you don’t whimper, but your body tenses with something that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the ache that’s been clawing at your stomach since the moment he stared at you from across the terrace like he wanted to fuck you blind.

His mouth finds your shoulder first — soft, open, hot — pressing through the thin fabric of your dress, kissing along the slope of your neck while his other hand skims down the silk curve of your thigh. You smell wine on his breath, wood and heat and hunger, and he’s already hard against your ass, pressing into you like he can’t believe you’re real again.

“Fucking knew this dress was for me,” he breathes against your skin. “Knew it the second I saw you.”

You turn your face slightly, just enough to graze his jaw, your voice calm even as your blood roars beneath the surface.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

His grip tightens.

“This.”

He spins you — smooth, practiced, fast — and pins you against the suite wall, just beside the blackout-curtained window, one knee between your thighs, your heels barely catching grip on the polished wood floors. His hands are under your dress in a second, sliding up your thighs, growling when he feels just how little you wore beneath it.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice low and guttural. “You didn’t wear anything for me?”

“Maybe I wore it for someone else,” you murmur, tilting your head, letting your lips brush his but never touching fully.

His teeth graze your chin. “Don’t fucking test me tonight.”

“I thought you liked being tested.”

He laughs — dark, breathless — and you both know you’re seconds from snapping. His hands glide over your ass, gripping, kneading, dragging you harder against the bulge in his pants. You rock your hips back, just once, just to feel how badly he wants it.

And then you pull away. “Sit.”

His eyes flicker, and you see it — the surprise, the interest, the way his breath catches just slightly before he obeys. He backs up toward the edge of the king-sized bed and lowers himself slowly, legs spread, cock straining against the fabric of his tailored black trousers.

You follow him. Drop to your knees between his legs like it's a throne, not a man.

His eyes are already half-lidded, hands braced on his thighs, watching you as you reach for his belt with smooth, practiced fingers. You undo the buckle with no urgency, and when the leather slides through the loops, he hisses under his breath like it’s your mouth around him already.

When you reach into his boxers and pull him out, you exhale softly — not from surprise, not from awe, but from the rush that starts between your legs at the sheer weight of him in your palm. He’s hard. So hard it makes your mouth water. The tip’s flushed, leaking, pulsing against your skin.

He looks like he wants to say something — maybe a tease, maybe a curse — but the second your lips close over the head, all he does is moan. Long. Deep. Raw.

You don’t rush.

You swirl your tongue around the tip, one hand still stroking the base, the other flattening against his lower abdomen to keep him exactly where you want him. You suck slowly, carefully, letting your mouth shape around him like you’re molding heat out of gold. You glance up — and the sight of him nearly undoes you.

His head is thrown back, mouth parted, hands gripping the edge of the mattress now. The muscles in his thighs are shaking under your palms. When you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper, his hips jerk, his voice cracks.

“Fuck— Y/N… don’t… I’m gonna—”

You pull off with a wet pop, licking your lips like a threat.

“You’re gonna what?”

He opens his eyes, looks at you like you’re the devil himself, and chokes on a groan when you go down again — this time deeper, wetter, your tongue pressed under the shaft, saliva dripping down your hand. You let your mouth contour around him, let him feel every inch of heat and slick velvet you can give.

“Please,” he whispers, eyes clenched shut now. “Please don’t stop. Please—fuck—just like that—”

The begging shocks you. It makes your core throb, makes you grind your own thighs together as you take him deeper still, lips stretched wide around him, hand working what your mouth can’t reach. You love the way he sounds, the way he begs, the way this man — who fucked you like he owned you just days ago — is now unraveling in front of you with your name gasped like a prayer.

You pull off again, let your lips drag down the side of his cock, tongue licking up the vein, and you whisper:

“You taste better than I remember.”

He grabs your shoulders, dragging you up fast, lips crashing against yours like he’s trying to climb back into control.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” he mutters, voice shaking. “Get on the bed. Now.”

You don’t resist. Because you want it too — filthy, breathless, and only getting darker from here.

He doesn’t let you move far — his hands are already on your thighs, on your waist, pushing you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed, and he shoves you down with a grip that’s firm but reverent. He follows immediately, kissing you deep, tongue filthy in your mouth, his taste mixed with the sharp salt of his own arousal. You moan into him, still breathless from the way he sounded minutes ago — the quiet begging, the desperation, the way he came undone just from your mouth.

But now he’s reclaiming the space.

He pulls away, eyes black, chest heaving. You barely register your own dress being pulled up, bunched around your waist, before he drops to his knees between your legs and drags your soaked thong down with both hands — slow, savoring the way the fabric clings to you, the wet string pulling along your folds.

“Fucking perfect,” he mutters, and you feel it in your spine — that growl, that tone, the sound of someone starving.

He spreads your legs wide, pushes your knees up, and leans in with no ceremony. His mouth finds your clit in the same breath as his fingers gripping your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed until you feel like you’re going to slide off entirely — right into the heat of his mouth. His tongue flicks once, then twice, then circles until your hips buck.

“You’ve missed this,” he says against your cunt. “This pussy remembers me.”

You try to argue. You try to speak. But your breath stutters when he sucks your clit into his mouth and moans like he’s tasting sugar.

Your hands fly to his hair, gripping the soft strands, anchoring yourself. You can’t stop the sounds that escape you now — soft, sharp gasps, your head falling back as he devours you, his mouth relentless and wet and so good you can’t think straight.

And then he slides lower.

At first it’s a tease — his tongue licking below, over the tight ring of muscle, making your thighs twitch. But then he spreads you wider, his thumbs parting your ass, and before you can process it, his mouth is there, licking into you with slow, filthy indulgence.

You moan — loud, uncontrolled, broken — and your entire body tries to lift off the bed. He holds you down.

“Jungkook—” It’s the first time you’ve said his name like that tonight, and it cracks at the edges. “What the fuck—”

He doesn’t stop.

He eats your ass like he’s done it before, like he’s memorized you, like he owns the right to taste every inch of you. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping hard enough to bruise, and when his tongue drags back up to your clit again, your vision blurs.

And in the haze of your unraveling, one thought claws through everything: he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Your hips grind up into his mouth, chasing the friction, chasing the high. And when he slides two fingers into you — slow and deep — your back arches, your moan breaks apart, and your orgasm hits like a wave dragging you under.

He doesn’t stop until you’re trembling beneath him, thighs twitching, cunt fluttering around his fingers.

When he finally pulls away, his mouth is slick, his eyes feral, and he climbs back over you like a man who hasn’t eaten in days.

“You good?” he whispers, voice raw with pride.

You glare at him, chest still rising and falling, and mutter, “You’re disgusting.”

He smirks, kissing your collarbone, licking a stripe up your neck.

“And you’re wet.”

He’s on you before you can gather your thoughts — his body pressing you into the mattress, heavy and solid and far too familiar. His chest brushes yours, warm skin meeting your peaked nipples, and the friction makes you hiss between your teeth. You try to push him back, just enough to reassert something, anything — but he catches your wrist and pins it to the bed beside your head.

“Don’t,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “Not when you’re this wet for me.”

You scowl, but it’s weak — half-hearted, half-turned-on, and he knows it.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

He leans in, licks into your mouth like he owns it, and then slides his cock slowly through your folds — hot, heavy, dragging along your slit until you’re whimpering despite yourself. You feel him reach for a condom, hear the crinkle of foil, and then his hips notch forward, the thick head of his cock pressing at your entrance.

“You still feel like fucking heaven,” he groans, and when he pushes in — slow, so slow — your nails dig into the sheets.

You gasp, head falling back against the pillows. He’s big. He always was, but this time it feels deeper, sharper, like every inch is a punishment you didn’t see coming.

“God—” you breathe, blinking up at the ceiling. “Why the fuck do you still feel this good?”

“Because your pussy remembers me,” he says through a ragged exhale, hips still rolling forward. “Because it’s mine.”

You clench around him at the word — mine — and hate how much it turns you on.

“You really think one night erases years?” you bite, trying to pull your voice together, but it’s breathy and cracked.

“No,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “But it reminds you.”

He bottoms out, and the sound you make is caught between a moan and a curse. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, trying to pull him deeper even as your pride screams at you to shove him off. He feels too good. It’s too hot. It’s everything you didn’t want to feel again, wrapped in silk and sweat and his goddamn voice.

He starts to move — slow and deep, every stroke dragging across every nerve ending you have.

“You’re clenching,” he growls in your ear, licking down the side of your neck. “You missed this. Missed me.”

“I missed being fucked,” you shoot back, voice shaking. “I could’ve found that anywhere.”

He snaps his hips once — hard — and your gasp betrays you. Your hands fly up to his back, nails digging in.

“You’re lying,” he pants. “You never let anyone fuck you like this. Never let them see you like this.”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that you’re already close again, already tightening around him like he’s the only man who’s ever made you come this hard.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you come,” he murmurs, brushing sweaty strands from your face. “Wanna feel it again. Wanna watch you break.”

You pull him closer, arch your back, and mutter into his neck:

“Then make me.”

That’s all it takes. He fucks you harder now — still deep, still deliberate, but with that edge of hunger he’s been holding back all night. His pelvis rubs your clit with every thrust, and when his hand slides between you, fingers circling your swollen nerves, you see stars.

You’re writhing now, moaning his name like a warning, and he’s kissing you through it, swallowing your sounds, your curses, your surrender.

And when you finally come — tight and fast and gasping — he moans something filthy into your mouth that you’re too far gone to understand. You feel him tense, feel the thick roll of his hips as he buries himself one last time, and then he’s groaning through clenched teeth, coming with your name against your lips.

For a moment, the room is nothing but breath and sweat and silence. Then you turn your face away. And the next wave starts building.

You should’ve gotten up. You should’ve pushed him off and walked into the bathroom, should’ve wrapped yourself in a robe and poured a glass of water and reminded yourself who you are now — not nineteen, not in love, not wrecked by the memory of a boy who never said goodbye.

But instead, you stay. Lying there, trembling in the aftermath of an orgasm that still echoes in your spine, your thighs slick and sore, your heartbeat pressed somewhere up in your throat.

Jungkook shifts beside you, his palm still on your stomach, his breath still hot against your shoulder. You can feel him stirring again, thick and half-hard between your legs, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re moving — rolling onto your side, facing away, pulling the sheet off your skin like you’ve surrendered to something you’ll never admit out loud.

He presses up behind you, his chest flush to your back, his mouth trailing down the slope of your shoulder with reverent hunger. One hand slides over your hip, gripping it as if anchoring himself to reality, the other skating down between your thighs to find you still soaked.

“Still dripping for me,” he mutters, voice hoarse with lust. “You love this.”

“I hate you,” you breathe.

“I know,” he whispers, pushing your legs apart. “That’s why you’re letting me do this again.”

You want to scream at him. You want to tell him to shut the fuck up, to get out, to stop twisting everything into something so ugly and true — but then the head of his cock is sliding between your folds, and your breath catches in your throat like betrayal.

He pushes in slowly, and the stretch burns — not painfully, but beautifully, the kind of fullness that makes your spine arch and your mouth fall open. His hand finds your throat from behind, just a gentle pressure under your jaw, guiding your gaze up to the full-length mirror across the room.

“Look.”

You shake your head.

“Look, Y/N.”

Your eyes flicker open. And what you see takes the last bit of air from your lungs. Your body — flushed and glistening, breasts bouncing gently with each slow thrust, his chest pressed to your back, his hand wrapped around your throat. His face — focused, wild, desperate. Yours — wrecked.

“Fuck,” he groans, picking up speed. “You look so fucking good like this.”

“Shut up,” you bite, but it’s weak, broken, your voice shaking.

He pulls out, slaps your ass once, then sinks back in deep. You whimper, your head falling forward, but he doesn’t let you look away.

“I want you to see what I do to you.”

You do. And that’s the problem. Because it’s not just the sex. It’s the way your mouth falls open when he rolls his hips just right; your nails claw the sheets when he says your name like a curse and a prayer. The way your eyes can’t lie in the mirror — how wrecked you are, how undone, how his.

“You’re just a dick to me,” you spit, desperate, cruel.

But he only groans and fucks you harder. “Then why are you dripping down my thighs?”

He reaches between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, circling fast and filthy, and your body convulses around him, your moans high and breathless. He fucks you through it, relentless now, slamming into you as your muscles clench around him.

The mirror fogs. Your eyes blur. And when you come again, it’s with his name on your tongue and your pride somewhere back in Seoul.

He follows moments later, hips stuttering, curses tumbling from his mouth as he spills into the condom with his forehead against your shoulder and your scent all over his skin.

The sound of your own heart, thudding against your ribs like a warning.

You pull away first. Walk into the bathroom without a word, leaving him in the bed where he just ruined you all over again.

✦✦✦

You take your time in the shower, as if hot water can rinse off regret. You wash his hands from your thighs, scrub the taste of him from your mouth. You tilt your head back and let the water hammer against your eyes until it’s impossible to tell what’s tears and what’s steam.

But none of it works. Because when you walk out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe that still smells faintly of jasmine, he’s still there. Shirtless. Sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them like he’s praying to something he stopped believing in a long time ago.

You walk to the desk in the corner, grab your phone, place it face-down, and then turn around — arms crossed, face unreadable.

“You should leave.”

He looks up. And he doesn’t move.

“Jungkook,” you repeat, slower now, sharper. “This doesn’t change anything.”

He rises, but he doesn’t close the space between you. His voice is low, frayed at the edges.

“Stop pretending it was just sex.”

You laugh — bitter, quiet, worn thin. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

His jaw clenches. “You felt it too.”

“I felt your cock inside me,” you snap. “I thanked you for the orgasm. What else do you want?”

“That’s not what it was.”

“You’re right,” you say, folding your arms tighter. “It was nostalgia. A stupid, warm, familiar fuck. That’s all. It’s easy to miss someone when you’re lonely.”

He steps closer. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to.”

There’s a pause. A thick, excruciating silence.

“You and I…” he says, softly now, like the words might shatter in his throat, “we were made for each other. Even our bodies—”

“Oh, right,” you cut in, vicious now, unable to hold it back. “You’d know. You’ve had so many to compare.”

His mouth opens. Closes. For once, he has no clever retort. You press forward, rage slipping between the cracks of your voice.

“How many, Jungkook? Since me? How many fans, idols, influencers, pretty things to fuck between tours? Don’t act like I was unforgettable when you replaced me every goddamn night.”

“I didn’t replace you,” he says — broken, breathless. “I was just trying to forget.”

“And did it work?”

“No.” His voice cracks. “No, it didn’t. I was stupid. I was young and insecure and fucking terrified. I hated myself for what I did. I still do.”

You shake your head slowly, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, the robe cinched too tightly around your waist now.

“You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to walk out when things get hard and come back years later with apologies and expect me to what— forgive you? Believe that you’ve changed?”

“I have changed.”

“Good for you.”

He takes a trembling breath. “I don’t want to be defined by the mistakes I made when I was twenty.”

You inhale sharply — then exhale through your teeth like it burns.

“You think I wasn’t twenty too?” Your voice rises, high and brittle. “You think I didn’t feel lost? I moved to Seoul with you. I started everything from scratch. My job. My name. My future. I met people too. Rich ones. Brilliant ones. Men who would’ve killed to touch me, to claim me, to give me the fucking world—”

He flinches.

“—but I never said yes. Because I wanted to go through it all with you. I was building something. A life. A career. A future. And I wanted you beside me.”

Tears fall now. Hot, fast. You don’t bother to wipe them.

“But you left,” you whisper. “No explanation. No closure. Just silence. Like I meant nothing.”

He takes a step toward you while you step back.

“You broke me,” you say, and your voice finally cracks — full and sharp and agonizing. “You left me alone in a city that already hated me. You made me beg for your attention without saying a word. And I still had to show up to work. Smile. Climb. Watch my dreams come true with no one beside me to see it.”

“I should’ve been there,” he chokes out, eyes shining now. “I was a coward. I didn’t deserve you then. But I want to be the man who does now. Please—please just give me a chance to prove it.”

You stare at him and your heart is breaking. But you shake your head.

“Every time I look at you,” you whisper, voice like shattered glass, “I see the version of myself you left behind. Nineteen. In love. Hopeful. And you stole her from me. You robbed my nineteen year self of her happy future.”

His lips part, trembling.

“I’ll never forgive you for that.”

He doesn’t move. Just stands there in the quiet of the room that still smells like sex and sweat and the bitter rot of everything they’ve broken again. His eyes are red-rimmed now, chest rising like it physically hurts to speak — and maybe it does.

“I love you.”

He says it softly, like the words themselves might vanish if he says them too loud. Like he doesn’t quite believe they’ll land.

Your lips part, barely. But you don’t answer. Not at first. You just stand there, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, robe clinging to damp skin, trying to shield yourself from a wound that’s already been split open at the seam.

“I never stopped,” he whispers, stepping closer, not enough to touch, but enough for you to feel the warmth of him, even now. “Even when I fucked up. Even when I disappeared. Even when I hated myself for it.”

You blink once. Your throat tightens. And then you speak — slowly, like every word is a blade you have to pull out of yourself to hand to him.

“No.”

He freezes.

“No, you didn’t love me then,” you say, voice low, calm, terrifying in its precision. “You loved how I made you feel. How I adored you. How I was yours when you wanted me, and gone when you didn’t.”

His breath hitches, but you go on.

“And now you’re doing it again. You’re confusing lust with love. Familiarity with fate. You’re looking at me and thinking this means something more than it does, because you want it to, because it makes you feel less guilty.”

“It does mean something,” he argues, stepping forward like he’s desperate to close the space. “You and me—”

You shake your head. “You don’t get to say that. Not anymore.”

He opens his mouth, but you lift your hand — not to strike, not to touch, just to stop him.

“I don’t believe you,” you say, and you mean it. “And even if I did… it’s too late.”

You turn then, slow and sharp, like your heart is finally made of steel instead of longing, and you gesture toward the door — toward the end of the night, the end of the echo, the end of whatever illusion he came here chasing.

He doesn’t move at first. But when he does, he doesn’t say anything else. Just walks to the door with quiet steps, like the weight of everything he never said is finally too much to carry.

The door opens and shuts behind him with a soft, final click.

And in the silence that follows, you don’t cry. You just stand there, still barefoot, still breathing, staring out across the lake through the glass windows as the lights of Villa Fioretta shimmer back at you in the dark.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself whisper the truth. He broke you. And you’re still not sure if you’ll ever recover.

✦✦✦

Villa Fioretta sparkles like something out of a Renaissance painting — golden lanterns swinging in the breeze, shadows stretching long over the polished marble as the evening unfolds with practiced luxury. The terrace for tonight’s formal dinner is carved into the cliffside, overlooking the dark silk of Lake Como, each table draped in white linen and framed with tumbling white roses. Candles flicker in crystal holders. Soft jazz rolls under the clink of silverware and laughter that never reaches the eyes.

You arrive later than planned.

Hair pinned. Makeup fresh. The kind of dress that breathes elegance from the front and vengeance from the back — low-cut, high-slit, sharp where it needs to be and soft where it shouldn’t. Midnight navy satin hugs your waist, drapes over your thighs, whispers down your legs with every step you take. On your ears: diamonds. Around your neck: a pearl choker — delicate, pointed, surgical.

No one would know that you didn’t sleep last night. Except maybe him.

Jungkook sees you before anyone else. Of course he does. He’s already seated when you arrive, across the long dinner table, dressed in black-on-black with his hair slicked back and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack. His eyes meet yours. Then drop. Then return. He doesn’t look away after that.

You let your gaze sweep past him like he’s any other guest — beneath you, behind you, not even worth remembering. Because tonight, you’re not here to feel. You’re here to make sure he does.

“Ah, Y/N.” Dante Seo stands when you’re led to your place, a slow grin blooming on his face like he’s waited the whole day for this exact moment. “You’re late.”

You slip into the chair beside him without apologizing. “I had to recover from a… long night.”

His eyes spark at that. You don’t let them linger.

Around you, the table is littered with people who make headlines for a living — stylists, designers, fashion house CEOs, cultural editors from every Vogue in the western hemisphere. BTS is here too — seated near the far end, spaced out perfectly so the illusion of randomness doesn’t look like security protocol.

You don’t look at them either. You focus on Dante’s hand as it grazes yours every time he reaches for his wine. You focus on the warmth of the candlelight on your collarbones. On the way people lean in when you speak.

“You truly spearheaded something magnificent,” the director of Vogue UK says, dabbing at her lips. “That October cover… everyone’s talking about it. Jungkook’s never looked so refined.”

“Or so raw,” someone else adds. “There’s something vulnerable in it. Almost like…”

“Like he was seen,” Dante finishes, smiling sideways at you. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

You sip your wine.

“That was my job,” you reply coolly. “To see him as something more than a headline.”

Your words hang between you, and Jungkook doesn’t speak even once.

But you feel him. Every time Dante laughs too loud. Every time Dante leans too close. Every time his hand brushes your thigh under the tablecloth and you don’t move it away. You feel Jungkook watching like it’s a punishment. And maybe it is.

Because he doesn’t look powerful now. He looks like a man barely holding himself together — knuckles white against the stem of his glass, jaw so tight you know it aches. And still… he says nothing.

Dinner ends slowly. Plates are cleared. Dessert is offered. Liqueur appears in tall, thin glasses, and conversations bloom into something silkier, messier. Looser.

Dante leans toward you again, the scent of spice and ambition warm against your cheek.

“I have a bottle I’d kill to open with you,” he murmurs. “Private cellar. Ten minutes. Just us.”

You smile without showing teeth. Your heart is thudding like betrayal behind your ribs. But you nod.

“Lead the way.”

You stand. And that’s when he stands too. Jungkook.

You pretend not to see him following, just a few paces behind, not fast, not loud — but steady.

The hallway is dim, the sconces casting long shadows across marble walls as you and Dante make your way toward the private wing. At the turn, Dante checks his phone — a call from someone downstairs. He excuses himself for a moment, promises to be right back.

And then you feel it — the heat behind you. A presence you’ve memorized in your bones.

He says nothing at first. Just breathes. Then, softly — like a ghost afraid to be exorcised, “You don’t have to do this just to hurt me.”

You turn, slow and sharp, and there he is — no stage, no audience, no press-ready expression. Just Jungkook. Tense. Broken. Bare.

“I’m not doing anything to you,” you reply. “I’m leaving.”

“With him?”

Your smile is tired. “He asked nicely.”

His voice drops, rough and unsteady. “He doesn’t know you.”

“No one does,” you whisper. “Not anymore.”

His eyes close for half a second — like that one cut sliced too deep.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, almost to himself. “You’re just angry. You’re trying to prove something.”

“I’m proving I can walk away from you now.”

Jungkook steps closer. Just one step. Barely enough to touch. His breath hits your collarbone.

“If you walk out with him right now… I’ll never stop thinking about it.”

You blink. But your voice doesn’t break this time.

“Then think about it.”

“Please,” he says — and it’s not performance, not charm, not strategy.

It’s desperation. Raw. Quiet. Real.

“Please don’t do this. Not like this.”

You hesitate. Just a second. But it’s enough to break you.

“Don’t ask me for anything,” you say, voice soft and surgical. “You already took everything that mattered.”

And when Dante reappears at the end of the hall, you turn without another word.

Your heels echo across the marble as you disappear down the corridor. You don’t look back.

Not even when Jungkook breaks in the silence behind you.

send feedback, requests for drabbles and one-shots here

taglist: @twiinkletae , @whoa-jo, @emixlyn, @maariinaaaaa , @strawberryberrygirl , @viacb97, @bhonbhon , @baechugff, @mrspotatas, @hrndzsposts , @zzztaegizz , @bubblyyz , @vandjklove , @queenmasterxx, @lynnnnnnn23

#jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook ff #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook one shot

1K notes · View notes

kooksbunnnn · 1 year ago

Text

HOW WAS YOUR DAY: NAMJOON

Summary: Just namjoon fingering you in his studio as he asks you about your day.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: idol!Namjoon×reader. fingering, squirting, namjoons lap (it's a warning, yes), kissing.

Authors note: I want him. SO BAD. ___________________________________________

"I was uh..I was walking by her when I c-came and she g-gave me such looks-" you try talking as Namjoon’s fingers abuse your clit. He had you sat on his lap, your hands around his shoulders, your hips sat on his left thigh as he spread your legs slightly to fit his hand under your skirt.

"She did?" He asks, you nod whining. His hands work slowly as if he had all the time in the world.

You had visited him at his studio because you missed him. It had been days since you saw him, so you came bearing coffee and food. But as soon as you entered the building, the new recruit in his managing team gave you a dirty look.

You were his girlfriend for fucks sake!

"I wanted to smack her so bad, ohhh my-" you trail as he dips his fingers inside you to gather some wetness getting back to your clit again, rubbing it in faster more precise circles.

You gasp, squirming as he lazily sucks a hickey on your neck while making you see stars.

"So good joon fuck I love your fingers." He hums against your skin, squeezing your waist with his other hand resting against your back while his fingers tortured you back and forth from your climax.

"Did you eat something, love?" You nod, feeling the knot inside you, forming slowly and very gradually. His hands slow down his ministrations, and you whine as you feel your legs shake out of sensitivity.

"Joon-" you breathe out as he smiles proudly at the purple mark he gave you on your neck, marking you as his.

"What did you eat?" He asks with hooded eyes admiring the mark he left while you try to make phrases inside your dizzied head.

"I- some- ah fuck- I had a gimbap with my colleagues, mm-" You words stop with a hitch in your breath as he slides two fingers slowly inside you. You try holding his wrists, but then your hands end up clutching your hair because you feel so good.

"Colleagues, huh?" He says, curling the tip of his fingers slightly to tickle that spot.

"Oh shit right there!" Your head falls back as you feel that spot being rubbed in a way that makes your eyes roll.

"Was Mark there too?" You just gasp as his fingers rub your insides and his thumb rubs your clit from the outside. Your brain short circuiting at the amount of pleasure you're receiving.

You squirm in his hold as his other hand makes you stay still. His tongue licking around your earlobe while his fingers abused the little spongy spot inside you.

"I asked you something, love." his voice was so gentle yet firm, making your mind search for the question he asked. Your brain was too dizzy to think with his thick thighs underneath you along with the hard on he had, so you just moaned, clenching hard around his fingers.

He pulls his hand out and smacks your swollen cunt, shoving his fingers once again. Asking you again, silently.

Was he?

"I dont know, I dont know-" you repeat with a high-pitched whine, your voice echoing and bouncing against his studio walls. You're glad the studio was soundproof, or people might think Namjoon was killing someone in there.

He chuckles mocking your thoughtless face, "so dumb, my baby, look at you, my baby can't answer coz I fuck her open with my fingers huh? My perfect little cocksleeve." You clench hard as he makes you feel smaller by each syllable. You squirm in his hold, making him bite your skin underneath your ear.

"I'm close so close oh-so cl-so-" he chuckles as you babble dumbly, breathing heavily against your ears that it makes your mind wander to how hard he must be right now.

The moment your mind travels to his dick you miss it inside you, you want to feel him inside you, the stretch of his fingers making you miss the way his cock split you open 3 days ago.

3 fucking days.

You think you might die if you dont get fucked by him today.

Your eyes water as you feel your orgasm coming closer, his hard on pressing against the back of your thigh, making your mind swirl with dirty thoughts.

Your fucked out brain getting reminded of the way he pounds you against the mattress, the way he fucked you in his balcony 35 floor above the city. How he fucked you open with his cock in front of his mirror, fingers inside your mouth as he pumped himself dry inside you filling with his warm cum.

His warm cum. Oh god.

"Jesus, you're crushing my hand so hard." He says through his teeth as he feels your thighs tightening around his hand, your face buried in his chest.

He keeps you open to the cold air in the room while his warm fingers plunge deep inside you. Squelching so loudly you wanna hide of embarassment, but you're so close you think you'll go crazy.

When he fastens his pace, he pulls your legs apart by his other free hand, making you spread open for him on his lap. Your other leg now in his hold from under your knee, resting on the table in front of him.

"Oh god--" you breathe out as he picks up his pace, his stimulation on your clit and the spot inside you constant. You legs shake in his hold and your eyes start tearing up.

"Oh make me cum make me cum please? Please? Oh god please!" You mumble mindlessly, pleading him, requesting him, begging him to make you cum as he coos, his fingers never faltering. Your fingers clutch his hair desperately as you look into his eyes, begging, your eyebrows furrowed as he smiles almost mocking you.

Evil.

"Cum baby, cum whenever you want, make a mess, go on" he says, his breathe heaving in your ears. It's as if he had turned a switch inside you that made you arch your back in his hold. Your cunt squeezing around his fingers as your cum sprays all over his lap. He groans as he feels your walls pushing his fingers out, making him fill you up with his fingers again, making them squelch loudly.

He holds your hips chuckling darkly as you squirt all over his joggers, his fingers fucking you through your high but he needed more so he pulls his fingers out to rub your clit sloppily and you sob.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you feel your teeth clash as you breathe hard against him. Your body vibrates and thrashing in his hold as he growls against your lips.

"Yeah, good girl," he groans against your lips as you gasp, twitching.

His tongue plunges inside your mouth, and you squeal against his lips, your lips not even moving as you just gasp. Your eyes roll back, your hand clutching onto his neck desperately as his fingers rub your folds, making sure you spill everything you have inside you.

"Thats it thats it, my perfect girl." He coos against your lips, you breathe heavily, tears flowing down your eyes.

You whine, holding his wrists out of oversensitivity, smiling, feeling light-headed.

He smiles looking at you and teases your clit, flicking his index against it. Your body twitches as he does so, just to laugh at how pathetically your body squirms in sensitivity.

"Tch-tch-tch" he mocks you, grinning as your head falls back, his hand cupping your pussy making your eyes roll back. He squeezes, massaging your folds to calm you down.

"You did so good, my baby." He kisses your forehead, caressing your hair. "You okay?" He asks, his voice calming and deep. You nod tiredly.

"Good," he kisses your cheek, "because you're gonna do that again, but on my dick this time," he says, kissing your cheek again, tenderly.

Well, fuck.

___________________________________________

3K notes · View notes

yootaesowlwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Nothing But A Ribbon - Kim Taehyung

Requested: No.

A/N: @taeandpuppies because it was Tae's birthday, and that means she gets a gift too. Happy birthday belated Taehyung!

W/C: 1K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog or a pfp. Minors DNI or get blocked!

Prompts: I just walked into our bedroom and you were waiting in nothing but a ribbon wrapped around your neck

Warnings: Nudism, hint of suggestiveness, fluff, hint of comedy.

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the age of 16+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

Your hands gripped the grocery bags as you held tightly onto them, hoping that it would somehow warm up your hands that were freezing from the cold weather you were experiencing, but it did absolutely nothing, you had to go emergency shopping to stock the fridge before new years hit and everything would be out, and you’d be crushed just trying to get anything from the store. You quickly push the front door open and step inside before using your foot to shut it behind you, a sigh of relief leaves your lips as you step out from your shoes, the warmth from the house helping just a little to warm you up.

Your entire body freezes as you spot the shoes that weren’t there when you left near the door. You lift your head up and slowly lower the grocery bags to the floor. Was he home? He couldn’t be. He had duties to attend to for his military service. You were supposed to call him later today to wish him a happy birthday. You release the handles of the bags and make your way down the hallway.

“Tae?” You call out as you neared the bedroom, you were sure this was the only place he could be, you would have spotted him in the living area if he was there. “Tae, are you home?” The bedroom door was slightly adjured, and you could hear something move inside the room, you placed your hand against the door and pushed it fully open, your eyes open and your hands flew to your mouth. “Tae?!” You couldn’t help but scream, in excitement and shock. There he lays in all his glory, stark naked with only a ribbon around his neck. “What is this?” Your words sounded muffled behind your hands.

“Surprise, my beautiful angel,” He says. “I made it home to celebrate my birthday with you,” Even though you have seen everything already, you were trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander downwards. “And you weren’t home when I got back, and I got bored and found the ribbon and ta-da!” You move your hands away from your mouth, revealing the smile stretched across your lips.

“Tae… it’s cold,” You say as you make your way towards the bed. “You can’t just be laying here naked,” He sits upright and wraps his arms around your middle once you are close enough to the bed, the scent of him instantly surrounds you, and you instantly feel at home in his embrace.

“That’s where you come in,” He says, and lays his head against your stomach. “You can keep me warm,” You feel him tug on your body before you tumble forward and onto the bed.

“Tae!” You laugh out as you fall onto the mattress, and on top of him, you push your hands into the mattress next to his head as you stare down at him. “And what if…” You lift one hand from the mattress and run your fingers through his hair. “I’m not feeling up for that kind of warming up?” He unwraps an arm from around you and reaches up to cup your face.

“Then we don’t have to do that type of warming up,” He says. “I’m content just holding you and being near you right now,” He slides his thumb along your cheek, and you lean into his touch, closing your eyes to take in the moment. He was home, he couldn’t make it for Christmas a week ago, but he had somehow managed to make it home for his birthday, gosh, you missed him so much, and this was the best way to end the old year.

“When do you need to be back?” You softly ask. You were hoping he could at least stay the night, but you were also prepared if he had to go back before midnight.

“I can stay until the Thursday,” He says. You couldn't help but feel giddy when he said that, he was at least going to be with you for New Year. "I managed to save up enough vacation days to do that," Your smile grows wider, and you can feel the excitement bubbling inside your chest.

“That’s great news, Tae,” You say tilting your head downwards and planting a kiss against his lips, he quickly returns the kiss while moving one of his hands to the back of your head and curling his fingers into your hair. The taste of his lips was intoxicating, and you felt addicted to it, you had no idea how to really describe it, but it always made your mind spin. He slowly pulls away from the kiss, causing a sliver string of saliva to break off, you hadn’t realised how deep the kiss had become.

“You said cuddles, and to be honest right now, cuddles sound good after not getting them for several months,” He says, you lick your lips before resting your forehead against his.

“Cuddles do sound absolutely amazing right now,” You whisper and make yourself comfortable on top of him. “I missed this so much,” You feel his fingers gently start to comb through your hair.

“So, what were you doing? You weren’t home when I got here,” He says. You softly smile before it slightly drops again. “What?” Concern fills his eyes as he watches realisation fill your eyes.

“The groceries, they’re still at the front door,” You say. “I need to go put them away before some go bad,” You push your hands against the bed to push yourself off him and off the bed, you practically bolt from the door as you make your way towards the front door to pick everything up. Taehyung follows suit— still butt naked— and finds you with everything in the kitchen already.

“Let me help,” He says and begins unpacking a bag, handing you all the contents inside of it before moving on to the next bag.

“You really should have put on a pair of boxers,” You say with a giggle in your tone.

“Well, it’s not like I’m completely naked,” He says and points to the ribbon around his neck, which makes you burst into laughter. “You know it’s true,” He couldn’t help but laugh with you. “Let’s just finish here, and then I’ll go put a pair of boxers on,” You nod your head while still laughing. This was what it was all about, the laughter and the time with him, and everything silly with him, these were the times that you would forever remember.

17 notes · View notes

armpirate · 5 months ago

Text

The Vows Between Us || Jungkook

Part 2

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Arranged marriage

w.c.: 13.6k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing, edging (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 40 / 50 minutes

Summary: For Jungkook, marrying you was a calculated move -a necessary step to secure the company that was rightfully his. But also a move to know you'd be his after years of looking at you from afar. For you, it was an escape from the gilded cage your family had locked you in. What neither of you anticipated was the spark that would ignite in the ashes of your arrangement. But in a world where every touch felt like a promise and every whisper hid a secret, falling for him was your first mistake. Because just when you thought his heart might truly be yours, you uncovered the truth. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

The air inside Jungkook's office was warm and suffocating despite the minimalistic modern design and large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Berlin's skyline. You stepped inside with measured steps, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. Jungkook was already there, leaning against the edge of his grand wooden desk with his long tattooed fingers wrapping around the pen that kept swirling on his digits every few seconds, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're early," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something smug.

"I prefer to get unpleasant things over with quickly," you replied, your tone cool and detached as you slipped off your coat. "I assume your father told you why I'm here."

Jungkook chuckled, swirling the pen one last time before putting it down. "Oh, I know. The future Mrs. Jeon wants to 'discuss terms,' right? Sounds like a business merger already." his dark eyes gleamed with interest as he looked you up and down, deliberately slow. "But I'm curious, why did you finally agree? You seemed so determined to avoid me before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Not everything is about you, Jungkook. My reasons are my own."

The smirk faltered for a split second before returning, this time tinged with something bittersweet. "Fair enough," he said, straightening up and taking a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "But you'll have to get used to things being about us. At least, that's what everyone else will expect starting next weekend."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You kept your expression neutral, tilting your head just slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, this marriage may be inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jungkook smiled -slow, dangerous, and entirely too pleased. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That sentence alone had you rolling your eyes, trying to control yourself from slipping your tongue on how disgusted you were by that whole thing.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the strap of yourbag. "As long as you understand where we stand, this arrangement might work. We'll play the perfect couple for the public. But behind closed doors, we keep our distance until we sign the divorce papers. Simple."

Jungkook stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to make your breath hitch. His cologne -warm and spicy- wrapped around you like an invisible trap. "Keep our distance?" he repeated, his voice low, almost amused. "Is that what you want? Because that's not what it looked like back at that business gala... when you couldn't stop staring."

As much as you wanted to deny it, your eyes were indeed on him the whole time. He was charming and captivating, it was impossible to move your eyes away from him. But that hypnosis lasted until his family came up with the idea of imposing that marriage on you. He lost all his charm just at that moment.

You narrowed your eyes. "I was staring at the disaster unfolding around me, not at you."

Jungkook smirked, tilting his head. "Right. That's why your eyes followed me the entire night." he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "You're good at playing it cold, Y/n. But I wonder how long you can keep that act up once we're married."

You refused to back down, your voice calm despite the spark of irritation in your chest. "I've dealt with men far more intimidating than you, Jungkook. Trust me, keeping you at arm's length won't be a challenge."

A flicker of something darker crossed his eyes -something almost dangerous. For a moment, the air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

"Good," Jungkook finally said, his voice a whisper. "Keep trying to resist me. It'll make it that much more fun when you fail."

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step back, reclaiming the distance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever fall for you."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amused awe as he took on the challenge. "We'll see, future Mrs. Jeon. We've got a lifetime to test that theory."

You turned on your heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected you. But as you walked toward the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was right. The real challenge wasn't staying distant -it was making sure you didn't get burned by the fire between you.

"By the way, you mentioned divorce... didn't you?" your tracks stopped the second he mentioned that detail, hearing his heavy steps behind you as he approached his body.

Slowly, you turned to him, unable to back down on your stance "That's what we agreed on."

"Some deals suffer changes as they have to meet different necessities, don't you think?" the way his eyebrows arched, while his lips pursed on a mocking grin almost had you losing your patience. "Divorce was ever on the plate? Because I don't think it was one of my conditions".

"No, it was one of mine" you spat back. "Either sign those divorce papers on good terms, or I'll drag you from one trial to another" Jungkook loved the challenge, he loved the way your eyes fixed on him to make sure he understood everything you were saying.

"What if I don't want to sign them?"

"Then you'll have to find another dumbass to agree to get married to you" you rolled your eyes, thinking that would be the end of your conversation, but his fingers hooked on your elbow to stop you from walking away.

You weren't sure exactly when he got so close, but you could feel the warm air escaping his nostrils on your cheeks.

"Don't try to throw a fist at me" he stopped you. "You're so used to getting what you want, don't you? You pout a little, you act a little bitchy and daddy gives you all you want. Let me give you a spoiler: that won't work with me. The moment you're my wife, you'll do as I say. And if I say I don't want to get divorced, then you won't get those fucking papers".

Your eyes started to water: rage, sadness, frustration... All those feelings were building up as you realized you got to a no-exit stop. Your plans were crumbling down, all your ideas were getting ruined, and all you could do was tighten your lips and open your eyes as much as possible so tears wouldn't escape with a blink.

Daddy's girl? He had absolutely no idea. If you were living in such a perfect place, you wouldn't have agreed in the first place, but the fact that your parents -or people who gave you shelter when you needed it- agreed on engaging their daughter with a complete stranger for money should've given him enough of a hint of your reality.

"Your choice" you managed to get rid of his grip. "Either sign those papers, or I'll make sure to tell everyone what all of this is about".

"You won't. And you wanna know how I know?" he took one step closer to you. "I'll make your life a living hell if you do".

"With what power?"

Your mocking tone was the last straw before he moved his hand from your elbow to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and slamming your body against the wide door.

"I don't need any power for that." his eyes were dark, his threat becoming a promise "Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret ever messing with me. So you better come with a pretty dress and the best of attitudes next weekend". He let go of your throat slowly, calmly placing his shirt properly "I know you'll make the best decision" he finally said.

Your eyes were fixed on him, confused at how easily he let you go. And, somehow, his words were even scarier than his actions, because you could see the threat through them.

The grand hall was filled with muted whispers and expectant gazes, the air thick with anticipation. The soft hum of violins played in the background, their melody delicate but almost haunting. The guests sat in rows beneath an arch of white roses and crystal chandeliers, their eyes flitting between the tall doors at the back of the aisle and Jungkook, who stood at the altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stole a glance at the watch, sliding the sleeve of his jacket just a bit far up.

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen.

You weren't there.

He told himself you'd show up. You had to. But with each passing second, doubt sank its claws deeper into him. His heart pounded, and the polished facade he wore so well began to crack. Was this your way of backing out? A silent rebellion against a marriage neither of you had chosen? Were you actually telling the truth when you said you wouldn't show up if he didn't promise you a divorce?

The doors remained closed, and Jungkook's jaw tightened. His father, seated in the front row, shot him a warning glance -one that practically screamed "Handle this".

Then, just as his patience teetered on the edge of collapse, the heavy doors finally creaked open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

And there you were.

You stood at the entrance in your wedding dress, the long veil trailing behind you, catching the soft light like a halo. For a moment, the room seemed to blur around you, everything fading except the heavy thud of your heart. You could feel every eye on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down on your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your feet felt like concrete as you took your first step. Hesitation rooted itself deep inside you, your body caught in a battle between instinct and obligation.

Jungkook watched you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His dark eyes flickered with a thousand questions. You couldn't miss the way his shoulders tensed or how his lips pressed into a thin line, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal.

Step by step, you made your way down the aisle, but each step felt heavier than the last. Doubt whispered cruelly in your ear. "You don't have to do this" you told yourself.

Your fingers clutched the bouquet so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You forced yourself forward, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet Jungkook's eyes until you stood just a breath away from him.

"Finally," Jungkook muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

There was relief in his tone, but it was wrapped in a layer of frustration.

The officiant began to speak, his words echoing in the cavernous hall. You barely registered them, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Jungkook's eyes never left yours. His expression was calm on the surface, but you could see the storm raging just beneath it: fear, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.

"And now," the officiant said, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind, "if the bride and groom would like to exchange their vows."

Jungkook went first. His voice was steady, but the practiced words carried an unexpected weight, laced with sincerity that caught you off guard.

"I promise to protect you," he said, his gaze locking onto yours. "To stand beside you through whatever comes next. No matter what happens... I'm yours."

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes -just a flash- but it was enough to send your heart lurching in your chest.

Then it was your turn. The officiant turned to you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came.

A heavy silence hung in the air. It stretched long enough to make the guests shift uncomfortably in their seats. Even the soft melody of the violins seemed to falter.

Everything you had prepared so mindfully disappeared at the feeling of being so watched, as if you were under watchful eye. You were sure it'd be obvious you weren't feeling either of the words you were pronouncing.

Jungkook's fingers curled slightly at his sides, his eyes searching yours for a sign, for anything.

The officiant cleared his throat. "Do you, Y/n, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband?" his tone was insistent, as if he wanted to get any words from you to get all of that over with.

The pause that followed was suffocating. You felt Jungkook's breath catch, his entire body coiled tight, ready to unravel.

Although he hoped you wouldn't humiliate him that way, he saw you completely able to do it.

Finally, you whispered the words.

"...I do."

Your voice was barely audible, a breath more than a declaration. But it was enough.

Jungkook exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, though the tension in his jaw remained. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable, as if trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

The officiant smiled, oblivious to the war waging between the two of you. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jungkook hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before leaning in. Your head immediately threw back slightly, enough for him to know you didn't want that kiss and make it seem like a shy move for the rest of the assistants. His hand found your waist -firm but not forceful- as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, calculated for the audience, but the heat of it lingered far longer than it should have. Jungkook had been daydreaming way too long about it to waste that chance.

His lips were warm against yours, but there was something else beneath the surface. A question. A challenge.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours once more. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

The applause from the crowd felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely.

As the two of you turned to face the audience, Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"We're just getting started," he whispered, his voice dark with promise.

You kept your face neutral, your expression unreadable, but your pulse betrayed you, thudding wildly in your chest.

The reception was a spectacle of luxury and elegance, just as expected from a merger of two powerful families. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand hall, where hundreds of guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging polite congratulations.

You smiled and nodded your way through countless conversations, always keeping one eye on Jungkook. He was never far, and every time you saw him start toward you, you slipped between groups of guests or ducked behind another table.

You had managed to avoid him all night. At the cake-cutting ceremony, his hand had hovered near yours on the knife, holding tighter over your skin as you threatened to let the long sword slide from your fingers to his throat. And for a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, yet he only smirked and moved closer to you. You were quick to turn away, disappearing into the crowd the moment the applause broke, trying to get away from him.

Jungkook, however, was nothing if not persistent.

The moment you saw him again, his dark eyes locked onto yours from across the dance floor. This time, there was no escape. The crowd parted just enough for him to make his way toward you, his strides deliberate and confident.

"Running from me again?" he said when he reached you, his voice low, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

You lifted your chin, forcing your expression to stay composed. "I wasn't running. I was... mingling with the guests."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Right. Mingling." he offered his hand, palm open and waiting. "Well, it's time for the first dance, Mrs. Jeon. You wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would you?"

Your stomach tightened at the weight of his words. There was no getting out of this. Not without causing a scene.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm, and you couldn't help but notice how easily they fit together.

The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott filled the air. A sweet, tender song -one that felt far too intimate for the situation, as if it was meant for two people who loved each other.

Jungkook led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting gently on your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse stutter.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up today," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes searched yours, the teasing edge gone now, replaced by something far more serious. "You made me worried."

You swallowed, your gaze dropping for a split second before meeting his again. "I was... thinking things through."

His hand tightened slightly on your waist. "Did you change your mind at the last minute?"

For a moment, you didn't answer. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. The song swelled around you, the lyrics wrapping around your heart like a bittersweet lullaby.

You knew hell would be nothing compared to your life if you didn't show up to the wedding. Not because of Jungkook or his family though, but your adoptive parents. The moment you twisted all of their plans, there would be no escape from it.

At least with Jungkook you wouldn't owe anyone anything. Instead, you'd be the one they owe something to.

Jungkook's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you had, I would've waited. I would've found another way."

Your breath hitched. His words caught you off guard -unexpected and disarming. For the first time that night, the wall you had so carefully built around yourself began to crack.

He seemed so genuine, so caring.

"I'm here now," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "That's all that matters."

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. You're here."

The music continued, the world around you fading as you moved together in perfect synchrony. His touch was light yet grounding, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a fleeting second, you forgot about the crowd, the expectations, the tangled mess of your circumstances. It was just the two of you, swaying gently beneath the chandeliers, the lyrics of the song weaving a story neither of you was ready to admit aloud.

As the final notes faded, Jungkook leaned in just slightly, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

"You can keep running all you want," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "But sooner or later, you'll stop. And when you do... I'll be right here, waiting."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was no smirk, no mask, just him.

The applause from the crowd broke the spell, and you quickly stepped back, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Jungkook let you go, but his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to run again.

And maybe you would. But for the first time, a small part of you wondered if running was really what you wanted. No, you stayed by his side, answering to his challenge with the same power he was showing off.

The party blurred into a collection of clinking glasses, polite congratulations, and watchful eyes. Despite the sea of guests surrounding you, you felt like you were holding your breath the entire time. So when Jungkook leaned close and whispered, "Let's get out of here," you didn't argue. If he hadn't said it, you probably would've escaped by yourself.

Now, the two of you sat in the back of a sleek black car, the hum of the city filling the silence between you. The driver navigated the streets with ease, the warm glow of streetlights flashing across the car's interior.

Jungkook sat beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes kept drifting toward your hand -the wedding ring glinting softly on your finger. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was staring.

You caught him once, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, something unreadable flashed across his face. "No," he said quietly. "Just getting used to the sight."

You turned your hand slightly, the light catching on the diamond. The ring was beautiful, of course -a complex design that was probably picked out by your parents and Jungkook's father rather than by either of you. It felt foreign on your finger, a constant reminder of the deal you'd made.

Jungkook's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft, almost contemplative.

You said nothing, turning your head to watch the city rush by through the window. Jungkook simply smirked, knowing that your silence was better than a sassy response from you.

When the car finally pulled up to the luxury hotel, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, feeling the cool night air brush against your skin. Jungkook followed close behind, his hand hovering near the small of your back but never quite touching.

The suite was exactly what you expected -grand and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Brandenburg Gate. A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolates waited on the marble table, while a large king-sized bed sat at the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens.

You set your bag down and turned to Jungkook, folding your arms across your chest. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the couch."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "The couch?"

"It's comfortable enough," you said, nodding toward the plush, oversized sofa near the window. "Plenty of space."

Jungkook took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "We're married now, remember? Sharing the bed won't kill us."

You scoffed lightly, crossing the room to stand by the couch. "Not happening." You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Fine. You take the bed. I'll sleep here." you rushed to say, feeling your energy consumed by the small talk you made with all the guests.

"No." his response was immediate, his tone firm. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then am I sleeping on the floor?" you arched an eyebrow "Because I won't sleep with you in the same bed".

You stared at him, daring him to argue further. But to your surprise, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'll sleep on the couch."

His sudden surrender caught you off guard. "Just like that?"

He smirked faintly, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

You watched him for a moment, suspicious of how easily he gave in, but ultimately decided not to push it. "Good. I'll get ready for bed."

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Jungkook sank onto the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions. He glanced at the wedding ring on his own hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. For all his confidence and charm, there was something strangely grounding about the weight of the band.

As much as that wasn't the way he wanted you to be by his side, it somehow made him feel good.

When you returned, dressed in something far more comfortable than your wedding gown, Jungkook was already stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

"Comfortable?" you asked, standing by the bed.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his lips quivering into a faint smile. "I've had worse."

You rolled your eyes and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. For a few moments, silence filled the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the windows.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, you heard Jungkook's voice -quiet but clear in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

You hesitated before responding, your voice soft. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

Neither of you said anything after that, but sleep didn't come easily. You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of his presence just a few feet away.

The distance between you felt both vast and dangerously fragile. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you couldn't help but wonder how long it would stay that way.

The morning started quietly -too quietly. You woke up, blinking against the soft morning light spilling into the room, only to find Jungkook already sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. His jacket was gone, and his dress shirt, slightly wrinkled from the night before, was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked far too relaxed for someone who had spent the night on a couch after your wedding.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes flicking to yours the second you stirred. His voice was calm, but there was something smug lurking just beneath the surface, as if he was already one step ahead of you.

You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to sound composed. "Morning."

A few beats of silence passed, too long to be comfortable.

"You were tossing and turning last night," Jungkook said casually, stretching his arms behind his head. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine," you lied, standing and heading for your bag. You could feel his eyes on your every move, sharp and assessing.

"You sure? You sounded restless." his voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You froze, giving him a flat look. "Were you listening to me sleep?"

He grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's hard not to when someone mutters 'This is a mistake' at 2 a.m."

Your face heated. "I did not..."

"You did." his smirk widened. "I thought about waking you up to ask what you meant, but I figured I'd let you dream about it instead."

You crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your consideration, Jungkook."

"Anything for you, love," he said, drawing out the word with deliberate sarcasm.

"You've really mastered being annoying, haven't you?" you shot back, heading toward the closet.

"Years of practice," he said, standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. "You'll get used to it."

You rolled your eyes, yanking open your suitcase with unnecessary force. "God forbid."

Jungkook chuckled under his breath, walking over to lean casually against the wall beside you. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you like this."

You turned to glare at him. "Like what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The bickering. The back-and-forth. Admit it, it's fun."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jungkook, not everything is a game. And if you think this -whatever this is- counts as fun, then we're going to have a very long, very difficult marriage."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "A long marriage... Sounds like you're planning to stick around. It does sound really good to me."

"Oh my god," you muttered, turning on your heel. "I can't do this right now."

You stalked toward the bathroom, determined to get a moment's peace.

"You're already giving up?" he called after you. "We've been married for less than 24 hours, Y/n!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm taking a shower," you snapped, slamming the bathroom door shut.

The water was a relief, washing away some of the tension, but your frustration lingered like a storm cloud. And then, halfway through shampooing your hair, you realized something.

You forgot to bring clothes.

You let out a frustrated groan, rinsing the shampoo quickly before wrapping yourself in a towel. The last thing you wanted was to ask Jungkook for help, so you cracked the door open and peeked out.

He was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for your return like some smug predator.

Of course.

You squared your shoulders and stepped out, keeping your head high as you made your way toward the bag.

Jungkook's eyes found you immediately, sweeping over your damp hair and the towel wrapped tightly around you. He didn't even try to hide it.

"Forgot something?" his voice was low and teasing.

"Not a word," you warned, grabbing your clothes.

But before you could escape back to the bathroom, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were warm, firm, and far too steady for someone who was enjoying this way too much.

"Why bother going back?" he said softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm tone that always made your pulse race. "You're already here."

You tightened your grip on your towel. "Let me go, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a slow, deliberate motion. "Why? What's the big deal? We're married now, remember?"

Your breath caught, but you forced your voice to stay steady. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned in just slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Then prove it. Get changed right here." His gaze dropped for a split second before meeting yours again, his voice barely a whisper. "Unless you're shy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not shy."

You weren't shy, but you didn't like the way your body was reacting to his voice, to his petition and his proximity. And you certainly didn't want him to see it so clearly either.

"Then go ahead," he said, his voice practically daring you.

You glared at him, yanking your wrist free. "Turn around."

"I'm not turning around" he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the fun of it if I can't see you?"

He was trying to intimidate you, challenge you to do something he thought you wouldn't dare to do, so he could then tease you about it.

Two could play that game.

You placed the clothes on the bed, next to where he was. Taking one step back, your hands were placed on both edges of the towel, slowly undoing the knot to let it pool at your feet. Jungkook gulped thick at the sight, not expecting you to actually get naked in front of him, and even less that way, and it gave you a pinch of pride at how nervous he looked for a second.

You didn't need to do anything, just that stare and the sight of your body alone was enough to awaken the most primal needs. His body responded to you, even if it had been just a second he saw you. Your humid skin, the way some drops fell from your hair and rolled down the curve of your breast to get to your hardened nipple. His mouth was watering just with the need of tasting you.

Jungkook blinked, confused at the way your hand was stretched out for him, "The panties" you mentioned as if it were obvious.

His hand moved to his left, grabbing the fabric to hand it out to you. You put them on torturously slow, covering your lower half to snap your fingers and asking him for your bra. Placing the strips on your shoulders, you turned to him, your body fitting perfectly in between his semi-parted legs as you silently asked him to tie the clasp.

Shivers ran through your body at the contact of the reverse of his fingers on your skin, his touch holding on longer than necessary, just because he liked the way you felt as he touched you a little bit too much.

You didn't need to ask, because Jungkook moved to the next item the moment you stepped away.

He should've seen it coming for him when he saw you lifting your feet, placing it on his thigh -way too close to a place where he needed you like crazy. Your fingers moved calmly, sliding the tight over your leg, up the curve of your knee, moving it past your thigh. Yet Jungkook could only focus on how your warmth spread over his skin like wildfire, making him feel you were touching him in places you were not.

When you finally stepped back to put on the other side of the tight, and the rest of clothes, Jungkook felt like he could breathe again, his control coming back to him when he was able to think straight -which also happened when you were fully clothed again.

You thought he'd hesitate or act shy, but instead his cocky attitude came back as he stood up, the height difference becoming obvious again as he towered over you.

"See how it isn't that difficult to be a good girl?" he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You'd have thrown a shoe at him if he hadn't hidden inside the bathroom immediately after airing out that response.

He was insufferable.

The car ride to Jungkook's house was quiet, tense, and far too long for your liking. The morning sun bathed the streets in gold, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere inside the vehicle. Jungkook sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you as you stared resolutely out the window.

He had been surprisingly well-behaved since the towel incident, keeping his teasing remarks to a minimum -though his occasional glances were enough to keep you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his house, your eyes widened slightly. House was an understatement. It was a sprawling modern estate with sleek glass panels, sharp architectural lines, and an air of quiet luxury.

"Home sweet home," Jungkook said, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for you with a half-smirk.

You stepped out, clutching your overnight bag tightly. "Big enough so we won't have to see each other for a whole day"

"Thanks for noticing," he quipped. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

You followed him up the steps, trying not to be too impressed as you took in the pristine interior-marble floors, minimalist décor, and massive windows that flooded the space with light.

"Kitchen's over there," Jungkook said, gesturing toward an open-concept area with gleaming countertops. "Dining room, living room... you know, standard rich-guy stuff."

"Right," you said dryly. "Because this is completely normal."

He glanced back at you with a grin. "You'll get used to it." the mockery on his tone, knowing damn too well you were used to all that luxury and more, shouldn't have been as funny as it seemed for you.

You rolled your eyes, walking a little faster to avoid his gaze. The tension from earlier was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was muted now, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation.

"Upstairs," Jungkook said, leading you to the second floor. You followed him down a hallway lined with modern artwork and huge windows, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and turned to you. "This is your room."

You blinked, caught off guard. "My... room?"

Jungkook nodded, his expression unreadable. "I figured you'd want your own space."

Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had fully expected him to make some smug comment about sharing a bed -or worse, insist on it. But there he was, offering you something you hadn't dared to hope for: distance.

"Thanks," you said quietly, stepping into the room. It was beautiful -spacious, with a king-sized bed, soft cream-colored walls, and a large window that overlooked the shared garden of the building. There was even an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and a deep soaking tub.

You indeed wouldn't need to get out there, except to eat.

"Your things are in the closet" he started. "You didn't bring a lot of things, so I guess you'll bring the rest later?"

"No, that's it" you whispered.

Jungkook stopped for a second, shocked about the fact that you only brought a medium suitcase and the bag you were carrying to pack up all of your things. It wasn't like he was expecting a full suitcase display from you, but certainly not something so minimal.

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything," Jungkook said, lingering in the doorway. His eyes softened, his earlier bravado fading just a little. "Seriously. Anything."

For a brief second, the air between you shifted. He wasn't teasing or smug. He just looked... sincere.

You hesitated, feeling the strange urge to say something more, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you gave him a small nod. "I'll be fine."

He smiled faintly, stepping back. "Alright. Settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

As he walked away, you closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then again, with Jungkook, nothing ever stayed calm for long.

The first month of marriage was nothing short of a battlefield.

It didn't take long for every small interaction to turn into a heated argument. Jungkook always had something to say -sharp and sarcastic, ready to push your buttons at every opportunity. You were no better, meeting his smug remarks with icy glares and curt responses. It became a game, a war of words and wills, with neither of you willing to surrender.

There were good moments, but they were fleeting. It started with you finding out Jungkook filled up your closet with different clothes and accessories, adding up to the small suitcase you first brought. And it slowly evolved into a laugh shared over breakfast when Jungkook nearly burned his toast. A surprisingly comfortable evening spent watching a movie in silence, where the tension seemed to ease just a little. But those moments were always overshadowed by the endless tug-of-war that followed.

It was exhausting, that constant dance of hostility and fleeting truce.

Every day felt like a test of who could push the other further without breaking. The house, despite its size, felt stifling. His presence lingered in every room -a constant reminder that your marriage was nothing more than a cage disguised as luxury.

And today, you'd had enough.

The argument started in the kitchen that morning, over something as trivial as a set of misplaced car keys. It escalated far too quickly, voices rising, accusations flying.

"You always think you can control everything," you snapped, crossing your arms.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, his jaw tightening. "Control? I'm trying to help you, but you treat everything I say like it's some personal attack."

"Because it always is!" you threw up your hands in frustration. "You don't know how to back off, Jungkook! You just keep pushing and pushing... Fuck, you don't let me breathe!"

"Maybe because you keep running away instead of facing things!" his voice dropped, low and sharp. "You're so obsessed with shutting me out that you can't even see when someone's trying to meet you halfway."

You stared at him, chest heaving, words caught in your throat. For a second, neither of you moved. The silence felt heavier than the argument itself.

Then, without a word, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs. You needed air, space, anything to escape that suffocating cycle.

In your room, you grabbed a coat and your purse, your hands trembling with frustration. Your eyes caught on your wedding ring, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of it only fueled the fire burning in your chest.

You slipped it off, the cool metal unfamiliar without the warmth of your skin beneath it. For a moment, you stared at the ring in your palm, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.

Then you set it on the dresser and walked out of the room, not bothering to look back.

Jungkook was still in the kitchen when you came back down, his back to you. You didn't say a word as you grabbed your keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

The sound of your footsteps must have caught his attention because he turned around, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

"Out," you said shortly, not slowing down.

"Without your ring?" his voice was calm, too calm. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You paused, hand on the door handle, refusing to turn around. "I need some time alone."

"And you think taking off your ring is the way to do that?" his footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. "Is this your idea of freedom?"

You finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes head-on. "What does it matter? It's not like this marriage is real anyway."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

For the first time in weeks, Jungkook didn't have a quick response. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place -hurt, maybe, or anger, or both.

"If you walk out that door without it," he said quietly, "don't expect me to come looking for you."

The threat was clear, but it only made your resolve stronger.

"Good," you said, voice steady. "That's exactly what I want."

And with that, you opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

As you walked toward your car, your heart pounded in your chest. Part of you expected him to follow, to stop you. But when you glanced back, the door was already closed.

Maybe he didn't care enough to stop you after all. Although you wouldn't think too much about it. The more he ignored you, the more freedom you'd have.

The bar was harmonized with a low hum of conversation and soft music filling the air. You had no plan when you walked in -just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but at that house. You found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and savoring the temporary escape it promised.

The alcohol warmed your throat and dulled the frustration swirling in your chest. One drink turned into two, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You look like you could use some company."

You glanced up to see a man standing beside you, his smile easy and confident. His eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

"Not really," you said, turning back to your drink.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, leaning in closer. "It's just a conversation. You shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

"I'm fine," you insisted, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

The air shifted before you could say anything else, a new presence filling the space behind you.

"She's not alone."

You froze at the familiar voice, low and commanding. Turning slightly, you found yourself face-to-face with Jungkook. His dark eyes were locked on the man, his jaw tight, his entire body radiating quiet danger.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Her husband."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot, silencing everything around you.

The man's eyes flicked between the two of you, suddenly less confident. "Right... well, my mistake." he backed away with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, though you weren't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Jungkook's eyes hadn't left you once.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice calm but laced with barely restrained frustration. "But I guess taking off your ring and disappearing without a word answers that for me."

"I needed space," you said, crossing your arms. "You don't own me, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened. "You're right. I don't. But I'm still your husband. If you disappear in the middle of the night, I'll come looking for you. And if some creep thinks he can hit on you, then I'm going to do something about it."

You rolled your eyes, the alcohol emboldening you. "So this is about your ego?"

He took a step closer, the tension crackling between you. "No. It's about the fact that I care, whether you want to believe it or not."

His words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Let's go," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "It's late."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said stubbornly, turning back toward the bar.

Jungkook let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. You want to be difficult? Have it your way."

Before you could react, his arm looped around your waist, and in one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Jungkook!" you gasped, pounding your fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Heads turned, curious eyes following the scene as you squirmed in his grip. "You brought this on yourself."

"Jungkook, I swear to God..."

"You can yell all you want," he said calmly. "We're leaving."

Once outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks -from anger or embarrassment, you weren't sure. Jungkook carried you all the way to his car, finally setting you down beside it.

"You're insane," you snapped, your breath coming fast as you straightened your clothes.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I thought you'd have learned to love it by now."

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a standoff.

"Get in the car," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

Your pride told you to refuse, to stand your ground and make this even more difficult. But something about the intensity in his eyes made you falter.

Wordlessly, you opened the car door and got in, your pulse still racing.

Jungkook slid into the driver's seat, starting the car without another word. The ride home was silent, the air between you charged with tension. You could feel his occasional glances, the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel every time your bare finger caught the light.

The ride home was silent. He didn't speak, and neither did you. But the weight of everything unsaid filled the car, pressing down on you both.

When you pulled up in front of the building, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low. "But if you want to leave, really leave, just say it. I'll let you go."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time you'd seen him drop his guard like this.

But instead of answering, you opened the door and stepped out, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook stayed in the car for a moment before following you inside. Neither of you said a word as you climbed the stairs, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reached your room, you paused in the doorway, glancing back at him.

"Goodnight," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

For once, Jungkook didn't have a clever comeback. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should have.

"Goodnight," he echoed, his voice rough around the edges.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you -something neither of you was ready to admit yet.

The tension between you and Jungkook had been palpable since that night. Every word, every glance, felt like a battle -a silent war that neither of you was willing to lose. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you found yourself trapped at one of his company's lavish parties, drowning in champagne and meaningless small talk.

It wasn't your kind of crowd. Polished executives and their equally polished partners swirled around you, exchanging pleasantries and hollow laughs. Being the accessory of the main character of the party wasn't your thing at all. You stood near the bar, sipping your drink, counting down the minutes until you could escape.

That's when you saw him, Jungkook, standing at the center of a group of people, commanding their attention with ease. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

And then you noticed her.

She was standing beside him, too close, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. A striking woman in a sleek red dress, her eyes sparkled with something far more than professional interest.

Your grip on your glass tightened as you watched her lean in, whispering something into his ear. To your horror, Jungkook didn't pull away. Instead, he turned toward her with a slow smile, his eyes dropping deliberately to her lips before meeting hers again.

It was a calculated move -one meant for your benefit. You knew it. He knew it.

Your stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something far more dangerous bubbling in your chest. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

You turned your back to him, willing yourself to focus on the conversation happening nearby. It was meaningless chatter, something about stock prices, but you latched onto it, pretending you didn't notice the way your pulse was racing.

"Jealous, love?"

The voice was low and teasing, right behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hardly," you said, taking a sip of your drink without looking at him. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."

"Is that so?" Jungkook stepped into your line of vision, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your drink at her."

"More like two seconds away from smacking this glass on your head" you finally sentenced.

"That does sound like someone who's jealous"

You forced a smile, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please. If I wanted to make a scene, you'd know it."

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Careful, Y/n. You might give me the wrong idea: that you actually care about me and what I do."

Your pulse jumped, but you refused to let him win. "Trust me, I don't." you narrowed your eyes while looking at him "Just be careful of how you behave in front of everyone. We're still married. In private, do whatever the fuck you please".

His smile was slow, almost predatory. "Good. Because I'd hate for you to get hurt playing a game you can't win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You couldn't stop watching him: laughing, smiling, always with her by his side. Each glance felt like a deliberate push, a challenge to see how far you'd let him go.

By the time the party started winding down, you'd had enough. You grabbed your purse and made your way toward the exit, your steps quick and determined.

But before you could leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Running away again?" Jungkook's voice was calm, but his grip was firm.

"Let go," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

"Not until you admit it." His eyes locked onto yours, the amusement gone, replaced by something far more serious.

"Admit what?"

"That you care," he said simply.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with fury. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here you are," Jungkook said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Still standing in front of me". You didn't know when he stepped so close that your chests were pressed together and your breaths were mixing between you two "I'm only yours, love. You just need to ask me, and I'll declare to you my love without thinking twice".

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the party noise a distant hum. You hated how close he was, how easily he could get under your skin.

But you refused to give him what he wanted. Not tonight.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The air between you felt like a loaded gun, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Jungkook's hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window in stubborn silence.

The tires crunched on the gravel as the car came to a stop in front of the building. You didn't wait for him to say anything -didn't even glance his way as you pushed the door open and strode toward the front entrance.

But the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you, steady and deliberate, made your pulse quicken.

You barely made it inside when Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.

"Care to explain what that little stunt at the party was all about?" his tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You spun around, glaring at him. "Are you seriously accusing me of something after what you pulled tonight? Flirting with her right in front of me?"

Jungkook smirked, stepping closer. "You noticed."

"Of course I noticed!" you snapped, your voice rising. "You made sure I would."

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Maybe. But you didn't have to leave the party like that, running off again like you always do. It's getting old, Y/n."

"Maybe it's because I can't stand being around you," you shot back, your voice trembling slightly with the force of your anger. "Did you think of that?"

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. "No," he said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. "I think you left because it bothered you. Because for once, you didn't have control, and it drove you crazy."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?" his voice was a whisper now, low and deliberate, each word wrapping around you like a challenge. "Then why are you shaking?"

You hated him for being right. Hated how easily he could strip away every layer of defense you had built.

"I'm not..."

"You are," he interrupted, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "And it's not because you're angry. It's because you feel something."

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out.

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before locking onto yours again. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll back off," he said softly. "Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll stop."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.

But you couldn't say it.

The words wouldn't come.

Jungkook's smile was slow and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious, your skin still burning from his touch.

"You're insufferable," you called after him, but your voice wavered, the heat of your frustration blending with something far more dangerous.

Jungkook stopped mid-step, his back still to you. For a split second, you thought he'd ignore you, that he'd let you stew in your own whirlwind of emotions.

But then he turned, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were measured, each one bringing him closer, the air between you thick with electricity.

"You know what's really insufferable?" his voice was low, almost a growl. "The way you keep running. The way you keep fighting me when we both know exactly how this will end."

Your breath caught in your throat as he came to a stop just inches from you, his body radiating warmth, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm not running," you said, though it sounded more like a whisper than the firm declaration you intended.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His touch was light, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of heat racing through you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat. His lips crashed against yours, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss was anything but gentle -wild, desperate, and filled with every bit of frustration and desire that had built up between you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing grounding you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

It felt better than anything neither of you could've ever imagined. It wasn't just a kiss -it was a battle, a collision of everything you didn't say, everything you'd tried to ignore.

His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You gasped when he sank his tongue in your mouth, quickly meeting yours at the same time he cornered you on the wall next to the door, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before moving it back to your neck.

You hated him for making you feel this way, for always knowing how to push you to the edge and catch you before you fell.

But at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths were ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

"Say it," Jungkook whispered, his voice rough and breathless. "Say you don't feel anything."

You stayed silent, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

But the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your body leaned into his, spoke louder than any words ever could.

He took your silence as the perfect answer, smirking to himself before he linked your lips together again. His fingers sank in your hair at the back of your head, twirling them on some locks to pull from them and throw your head to the side as he kissed you down your neck.

"You're absolutely everything I've ever fucking dreamed of" he heavily whispered on your skin. "I want to admire you, worship your body and make love to you so you'd meet a devotion you had never seen in your life. But hell... when you look at me that way..." his thumb brushed over your cheekbone "I want to ruin you so bad, show you no one will fuck you so good to make your ears beep so loud you won't be hearing your own pleas when you ask me to stop".

Your kiss grew more passionate, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, when he kissed you again. His hands began to wander, tracing the curve of your back, the swell of your hips. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and it sent a thrill through you, craving for something you didn't know you were desperate for. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself against him, at the same time his hands held your hips to keep your body glued to him.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck again, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You arched my back, a soft sigh escaping your lips, when his fingers brushed against the little skin that was shown off through the cleavage of your dress. It frustrated you, but it also felt so good the way your body responded to his touch without a resistance, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra, your entrance clenching around nothing as you kept waiting to feel him inside you.

When he looked down at you once again, his hands moved down to the zip of your dress, his thumb brushing on your skin while his other fingers slid the material down. He didn't need to ask you, he didn't need to tell you, you helped him take off your dress.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching. You were definitely better than he could've ever imagined. No light pajamas would ever compare to the vision in front of him.

You reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling from the buttons to reveal his toned chest. Jungkook had to hold back the growl in his throat when you ran your fingers over the muscles, feeling the heat of his skin, making him sure your fingerprints were burning every inch you were moving through.

He wasn't going to let you take control so easily though.

He lowered his head all of a sudden, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth through the lace of your bra. You gasped, your hands fisting in his hair as a way to control your own self. He teased and suckled, his other hand cupping your breast before he dragged his fingers down with the fabric, exposing the flesh, his thumb rubbing against your nipple before he pinched it with his index. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for more.

Jungkook slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and hands. He made you squirm beneath him, he filled your head with pleas you never thought would ever be aimed at him, your body was on fire for him.

You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He lifted his hips to help you, his jeans and boxers coming off in one swift motion. You looked down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of his hard length. He was thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips when a sudden urge to taste him overwhelmed you. Was it how sexy he actually was? Or how bad you wanted him to beg for you and finally accept you were in control? Maybe both?

You leaned down on your knees, not wasting a moment before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around him. You sucked and licked, your head bobbing up and down at a tortuous speed. You could feel him getting harder, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper when he pushed you lower, your nose brushing against his skin to look up to him.

And hell, if that image wasn't the best sight ever...

He pulled you up with one swift motion, your lips still parted to the size of his length when he crashed his lips against yours again. Your back slammed against the door, and your head banged against it the moment he pulled your panties down and slid two fingers in you. His thumb brushed over your clit gently, slowly, which was opposite to the way his curved digits moved and rubbed against your walls.

He earned another moan from you, and his cock twitched in the air against your body once more.

"Who do you belong to, Y/n? Who owns you now?" his voice was thick and raspy as he whispered. His voice was a mix of cockiness and need to prove you always belonged to him.

The moment you tried to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around your throat and stuck your head against the wood to keep your eyes fixed on him.

You didn't know what to do with your arms, how to keep yourself on your feet, but you did know you had to keep your eyes fixed on him.

"My love" he almost sang when he felt the way your walls clenched around him and your clit throbbing "I've only been yours" his digits squeezed your throat tighter, unaware of how that dragged you closer to your orgasm.

Your body squirmed and folded under his grip when that hurricane hit you, yet he didn't stop. His movements were more delicate and slower, but he fingered you through your orgasm until he felt your breathing settling again.

Your lips were parted when his wet fingers slid through them, and you blindly obeyed, closing your mouth around his digits to lick every drop of his work of art. Jungkook barely gave you time to let go of them before his lips crashed against yours again, his tongue looking out for yours to taste you directly on it.

You were so addictive.

Jungkook picked you up effortlessly, humming at your legs wrapping around his waist, as he made his way to his bedroom.

When he let you down on his mattress, he couldn't help but admire the way your naked skin stood out so clearly while lying over his sheets, dying to twirl his fingers on those locks spread over his pillow. You brought in him a feral attitude he didn't know was so strong.

You looked up to him, eager for what was to come, your body ready to jump as he kneeled on the bed and crawled to you. His hands parted your legs easily, resting your calves on his thighs when he redirected his length to you.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, making your moan. "You're so wet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Will you let me fill you up? Hmm?" he looked up to you while still rubbing himself against you "Let me mark you now that you've finally accepted that you're mine".

His words, the idea, the look in his eyes... all of them influenced you to finally nod.

He slid into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. He felt big, bigger than you could've guessed when you took him in your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until your hips met and you both moaned with relief.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, giving the two of you time to get used to each other before he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing around you. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight and wet." he rubbed his nose on yours. "It was really worth it to wait for you".

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Harder," you whispered, your body aching for more.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing in anticipation.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit at the same time his lips found your mouth. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He continued to move, his own body tensing as he chased his own release. You felt him getting harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a final thrust, he groaned, his body shaking as he came deep inside you, his load hitting a deep spot.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies slick with sweat, your breaths ragged. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. And as much as that feeling felt foreign, you didn't push it away. Instead, you snuggled closer to him.

The weeks after that night were nothing like the stormy start of your marriage. Slowly, without even realizing it, you began to lower your defenses. Jungkook softened in his own way, his sharp-edged words losing their sting, replaced by warm glances and lingering touches.

It wasn't love -at least, that's what you told yourself- but it was something dangerously close. You found comfort in his presence, in the late-night conversations you shared after you agreed on sharing bed with him, the stolen moments of laughter, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

The night he was officially named the head of the company, the entire building was alive with celebration. People congratulated him left and right, raising glasses in his honor, praising his charm, his brilliance, and his unstoppable rise to power. You stood by his side, smiling softly as he greeted his investors and thanked his board.

But despite the glamour, something felt off. Jungkook was different -detached, colder than usual, like the man you first met. He didn't seem to notice your growing unease.

Later that evening, after slipping away for a moment to get some air, you made your way down a quieter hallway in the building. As you rounded a corner, voices stopped you in your tracks.

It was Jungkook's.

"You're really settling into this husband role, huh?" the voice was familiar -Eunwoo's, you realized after a second.

His tone was light and teasing, but it was what came next that made your blood run cold.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle. "Don't get carried away. This marriage means nothing. It was a deal, plain and simple. I finally got what I wanted"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a glass clinking.

"And the rest?" Eunwoo asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Sleeping with her?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering painfully in your chest.

"That's just part of the game," Jungkook said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Keeping her close keeps everything in control. She's predictable now. She's exactly where I need her."

Your vision blurred, your mind racing to process what you'd just heard. Every moment you'd spent with him, every touch, every whispered word in the dark -it had all been a lie. A calculated move in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway, cutting into you like a blade.

You turned and walked away before they could notice you, your steps quick and unsteady. Your chest ached, a painful mix of anger and heartbreak constricting your lungs.

By the time you reached the main hall, the noise of the party felt like a distant hum, your surroundings spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

You thought you had started to know him. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between you.

But you were wrong.

You were nothing more than a pawn in his game -a game you never agreed to play.

The rest of the night at the party, you avoided him like the plague, your attitude a huge contrast to how you behaved when the night had started. Whenever Jungkook tried to approach you, you found an excuse to step away -chatting with guests, refreshing your drink, even pretending to admire the floral arrangements like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Y/n" his voice caught you off guard as you lingered near the exit, your hand brushing the stem of an untouched champagne flute. Jungkook's dark eyes studied you, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on? You've been distant all night."

"I'm just tired," you said flatly, forcing a tight smile. "It's been a long day."

His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Not yet.

The ride home was quiet -tense in a way that made the air between you feel suffocating. Jungkook sat beside you, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, as if waiting for you to explain what was wrong. But you kept your gaze fixed out the window, your thoughts swirling in chaos.

Once you were back home, you made a beeline for the stairs, wanting nothing more than to put distance between you as you closed yourself back in your room.

"Y/n" his voice was sharp now, demanding. You stopped halfway up the stairs, your hand gripping the banister tightly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze. The man you had once started to trust, the one who had held you so tenderly just nights ago, now felt like a stranger.

"I want a divorce."

The words fell from your lips with a finality that hung heavy in the air.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "You finally got what you wanted. You're head of the company now. There's no need to keep up this farce anymore."

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think? That this was all just some business arrangement, and now it's over?"

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You've gotten everything you wanted, Jungkook. There's no point in pretending anymore."

"You're unbelievable," he growled, stepping closer. "You want to throw everything away just like that? After everything we've been through?"

You laughed bitterly. "What exactly have we been through, Jungkook? Lies? Manipulation? This marriage was never real. It was just a means to an end for you."

His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And what if it wasn't?"

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him sway you. "It doesn't matter. I'm done."

"You're not done," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to decide that impulsively."

"It's not an impulse," you snapped. "This was part of our deal since the beginning. I've made up my mind."

Jungkook's eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else -something raw and unguarded. "And when exactly did you make up your mind about it, huh?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think it's better for both of us," you said, ignoring the way your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

But Jungkook wasn't having it. His hand gripped the banister beside you, his body blocking your path. "No," he said firmly. "We're not done. Not until I say we are. And you're not leaving," Jungkook said, his voice steady but barely restrained, his body now fully blocking your path. His gaze locked onto yours, fierce and unrelenting.

"Move, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, trying to push past him. "I'm done having this conversation."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist -not hard, but firm enough to keep you from walking away. "No. We're going to finish this right here"

You glared at him, your pulse racing. "What's the point? You made it clear I was just a means to an end. Now that you're head of the company, what reason is there for us to stay married?"

"Because this isn't just about the company!" Jungkook snapped, his voice rising, frustration boiling over. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, he looked genuinely unhinged, like he was losing control of everything he'd carefully built.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "Then what is it about? What part of this marriage was real to you? Tell me!"

His silence was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face for something -anything. But no words came.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Exactly. You can't even answer that."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his frustration tipping into something dangerously possessive. "You really want to know what's real?" he said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. "You." his voice was low, his eyes burning into yours. "Every damn second with you was real"

But for some reason, those words that night felt like the most painful stab at your chest. If there was something clear to you that night, it was that Jungkook never really cared for you, but his own control over you. That idea alone made your head spin, trying to decipher if all of his words in that moment were part of the act as well.

His proximity sent a jolt of heat through you, but you refused to back down. "Words mean nothing, Jungkook. Actions do."

"Then watch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It wasn't soft or sweet -it was raw and consuming, a war between his frustration and desire. His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You tried to fight it, to remind yourself of everything you'd just overheard, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It felt like drowning, like falling too fast and too far, and you hated how easily he could unravel you.

When he finally pulled back, your hand slapped across his face, making it turn. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, until he finally moved his head back up, his eyes searching yours, dark and unreadable. "You think I don't care?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're wrong."

Your heart thundered in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, you believed him. You believed every word, every touch. But the sting of his earlier betrayal still lingered, refusing to let go.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not like this".

Not when you couldn't trust him, or know what he was saying was real or not. Not knowing when he was playing with you or showing off his feelings.

It was too much.

Jungkook's grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Yes, you can. You're not leaving."

"I don't want to be near you" you let go of his grip once again. "You disgust me. I can't even stand being near you right now. Who knows? Maybe it had always been like that and now that the reason that kept us together is gone I can be honest with the two of us. Be honest with yourself, too".

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the marble countertops. You sat at the kitchen island, quietly picking at your lunch, your mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Sleep had been elusive -every word, every touch, every kiss replaying in your head on an endless loop.

You were lost in thought when the sound of the front door slamming snapped you back to reality. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers. He strode over to you and threw them onto the counter in front of you, the crisp white pages fanning out across the surface.

Your heart stopped for a second as you glanced down at them: "Divorce Agreement". Signed.

"You wanted this, right?" Jungkook said, his voice cold and biting. "There. You've got it. Congratulations, you're free."

You looked up at him, stunned into silence, your fork frozen in mid-air. His eyes were like shards of ice, his usual warmth completely gone. He looked almost... victorious, but underneath it, you could sense something else, some of his vulnerability was still obvious in his eyes.

"Jungkook, I..."

"You don't need to say anything" he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "You made it clear last night that this marriage means nothing to you. So, I'm giving you what you want. No more pretending. No more games."

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you struggled to find your voice. "You think this is what I want?" you finally said, your voice trembling.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked for the divorce. I'm just making it easy for you."

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. "You're unbelievable."

Jungkook crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a bitter smirk. "No, what's unbelievable is that you think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you want. You're the one who pushed me away, Y/n. I'm just giving you the freedom you begged for."

"Don't you dare act like you're some kind of victim here," you snapped, rising to your feet. "You lied to me, acting like you cared, like you were into me. You said you were after me long before all of this happened... Bullshit! You used me for your business, just like you admitted to Eunwoo. But I was dumb as fuck to believe we were more than that".

His eyes flickered with something -surprise, perhaps, or regret- but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same infuriating calm. "So, that's what this is about," he muttered. "You overhear one conversation, twist it in your head, and suddenly I'm the villain?"

"I didn't twist anything," you said, your voice shaking. "I heard exactly what you said. That I'm just a pawn in your game. That sleeping with me was just part of your plan. Hope you enjoyed the bit of control you had while you fucked me."

Jungkook laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You really think that's all you are to me?"

"Isn't it?" you challenged, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The silence that followed was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"You already made up your mind," he said quietly. "So what's the point in convincing you otherwise?"

Your breath caught in your throat, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to tear down the walls he had so carefully built around himself in less than a few days. But instead, all you could do was stand there, your heart breaking all over again.

"Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "If that's how you want it."

He nodded once, his face devoid of emotion. "It's what you wanted, remember?"

Annoyed, you reached for a pen, signing up the papers next to him, slamming it against the table before getting up and walking away, leaving the papers on the counter in front of him. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house, and for the first time since the start of your marriage, you felt truly alone.

#armpirate #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #reader insert #one shot #jungkooksmut #jksmut #jk smut #arranged marriage au

1K notes · View notes

onlyswan · 11 months ago

Text

summary: in which there is never enough time to be in love but jungkook is a 24/7 lover. (part one)

idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 3.6k

warnings/content: jungkook takes a day off and surprises oc <3 ; he's veryyy touchy; he gives oc's boobie a lil bite lol this guy ; s*xual innuendos; one (1) spank; oc comforts him :(; bam is home too!!; family is complete

→ in which masterlist!

note: smth short and sweet so i can recover from dreamboat loool missed my babies sm <3 as always reblog and/or feedback is very much appreciated! <3

p.s. i'm also redoing my iw taglist so pls comment/send an ask if you want to be (re)/added!

—

“baby? i’m home.”

you’re confident to say that you’d never mistake jungkook’s voice for anyone else’s. and on that note, you must be dreaming of him— the voice of an angel, the calloused palms cupping your cheeks… the audible and damp kisses delicately being peppered all over your face. everything feels so real. too real. just like how it used to be.

it hasn’t been long since you last saw him. you communicate and meet whenever it’s possible, no matter how short the time he is allowed to dedicate. still, you miss him all the time, everyday. you keep telling yourself it’s not that bad. time is passing by faster than you feared. but this whole set-up is foreign and daunting. and you miss him. you miss him all the time. that must be why you’re dreaming.

when you open your eyes in the morning, you’ve come to expect nothing more than the view of the plain white ceiling, or the sunlight peeking from behind the curtains.

so why are you gawking at jungkook’s face?

he smiles from ear-to-ear, bunny teeth and crinkles around his eyes— you can’t be mistaken. it’s him. it feels as though your heart has been shocked and revived.

“jungkook!” you gasp.

you startle your own self when you abruptly throw your arms around him. he tries to hold you up, but you’re far too ecstatic for your own good, inexplicable joy thrumming in your veins and fireworks bursting in your ribcage. you squeal and jump up and down on the bed like a little kid on christmas morning; jungkook hugs you back tighter than he has ever done before, protecting you from the fall and crash.

“oh my god, you’re here! you’re here!”

“yes, i’m here-” he laughs in amusement. “ow shit, settle down- wow, it’s so early. why are you so energetic-”

“i missed you!” you briefly pause for oxygen. “so much! i’m never letting go of you again!”

“wow!” he makes a dramatic wheezing sound. “that much, baby? you missed me that much?”

“that much!”

you draw back with a pout, just enough so you can look at each other, nodding your head probably too fast— you’re almost dizzy. adrenaline tide calming into waves, you’re catching your breath.

are you certain that this is not your imagination playing tricks on you?

“you’re here…” you slowly say. it’s only registering to your whiplashed brain. there is barely any feeling in your arms as you touch his face, an attempt at separating wishful thinking and reality. “why are you here?”

“why else?” he grins toothily. “because you said you were missing me.”

your attempt at forming words is rudely interrupted. he steals a kiss, this thief… hard and hungry, keeping you in place by his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

he pulls away with a satisfied hum, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “and because i was missing you more.”

for a moment, you gaze at each other in silence. you’re still neck deep in disbelief and euphoria. that kiss took your breath away. under the circumstances, you shall yield and admit that he misses you more. he requests for developed photos of you when you come visit. that’s something you never imagined you’d have to do.

he tries to tame your messy hair, smoothing it down until he’s holding your cheeks lovingly. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? i miss waking up to this pretty face everyday.”

you pucker your lips in response, demanding for a kiss. this earns a chuckle from him before he grants your wish. an unintelligible noise of joy escapes your mouth as you jump and hug him again. it is shortly followed by a yelp when he whisks you off the bed without warning, spinning you ‘round and ‘round… ‘round… and ‘round… and…

your laughter soon transforms into horror.

“jungkook!” you scream with your eyes squeezed shut and your legs curled around his waist. “okay! stop it! i’m getting dizzy!”

the crazy bastard keeps on giggling as if he doesn’t hear a thing. you always expect these reunions to be so emotional, but when jungkook is here, it feels as though he never left.

“jungkook!”

you hook your leg around his, causing the two of you to collapse on the soft mattress. you land on top of him with a whimper. you breathe out a sigh, relieved that the nausea-inducing ride is over.

“that was fun.” he speaks next to your ear; the sensation makes you squirm.

“it was,” you push yourself up to search for more air, a little sweaty after yours and jungkook’s hyperness took control of your bodies. “for the first five seconds.”

you’re now properly straddling him, ass on his crotch. it’s accidental, but nothing new. nay, comfortable. this level of proximity won’t feel like intimacy with somebody else. goddamn, you missed your boyfriend so much.

a big, sleepy yawn zaps your attention from him. you cover your face with both hands, wandering into the darkness for a little while. you find that your mind is devoid of any thought. perhaps you’re more overwhelmed than you let on.

“missed this view too…” he reveals amidst the haze, a distinct change in the tone of his voice.

there they are— the butterflies in his stomach, slaves to you and only you. he breathes through his parted lips as he caresses your thighs with tenderness bleeding from his fingertips, your skin so smooth and soft in contrast to his calloused palms. his lips curve into a drunken smile when you graze his greedy hands, as though granting them permission, before they slip inside the magenta velvet of your night dress. the material bunches over his forearms as he reaches for your hips. it leaves almost nothing to the imagination (in his case: memory). his attention is stolen by your cotton panties. light taupe. decorated by white polka dots.

“this one’s new.” he comments.

you peer down to figure out what he meant. right, he’s never seen this before. “surprise! you like it?”

“yes, it’s cute.” he toys with the little ribbon at the center of the waistband. “you rarely get this color.”

“thanks. i think my taste is changing.”

“really?”

“mhmm…”

his hands venture up to your waist, kneading at the flesh and reacquainting with the feel of you. he’s been pissed off at the thought of forgetting what it feels like to touch you, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he hasn’t been away from you for extended periods of time since their last tour. that was years ago.

for maximum comfort, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “let’s move here.” he carries you with him, back comfortable leaning against the headboard, while you remain sitting pretty on his lap. “bam was sleeping on my side of the bed when i arrived.”

“huh…?” you blink.

“you didn’t know?”

you shake your head innocently, a tad distracted by your eyes roaming his naked torso. he looks absolutely ravishing as ever. did something already change from the last time you saw him?

“i tucked him into his bed last night.”

you visited bam at the training facility after work yesterday, but he kept trying to follow you as you were leaving. your fragile heart caved and you brought him home for the weekend. you texted jungkook about it but he didn’t respond; as much as that made you sad, you figured he was just tired or he used his phone time to talk to his family.

you spent the whole night playing with bam and watching his favorite dog entertainment channel on youtube. the house wasn’t dead silent for once. you fell asleep together on the couch until you woke up at 2am and tucked him and yourself into your respective beds. it was easy to fall back to sleep after, but it felt weird that you didn’t need an audiobook or hours of calming sounds of nature.

you’re not whining. there have been a lot of sunny and happy days. you have wonderful people in your life who act as your support system in their own unique ways, but jungkook and bam… they’re your family. you made your peace with no longer having one, but now that you’ve built your own, having to be apart from them makes your heart ache.

“did he sneak in to sleep next to you? he does that now?” he makes a surprised face. “what’s this? i’m so jealous of him!”

a pinch in your heart.

you try your best to conceal a frown, but your poor choice of words paints your disappointment. “you’re not-” you avoid his eyes. “staying the night?”

“yah, you don’t have to look so sad. i can stay, baby.”

“you can?” your face lights up.

“for you, i’ll make it happen.” he cheeses, affectionately tapping the tip of your nose like it’s a button to make you smile. “i’m only working hard in there to earn more days off, you know that?”

that makes you frown.

“babe, don’t do that…” you whine, shaking his shoulders. “you don’t need to work so hard. only do what is required of you. i just want you to be healthy.”

“no… just let me.” he replies with finality. “i need… i need a reason. you’re the reason why i’m still hanging in there, and i don’t want to miss another anniversary.”

he bats his eyelashes.

“being your boyfriend is my favorite job in the whole world.”

and how are you supposed to argue with one of his most heart-fluttering, most wholesome lines yet?

you sigh in defeat. “then you can rest when you’re with me.”

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

you lean in to kiss him, but are interrupted when he yawns. your forehead ends up resting against his as you giggle uncontrollably at the unexpected and hilarious view of his open mouth.

“sleepy?”

he bows his head in embarrassment, body vibrating with laughter. “i couldn’t sleep because i was so excited. i wanted to talk to you last night but i was so sure i’d spoil the surprise.”

“of course you couldn’t.” you giggle, removing yourself from his lap while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “come here. let’s sleep some more.”

you lie down on the bed facing each other. jungkook moans in contentment as you engulf him in your embrace, nuzzling his face against your chest. he can smell your body wash, sweet and clean. that— that isn’t new. every muscle in his body decompresses. he needed this, needed you. desperately. tremendously. you pull the thick and warm blanket over yourselves and he melts. while he wishes he was taller, he knows he is still of considerable height. he’s been bulking up, getting stronger than before too. but he doesn’t give a fuck about those at the moment. he’s not even aware. his body fits perfectly with yours— that’s all he knows. oh… he’s melting. but it doesn’t feel like he’s being reduced. he has everything to gain. this is heaven on earth.

he opens his eyes into an awful squint, faced by your cleavage spilling out from the neckline of your night dress. there’s this urge he can’t ignore. it’s not spelt out in his mind, he rather feels like his body is having a fit. next thing he knows, he’s carefully sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the swell of your boob. he stays still for a few seconds, and then pulls away once he deems himself satisfied. he wipes your skin with his thumb incase he left some saliva, innocent eyes peeking up at you huffing out a quiet laugh.

“you sure that’s all you needed?”

“i’ll devour you later.” he smirks, blinking sluggishly. “i’m tired but just you wait. i’ll go all night!”

“not if i beat you to it…” you tease, having plans of your own. you want to make him feel good. you’ve been going insane thinking about it. “missed you.”

“alright then, let’s do it at the same time.” he says suggestively.

“you know i have a hard time focusing when we do that.” you huff.

“eh, so? not me.” he chuckles. “i think you do a really great job, though?”

“…still! go easy on me a little bit so i can do better.”

“it’s not a competition, baby.” he squeezes your waist affectionately. “plus, i don’t think i’d be able to control myself once i get a taste.”

“jungkook!” you whine, growing flustered.

he laughs out loud, giving your ass a quick spank that resounds through the walls of the bedroom.

it becomes silent again after that.

the tip of your nails graze his scalp with repeated movements, more so for your amusement, but he is practically purring. you can’t imagine your arm being a comfortable pillow either, but he is doing great at making it appear so.

“i realized something.”

“what is it?”

“i really can’t live without you.” he confesses earnestly, then looks up at you with raised eyebrows. “don’t say anything. i know you’ll say something like ‘yes, you can!’”

“i was not. i liked hearing you say it.” you stifle a giggle. “but i’m not going anywhere. you know that.”

“i don’t doubt that.” he sighs with a heavy chest. “sometimes i just get a bit worried that you’d get tired of waiting.”

this isn’t the first time in your relationship that he’s voicing out this fear, but the difference between then and now is stark. with the disconnection, there was a part of you that expected it to resurface.

“babe,” you gently tilt up his face, locking your sincere and love-filled eyes with his. “we’re okay. i’ve loved you since i was 18. this? this is nothing. you’re a part of me, so you’re always with me. and i know you keep me with you too.”

you wear a brave face. you hope that he believes your words as much as you do, because no matter how many boulders the universe throws down your path, all you ever think about is how you and jungkook will surmount them. together. he is your partner after all.

“we’ll get through it like we always do, baby boy.”

jungkook nods and smiles, doe eyes glittering. you love making that happen. “sorry, i think i scared myself when i read stories on the internet.”

“our story is different!”

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“no, seriously-” he cackles, a little breathless.

“we’re one of a kind!” you keep the joke running. you want to keep making him laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds longer.

“we’ve gone through so much bullshit. not everyone would fight as hard as we did!” jungkook passionately agrees with the same intensity. “you’re right, we always make it work. we’ll get through it like we always do.”

“trust me,” you charmingly implore him. “when was i ever wrong?”

“never!” he immediately shakes his head. “…atleast not about the things that matter.”

“okay,” you shrug. “i’ll take it.”

“goodnight kiss, please.” he cutely pleads.

wild guess: he went home to be babied. not that you’re complaining. this is miles better than having to wrestle him over who gets to be the big spoon. you love giving love. when your heart stops beating, it would be great to celebrate how much you were loved, but you also wish to be remembered as a person who gave love until their last breath.

“goodnight, my love.” you coo, well aware that the sun has risen.

you plant a tender kiss on his forehead. the complaint bubbling in his throat is swallowed when you lean in closer to reach his lips. with his wish fulfilled, he flutters his eyes closed and snuggles as close to you as possible, real and proper rest finally within his grasp. he basks in your warmth and the tranquilizing silence— his breathing steady and his heart at its calmest. beautiful things enter his mind. you are the sun on the first spring day; the clouds that go with him no matter the distance; the waves that kiss the shore and never fail to come back. he heals in places he didn’t know he was hurting.

“hold on, where is bam then?”

“his house. i gave him some treats then he slept again…” his voice comes out muffled. he sniffles jokingly. “the reaction was kind of underwhelming. i think he didn’t miss me as much.”

“of course he’d choose that over a human.”

“i bribed him too early.” he laments.

“wait…” he feels you come to a still. “i think he’s coming.”

he opens his eyes and copies you in focusing on the familiar sound of bam’s paws clicking against the floor. the mattress quakes and he lifts his head to find the dog climbing over your bodies.

he’s seriously a large and tall dog.

“bam, what are you doing here?!”

bam tilts his head and stares back at jungkook, tail wagging as his dad laughs and pets him on the head down to his back.

“he’s so adorable.” you squeal quietly, joining in and scratching under his chin. “i love you, bam.”

bam’s eyes switch to you. he slowly lowers his head, giving your hand a tentative lick as if to show appreciation but he’s also worried that it would prompt you to stop.

“he’s gotten real heavy, huh?”

“he’s got some big muscles like you.”

“of course! he got it from me.”

jungkook’s proud smile drops a little. it morphs into pure fondness once bam starts sniffing at him. he yelps and dramatically falls back, wiping his wet cheek with the back of his hand, but it’s game over once bam pants with excitement. bam chases his face to attack him with his love language.

you watch the scene from the sidelines, laughing so hard that your sides are beginning to hurt. you wish you were recording. you wish that you never forget this.

“okay, okay! you’re happy to see me! i see that now!” jungkook laughs, squeezing bam in a tight hug for a moment.

the dog still refuses to relent, however. they almost look like they’re fighting to the death but the truth is they’re just smothering each other with affection. unbeknownst to them, you make a pained face when one of them accidentally hits your arm multiple times. nevermind, they were definitely both culprits.

“____! save me!” your boyfriend cries out.

he bulldozes through bam and shoves himself into the tiny space he previously, and peacefully, occupied minutes before. he’s squeezing you so tight, nearly crushing you as he laughs with tears in his eyes. they affectionately call it his elmo laugh, the fans, which you adore just as much.

you see it before you hear it. bam makes that face when he’s about to bark. your hush comes out at the same exact second as his barking.

“this is so chaotic!” you try to project your voice louder than everybody else’s.

jungkook’s laughs quieter but harder, if that makes any sense.

you have an arm around jungkook that holds him taut and protected, while the other is busy with getting bam to settle down. you slide your palm across his fur in repeated motions, focusing on the spots that cause his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“shhh, bam. it’s still too early. let daddy rest first. we can tire him out again later, okay?”

he settles on top of your bodies again. he has stopped moving around, but then he makes that face again, and you really love your healthy sense of hearing.

“behave, bam-” you playfully squeeze his cheeks together before scratching under his chin. “my cutie bam. you can do that for me, right? you’re a good boy! i’m sure you understand.”

he abandons the urge to bark, suddenly fixing his position so you can also scratch at his chest. you almost snort at how funny he looked obeying you on accident because he is begging to be petted.

“that’s right. good job, bam.” you coo, sending him a pleased smile. “you’re so smart. you listen so well.”

you whisper to jungkook. “it’s so cute when it looks like he really understands what i’m saying.”

“it’s the way you talk to him.” he answers quietly, placing tiny kisses along your collarbone. “you’re so sweet.” he almost forgot how good you are with bam. he just fell in love with you all over again.

“but it’d be cooler if he does understand me.” you hum, moving your hand on bam’s head. he finally decides to flop down then. he rests his head over your waist, eyes seemingly inching closer to sleepiness. you sigh in relief. “go to sleep too, baby.”

jungkook breaks the silence a moment later.

“…did you mean me or bam?”

“you!” you chuckle.

“oh-” he laughs at his own foolishness. his arm that is supposed to be hooked around your waist rests over bam’s body instead. he ruffles the dog’s fur softly. “let’s all go to sleep.”

you let out a yawn in response to that. you sniffle, murmuring tiredly. “i love you, baby… your surprise made me so happy. i’ll make it up to you too.”

“i love you more…”

jungkook lifts his head and finds that you have closed your eyes. your chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm. bam is closely following you into dreamland.

heavens, what he wouldn’t give so he could stay here forever and never leave again.

his eyes are heavy with exhaustion, hot with sleepy tears, but he fights his own body to stay awake. with all his might, he gazes in awe at the beauty of a life with you. he wants to always remember what is waiting for him at home.

#jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

2K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 6 months ago

Text

LITTLE JUICE | JJK

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut, pwp

rating: 18+

summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.

luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.

luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster,

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl,

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door.

The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you.

No BS by Chris Brown.

The song that started it all.

Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.

You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice.

TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air.

You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you.

Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind.

Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek.

He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection.

You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly.

You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel.

Good thing you’re not a normal girl.

You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes.

Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft.

Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.

It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that.

You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you.

Your hips.

A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it.

He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration.

You’re in trouble.

Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones.

“Did you get wet for me?”

A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom.

For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it.

Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it.

But… you can’t divert his attention from it.

You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”

His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood.

He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin.

“Mango? You always get Taro with me.”

The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing.

Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them.

A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you.

You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water.

And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days.

You place your hands on top of his.

A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves.

It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure.

Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more.

You hump him.

“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.”

This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers.

But the moment is ruined all too soon.

A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror.

You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you.

Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life.

A yearning to kiss him consumes you.

“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.”

You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss.

Smart man.

“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.”

He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties.

“They’re gone.”

And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine.

A hungry look is wrung into his features.

The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound.

He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him.

Five torturous days.

“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.”

You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime.

The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again.

He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact.

You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you—

“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?”

Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners.

You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks.

Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip.

“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.”

You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions.

He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips.

“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”

And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves.

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all.

And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you.

“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.”

Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you.

You leak for him, nonetheless.

Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite.

“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.”

Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves.

But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does.

Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory.

The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks.

Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing.

Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you.

Not even as you come down from your high.

Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself.

Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you.

“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.”

Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle.

“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?”

You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit.

Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast.

“Whose pussy is this, princess?”

In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth.

There it is.

“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?”

You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks.

Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire.

“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.”

His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat.

And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth.

You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too.

You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him.

You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking.

“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you.

“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is.

Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans.

He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over.

Your life is over.

“Dada’s pussy always so tight.”

He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips.

“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.”

And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing.

The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock.

And he doesn’t pull away.

He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off.

You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round.

Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.”

The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.

“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.”

Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.”

His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.

“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place.

The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him.

“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?”

You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around.

An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick.

He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too.

At home, you fuck him hard for it.

With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat.

He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room.

And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right.

BACK to masterlist

#divider by kyejiz #bangtanwhq #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble #jungkook fic

2K notes · View notes