#bts female reader

[lovieku]

MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국

when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

୨ৎ from the grande series

pairing: fuckboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: fwb au

warnings: based on this ask, small smutty moments (cunnilingus, fingering, tiny boob play), angst, fluffi maybe idk, whipped and jelly koo, ft. namjoon!!!, oblivious oc, deep down she feels it too but jk is simply too much of a simp so it doesn’t look like it at first, he’s also so petty and sassy, jokes about ending it if oc doesn’t give him a chance </3, he’s just a little shit, peep the lyrics from boyfriend hehe, oh btw happy ending!!!

word count: 18k

a/n: wowww i’m so sorry for this pile of nonsense, it’s so bad i vomited a little in my mouth. i hate every single thing about it but i didn’t wanna leave you guys starved. i love u sm and thank u for the support, but u’re allowed to leave hate asks for what u’re about to read rn ❤️ also i’m SO SORRY for being unable to write a jungkook who isn’t a simp

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive

────୨ৎ────

Jeongguk was only supposed to clean you up. That’s what he calls it when his angelic face finds its place between your spread legs, sinful eyes locking with yours, paired with a smirk you can hardly ever survive.

After all, he’s a man of simple devices. Why bother fetching a towel when he can use his own mouth? When he can let his tongue lap at your juices, slurp every last trace, have an excuse to taste you again, and again, and again?

It’s barely even effective as a way to clean you up, of drying the slick mess that sticks to your inner thighs from cumming three times under his merciless doings— you both know that. Then, how does he expect you not to break a fourth when he runs his wet muscle so torturously along your slit, getting ever more soaked?

Jeongguk is not really trying to end the night. He’s drawing it out. He already had you unraveling in phases— first on his fingers, then all over his cupid lips, ending with you convulsating just another time around his thick length.

It was rough, left purplish marks of his harsh hold digging into your sides, a faint trace of a forbidden hickey just under your collarbones, where you can easily hide it.

In all fairness, he couldn’t help it.

It was you who provoked him. You always do, getting under his skin, teasing him about his skills, downgrading them with playful indifference and nothing more than a meh, as Jeongguk rasps in your ear, clearly affected by your session of foreplay when asking, “Does this make you feel good?”

You’ll be sent straight to hell for lying like that, with seemingly no remorse, but you’re unable to resist the dangerous game and the familiar thrill that comes from it. Nothing compares to the dark wave that takes over his hooded eyes, his motions ever more intentional, almost overwhelming.

He moves to prove something to you, to show you there’s no one quite like him, even with all the guys in your phone, on your lips, inside your sheets.

Jeongguk is your fuckbuddy, and your friend on top of the rest. So, when he first laid his lips on yours, the bottom line plumper than his cupid’s bow, it had taken a great amount of alcohol to flow through both of your veins and blur the lines, let instinct take over.

From there, it was like you couldn’t help yourselves; the physical attraction was undeniable, it’s what brought you here in between the mess of his bed. If you ignore the silly crush you had on him during the first year of college, this was perfect.

Your fuckbuddy contract (Jeongguk hates calling you that, he prefers my friend who makes me cum a lot) includes a heavy emphasis on a no-strings-attached relationship, that can be interrupted whenever one of the two feels uncomfortable, and that should not come before your friendship. On top of all, you both are not exclusive. No commitment, no jealousy. You’re perfectly free of meeting other people, fucking other people. Unless you’re going to date one of those, of course. Then, bye-bye friend who makes me cum a lot.

These rules were established almost a year ago, after your hands couldn’t help themselves from roaming hastily all over his body, pulling him impossibly closer. It was the second time you allowed yourself to feel him, following the night when he initiated things under the clouded lights of a club.

You couldn’t help it. You had been thinking of that moment for weeks now, and when you were left alone with him in his dorm room, pulse racing, it’s all your thoughts were reduced to. Kiss him, kiss him, fuck him.

You felt guilty. A friend shouldn’t be thinking of another friend like you were about Jeongguk. Especially after you promised yourself you wouldn’t let your buried crush resurface and ruin what you had built— even if the memory of that infatuation is honestly just laughable now (you would never think of dating him, pft).

But Jeongguk, ever the gentlest when it comes to you, assured you it was okay to feel as you did, because he felt it too. And was dying to touch you again. His words, not yours.

It’s only sexual. A casual, sexual relationship. Two friends who happen to find each other irresistible.

So when he reacts with a flash of competitiveness at the mere suggestion he might not be the best you’ve ever had, it’s… weird, the feeling that overcomes you. You acknowledge it for a split second, as if you’re searching to name that something inside you stirring, but before you can, it seems to make you fall apart immediately, your grip tighter, back arched, moans high-pitched.

He basks in his silent victory, in the factual demonstration that he in fact can’t be compared to all your other guys.

Except, there’s actually no other guys.

Back when this friends-with-benefits arrangement first started, you were occasionally fooling around with an older guy from campus named Mingyu. Jeongguk knew him, given that they’re in the same photography class. He was also aware of your casual fling with him. And yet, Jeongguk still kissed you. Actually, did so much more than just that.

Either way, the line has always been clear: he has no right to question who you spend time with and what you engage in, Jeongguk isn’t a saint either.

You love him, you truly do. With time, he has become one of your closest friends, and you honestly can’t see yourself getting through college without him.

But there’s no denying the fuckboy allegations, the ones that are constantly thrown at him all around campus. He is a fuckboy. It must be his easy charm, flirting as natural as breathing, tripping out his tongue with seemingly not much thought. At some point, the majority of the girls in your campus got to have their moment with Jeongguk, either because of mindless teasing or one night stands, occasionally turning into casual arrangements.

You have accepted it as part of who he is. You know his fuckboy habits haven’t magically changed when you two started fucking. He doesn’t really spend much time talking about it with you, occasionally mentioning his doings every now and then, but you don’t need to know; his friends and the people whispering in hallways and lecture halls fill in the blanks.

That is exactly why you’ve let Jeongguk believe that your sexual life is equally as busy, floods of boys from your inbox to your sheets, as if you aren’t too much of a hopeless romantic to even think of anything that isn’t exclusively monogamous.

But this isn’t the case. Jeongguk isn’t yours, you aren’t his. It’s just about sex, and you’ve accepted that. You don’t want anything more from him. You tell yourself the only reason you’re not seeing anyone else is that the idea of it makes you uneasy. That you’re more than satisfied with Jeongguk being your friend-turned-into-fuckbuddy, and you don’t need other ones.

Jeongguk is more than enough. Oh, he is.

“Fuck, Gguk. You’re gonna make me cum— Ah, shit— again.”

Your head is thrown back in his pillow, legs weakly tightening around his head nestled so close to your core, and it’s clear his goal has completely shifted from getting you clean and neat when the tip of his tongue moves to flicker on your sensitive nub, relentlessly abusing it with casual kissing and sucking.

He opens his mouth to take more of you, his wet muscle tracing your slit and teasing your entrance for— sadly —the shortest second, and the way he hums approvingly against you brings you even closer to the breaking point.

You’re a fragile mess, overstimulated from the previous orgasms but desperate to chase yet another climax, his hands roaming up to find your breast only spurring you further.

Jeongguk knows you by now, and is aware of all the subtle gestures that make you come undone under him. He knows just what to do to push you over the edge, and when to do it exactly.

You’re a sucker for dirty talk and praise, and occasionally, when the ideal situation comes, you love being degraded. It’s a side of you that only ever arises during sex, mind hazed and irrational, the delirious need for release clouding all your usually composed senses.

At first, he teased you for it. Not because he’s not as much of a fan as you are of talking during sex, but because he never pictured you to be the loud type. And you truly are.

Jeongguk pinches your nipples in hopes of you getting the message and lowering your volume, but it only makes you whine higher, your moans surely not going unnoticed by the other students in the dorm.

It can only be worse when he decides to speak against you, his voice a low, almost unintelligible growl, “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good. All mine, fuck. Want to taste your cum once again, c’mon babe. Give it to me.”

And you, always obliging and well-behaved, let go for a fourth time, hips furiously rutting against his face, his words making your surroundings spin, the way his nose would brush your sensitive nub having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your gasp is strained when he retreats with one last wet stripe between your puffy lips, sealing the orgasm with a kiss on your clit, and when he finds your face again there’s a cockish grin spreading across his, chin coated with your juices.

He immediately meets your mouth then, sharing your own taste, and you both moan shamelessly at the action.

Jeongguk collapses next to you, his body warm and relaxed, pulling you closer by your waist and almost making you straddle him with the force of his hold. He sighs into your hair, kissing the root of it, “You did amazing for me, pretty girl.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine at the praise and the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. It’s ridiculous.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, you glance up at him through your lashes and a lazy smile threatens to take over your face, but your playful pout is more prominent, almost convincing, “I’m never letting you do that trick on me again. Next time, I’m just going to take a shower like a normal person.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unguarded, his chest rumbling under your ear, and it makes you pull away with a mock glare, brows knitted together as you swat at his toned stomach, “Don’t laugh. I hated that.”

His dark eyes soften as they dance with amusement, the corners crinkling, and he hums, going along with your blatant lie from the way your lips struggle to contain a grin, “Oh, absolutely. You were screaming in horror, couldn’t stand it.”

“Whatever,” you mutter incoherently, standing up to escape from the inevitable loss. The slick between your thighs reminds you of why you need that shower in the first place, causing you to awkwardly wobble your way to his bathroom.

Jeongguk watches you with a lopsided smirk, stretched out on the bed, his brown hair a messy halo on the pillow, and it completes the concept he goes perfectly with, the one of a devil dressed up as an angel, even more when his voice drips with faux desperation, “Hey, come back. I need my cuddles.”

“You’ll live,” you toss back before pulling the door shut behind you and stepping into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water stings at first, then soothes you, sliding down your skin.

Jeongguk already knows the outcome of what he’s about to do isn’t going to turn in his favor, but he tries his luck regardless, standing up hastily and limply making his way to his bathroom door.

He only knocks twice, then puts on his best begging voice, talking loud enough to be heard over the shower, “Toots?”

“No!”

A scoff filters through the steamy air, followed by the unmistakable creak of the door handle as he steps inside. He’s relentless, voices his thoughts with the kind of logic only he would find convincing, “C’mon, we’ll save water!”

You stand with your back to him, his body wash traveling down your skin in soap bubbles, the scent filling the air, and you let your shoulders shrug. You don’t turn around. Number one, because you’ll give in. Number two, because you can hear the pout on his lips, and that’s the reason for number one.

You try your best to sound annoyed, “Jeongguk, just leave. You don’t even pay for it.”

“Our poor earth pays for it,” he quips, stepping further into the cramped space, body still bare, and that’s maybe a number three for you, “Because you wanna be so unfair to your best friend and leave him out in the cold.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

His gasp is dramatic, you even hear it echo through the tiny room, and you fight hard to contain the giggle locked inside you, but it escapes in the shape of a snort, which you quickly try to conceal by clearing your throat. You even further go with the lie, “You heard me.”

“Unbelievable. I’m kicking you out the second you’re done here,” he tries his best menacing tone, the threat barely harsh and effective, closing the door behind his back with an exaggerated thump, followed by unintelligible grumbling.

You take your sweet time in his now steamy bathroom. You shampoo twice, deliberately squeezing out a generous amount of his own fancy product in your palm, making sure the squeak of the bottle is heard through the door so he knows you’re helping yourself. His high-quality hair dryer blasts warm air over your damp hair until it’s only mildly wet. And you even rummage around his cabinet, indulging in his collection of expensive skincare creams. These little luxuries are exactly why you never pass a single occasion to shower over at his dorm room.

And the second you’re done in there, he doesn’t kick you out like he threatened. It takes a moment for him to move his attention from his phone to your figure, wrapped around in his fluffy robe, and he doesn’t even try to keep up the menacing act. Still spread on his ruined bed, his furrowed brows relax, and his lips break into a grin. He scans your face, then giggles, “You’ve got a massive pimple on your forehead.”

“Fuck you. I’m taking one of your hoodies.”

“It’s called borrowing,” even in the midst of checking out your freshly-washed naked body, now being stripped from his bathrobe, he’s still committed to the game of banter you two always play.

“It’s not if I’m not giving it back,” you counter, voice muffled by the fabric of one of his many black sweatshirts you’re already pulling over your head, quickly shuffling into your jeans, helping them up with some small hops that make him grin.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your comeback, too used to losing his own clothes to your closet; rather, he watches you move with what seems like hurry around his dimly lit room. He shifts higher, letting the sheets slip to reveal his still bare, and slightly sweaty torso, “Wanna hang out together at the party tomorrow?”

”Hmm, I’ll just see you there,” you don’t pay him much attention, using your phone camera as a mirror to wipe away any smudged mascara under your eyes. “I’ve already got a partner, actually.”

Jeongguk fully sits up now, vision a little blurry from the hasty and sudden movement, phone forgotten, “A partner?”

The way you casually let a smile tug at your lips while talking about a man is new, “Yeah. A guy from my English class asked me to go with him. He’s pretty cute.”

You’re too busy shoving your belongings in your bag and mentally cataloging every single item to notice the expression your best friend is currently sporting, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Tank top, makeup, laptop… where the fuck is— oh, here. Lip balm. What else?

Jeongguk thinks you’re forgetting something deathly important. A fucking explanation, maybe? He’s known you to occasionally fool around with random guys, but he thought it was just that. Occasional and random. When did it get to having a partner? That sounds silly. Or maybe a little too formal, a little too real. What the fuck does having a partner even entail?

You’re blissfully unaware of the stubborn storm taking over Jeongguk’s thoughts, especially because you’re not exactly sparing him a second glance, moving with single-minded focus, hurrying to leave. Because apparently it’s so bad to want to spend the night with your best friend. Share a bed, watch a movie, talk gossip (it’s been so long since you’ve updated him the way only you can about the latest campus stories, ugh). Amazing, yes, that’s totally fine with Jeongguk.

And he does manage to sound unbothered, “What’s his name?”

“Namjoon.”

Jeongguk focuses on your slim fingers slipping your lip balm into the front pocket of your bag, syllabes leaving his lips in a slow mumble, “Ah, Namjoon. I know him. I guess.”

Fucking Kim Namjoon. Of course he knows him. 6 feet tall, polite, model student Kim Namjoon. Shit. Great choice. No, really, he’s the perfect catch.

“Hm? Well, I think he’s very nice. And hot as fuck.”

He grimaces, “Gross.”

“You’re one to talk,” pulling the hood over your head, you finally meet his eyes. You’re completely oblivious to the thoughts gnawing at him, so you think his disappointment is only caused by your next words, “I should get going now.”

“What? You’re not staying over for dinner?” The way he looks up at you with doe, puppy-dog eyes almost makes you trip on your own resolution, but you only ruffle his hair from your stance next to his bed, hoping the small action is enough to satisfy your hunger. Not for dinner.

“Nah, sorry Gguk. Gotta get up early for English class.”

He scoffs, moving stubbornly from your soothing touch, “Sure. English class with Joohyuk.”

“…Namjoon.”

“Right, that’s what I said. Namsun.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-laughing, “No, it’s Namjoon.”

“Namgi.”

“Namjoon.”

“Whatever, don’t care.” The words have barely any space to roll out through his pout, and along with his petty little slip-ups it’s the most childish act you’ve seen him pull so far. To be completely honest, he seems to break a new record every other day.

You fight the urge to roll your gaze at the ceiling, finding it impossible to deal with pouty, hungry and cuddle-starved Jeongguk. You sigh, muttering, “Insufferable.”

“Give me a kiss, brat.”

The teasing comes so naturally that for a second you don’t ponder on the demand being something a normal friend wouldn’t exactly ask. But it isn’t one you’ll deny.

You bend down to meet him as easily as he let the request out, muttering a playful Oh, I’m the brat now? before brushing his pushed lips with yours in a sweet, short kiss, enough to draw a soft sigh from both of you. You hum against it, voice warm with something that contradicts your words entirely, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Sure,” rolling your eyes, you grant his cocky figure that little win, too tired to put up a fight, even if you almost rethink it when he confidently leans back against the pillows, smirking up at you. You decide to cut it short, it’s for the best, throwing your bag over your shoulder as well as one last look at him, before readying yourself for the walk of shame through his frat.

────୨ৎ────

Namjoon is, by all standards, the perfect guy. He’s genuine, smiles sweetly with his dimples showing and his eyes crinkling into crescents that make him seem both wise and youthful.

Careful, even protective over you, making sure you’re comfortable. With your drink, with your seat, with your conversation.

Almost too attentive, which should calm your nerves, but instead you feel yourself unable to fully let go. Open up to him like he’s doing with you, like you think you want to do.

You’re not sure. You can’t feel that mysterious spark everybody talks about. That spark Jeongguk admitted he’s never felt with anyone so far, no matter the number of girls he’s been with. The one he’s confessed he’s desperate to feel. The one you hope he can find.

Wait, why are you thinking about Jeongguk?

Said boy has yet to acknowledge you, standing across from you in the crowded living room of your mutual friend’s house. Each weekend, the same ritual brings you back here, whenever Taehyung’s parents head off for one of their rich-people, luxurious trips. The space is familiar, a backdrop to countless parties, all too often ending in someone’s drunken confessions and stolen kisses that’d become the talk of campus until the next party came around.

As tradition would want, with the clock ticking its way past midnight, you’d be drunk out of your mind already. Tonight, however, you’re not even sure you want to be here.

Namjoon is keeping close tabs on your drinks, monitoring each glass you reach for, and you know he means well; ordinarily, you’d find it sweet, endearing even. But it only seems to heighten your anxiety now. It just reminds you of how out of place this whole thing feels. You want to drown your awkwardness in a wave of liquid courage, and the irony isn’t lost on you: the very reason why you’re nervous is keeping you from numbing it.

Namjoon makes you way too aware of yourself. You wish your first proper hang out wasn’t at a filthy frat party, the blasting music causing you both to lean into each other to make conversation. The proximity makes your palms disgustingly clammy, and you hope he doesn’t reach for your hand.

You also think this isn’t the type of scenario that best suits Namjoon. You would have loved to be with him somewhere softer, with less noise and more light, talking over coffee instead of loud techno, his poetic speech lulling you into infatuation. Maybe then, this would have gone like you had imagined it might. Like you wanted it to go, just to prove something to yourself. You’re still not sure what exactly.

But this house — this party — is a natural habitat for people like Jeongguk. It’s a playground he navigates with ease, his charisma amplified by the darkened rooms and faint cigarette smoke that seems to follow him, just like everyone around him. They exist solely to orbit his mood.

It’s as he saunters back inside after yet another smoke break that you spot him again, his focus entirely on whatever girl is currently at his side. With Namjoon leaving to grab a drink for the two of you to share, you take the short moment to be a shameless creep and study your friend’s movements from the other side of the room.

You can’t help but feel a sting of irritation. Jeongguk is fully aware you’re here. You’d texted him earlier, just something casual to say you’d arrived, maybe even expecting him to meet you or give you a quick wave. Instead, there’d been no reply.

Just like the TikToks you’d sent last night, after you told him you wouldn’t be staying over at his, that also went ignored. You didn’t think too much of it, figured it was probably one of his petty acts. You aren’t any better: it’s not like you’ll go up to him to say hi, not after he ignored you. Those videos were funny, too. He’s the one missing out.

But now, your eyes squinted to try and get the best possible view on each detail of the scene in front of you, what you notice is nothing about him and everything about who he’s currently spending the time he could have used to acknowledge you with.

It’s not just whatever girl. It’s Haeun.

You haven’t seen them hanging out together in what feels like months, and frankly, you’re thrown. Maybe that’s also the reason why he suddenly had no time for you. You scoff.

You’re just confused, really. Jeongguk didn’t mention a thing about her, and it’s not like he’s ever kept his hookups or flings a secret. But Haeun was never just that. She was the one he seemed almost ready to get in his first serious relationship with, the one girl you thought could make him forget all about his usual habits.

When Jeongguk had first started hanging out with Haeun, he’d seemed uncharacteristically interested. You naturally found yourself rooting for him, hoping he’d take a leap and start something real after many failed attempts.

At that point, your casual arrangement with him had been going on for a while, but you knew it wasn’t built to last. You’d expected it to end sooner rather than later, and you were okay with that. You just wanted him to be happy with himself and his choices.

But on the night he was supposed to take Haeun out on a date, the one that could have changed everything, it’s like a magic vacuum turned on and sucked all his progress away. He’d shown up in front of your door instead. No explanations, no details about what had happened; he didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to be near you and sink into silence.

That night you laid next to him, his head on you, hair sprawled out on your stomach, and said absolutely nothing.

Since then, he hadn’t mentioned Haeun at all, and you’d assumed it was over. The right side of your brain was irrationally glad for that, greedily geeking at the prospect of still getting to keep Jeongguk close in ways that go over a simple friendship. In ways that have you thanking God for not taking your friend’s sex skills away from you; in ways that have your nose scrunching whenever he leaves small, delicate pecks on the side of your neck as you watch a movie cuddled in his embrace. If he had decided to go on that date, you would be denied all of this luxury.

The left side of your brain is a little less greedy, a little more rational. The half of your mind responsible for keeping some logic instilled in you even thought it could have been a good thing for Jeongguk to experience a different side of relationships.

You’ve always sensed there to be deeper reasons beneath Jeongguk’s carefree front. You’ve watched him jump from girl to girl, dip in and out of flings with seemingly no thought, as if he’s not trying to bury issues he should find a different answer for, to avoid whatever insecurities he’s run too far away from to face.

He’s never had to spell it out for you. You never pressed him on the topic either. And you think he’s grateful for it, for your silence that offers him the stability he won’t admit he needs, for simply staying and understanding. For allowing him to be vulnerable.

You wish you could give him more than that quiet comfort. Wonder if you should try your luck and push him to see that he does deserve something real— more than the distractions he uses to keep his fears at bay.

Jeongguk would make an incredible boyfriend. He always spots the small details, the slight changes in your mood, and he picks them up before you can even notice yourself, caring in a silent way that doesn't go unnoticed. Not by you.

It’s easy to imagine him being the kind of partner who’d cater to his girl’s needs effortlessly, even in quiet, even if hidden. You know he could be that person if he could just let anyone in beyond sex. When he’ll find the one, it’ll be clear it’s all he was made for.

Right now though, if anyone were to ask you that, you’d advise them to just go and look for another one, because he’s a little, lying piece of shit. You’re just a tad bit upset about it, if your crossed arms and furrowed brows are anything to go by.

You don’t understand why he’s now there, standing next to the girl he himself stood up, the one he looked ready to fix everything for, and then wasn’t. Leaning in close as if nothing had ever happened.

Why couldn’t he tell you, at least give you a heads-up if he was reconnecting with her? You know it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but the fact that he’s hiding it stings. Are you overthinking this?

When he lifts his head from her ear and scans the room, his eyes landing right on yours for a brief second just to look away, you don’t think you are. His attention shifts back to Haeun as if he hadn’t seen you at all. What the fuck?

You question what’s the point of having eyes to see when you are now forced to witness Jeongguk leaving the room with Haeun hanging her draggy weight on his arm, his smile cockish as he helps her up by her waist, fingers digging dangerously close to the curve of her perfectly shaped peach.

Their chemistry is undeniable, hands finding skin with unpracticed ease. It must be the way Jeongguk can effortlessly work his charm with any girl he deems attractive enough to fuck, his smirk and the way he lets his nose scrunch almost timidly, as if you can’t see right through him, making women potty in his sculpted hands.

The prospect of your best friend getting laid by the girl he was almost ready to change it all for should make you happy. Smile, at least.

Instead, you frown, mindlessly taking long sips from the straw in your glass and letting it stir your too watered-down cocktail that lacks any real flavor. You don’t even try to find answers as to how another drink landed right on the counter you rest your back on, but you’re glad for it.

You’re more upset at the fact that he decided not to tell you anything. You would have helped him through it, supported him, advised him on what to do, how to move in such a situation. But even if he didn’t need any of this, you would have appreciated just knowing. From him.

The ways in which the two of you are intertwined right at this moment don’t exactly allow him to completely leave you unaware of his actions. It’s not fair.

But then, are you even supposed to feel like this in the first place? Is only sex supposed to have this impact on you? Is even the smallest cell in his brain producing a thought that might take him back to you, and could it compare to a third of what you think and feel?

Does he not get that tingly sensation with you, ‘cause he’s used to it? ‘Cause you’re nothing too different nor special from all the choice he has laid at his feet, nothing out of the usual routine?

A gentle hand on your arm jolts you out of your thoughts. The touch is delicate, but the way it pulls you from your spiral is rough, making you stumble on the already wobbly stool you’re sitting on. When you look to your side, Namjoon meets you with a warm smile.

You hadn’t even noticed him being back next to you, and you figure that’s probably how that drink found its way in your hands. You’re a deer caught in headlights as you look at him, then down at the almost empty glass, then back at the boy. Your eyes widen impossibly more, and you struggle with finding a louder volume to your voice, almost fading with the music, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to finish this all by myself.”

You remember him saying he’d get a drink for the two of you to share before leaving you with your haunting thoughts. He just laughs in a way that should soothe your nerves, but it doesn’t, “It’s okay. You look like you needed it. I’m getting another one for me and catching up with some of my friends over there. I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, totally. No problem,” your words roll out your tongue in a slurred hurry, face already turning to the opposite side of the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re agreeing on. You just feel Namjoon slip away from the seat next to yours again.

The brief interaction was enough for Jeongguk to have time to completely disappear from your strict observing, and just like the boy who should have had your undivided attention tonight, he equally slips away. From your vision, from the party. And from you. He’s with Haeun now, after all. And you’re alone.

Being truthful, Jeongguk is once again slipping away from his problems only. He doesn’t know how he ended up with Haeun by his side, but when he found your big, confused eyes in the midst of what should have been his escape for the night, he thinks he could name a few reasons.

It’s suffocating, the grip you have on him. He can almost feel one of your slim, delicate hands around his throat. He’s a dirty little sadist, of course he enjoys the pain. But he shouldn’t, so he runs from it until his back hits the wall, and the hold only gets tighter.

There’s nothing to do but face the truth. And you’re in front of him, eyes lost and inviting him to tell you. What should be easy for him to say, what he owes you. But the words get stuck in his throat, right where you’re pressing, and he feels like he might stop breathing.

He could die like this, with your narrowed orbs pitying him, and he badly wishes you would call him a coward. The hold is just enough to hurt him, not to make him lose his senses; if anything, it only makes his head spin around the one thought he wants to avoid. You.

With the quickest distraction he could get his hands on, he keeps adding to it: Haeun clinging to his side, he steps out the packed room to light the nth cigarette, the smoke clouding his vision and making the image of you fade from behind his eyelids. You release your hand from him and disappear. He almost whines. He misses you already. But the faint ache is a reminder.

Instead, in front of him is the only girl he should have truly avoided. Haeun is another reminder. Not because she looks similar to you, you’re way prettier. You’re beautiful.

No, it’s just because he remembers Haeun being his first victim, using her to bury something stronger growing inside him. But it didn’t work then, and it doesn’t work now.

She’s the only girl he tried his luck with to avoid his now unavoidable feelings for you. Then, he physically couldn’t touch another woman beside you. So he started flirting with more cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe some joints then and there.

Jeongguk would love to know why he prefers destroying himself rather than just be the confident man he lets everyone else think he is, go up to you and be honest, like you make it so easy for him to be. The fact that it almost slipped out of him more than a couple times scares him.

It shouldn’t. He wants to fall into that soothing caress, but could he even handle the possibility of you simply, and rightfully if you deemed it the correct choice, rejecting him?

The answer is no. He can’t afford losing your touch on him, your lashes fluttering when you look up at him, your fingers tracing secret maps on his back. He wonders if you’re outlining the safest ways for him to escape from the maze he himself created, of which he forgot the exit to.

With Haeun pressing herself to his side, he thinks he’d rather stay trapped there at this point. A maze built by lies, letting you believe he’s fucking other girls on the side when he feels sickened just by the thought of it, his hand now coming up to push the girl back to a safe distance. Built by insecurities, preferring having you think that you’re simply one of the many he has when he firmly believes you’re the only one that the universe has especially assigned him to.

It’s making him lose his mind, while you live unaware, free from the truth. He’s sure in the stretch that went from yesterday, when you told him about your fucking partner, and tonight, seeing you so close to said partner’s face, your dress custom-made by the hands of every angel populating heaven, Jeongguk developed some kind of clinical illness. The flame of jealousy in his toned tummy has eaten him whole.

And he feels slightly ashamed of himself knowing this is how he found himself circling back to his first poor attempt at running away from you, in the form of a short girl, her eyes now questioning him just like yours had done earlier. Haeun furrows her brows, “Are you seriously doing this again?”

Jeongguk sighs, glancing away to take a long drag from his cigarette that fills his lungs and almost aches. He avoids the eye contact that would be needed for a conversation like the one he’s forced to have — one that wouldn’t have occured in the first place if he could just be a normal person — instead he looks back to the room through the glass doors, “I’m sorry, Hae. I— I can’t do this—“

“Yo, Gguk. You need to come with me now. ___ is throwing up in the bathroom.”

It’s Taehyung sliding the glass door open with more force than what he usually puts, and right now nobody would tell he’s the same one always advising his friends to be delicate with it. The look on his face is panicked and it quickly reflects in Jeongguk’s eyes, flickering between his friend and Haeun.

Next, his reflexes are quicker. He steps inside the house, skipping past Taehyung and the flood of college students dancing their Friday away to Usher and seemingly not caring about the urgency written all over his expression.

He makes it to the bathroom where people have started to crowd around as if lining up to an unmissable show, and he doesn’t care if his pushes are too rough as he makes his way through.

You’re quite literally hugging the toilet, your face one with the lid as a few girls try and help you with your hair. The moment they see Jeongguk, it’s like they know he’s the one that you need, that he’s finally here and you’re in good hands. He shoots them a quick nod as they step aside and then, he’s immediately crouching next to you, gently gathering your long locks into his fist.

He moves some stray strands behind your ears while you keep letting it all out, and as much as his broad back is enough to hide you from watchful eyes, he can still hear murmurs from onlookers.

It’s as Jeongguk is debating whether he should cuss them out or keep his attention on you that Taehyung comes to promptly clear the crowd, closing the bathroom door behind him only after making sure his friend doesn’t need any more help.

Jeongguk appreciates the gesture, knowing how overwhelmed you can get in these scenarios with too many people around. Although, no matter how calm he appears for your sake, his heart races even as you seem to settle and sit on the tiled floor, your back resting against the cool wall.

You gulp down a few times, squeezing your eyes to try and ground yourself, the way you can feel Jeongguk’s hand hold the side of your leg, his thumb delicately brushing the inside of your thigh, definitely helping.

“Toots,” he whispers, face close to your own, “Hey, doll. You’re okay now, hm? What happened?” His voice is low, slow, almost scared of flowing past his lips.

When you open your eyes he’s directly in front of you, squatting down to stay on your level, and his brows are drawn high in worry.

You sniff, your voice still rough from the scratching on your throat, “Fucking— Jimin. I met him in the kitchen and we mixed too much shit together—“

“Weren’t you with Kim Namjoon?” Jeongguk interrupts you, both his tone and the way his eyebrows now dip inquisitive.

You shrug, looking down at your fingers fidgeting, “Dunno. Why the fuck am I still not sober,” the way you tone the question doesn’t make it sound like one, and you end up giggling at yourself, hiccuping in the process.

Jeongguk sighs, unconsciously tightening his hold around your leg, his fingers digging and making you whimper subtly. He notices, soothing the skin only to take both his hands to scoop you up by your armpits, lifting both your bodies on your feet.

You yelp, throwing your weight on him with another one of your senseless chuckles, looking up at his bothered face through your lashes. He straightens your posture with wide palms on your waist, throwing one of your arms around his shoulders and causing you to step out of the small room on your tiptoes. He grumbles, “I’m taking you back to the dorm now. And we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Talk about what?”

“Namjoon.”

You stay quiet as the both of you, your body snug against his, walk through the party and out the house to reach Jeongguk’s car. Your thoughts are sluggish, failing to grasp why he’d even want to talk about Namjoon. Isn’t he just a nice guy? You’re more concerned with Jeongguk’s seemingly irked tone and the distressed way his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

A soft, involuntary whine escapes you when you think you might be the reason for that, shuffling yourself closer into his warmth, but the contact is brief as he gently settles you into the passenger seat and clicks the belt, then he closes your door and circles the car to the driver’s side.

Awkward. The only sound that can be heard is the soft hum of the engine, beside the fuzzy buzz in your ears. You feel laughter bubbling up in your chest but you hold it there, turning to study Jeongguk’s side profile. Inhaling, you start, “Can you— can I put on—”

“No.”

Your smile falters, “What? C’mon, give me the aux.”

“The last thing I want right now is to listen to those songs.”

Any previous tipsy instinct that made you want to laugh at the situation fade with his words and the way his grip on the steering wheel says more than what he’s letting on. You’re hazy, but his clenched jaw and laser focus on the road make you sit up straighter, adjusting your slouched posture and the skirt of your dress with it, pulling it further down your thighs.

The tension coming off him feels so heavy that it leads to irrational, childish tears pricking your eyes, and you sound defeated when you whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

He brakes a little too hard at the red light, and you both lurch slightly forward. Jeongguk seems to realize just now that he’s unfairly taking his anger out on you, and the way you let out the question in the smallest voice makes his heart speed up, turning to you with apprehension, “No, toots. No, why would I be? I’m mad at that fucker.”

“He was just talking with some of his—”

“He left you alone. He was supposed to take care of you. Not let you get fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk sounds final, his tone allowing no more condoning nor excuses for the tall guy now left behind you, back at the party. But you don’t seem to focus too much on the meaning of his words, rather you bask in the consequences of them. He’s not upset with you!

That spurs you to contradict him further, this time on the accusation he threw at you, but it’s less than credible when you say it through a sheepish smile that unconsciously made its way on your lips at the protective edge to his tone, “I’m not fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk only sighs, but you can see him visibly relax, shoulders going down and leaning against the back of his seat, right hand coming to pat your bare knee with a small smile on his pierced lips.

You share a look that fully sobers you up only to get you high all over again off his doe eyes, the artificial lights dotting a universe of their own in those orbs, undiscovered galaxies and planets inviting you to move there, even with no water, no oxygen, no way of surviving.

When the soft hue of the red light reflecting on the side of your face morphs to green, he moves his attention back on the road, taking his hand with it to shift gears. Then, he concedes, “Put on the playlist.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his sudden shift in mood, but just as quickly you recover. Your brain seems to be able to focus on one thing at a time either way, so you don’t ponder on your insides collectively moving at the way he looked at you and instead reach for the aux cord, fingers tapping on your phone screen absentmindedly, with a conscience of their own.

Music interrupts the quiet, and you can’t help but join, “The night we met I knew I, needed you so. And if I had the chance I’d, never let you go. Sing with me!”

Jeongguk breaks into a grin, no matter how much he fights it, “You’re so fucking wasted.”

“So won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make ‘em turn their heads every place we go, so won’t you please,” Be My Baby by The Ronettes fills the previous silent tension, which you seemingly already forgot everything about, using Jeongguk’s free hand as your own personal microphone, folding it in a fist between your palms.

Jeongguk would never say it out loud, especially now, after he only pretended he had to be begged to put it on, that he’s actually grown attached to this playlist. Started as a little mishap and turned into something that got under his skin, much like you have.

Its creation came about from a comically embarrassing moment that gave you ammunition to tease him for weeks. Although, he’s glad for it when he reflects deep enough: the whole episode helped shape the bond between you two, adding to its foundation.

He still doesn’t know how you managed to slip so sneakily into his dorm that evening, but what’s sure is that he wasn’t expecting you, taking the time of his life in his bathroom, fresh out of the shower. Simply following his usual routine, one that you wouldn’t have exactly considered usual since you only ever knew him as an avid Drake listener, he hummed along to Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love flowing softly from his phone speaker.

It wasn’t just that, of course, because then he started styling his wet hair in an exaggerated pompadour and fully got into character, strutting dramatic poses in front of the mirror and even practicing Elvis’s iconic curl of the lip. If his soul was by any chance watching over the scene, you’d hoped he’d agree with you that Jeongguk was truly giving Austin Butler a run for his money.

The private show sadly ended when he caught sight of you in the foggy glass, your lips sealed shut to try and hold your delighted laughter, but it got ripped out of you in the form of an obnoxious snort the moment his eyes went wide in horror and his face crimson in shame.

It was hell for a few weeks after that. You didn’t let him off so easily, teasing him for being a secret softie with a love for old-school romance under all the layers of his tough fuckboy image that only ever seemed to handle trappy beats.

When you jokingly suggested he might as well get fully into the act and start calling you toots or something, he didn’t back down from the tease, scoffing at you with narrowed eyes. Somewhere along the way, the dry, sardonic tone with which he first used that pet name on you stuck, and it became less of a joke, more of an endearing way to refer to you, and only you.

Before either of you could second-guess it, the playlist was born. You two crafted it together in fits of laughter and late-night texts, with Jeongguk suggesting songs from his secret stash and you contributing the ones you grew up on.

It quickly became the soundtrack to many of your aimless car rides, something that neither of you acknowledged outright but silently cherished. Sometimes, you’d get so carried away and slip into the roles of a ‘60s couple, playfully reciting cheesy lines back and forth.

No matter how much Jeongguk pretends he hates it to save what’s left of his bad boy reputation, he really doesn’t. Not even a little bit. Even the way he rolls his eyes and groans isn’t enough to hide the spark in his eyes when you sing along.

He feels worse than a pubescent teenager when he lets his guard slip to hear you hum words he can only imagine are just for him, meant in the way he wants. You swing side by side and smile up at him with dimples digging long slits into your cheeks, and he has to act as if it makes him feel completely normal and not like he’s going to crash his car any second.

Each lyric that spills from your mouth feels like it’s tying him down, even with your sweet voice a little unsteady, thanks to whatever is still left from the night’s drinks. You’re so not aware of what it does to him.

Your eyes are on the road, but Jeongguk’s linger on you, his fingers unconsciously tapping the steering wheel to the tune.

“I’d save every day like a treasure, and then, again, I would spend them with you.”

Jeongguk purposefully veers off onto streets he doesn’t need to take, buying himself a few extra minutes with you, but you don’t notice and he pretends to not know either. Would never admit it’s because he wants to hear you sing a little more, and that this ongoing joke between the two of you might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

“But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them. Hold on, this one’s a little lower. I’ll find my note, wait,” you’re mostly talking to yourself, cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window, but you glance at Jeongguk as if seeking for approval, clearing your throat, “I’ve looked around enough to know that you’re the one I want to go through time with.”

Just as Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce fades out, Jeongguk pulls into the campus parking lot, turning the engine off and cutting the music with it. None of you move right away, accepting the stillness in the car.

You don’t accept the silence, though, letting your mind speak a thought that has been nagging at you, “Can you fuck me here? Right now?”

The way you voice the request would make anybody who didn’t understand English think you’d just asked for something as mundane as a glass of water, your eyes unfaltering, a small smile on your waiting lips, voice barely slicing through the quiet. It’s almost as if you don’t know it’s the kind of thing that could derail Jeongguk’s entire thought process.

Jeongguk lightly chokes on his own breath, giving a few coughs before turning to you, his tattooed hand messing his hair further, “Jesus Christ, ___. You know I can’t.”

You tilt your head, considering him, as if this is a serious debate rather than drunken rambling, “Why not?”

Jeongguk can only sigh. He takes in your disheveled state and notices the way your exposed skin prickles with the cold, reaching for the leather jacket he carelessly threw on the backseats before heading to the party, having had no idea you’d be the one wearing it by the end of the night.

He wraps it gently around your shoulders, moving sticky, stray strands of hair from your face, “You’re so drunk. Look at you.”

“I told you I’m not,” you protest weakly, but your confidence falters when his fingers ghost over your face.

“There’s vomit in your hair,” he shuts you bluntly, tone softer than the honest words.

“Oh,” your stubbornness doesn’t work this time, and you’re mortified as you glance down at your lap, where his fingers fall to mindlessly play with the zip of his bomber jacket, brushing your tummy in the process. Your voice doesn’t sound so sure now, especially when each subtle graze sends small shocks through you, “That’s disgusting.”

The soft chuckle he lets out has you stealing a look upward, and when you catch his expression your slowed down brain can only come to the conclusion that maybe he doesn’t find you all that disgusting: he sports a rare, wide curve of his bunny smile, eyes crinkling when that same fondness finds its way onto your lips. You can’t help what they do next, a mind of their own as you rest them on his own mouth, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek.

It’s the faintest of kisses, and it’s delicate, fleeting, over far too soon, but you’re the one to pull back first no matter how much longer you need it to be, “That was probably disgusting too.”

As you rest your back on the seat again, his eyes are still closed, and they flutter open as slowly as a smile stretches on his mouth when he meets you. You’re giving him a look he doesn’t deserve, one he shouldn’t lean into.

His voice is a whisper, and it fans over your face, still close to his, “Not at all.”

Gleaming eyes scan every angle of you, as if trying to find anything that’ll hold him back from what he really wants to do. But, of course, his need only grows when he lets his gaze wander down, then up again.

He glances to the side with a gulp, moving his body back to reach for the car door handle, “You think you can walk or should I carry you?”

“Carry me, please,” you mumble, not even pondering on the first option, and the moment the sound leaves your lips he’s out and reaching for your side, opening your door and scooping you up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The walk to his dorm is a blur, with you dozing off in his warmth and being lulled by the hums escaping him and reverberating through his chest, melodies of the earlier songs playing against your ear.

You regain awareness when a splash of warm water cascades over your now naked body, the sensation startling enough to make your lashes flutter against your damp cheeks. The water runs over your face, washing away the remnants of the night, the drowsy yet oddly light sensation taking over you causing a giggle to echo against the walls.

You’re still too disoriented to process the tenderness with which Jeongguk’s hand moves, brushing through your soaked strands of hair and moving them from where they flattened on your face, combing through the sticky locks.

With half-open eyes, you’re met with the sight of him in front of you, standing close enough without needing to step into the small space with you, his brows furrowed as he works the shampoo through your hair. It’s a soothing, slow motion, the one he massages your scalp with, and it only melts you further into sweet slumber.

If it weren’t for one of his hands resting tightly on your hip, grounding you as the scent of the shampoo mingles with the steam curling around you, you would have gladly swayed into his palm, letting your weak body fall into his strong one.

You sniff, leaning into his care, voice small and oddly sincere, “I’m sorry for,” hiccup, “taking you away from Haeun. You two seem close again.”

Jeongguk stills for a moment, his fingers pausing in your hair before resuming their soft motions. He pretends he didn’t hear, and you pretend you never talked in the first place when he guides you to steady yourself as your knees wobble, “Hey, stand still. You’ll get shampoo in your eyes. Close them.”

You obey, letting your eyelids drop shut as you feel his hand gently tilt your head under the spray, his touch as tender as the words he isn’t saying.

If you weren’t a victim of both sleepiness and alcohol at this very moment, your thoughts would be racing each other like eager contenders in the Overthinker Marathon, each one fighting tooth and nail for the gold medal. They’d be dissecting every little detail of the night— the way Jeongguk had ignored you, his lingering hand on Haeun’s waist, only to be there the second you needed him, the girl from earlier not even worth mentioning.

Instead, your every thinking cell has taken a rare vacation, lounging together on an imaginary green field, clinking glasses filled with leftover cocktails from earlier, lazily watching clouds drift by.

Although there’s one cell in particular, too tipsy to sit still. It hops around gleefully, urging your lips to move before the Thinking Cell General can intervene. The way it jumps up and down, up and down, makes you giggle as you blurt out, “I don’t know if it’s the water, but I’m very wet.”

The silence that follows is thick, punctuated only by the sound of water cascading down your back. Jeongguk freezes as if the words have physically reached out and yanked him into stunned stillness. He can only let his throat bob in a visible swallow and look away, warning you in a strained mutter, “___. This is your last warning. Stop teasing me.”

You whine, pathetically wiggling your weak and pliant body in his hold to seek for some kind of reaction, but he doesn’t budge. He’s uncharacteristically focused on his tasks, ensuring every trace of shampoo rinses from your hair, rather than your hardened nipples bouncing with your stubborn movements.

But you recognise the way his jaw clenches so tight it must hurt, how he refuses to let his gaze wander lower where the steam of water outlines your form. His restraint is razor-thin, yet he holds it tightly, breathing only slightly uneven.

You’re not deterred by his warning; you never are. It’s the tiny tracks in his resolve that keep you pressing forward, voice laced with a vulnerability that makes his hand twitch against your scalp, “Just… I just need your fingers. Please.”

Jeongguk exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he angles the spray to wash the last suds away, hyper-focused on the practical task as though it’s a lifeline to his dwindling self-control.

But you’re persistent. You reach behind you, fingers messily finding the knob to twist the water off, and with the spray halting you’re left only with the hum of the bathroom fan and the faint drip of water.

Your other hand finds his, guiding his wide palm to rest on your lower stomach, just above where your want is written in every inch of your body. You whisper, plead clear in your tone, ”You know I want this. Won’t ever regret it. I’m conscious enough to be sure of that.”

Jeongguk huffs, his chest rising and falling as he stares down at you, fingers flexing slightly against your skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if accepting defeat. He can’t win this battle.

The brown-haired boy steps into the shower, the small space shrinking even further with the addition of his broader frame, forcing you to back up against the wall. Fully dressed, water clings to his fabric, and the contrast of his damp clothes against your bare, exposed skin makes you irrationally wetter.

Jeongguk keeps silent, and at this point you don’t care how desperate you look, pushing yourself against him and getting his clothes wetter in the process. It pushes him to initiate a torturous path along your skin, using his middle finger to trace a journey from your chest, savoring the way your breath hitches, down to your warm core.

The droplets of water he collects on the way are used to spread your puffy lips and press right on your sensitive nub, making you gasp. You’re a trembling mess from the simple motion, and he has to use his free hand to steady you against the wall.

Your breasts aren’t left without being taken care of, because the moment he begins circling motions on your clit that have you seeing stars, he lowers his head to envelop one of your tits in his ravenous mouth, teeth teasing it punitively, all while looking up at you with sliced, sinful eyes.

He’s greedy, and you can’t believe he managed to hide it so well until now. But his resolve crumbles the more he revels in the way you fall apart for him, and he loses control on your chest. The sensation is sharp, delicious, and the contrast between the harshness of his bite and the softness of his tongue has you whimpering.

You’re ashamedly aware of how close you already are, his digits picking a fast speed that urges you to let go and coat him in your juices. He knows, simply from the way you let your mouth fall agape and release loud moans in the steamy air, pushing your nipples further in his swollen lips.

When he inserts one finger in your warm hole, you jolt in his secure hold, eyebrows shot upwards in the shock of your sudden orgasm, one that hits you all too harshly. It drags on deliciously, Jeongguk never wanting it to end, the slurping sound of his sucking on your tits making your surrounding spin, along with his thumb accompanying the way his single digits thrusts into you.

He only stops when you unconsciously run from his doings, slim hand wrapping weakly around his wrist, and he retreats with one last wet stripe along the curve of your boob, promptly collecting your taste from his fingers, and he thoroughly hums around them, eyes closed and cheeks hollowed.

You think you could come again from the sight alone. Panting, you smile through your ragged breaths, “Fuck. Thanks.”

Five minutes later, no one would bet you’re the same girl that begged him for his fingers and came in record time around them. Now, you sit serenely on the toilet lid, wrapped up in Jeongguk’s warmest hoodie. The oversized fabric swallows your frame, knees tucked under it as you hug them close to your chest. You look as innocent as ever.

Jeongguk stands in front of you, meticulously brushing through your damp hair with practiced gentleness, each stroke of the comb a soothing lullaby. You rest your chin lazily on your folded arms, eyes closed, the edges of sleep blurring your thoughts.

You let out a contented sigh before murmuring, words unfiltered, “You’d make the perfect boyfriend. You always take care of me. And kiss me when I need it.”

The motions of the brush stop for a fraction of a second before resuming, and what you hear next is Jeongguk’s throat clearing, his voice low and almost shaky, “That sounds so very wrong, toots.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t open your eyes as you ask the question, the warmth of his presence and the excuse of the last traces of alcohol still flowing in your tired body making you bolder than usual.

“You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“In another life, maybe. Yes,” you don’t waste time replying, words carrying a dreamy quality, “I mean, would be cool.”

“Cool?” He chuckles, but it’s the kind that’s half-exasperation and half-something else entirely, voice strained with an edge of desperation too, “God, I don’t even know why I’m still putting up with you.”

You only nuzzle closer into the borrowed hoodie, giving voice to your next thought, your thinking cells now hosting a 60s themed party, “Be my, be my baby. My one and only baby.”

The sound of your singing fades under the whirring roar of the hairdryer, and Jeongguk is quietly thankful for the way it drowns your sweet hums completely, fearing if he hears another one of those tipsy love confessions leaving your lips he might drop to his knees, undone by something he knows he can’t claim.

You rest your head against his stomach, full weight leaning on his standing figure, his long digits pulling through your strands. If you’d look up at your best friend for even one fleeting second, you’d probably laugh at the concentration on his expression, his only goal drying your hair enough to not have you waking up with a headache the following day.

You sniffle and snuggle impossibly closer to him, the heat radiating from his tummy and the white noise lulling you further into drowsiness, every careful motion of his hand coaxing you closer to sleep.

When your phone pings from the bathroom counter, the sudden buzz makes you jolt slightly. You lift your head sluggishly and gesture toward the phone, mouthing up to Jeongguk, “Pass it.”

He hands it to you without turning off the hairdryer, keeping an eye on your sleepy movements. You blink at the bright light for a moment before your expression shifts, eyes widening.

You’re completely jolted awake at the only notification on your home screen: it's Namjoon.

You tap Jeongguk’s stomach with the heel of your hand— softly at first, then with increasing urgency. The repeated motion forces him to stop the device and place it on the counter as he looks down at you, trying to peek at the screen, “What?”

You hiccup and sniff before blurting out, “Namjoon. He texted me”

The boy that was just now carefully drying your hair scoffs, arms crossed over his chest, “What does that asshole want?”

The response to the rhetorical question doesn’t come, either because you decide to ignore it purposefully or unconsciously: you look totally engulfed by the words on your otherwise empty chat with Namjoon, and Jeongguk can’t help but subtly lean his body lower to read the same texts you’re going through.

Kim Namjoon [4:26 a.m.]: Hey. Sorry for texting late, I heard from someone you threw up back at the party. I’m so sorry. I completely lost sight of you in that mess. Are you feeling any better? Very sorry again.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: It’s totally okay if you don’t want to hear from me again. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to make it up to you.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: I’d really like to take you out on a date. Would you let me?

Jeongguk kisses his teeth irkedly, “Why the fuck does he text like Prince William? Fucking English major,” and he truly tried his best to sound unaffected, but the words leave his mouth before he even knows he’s thinking of them.

Luckily, you don’t seem to notice, reading the message aloud like you can’t quite believe it yourself, “He said he’d like to go on a date with me. Like, he asked me on a date. And said he would like it. To go on a date—”

“Yes, we got it.”

“He doesn’t hate me, Gguk!” Once again, his petty comments go unnoticed as your face lights up, eyes crinkling with joy as you practically beam up at him.

Jeongguk wants to be annoyed, but he simply can’t when he’s met with all the stars in the universe right in your glossy, tired eyes. He swallows hard and forces a soft chuckle, “No, he doesn’t, toots. Anyone would be crazy to hate you.”

The grin on your lips only widens, nose scrunching adorably as you let your cheek sheepishly brush against your shoulder, “Oh my god, Gguk. I’m going on a date with him! Heh.”

“That’s nice,” he says, picking up the hairdryer again before your words can settle too heavily in the space between you. “I’m not finished with your hair, though. Stay still.”

The device roars to life once more, its noise filling the room and covering your excited giggles. Jeongguk keeps brushing through your hair with steady motions, his face impassive, but he feels something tighten, heavy and unyielding in his chest.

He tells himself the noise is a blessing, a shield from the silence he wouldn’t know how else to fill—or from the sound of his own voice, betraying him in ways he can’t afford.

────୨ৎ────

“I’ll miss the sex when Namjoon will ask me to be his girlfriend.”

In the quiet of the library, your sudden whisper startles Jeongguk. The chair screeches under him and it gains the both of you a few annoyed looks. He nods in apology at their way, moving closer to the table again, and he has to blink a few times before he can even meet your eyes. The scattered pens all over the white surface looked more interesting either way.

“When he— his— what?” He feels pathetic for being unable to even form a senseful sentence, but there’s no absolute way he blames his brain for that. It’s his heart, stuttering along with the barely intelligible question.

It cracks at the middle the more your grin splits your face in half, nose scrunching adorably, and he may be a horrible friend but he can’t bring himself to return your irony, nor the masked excitement under it.

If he were handed pen and paper and asked to write about how he feels right at this moment, he wouldn’t put down a single thing. Not because there isn’t anything to say. He fears your innocent teasing has done something catastrophic, snapping that one damned string that connected his brain to his heart, and the two aren’t communicating. Jeongguk is in the middle of two angered parents, fighting and on the brink of divorce. That’s what he gets for being a total pussy.

You shrug, frowning slightly when all you’re faced with is his blank expression, eyes unresponsive and detachedly looking elsewhere, but you keep yours on him, studying even the small movements, “I mean, he’s a nice guy. I think he’s serious about getting to know me.”

The word serious causes an involuntary twitch of his head, tilting almost imperceptibly to the side, and he sounds way too defensive, “And are you?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his unexpected reaction, you return to your previous mindless doodling, keeping your voice low, “Well, he’s cute. Let’s see where this thing goes.”

“What about me?”

The question catches the both of you off guard. Your pencil halts as you glance at him through the corner of your eye, and even if you can’t see him clearly, the way his dark orbs widen is almost comical that you would laugh in any other situation. But now, the air is oddly tense and it makes your nose scrunch in awkwardness.

He breaks it with a chuckle, a subtle tremor in it that luckily goes unnoticed by you but that will probably keep him up at night for the next five years, and he lightly shoves your shoulder in an effort at feigning ease, “You really wanna pass on this dick?”

“God, you’re gross,” the annoyed roll of your eyes has Jeongguk releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; it’s odd, but that’s just who he is.

The second you return to weightless banter, he’s back in his element. He can smirk, tease and deflect— these are tools he’s mastered over the months. But the thought of stripping naked for your eyes to see, and not in the sexual way you two engage in almost every night, terrifies him.

The waters are safe for what seems a fraction of a second before you pull him down in the deep, dark seas again, this dynamic between you foreign. While it is a simple, innocent question, your deceptive tone triggers unfamiliarity within him, “Besides, how’s it going with you and Haeun?”

“Huh? Oh. Haeun, yes,” his attempt at buying himself extra time is laughable, especially when Mr. Brain is now yelling at Ms. Heart for always wanting to get in the way of things he can handle alone, “Wonderfully. We— She— Huh, kissed me.”

Ms. Heart is furious. She has no other choice but to reach in her purse and slap the divorce papers on the dinner table, the glasses clinking against the plates, and Jeongguk flinches. Brain is speechless, clueless on how to react.

You only seem slightly taken aback, eyebrows raising in mild surprise, “Really? That’s nice.”

Jeongguk is equally clueless, subtly squeezing his eyes shut as if hoping to wake up somewhere else entirely, maybe in an ideal world where Kim Namjoon doesn’t exist and Mr. Brain and Ms. Heart are happily married.

Instead, he’s still in the library, and you’re still sitting next to him, scribbling on your English textbook. He frowns, getting pitiably lost in the view of your side profile, “Yeah, nice. Huh, when’s your date?”

When you glance up at him, you seem to be realizing just how odd it is for the two of you to spend this much time talking about your respective hook ups, and you cringe slightly at the unusual formality, wishing Jeongguk would just tease you like he usually does when you tell him about your untruthful and made up sexual adventures.

You purse your lips in thought, “Tomorrow, actually.”

“Oh. He’s going fast.”

“I like that.”

“I know you do.”

No matter the effort you put into trying to hide your amusement, a snort escapes you, and you quickly look away to recover from the childish grin spreading on your lips. You shake your head, closing the book in front of you, “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Jeongguk only smirks in an oddly proud way, nodding at your flustered state when he realizes he successfully managed yet again to shift the conversation from topics he doesn’t want to hear or talk about. He shrugs, “You just said that.”

“And I’ll say it again.”

“Whatever,” a small chuckle follows the dismissal, his hand coming to brush through his fluffy hair, getting too long for his liking, “I really wanted to see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jeongguk is way too honest, way too easily. Ms. Heart is marching hastily with Mr. Brain walking close behind, trying to make sense of the situation and pushing her to reconsider her actions, but it’s no use: she’s tired, and sick of being walked over, again and again.

He doesn’t like the underlying meaning behind that, and wishes Mr. Brain would grow a pair and just swoon her back into love again. Jeongguk doesn’t like the genuine surprise etched across your face either, or, well, he doesn’t like the effect it has on him: it’s almost unbearable to accept that the blush dusting your cheeks, the one you’re probably unaware of, is caused by his unfiltered honesty. Because sincere bluntness isn’t exactly something he tries to show. Then, why does it spill out of him uncontrollably? Why— why do you look so beautiful like this?

“Hm,” your smile is small, but your dimple betrays it, Jeongguk’s whole resolve cracking with the way you sound dangerously decisive, “Too bad. You’re late.”

Jeongguk shouldn’t overthink this. You’re simply engaging in the usual dynamic, teasing him like always, no reason for his palms to sweat. He shouldn’t panic over the way nothing about what you said feels simple, nor usual, and your tone carries more than what you both want the words to mean.

He doesn’t know if it’s a warning or a test—or worse, the truth. Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe Brain just misinterpreted the comment, too distracted by its constant squabble with Heart, both of them ignoring Jeongguk, who is still sitting at the cluttered kitchen table with his plate half-full, surrounded by a mess of inky emotions he doesn’t have the courage to clean up.

The sound of forks clinking against plates grates against his ears, drowning out the hurried excuses spilling from your mouth, the ones you’re babbling and making up along the way of gathering your things and standing up from the round table, shouldering your bag in the same hurry you left his room with before the next time he saw you was nose to nose with Namjoon.

You huff, giving a small, tight lipped smile that should be meaningless, but to Jeongguk it isn’t, “I’ll go now. See you around?”

“Huh, sure. Let me know how it goes with Namsun.”

You roll your eyes at the playful attempt, his grin just as empty, “Right. Bye Gguk.”

You’re off the hallway before he can add anything else. Not that he would have been able to. Your bag swings with your big steps, slim hands coming to absently tug your plaid skirt lower, and Jeongguk thinks and thinks.

He realizes he really doesn’t want to know how your little date goes. Would rather shoot himself rather than hearing you talk about another guy taking you out to dinner, stealing you from him and sealing the end to whatever the two of you have.

His options are narrowed. He either commits in front of you and forever changes the trajectory of your life or does something about Namjoon. But why does the option of ending his life sound much easier than stepping up to big, buff Namjoon, infatuated with the same girl he likes?

Oh.

The admission jolts him. It’s a physical reaction that causes his chair to shriek again under his movements, but this time he’s not polite enough to apologize for it. He must look crazy, wide eyes burning holes into his hands planted steadily on the table in front of him.

The girl he likes. You’re the girl he likes.

And every signal is there. The spark he sought for now lights a nervous feeling in his stomach, its fireworks interrupting Brain and Heart’s incessant arguing.

Does he look stupid not doing anything for the girl he likes? Not fighting for the girl he’s been falling for all this time?

────୨ৎ────

It should be easy. It is easy.

Jeongguk can’t let the sleepless night spent reciting lines to his ceiling go to waste. He’s sure not even theater kids could match his determination. And as he marches across campus toward the gym, where the squeak of sneakers and the echo of grunts will lead him to the person needed to put the plan into action, he reviews step by step what he’s told himself to do. It’s a well-rehearsed script, each word, every calculated expression—he’s gone over it a hundred times, accounting for every reaction.

Step one, be casual. Friendly, even. Approach Namjoon like there’s nothing calculated about this interaction—no ulterior motives, no scheme brewing beneath the surface. Just a casual catch-up between two guys.

“What’s up, Kim,” when Jeongguk spots the slightly taller boy exercising at a steady walking pace on the treadmill, he immediately hops onto the free one beside him.

Namjoon startles slightly, then smiles with those stupid, charming dimples of his, and it’s one that Jeongguk would probably only give if forced, “Hey, Jeongguk. Long time no see.”

The brown-haired boy nods, setting the speed and quickly catching up to Namjoon. He keeps his tone deliberately cool, even borderline disinterested, “You been good?”

On his left, your almost-boyfriend shrugs, jogging along, “Yeah, just studying, man. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” he hasn’t cracked open a book in weeks, and that study session from yesterday was just an excuse to be with you. But he can’t afford to let his thoughts linger on you too long or he’ll lose focus. He needs focus. “You catch that last game?”

Step two, pretend to care about what Namjoon is saying and then proceed with the acting skills only to suddenly remember something totally random he wanted to mention.

“Fuck, don’t remind me. I was so sure we would win,” the sweating man sounds way too affected by the recent football match, and Jeongguk fears if he asks one more question for the sake of pretending he’ll never get to the actual point.

So, he goes straight to it, “Yeah, it was rough. Oh, by the way. You know ___, right?”

The simple mention of your name causes a small stutter in Namjoon’s step, but he recovers with the stupid smile from earlier, only this time it’s wider, “Of course I know her. Why do you ask?”

Step three, just be honest. He just has to lay it all out. Be straightforward. Tell him the truth about how he’s felt for so long and what this whole thing with you is doing to him. It’s not a confrontation—it’s a conversation. Jeongguk will politely explain that he’s liked you for a while now, that he’s been in your life long before Namjoon, and, as a courtesy, he’d appreciate it if he would step back from pursuing you.

Civil. Calm. Totally chill. There’s absolutely nothing to get worked up over.

"You really don't know? Have no idea?" Jeongguk asks, his voice dropping, tone more pointed than he intended.

Namjoon slows his treadmill slightly, glancing over with furrowed brows and a faintly amused smile. “No, man. Enlighten me.”

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

What. The. Fuck.

That wasn’t the plan. Not even close to the plan.

────୨ৎ────

You feel stupid.

Wrapped around in your warmest coat, you still shiver. It could be the way your legs are exposed under your wool dress, high black boots reaching just beneath your knees. But there’s something else to the chill, making you shake in fading jitters. The excitement of the evening you told yourself you were looking forward to morphs into anxiety, and the passing looks of people mean more than they should as minutes tick and tick; they seem to glance at you for too long, their looks heavy with what you can only imagine is judgment.

A young girl swaddled in small but striking details from head to toe — delicate earrings that catch the light, a scarf knotted perfectly at the neck, polished nails clutching the strap of an expensive-looking bag, hair done up in a neat slicked bun — glancing nervously at her surroundings can only mean one thing: she’s been stood up.

Namjoon was supposed to meet you in front of the cozy cafè just outside the campus, its warm tones and surely even warmer ambience so very inviting. Maybe you’d go in, order a steaming hot chocolate for yourself, and chalk this up as a lesson learned. But instead, you chose to wait outside, shifting on your tiptoes every so often, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the first man to ask you out in what felt like ages.

You feel as though you’ll be forever destined to wait more when thirty minutes go by and Namjoon is nowhere to be seen.

You frown, swaying on your heels. What you feel is not disappointment— not at first. But that only causes you to feel worse about yourself when you realize you’re almost relieved the tall man hasn’t shown up, and he’s not here to turn fears into even scarier realities. The date would have given a concrete meaning to your actions, and the thought stirs something not exactly pleasant within you.

The scratch at the back of your mind grows harder to ignore, and no matter how much you try to shake it off, your subconscious finds ways back to it when your hand instinctively dives into the depths of the expensive purse you had specially chosen for this occasion. A purse meant to complement your carefully selected dark ensemble— an effort that now feels entirely wasted. You spent so much time getting ready for something you’re not ready for at all.

Pulling out your phone, your thumb scrolls to Jeongguk’s number with a natural automatism, typing before you even register why he’s the first person you feel the need to tell.

You [9:39 p.m.]: hi

You [9:39 p.m.]: namjoon stood me up lol

The typing bubbles appear faster than you anticipated, and as you watch them dance across the screen, you burrow deeper into the fragile warmth of your jacket, the tip of your nose numb from the cold.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: Whattttttt????

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: He’s such an asshooooooole

Your first instinct is to snort at his reaction, a childish grin tugging at your lips, but it turns into a scowl when the more you reread the text, the more it sounds weird. He usually never texts like a six-year-old using his mom’s iPad.

You [9:40 p.m.]: yes he is

You [9:40 p.m.]: why are u textin so weird btw lol

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: Wym weirddd

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: I’m totally normal

You [9:41 p.m.]: wtv

You [9:42 p.m.]: u still wanna hang out?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Yes please

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Want me to pick u up

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Where are u rn

The head tilt is unconscious, but you feel it click in place. You’ve mentioned how Jeongguk is caring, how he can read your needs like no one else and caters to them quietly, but he’s never this pliant, this malleable. You like him because it’s hard to get him to bend (and you’d rather die than let Jeongguk know about this).

You [9:43 p.m.]: is ok

You [9:43 p.m.]: i’ll just walk

You [9:43 p.m.]: be there in 10

The walk usually takes you less than 10 minutes, but before meeting him, you decide to head back to your dorm and change out of these stupid fancy clothes you picked out for the date.

You keep your head low as you walk through the hallways, the full glam you put on impossible to miss as it sparkles under the fluorescent lights, just as your boots' heels echo through the corridors.

Taking off the dress and heels feels like peeling away the embarrassment of rejection, the weight of disappointment settling in as you realize you couldn’t prove to yourself that you could do it, that you can do it, take the leap and let something serious into your life.

You question whether you're even cut out for it when the guy who seemed perfect ended up proving the opposite.

Now, back in more comfortable clothes — Jeongguk's black hoodie from the other day and baggy sweatpants — you feel a little more like yourself. Scared of emotions, scared of commitment, no matter how many hours of your day are spent daydreaming about it.

The second you click the door of your room open, it’s like you can smell a weird shift in the air. And you do, literally sniff, scanning your surroundings for any hint of something burning or out of place.

But it’s not about the dorm in its physical state, no— it’s the odd silence that you’re met with, the people you’re used to sharing the space with now uncharacteristically careful with their volume.

“Oh my god, ___,” that is probably why you’re visibly startled by the sudden voice coming from your side, Iseul looking like containing excitement is the hardest task she’s ever been asked to deal with, just like the few other girls behind her, all practically vibrating, “You’re finally here.”

You furrow your brows, chuckling confusedly at the unusuality of it all— well, it’s not like you don’t get along with these people. It’s just that you’ve never gone over meaningless jokes and talks about the state of the dorm, plus you’ve never exactly been the center of attention like this. It feels off, and it reflects in your uncertain tone, “I am?”

“I’m so happy for you,” Binna chimes in next, grabbing your shoulders with way more enthusiasm than the level of your relationship with her would normally allow, and the way all of their heads nod along that it feels like a coordinated performance is starting to scare you.

“You’re… happy for—”

“I’ve always known you and Jeongguk were perfect for each other,” the affection dripping from Binna’s voice sickens you, maybe even more than the words she’s speaking.

Huh?

You swear you feel your heart skip a long beat before you mask it with an obnoxious, nervous laugh, only growing more when none of them crack a smile or react, “Me and— okay, is this a fucking joke?”

“C’mon, ___,” Iseul says, her sweet voice doing nothing to calm your tension, and if anything it only heightens it, “You don’t need to hide anymore, Jeongguk told Namjoon that you’re his girlfriend.”

Oh. So this must be a fucking joke.

And you can’t stand it.

You barely manage to shake off their relentless curiosity, the entire dorm suddenly buzzing with an interest in you after years of peaceful and civil indifference, and it only overwhelms you to the brim.

Fury boils in your chest as you step out of the building, the cold air failing to cool the anger that flares up within you. With every step, your frustration grows, and you hastily type on your phone as you make your way toward the one person that’s responsible for your temper.

You [10:07 p.m.]: what the actual fuck jeongguk

The response comes so quickly, almost as if he were waiting for you to type it, and you scoff in disbelief. In that moment, you feel a twisted sense of understanding with serial killers. It makes you question how much control you actually have over yourself.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:07 p.m.]: What’s up?

You [10:07 p.m.]: why’s the whole dorm asking me how's it like to be your gf?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: Eeehhhh???

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: That’s so weird

You’re actually gonna fuck this man up.

You [10:09 p.m.]: jeon jeongguk.

You [10:09 p.m.]: they’re saying you told namjoon i’m your girlfriend.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:09 p.m.]: Don’t use my full name and the period please 🥺

You [10:10 p.m.]: i’ll fucking kill you.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:10 p.m.]: You’re so hot when you’re like this

You [10:10 p.m.]: shut the hell up.

The banging on his door comes shortly after, and Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch. He knows it’s you, and frankly he was even expecting your arrival to be louder, hit him a little harder than it does. And when he lets you in, you storm in his space with no room for oxygen, door closing behind you but unable to contain the volume of your rage private.

“Can you explain why the whole campus thinks we’re dating? ‘Cause you’re not my boyfriend, and I’m not your girlfriend, and this is not fucking funny.”

But Jeongguk evidently does find it funny, chuckling under his hand coming to cover his mouth while the other one lifts to show you the bright screen of his cracked phone, “Really? The uni Instagram page is shipping us.”

“Shipping us?” You snatch the device from his hands, eyes widening as you scroll through the amount of stories posted in the last hour, everyone and their mother feeling entitled to weigh in on your nonexistent relationship. You whine, a hand resting at your forehead in disbelief, “Oh my god, this is ridiculous.”

“What, are you ashamed of me?” Jeongguk asks casually, walking back and sitting on the bed with a soft thud, his whole demeanor relaxed with a nonchalance that makes your left eye twitch.

You scoff, unwilling to grasp how this is even an actual thing happening to you, tossing the phone back at him, “A little bit, yeah. You think this is a fucking joke, huh? I’m now apparently dating the uni’s most popular fuckboy.”

The damned boy in front of you leans on his forearms, pouting just for show, “Hey, that’s mean. I’m no fuckboy.”

Bag thrown to the ground with a violence that it does not deserve, you start pacing back and forth in his room, letting out a borderline insane laugh, not knowing whether to scream or cry, “Yes, you are. You went through every single girl in this building.”

“Do you really think of me like that?”

The sudden sincerity that you think you spot in his tone makes you halt your steps, body turning to him as he sits straight again, his head tilting slightly.

You sigh, frustration mounting, and you throw your head back at the ceiling for any signal from the universe that this is indeed a joke, a bad, huge joke on you, “Jeongguk. Please.”

Silence fills the room next, but it doesn’t make it any easier to think nor does it quite register in your brain, mind racing with jumbled and chaotic thoughts, barely coming through as coherent words, getting intertwined with one another.

But the more you walk from one side of the room to the other, the more you’re almost able to untangle the mess, just enough to start processing what’s happening.

Then, a nuclear bomb wipes it all out, Jeongguk’s words the missile, his quiet tone the explosion, “I don’t want you to see nobody else.”

“What the fuck?”

The aftermath of the destruction is not only loud, ears ringing with a shrieking alarm going off, your figure stiff with shock, but you feel its heat burning your whole body in consuming flames that threaten to swallow you whole if you don’t let them take over, rise, flood every nerve until all you can feel is the rage boiling in your veins when you practically scream at him, ”What the hell does that even mean? You're being selfish!”

“Am I?” Jeongguk asks calm, calculated, gaze locked on yours as if daring you to challenge him further. His tone is maddeningly measured even as he pushes himself off the bed and closes the distance between you.

It’s like he’s planned this— attack after attack designed to destabilize you completely. Not only did he thrust you into the spotlight without warning, claiming you for the whole campus to see as if you’re worth nothing more than a stupid prank and a few laughs.

But now he talks with a grace that belies the chaos he’s stirred, as if his words are just another fact, something as simple as the weather, “I haven’t been seeing anybody since this summer. Since we started using no condom.”

Your pupils tremble with something far more complex than just anger, though you refuse to give it a name. He’s practically towering over you, his stance purposeful, making you feel small; as if the intensity of his gaze is not enough that it makes you falter, as if the humiliation he’s putting you through isn’t either. Head shaking, your voice does too, “That’s— not true. You’re a fucking liar. You— What about Haeun?

“Nothing even happened with her.”

The speed of his denial sets you off, an incredulous scoff breaking free as you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek—a habit you’d picked up from witnessing his easy tempers, “Then why did you tell me you kissed?”

“Because—” Jeongguk hesitates, and the pause is so out of character that it almost gives you whiplash. The boy who always has something to say suddenly seems unsure. His hand flexes at his side, a nervous tick you hadn’t noticed before, and he exhales as if the words are fighting their way out of him, “‘Cause— I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Your voice cracks on the word, a laugh bubbling out of you that’s sharp and fractured, borderline unhinged. It cuts through the room like broken glass, and his expression tightens, jaw clenching. But he doesn’t interrupt.

“Jealous,” you repeat, louder this time, your incredulous tone thick with rage. “You’re telling me you made up that bullshit because you were jealous?”

He doesn’t respond, and it pushes you closer to your limit, on the verge of exploding. You don’t know how you find it within you, but with a long exhale and a quick prayer up at the ceiling, you meet his gaze in an almost patronizing manner, “Jeongguk, we are not exclusive. I thought that was well implied. You don’t get to act like this. You don’t get to be jealous.”

Nodding along to your words, Jeongguk’s brows draw together, his expression somewhere between anxious and defensive. There’s something in his eyes, something close to fear, but fear of what, you can’t quite place.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than yours, as though he’s trying to keep it from breaking, “I know. We both agreed to that, yes. We’re both allowed to see other people.”

The words feel rehearsed, like he’s repeated them to himself a hundred times. But with the silence stretching, it’s clear he’s struggling to say more. His lips press together briefly, and his gaze flicks to yours, searching. It’s as though he’s waiting — no, hoping — you’ll interject, offer something to fill the space.

You don’t. You hold firm, tilting your head slightly, your confusion evident. Your wide, questioning eyes, so big, so honest, pull the truth from him in a way you don’t intend, and he exhales like it’s been forced out of him.

“But I don’t want you to.”

The sheer audacity of his words hits you like a slap, the kind that stings more because of its unexpectedness. You snort, although there’s nothing particularly amusing about your heart cracking at the middle, but you manage to keep it from resounding in your words, "That’s so fucking mean. Do you even hear yourself? You get to fuck whoever you want, and I’m kept hostage? And now—now everybody thinks we’re dating!"

"That’s good," he says, simple, unflinching.

You blink, disbelief coursing through you as your lips part in a strangled gasp. "What?" The word is half a whisper, half a shout, and it escapes before you can temper it, "You’re so selfish. I fucking hate you.”

The emotion is foreign from what you’re used to showing him, softness in quiet ways, affection in silent gestures. But now, it’s all loud rage, the opposite of love spilling out of you in volatile waves. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, itching for release, something, anything to make him feel the way you’re being forced to feel, to cut through the weight of his seemingly impassive expression showing only the barest twitch in his brows, a crack too small to satisfy your anger.

It isn’t enough. You need more.

Your palms find his chest, shoving him with the force of every burning feeling inside you. “You’re stupid,” you spit, watching him take the push without exactly budging, like he’s made of stone. It only stokes your frustration further, your hands pushing again, harder this time. “And dumb.”

Jeongguk doesn’t step back, doesn’t fight you. He stands there, his chest steady, absorbing your hits without a word. His lack of resistance only makes the storm inside you rage harder, and the tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over.

You scramble for more, anything to turn the reality of what you truly feel into the illusion of anger, “And— and— Why the fuck are you silent! Say something!” You aim another punch at his chest, but it’s impossibly weaker, the exhaustion showing in your useless attempts at getting at him.

You sniff, and you know you lost against his indifference, your voice wavering feeling like a confession you didn’t mean to make. “Asshole. You’re being so mean. You’re making me cry.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Only the tears slipping rapidly from your eyes get his resolve to crumble. His hands are on you instantly, gripping your shoulders gently but firmly, refusing to let you squirm away. You slap at them weakly, but his touch is steady, his fingers brushing strands of hair from your face, cupping your chin to tilt it up toward him.

“Toots, no. Hey, hey,” he whispers, his tone soft in a way that disarms you completely. His thumb swipes at a stray tear, but your face turns away, evading him like it’s your only line of defense. He doesn’t back down, “Stop crying. Hey, look at me. Will you?”

“Stop calling me that!” You finally snap, jerking your face away again. The tears are spilling faster now, no matter how much you want to fight them, no matter how much you want to cling to the fury. “I hate you. You’re fucking all the girls in this college, and I’m only fucking you, because— because—”

“God,” Jeongguk groans, exasperation dripping from his tone. You’re about to hurl another half-formed insult or maybe even take a swing at him again, aiming low, but his next words stop you cold.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His tone is quieter now, more deliberate, the vulnerability in it cutting sharper than anything else he’s said. “I like you. I broke the rule.”

You’re sure your heart will fail you today. It misses at least four beats, and it steals the oxygen from your lungs, along with the color from your face.

You stammer, eyes widening as your pulse picks up again and pounds in your ears. “Don’t—don’t say shit like that. I swear to God, I’ll actually fuck you up. Stop���lying to me.”

“What the fuck, ___? I’m not lying to you,” Jeongguk’s voice attempts to be steady but it can’t hide the desperation, as if he’s holding on by a thread. “Why would I?”

The question is simple.

Why would Jeongguk lie to you? Does he have a reason to fake this?

The world seems to tilt, the ground beneath you shifting in some irreparable way.

You should feel scared. You should feel repulsed at the thought of commitment, the weight of his words pressing against you like a cage. But you don’t.

Instead, your eyes dart between his, searching for cracks in his sincerity, like a frantic spectator watching a tennis match, every glance like a volley in the game of something bigger than either of you. The matchpoint sends a thrill through your chest, something overwhelming and terrifying but not unwelcome.

Jeongguk watches you closely, feeling the weight of the silence between you stretch on longer than he can handle. He knows he’s the one that should break it, knows the truth he’s holding inside has to be spoken now.

It’s now or never. He can’t keep pretending—this isn’t just some casual thing to him, and he’s not ready to let it slip away without a fight. You’ve become everything he didn’t know he needed, and yet here he is, paralyzed by the fear of rejection, of being vulnerable, of watching the one thing he wants most slip right through his fingers.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If he doesn’t speak up now, he’ll lose everything. His fear has no place in this moment anymore.

It’s a long exhale before his voice drops in soft honey, shaking with the weight of the truth, “Look. I know it’s hard to trust me. You’ve seen me fuck up multiple times over this stuff. But I want to stop this cycle. I want to allow myself something good,” his eyes search for any signal that he should stop talking, but in yours he finds every reason for him not to, “And you’re everything good that life will ever concede me. I can't… I can't let you go. I can't lose you.”

"Jeongguk…" His name slips from your lips like a prayer you've been too afraid to speak aloud until now. But you see it— he’s ready to find every solution, even if it means confronting the fear that has held him back for so long.

“I like you so much it’s killing me,” he admits, voice low and raw, every syllable cracking with vulnerability.

It’s a slow realization, like a tide that comes in quietly, softly. You’ve felt its caress for so long, and now that it embraces you wholly, you feel your heart expand, filling with the same warmth, the same longing.

The words you wish you could say are caught in your throat. You look up at him, eyes wide, trying to comprehend, to take in what he’s offering. You’re almost afraid to ask, as if the answer will shatter something you’ve worked so hard to protect, “You like me?”

“I lose my fucking mind when it comes to you.” His confession is a rush of honesty that sweeps through you, his eyes not leaving yours, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.

The world feels like it’s slowing down. There’s so much you’ve been holding back, but you don’t know how to make the words fit, how to make them sound right.

Jeongguk takes a small step back, his voice quieter but still heavy with emotion. “It’s okay if you wanna end it here,” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper, like he’s bracing for the worst. “At least it wasn’t because you got with some other stupid guy.”

You shake your head, the thought of losing him too painful to bear. “Stop—” You let out a frustrated sigh, hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you’re so dumb. This could have been so much easier if you’d told me sooner.”

He looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You feel your chest tighten, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. “I like you too,” you admit, the words finally leaving your lips hastly, like they were just waiting for the right moment. “I agreed to the date because I thought you were still… fucking around.”

His face softens, and there’s a flash of relief in his eyes. “I wasn’t. Haven’t been in so long.”

“...No Haeun?”

“Hell no. I don’t want no kiss if it isn’t from you.”

You laugh, a low sound that fills the air between you. “Cheesy fucker,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest now, a feeling you can’t ignore. “Well, if you want to know, I wasn’t seeing anybody either. Namjoon asked me out randomly, but I haven’t been with anyone else since… this started.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, everything is quiet. He looks at you like he’s just heard something he never expected to hear. “Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk steps closer to you, his hands reaching for you, voice thick, “I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to make you cry. It’s breaking my heart.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, gently wiping away the remnants of the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with both regret and tenderness. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I’m sorry for yelling all that stuff at you. I don’t hate you. I…”

Before you can finish, his lips crash against yours, and all the confusion, all the fears, prove themselves to be worth this moment.

They dissolve into something real, the kiss trying to make up for lost time, for all the things left unsaid.

When you pull away, your foreheads resting together, Jeongguk’s voice is quiet but determined. “Come here, baby. You’re mine.”

“Prove it.”

[badbtssmut]

Magic Stick

Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

Admin note: idea by anon

Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot

—

“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.

”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.

“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.

"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.

"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"

"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.

"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.

"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.

“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.

"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.

"Really?" You were skeptical.

"I've always had a big dick." He added.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”

"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.

"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."

"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.

“Will my boobs make you hard?“

“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.

"Like what you see?" You teased.

"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.

"Want to touch them?"

"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.

"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.

“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.

"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.

Holy shit.

How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.

"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.

"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.

"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.

"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.

You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.

“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.

"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.

"I bet I can." You challenged him.

"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.

“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.

"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.

"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.

You got this.

Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.

Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.

The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.

“Want it.” You whined.

“Yeah?” He whispered.

"Yeah."

He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?

Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.

"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.

"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.

You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.

Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.

"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.

Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.

“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”

“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.

“You can move now." You gave him permission.

Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.

The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.

Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.

You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.

His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.

You had never felt anything like it before.

"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.

Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.

The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.

“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.

Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.

You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.

"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.

"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.

Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.

"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.

"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.

“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.

“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.

“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.

"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.

Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me 200 bucks.”

[girlygguk]

NOT JUST ON CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

he's the first boy you've ever brought home for christmas. jungkook's nervous. you're horny.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 4 of 6

pairing nerdy!jk x gf!reader

genre established relo, college au, fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, spirited extro gf x soft angel bf, jk comes home w oc for the holidays, he’s so soft and shy, until he isn’t oop, i triedd w the context but this rlly is just oc getting the xmas dicking she deserves, kissing, cursing, switchy soft dom jk, giddy subby oc, they try to keep quiet, keyword try, dirty talk, cunnilingus, jk's a munch, condomless p in v sex, oc on pill, creampie, they're literal angels & i would die for them

word count 4.8k

banner by the gorgeously gifted @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

“My mom loves you.”

“You think?” Jungkook’s lips tilt into a soft smile, his hand warm and steady as it glides over your thigh, draped comfortably across his waist. “She’s amazing. I see her in you a lot.”

Your nose scrunches as you smile softly into the curve of his arm, your fingers absently tracing along his chest. When your nails graze over his nipple, you feel it perk up under your touch, and you can’t resist pressing a light kiss to the skin beneath your lips.

“You’re so easy to love, baby,” you murmur, your voice muffled slightly against his arm. But you know he hears you from the way his chest rises and falls a little faster, betraying the quiet effect you always have on him. “Had me whipped from the first time I saw you.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows cutely, the same expression he always makes when you say this. He never quite believes it, even now. You can tell he’s picturing that day—how you noticed him tucked into the back of the freshman seminar, seated in a corner with his laptop angled slightly, like a shield in case someone dared to take the empty seat beside him.

That someone had been you.

Coming to Seoul for university had been a big deal—not just for you, but for your family and everyone back home in Namhae-gun who’d cheered you on. You weren’t naturally gifted in academics the way your boyfriend was, but you worked hard, just like he did. You’d taken every extra shift you could at your local little grocer, worked the after-school care program at Sannie’s elementary school, and with some help from your mom and stepdad, you pieced together what your scholarship didn’t cover.

With that, you packed your clothes and favorite trinkets from your childhood bedroom, said goodbye to your family and the friends you’d known your whole life, and set off for the big, bright Seoul city.

It was bittersweet. Namhae-gun had been your whole world, but Seoul was your dream. And now, as you looked at Jungkook beside you, his pretty face soft in the dim light of your room, you realized he was now your new both. Your world and your dream. Your present and your future.

You still talked to your best friends, Lila and Jimin, nearly every night over FaceTime, Jungkook joining most times. He’d been so adorably shy the first time they demanded to meet him, visibly nervous they wouldn’t like him. It still baffled you sometimes, how he could think that way. How he didn’t see himself the way you did.

Because, in your eyes, he was everything. The cutest, dorkiest, sexiest nerd you’d ever met—you’d kill for him. You knew Lila and Jimin would fall for him too. And they did.

Your extroverted best friends even begged him for his socials, which he shyly handed over, his cheeks pink as he spoke out his handles. He almost choked on his own saliva when Lila let out the loudest moan mid-call, suddenly thrusting her iPad at the screen to show his latest post. It was a photo of the two of you at the beach—you, in a little multicolored bikini holding the camera out, and Jungkook with his big, wet chest on full, bare display beside you.

You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement at her thirsting over your handsome boyfriend, cupping the side of his burning face as he ducked his head into your neck. His linked arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as you nestled in his lap.

“Angel?” he murmured quietly into your neck. “Why would she say t-that?”

The disappointment—and maybe even slight annoyance—in his pouty tone made you want to slam your laptop shut and take him as far down your throat as you could. Instead, you’d cooed softly, turning your head to kiss his warm cheek and whispering in his ear that she was, in fact, a raging lesbian.

“Oh,” he whispered back, tickling your skin. “Okay.” His pout relaxed, and you felt the softest, relieved little smile on his lips against your neck.

You had bitten back a moan of your own at how much that turned you on, turning to pepper his round cheek with a hundred kisses until his blush faded and the corners of his lips tugged into a cute little bunny grin. You smiled fondly at the memory of Jimin groaning dramatically while Lila yelled at you to go lower.

“Your stepdad asked me to join him for golf tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s soft, nervous voice pulls you from your thoughts. You hum in surprise and beam up at him, fingers brushing lightly along his tummy. “Really? Oh, baby, that’s so great. Are you going to go?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, swallowing hard. His throat bobs as he glances down at you, your cheek now pressed against his chest. His hand lingers at your waist, fingers curling gently into your soft skin. “Would you… would you like to come?”

You coo softly, nodding as your lips brush the curve of his collarbone. “If you want me to, honey,” you murmur, your mouth pressing a little kiss to his pebbled nipple. His chest stutters with a throaty breath, and you grin against his skin. “I’d love to.”

“Always want you to come with me, baby,” he breathes, his voice unsteady as you tilt your head, lips wrapping softly around the bud. Your gaze drifts up lazily to his beautiful face, his eyes already half-lidded. “E-everywhere I go. Wish I could take you.”

“Mmm.” The hum vibrates against his chest as your hand slides up to scratch lightly over his other nipple, your teeth grazing over the one caught between your lips. His hips shift beneath you, his breath catching as his pants pick up. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, my love."

Jungkook tries to stifle the whine rising in his throat, but it slips out anyway, soft and desperate, when your teeth scrape just a little harder over his nipple. His fingers flex at your waist, gripping you tighter.

“Ahh,” he heaves under his breath, his head lolling softly into the pillow. “Baby, we-we can’t.”

You hum, brow arching slightly in amused defiance. “And why is that, honey?” Your lips brush over both of his nipples, one flushed red and swollen from your mouth, the other stiff and sensitive from your nails.

“B-because,” he stammers, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch you tossing the blanket off your waists and shifting to straddle his lap. His breath hitches as your thighs settle around him, your body hovering prettily above his. He swallows hard, his focus slipping as he tries to gather himself. “Your parents, angel. What if they—”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, your palms flattening against his chest as you lean in to steal his breath. His exhale trembles through his nose, and he lets out a desperate mewl when he tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing your lips. You pull back just enough to keep him chasing you.

“Their room’s on the other side of the house, my darling,” you murmur against his lips, your voice low and sweet. “So is Sannie’s. Nobody’s gonna hear your cute little noises.��

Jungkook flushes a deep pink at that, his pout immediate and utterly adorable. You dissolve into giggles, your nose brushing his as he huffs. He doesn’t correct you, though. He knows better and so do you. You’re always the one who can’t stay quiet during sex, no matter how much he whispers please, baby, they’re gonna hear us against your skin.

The thought makes your heart race. Sometimes you still can’t believe he was a virgin before you. Not with the way he fucks. Sweet and shy as he is, Jeon Jungkook turns into something else entirely when he’s inside you.

Your first time together had been soft and clumsy and perfect. Tucked into the covers of his dorm bed while his roommate Taehyung spent the night at his girlfriend’s place. He’d asked if you were okay a hundred times, his hands shaking against your skin as he moved so carefully, so sweetly. You’d never felt more loved.

But the second time?

Once he stopped asking if you were alright every thirty seconds, once he started trusting you when you told him you fucking loved it and to keep going, he went.

Oh, how he fucking went.

That second night, your own roommate had come back early—earlier than she said she would—and screamed the moment she opened the door. She’d walked in to find your shy, soft-spoken, nerdy boyfriend fucking you raw from behind on your bed, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusted you back and forth on his cock, your makeup-smeared face buried in the pillow, your throat raw from begging.

“We’ll be quiet,” you lie softly against his mouth, your lips brushing his as you lean back down, rolling your hips over his stiffening cock. The thin fabric of your Christmas pajama shorts drags over his matching pants, the friction making him shudder beneath you. “Haven’t fucked me since yesterday morning, baby,” you pout, leaning up with a little huff, bouncing brattily in his lap. “You hate me.”

“D-don’t ever say that again, baby,” he husks, his voice so fucking low as you begin to grind your slickening core against him. “Love you more than life itself.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your tone turning smug, satisfied. You drag yourself along the length of him again, slow and pointed, humming at the way he twitches beneath you. Leaning down, you hover just over his parted lips, so close your breaths mingle. “You love me that much, baby?”

He’s fighting it—you can see it. The way his jaw tightens, his brows knitting. His throat works around a sound he’s determined to swallow. His resolve is wavering. His control crumbling—or crumbled, he doesn't fucking know—as you roll your hips again, the wet heat of you seeping through the fabric between you.

“That mu-much, baby,” he chokes out, his voice strained. His long fingers dig gently into the soft flesh of your waist, guiding you as you move against him, his grip both a plea and a surrender all at once.

Your lips curl into a triumphant smile against his as you grind yourself back and forth with just a bit more pressure. You feel the way his breath hitches, the way his resistance falters. He knows he’s already lost.

And you know it too when his big hands slide under the hem of your little green singlet, patterned with tiny reindeers and snowflakes, gripping your hips firmly before flipping you both over.

Your big eyes blink up at him, maybe a little too giddy, as he hovers above you. He shakes his head softly, his bunny nose twitching, and then leans down to take the kind of kiss he’s been craving all day.

The kind of kiss he’s wanted since dinner, when your parents were fawning over him between bites of food, praising him for everything from his sweet nature to his thoughtful gift for San.

The one he hasn’t had a chance to steal since he was sitting nervously beside you on the living room couch, watching your baby brother open the limited-edition Iron Man figure Jungkook had picked out just for him. Sannie had sprinted up to your boyfriend, his tiny arms wrapping around him, hugging him so tight and calling him the best hyungie he’s ever had.

And, yeah, okay, maybe he cried a little.

It’s the first time all day he’s had you to himself, the first time since yesterday afternoon. The afternoon he’d spent with you in the communal kitchen at your college, baking the Christmas tree-shaped cookies you’d brought home for your family in a big container.

The same cookies he had snuck an extra one to Sannie, even when you told your little brother no more after two. He couldn't help it, folding instantly when the adorable kid tugged on his sleeve with those big, pleading eyes—the ones that reminded him a little too much of you.

Jungkook thought you hadn’t noticed, but of course you did. You’d stood quietly in the doorway, watching as your gentle giant boyfriend snuck two cookies from the container and handed one to San, his lips twitching with a soft laugh when your brother shoved the whole thing into his mouth like Jungkook might change his mind and take it back.

The feeling of your lips wrapping around his tongue pulls him back to the present, and he lets out a breathy groan into your mouth. You swallow it greedily, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as you tug his warm, solid weight down into you, relishing in having him pressed so heavily against you.

“Needa be quiet, baby,” he says, his voice low and breathy, maybe even a little whiny as he pulls away reluctantly. “C-can’t have your dad hearing us. I won’t be able to play golf with him tomorrow if I can’t look him in the eye.”

You hum as your lips chase his, dazed and unbothered. “You hate golf,” you murmur absently, your hands sliding up to cradle the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing soft, hot skin. Then your tongue slips past his lips again.

He lets out something between a grunt and a laugh, his resistance melting away as his big tongue laps against yours. You taste the faint trace of toothpaste as you kiss him deeper, chasing every last hint of it, your body tingling as you take his tongue further into your mouth.

It’s no surprise that he’s already fully hard, just like it’s no surprise that you’re already fucking drenched. His stiff cock presses down against your stomach, and your hips buck instinctively at the feeling, a mewly moan spilling from your lips without care.

His hand slides up from your waist to wrap gently around your throat, and your brows furrow in pleased anticipation through closed eyes, silently hoping he’ll squeeze harder. He does, in a way, his fingers pressing softly against the sides of your neck, enough to make your head spin. The kiss slows as he pulls back slightly, leaving you pouty and blinking up at him.

His cheeks are flushed, his soft lips slightly swollen, his big, gorgeous nose marked faintly on the bridge from where his glasses had rested earlier. He looks down at you before speaking, his voice reluctant, heavy with the words he feels he has to say.

“Quiet, please, angel.”

You lick your lips, trying to chase more of his taste. “Okay, cutie,” you say with a sweet smile, nodding softly as you gaze up at him. “I’ll be quiet.”

His tongue darts out to lick over his lips, as if he’s doing the same as you, before he smiles knowingly. “Liar.”

He’s back on your mouth, his fingers still brushing softly over your throat as his lips capture yours again. This time, he takes your tongue into his mouth, sucking in a way that’s both soft and firm, pulling wet, breathy pants from you chest. Your ankles tighten around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. There’s not even any fucking space between you, but you're not a quitter, grinding pathetically up into him, hips searching for the angle you need.

And then you find it.

“mmmM,” you whine as his hard, covered cock presses perfectly through your pussy lips.

Jungkook groans low into your mouth at the feeling, his lips and tongue moving with messily with yours. He’s devouring you, the wet, sticky sounds of your kissing filling the room as you grind yourself shamelessly against him. The friction is heavy, perfect as his cock is stiff and hot beneath the thin barrier of his pajama pants. Your hips move instinctively, searching for more, harder, faster, anything to ease the ache between your legs.

His hand tightens around your throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep your head swimming. His lips break from yours with a slick little pop, leaving your lips humming and eyes hazy as they meet his flushed face. His eyes are wide and wet as his grip on your neck loosens, trailing down to your waist.

“Needa taste it, baby,” he rasps, his voice wrecked as he slips lower, dragging his big frame down the bed. “Please baby? Need to taste you.”

The words make your head spin, and you breathing out a pleading god yes baby as his hands grip the waistband of your shorts, tugging them and your panties down in one motion. The cool air against your slick heat makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his big tongue licking a fat stripe right up your drippy folds.

“Baby—fuckk,” you breathe, your thighs trembling as his mouth works into you. He’s messy with it, always is, his tongue dipping inside your hole, then dragging back up to swivel around your clit. His big nose presses against you as he eats, throat humming and brows furrowing like they always do when he tastes a really good dish.

He pulls back just enough to breathe out, “S-so yummy, baby. I love it. Love it so fucking much.” His lips latch onto your clit, sucking it between his lips and humming dirtily, making your hips jerk up into his face.

“Hahhh,” you whimper, your voice high and dumb as your hands tangle in his hair, tugging hard when his tongue flicks even faster. “Shit, Jung- baby, uuh—”

Jungkook moans into your pussy, the sound high-pitched and needy, vibrating against your soppy heat. His jaw drops as he pushes in deeper, taking your whole pussy into his big mouth, completely forgetting the need for either of you to shut the fuck up. You’re dripping everywhere, your slick coating his lips and chin, and he laps it all up like an eager dog, his hands gripping your plushy thighs to keep you spread wide.

He lifts his head just long enough to suck in a breath before gathering a thick pool of spit in his mouth. He leans back down, face burying between your legs, and lets the saliva drool onto your folds before dragging his tongue through the mess, licking and lapping it all back up greedily.

Your body writhes under him, your head sinking back into the pillow as one hand fists tighter in his hair and the other grips the sheets desperately. Your mind reels, fragments of random thoughts flashing through it—the curve of the statue of liberty, the lucky quarter you found on your walk with him in the city, the moment you first kissed. Everything and nothing blurs together and you realize with a hum that your life is flashing right before your fucking eyes.

You’re trembling, vibrating against the bed, choking on the little noises slipping from your lips. Another uh. And another. And another.

“God, baby. That’s— uh, fuck. So fucking good. Eat your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook whimpers into you, his voice muffled by your cunt as his head follows the desperate rut of your hips. You buck against his mouth, but his hands hold you down, his tongue relentless. “My pussy,” he breathes against your folds, the words so adorably possessive. “It’s my pussy, baby.”

“That's r-right,” you gasp, your head lifting weakly to meet the sight of him—his face filthy, drenched, his mouth and nose buried in your heat as he tongue fucks your cunt like it's his last day on earth. “Your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook groans against you, wet and desperate, his hips shifting against the mattress as he thrusts into nothing, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He knows he’s close—so close that it’s embarrassing. He can feel himself leaking through the fabric, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s cumming right there in his pajama pants.

And you know it too. So you beg.

"Please, baby. Wanna cum with you, Kookie... Please."

His face morphs into a little pout as he slows, pulling away from his meal reluctantly, tongue flicking one last time at your puffy folds before his hands leave your thighs. He’s panting as he climbs back up your body, unable to deny you anything in the world, lips and chin glistening with your slick.

You smile at his wet face, your hands slipping up into his messy curls as you tug him down for a kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue is heady, dizzying, and you let out a little moan as you suck every last bit of it from his mouth. Jungkook groans into it, the sound so low that it almost resembles a cute little growl.

When you pull back, giving his swollen, red pout one last kiss, your gaze flickers down to his hand rubbing over his painfully hard cock. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing back up to meet his as you blink, waiting patiently.

He licks his lips, leaning down for one more quick kiss as his fingers fumble at his waistband. There’s a soft shuffle, and then his cock is free, flushed and heavy in his hand as he slides it against your slick folds. Your breath catches as he lines himself up, his hooded gaze locked on yours, brows furrowed in concentration.

He doesn’t need to look. His cock presses into you with an ease that has you keening, the thick head stretching you open as he pushes in. You feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper, feeding you more and more until your nails dig into his shoulders. The burn makes your jaw fall open, your head tipping back against the pillow.

“Ah,” he groans, his voice breaking as he bottoms out. “It’s so warm, baby—”

You’re already trembling, your walls fluttering around him as he starts to move, pulling out all the way before sinking right back in. “So big, Jungkookie,” you whimper, your fingers gripping his shoulders. “F-fuck, I love your dick so much.”

“Yeah?”

There it fucking is.

“You love it, baby? Love this fucking cock, baby?” he rasps, his hips snapping harder now, the loud, wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the room.

“It’s yours.” Slap. “Your fucking cock.” Slap. “Will always be your fucking cock.”

Your pussy clamps around him, eyes rolling back as choked fucks spill from your lips. You can’t answer, your voice lost to your moans, your body arching into his as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting that spot inside that makes your vision blur. You barely register the slam of the headboard against the wall, too cock-drunk to care as he presses a big hand to your belly.

“Feel that?” he growls, his palm firm against your abdomen. “Feel me, baby? Fucking up inside of you right here?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, your hands scrambling for purchase against his back. “Oh my god, yes, yes—”

His other hand slides up your body, under your singlet to find your nipple and roll it between his fingers. The sensation makes you jerk against him, your cries spilling freely now. “So loud,” he mutters, though his lips quirk like he’s fucking proud of it. “God, you just can’t help it, can you, baby?”

He knows you love it when he talks to you like this. You’ve told him so more than once. He didn’t know how he felt about it at first, but when it had you cumming harder, whining more, it wasn’t really a choice anymore. He’d do anything to make you feel like that, give you anything you wanted.

You don’t have a chance to respond—not coherently, at least. His thumb drags from your hip, slipping down to your swollen, throbbing clit. He rubs big, messy, wet circles over the sensitive nub, and your vision shakes as you feel it coming.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans when you let out that shaky little noise and that trembling clench you always do when you’re about to cum. “Cum for me. Let me feel it. Cum on your cock, baby.”

Yes. Yes.

“Yes!” you scream, your body seizing up, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cry out, your hands slipping from his hair, nails raking down his bare back as you orgasm. “Baby, uh—fuck!”

He doesn’t slow, his hips pounding into you as his own release builds. “G-gonna fill you up,” he chokes out, his thrusts erratic now. “Fuckkkk, baby, gonna cum so fucking deep inside you.”

“Yes,” you whimper the only word you seem to know. “Wannit so bad, Kookie.” You slur, voice breaking as he keeps fucking into you like a fleshlight. “Wanna feel your cum fill up my fucking pussy, baby, g-g-godddd.”

He shudders above you, his hips snapping hard with one long, deep thrust as he chokes out a cuumming, baby before spilling into you, his deep moan vibrating through your bedroom.

His thumb doesn’t stop.

He’s panting hard, hips fucking in and out of your leaking hole while you milk every last drop of sticky cum from his softening cock. “Come on, angel, gimmie one more, please. Please, angel.”

He’s pleading. You’re dying. Your body is convulsing, clenching and squeezing around his cock, somehow pulling even more of his load when he thought he had no more left to fucking give.

“One more, baby. That’s it. That’s it. There we go.”

Your eyes roll back, the dirtiest moan tearing from your throat as you squeal and shake around his cock. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first. He works you through it, rocks you through it, pushing his hips flush against yours so the head of his cock bulges and pulses against your g-spot, spelling his name on your clit with his thumb while you give him one fucking more.

Your chest heaves as your body trembles beneath him, your hands clutching weakly around his sides. Jungkook’s hips still, his cock twitching inside you as he breathes heavily, his forehead pressing softly against yours. He lifts his thumb from your clit, panting, and brings it to his lips without thinking, sucking your slick from his finger.

When he pulls it free, his eyes blink open, dazed and drunk. “I-I can’t believe we did that,” he chokes out. “We were so loud.”

You giggle softly, batting his hand away from his mouth to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down until his weight sinks against you. “Babyyy,” he groans in protest, squirming slightly. “I don’t wanna squish you.”

You grumble, your legs locking around his waist again, keeping him firmly in place. His softening cock shifts slightly inside you, and you hum contentedly. “You’re fine, my love. Perfect.”

He lets out a grumpy little whine before conceeding and resting his head in the crook of your neck. His chest rises and falls heavily against yours, his body still trembling faintly.

“It really is okay, though, baby,” you say, stroking his damp hair with one hand while your other rubs little circles over his back. “My mom and Sang-cheol are very sex positive.”

Jungkook’s body stiffens in your hold. “Angel, noo.”

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, shrugging innocently. “What? They are.”

His face burns even redder as he rubs his nose into your neck. “It’s gonna be so awkward tomorrow,” he mumbles.

You snicker, drumming his bare bum with your feet. “It’s fine, baby. I didn’t pack any golf attire by the way, so we’ll needa go to the mall in the morning. You can help me pick out a slutty little sport skirt.”

His head lifts just slightly and you swear his ears perk up like a bunny. “Okay,” he says softly, cheeks still pink. “I’d like that.”

You giggle, the sound muffled as you press a kiss to his warm cheek. “God, you’re so cute, baby.”

His lips quirk into a shy grin, his doe eyes blinking down at you. “I love you,” he whispers. “This has been the best Christmas of my life.”

Your chest tightens, and your brows furrow as you whine softly at his sweetness. “I love you too, my sweetheart,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands to press another kiss to his pout. “So much.”

His smile is soft, glowing, as he nestles back into your neck. His bare chest is warm against you, the two of you sinking into a quiet, content stillness. Your fingers brush through the damp hair at the base of his neck, his breathing evening out as your heartbeats sync.

“Angel?” His voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, my love?” you hum sleepily.

“I-I’m hard again.”

merry 23rd my darlings !! i hope you’re all having the best holidays so far, and thank u so much for all the overwhelming love and support on this silly willy journey of ours 💋 i’m sure you’ve already checked out december, but if you haven’t yet, PLEASEEE do — i swear to fuck u won’t regret it. the biggest thank u again from lovie and me, we appreciate you all endlessly 🩷🩷 see you on the 25th!! mwwwah -lyssa <3

[slut4jeon]

Company (jjk)

Pairing: brothers bsf!jk x fm!reader

Sypnosis: Your longtime crush who happens to be your older brothers best friends walks into you humping your pillow to the thought of him

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex, dry/pillow humping, nudity, reader has an IUD, etc…

Note: hey yawl it’s been a while… if anything sounds off jus so yk it’s not proofread :)

You’ve always carried a long crush for your older brothers bestfriend Jeon Jungkook.

Your ages being separate by 2 years, you’ve always remembered the chicks your older brother Taehyung would sneak into his room after a night out meanwhile your parents slept peacefully in their room.

As of now, this carried onto his current college days. Attending frat parties along with his best friend since childhood, Jungkook.

Your heart ached to be seen as nothing but Taehyungs younger sister to jungkook and others known to him. Especially when after those late night outs you’d come to find a chick wrapped around Jungkook’s meaty arms. You wanted jungkook to see you as a woman who harbored deep feeling for him.

And so, your decided to attend the same college as your brother. It not being that far off your home moving onto campus was not required. Unlike jungkook whose family had moved farther off from town your parents gladly took him in. Knowing him since he was a little boy they allowed him to crash in taehyungs spacious room.

This only made your crush on him worse, you were too shy to even start a conversation with him. Despite your shyness he always acknowledged your presence, never making you feel left out or ignored. Your interactions with him were limited, and every convo was initiated by him with little teases and silly remarks. He’s such a kind guy, no wonder your lingering crush only heightened with him staying in your home.

Classes were over for you and generally Taehyung was always the one to drive you home considering he had a car. A sudden message from him vibrates your phone you carry in your palm.

3:52 pm taetae: not on campus so I asked jk to give you a ride home today

great.

pulling into the campus parking in his car was jungkook, “hey, tae asked me to drive you back home for today he’s out so he’ll be back tomorrow” he said with his silver pierced charming grin

“hi, thanks for driving me back home” you said with your typical shy demeanor as you made way into the passenger seat of his car

“don’t worry about it, sweets”

oh.

That was the nickname he’d given you many many years ago cause of the constant snacking of sweets and candys. He payed notice to that then coining you the nickname “sweets”

You turned your head faced to the direction of the window to hide the rosy cheeks he gave you from pet name

Too shy to keep the conversation going jungkook spoke, bringing up school and asking about your classes. All came to an end once he pulled into the driveway of your home.

“Your brother won’t be back today, he’s spending the night with jennie today”, jungkook said while opening the refrigerator to get a class of water.

dammit.

You thought to yourself. You’re parents are out at work and don’t arrive til 9pm. So that means it’s just you and Jungkook for the meanwhile. What a mess, you figured you were gonna stay locked in your room for the remaining time until your parents got home.

“Well, I’m just gonna work on my assignments due tomarrow…”

“Alright, I’m off to the gym. In case anything happens feel free to call me, okay?”, the tattooed man said.

The muscular man did go to the gym everyday though. Usually around 4:30pm for about at least 2 hours.

“Okay” last thing said between you two before grabbing his gym bag and making his way out the door.

“Hey Jungkook?”

“Yea?”

“Thanks for looking out for me”, this time you held onto the eye contact made between both irises. Making sure to illuminate your gratitude to him.

He offered you a grin from his silver pierced lips, “no problem, sweets”

You could not get Jungkook out of your head. It was impossible to focus on your assignments without thinking about the tall raven hair tattooed man with the bunny smile. He lingered your mind, causing stress.

Closing your MacBook and tossing it aside you decided to relieve this aching stress that invaded your mind but also the lingering ache between your legs.

You rid yourself of your clothing only remaining in your cropped tank and underwear.

Positioning your pillow between your legs in which your body hovered over you made onto your pillow searing yourself upon it.

Arching your back and you rocked your hips back and forth onto the wrinkled textured fabric of the pillow. The lacy panties you were currently wearing added to the ecstasy. Following the flow of movement adding friction and pressure to your needy clit.

“mhhpp, fuck” gasping out while you retracted your head back then forward.

The layered front strands of your mid length hair covered your face due the continuous movement of your head. Tucking them back behind your ear once again.

“j-jungkook! s’good, feels so good…” you desperate whined as you chased your high.

Gripping onto the pillow leaving your knuckles white due to the pressure of squeezing while leaning forward.

Your pillowy nipples lacked attention, your fingers latched onto the buds from the outside of your tank. You weren’t wearing a bra so the thin shirt was the only separation between your calloused fingers and hardened buds.

Getting rid of your shirt and panties you were bare entirely. Your only audience being the plushies corner of your bed watching the show you gave them.

Is what you thought, too oblivious and deep into your own world to have heard the sound of the car pulling up into the drive way, to have heard the sound of the front door opening and footsteps. To have noticed the presence of the same man whose name you constantly let slip past your moaning lips watching you reach your high on your pillow at the thought of him.

He watched your ass jiggle at the rapid movement of your hips, along with the movement of your breasts The way your face contorted into an expression of pleasure with your teeth biting onto the plump of your lips. The sight in front of him had his length twitching in the gray sweats he changed into before leaving the gym.

“g’na cum, please let me cum…fuck jungkook need it so bad!” you desperately expressed.

At the final rock of your hips you released, a shivering orgasm causing you to rip a pitched whine.

The movement of your hips lessened as you rode out your orgasm. Tired and worn out after that workout your head began to wander off.

Until.

“Quite the performance you showed off there” your heart dropped

There he was. The same man that you’d been rubbing your pussy against your pillow at the thought of watched you get off.

“Jungkook!” you wanted the ground to swallow you whole at this very moment.

Quickly grabbing into your discarded clothing at an attempt to cover your bare body. Unaware of what to say in explanation to the presence in front of you.

“I-I…”

No words could come out or your mouth as you watched Jungkook walk towards you with a darkened expression.

Removing the piece of clothing from your grip at attempt of concealing yourself. His eyes remained at your bare figure. Tempted at the sight of your hardened nipples, goosebumps covered your skin.

“Fucking hell, look at you. Getting off to the thought of me? You’re so damn cute…”

The eye contact made you aware of the glint in his eyes, a message he was trying to convey.

“Jungkook?” you quietly questioned

“You gonna let me do what I want with you, hm? Is that what you want?”

Your eyes remaining in contact with his glistening ones, you nod your head in response.

That was all it took from jungkook to commect your lips with his. Hungrily capturing your mouth, sloppily stuffing his tongue down your throat causing him to groan and you to whimper at his roughness.

“Open your legs, baby. Show me how wet your pussy is”, you obeyed and showed him your glistening folds lathered in your cum.

Taking his tattooed hand and gathering the substance on his fingers he brought them to his mouth. The taste of your discharge coated his tongue as he cleaned it from his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re as sweet as your nickname. You sure live up to it”, he said as he continue to lick clean his slick coated fingers.

Your fingers inched towards the hem of his sweats, encircling the strands of the waistline.

“What is it you want, sweets?

“You.”

“Take me out, baby” fuck, that practically confirmed to you he was hiding a big package under there.

Lowering his sweats his hardened cock sprung free from the confided layer of fabric.

Taking his length in your palm toward your warm mouth to lubricate it with your saliva. Jerking him off in a up and down motion earning you grunts and groans from him.

“Just like that, fuck…keep doing that n I’ll cum” he gritted out.

Pushing you onto the soft surface of the bed you watched as he removed his clothing. You admired his muscular physique, the gym really did pay off.

“Are you really sure about this?”

“Yes, I’m sure” confirming.

“Condom?”

“It’s okay I’m on an IUD, I’ll take an after pill tomorrow”, reassuring him

He hovered over your body, hiding in the crevice of your neck to leave a few pecks while aligning his length to your heat.

Your chest heaved deeply as you exhaled, the slight burn of his size rubbing toward your tight walls ignited pleasure.

“mhpm! j-jungkook..” wrapped arms on his back as he thrusted in you, increasing the pace as you let out more moans and whimpers.

“I know, baby…ya’ feel so good, so warm n’ tight”, he cooed.

At sudden movement his arms then wrapped around your thighs hoisting you up while the relentless abuse to your cunt never stopped.

“Ahh! f-fuck! Jungkook!”, Now in the standing missionary position, he was in deeper than you’ve ever experienced. The motion of his hips thrusting at an unforgivable pace, all that was heard was the sound of his balls smacking against your sopping pussy filling the entire room.

“shit, m’ gonna cum”

“m-me too..” your climax right on the edge.

With that both of you reached your highs, his thrusts began slowing down to ride out the climax. Both the mixture of your cum riding from his abdomen down his leg.

Laying you down on the soft surface of your bed with his cock still soft in you. Enjoying each other’s company as you laid in his embrace.

“Jungkook, are you gonna tell?” you innocently say with genuine concern written on your face.

“Now why would I do that? I’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a long while now. Why? Do you not want this?”

“No, I do! But when you say you’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a while now, what outcome do you expect to come from this? Taehyung will find out sooner or later and it’ll get messy.” your questioned further anticipated his response.

He let out a sigh, “you see sweets, I’ve envisioned this moment to occur, I’ve gotten off at the thought of you just like you showed off earlier. I want you just as bad….” he admits.

“I don’t see you as just my best friends younger sister, I see you as much more”

“Jungkook?” fuck, he’s worried. What if the feelings are mutual as what he initially believed they were? What if we only meant it to be a quick fuck?

“Hm?” Oh well.

“I see you as much more too”, you don’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came out but this weight you’ve been carrying has been lifted after your confession, you feel more at ease.

Both your gazes locked in with one another. Both leaning into each other as your mouths then mounded into one.

The kiss was deep and passionate, although you both have confessed your mutual feelings for each other, there’s something different about it. Feeling more as acceptance and comfort.

“The things you do to me y/n, you don’t get it”.

“You’re mine, all mine”

Pt 2?

[letsbangts]

answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."

Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.

The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.

"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"

"It's Emily!"

"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.

He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.  

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.

"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.

They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.

You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"  

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.

"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."

He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."

"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."

You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."

Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”  

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”  

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well. 

"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.

“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

"What?"

He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.

"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."

"Deal," you giggle.

"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.  

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah." 

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head. 

Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you." 

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.  

Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

"Come here."

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”

You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."

"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."

"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.

You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?

Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.

He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.  

Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life. 

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.

But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.

Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.

"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"

To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."

You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.

"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."

"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."

"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"

He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."

"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."

"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."

"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.

"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."

"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"

"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one."

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.  

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."

Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.

"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?  

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.  

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn't have to wait for long.

He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

[someonegoood]

I’m not a kid! pt. 1 ✫ jeon jungkook

in which you’ve always had a hopeless crush on your brother’s best friend, Jungkook, who’s made it painfully clear he doesn’t feel the same—until a family vacation forces buried emotions to the surface.

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! idolverse, age gap, arguments, jungkook is an ass with reader, making out…

NOTE: i’ll upload part 2 later… someday!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

part 1, part 2.

my masterlist!

The salty breeze of Busan’s coastline always carried the scent of the ocean and the faint cries of seagulls circling above. The city was alive with contrasts: the bustling fish markets that lined the shore and the quiet charm of the winding streets that climbed up the hills.

For Jungkook, Busan had always been home. The neighbourhood where he grew up wasn’t particularly special, but it was familiar—a place where kids spent endless summers playing soccer at the nearby park. That’s where he first met Minho.

Minho, your older brother, was the kind of boy everyone gravitated towards. He was a social butterfly while Jungkook was a shy eight-year-old, reluctant to join in but unable to resist Minho’s easygoing charisma.

“You’re on my team, Jeon,” Minho had declared one afternoon, tossing a worn-out soccer ball to Jungkook without waiting for a response.

From that day on, the two were inseparable. They shared everything: snacks bought from corner stores, secrets whispered during sleepovers, and dreams about what they wanted to be when they grew up.

That’s how you came into the picture.

You were Minho’s little sister, always tagging along, much to Jungkook’s annoyance. You were the sunshine to Minho’s confident energy, with an eternal optimism that made everyone crack a smile. But to him, you were just Minho’s sister—someone to tolerate because you came with the package.

Instead, over the years, your bubbly nature and obvious admiration for Jungkook became harder for him to ignore. You lingered on the sidelines of their soccer matches, offering water bottles and clapping too enthusiastically when he scored a goal. You laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t funny and gave him small, thoughtful gifts on his birthday—things like handmade keychains or little notes tucked into envelopes.

And while Minho teased you endlessly about your obvious crush, Jungkook’s reaction was always more severe. He hated it—not because he didn’t like you, but because he didn’t know how to like you. That made everything infinitely more complicated.

So, he did what he thought was best: he pushed you away.

NINE YEARS AGO…

The evening had the magic that only Busan nights could conjure: warm, salty air and the soft glow of lanterns strung along the bustling street-side restaurant.

Your family and the Jeons had planned this dinner weeks ago, a casual gathering to catch up and enjoy good food before Jungkook left for another training session in Seoul.

“I’m moving to Seoul,” he announced some years ago at your family’s barbecue, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just shattered your world.

Your heart sank.

“For what?” your brother asked, genuinely curious.

Jungkook’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. “To be a trainee. BigHit is giving me a shot.”

You froze, the words hitting you harder than you expected. He hadn’t told you. He hadn’t even hinted at it. That night, you cried alone in your room. You felt betrayed: that was your only dream since childhood. Eventually he left Busan to become a trainee, which had made you wonder if you’ll ever have an opportunity in the industry.

The long, wooden table was nestled under a canopy of fairy lights, with plates of grilled fish, spicy tteokbokki, and steaming bowls of jjigae scattered across its surface. You sat beside Jungkook, not by choice but because the seating arrangement had worked out that way. Your mother was chatting animatedly with Mrs. Jeon, and your brother Minho was in a heated debate with Jungkook’s older brother about which soccer team was superior.

You couldn’t focus. Not with Jungkook so close, his presence filling the air between you. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, his dark hair slightly messy from the seaside breeze. He was scrolling through his phone, barely acknowledging you, but you could feel the heat radiating from his shoulder whenever it brushed yours.

As the clock neared midnight, the temperature dropped. You rubbed your arms, the thin pink cardigan you’d worn doing little to ward off the chill. You tried to focus on the conversation, but your shivering gave you away.

“Are you cold?” your mom asked from across the table, concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you lied quickly, forcing a smile.

But you weren’t fine, and Jungkook noticed your trembling.

Later, when the two families were chatting, you hesitated for a moment and then glanced at him. “Can I… borrow your hoodie?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“Your hoodie,” you repeated, trying to sound casual. “I’m freezing here.”

He stared at you for a second longer than necessary, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, without a word, he pulled the hoodie over his head, his black t-shirt riding up slightly to reveal a toned stomach. You quickly looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Here,” he muttered, holding it out to you.

You slipped it on, the fabric warm and smelling faintly of his cologne—a mix of citrus and vanilla. It was far too big on you, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“Thanks,” you said softly, stealing a glance at him.

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It’s just a hoodie.”

But as the night went on, you noticed little things. How he subtly shifted closer when the breeze picked up. How his knee brushed against yours under the table, and he didn’t pull away. How, when he thought no one was looking, his gaze lingered on you a second too long.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just a hoodie after all.

That dinner had stirred something in you. Maybe it was the way Jungkook had handed you his hoodie without hesitation or the bubble gum scent on it. Whatever it was, the feelings swirling inside you.

SEVEN YEARS AGO…

It all started at one of Minho’s infamous parties. The room was crowded, music pumping, and you tried your best to enjoy yourself but the thought of being there just because you were Minho's sister made you cringe. That was until you saw Jungkook laughing in the corner with his friends. He had got back from Seoul a few days ago because his company gave him some free days.

Your chest tightened as you saw him. It was impossible to ignore how Jungkook’s carefree laughter carried across the room, pulling you into a spiral of softness. You retreated to the kitchen, determined to drown your emotions in a cup of punch. That’s where Juwon found you, one of your brother's friends.

"Stop pouting," he teased, ruffling your hair. "What’s wrong, kid?"

You shrink at the thought of being called a "kid". "I’m not a kid," you snapped, pulling away. "And nothing’s wrong."

Juwon didn’t believe you, but before he could pry further, Jungkook walked in. His sharp jawline, dark eyes, and smirk made your heart skip a beat.

"Juwon-ah," Jungkook greeted casually before his gaze flicked to you. "What’s with the long face? Did someone steal your crayons?"

Your jaw tightened, and Juwon chuckled. "She’s sulking about something. Probably got dumped." You glared at him, but Jungkook’s smirk only widened.

"Dumped?" Jungkook tilted his head mockingly. "You’d have to date someone for that to happen, kid."

That was the last straw.

"Stop, I’m not a kid!" you snapped, slamming your cup onto the counter. "I’m not some little girl you can just mock whenever you feel like it, Jungkook!"

The room went silent, tension crackling between you. Jungkook’s smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. Juwon shifted uncomfortably, sensing he’d made a mistake by staying.

"Alright..." Juwon muttered. "I’m leaving you two to... whatever this is." When he left, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

"You’re really something, aren’t you?" he said, his voice low. "Always so desperate to prove yourself. What are you trying to prove this time? That you’re all grown up?"

You felt the sting of his words but refused to back down.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually apologize. Instead, he muttered, "You’re too young to understand."

"Stop using that excuse!" you shot back. "I’m not a kid anymore, and you don’t get to decide how I feel!" The argument hung in the air like a storm ready to break. Jungkook opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, his expression darkened immediately. He went closer to you, his height suddenly making the space between you feel even smaller.

“Are you kidding right now?” he asked, his tone cold. Your noses were almost touching.

Your heart sank and you closed your eyes. “I… I just want to be serious. For once.”

“Serious?” His voice rose, sharp and cutting. “Kid, you'll never be.”

The words hit you like a slap. You blinked rapidly, trying to process the sudden shift in his demeanour.

“I don’t need this,” he continued, his frustration spilling out. “I don’t need you trying to play house or whatever weird crush you’ve got going on. Stop wasting your time on me. You’re just a little kid.”

Your chest tightened the sting of his words bringing tears to your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. The cup you were holding was long forgotten.

"You’re... impossible, stubborn, and way too good for someone like me." Your breath hitched as his hand brushed against yours.

"Kook..."

He pulled back suddenly, as if afraid of what might happen next. "We can’t," he muttered, more to himself than to you. But before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist.

"You’re an idiot," you said, tears pricking your eyes. "But if you walk away now, you’re proving me right."

Jungkook froze, his expression conflicted. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours. He began to kiss you, gently biting on your lower lip trying to make you open your mouth. You had never, in your whole life, thought Jungkook would be kissing you.

The kiss was messy, desperate, and everything you’d imagined it would be. One hand on your waist gripping you tightly, rubbing circles with his thumb as his other hand is gently holding the side of your face.

Jungkook began to press kisses along the length of your neck, stopping just above your jawline.

“That feels nice,” you blushed.

He chuckled as he leant in towards you, brushing his hand against your cheek. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his voice shaky.

“We can’t… You know we can’t.”

Once again, his eyes travelled to your lips but before he could kiss you he turned quickly, rushing back into the living room before you broke down completely.

Or so he thought. That was the first time Jeon Jungkook kissed you.

That night, sitting alone in your room with tear-streaked cheeks and a heart that felt both shattered and strangely free, you made a decision: it was time to focus on yourself.

Becoming an idol had always been your dream. You remembered the exact moment you decided this was what you wanted—a moment of clarity during a school talent show when the cheers of the crowd and the spotlight on you felt like home.

But dreaming of something and pursuing it were two entirely different things.

When you told your family you wanted to audition, they smiled indulgently, thinking it was a phase. Your brother, ever protective, had scoffed, telling you to "be realistic." Jungkook, who was still part of your life, had smirked and asked, "Are you trying to be me? Do you even know how hard life my is?"

And he was right.

Auditioning for agencies was gruelling. There were days when you faced rejection after rejection, each one feeling like a crack in the foundation of your confidence. You’d wake up at 5 a.m. for practice sessions, juggling school, part-time jobs, and long hours of singing and dancing in a cramped studio. Every week, you had to convince yourself to keep going when everything in you screamed to quit.

The hardest part, though, wasn’t the physical exhaustion—it was the emotional toll.

Friendships began to slip away, you missed birthdays, family dinners, and countless moments that made your hometown feel like home. Moving to Seoul for training was bittersweet. You were chasing your dream, but it felt like leaving behind pieces of yourself.

Training wasn’t glamorous, either. There were days when your trainers yelled at you for missing a note or a beat, and you’d spend nights in the dorm crying into your pillow, wondering if you’d ever be good enough. Some trainees around you gave up, packing their bags and leaving without a word. But you stayed because deep down, you knew this was what you were meant to do.

And then, one day, after years of relentless hard work, you got a call from BigHit. You had been selected to debut. You and the four other girls you’d grown close to over endless practice hours were going to be idols.

But with gaining fame came him.

Jungkook had debuted first, of course, with BTS. And every time you crossed paths at the company, at award shows or music programs, he made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about it.

It was a surreal moment as you and your group—Mimi, Sky, Nari, and Yunjin—stepped into the large studio for the BigHit family photoshoot. The air buzzed with energy as staff members rushed to set up lighting and cameras. You were dressed in coordinating white outfits, your makeup and hair perfected to the last detail, but none of it stopped the nervous flutter in your stomach.

The nerves only intensified when you saw BTS already gathered near the set, their laughter and chatter filling the room. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen them; in fact, you’d met the members long before they became global sensations, back when Jungkook was still a trainee.

Taehyung and Jin had always been the most welcoming, making an effort to befriend you during those early, uncertain days of training. You had countless memories of Taehyung showing you silly tricks to lighten your mood and Jin bringing snacks to share after practice sessions. Even now, they greeted you with warm smiles, as if no time had passed at all.

Taehyung waved enthusiastically as you approached. "Look at you! All grown up now."

You laughed, cheeks flushing. "And you haven’t changed a bit, Tae."

But the moment your eyes landed on Jungkook, your breath hitched. He stood near the backdrop, hands tucked in his pockets, looking impossibly good in his fitted suit. His gaze met yours briefly, and he gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.

You had seen him a few weeks ago at a family lunch back in Busan, but every encounter still carried a weight you couldn’t quite shake.

"Alright, everyone!" The photographer clapped his hands, gathering everyone’s attention. "We’re starting with the full group shots. BTS and our newest girl group, together."

Your heart sank. You weren’t sure you could survive being this close to Jungkook, especially under the teasing gaze of your members and his.

As the groups began to arrange themselves, chaos ensued. Jin insisted on being in the middle, Taehyung joked about needing his best angle, and your leader, Mimi, declared she wouldn’t stand anywhere near Namjoon because he was too tall. Amid the commotion, you somehow ended up right next to Jungkook.

You tried not to panic as you felt his body press against your back in the cramped arrangement, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Y/N," Sky whispered, barely containing her laughter. "You’re blushing."

"Shut up," you hissed back, but your cheeks betrayed you, turning even redder.

"Look at them," Jimin teased loudly, his voice drawing everyone’s attention. "Our maknaes! Should we make room for you two?"

"Jimin," you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Sky and Nari joined in, giggling as they exchanged knowing looks with BTS’s members. Even Yoongi couldn’t resist chiming in. "Let’s make a maknae photo. Everyone else, move aside!"

The teasing only worsened as the photographer tried to get everyone to focus. Jungkook remained quiet through it all, his expression unreadable, but you were hyper-aware of his proximity.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

"Enough," Jungkook said, his voice firm but not harsh. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to him.

He looked down at you, his expression softening. "Let’s just take the photo, okay?"

You nodded, too flustered to say anything. The teasing subsided after that, and the rest of the shoot went smoothly, though you couldn’t stop your heart from racing every time Jungkook shifted beside you.

As the session wrapped up, Taehyung leaned over and whispered in your ear, "He still cares, you know."

You didn’t respond, but the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence and the memory of his quiet defence stayed with you long after the photoshoot ended.

The photoshoot felt like a blur in your memory, but one moment lingered vividly—Jungkook standing beside you, his quiet presence both overwhelming and grounding. When he had stepped in to silence the teasing, you’d felt a warmth you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just his defence but the softness in his eyes, the unspoken understanding that had stayed with you.

Since then, things between you have been… complicated. Jungkook was still distant most of the time, his words often cold, but there were cracks in his armour. Small, fleeting moments where his gaze softened or his words carried a hint of something deeper.

Now, backstage at the award show, the weight of his presence pressed on you like a phantom. You hadn’t exchanged more than a glance, but his impact lingered, just like it always did.

“Okay, so who’s the most nervous?” Nari teased, trying to break the tension as your group sat in a quiet corner.

“Not me,” Sky declared, though her knuckles were white around her water bottle.

“What about our maknae?” Mimi leaned closer to you. “You’ve been off all morning. Thinking about Jungkook again?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as the others giggled. “I’m not,” you lied, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

“You totally are,” Yunjin added, poking your side. “He’s got you all flustered, and he hasn’t even spoken to you yet.”

Before you could respond, Taehyung and Jin appeared, their easy smiles immediately lightening the mood.

“Ladies, looking stunning as always,” Taehyung greeted, his tone playful as ever.

Jin offered his signature kind smile. “Nervous? Don’t be. You’ll do great.”

Their presence was a welcome distraction, and you couldn’t help but laugh when Taehyung dramatically declared, “We’re here to protect you from Jungkook’s glaring.”

But the laughter was short-lived. Across the room, Jungkook leaned against the wall, his sharp gaze fixed on you. When Jin ruffled your hair, earning a bright laugh from you, Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the performance ahead. But just as you steadied yourself, he approached the group.

“Hey,” Jungkook called softly.

Everyone turned, surprised to see him standing next to you, his expression unreadable but his tone lacking its usual sharpness. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside your group's dressing room.

“Don’t let me ruin this for you,” he said, his voice so low you could bearly hear him. “You’re… good at this. Just do your thing.”

It wasn’t an apology for everything he had done, but it was something.

Your eyes searched his, looking for any trace of malice, but all you found was a flicker of uncertainty. For the first time in what felt like forever, his walls seemed to lower, if only slightly.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

As he walked out, Yunjin sidled up beside you, a knowing grin on her face. “What did Jungkook say?”

“Nothing important,” you lied, though your heart told a different story.

“Sure,” she teased.

The words stayed with you as you stepped onto the stage, ready to perform. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the same boy you’d once known, but beneath the cold exterior, there was still something there. Something worth holding onto.

The night of your group’s single release party was supposed to be a celebration. The venue buzzed with excitement, filled with industry friends, labelmates, and staff. Your group were the stars of the evening, basking in the glow of your latest success. You’d worked tirelessly for months, and now, you deserved to let loose.

You flitted around the party, sharing laughs, clinking glasses, and posing for photos with everyone who came to congratulate you. But a familiar tension brewed in your chest, one you tried to ignore as much as you could.

It didn’t help when Jungkook and his members arrived.

You didn't expect him to come, even though he’d been the first on your personal list. Yet there he was, standing near the bar in a sleek dark outfit, grey jeans and a black oversized t-shirt that fitted him nicely. His gaze found yours almost instantly, but he didn’t approach. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, sipping his drink and chatting casually with Hoseok.

“Babes,” Sky called, tugging you out of your thoughts. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

But the truth was, Jungkook’s presence threw you off. The history between you—complicated and unresolved—lingered like an unspoken storm. His quiet indifference always hurt more than it should have.

As the night wore on, you avoided him, focusing instead on celebrating with your group. You danced, laughed, and tried to push him out of your mind. But when you stepped outside for a moment of air, the cool breeze hit you, and so did the realization that he’d followed you.

“Couldn’t even last the whole party?” Jungkook’s voice carried a teasing edge, but there was a hesitation in his tone.

You scoffed, not turning to face him. “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

“To congratulate you,” he said, stepping closer. “Big night for you and the girls.”

You turned to find him standing a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets. “Funny,” you muttered. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“I care,” Jungkook stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “You’ve been avoiding me since the backstage moment.”

You laughed bitterly. “And you’ve been ignoring me for years. Why do you care now?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was palpable, years of unresolved feelings bubbling to the surface.

“I don’t ignore you, kid.” He said finally, his voice quieter.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Every time I try to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I think we’re okay, you push me away again.”

His gaze dropped to the ground, and for a moment, he looked almost guilty. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple,” you pressed, the frustration you’d bottled up for so long finally spilling out. “If you don’t want me in your life, just say so. Stop playing this game, Jungkook. I’m tired.”

His head snapped up, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Kid... I never wanted you out of my life.”

“Stop calling me 'kid'” you demanded, your voice breaking. “Why do you act like I don’t matter?”

“You matter,” he said, stepping closer. “You matter so much it scares the hell out of me.”

The admission hung in the air, heavy and raw. Your heart pounded as he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. You pulled away, tears brimming in your eyes.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours. “But I don’t know how to let you go.”

You stepped back, creating space between you. “You need to figure it out, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep doing this.”

The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, but neither of you said another word. You turned and walked back into the party, leaving him alone in the cold night.

"Let me take you home," he said. His tone was strong, not what you were used to. Still, the ride to your flat was silent, you sitting in the front with Jungkook while faint music played on the radio.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white. “Did you really think you mean nothing to me?” You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.

Jungkook rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.

Although he would never admit it.

"I got them!" You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Jungkook in the eye for the first time since the party.

"Thank you," he didn't want to hear it. After all, you were just his best friend’s sister.

"It's no big deal."

After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back. He whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Goodnight."

It’s been two months since the party. When your mom first suggested a getaway, you thought it was the perfect idea to forget Jungkook’s situation. “You’ve been working too hard,” she had said over the phone, her voice tinged with concern. “A little break will do you good. Sunshine, good food, some family time—it’s exactly what you need.”

You’d been reluctant at first. The idea of slowing down felt foreign when your life had been moving at a breakneck pace for so long. But your mom’s persistence—and your own exhaustion—eventually won you over.

“We’ve already rented a villa by the beach,” she added, excitement in her tone. “Oh, and the Jeons will be joining us. It’ll be like the old days!”

The Jeons. You hadn’t heard that name in a while, but the memory of warm summer evenings spent with Jungkook’s family hit you like a wave. Your stomach sank as you considered the possibility of seeing him again.

“Do you mean the whole Jeon family?” you had asked hesitantly, trying to gauge just how much of a challenge this ‘relaxing’ trip would be.

“Of course!” your mom said brightly. “It’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together.”

You hadn’t been able to come up with a convincing excuse to avoid the trip, so you packed your bags, hoping the villa would be big enough to keep a comfortable distance between you and Jungkook.

But the moment you stepped onto the patio of the villa, you knew that hope was futile. He was there, leaning against the railing, staring out at the ocean like he belonged there. And when he turned and saw you, the atmosphere immediately shifted.

His dark eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. You felt his gaze move over you briefly before he turned away, as if dismissing you altogether.

Your brother’s voice broke the tension. “Surprise! Kook managed to clean his schedule.”

You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Great,” you said, your voice flat.

“Hey kid,” he smirked.

“I’m not a kid!” You wanted to scream for help.

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[7brownsuga7]

Jungkook groom x reader bride

Summary: Groom Jungkook fucks you (the bride) before your wedding, even though you persist that it’s bad luck, his desires get the best of him. And you, well you can’t help but to fold.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, yadiyada basically the basics Lfmao.

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for so long? Like wtf. Anyways what way to start the year with a Jungkook fic? Back in my Jungkook era even though I never left. Thank you for reading and enjoy <3 mimi

It was a known fact that the groom shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding. Traditional, superstition, or whatever you called it. You had reminded Jungkook of it many times in the weeks leading up to your big day.

But the thought of not being able to see you and touch you didn’t sit right with Jungkook.

You had teased him; telling him he could survive a few hours. A light kiss against his lips as he pouted like a child.

But now, as you stood in your bridal suite, slipping on the final touches to your wedding look, a soft knock interrupted your thoughts. You glanced at the door in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. No one was supposed to be here.

Before you could even ask who it was, the door creaked open revealing Jungkook in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his hair falling slightly into his eyes.

“Jungkook”! You hissed at him, hurrying towards the door in an attempt to stop him coming in any further. “You’re not supposed to be here!” You sulk as he beat you to it, fully stepping foot into the room.

His eyes roam over you, taking you in. So dark and intense, his lips curving into a slow, sinful smirk. “I don’t care”.

Your heart jumps at his tone, pussy clenching at the low and roughness that’s laced within it.

“Seriously?” You try again, your voice a bit weaker now, “this is bad luck. I already tol-“

He closes the distance between you in two strides. Hands gripping your waist as he backs you up against the vanity. A surprised shaky breath escapes your lips.

“The only bad luck,” he murmurs against your neck, his lips slightly brushing against the sensitive skin causing a shiver to run down your spine, “would be me not being able to touch you right now”.

He hungrily kisses your lips before you can protest. You try to push him off of you, trying to remind him of the rules but his hands continued to firmly grip your waist pulling you against him.

You had no choice but to crumble.

“Jungkook” you breathe, your hands tangling in his hair as his mouth moves back to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses that make your knees buckle.

“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, his voice thick with desire, “how hard it’s been not to touch you. To know you’re so close and not be able to have you.”

You moan out as he lifts you into the vanity, his lips instantly finding yours again. His fingers work quickly, tugging at the delicate buttons of your dress, his movements almost frantic.

“Be careful,” you gasp in between kisses, “this dress cost a fortune”.

He slightly chuckles as his eyes cast over you for a moment. “I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He sends kisses to your jaw, before he continues down to your collarbone, trailing down to the swell of your breasts that are barely covered by your lacy bra. “But right now, I need you.”

His hands separate your thighs, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you. “You’re perfect” he murmurs, eyes softening for a moment before his lips find yours again.

It didn’t take long for him to have you bare before him. Nipples exposed to the cool air as he fondles with them. His tuxedo jacket and shirt discarded aimlessly on the floor, allowing you to caress his bare shoulders as he continues to pleasure you. The urgency between you was electric, every touch and kiss igniting a fire that threatened to consume the both of you.

When he had had enough of his cock twitching at the thought of being inside you, the aching throb of what’s to come, he eagerly inserted his cock into the warmth of your pussy. A deep moan escaped his lips, his hands pulling you closer to him as buries himself deeper.

“Fuck” he groans, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move his hips. His thrusts low and deep, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Jungkook” you whimper, nails digging into his bare back as his pace quickens, his control slipping away with every thrust. His hand wraps around your neck, thumb caressing the sensitive skin.

“You feel so good baby” his voice rasps. You clench around him as he hungrily kisses you again.

Hand still wrapped around your neck, you tilt your head up and bite your lip as he continues, “so perfect, so mine.”

He forces you to look at him, and just from the way his dark eyes lowly and dangerously admire you, you can feel your orgasm quickly approach.

“Fuck, y/n”

The sound of your name falling from his lips to the way his body moved with yours - it was overwhelmingly intoxicating. Utterly addicting.

“Ugh k-kook” you moan between breaths, feeling the tension build up. His moves become more erratic as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me” he demands in a whisper, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub on your clit.

It doesn’t take long for your body to tremble under him and your breathing to form into gasps. He wasn’t far behind either. And when he came he released himself into you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the soft hum of your breathing as he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Still think it’s bad luck?” A teasing smile playing on his lips as he looks down at you.

You laugh, your fingers brushing against his hair, removing the fallen strands out of his face before your fingers find his jaw in a gentle caress. “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

He kisses you again, slow and tender this time, as if to remind you that, luck or no luck, you were his - and nothing was going to change that.

[cknife]

bf!jungkook x fem!reader

sexual themes. . smut, swearing, bigdick!jk, praise, pet names, sub/dom dynamic, unprotected sex [wrap it up], pulling out method, cumshot on thighs . . not proof-read so sorry for any errors.

you can't help the small whimpers that fall from your lips as your boyfriend continues to stretch you out, sinking himself deeper and deeper in between your beautifully parted thighs.

"so fuckin' tight," he hissed, eyes fixated on how easily his dripping cock slipped in and out of your drenched hole with no resistance.

your boyfriends inked arm your thigh to gently palm your ass.

"please-" you let out a supressed moan, fingernails instantly digging into his muscly shoulders as he hips slowly rolled fowards before, pulling back out so that his tip stayed inside of you before slamming back into you again.

"feels s'good. ." he whispers, his mouth dotting tender, wet kisses across your exposed neck.

he feels your walls squeezing around him , making his hyper-sensitive dick twitch inside of you, letting out airy moans as his hips began fucking you with even more vigour, amplifying the crude, wet noises being made from your bodies.

"baby, shit-" he smiles, feeling the sudden your spongy walls, constricting around him.

your boyfriend's hips jerk upon letting out a sharp exhale, feeling your cunt constrict around his swollen cock.

"gonna come baby?" he mumbled, a smile playing on his lips as he finally shifts his position to hit your g-spot with slow deliberate strokes, leaving you in a hysterical moaning mess.

"aw shit baby," he grins, feels you literally gush around his cock, causing him to let out a low moan before swiftly pulling out before he could empty himself inside of you.

broken moans escape his lips as he pumps his cock a few times before letting go.

"a-ah," hot ropes of his pent-up cum shoot onto your thighs, coating them in a sticky milky glaze.

he groaned into your neck, drawing in slow inhales to try and steady his ragged breathing.

"best fuckin' pussy."

© cknife, all rights reserved.

[jungkookstatts]

All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 

“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

[liveyun]

no escape | k.th

title. no escape

pairing. kim taehyung x fem reader/oc

genre. squid game au, thriller, pwp, smut

warnings. 😵‍💫. guard!taehyung, player!oc, consensual sexual acts in forms of power play, bandage, orgasm denial, face fucking, spanking, taehyung is. . . arrogant and cocky (pun intended) , his hands, taeconda wbk lmao, edging, finger sucking, some softness

wc. ~3k

a/n : i haven’t watched the drama yet, so please forgive me if there are any factual mistakes (shouldn’t be lol, there’s barely any plot) and this is my second time writing smut/first time writing fellatio so please let it slide if it sounds bad because i was way too impatient to wait and the rumors and or the theories (unlikely) of him appearing in the third season are making me delusional fr 😈

The corridor is suffocatingly quiet, save for the faint whir of crusty old machinery.

Dim overhead lights flicker intermittently, casting dark shadows that stretch and contract like phantom limbs.

You shouldn’t be here. The thought screams louder with every step you take, but it’s drowned out by the pounding of your heart. A part of you relishes because of your rebellion; full of zeal, while the other part is shrinking with fear. Yet, you don’t know which one is responsible for your heart to go hayware.

Either way, you keep on walking.

You grip the edge of the wall tighter, your fingertips brushing against the cold metal, as if the steel could tether you to sanity.

The restricted zone feels different — emptier, darker. As if even the quiet of this lobby is asking you, no, demanding you to leave — but rebellion is so sweet to taste, that perhaps even death cannot make you step back. The air smells off, tinged with the faint metallic tang of something you don’t want to name. The kind of place where secrets go to die.

You force your breath to slow, ears straining for any sign of movement, any hint that someone else might be lurking. But there’s nothing. Just the silence pressing in on you from all sides.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

You flinch.

The voice is low. Dulcet — so smooth it feels like liquid heat is being poured into your ears. You’ve never heard this voice before, and yet it crashes into you with the force of a thunderclap. That calm, quiet power, threaded with something dangerous, coils down your spine and settles deep in your stomach.

The serenity of the voice scares you.

Your entire body goes rigid, blood freezing. Slowly, so painfully slowly, you turn your head. He’s standing at the other end of the corridor, blocking the entrance, and perhaps, the only escape.

Red jumpsuit, square mask. The highest rank among the guards. The ones who don’t ask questions.

For a moment, neither of you move. The fluorescent light above him buzzes faintly, casting an uneven glow over his figure. The mask stares back at you, empty and unyielding, a void you can’t read.

But you feel his eyes. You feel them trailing over you, assessing, dissecting, pinning you where you stand. You feel naked under his gaze despite being fully dressed, and you feel an odd feeling in your insides..

“Lost?” he asks, and the way his voice dips at the end makes your breath hitch. Fuck, oh god.

It’s not just the sound of it—it’s the way it slides under your skin, makes your insides tingle. And he knows. This bastard knows. You can’t see his face, but the slight tilt of his head, the way he lingers just long enough to watch your reaction—it’s deliberate, calculated.

You swallow hard, but your throat feels like sandpaper. “I… I—”

He takes a step forward. You take one back. The air shifts, heavier now, charged with something you can’t quite name.

Your pulse races, each beat like a drum in your ears.

You don’t know if you’re exicted or scared.

“You know what happens to rule breakers, don’t you?” His gloved hand flexes at his side, the movement deliberate, almost lazy. A predator sizing up its prey.

“I—I wasn’t—”

“Save it.” Another step, and he’s close enough for you to catch the faintest trace of his cologne beneath the sterile scent of the suit. It’s woodsy, faintly spiced, and it lingers in the back of your throat like a memory you didn’t know you had. “You don’t belong here. And yet…” He tilts his head slightly, the square on his mask glinting in the dim light.

“Here you are.”

You hate the way your knees threaten to buckle, the way your breathing hitches despite your best efforts to keep it steady. You feel absolutely mortified to feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen like slow fire. There’s no telling what he’ll do. Report you? Drag you back? Or worse — handle the punishment himself.

And God help you, but a part of you is equally as thrilled as terrified to find out.

He’s close now — so close that the full, metallic scent of the corridor is drowned out by something else entirely. Something warm, woodsy, and faintly spiced, like cedarwood and smoke. It lingers in the air between you, curling around your senses, filling your brain up with fog.

The mask tilts, as though he’s watching you with a predator’s curiosity, drinking in every nervous shift of your weight, every shallow breath. You feel overwhelmed and squirmish, hyper aware of him observing your each move.

“What’s the matter?” he murmurs, voice low and unhurried. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your throat feels dry, words caught somewhere between your lungs and lips. You shift back, but the wall at your spine reminds you there’s nowhere left to go.

It’s just you and him.

He leans in just enough to make the hairs on your neck rise, his gloved hand brushing the wall beside your head — close, too close. It’s then you notice his hands: large, impossibly large, even beneath the thin sheen of the gloves. His fingers are long and deft, curling lazily into a fist before releasing, a movement so absentminded it shouldn’t make your stomach flip.

Shouldn’t fill your head with images which practically threatens to take away the little sanity left in you.

“You’re scared,” he muses, more to himself than to you. “But not of what you should be.”

His head tilts again, the mask’s material catching the overhead light. Slowly, his hand rises, not toward you—but toward his own face. His gloved hand rises to the edge of his mask, fingers brushing the seam. He hooks a single finger beneath the edge of his mask.

You barely notice that you’ve stopped breathing.

“You want to see who’s really watching you?”

You can’t stop your eyes from widening. “You want to see who you’re really dealing with?” The words are laced with danger, meant to come about as a taunt. But they dont, they instead spread a fire inside you, like how the veins of a leaf spreads across its surface area.

Slowly, almost languidly, he pulls the mask away, revealing the face beneath.

Oh.

Oh.

Dark, sweat-dampened hair clings to his temples, framing a face that seems carved from shadow and starlight. His eyes are sharp, but, but they hold a soft glimmer — hooded, which gleam with cruel amusement framed underneath thick, strong brows. His lips are slightly parted, as if he knows you’re looking and wants you to keep doing just that.

He is breathtaking. He is gorgeous. And he knows that.

It’s the small things that undo you. The faint sheen of sweat along his sharp jawline. The curve of his smirk, too soft to be mocking but too dangerous to be kind. And that scent —closer now, filling your lungs and making you lightheaded.

“Well?” he asks, voice silkier than before. “Do I live up to the mystery?”

Your mouth moves, but no sound comes out. Your gaze drops despite yourself—past his throat, past the open collar of his jumpsuit, to the slender column of his neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.

Fuck this man.

But it’s his hands that do you in. Bare now, he tugs the gloves free, one finger at a time. His skin is warm-toned, his fingers long and lean, the kind of hands that could either cradle or crush without hesitation. He flexes them casually, like he knows you’re watching.

They are clean. Beautiful. Neatly manicured. . .

“Lost for words?” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are sharp, drinking in every flush of heat that creeps up your neck.

You can’t look at him, but you can’t look away, either.

An image flashes up in your mind. His fingers, the same fingers, rubbing your clit with smooth, slow circles as his other hand restricts the airflow from your throat.

Oh fuck.

You grit your teeth, not trusting yourself enough to conceal any noises that may spill out. However, you fail to supress yourself from squirming, your thighs rubbing themselves together unconsciously as the erotic image flares up your brain.

And he notices that too.

His eyes narrow, and a dry laugh escapes his lips — something similar to a mock, but closer to amusement. You feel your throat dry on the realisation as you try looking away, but the next thing you feel are his hands on your chin.

“You dirty little thing,” his hands are warm — but the tips of his digits cold as they squeeze your cheeks, puckering your lips out, his face inching closer till you can see your own reflection in his pupils.

You feel like closing your eyes, but you can’t.

His breath is warm. Minty. Sweet on your cheeks as he draws each word out like rich honey. “You could be killed here for breaking the rules, but you are thinking of something else. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You feel your clit throb at the nickname.

You shake your head, or atleast you try to. Could there be anything more humiliating than fantasizing about someone as him? Probably. But right now, you feel like not giving him the satisfaction of submission.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, the plush muscle coating his lips in a sheen layer of saliva.

He shakes his head, and a dry, unamused laugh leaves his throat.

“Filthy little liar,” he coaxes. “Do you know what do liars deserve?”

Your eyes widen, but somehow you feel that it’s not going to be the end of you.

Your eyes burn with tears.

And so do your wrists — they are tied behind you with a rag, and your knees actually feel like they’ve been scraped. But oh, sweet heavens, you feel like you could die after this. His cock rams into your mouth — not even half-way through, and hits the back of your throat. Your instincts have your throat constricting, eyes watering, and body squirming.

It’s nearly been 20 minutes, or so you think, since you’ve been kneeling down, getting fucked in your mouth by none other than the arrogant, handsome guard whose cock is so impossibly thick, you feel your jaws hurt. Suit hunched down to thick thighs and cock fished out of black boxers, you feel like this man actually is going to be the death of you.

Your pussy convulses, gushing out another stream of viscous fluid as his hips snap towards your face once more. He moans, a sweet, honeyed sound which makes your insides churn, a smooth beat which has your ego inflating. Your arms feel numb and your wrists hurt at the loss of circulation, but you remember how cruelly he’d tied your arms after your own fingers had reached down to releive the ache of your weeping pussy after the first thrusts of his cock into the wet cavern of your mouth.

He sneers, and grabs your hair — but his touch is surprisingly gentle, unlike his thrusts. Twists your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and forces your head on his length.

“Your mouth feels so good, ahh~”

He likes edging himself — or you. He’s been impossibly close thrice, throbbing and pulsing in your mouth, hissing at your tongue licking a particular angry vein on his cock, but he pulled away each time with a harsh grunt.

His eyes are sharp — glimmering under the dull lights of the lobby. He holds the back of my head and pushes himself down your throat, and you feel yourself gag, your mouth dripping with drool, his cock impossibly closer to your throat, still not down the base. “Y-yeah, you dirty liar, choke.”

It wasn’t definitely your first time with a man — but this man? You had no words. You felt your cheeks warm up, your cunt clench and gush out. You moan, the sound muffled by his cock, and looked up into his dark eyes, wordlessly begging for more. . .

What had gotten into you?

Your senses were overwhelmed ; the taste of his cock, its hardness prying your throat open, the smell of his sweat, the glimpses of his golden skin under his suit and impossibly silky hair sticking to his forehead — and each thrust sending you to a gateway of primal lust.

His hands leave your hair.

And what he does catches you off guard. You were busy eyeing his form, and he takes the advantage of that. His hips buck back to your mouth, freely thrusting as if you were a toy — nudging your throat open as he moaned in victory, his hands on his hips, teeth tugging his lower lips as he presses his cock closer.

“Look at you,” he lets out a small laugh. “Such a good girl. Taking cock so well.”

Your insides feel mushy with the praise. He fucks you through as you willed your throat to relax, knowing that each spasm tightened your throat around his cock, turned him on even more — you could already feel his cock throb back again.

He grits his teeth, and then your mouth is empty.

He’s pulled back — his wrapping around his length, and good heavens, even his enormous hands dont make up to the size of his cock as he lazily strokes his shaft. Red, so red it’s nearly a shade of purple — enlarged and throbbing. Your tongue flicks out as you whine at the loss of cock and he smirks ; as his thumb swipes the pearling pre come over his sapping tip, twisting his strokes as they get frantic, rushed, and more desparate.

“So eager for cum, are you?”

He tries sounding tough, but his voice wavers, ending off in an airy note. Fuck, he is close. His lips part and his head is tossed back as he fucks his fist, jerking off you resist the urge to squirm. The sight is so unbelievably hot — the arrogant guard is about to come.

He looks down at you as the first rope of his seed hits your agape mouth.

Warm, salty, and slightly bitter.

He fills up most of your mouth with his come as he keeps on jerking, and you must say that his aim is pretty accurate. Although some of it dribbles to your cheeks and chin as he groans, a sound so primal you feel your cunt clench and throb, knowing that you made him come so hard that you can see his eyes rolled to the back of his head as the last splurt of come hits your tongue.

You eagerly gulp down his release, surprised at how pleasant he tastes, and how easily you agreed to shallow down.

He, however, doesnt stop.

He leans down to you, close, impossibly close till you can feel the warmth of his face radiating to you. His hand cradles your face as one of his fingers swipe at the come on your cheeks and brings it to your lips.

“You don’t wanna waste it, do you?”

You happily oblige.

But you don’t stop either — you swirl your tongue around the digit, long and slender, similiar to how you’d done to his cock. You see his nostrils flare, and another arrogant smirk tugging up his lips as he narrows his eyes at you, pulling his finger away with a pop.

His hands reaches down to straighten up your shoulders — as your tits perk up, still clothed, but the outline of your pebbled nipples are prominent.

Your cheeks burn at the intensity of his gaze on your chest.

He squats down to your height — and before you realise, your arms are bound free. They feel numb and cold, and you flex them around a bit as blood rushes back to your wrists. You feel slightly awkward and blue balled, still feeling your wetness cling to your folds and your abdomen swirl with heat, but —

His arms slide underneath your thighs as he throws you over his shoulders.

“Wha. . . !! ” your throat feels sore, but you hope he gets the surprise you feel being over his shoulders, limbs held down by him, ass in the air and arms holding onto their dear life on his suit as he carries you both forward. Anyone could see you like this — your bare cunt and ass on display, but you don’t think it bothers him.

Or you. If anything, you feel your heart pick its rate at the idea of being caught.

One of his hands lands a slap on your cheeks and your body jolts forward as you yelp, feeling the sting on the muscle as his huge arm caresses the area, your body carried away by him with long, huge and hurried strides. To somewhere you possibly don’t know. . . .

But you aren’t scared, as ironic as that sounds.

“Did you think we were done already, doll?”

a/n : how did we like it? 😈 your feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading 💜

[lovieku]

OBVIOUS ⋆ 정국

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

୨ৎ from the grande series

pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers

ratings: +18 / mdi

warnings: based on this ask, lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (21 n 25), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33

word count: 12.9k

a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻‍💻

────୨ৎ────

you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.

but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.

there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.

meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.

jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.

“looking for anything in particular?”

when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.

he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”

the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.

you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.

you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.

jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.

there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.

deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.

yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.

it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”

when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.

he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”

“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”

he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.

you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”

jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”

your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”

what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.

“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”

you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.

and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.

but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.

still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.

and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.

jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.

you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.

jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.

it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.

one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.

by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”

you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.

he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”

the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.

you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”

he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”

the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.

when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.

he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.

jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.

only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.

but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.

your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.

you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”

he hummed softly.

“i want you to kiss me.”

the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.

jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”

you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.

but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.

he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”

”what? why not?”

your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.

jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”

”but i am sure about it. i want you.”

once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”

your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.

he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.

you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”

his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.

he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.

but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.

you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.

with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.

he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—

“hello?”

his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”

”that would be me, ma’am.”

“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.

”hey. feeling better, miss?”

his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”

jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.

you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”

when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.

it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.

jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.

you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.

with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.

but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.

on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.

and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.

through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.

“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”

you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.

you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”

“i do. very badly.”

his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.

you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”

jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.

it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.

with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.

he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.

you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.

his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.

he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”

in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.

instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.

jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.

”yeah? you like that?”

you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.

”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.

you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”

it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.

you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”

he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”

his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.

you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.

the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.

he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.

he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.

you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.

he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.

he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.

he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.

he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.

you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”

you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.

jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”

“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.

“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.

you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.

when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.

jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.

you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.

“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.

you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”

it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”

your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.

jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.

he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”

the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“

“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”

the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.

he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”

”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.

you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.

he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”

you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”

he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”

you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”

the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”

the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.

he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.

the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.

“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.

but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.

your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”

he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”

jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.

you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”

you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.

you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”

when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.

the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”

he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.

your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.

but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”

you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”

the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”

you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”

he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.

his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.

a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.

he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.

”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.

when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.

he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.

jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.

he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.

you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.

when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”

he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.

you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”

“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.

his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.

what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.

you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.

jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.

your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”

he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.

it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”

he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”

you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”

jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.

he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”

his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.

now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?

but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.

ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.

you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”

the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.

it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”

you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”

the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.

it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.

you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.

you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.

jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.

your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.

in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”

jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”

you whispered, ”please.”

”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”

your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.

in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”

”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.

as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“

”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.

jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.

he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”

you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”

”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.

“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.

as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.

jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.

you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.

as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.

he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”

”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”

”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.

he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.

”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.

it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.

”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.

your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.

it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.

you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.

when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.

you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.

he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”

“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”

“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”

his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.

the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.

he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”

he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”

you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.

now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.

the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.

the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.

your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.

as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”

you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.

he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.

soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.

you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.

”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.

”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.

and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.

the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.

jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”

you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.

jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“

”wanna make you cum, gguk.”

he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.

”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.

but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”

your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.

his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.

”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”

his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.

the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.

you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.

“sweetheart. you sleepy?”

you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.

he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.

as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.

luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.

he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.

but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.

with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.

“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”

jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.

instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.

it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.

but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.

your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”

he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”

your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”

“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.

you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”

jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”

the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.

as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.

but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.

he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”

your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”

“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”

with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”

“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.

“you’re so gross.”

“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.

chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.

at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.

it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”

“hmm?”

“i’m so happy.”

his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.

you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”

your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.

he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”

the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.

your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.

you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.

his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”

the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”

he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.

the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.

he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.

he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.

the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”

it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.

but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.

you were the truth. he was in love.

so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”

the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.

“i love you too, gguk.”

it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.

all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warm nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.

it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.

when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.

and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.

despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.

quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.

even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.

jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.

you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.

“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“

those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”

you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”

you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.

he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.

“babe, c’mon, it was obvious.”

[badbtssmut]

A party for three

As usual, you and your boyfriend Taehyung travel by van to the same festival the both of you have been going to since you first started dating. But when you run into his best friend at the festival, you suddenly end the night with your pussy filled to the brim.

Contains: Everyone is under the influence, drunk, threesome, dubcon cause nobody’s thinking clearly, yn gets called a slut, double penetration in pussy <- yn winces and says it’s too tight but Tae encourages her, yn cries out of pleasure, riding, missionary, doggystyle, boobplay, multi orgasm, just fucking with literally zero thoughts

Admin note: fuck me I wrote this all on the tumblr app and it didn’t fucking save and I had to do it AGAIN!! :)

—

It was a warm night in the middle of summer as you and your boyfriend, Taehyung, pulled up in the parking lot of a venue you knew all too well. The two of you had been coming to this exact music festival for a few years now, and tonight was just the same as any other.

Or so you thought.

You cheered as one of your favorite bands entered the stage and took the crowd by storm, their fans immediately beginning to crowd the stage and the surrounding area.

Taehyung, on the other hand, wasn't even watching the band. He was busy watching you, your smile lighting up your entire face as you swayed your hips to the music and sang along to the lyrics. When you felt his eyes on you, you glanced over at him, smiling at him before you stepped closer and gave him a peck on the lips.

"Are you enjoying the show?" You asked him, giggling.

He shrugged. "I am now," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him.

You giggled at his words; not sure if it was because you were tipsy or because you were amused by his cheesiness, but nonetheless he made you giggle.

A tap on his shoulder caught him by surprise and he turned around in confusion before a grin made his way to his face.

“Hey!” Jimin greeted cheerfully, (he was Taehyung’s best friend), waving at the two of you.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Taehyung asked, which earned a playful push from Jimin.

“Dude, the same as you two are doing here, obviously, except I don’t have a pretty girl on my arm.”

You smiled at his compliment and reached over to give him a hug, and he hugged you back.

Jimin tagged along with the three of you, and the band was still going strong and performing, so you all decided to continue partying together. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and you were definitely a bit more than tipsy at this point. Your head was spinning, your body felt light, and you couldn’t stop giggling as you leaned into Taehyung for support, who was also quite drunk.

The band played a song that was more on the slower side, so everyone was moving along to the music rather than jumping up and down like they had been earlier.

"Hey," Taehyung murmured in your ear, and you turned around to face him, "want to head back to the van and relax a bit?"

You nodded in response.

“Jimin? You coming with us or staying here?" You asked, turning to his best friend.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

And with that, the three of you walked out of the venue and to the parking lot, where you all stepped into the van; it was one of those fancy ones, the really big vans that had a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen— it was fucking expensive but Taehyung insisted that it would be cool for road trips and it definitely was.

You flopped down on the bed and closed your eyes, your head spinning, and a few seconds later you felt the bed sink a bit, and you opened your eyes to see that it was Jimin, and he was staring at you.

"Y/N, I have been curious for a while... can I ask you something?" He said, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Sure." You responded, curious as to what he wanted to know.

"Your boobs, they look really soft, can I touch them? I've always wanted to feel them."

You laughed, his bluntness amusing you. “Okay.”

He reached his hand forward, and you watched as he gently cupped your breasts through your bra. He squeezed them a few times, and then he looked up at you. "Can I touch you under your shirt?" Jimin asked, his eyes hopeful.

You were feeling bold (probably due to all the stuff you took), and also very turned on, so you nodded. "Go ahead."

With your permission, he pushed your shirt up and over your head, and you sat up and unhooked your bra, letting it fall off of your shoulders. And then before you knew it, you and Jimin were cuddled up, your back rested against the wall as he laid on top of you, sucking on your tits and groping your boobs.

You had one hand resting on his head and the other found it’s way between your legs, rubbing your pussy through your shorts, moaning at the sensation.

Before you knew it, Jimin’s cock was in his hands, and he was pushing your shorts to the side and grinding his erection against your clit before it slipped in and was sliding in and out of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he pounded into you, the two of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so wet, baby," he moaned, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy, his hips snapping against your ass, "so good, fuck."

You were panting, throwing your head back as his cock slammed into you, over and over.

The door then creaked open, and you looked over to see that it was your boyfriend, standing in the doorway. However, he didn’t seem fazed by the fact his girlfriend was getting fucked by his best friend. Instead, he stepped forward and crawled onto the bed, next to you. He grabbed hold of your face and kissed you, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you could taste the alcohol on his breath. His fingers trailed to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he continued to kiss you.

Taehyung pulled away, taking in the sight of his best friend’s cock drilling into you.

“Good pussy?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle.

"Very good pussy," Jimin replied, moaning as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, "gonna beat it up so good, gonna fuck it all up," he groaned, his hand reaching down to grab onto your tit.

“Mmhmm, I know how much she likes her pussy getting beat up. Do you like having your pussy beat up, baby?" Taehyung cooed.

You could only whimper, your mouth hanging open and your eyes squeezed shut.

“She loves it, dude, look at her," said Jimin, smirking.

Taehyung watched in awe as you rode his best friend's cock, your walls fluttering around his thick length. Taehyung could no longer ignore his hardening cock, so he reached down and unzipped his jeans, his erection springing free.

You felt him press his cock against your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see him holding his errection, the head rubbing against your cheek.

"You want it, baby?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly, opening your mouth. He guided his cock towards your mouth, and you opened it wider to take it, allowing him to slide it between your lips.

As you sucked on his cock, he ran his fingers over your arms before he held onto your hand and watched as you bobbed your head up and down, slurping and sucking on his shaft, your mouth full of his cock.

“Jimin…” You whined, spreading your legs as far as they could, allowing his cock to slam into you even deeper, and it was driving you crazy.

"What's wrong, miss Tae’s girlfriend? Can't take anymore?" He teased, grinning as he watched your face contort in pleasure, Taehyung’s cock slipping out of your mouth. Jimin grabbed you by the hips, holding you in place as he adjusted himself, fucking you from a deeper angle. Taehyung wrapped your fingers around his shaft, and you started to rub him off, watching as Jimin drilled into you.

"Such a pretty little slut, taking me and Tae's cock, I bet your pussy's just dying to get fucked, isn't it, slut?" Jimin asked with gritted teeth.

You cried out in response, your eyes rolling back in your head, and soon you were cumming, your pussy squeezing and contracting around his cock.

Taehyung stroked himself faster, watching as you came, and Jimin pulled out, wanting to feel your mouth around his cock, while Taehyung took his place, lifting you off the bed and putting you on his lap, facing him.

You sunk yourself onto his cock, wrapping your arms around his neck as you started to ride him, and he thrusted his hips upward, meeting yours.

“Yeah babe, ride my cock just like that, bounce on my dick," Taehyung encouraged, groaning as he watched you bounce up and down on his shaft, his hands resting on your hips.

Jimin stood next to the bed, jerking himself off as he watched you get fucked, and he stepped closer to you and held his cock out, and you immediately took him into your mouth, moaning as you moved your head back and forth, taking him all the way in.

“Love it?” Taehyung cooed, his hands moving to your ass and squeezing your cheeks.

“Love it so much," you managed to say, the two of them thrusting their cocks in and out of you.

"Love your holes filled with my cock and my best friend's, don't you, baby?" Taehyung whispered as he caressed your face.

"Yes, Tae, love it, love cocks so much, please," you begged, your voice a whimper.

"Gonna fuck you until you're sore and can't walk," he said, smirking as he slapped your ass, "want two cocks in your pussy? Think you can handle that?”

“She wants two cocks?” Jimin pulled his errection out of your mouth, stroking himself as he stared at your pussy.

Taehyung lifted you off his dick, turning you around, your back against his chest and his dick pressed against your ass.

"Jimin's cock is nice and big too, so I think it'll be a tight fit. Think you can handle that, babe?"

“Please, want them,” You giggled, rolling your hips impatiently, “put cock in me, I want it."

Taehyung grabbed hold of his cock and pushed the tip into you, and then slowly lowered you down onto him, letting out a hiss as your sweet pussy engulfed him.

You leaned back into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands resting on your stomach. He began to pump his cock in and out of you, his eyes falling closed.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, "love your pussy, so good, babe."

"I love it too," said Jimin, climbing onto the bed, his cock brushing against your thigh, still rock hard. “Where do I put it in? Don’t see space, too tight."

You were about to open your mouth to tell him where to put it, but before you could, Taehyung spoke first.

"Just push it in on top of mine," Taehyung told him, "don't worry, she'll make space."

Jimin did what he was told, and you felt him start to push in, at which you winced and whimpered.

"Shhh, you'll be okay," cooed your boyfriend, his hand going to your clit and rubbing it gently, "just relax and let it happen, baby. Don't worry, we're not gonna hurt you, promise.” He whispered against your ear, before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Too tight, too full…” You whimpered, squirming in his arms, but he held you in place, his grip tightening around your waist.

"Baby, I can feel Jimin’s cock, it’s almost in all the way, you feel it too? He's rubbing his cock against mine," said your boyfriend, chuckling softly.

"Yeah, yeah," Jimin breathed, finally pushing his cock all the way in, letting out a deep groan, "fuck, so tight, fuck."

The two of them started to move, and the sensation of having both their cocks inside of you was almost too much to bear.

"Please, don't stop, don't stop," you chanted, tears streaming down your cheeks as they pumped their cocks in and out of you, stretching your pussy even further, filling you up so perfectly.

They both began to speed up, and the room was filled with the sounds of their grunts and moans, along with the sound of your pussy squelching as they fucked it.

"Shit, she's milking my cock," said Jimin, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, pushing your legs back as he drilled into you. Taehyung never lost his rhythm, pounding upwards with a steady pace, his cock hitting all the right places— while Jimin pushed in, Taehyung pulled out, when Taehyung took a break, Jimin didn’t stop, and occasionally you’d be double drilled when they’d both push their cocks in at the same time, the sensations overwhelming and mind numbing.

You cried out as your pussy began to spasm, and soon you were cumming again, the two of them fucking you through it, their dicks continuing to pound into your pussy, not slowing down for a second.

“Oh, oh!” Your eyes rolled back, mouth wide open and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. You didn’t know how you were taking two cocks at the same time, but you were, and it felt amazing.

After the double penetrating, you ended up in the arms of your boyfriend who fucked you missionary style, the two of you making out while he thrusted into you, his tongue down your neck and his hands exploring your body, squeezing your breasts as he enjoyed your pussy. Then after, Jimin took over and fucked you doggystyle, your legs spread and back arched as his cock rammed into you from behind, your ass jiggling each time his hips met yours.

You didn’t know how long the three of you managed to keep it up, but you fell asleep somewhere between the sex, and when you woke up the sun was shining through the curtains and you were wrapped in a blanket.

Taehyung was heard in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast.. or lunch.

You sat up, wincing as your muscles ached and the events of last night replayed in your head.

That was just a fucked up wet dream, right?

Your boyfriend stepped into the room, holding a plate.

"Hey babe, here, I made you some breakfast, thought you needed it after last night."

[girlygguk]

WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6

pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader

genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy

word count 8.9k

banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

North Star Pavilion, Seoul

Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.

The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.

Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.

“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”

“I’ll see you after the show, J.”

Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.

But you don’t let it.

The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.

The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.

Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.

This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.

Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.

Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.

It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.

So fucking stupid.

You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.

“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.

You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.

“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.

Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”

“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”

His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.

“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.

His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.

You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.

He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.

Until you heard it.

“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”

Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”

“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”

The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.

“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”

The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.

He followed, of course.

Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.

And now, here you are.

Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.

No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.

The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?

Whatever.

Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.

The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.

The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.

You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.

He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.

By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”

You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.

Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.

“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”

You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”

Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”

You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.

“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.

“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”

“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”

Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”

“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.

The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.

You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.

It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.

Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.

He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.

He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.

By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.

He wasn’t.

That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.

While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.

Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.

Maybe.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.

“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”

You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.

She lingers.

He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.

Slut. The both of them.

Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.

His gaze catches yours from the stage.

You look away.

The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.

The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.

Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.

“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.

You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.

The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”

You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”

Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.

The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.

From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.

Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.

Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”

The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.

Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”

You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.

They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.

Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.

Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”

You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.

Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.

Then you see her.

The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.

Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.

But she doesn’t move.

She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.

Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.

The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.

Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.

He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.

But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.

You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.

You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.

She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.

Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.

Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”

You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.

The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.

You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.

“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.

He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.

The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”

It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.

When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.

Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”

Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”

Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.

“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.

Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.

You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”

“What did he do?”

You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”

He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you nod.

His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”

His brows pinch. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Baby—”

“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”

His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.

“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”

“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”

His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”

He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.

“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.

Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”

His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.

“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.

He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.

“And what do you want, baby?”

You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.

“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”

His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.

But you know better.

There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.

His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.

Then you pull back.

His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.

“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.

“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.

You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.

“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”

“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”

“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”

The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”

Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”

A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.

“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”

Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”

“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.

“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”

“Yes!”

You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.

When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.

“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.

“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”

You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.

“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”

Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”

You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”

His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.

A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.

His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.

His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.

“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”

His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.

“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”

“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”

“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.

He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.

The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.

You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.

Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.

Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.

One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.

Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.

Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.

Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.

You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.

Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.

“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.

The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.

You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—

“Uh… J-Jungkook?”

You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.

There is no fucking way.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.

You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”

Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”

Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.

His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”

The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”

Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.

The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.

He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.

“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”

“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”

Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.

He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”

He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”

“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.

Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.

You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.

You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.

His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.

“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”

Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.

“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”

He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”

You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.

Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”

He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.

Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.

“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”

Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.

“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.

He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."

You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.

The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”

He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.

“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”

Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.

“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”

He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”

“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”

You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.

“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”

“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”

A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.

“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”

“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”

Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”

sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips

[slut4jeon]

hi sugarplums update!!! 𝜗𝜚₊˚

firstly…

happy new years everyone!!! <3, ik im a little late to the party but i just wanted to share a few things w you guys

about fics…

I’m currently on the works on a few little things atm teehee

so here’s a lil sneak peak of what I plan the release out of the vault soon!!!

taking idea suggestions <3

Company pt 2

Pairing: brothers bsf!jk x fm!reader

Sypnosis: the annual ski trip held by your school was right around corner, but your relationship with jungkook isn't exactly "exclusive".

Note: continuation of "Company" I'm basing this off "To All The Boys I've Loved Before"

70% done

The Boy is Mine

Pairing: city council!jk x seamstress!reader

Summary: You didn't just fancy New Yorks City Councilman Jeon Jungkook. You were head over heels infatuated over the man whom you've been tailoring suits for.

10% done

The Girl Next Door

Pairing: Mechanic dilf!jk x ex pornstar!reader

Sypnosis: In search of a clean slate from her past of being an ex pornstar, 23 year old yn decides to move into her nana's hometown. What wasn't expected was to get intertwined with the next door neighbor, a single 32 year old mechanic fathering a toddler on his own.

20% done

Money is The Motive

Pairing: lawyer!jk x gold digger!reader

Sypnosis: Would you set aside your greed for the man you love?

Note: my inspo for this fic was based on the Mexican soap drama "Teresa". Basically a beautiful and smart woman born in poverty. She knows her worth and has any man eating out of her palm. However, her ambition gets the best of her when she begins deceiving those around her. She's a social climber and a gold digger who heartlessly pushes aside or uses those who care about her for her own benefit. She sets aside her emotions as she finds them to be a nuisance, she gets what she desires. Every time the protagonist of the soap drama tries to control her feelings, she tells herself: "Entre ser o no ser, yo soy" translating to "Between being and not being, I am."

80% done

Nightcrawler

Pairing: ex!jk x fem!reader

Sypnosis: Ending on bad terms, over two years have passed since your split. Goosebumps cover your skin like scattered crawlers at the thought of your exes return. Subsequently, the one man you've been anticipating to see is back in town and has his eyes set out for you.

Note: 90's inspired ish. I forgot to post this on Halloween but I’ve been holding it off far enough I might as well get it done.

75% done

Flatline

Pairing: fwb idol!jk x fem!reader

“I was out there on the road. Life out of control. She became a victim to my busy schedule. And I know that it's not fair. That don't mean that I don't care. This one's dedicated to the girl out there.”

WIP

[dollyhyuckii]

drabble- late night calls⋆୨୧˚

the fight earlier had left a bitter weight in your chest. hours had passed, but the tension still lingered, thick and unrelenting. you toss and turn in bed, replaying every word exchanged, every raised tone. the argument wasn’t even about anything important, just something trivial that spiraled into something bigger.

your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the vibration cutting through the quiet. his name lights up the screen. jungkook.

you hesitate, staring at the phone as it rings. the hurt is still fresh, but so is the longing. finally, you answer, pressing the phone to your ear without saying anything.

“my baby,” his voice comes through, soft and cautious, yet so unmistakably him. “are you awake?”

you don’t reply right away, your silence speaking volumes.

“pretty girl,” he says gently, “are you still mad at me?”

your throat tightens, the sound of his voice unraveling the wall you’ve tried to keep up. you close your eyes and exhale, letting the quiet hang between you.

“i hate when we fight,” he says after a moment, his voice dipping lower, almost vulnerable. “i’ve been sitting here, thinking about it. thinking about us. and i was wrong, okay? i overreacted.”

the knot in your chest loosens just slightly. “you did,” you say softly, not to hurt him but because it’s true.

“i know,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper. “i just… i don’t like when we’re not okay. it messes with me, baby. i can’t stop thinking about it.”

his honesty chips away at the last of your defenses. you sigh, your fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. “i don’t like it either, jungkook.”

there’s a pause on the other end, the sound of his breathing filling the space. “can i come over? i need to see you.”

you shake your head, even though he can’t see you. “it’s late.”

“i don’t care,” he says firmly. “i’ll stay outside your door if I have to. i just want to make this right.”

tears prick at your eyes, the sincerity in his voice overwhelming. “we’ll be okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“promise?” he asks, his tone softer now.

“promise.”

he exhales in relief, and you can almost picture the small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “i love you,” he murmurs. “more than anything, pretty girl.”

“i love you too, jungkook.”

the call ends, but the weight on your chest feels lighter. you curl back into bed, your heart finally at peace.

𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼-@khaer