#koo x y/n

[mochilatae]

stepbro jungkook coming around to be a menace again

Don't Tell (Jungkook x Fem Reader)

Word Count: 4.41k(ish)

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/n(Fem Reader)

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, kissing (french and other), public sex, making out,mentions of /kinks for tattoos and piercing, teasing, grinding, slow dancing, taboo dynamics (step bro/sis), orgasms (yours and his), creampie, rough/intense sex, step bro/step sis forbidden stuff, dirty talk, praise, wall fucking, sucking (neck and lips), implied secret crush on you behavior, watching/creeping/spying stuff. Probably missed something but oh well.

Genre: PwP

AUs: Step Brother BTS/Step brother Jungkook

Summary: Your stepbrother is a brat. You barely get along but that doesn't mean you like when he shows up on a girl's night out to give you a hard time at a club. A little step sibling ribbing and rivalry goes further than anticipated.

Author’s Note: Purely an excuse to write kinky step bro smut. I liked the idea of step bro Jungkook being a menace/brat and got this suggestion from Anon (thank you and I hope you enjoy it). It's been a minute since I've caved and wrote something just flat out horny/smutty that reaches into Taboo realms.

Ignore the typos and all other oddities.

Enjoy if it's your kind of thing and you're a Jungkook stan. I enjoyed it.

Thank you for reading. If you like it and want to tell me, I'd love to hear it. Reblogging is not required but always appreciated.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @worldwideseal

It didn’t matter how long he’d been watching you. What mattered was that he finally spoke. 

“This is cute… Y/n and her friends, having a girl’s night.” 

You’d only just swallowed down your second shot when the haughty tone came from over your right shoulder. Turning revealed an equally gleeful smirk on familiar, lush lips. 

“Jungkook.” It was all you said–more sighing it and not hiding the way your eyes rolled. You and he had never hidden much from each other–especially not when your dad had married his mom and you’d become unwilling step siblings. 

He wasn’t getting less annoying as the years went by. What was previously an uneasy truce was rapidly crumbling to a simmering antagonism under the guise of sibling rivalry. Not that Jungkook was better than you. He was almost your polar opposite. As far as it went you weren’t sure what your father saw in him that they got on so well. 

Right now all you could see was the glint of his lip piercing and those eyes, shining as he leveled his best smug glare at you. And right now you wished you’d taken the offer for a 3rd shot. Especially with this little brat standing nearly chest to chest. 

“There’s a ton of space around here. You don’t have to stand so close.” You offered a milquetoast smile, forcing your gaze away enough to push his lithe form to the peripherals of your vision. There was PLENTY more to look at, even if it was all in the form of gyrating bodies on the dancefloor nearby. 

“Maybe.” Jungkook looked around, face going from smug to vaguely disinterested. Eventually his eyes were back on you—that much was clear in the edge of your vision. It didn’t quite make your skin crawl but a prickle was working its way up your arms. 

He just HAD to find a way to ruin a really nice night. But that was what siblings were prone to doing. 

Jungkook snorted. You knew the sound–the light raised lip. The sneaking view of teeth and one corner of his mouth crooked. No need to look. If you did it would only serve to bother YOU more. Per the usual standard, he seemed absolutely unbothered. 

“Interesting choice to hang with the girls, Y/n.” A loaded statement that you could see the trap buried deep inside. You shrugged, opting to ignore it for now. This was public and not the dinner table at home, or shoulder to shoulder with him at the kitchen sink after dinner, scrubbing up the dishes while you both sniped each other with backhanded teasing. 

“It’s ladies night.” You replied. Another sound–this one a chuckle–and Jungkook reached around you, snatching a waiting drink. You’d paid for it but he wasn’t going to make good on compensation. Still you swallowed hard watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his adams apple as almost all of the glass contents disappeared down his throat. After the glass was back exactly where it’d been on the table, Jungkook turned his focus on you again. 

“I was wondering. There’s a lot of people here.” His observation was dry and plain. Maybe in another time and space you would find Jungkook as hot as he acted like everyone found him, but right now you just wanted to dump the remains of that drink on his head and make him leave. 

But you didn’t own the club. It was a free country. The best bet might be to leave. 

“By all means..” You began,head tilting towards the front of the club and the exit doors. Jungkook’s rising brow and scoff told you he’d picked up the hint and dropped it again just as quickly.

“You’re a real peach, Y/n. What’s with the hostility? We’re not enemies.” 

“We’re not friends either. We’re—”

“Family.” He finished, earning your glare. It was so hot you’d hoped he could feel it boring right through his skull. But as usual Jungkook ignored your reaction. 

“We’re NEVER going to be family.” You shot back. “It’s bad enough that my dad remarried. I’m coping.”

“My mom makes him happy. Don’t be selfish by making it about you. Everyone else gets along.” 

“How fortunate for them.” You sniffed and pushed the empty shot glass towards the small gathering of glasses left by your friends. Friends who’d disappeared in various directions. You were due to join most of them on the dancefloor in a minute and that was some hopeful escape. 

Without missing a beat Jungkook moved on and pointed at the dancefloor. 

“Yes..” You sighed. “What about it?”

“You here to drink and watch people have fun or do you dance?” 

“You’re a real prick, Koo.” You gritted out, stepping away from the table. It wasn’t worth calling Jungkook out as he moved too, keeping you within reach. It was odd but not surprising at the same time. He was annoyingly close at home too. 

“You’re such a sweet step sister. Answer the question.” 

Your eyes rolled, head turning his way. Hopefully he saw it. Based on the even line of his lips, if he did he couldn’t care less. Jungkook had a phenomenal poker face.

“About what? …The dancing?” 

“Yes.” His lids fluttered in faint annoyance but it disappeared under the club lights painting his face with a rainbow of colors. 

“I can dance. As a matter of fact if you’ll excuse me—” You stepped away, going towards the dancefloor edge, where an opening was available. It was a palpable heat the closer every footstep took you towards the rabble.  

And as usual Jungkook was riding your ass the whole way, but it was..whatever, thanks to the helping hum of the shot flowing through your system. The club lights swirled and slowed perceptibly as the first hints of alcohol reached your brain. A gauzy sensation slid over your senses. Annoyance ebbed away by degrees. 

Instead you swayed back a little, feeling the bass flowing over you, pulsing. Riding your skin as your attention went out to those heads and the shadowy hands raised, waving and gesturing in time with the beat. 

“Get your ass out there, Y/n. Or are you afraid?” Again Jungkook’s voice came from over your shoulder as he spoke right to your earlobe.

Run your mouth some more, Jungkook. Watch me get a first tonight: kicked out for fighting in a club. Screw best behavior–I’ll blame the alcohol.

Your shoulders squared. Tossing your hair back, you slipped between the bodies without a backwards look. It didn’t matter if Jungkook followed you over the line, into the dark heat of the dancefloor. He could hang out in the corner all night or he could fuck off back home. You were going to dance for YOU, not to prove anything to him.

You’d barely stopped at a big enough space near the wall and one of the floor to ceiling speakers by the DJ booth and turned to face the way you’d come. No sign of Jungkook and if he was following he’d have a challenge: the bodies closed up the path you’d used as the dancing went on. 

You couldn’t help smiling and letting the sensation of the booming bass rattle inside your chest. Soon it had your hips moving and your body was doing what it did in your bedroom alone, stereo up and lights dimmed. Your spine undulated as your entire body got into the motion. 

Soon the shifting of your hips had your center tingling. You loved the music and the feeling of the throbbing heat closing in all around. It would probably have you sweating soon enough but that was what the pulled back hair and short, strapless club dress was all about. 

You’d chosen wisely tonight, grateful for the easy movement of your bare arms and shoulders. The flexing in your thighs unburdened by the hem at mid thigh. The dress material was flexible. Forgiving. Light and fitted. 

You felt good. You moved even better, head lolling back as you turned your body slowly, eyes closed. It was you feeling the music. Running fingers through your hair and humming, even if you could only feel it in your throat, not hearing a single note over the music flooding your ears. 

You���d find your friends later–right now this was your song and you needed to enjoy it for a while. 

What you hadn’t seen right away was what you finally caught when your eyes opened and you ended up facing the way you’d come before. This time the crowd had parted again–just enough a figure slipped through. 

You knew that shaggy head of hair and the tangle of bangs. The glint of silver in the lip. The tattoo, running from wrist up around the bicep to disappear under the sleeve of the black t-shirt. 

Jungkook.

Like a fucking lost puppy. But that wasn’t what you saw in those eyes. They weren’t shining with amusement or pity. It was something more…raw. Something visceral. A strong feeling rose in your belly as your hips stalled for a moment. 

Head cocked, he came closer as you grunted and turned your back. The LEAST he could do was leave you alone. There were plenty of women here and he was a single man–so far as you knew. And as far as his mom believed, an angel. 

The pressure of fingers tips running the back of your arm had fresh prickles climbing your skin. Your lips parted. He didn’t seem to hear the curse you spat with a half backward glance over one shoulder. 

Yes, his profile was right there. Right fucking there. AS USUAL. But the heat wasn’t cloying anymore. It was all slowly gathering somewhere low and tight. Somewhere under that dress hem. Your thigh muscles seized. Jungkook’s fingers curved over one hip and tugged, guiding your ass back into his hips.

One thing about Jungkook: he could move his body. He was athletic enough. Varsity something. Too many varsity “somethings” in high school and college– as you were privy to hear about at dinner too often. 

Breath caressed your shoulder. Lips brushed as he giggled. This close you didn’t need to shout and neither did Jungkook. So you heard him loud and clear.

“What’s this? Y/n does dance. Is this what you do in your room with the door closed?” 

“Go away.” You growled but didn’t pull back. Jungkook’s slow body rolling didn’t change pace or intensity, staying on beat. It kept you there as well. 

“Not a denial. I’m not leaving, sis.” 

“Don’t call me that.” The point of your elbow jammed into his belly only served to tighten muscle that was already visible the times you’d caught him running around outside with his shirt off. Or around the house–more often these days. No amount of teasing made him self conscious enough to add a layer. 

“Hmmm.. I’m sorry.” He hummed, cloying breath going right up your nape. He followed it to pause behind your ear.

“What do you want me to call you?” 

“Y/n. That’s my name. You didn’t forget that.” 

“No. There’s a lot about you I can’t forget.” 

“Creep..” You breathed as warmth feathered your lobe, then lips touched. Pecked. When teeth trapped and tugged you winced and shuddered. When your hand shot up towards his head, Jungkook’s quick reflexes caught your wrist and he guided it behind to rest at the small of your back. A few long fingers circled around the bone guaranteed you’d be hard pressed to try again. 

“I’m faster. What were you going to do, pull my hair? Not very nice of you..” 

Your chest tightened but the pounding was getting louder. Jungkook’s other palm slid up from your hip to just under your navel and pressed there. Both of you had stopped moving except for the barest sway left and right. You’d long since lost the beat. The music was a distant sound. A cover, like the sweeping club lights well overhead, none of it reaching further than your shoulders. 

Any onlooker would only see Jungkook whispering. Not exactly a sight out of the ordinary for a club at this hour. If they didn’t know the relationship between you, they’d just assume it was two people feeling the music and falling into a mood together, soon to escape and do the thing most club night hookups ended in. 

Which was the last thing that should happen with you and Jungkook. 

You licked your lips and tried to speak. “Koo—”

“Hmmm.”

It was more affirmation fueling the option your lizard brain had turned him into. An objection was desperately trying to escape to bring sense to you both.

Fingertips curled against your skin. Although your skin was warm under the dress material his touch was even warmer as he added pressure.

“What are you doing?” You finally gasped, choking on any further words as his palm descended. His touch crept lower, wandering between your thighs and they shivered then clamped tight. Your head snapped to one side, tilted sharp. “..N…No..” 

“So why aren’t you fighting me? Why do you feel so…hot? Isn’t THIS what happens in a club?” 

Breath huffed in tempo as Jungkook chuckled louder. His teeth gripped a bit of skin near your jugular and let it slip free, then he sucked the spot until a wet ring remained. 

He wasn’t far off. You’d done this plenty of times with handsome strangers whose acquaintance was hours old…or sometimes less. That was completely different—who Jungkook was created a huge problem being anything BUT a stranger. 

Cognitive dissonance built in the form of pressure behind your eyes and at the back of your head. But it wasn’t enough to make you pull away. And Jungkook pulled you even closer. The thick heat curved along your ass was familiar. And all your insides knew were that they needed to be stuffed deep. 

The name that came with it was a piddling detail. It wasn’t illegal. Morality and ethics aside. 

“We’re siblings.” 

“Anyone here know that?”

“Are you…serious?” You whined but your body just wasn’t cooperating. The fact was: Jungkook was just as sexy and good looking as every other man here, past or present. 

And right now his arm looped your waist as he backed you both through the crowd, taking the brunt of collision as he bullied you both whatever direction only he knew. Eventually the backward traveling came to a stop and the club swirled into a blur of color and light until you found a wall against your back. 

Then found Jungkook’s eyes gazing from below as he took one knee. His fingers touched your knees and climbed, taking the dress hem with it until he’d bunched it at your hips. His head bowed as he kissed the inside of one thigh, then turned his profile and nuzzled the other side. 

You swallowed down a moan and your fingers dashed through his hair, snarling and grasping. Whether it was to pull him away or closer, that wasn’t clear. Right now you were just holding on for the ride. He exhaled over the center of your panties with a groan, then buried his nose and mouth there, inhaling. His shoulders shifted as the vibration of his moan moved through your sex. 

“Koo…we’re—” 

“Shhh.” A pinching bite cut your objection off neatly. The seam of your panties shifted as he tucked most of it to one side and traced the back of a nail along your folds. It might have been the height of scandal since Jungkook knew you–until now in unassuming and mundane ways–but it was hard to think straight and do the reasonable thing. 

Instead your body followed Jungkook’s movement, pulled towards him with the magnetic energy that kept you from separating yourself and walking away. You SHOULD find your friends. You SHOULD be with them, shaking your ass and singing as you all sweated and lived your best night. 

Instead you were here as Jungkook stood again and cupped the back of your neck. He paused, lips a hair’s breadth from your own. His eyes seemed so deep and full of fire–like he saw nothing wrong with this. Like you were the hottest girl here and he wanted to devour you. 

“What are we doing, Y/n? We’re just two people.. Don’t you like it?”

“Yes..” You whined, chasing his tongue when it snuck out and followed your lower lip. His nails sunk into your nape and he tugged your mouth close, fitting his lips perfectly. The kiss was shy for a moment then you melted against the wall and Jungkook sank into you. 

He was exactly as hard as you’d felt on your ass minutes ago, but this time he slowly rocked himself against your exposed mound. And it worked: your left foot left the floor and that knee bent. He caught the back of that knee and wrapped it over his hip. 

The front of his jeans were open so fast you didn’t know when he had the time or focus while he kissed you in a way that had the world blown away–like it was you and him. In a hallway somewhere–the hallway in your house, by the front door, in the dark. Trying to keep quiet so no one in the house would wake up, come down with questions and leave with shock. 

Jungkook had you feeling totally bereft of clothes and it was a brand new experience, this raw intensity. A free hand dug deep down the front of his pants. Your grip tightened on his forearm, distracted to find the thick lines of muscle there. His heat and scent curled under your nose as he broke another kiss and gulped down a mouthful of club air. 

“Then don’t ask me to stop. I want to feel it…Tired of just seeing you. I want to know what you’re like inside. Lie and tell me you aren’t curious too. Can’t ignore it…been trying to. It’s..wrong but I don’t care.” 

You listened to the words and melted like butter around the blunt shape gliding through your folds to open them. The air was pushed out of you just a little when Jungkook’s broad chest crushed yours. He pinned you hard into the wall. Something trickled out of you and he sucked your lower lip. 

Don’t think about how wrong this is. How he’s bringing this onto us both.

But he was also right: you couldn’t deny Jungkook was an attractive guy. And he was all over you, the way you’d ached for many, MANY nights out with your girls. The way you’d hoped with every extended stare between you and strangers that hadn’t panned out. 

Your eyes screwed shut so tight that sparkles showered behind your eyes. Your lungs ached, slacked lips pulling far too much air in. Waiting, anticipation burning in your cheeks. 

“J..just ..please..” You wheezed. 

Jungkook’s cock was thick as it sank into you. Your head reeled as the world canted dramatically. Closed eyes rolling, you choked on another gasp. Pressure filled you as his cock slid inside. The stretch was so good against your reflexive tightening, earning a deep groan from his lips. His face stayed buried deep against your throat and he pulled back slowly, then went in again. Over and over, a few times until the glide was ultra smooth–wet and seamless. 

Then the pacing thrusts began. Jungkook drove into just off the beat of the music. This song was a little faster and your body bounced along, back sliding up and down the wall. The material of your dress slowly rode up with it and sweat built with the heat of your skin touching the rapidly heating club wall. 

“You’re so tight..godddd..” He marveled, sounding far off and delirious but kept on, pumping without pause. Your heel climbed up the back of Jungkook’s thigh and your calf tightened over the round of his ass. 

His lips touched your chin and his hips rammed harder. The fireworks show filling the black of your closed eyes changed colors as pleasure began to build in your stomach, then lower. The pressure was so good. And the impact was adding a bite of stimulation right to your clit. 

You hadn’t asked much about Jungkook’s private life. You hadn’t seen him coming home with anyone or around town with a girl. He never seemed to talk about it. But maybe that was why he was so hungry now, pushing into you like he’d been suffering a long sex drought. 

Your head went airy and your chest burned as you drew in another deep breath. Nails sinking into Jungkook’s shoulder through the shirt didn’t seem to make a dent in his focus. He went on and on, unabated until you almost fainted in the rush of an orgasm. The aperture of your vision shrank, leaving a pin point of strobe right over Jungkook’s head that provided just one solitary focal point. The high blew through you. Walls and thighs clenched Jungkook’s girth. 

Let god strike you and down and the devil laughingly take your soul, this felt so good your soul might depart your body as skin sang.  

As you milked his cock, Jungkook’s lips bruised yours with a shaking kiss. It was as if he was trying to climb up the wall or push you through it–either one you didn’t care, off in your own world far beyond the roof of the club or the stars in the sky. A moan of climax left his lips as  Jungkook’s tongue brushed across your lips. He gave a full body jerk, pulsing deep inside. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening. You’d paid enough attention in sex ed to know exactly how dumb you were both being, among other things in this moment. 

Jungkook’s orgasm ended just as yours faded into a few lingering twitches. Carefully he released your knee and you planted that foot on the ground. He eased back and gave you enough space, watching as you panted, brushing hands over your thighs and wanting to shrivel at the slickness running down the insides. Instead of doing anything to diminish it, you tugged the dress back down and said a prayer. 

While you swept fingers along your hair and smooth the frazzled strands down with gathered beads of sweat, he redid his jeans, zipped, buttoned, then flashed a fucked out grin. The whites of his teeth were almost electric under the black lights overhead. 

That meant anything of a certain color would show too–like giant arrows pointing right to your whorish behavior. You started to sweat again for more serious and socially disastrous reasons but Jungkook’s brows furrowed when he noticed. 

Again he came close. “What is it? No one saw.” 

You scoffed, head still spinning furiously. You took his forearm when offered and he backed through the space you had, making a way for you two to head towards a dancefloor exit. Not the same direction you’d come, at least. Every step you could feel a little more fluid tickling as it dribbled inches more down your skin. 

“You’re asking me that… Were you not just there?” He was being dense on purpose, maybe. Or he was as spun out as you probably looked. Jungkook stopped at the opening leading to a dark hall as you spied the glowing sign with male and female symbols just overhead. 

Well at least he was doing a smart thing: the bathroom. Privacy enough and the means to clean up–as much as it mattered. But that also left other problems: your friends. 

“Jungkook…” As he walked you held his wrist. He didn’t look back, paused at the Women’s bathroom door. One palm pressed the dark wood and he glanced over. 

“Hmm?” 

“...What about them?” He had to know. Jungkook was no dummy–he had common sense, even if he’d parted from it tonight for a bit. Wearing fresh anxiety all over every feature, here in the yolky hallway light without the blessing of shadows and denial, there was no mistaking the rising panic in your eyes. How the fuck would you being to explain or lie to a group of people all agreed that you were the worst liar among them all? 

Jungkook’s brow rose, then he glanced back to the end of the hall, out where the rest of the club was still alive and steaming through another song. Voices, laughter and reality was back there. You weren’t ready for any of it, legs still watery and head still foggy from the endorphins swilling through your blood.

He offered a thin smile,pushed the door faintly and nodded into the gap. 

“What about them?” You growled and he relaxed with a bigger smile, pushing the door open a bit more. “...They don’t know I’m here. I’ll leave first..if that’s okay?” 

“Jesus..” You sighed. “...It’ll have to do. We…we can’t talk about this. Like…EVER. Not to them OR anyone else.” Anyone including your parents. This was such a pinnacle and low moment of the most scandalous situation you’d ever been in. 

“What should I tell your dad if he asks?” You didn’t know why Jungkook was asking this. Your dad was never one to be in your business, especially if it was a girl’s night. You were legal age by a couple years and independent. You might still live at home but you paid rent and held down a job. Your dad seemed good with assuming you could handle yourself. That status quo would do just fine for you too. 

“He won’t…” 

“But–” 

“He WON’T.” You reiterated with eyes narrowed. That earned a playful smirk from Jungkook, the piercing on his lip suddenly shining so clearly it was almost the only thing you could focus on. You HAD to get it together and go home, not making it obvious that anything had happened between you and your step brother.

Even if you liked it. God help you… the urge for more was also buried deep down. But you ignored it in favor of disappearing through the open door. Jungkook’s hand slid down as he let the door close almost entirely. You heard his words before the world was closed away. 

“You’re kind of a bad girl, Y/n. You keep it up and I might have to blow your cover.”

[ethereal-engene]

the rainy night | jungmo

pairing: bf!jungmo x gn!reader

genre: slice of life, comfort, and fluff // warnings: brief mentions of anxiety

summary: Jungmo doesn’t take long to realize that you can’t sleep because of the thunder, so he does his best to help you sleep.  // word count: ~700 

note: It is actually raining quite bad here when I’m writing this and the rumbling feels like it’s shaking everything 😭

Most nights when you sleep with Jungmo, it takes less than 25 minutes before you fall into a deep sleep. Something about the warmth of his arms around your waist and your back against his chest is enough to send you into much needed sleep. Not to mention how soft your bed is, especially with his totoro plush.

Not to be biased but it is one of your favorite plushies that he has. Just when you thought he couldn’t get any cuter, he revealed that he had this plush. 

You frequently take it with you around the apartment when he’s not home yet because it smells like him, but also reminds you of those late night video calls where he would just laying with it in his arms. Wishing that it was you and you wishing the same. Fast forward to a couple months later, you two moved in together. So now, he doesn’t use it as much because well you’re here now to actually cuddle with him. 

Despite today being a long day for you, you just couldn’t sleep with the ongoing rain storm passing by. Not to mention the sound of the claps of thunder kept shaking and rumbling the entire place. They were constantly happening and with you not being able to effectively lessen the noise, you kept having to place your hands over your ears. 

You and Jungmo still weren’t heading to bed yet but sitting in bed while on the phone. He had noticed that you would cover your ears as soon as lightning would flash across the sky and create a sudden burst of light that lit up the room.

And as one would guess the rumbling noise did shortly follow after the lightning struck the sky. Normally the thunder and lightning aren’t so bad but this storm was happening over the course of Thursday through the weekend, so it wasn’t going anywhere. Jungmo wasn’t sure what to do but it didn’t take long for him to notice that it was going to later become another problem if you were trying to sleep. Plus, he knows that you’re tired and would like to at least make sure you’re able to get the best rest possible under his care. 

It’s the least he could do for you and knows you would do the same for him after a long day.  He’s about to offer some sleep headphones before you practically jump on him because of the sound. Your heart nearly jumps out of its chest and is beating fast. It doesn’t seem to slow down until he grabs a hold of your hand to let you know that he’s here for you. Unsure if he can feel the heart beating, you do your best to take deep breaths and realize that everything will be okay & it’s just a little bit of thunder and lightning. 

He starts to rub your back in hopes that it’ll help calm you down and whispers “I’m here and all will be okay.” Hearing his voice brings you out of your head that was racing back and forth about how the rain could bring a blackout or worse. Eventually, your breathing starts to even out and you lean into his chest. 

“Are you feeling better now? We can always watch something so that you’re not hyper-focused on the rain!” Jungmo asks you with soft eyes. 

You respond with a shake of head and respond to him with “Yeah, I am. Thanks for that and no we don’t have to watch anything. I think the sound of your heartbeat is more comforting right now. If you don’t mind, can I sleep on your chest tonight?” 

“Of course, my love. Plus that just means I can give you more forehead kisses!” 

You chuckle and a heartfelt smile graces both of your faces. Not long after, you fall asleep first as his heartbeat lulls you to sleep. When he’s positive that you’ve arrived in dreamland, he plants a kiss on your forehead and makes sure that you’re in a comfortable position, Jungmo closes his eyes with a peace of mind.

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

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"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[shadowkoo]

Oh Brother

→ Summary: Things are bound to get messy when you fuck your brother’s best friend repeatedly. Better not get caught, for both of your sakes.

↠ jungkook x f.reader | 1.8k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college au, pwp

→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, dirty bathroom quickie, flashbacks to hooking up the night before, koo fucks you hard from behind, riding on his fingers, sloppy handjob, i think that’s it but let me know if i missed any!!

→ Author Note: soooooo part 2 coming soon 👀 what do we think?

“You didn’t say Jungkook was coming,” you say nervously after noticing him with the rest of your friend group at the bar. Fuck.

Your brother gives you a weird look, “Since when is that an issue? You’ve always gotten along with ‘Kook.”

You attempt to relax your shoulders and do your best to look as innocent as possible.

“Did something happen? Did he do something to you?” Jaemin quizzes you, failing to hide his ‘concerned brother’ act.

“No…Of course not!” Phantom kisses on your neck remind you that your statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. Jungkook did more than something to you last night, the faint bruises on your inner thighs and the soreness you feel today prove just how much he did…

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook immediately notices that his best friend has arrived with his ‘off-limits’ sister. Though you weren’t so off-limits last night…

Holding your stare, his lip curls up just the slightest into a very familiar smirk, one that he knows happens to drive you crazy.

“Hey man, we missed you last night,” Jaemin says, going in for the typical half-hug all guys do for whatever reason.

“Bro, no you didn’t,” Jungkook jokes, “You might’ve had an actual chance with the ladies since I took off so soon.”

“Fuck you,” Jaemin laughs, “I’m gonna grab a drink, you guys want anything?”

Jungkook lifts the beer bottle in his hand, “I’m good.”

“Same here, I’ll grab one when I’m, uh… ready.” Jungkook hasn’t stopped looking at you yet, causing you to stumble over your words.

Jaemin squints at the two of you, “You’re both acting so weird today.”

Jungkook tenses beside you, his body going stiff for just a moment, but his expression remains unreadable, refusing to spill any of the secrets swirling beneath the surface. It's as if he's mastered the art of control, locking away whatever turmoil or guilt threatens to slip through. Yet, the subtle clench of his jaw and the tightness in his posture tell you there’s more simmering just beneath his calm exterior.

“Kinda feels like an off-day,” he says, trying to play it cool. “Remind me to stick the next party out, will you?”

Jaemin’s normal smile returns. “Yeah because we both know how well you listen to me. I’ll be back in a bit. Relax, have some fun,” he says to you, knowing that you’ll try to find an empty corner to claim as your own sooner rather than later.

“So what then,” Jungkook starts when your brother is just out of earshot, “Are we going to pretend that last night never happened?”

“Wouldn’t that be the smart thing to do?”

“No.”

“No?” You’re surprised at his answer.

He pulls you aside, out of the eye of everyone you know, and kisses you hard. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” You don’t answer so he kisses you again, this time his tongue lingers on yours.

“Is that what you want?” he says after pulling back.

“No,” you breathe.

“Then tell me,” he urges, pushing you up against the wall, “What is it that you want, Y/N?”

You’re the one that pulls him in for another gut-twisting kiss this time. But it’s short-lived.

“What do you want,” he urges again, his hands gripping your sides causing your insides to melt all over.

“I want this,” you whine, running your hand over the front of his jeans, feeling his length pressing hard against the ungiving material, “I want you.”

“I could get used to hearing that,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you towards the bathroom that’s just around the corner.

His words trigger an instant flashback to last night, pulling you back to the moments that still cling to your mind. The thick tension, the rushing adrenaline, the way everything had unraveled so quickly—it all comes rushing back. 

Jungkook’s rough fingers tease your opening, gliding across your warmth with ease.

“Mmm. I could get used to this,” he smirks, enjoying the pleasure painted on your face as you lay sprawled out on your bed.

He hasn’t got a clue how he ended up this lucky. Just a few minutes ago he was hiding from a one-night-stand gone wrong, and now here he is, doing the unimaginable with his best friend’s little sister.

Though you aren’t so ‘little’ anymore, college has made sure of that.

Gone are the awkward haircuts, the childish features, and the gangly limbs that once defined you. In their place stands someone entirely transformed—sharp cheekbones, full lips (that are gorgeously parted right now), and an air of quiet confidence that wasn’t there before.

Your eyes, once wide with innocence, now hold a depth and intensity that speak of naughty experiences; experiences that now define a certain sparkle he discovers once he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Well don’t. This isn’t going to end well. You and I both know it,” you pant as his lips trail lower and lower along your bare chest until he’s hovering above your hardening nipples.

This is such a bad idea…

“Does that matter?” He questions, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“Shouldn’t it?” You lean up on your elbows to look at him.

He pulls back to return your gaze, “It’s not like anyone has to know. Are you going to tell?” His voice is low, almost a whisper, daring you to break the silence hanging between you. The weight of his question lingers in the air, thick with the unspoken consequences.

You shake your head, but it feels like more than just an answer—it’s a surrender. No, you’re not going to tell. You can’t. The secret is now yours to keep forever, whatever happens tonight is just between the two of you.

“Exactly, so can we continue?”

This time, you nod, a hint of mischief curling at the edges of your lips. What’s the harm in indulging in a little secret fun? The thrill of keeping something just for yourselves sends a rush through you, making the moment feel even more electrifying.

There’s a rebellious allure in the secrecy, a temptation in knowing no one else has to find out. Your pulse quickens at the thought, excitement mingling with the danger of being caught, but you push that aside. 

Right now, it feels too good to care.

He gently lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his touch warm and tender. His lips brush against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss that lingers just long enough to stir something inside you. But then it deepens, growing more intense, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss intensifies. The fluttering in your stomach turns into a full rush of adrenaline, making your pulse race as you lean into him, lost in the moment.

“Wait,” you say in between his kisses, “Won’t they miss you down at the party?”

Jungkook chuckles as he pulls back once again, “They think I left to avoid Raina. And yes, before you ask, I’ll sneak out after. Now do you want to keep going, or should I leave now?”

“Don’t you dare leave,” you say, pulling him into another quick kiss, “I want this. I want you.”

Jungkook works his way back down your body, leaving warm kisses on your breasts, down your stomach, only to stop just above the waistband of your panties. His fingers slide underneath the fabric and linger where they once were. He looks up at you for permission to touch you again, which you quickly grant in need of feeling him feeling you.

You reach for him as his fingers dip into you, stretching you for what is to come. Jungkook hisses as your cold hand slips into his boxers, tugging on his half-hard length. Your lips move to his neck when he adds another finger inside of you, your head feeling fuzzy from the growing knot in your stomach. His mouth presses hard against yours as he flips you over so you’re on top of his hips. The perfect position for you to grind into his quickening fingers.

“Take this off,” he whispers, pulling at the back of your bra until it unhooks. Once rid of the lacy piece, he moves to your panties. Stripping off your final layers of clothing, you bare yourselves before climbing back into each other’s arms.

Jungkook’s kisses turn lazy as your body moves along on his girth, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how wonderful your wet center feels against his hardening length. Perching above him, you align yourselves before lowering slowly onto him.

The deep groan that leaves his lips could have been enough to send you over the edge just then. Especially as his arms encircle around your back while you bounce on him, throwing your head back at how good this feels, despite how bad it is that you’re fucking your brother’s best friend. 

None of that matters right now.

Jungkook flips you over and lifts your ass in the air so he can take you from behind. You have zero complaints. Clenching around his thick, throbbing member, your inner walls pulsate with each deep thrust. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you pant, “Right there, please. Right there!”

His member stretches your insides as he continues to pound into you from behind, filling you in the best way possible, expanding parts of you that you didn’t know could. His thrusts meet you with perfect precision and accuracy, bringing you so close to that edge again.

One of his hands wraps around your front, and the small circles he rubs in between your legs are exactly what you need. The coil snaps, sending you over the edge and into a spiral of hot pleasure, Jungkook following right behind you.

You lay there catching your breath while listening to each other’s beating hearts, ignoring the sounds of the party lingering on outside your bedroom door as you drift into a well-needed sleep. Tomorrow you can deal with the whole brother’s best friend thing.

The recent memory fades as you’re brought back to the present where Jungkook has you in a small, and probably hazardous, dingy bar bathroom. His lips replace the phantom kisses you felt earlier as he lifts you onto the sink counter.

“Hurry,” you whine while quickly undoing his jeans, silently praying that none of your friends notice the sudden absence of you and him. Hoping the shadows and noise of the crowd will keep your escape unnoticed. The last thing you need is for anyone to start asking questions, or worse, to catch on to what’s happening.

You prepare yourself for the good time you know is coming, and grip the sink tightly so you don’t crash into the mirror behind you from his powerful thrusts.

The bathroom door opens suddenly, and a pissed-off-looking Jaemin is standing there. His eyes drift to you sitting on the bathroom sink with your dress hiked up, then to Jungkook, standing in between your open, exposed legs, with his jeans loosened around his waist.

Jaemin’s face flushes crimson, the fury unmistakable as his eyes lock onto the scene unfolding before him. His fists clench at his sides, every muscle in his body tensing with barely contained rage. 

Across from him, Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, the tension crackling in the air around them.

“Oh brother….”

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[jj-one]

9:20 AM.

Jungkook (your boyfriend) knew exactly how to make you feel good, only he knew how to please your body.

pairing: bf!Jungkook x gf!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, teasing, dom!jungkook x sub!reader, marking, jungkook has a tongue piercing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), mentions of crying (from pleasure), female orgasm words: 1.2k

**old repost from my deleted blog

You were excited for your boyfriend to come back home from his morning jog. You woke up after he did and he left the cutest little handwritten note on the refrigerator. It said on the note that he went out for his morning jog and is heading to the market after to pick a few things up for tonight’s dinner. You smile at his note and thought it was so sweet how he could’ve just sent a simple text but wanted to go the extra mile by handwriting a note for you. Deciding to do your own thing while he’s gone, you pick a romantic comedy movie to watch on Netflix to pass the time. Patiently waiting for Jungkook to arrive back home, you heard the door suddenly unlock and hurry to get up to go leave out of your room.

“JUNGKOOK!” You shout eagerly, almost pouncing on him once he gets through the door.

“Y/n, my baby girl,” He greets you back with a doting smile, wrapping his arms around your waist, encasing himself into you.

You wasted no time to start kissing him, immediately going in to grab his pretty face with both of your hands, crashing your lips into his. He must’ve been thinking about doing this all day because once you two start making out, he carries you straight into both of your guy’s bedroom and places you gently onto the bed.

Jungkook knew exactly how to make you feel good, only he knew how to please your body. He’d begin by peppering your jaw and neck with a plethora of kisses, leaving a faint trail of hickies behind. He’d also be rubbing your inner thigh with his large hands that always turn you on every time you look at them. The prominent veins on his hands and arms when he flexes just a teensy bit is enough to make you cum in your panties.

“I love you so much,” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, still kissing and sucking on your neck as if he’s a vampire.

“Love you too koo— fuck…” Your response was interrupted by what he was doing to you next. Jungkook’s tattooed hand makes its way down to the tight shorts you were wearing. The shorts were pink and had a cute hello kitty design on them, Jungkook was the one who bought them for you actually. He’s always loved seeing you in the clothes he bought for you over the years, acting like a little kid on Christmas.

Jungkook is rubbing you over your shorts and the friction is driving you absolutely insane. You can just feel how wet you’re becoming, the juices from your heat start to overflow; seeping through your panties and he feels you throbbing on his fingers. He’s got a sinister look on his face and you already know that means you’re in for something amazing to make your morning.

“Sheesh baby, look how wet your pussy’s getting…” Jungkook looks in awe, hissing at the sight of a giant wet spot forming in your panties after he took off your tight skimpy shorts.

Jungkook begins caressing, kissing, and licking your lower body, touching every curve and crevice of you, not missing a single spot. His touch is so gentle, so warm, so inviting. His tongue rolls along the inside of your thigh, the steel metal of his tongue piercing feels cold but the sensation tingles down your spine. Flinching from the action he performed, he notices straight away, eyebrows raised in a sudden stir of confusion.

“You okay baby?” He asks softly before continuing, wanting to make sure nothing he did hurt you.

“Y-yes, just feeling a little sensitive that’s all…” You say quietly.

You feel him smile against your soft flesh, planting more wet kisses against yours thighs and laid his head there for a while to feel your warmth.

“I could be like this all day y’know?” He basks in your presence, speaking in a mumbled tone, half his face still buried in your thighs.

“I know koo.”

Jungkook raises his head a tiny bit just to face your clothed pussy again. He couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot, bringing his face—specifically his nose, closer to you to get a whiff of your sweet aroma. He practically buries his nose into your panties and drags it down your slit.

“You smell so good..” He was intoxicated by your scent, loving the natural, but fragrant essence.

He licks a stripe to your clothed core, making you moan out loud and bring your hand to latch onto his fluffy hair. You love to play with it and make it a mess of his hair after he’s done giving you the best head of your life.

“You taste really good too babe,” Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you, he was literally drunk off your pussy.

You were so desperate for him to take your panties off as you were starting to make more of a sticky mess in them but he seemed to be enjoying it more that way. He wanted to prolong the action of coming into contact with your bare pussy. He wanted to tease you so much until you were begging for him to touch your clit. You wanted nothing but his tongue against your wet folds right now.

“J-jungkook…” You mutter so lowly, he almost couldn’t hear you.

“Hmm, what’s my name baby?” He asks while still teasing your entrance, now sliding one of his fingers inside your floral panties.

“Jungkook!” You moan louder this time, feeling somewhat better that you’re almost getting to where you want to be.

“Want you to scream my name for hours, can you do that for me babydoll?” He asks in a serious tone, pushing his finger in and out of your soaked cunt.

You nod submissively, “o-okay daddy..” arching your back against the bed from the amazing feeling, Jungkook knows exactly how to use his fingers on you.

He kept fingering you harder and deeper until you look him in the eyes and visibly start to tear up from all the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s so good but so unbearable at the same time. He made you feel like you were in heaven, crying out his name, just saying “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook” on repeat whilst he’s finger fucking you. He’s scissoring your tight hole from the inside out and your juices were now running so far down your legs. You were super close to your orgasm and he could tell by the contorted face you were making.

“Jungkook… Jungkook.. fuck I’m gonna cum!” You scream for him, eyes rolling to the back of your head and your vision was going insanely blurry.

“Yeah baby that’s it, just relax…cum for daddy,” Jungkook coaxes you through it, encouraging you to reach your high but still adding slight pressure to your clit. You couldn’t take it anymore, just letting go and being in eternal bliss as you reached your climax. You moaned his name a couple more times and he called you his good girl for cumming when he told you to. You went back to making out and he was now massaging your boobs.

“You’re really horny today, huh?” You ask Jungkook, stifling a giggle at his overly naughty behavior.

“The real question should be when am I not horny whenever I’m with you y/n..” Jungkook shamelessly admits, grabbing your face once again to kiss you harder.

At least you can say you don’t have issues with satisfying your man in the bedroom !

[taegularities]

colour me in: seven | jjk (m)

Summary: At first, it's an argument that causes the unwanted, childish distance between Jungkook and you. And then… open blazers and a lip ring.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: est. rel.; fluff, smut ➳ warnings: an argument, cute couple-y things but also they're dorks n cringe sometimes, seven jk (incl the promo pics, laundromat hoodie bf koo, and drenched in the rain koo!!), fighting over food, they're a bit mean to each other, but they adore each other too, brief mention of a rough childhood, sexual tension, taeun being everything, kissing, dumb jokes, period and pms mention!!, a photoshoot!, subtle hints to the future of the main story :'); explicit sexual content: ahh.. making out, dirty talk, oral (f. & m. receiving), brief spanking, face-fcking, light choking, sweet and rough sex, dom jk, big dick jk, whipped simp jk, petnames, multiple orgasms, sex on the couch n on the floor? :'), he loves her a$$ and tiddies, multiple positions, cockwarming!!, mention of aftercare... the ending lol :D ➳ word count: 25k lmfaoo it's oneshot sized yall 😁 ➳ a/n: hi!! welcome back!! this is part of my series colour me in, but you can read it as a standalone-oneshot!! tysm for supporting me and encouraging me, guys, it means so so much. this is also unbeta'd, so pls go easy on me LOL. and since this was a piece of worrrrk.. come and talk to me about it, it makes my day fr fr <33 ➳ listen to: seven by jungkook | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

In hindsight, your argument was blissfully domestic after all. In hindsight, maybe even comedic.

You’ve seen these things on TV and read about them in novels; didn’t experience them growing up because your parents didn’t really fight over such harmless matters. They never needed to lift a finger in their ultramodern kitchen, filled with up-to-the-minute equipment to fill their table.

But Jungkook and you don’t rely on such luxuries. You do things for yourself. So, such a couple-y, casual life leads to couple-y, casual arguments. Requires it. Fighting is healthy; entangles two souls some more.

Which is exactly where you are now. Exactly what you’ve become: A true unit. Quarrelling over trivial, everyday things.

Just to end up folded in half, holding onto the very last of your sanity, biting back more inappropriate screams.

In regards of making up, you’re perhaps not that casual. Because he’s a relentless, brutal beast.

Wrecking you right where everything began.

Monday

The end of the day begins with a giant hole in the middle of your thoughts.

Your previously whirring brain tossed away all thoughts of advertisements and seasonal launches, vacant and dark until your senses shut down everything that wasn’t vital to survival.

Like the lights of the evening as your car passed the streetlamps. The tired faces on the pedestrian zone, the odd wrinkles in your skirt, or the scent wafting from the kitchen when you step out of your heels.

Your mind operates on reflexes and automatic movements; the ball of your palm rubs against your eyelid, realising too late that you’re probably smearing your eyeliner.

A sense of reality only truly returns when you hear a familiar voice call out your name, muffled through the walls between you.

You exit the bedroom with fingers scratching the nape of your neck, tiny steps floating over the floor and past the living room. On the coffee table, you register one or two dishes. Rice, too. Smells so good, but…

As you reach him in the kitchen, you halt at the threshold, eyes scurrying to the few pots and ladles in the sink. He’s diligent and fast; cleans up when dinner simmers. Minimal work left after the meal.

For a moment, you take in the cleanliness of the kitchen, and when your eyes move up to the man himself, you beam.

He’s wearing an apron – baby blue with little flowers and rainbows imprinted on it. His mom bequeathed him with one of her old ones, and he’s been boasting about it ever since.

You saw one with astronauts, moons and telescopes once; you might purchase it for him at some point, not least of all because it includes all the things the two of you love.

A tattooed hand pushes back his mane, messy and pointing in all directions the way it does after his showers. His fingers card through the fine tresses two more times before he turns towards you — an immediate smile, similar to yours, spreads across his face.

The tiny little dimples over the corners of his mouth distract you for a second until you see his hand at waist level, beckoning you into the kitchen and a greeting, sweet embrace.

Compared to the cold outside, his oversized, full-sleeve, white shirt offers a familiar warmth. He always smells the same, musky and fresh; not like cherry blossoms at all, but he reminds you of their softness.

Mixed with the scent of tonight’s meal, you inhale it all, wrapping your arms around him as your eyes close in exhaustion. If he wasn’t swaying you in his hold, you’d probably fall asleep, right there against his chest.

A kiss to your temple, and he asks, “Hungry?”

You’re not sure. You cuddle into the apron and whatever’s visible of his shirt, and mumble against him, “Not too much… to be honest, I was gonna shower and sleep.”

“Oh?” he wonders immediately, traces of disappointment in his voice. “But I made this for you.”

You smile again. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll eat, don’t you worry.” You take a deep breath, and then lift your head off his chest without letting go. “In all honesty. I saw the food outside and thought you had it delivered.”

“So you were gonna waste something you thought was restaurant food?”

You laugh. You’re sure you could see his rosy pout even if you weren’t looking straight at him.

“No. It just looks very good… I would’ve heated it up tomorrow. But since yours was a one-person-effort,” you pat his back in pride, watching as strands of his bangs fall back into his eyes, “we shall eat.”

“And it comes from the heart, too.”

“Right. It comes from the heart, too.”

You rub his back once, soon backing away. There isn’t much to do for you anymore, but you still grab a couple napkins, chopsticks and spoons as he carries some water into the living room.

The couch feels soft, true Heaven, when you sink into it. Your heartbeat slows down, your mind at ease; when you tilt your head, your neck cracks.

But clinking your glasses of water with someone who cherishes you enough to step back and forth in a kitchen for hours… It's a comfort that’s incredibly close to a peaceful night’s sleep.

And it’s worth the effort, too. Despite the conversation and your complaints about work, you can’t help but compliment dinner every other moment. Possibly another endearing habit you picked up from him.

But you slow down when fatigue returns bit by bit, your eye twitching when you feel a well-known tickling in it.

You’re careful of potential spices when you lift your thumb and rub your eye with the back of it, fighting the itch. For a moment, you stop chewing, and Jungkook only lifts his gaze to you when the movement against your eye continues, circling motions.

“Hey,” he says, grasping your wrist, pulling it down slowly, “that’s bad for the cornea.”

“Yeah, I mean. It’s not like my cornea's been nice to me, either.”

You resume chewing, swallowing the mushy remnants of the rice. Your attention falls back to the bowl of food, and your chopsticks aimlessly poke around for a second before he asks, “Why? You okay?”

“Mhm,” you say, nodding gently. “It’s just,” you point to your eyes, chopsticks dangerously close to your face, “that eye thing. It might be an infection or something. It’s so bad today that it’s hurting my head.”

You’ve complained about the issue a couple times — back when it was just an itch, you assumed it was the dusty town, perhaps even sleep deprivation. But the itch has transformed into a relentless pain, moving up your temples and across your forehead.

“Again, yeah?” Jungkook asks, following with a tender gesture of tucking your hair back. The pad of his thumb brushes over your eyebrow. “I’ll massage your head before we go to sleep.”

You sigh in relief, tired eyelids shutting briefly as you claim, “You’re the fucking best, you know?”

“Yeah.” He delivers a nonchalant, drama-esque shrug of his shoulder. Unmistakable smirk. “I guess I do know.”

The giggles from when you started dating still remain. You remember annoying the hell out of your friends back then, high school butterflies visible through your stomachs and in your bright grins.

Jungkook’s ears would redden, a smile even in your eyes. You can imagine how irritating the honeymoon phase felt to them — not that the two of you ever snapped out of it.

Even now, you’re drowning in it.

Well, until you’re not.

Because the moment he slings his arm around you, leaning back, his plate and bowl empty, you move forwards. Place your own dishes onto the table, cuddling further into him.

Only, he seems to interpret it differently.

“Aren’t you eating anymore?”

Not the message you intended to deliver. But perhaps… he’s not wrong after all.

Because…

While the evening ended on a gentle note, much needed, you’re done with today by now. Craving a warm bed, strong arms around you. A sweet, soft sleep.

And the meal is worth a thousand culinary stars, but your appetite keeps dwindling, and hadn’t he put so much effort and affection into all this, you would’ve probably headed straight to bed.

So you answer truthfully, “I can’t eat more…”

“Hmm.” He briefly points to your portion. “You just ate half of it.”

Brief silence. It must’ve gotten late, because among the quieter traffic on the main road afar, you hear a couple nightlife bugs chirping, too.

You look between the bowl and him slowly, blinking, unsure what to say. The arm around your shoulder doesn’t match his tone, so it feels a little awkward now.

You mutter, “I’m sorry.”

Because should you force yourself to scarf all of this down now, you probably won’t be able to sleep.

But Jungkook’s hums and insecure voice are making you feel bad — you know he doesn’t mean to. It’s the puppy-doe nature, a combination of forlorn, soft eyes and pouty words.

“Ah… It’ll go bad by tomorrow, but…” he starts, but you cut in—

“Fridge?”

An immediate shake of his head, a click of his tongue. “Not with that one. I mean, we could, but it’s gonna be all dry and unpalatable in the morning, y’know?”

You don’t fully have a right to be annoyed. Neither of you does. But the day’s been irksome, work a mess, paper sheets flying around — on top of that, you finished your blister pack of birth control last Friday.

The period, probably approaching tomorrow and meddling with your busy schedule, is already putting you in a sour mood.

So the current lack of a solution doesn’t help your drooping eyelids and still partly tumultuous mind.

You push yourself forward on the couch, sighing before you suggest, “Okay. Then I’ll eat.”

“Woah,” he immediately voices, dropping his arm. He attempts to pull the bowl out of your reach, but you grip it tight, swallowing a small bite of rice. “I’m not forcing you to.”

“Yeah, but still.”

Another sigh of frustration falls out of you, your full stomach crying, but you pull the bowl to you, another bite ready between your chopsticks. But a moment later, Jungkook pushes your hand down again, every rice corn falling back to its prior place, fortunately never leaving the bowl.

Unbelieving, you shoot an aghast glare at him, to which he responds, “Don’t force it. Seriously.”

A rice corn still sticks to your lower lip, and you pull it in with the tip of your tongue. You place the warm meal back onto the table, half turning to Jungkook, voicing an irritated, “Dude!”

“You don’t have to,” he assures, but he looks clearly offended. Looks away, rubs his thigh, eyeing every object on the table before he adds quieter than before, “You know… That’s happened a couple times in the last few weeks.”

“…What did?”

“I’d cook for you and you wouldn’t finish it.”

“Babe… The last few weeks have been tiring.”

“I know,” his voice grows higher at the end of the syllable, but then calms again after a sigh. “But we refrigerated a lot of stuff, some of which I shared with Joon or Tae the next day. Or threw away.”

“Nah.” The ridiculing smirk you respond with isn’t intentional. You drop it right away, but still shake your head in disbelief, defending, “You know I eat up most of the time, especially when you cook. Just today, I can’t do more than this, okay?”

He gulps. Two fingers scratch his ear, eyes once again skimming over empty plates or remnant-filled bowls. He drops his digits back to his thighs, rubbing once more, and then puffs out a breath between rounded lips before he comes to a stand.

And then, all he does is nod; shooting a simple, “Alright.”

His tone is stern. You recognise the expression — his eyes still big, but different now. Usually filled with warm sparkles, they look pissed now. Not because of his dropping lids or the missing crinkles.

Jungkook doesn’t need to move a lot of muscles to look angry; the lack of the glimmer is just enough. 

His lips are shut, not parted as they usually are when he focuses on something like his art or cooking or cleaning up. He’s exhaling and inhaling deeply through his nose, hands working on the dishes, but the fall and rise of his chest…

“You’re mad,” you conclude.

He looks back at you, the corners of his mouth never moving. His tone remains flat as he tries to convince you, “No. All good.”

Straightening his back, he attempts to walk away, hiding away in the kitchen until you’ve fallen asleep. He and you don’t argue too much — the little, couple-y, casual fights aren’t quite fights at all.

But they do end with a short distance until one is ready to approach the other and communicate again. A good strategy to cool your minds. You wouldn’t wanna discuss such a thing right away.

This time, however, you don’t want him to leave.

You pull him back again, holding onto the cotton shirt, and he protests with a loud call of your name and furrowed eyebrows as you insist, “No, you are mad.”

Your hand pushes against the couch, your body lifting, and you look him in the eye with a frustrated crease between your eyebrows. “Kook, I just am not capable of finishing it right now. You’re making a bigger deal out of it than you sho—”

“Yeah. Okay,” he interrupts, feigning acceptance and understanding, “it’s fine.” You scoff; sometimes, he’s truly as moody as you. “Things are different here, it’s fine.”

…What?

The sentence nearly comes out as a whisper as he finally starts walking away, and you only register it when he’s halfway out of the room. He balances the dishes in both hands, and you follow him to the kitchen.

Ask, “What’s different? Where’s here?”

“I work, too, you know? I get tired, too.”

“Jungkook,” you try again, slamming the hand against the counter; the sound’s muffled by a bright green cleaning cloth. “What are you talking about, things are different here?”

“Just.” He doesn’t seem to wanna talk. Carefully, he places the empty stuff in the wash basin, working on finding containers to dump the leftovers in them. “I get tired from working in the city, too, but I guess I grew up differently.”

…Huh.

You wait.

Let him collect his thoughts until he tells you, “In the countryside, you work for food, so you get used to finishing dinner. I know people around here rely on supermarkets, and honestly, I do, too,” his shoulders rise as he shovels the tofu dish into a box, “and I guess that’s why it makes sense why it’s easier for you to leave leftovers.”

Wow. Some statements in this world you live in are genuinely unfair.

You understood each of his words and lectures perfectly, but you still voice a little, “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not being serious.”

“Maybe.”

You blink. Then blink a couple times more. Observe as he closes the boxes and puts them in the fridge with a sigh. And you feel bad, you swear, you do. But that unnecessary turn of events…

“So what, you mean we don’t work for our food, right?” you counter, a hand on your waist. “We might do less physical labour, so that must mean we don’t appreciate what we get, yeah?”

Damn. And what if there’s more to that? What if—

“Or do you think it’s because I’ve always had enough money to not worry?”

Okay. Perhaps a long shot. He didn’t say it, but what if that’s exactly what his thought process was, too?

Your inner panic, invisible on the outside, grows when he doesn’t answer, lips firmly locked as if they didn’t just spew some crisp bullshit. You fold your arms, sucking air through your nose, and then demand, “Apologise.”

And when his eyes lift to yours, you freeze. God, they’re deadly. And his ingenuine laugh even more so as he throws back, “No, you apologise. Especially for assuming things I neither said nor thought of.”

“You were rude. I’m asking you nicely to take it back.”

“As nicely as I cooked for you. World’s in balance again, I guess!”

He throws his hands up, staring at you until he’s passed you by, eyes rolling. His nonchalant, idle movements rile you up more, and you can’t help but participate further in that odd exchange.

“You douchebag,” you call out, shutting the bedroom door as you reach inside, “I’m not a snob. I’d always finish my stuff, you can even ask the cook in my old house. He loved me because I wasn’t a picky eat—”

“Listen,” he interjects again, “I know. It's fine. I’ll sleep,” he points to the bed, “because this tired me out. Just drop it.”

“So you can drop it as you please?”

“Nah, just asking you to rest,” the first word comes out louder than he anticipated, his shrug vexed and vexing. He clears his throat. “And I’m sure you’re tired of this, too.”

You groan.

“And if I want to—”

“It’ll just escalat—”

“Dude, I—”

And once more, he showcases his annoyance when he glares at you from the other side of the bed, shutting you up, blanket already lifted. You anticipate another rude remark, a way of justification or to blurt something he doesn’t mean.

But despite his recent idiocy, you don’t deem him an asshole. Not to you, at least. Which proves right as he takes a breather, one knee hitting the mattress as he finally states—

“Let’s sleep over it, okay?”

The tone still isn’t as peaceful as it could be; you know it’s a tactic to dodge a fight. You might not be on your best domestic side tomorrow yet. But his question is final and his gaze even stricter.

So you reluctantly sigh, eyes still fiery as you breathe, “Fine.”

But it’s not fine. And the turbulent week ahead, filled with chaos for you and peak comedy to others, might just be about to prove it to you.

Tuesday

You chew on your bites until the taste turns bland.

Still distracted from last night’s exchange, you barely register the tart spicy quality of your dinner; a shame because this restaurant is your favourite place to frequent with friends.

Today, you’re toying with your cutlery, catching a glimpse of your grim reflection in the spoon every now and then. Whenever Jungkook’s elbow touches yours, your heart skips a bit, bleeding as much as your eyes want to water.

With how he’s smiling at your friends, appetite never faltering, you could burst into tears — because somewhere inside, you miss him despite the constant proximity.

Perhaps he does, too.

Because you notice when he drifts closer on purpose, casually putting his hand over yours. Seemingly lost in conversations, he rubs his thumb against the soft back of your hand; but when you look at him, you can’t muster a smile just yet.

It’s your ego, your stubbornness. Pieces of you want to stay pissed. You keep your cool, but try to avert your eyes whenever possible.

And when you, obstinate as last night, pull your hand from under his, you register the defeated sigh.

But instead of starting a new topic, he retracts his fingers, putting his arm on his table as he busies his other digits with his meal. When you dare a glance, the pretty curves of his blooming lips tug upwards, listening to Taehyung’s story.

Either hiding the discomfort between you or not feeling it.

Odd, because he’s your constant centre of attention.

“Yeah, I mean. Every job is stressful, you know? But it’s wholesome, too,” Taehyung narrates. You blink the silent pining away, and focus. “Like, one of my patients is an elderly man, a lot weaker than his wife. And she always comes with him, every single time.”

“She just waits for him the entire time?” Jungkook asks.

Next to Taehyung, Eun nods; she’s probably heard the story before.

“I mean, she entertains us, is more like it,” Taehyung explains. “He’s been getting geriatric physiotherapy to regain some strength, so he needs all the motivation he can get. And those two are such… dorks. They bicker all the time.”

You smile. Reminds you of when Jungkook and you first met. Persistent, pointless rivalry.

Perhaps Eun hasn’t heard all of this after all. Because as she cuts her dinner, she asks before stuffing her mouth with a bite, “How so?”

“Like. She’ll tell him to not be a baby and take that last step during gait training.”

From your right, Jungkook’s laugh reverberates like a melody from above, sickeningly sweet and amused. “Sounds like me and you at the gym, doesn’t it?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, flicking away stray hair with his forefinger, “Yeah, only because you can lift weights that’d break my arms.”

Another chuckle from the side. Even you smile a little.

Your man is strong, alright — and you’ve always admired it, experienced it a couple dozen times.

You’ve yet to see him work out at a proper gym; the home workout sessions barely count.

Ugh. The violent heartbeat beneath your chest picks up on pace again, and you take a deep breath to calm it just a little.

“Anyway,” Taehyung continues, “then she’ll tease him how the neighbour downstairs has much more flexible legs than he does and he’ll argue how she should’ve married him… and then she tells him that she would’ve if she didn’t love his old ass so much.”

When you giggle, covering your chewing mouth behind your hand, he adds, “I swear! It’s the most standard old couple banter if I’ve ever seen one. Thought that stuff only happens on TV.”

Eun, still busy with the remnants of her meal, doesn’t look up but asks, “So they joke around like that? They don’t get mad at each other or anything?”

“They act like they do. Not a sliver of jealousy or anger in them, though. Insane… and adorable. I guess when you’re married long enough, that’s how relationships turn out. And they should, too, you know?”

Hmm…

You side-eye Jungkook for just a moment, but don’t say anything.

You don’t know what’s written in your future. No clue whether he’s a permanent presence in it, a firm part of your fate or not; you strongly hope for an eternity.

You want to picture him and you grey and old. Wrinkled hands, adorned with blue veins holding each other. Weak smiles and crinkles around his eyes, hidden behind glasses, ever-present.

If he’s your future, you hope to laugh about such fights one day. Hope to let people wonder whether you’re actually furious with each other, veiling unbridled affection behind snarky remarks.

Just… right now, you can’t laugh about it just yet. You still feel oddly offended by his words last night, and it doesn’t help when tonight seems to drift towards a similar ending.

Because as you ask for the bill at the end, Jungkook still pays. You don’t think about it too hard, letting him do, staying seated to finish your drinks.

But your exhaustion reaches a new, entirely unnecessary peak when he starts cracking his fingers. On any other day, you’d put a hand over his, reminding him not to and move on.

Today, you’re in a bad mood, and your demands come out accordingly piqued.

“Stop it.”

“Hm?” he voices, looking at you, the warm light of the restaurant reflecting in his dark brown eyes.

“This,” you point to his fingers, “stop that.”

“Why?”

“Because you know it makes me cringe. A bit annoying.”

Eun, still unaware of the tension between him and you, shrugs her shoulders, “I know that irks a lot of people, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“Because you do it, too,” Taehyung complains; she mocks him with a sly smirk and a quiet, Yeah, yeah. He adds, “I can’t stand it, either.”

You lift an open palm towards him, nodding, “So you understand.”

“I’ve seen you do it, too,” Eun argues with a light push against his shoulder, “multiple times!”

“But not as often as you. You start and do not stop.”

You immediately agree, “He’s just like that, too!”

To which Jungkook interjects, his voice still calm; but you still hear the growing aggravation in his voice when he starts, “Honestly, I—”

“He actually has a couple habits that are just—”

You blow a raspberry.

Your interruption triggers Jungkook. And your words, admittedly not quite the sweetest, don’t sit well with him, either, because a moment later, he’s leaning forwards again. Looking at you directly before he continues his irritating bone-cracking.

You grit your teeth and repeat, “Stop that.”

“What?” he shoots back. You flinch. “A habit you despise so much, yeah? I don’t get the same intense reaction when I do something nice for you.”

So untrue.

Fucking hell. He’s talking about yesterday again.

You exhale through your nose, possibly resembling a bull ready to attack; Taehyung and Eun shrink in front of you, grimacing at each other. You’d laugh if it wasn’t you trapped in that exasperating back and forth of exchanges.

“Oops,” Eun whispers, yet overshadowed by your words as you defend, “That’s not true.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook says, shrugging a shoulder with an outrageous smirk, “but you never get that angry when I crack them at home.”

“I just don’t say it.”

“Oh? What else do you not say, hm?”

Taehyung dares an attempt, “Guys.”

But you’re too heated, a little stupid, very ridiculous as you spit, “Like, how irritating it is that you smack your lips every other second.”

Jungkook puffs out a breath. Looks to the side, straight into Eun’s direction who sinks a little more. He curls his lower lip in, running his tongue over it, jaw clenched and sharp. If you weren’t so focused on your temper, you’d find it scorching hot.

In a harmless little fight, you’d keep annoying him until he lost it eventually, mounting you and shutting you up in the very tempting Jungkook-esque way he knows.

But not here, not right now.

Instead, he fucks you up further as he sneers, “Right.”

“Or,” you continue, “that you don’t clean up your working space after painting.”

“What?” He furrows his thick eyebrows, ignoring Taehyung’s call of Jungkook’s name. “I mean. You have all your documents scattered on the desk. I might need it, too, y’know?”

“Why don’t you say it then?” you ask, tilting your head with one cocked eyebrow of yours.

“‘Cause I wanna let you work? ‘Cause it’s important for me that you’re able to focus?” He looks away again, tutting; his shoulder moves with his deriding laugh as he mumbles, “The fuck, really.”

Somewhere inside, you feel bad. You know his words are true. But you can’t tell him yet; so you just glare at him.

As silence finally falls upon you, Eun moves towards the table again, glancing between the two of you as she wonders, “What’s wrong with you guys?”

Everything.

“Nothing,” you say.

“…You wanna go?”

You wait. Jungkook doesn’t answer. Looks to the ground. When you don’t respond either, his eyes lift to yours, still big but not as enthusiastic as usual. Intimidating even.

You stay still, so he only voices, “Uh-huh.”

And the couple, enduring your awkward moment, lets you go gladly. You pack up, finishing your drink, and when you leave your table, you notice just how many people were staring at you.

Still are.

You really embarrassed yourself in front of a crowd, huh?

As the daughter of rich parents, owning a huge ass clothing brand, this isn’t something you should’ve done. But you pray and hope that you won’t wake up to a headline, or that journalists won’t interpret your little feud as a reason to break up or some nonsense like that.

Trouble in Heaven, they’d call it. Predictable little cockroaches.

You trudge past the customers with a deep breath in; Jungkook doesn’t seem to care much, because he walks ahead, hands in the pockets of his linen cotton slacks. Doesn’t look around.

Only bids Taehyung and Eun goodbye; tells you to buckle up when the two of you get in your car; curses once or twice when he misses the green light by a second.

And when you’re at home, sighing as the night approaches its end, you shake your head. Unbelievable whatever transpired back at that place. And you thought you were warming up to each other again.

Guess it’s your fault this time.

Which is why you hum when he calls your name, watching you put on your nightwear; bed ready while you still need to take off your makeup.

His question baffles you; more so with the slightly irate tone.

“Will you still give me a good night’s kiss or?”

You roll your eyes. Don’t say anything; grab your skincare products before you get to work.

He sighs once more; you see the shake of his head before you disappear into the bathroom, hear him say, “Whatever.”

But when you come out with a light rosy scent on your skin and jump under your blanket, you still shift towards his slowly drifting body. His arm under his head, eyes closed, lower lip pouting that you target carefully and—

Press the lightest kiss against.

Immediately, you turn around. Imitate his position.

He doesn’t reach out to you as he usually does, pulling you into his arms. But you still feel the petal-soft brush of tender fingers against your arm before the touch retracts again — and eventually, you fall asleep.

WEDNESDAY

The only reason Jungkook accompanied you to the laundromat is because your clothes gathered into a huge mountain. Neglecting your responsibilities at home, you brought two bags, and he insisted on helping you out.

It's late afternoon. Work tired you out, dinner is still pending; you don’t want to be here. And the place is empty; a yawning void. Just you, alone with your tank-top and grey-blue zip up hoodie clad, messy-haired boyfriend.

The retro plastic laundromat seats tired him out, so he’s standing at the far back. His eyes follow the tossing and turning of the clothes in the washing machine, and sometimes, they trail back to you.

And you — you’re sitting in a corner, arms folded, still uncertain whether you should wait for an apology or opt for one yourself.

The distance is childish. You’re way more mature than that.

But your fight is childish, too, and you guess sometimes, even healthy couples fall back into kindergarten routines.

Once the clothes are done and dry, the journey back home approaching, he helps you out. Tramps to you, mutters a little, “Gimme. I’ll take this.”

The bag strap drags his hoodie off his shoulder a little, revealing the flowery tattoo. He doesn’t fix it; lost in thoughts and silent until home. As if he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

In the apartment, he asks, “Dinner or takeout?”

And you, learning and indisputably craving his affection in any shape or form, answer, “We can make dinner.”

“I’ll do it. Get some rest.”

You sigh in relief. There’s solace in your gratitude — today was arduous, much like the preceding days of this week. You bide your time until he’s done, and then help him set the table and clean the kitchen.

The evening passes without any hostility, but ends without many gestures of fondness, too.

THURSDAY

“You don’t need to come, too. I bet you’ve other stuff to do.”

Jungkook adjusts to your steps. He snatched a jacket way too insufficient for the frosty weather, but he won’t hurry if you don’t. Doesn’t stray from your side.

So you walk faster. Then he does, too.

He rubs his nose, shrugs a shoulder and responds, “I’ve nothing much to do today, really.”

“Yeah, but,” you pull at the sleeves of his jacket, urging him to rush through the wind, “you’ll get bored. And I’m a big girl.”

“I know that. But it’ll be fine. Wanna make sure you’re okay, too.”

He nudges your elbow. You can’t pinpoint whether he’s daring an attempt to set things right or is genuinely concerned. Or both. In some way, the tension between you lingers, and you can’t shake off the awkward feeling just yet.

So you only nod, holding off an answer for a moment. Staring ahead, you listen to the soft sounds of the city, blinded by headlights soon passing you by. A bit longer and the first snow will fall.

The consoling feeling of winter days draws closer, feels warm despite the frigid wind. Hot chocolatesque. There’s just something about wool shawls and warm jackets and old, animated Christmas movies.

One thing you miss about living in your parents’ big, fancy house in your very old neighbourhood is the chimney. The soft yellow and orange of the crackling fire, melting the cold over your skin.

Sometimes you’d sit on the fleecy white carpet, protected by a thick, warm turtleneck sweater, watching the dancing flames.

You wonder again — if Jungkook and you are truly written in the stars as one, will you move into a bigger place one day? Save money and expand the comfort of the current apartment, investing in even more soothing walls with a couple little additions.

Not the lush, exaggerated luxury you grew up with. Not necessarily anything snobby.

But casual, domestic things, like a fire side you can sit in front of, drinking tea, slow dancing and giggling in the dark. Lit by the chimney fire; familiarity.

You sigh.

“It’s been long since I went to the dentist, too,” Jungkook then says, and you hum. That’s sudden.

“You should go then.”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes darting from your face to your hands. You unintentionally bury them in the pockets of your jacket the moment he reaches out for you; and when he understands that you didn’t notice, he curls his fingers into fists. “Maybe I can get an appointment now? Do they take walk-ins?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t know.” Then, upon realisation, you laugh a little and say, “I’m not going to the dentist.”

“What?”

“What?” You stare back with eyes as big as his. “Optometrist, Koo.”

His raised eyelids are nothing new. He’s attentive when it comes to you; recognises, notices and remembers every little thing. But you guess he truly has been tired, too.

And you feel bad for not considering it as much as he considered it. The reason he cooked for you in the first place, right?

You press your lips into a line, stare down to a puddle on the ground; an aftermath of the rain.

“Oh,” he makes, “why did I think we were going to— Sorry. My bad.”

In actuality, you did wonder if he knew. He didn’t ask questions when you told him you were leaving; simply announced he was going with. You were pulling socks over your ankles as his rushing form scurried across the room.

You guessed he’d figured it out. But the fact that he was ready to accompany you without a certain clue where you were heading makes you a little giddy.

Clearing your throat, you clarify, “No worries. It’s about that pain in my eyes. Remember?”

You wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t. Preceding your fight by perhaps a couple minutes, you don’t think the tiny statement still holds any relevance to him anymore.

Right?

Wrong.

“Yeah,” he answers, “yeah, of course. You thought it was an infection.”

“Mhm,” you hum, ignoring the butterfly wing slamming against your insides, “I’m so sure it’s an infection.” You click your tongue. “Itch first, and now it gives me migraines.”

“Yeah, you told me… But. It’s nothing serious, I just know.”

You look at his sculpted side profile.

You know him. Jungkook doesn’t actually know, of course — that’s not why he’s saying that he does.

But because hope is better than pure uncertainty; and he likes trying to manifest. He believes in little miracles like this. Knocks on wood a lot, tries not to voice potential disasters in case they might actually roll around.

So you take the reassurance. Walk to the clinic in silence. Attempt more small talk in the waiting room until they drench your corneas in those odd, blinding eye drops, dilating your pupils.

The brief, quick tests follow; the assistant is young and gentle, and you try your best to be a good patient. She seems to enjoy your temporarily formal behaviour, perfected in the years you grew to be a reputable heir.

You drop it once you’re in the waiting room again, awaiting the final consultation and results.

Jungkook is a restless companion. No matter how irritating, you’re used to the constant swaying and the movements of his legs. One might think he is anxious for you, eyes locking on the head doc’s office door every now and then.

Yet, he wonders, “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?” you repeat, breathing out a tiny, amused laugh. “Nah. He’s really nice. And it’s just some eye stuff.”

“Well, eyes are important.”

The words come out quickly, but the last syllable dies gradually.

You smile.

Jungkook sometimes reminisces about a time when he’d hide from relatives or eat lunch at the back of class back in elementary school. He tires out the term introvertness, and you repeatedly retort with a certain ambivertness.

At times, he’s loud, flirty, annoying and confident — gives you a hard time believing that he ever averted a girl’s gaze or hid behind his cousins.

But then… there are moments when you see it.

Like now.

The puffy cheeks, the youthful pout, the big, big eyes flashing to the ground. Unsure what to say, unsure what you’re thinking of him.

Until he gulps, keeping his voice quiet and low as he continues, “Have you ever had a private optometrist?”

Huh. Not a question you expected. You guess starting the week with a discussion about wealth makes him think of such things these days.

“Yeah,” you say, shifting in your seat. You can still not see him clearly; his features are blurry, and you squint. “When I was younger. Big, bright places and top notch equipment.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I mean… It's not like usually used equipment, like here, is any worse than theirs. Also, same reason as why I went to a public college. Normalcy, I guess.”

“Odd.”

“…Why?”

“Because,” he draws a sharp breath, staring ahead. “Despite all the normalcy, you’re as extraordinary as can get. Money or not.”

A heartbeat passes. Among the sounds of the quiet chatter around you and the ads in the TV at lowest volume, your breath mingles with the hushed noises like a whisper.

His slowly blinking eyes are genuine, your reflection in his dark brown orbs clear. White dots sparkle like constellations in the sky, bright and plenty. It’s nice that they remind you of the sentimentality in his heart after every single serious or dumb, big or small fight.

For a moment, you keep looking. Your fingers twitch, urging to reach out, but as they start moving off your knee, you hear a call of your name.

Jungkook leans back, clearing his throat, smiles at you as you get to your feet and meet the doctor’s stare, kindly gesturing inside the examination room.

A couple more tests, a friendly conversation, more orders from his side before he gives you a diagnosis and a prescription. 

And when you head out, Jungkook’s still sitting right where you left him. One leg restless again, leaning forwards, arms on his thighs and hands intertwined. His head is hanging between his shoulders; even from afar, you see his lashes move, eyes slowly blinking.

You can’t quite explain it, but you love this point of view — when you can see his parted lips, the lower one pillowy, partly hidden behind his button nose. Cheeks round. You truly do love this watching-from-above-angle.

Even though it clearly suggests he’s bored out of his mind. Beyond done with this place, but still here, waiting for you.

You clutch the strap of your bag again, sighing, and then move towards him with light steps. The back of your fingers reaches out then, brushing against his temple a tiny moment before he detects your shoes and looks up.

“Oh. That was fast,” he says; his eyes are drooping. He had a long morning in the attic. “What did he say?”

He gets off the seat, moving his stiff neck and cracking it a little, hand flashing up to his shoulder. You explain, “I need eye drops. Two to three times a day.”

“Ah. Then we could get them right now.”

You nod, allowing a little smile, telling him as you head out, “My eyes are okay, though. Somehow, my vision has improved, too.”

Jungkook’s lips form an excited Oh, but when he sees your expression, he says, “But you seem bummed about it.”

Ah. Well.

You feel ungrateful thinking that way, but…

“In some way?” you admit. “I’d rather have an infection that can be fixed with antibiotics and won’t come back so easily instead of… you know. Having to constantly rely on eye drops. It just sounds so permanent.”

Another deep sigh; you’re exhausted as well. “And I’ll have to remember to use them.”

“Hmm,” he voices, holding the door open for you. He zips his jacket close as you step out; an immediate breath cloud forming when he exhales. “Set an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah. Just knowing myself…”

“I’ll remind you then.”

The suggestion is immediate, albeit accompanied by a seemingly nonchalant shrug of his shoulder; jacket’s sleeves adorably pulled over his hands.

“Once in the morning. You set an alarm for lunch and then I remind you again when you take your birth control pill at night. Yeah?”

The bitter feeling of the fight vanishes a little; you try to ignore the residual awkwardness, apologies probably still due. But right now, your conversation follows a different path, so you settle on a soft, little, “Thank you, Kook.”

He always does that. Remind you of your meds.

Your vitamins, your pills, that one nose spray hydrating your nose flora to prevent your mucosa from drying out or whatever your ENT doc told you. He did last night, too.

He always does — even if it means forgetting about his own responsibilities.

You blink a couple times, rubbing your eyelids before you admit, “Still hurts. Can barely see… and the streetlamps are so bright?”

“Lemme look.”

He stops in his tracks and you follow; his hand catches your wrist, pulling your fingers away from your eyes, and you turn to him slowly. You’re still attempting to clear your vision, so he orders, “Stop blinking.”

And once you do, he moves in. Takes your face in his already warm hands, staring, squinting, humming. He looks focused, and you raise your eyebrows, waiting for a conclusion until he finally mutters, “Damn.”

“What?”

He seems impressed. Looks a bit longer. You repeat, “What? Are they red? Swollen or something?”

“Nah,” he lets your face go, already stepping back as if dodging your proximity. “But,” he starts; you stare like a puppy, only breaking when he adds, “they’re pretty as fuck.”

Your playful punch rises as if on instinct.

One part of your relationship that never changed was your bicker, starting with annoyance and morphing into frisky, flirty remarks. You consider it the foundation of what makes the two of you a unit.

You grit your teeth, but can’t bite back the smile.

“Dude,” you scold, and he covers his arm instinctively, evading the punch looming over him.

But you don’t deliver it after all, dropping your hand, shaking your head instead. You say, “If you hadn’t helped me survive today, I’d—”

You steer towards him, attempting another scare, and he plays along with a flinch just before he starts laughing again. Hums and nods emphasise his words when he agrees, “You survived like a true champ. A big girl, you said, right?”

“Sure am.”

“Mhm. …My big girl?”

“Gross. Shut up.”

The atmosphere will stay odd for a while. That’s okay, you guess. At least it allows for a bit of amusement, hard to hide as you smile a little, bite your lip.

You lower your head, veiling your beam behind your hair, but you know he sees. Matches your smile — perhaps even a bit brighter than your own.

FRIDAY

The fast approaching weekend usually eases a week’s tension. But considering the mounting workload you tackled today and the endless Saturday you’ll be dealing with very soon, your muscles don’t relax just yet.

Imprisoned behind the bars of work, your thoughts circle around the schedule for tomorrow. In that sense, you come home late and can’t quite bother with the stress that spread throughout the first half of the week.

Jungkook already scarfed down tonight’s dinner, comfortably laying in bed and balancing the laptop on his stomach. From the sound of it, he’s watching videos of various genres.

Sitting on the living room couch and indulging in a short story for just a bit, you hear the enthusiastic voices of chefs rattling down recipes every now and then. It’s a hobby of his, but you can’t help but feel bad.

He studies those YouTube videos to improve his cooking skills, and you, ungratefully, leave the rest of his effort in the goddamn fridge. You sigh.

If you had the energy and will to talk it out, you’d do it now. You couldn’t all day.

He was still asleep when you left, and after work, you went to a brief dinner with a coworker to dash through details for tomorrow. Looking at the plan, you hope for at least a sliver of fun amidst the photoshoot chaos.

When you returned home, Jungkook was gaming right where you’re sitting now. You showered, only to find him back in the bedroom, with his eyes glued to said laptop. And now, as you approach the bed to end the night, he walks past you with falling eyelids.

He rubs them with the back of his tattooed hand, a tired pout on his face contradicting the seemingly badass image that the ink usually gives him. Hard shell, soft core and all.

“Be right ba—,” Jungkook’s hazy voice informs, last syllable broken by a yawn. “Go to bed, okay?”

His palm moves across your upper arm as he passes you by, and you nod, steering towards the inviting, warm mattress. Its surface melts with your body when you drop. God, you’re exhausted; can barely think.

You don’t think it’ll take you particularly long to drift away; and just when your consciousness slips, you feel an arm around you.

A soft hug, enveloping you. He drops his face to yours, lips gently pressing against your cheek for a moment before he adjusts the blanket over the two of you.

A current of warmth courses through your veins, and you draw a deep, long breath of affection when he cuddles into you. He must be thinking you’re asleep but slowly falling out of dreams, because he pulls you in and rubs your arm.

An effective tactic he usually wields to help you fall asleep. 

He puts a leg gently over yours, his body so close to yours that you feel bits of the combustion of your heart.

Because…

Despite your stupid feud, you’re kind of happy that he’s joined you under the thin blanket, pressing more featherlight kisses against your scalp. Sighs against it.

And you can’t withhold the smile when he brushes over your clothed tummy and whispers, “My feisty little girl.” 

SATURDAY

You remember to unclench your jaw.

The stress hardens your muscles. Your limbs are stiff, eyes unblinking until they dry out. Fingers wrapped around your phone, you hold the device firmly, shutting out the telling vibrations of notifications.

This cannot be.

There are a hundred fires burning around you. Erupted chaos causes panic, and in the middle of it are you, clueless and vexed beyond measure.

It’s one thing cancelling a shoot a couple days before it takes place — and another thing to call sick at the very last moment. You didn’t think the model would ditch you like this… but now that he has, you can’t figure out how to replace the missing piece of the shoot.

Your troubled co-workers call out a dozen names, but you don’t say a word, gazing around with a crease between your eyebrows.

This whole thing needs to be out in the open by Friday, and the photographers and editors need time. So, postponing this to Monday and the release of the ads to another weekend won’t work, right?

No.

You’re at the headquarters of this brand. And you’re one of the organisers of this shoot and project. Every single shop will need to postpone if you do.

Unprofessional. Goes against the schedule.

The complaints are still on full blast when you see a calm movement from the corner of your eye. You move your head to the left, peeking through the glass door, and on the other side awaits—

A wide-eyed man, staring inside, observing the tumult like he’s stepped into the jungle. He’s wearing a white shirt, tucked into jeans, long bangs hanging into his eyes and enhancing the sweet gaze so wonderfully.

Pieces of your stress melts — but you still can’t figure out why he’s standing there.

You walk to the door automatically, throwing a tiny smile when he detects you among the staff. A big hand waves in tiny, and you open to let him in.

“Hey,” you greet, pushing back to where you stood before. He follows. “What are you doing here?”

As you come to a stand, he puts a hand on your waist lightly, drawing close to press a kiss to your temple. Then, he responds, “Picking you up?”

“Wh—”

Oh. Shit.

You were going to go out and celebrate the end of the stressful week. He’d suggested it last weekend because he already knew how hectic today would be.

Ughhhh.

You’re terrible.

Jungkook realises your forgetfulness the moment your expression changes into a guilty one. His curious, innocent look drops with his eyebrows, and he sighs when you say, “I’m sorry, Kook.”

When he stares down at his shoes, you feel a wave of shame; the noise around you fades for just a second as he half sullenly, half disappointedly asks, “Really?”

“I swear… It’s not my fault.”

It’s not an excuse; not a lie.

He looks disheartened; knowing him, stupid argument or not, he was probably looking forward to this. Fuck, you feel bad.

Despite his obvious drop in mood, he doesn’t say anything much. Instead, he nods and assures, “It’s fine. What happened?”

You look around again. From afar, you see a coworker approach. She looks hopeful and you take the crumbs, but you still explain, “Everything should be done by now. We got most of the pictures, but… one of the guys bailed on us.”

“Shit, really? What now?”

You shrug your shoulders, once again racking your brain for a solution. People here are counting on you, but it’s not you who brings the very first somewhat reasonable suggestion of today.

Only somewhat reasonable, though.

Because the coworker approaching ogles at Jungkook like a pirate at a treasure, pupils big and wondering as she suddenly says, “Hold. Did you come up with that?”

You blink.

Then ask, “What?”

“You called him here?”

“What?” you repeat, a confused, little parrott.

She rolls her eyes, “He,” she points at Jungkook with a thumb, “is not allowed in here. Usually. So I assumed you called him as a replacement.” She tilts her head. “And he’s freaking perfect!”

Per—

What? No, no, no. That’s absolutely nothing you planned or permitted.

“No?” Instinctively, you take a step to the side, right in front of his broad shoulders as if to protect him from harm. You argue, “He’s not a model. He’s an artist.”

From behind, you hear, “I’m just an artist.”

“Yeah, but,” she throws back, “you’re art, too. I won’t lie.”

Another step back until your back almost touches his chest. His fingertips graze your hip, as a warning before you stumble over his feet. You can imagine the subtle rosy dust on his cheek; he’s fond of compliments.

As everyone is, you suppose. But. 

“Hey, careful,” you tell her, disguising it as a joke, but feeling the lightest burn in your stomach when he laughs at her words.

She raises her pretty lips to a prettier smile, nodding in reassurance as she promises, “Yes, I know he’s taken.”

Another quiet chuckle from behind you, and you cock an eyebrow before he changes the topic and admits, “Seriously, I’m not a model at all and barely know what these things are like…”

To which she waves off his concerns and explains, “Oh, you just need to look good. We’d put some make up and clothes on you, a few pics and we’re done.”

Sounds easy enough. A bit like an insult to actual models, kind of putting those to shame who ran across stages for years to study, internalise and perfect their movements.

But you don’t correct her because you’re desperate, too. And right now, this sounds the easiest.

Still, he murmurs, “I’m not sure.”

“I understand if not,” she says. Her tone changes, fragments of frustration in it. “It’s just that we’re running out of options.”

Once more, you play out the upcoming week mentally. Postponing the last shoot. Postponing the release. Postponing the seasonal launch.

None of this is your fault, but you’d still be the one to get all the wary looks.

As if on cue, Jungkook squeezes your hip, and you look at him with worry painted across your face. You know he sees it immediately, but he still asks, “Is it that bad?”

You nibble at your lip, putting a hand over his as you say, “Yeah. We do need someone.”

“Is that allowed? Can I just replace a guy?”

“I’m technically the boss here, so you’d just need my permission,” you take a breath and then click your tongue, “I mean, usually we’d just reschedule, but we don’t have the time and those shoots already take hours. And in your case, we’d do all the paperwork, contract stuff later.”

“Would it help you?”

He’s considerate. Even in a stressful moment like this, the gentle tone, the deep care makes you weak. The answer’s already clear, but you still tell him, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Again, it… might take up to two hours or so.”

“But it’d help you, babe, wouldn’t it? Unless you don’t want me to. Then I won’t.”

You don’t have a single problem with this; in fact, you’d be happy to put him in front of a camera. His genuine thoughtfulness liquefies you — you’re a puddle at this point.

“Oh, I… Jungko—”

Juri intrudes, “I’m sorry,” carefully, she inches closer, nodding over her shoulder, “Just wanna say that we have a lot of designers in our team. They do logos and make the posters and all. Maybe, if they saw you — because the country already knows you as her artistic man from newspapers — they could teach you some digital art stuff.”

“I…” Jungkook starts. He’s probably thinking the same — which he confirms when he adds, “I’m not sure how me modelling for you might relate to artistic stuff. But I already know a lot about digital art.”

Yeah, exactly. Of course he does; what else did he wade through college for throughout these years?

“But,” she lifts a finger, infinite force in one word already, “have you ever tried expensive equipment and all?”

Oh oh. You feel bad.

Is that the group of society you represent? Maybe you guys are a little pretentious after all, dealing and seducing with money.

But he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t dare to challenge her when he steps next to you and says, “I can do it, but not for that digital art offer.” He puts a hand on your back, rubbing lightly and briefly, “For her.”

You fold your arms under your chest; less to show dominance, but more to press against the butterflies. There’s a type of nausea falling in love elicits, deep in your stomach where everything appears so surreal and beautiful that it makes you oddly sick.

The first time your pupils took on their heart shape was the first moment Jungkook practised that effect on you; made you realise what inevitable emotions he was pulling you into.

That effect has not faltered; your guts still twist.

At least, for a couple minutes.

Because the second your coworker-vultures attack him and drag him to the back room, something changes. Nervousness, you guess. You know the clothes that are awaiting him, but stepping out of makeup and into the spotlight leaves you gasping for air.

From afar, he’s leering at you.

Wearing a snow white shirt, tucked into his pants, priorly tousled hair still messy but styled in curls. Yes, you might know your collection — but you didn’t think it’d fit him like second skin.

Why did you doubt it, though? Jungkook could wear a trash bag and still compete against Adonis.

For a moment, he stands still, entangling his fingers, looking around. Then, he’s smiling in uncertainty, awkwardly putting his hands on his tiny waist, waiting for directions.

Juri tip-toes towards you, as if you’re filming a scene in a drama. She pulls the clipboard to her chest, one digit pointing to your struggling man before she says, “He’s adorable.”

You nod. “I wonder how he’ll do.”

“Well, yeah,” she murmurs, half distracted; but then she averts her eyes from him, looking from your nervous lips up to your furrowed eyebrows before she assures, “Worst case scenario, we’ll postpone. End of story. At least we tried.”

“Hmm… Well, let’s hope it won’t be that case.”

Which, you soon realise, it certainly isn’t.

A couple professional suggestions by the director and Jungkook gets into position. The initial movements of his hands and body are a little strange and awkward, and you can’t help but want to pull him from this chaos and wrap him in a fuzzy blanket.

But the seemingly feigned adorable stance soon shifts into something unexpectedly dangerous when he raises his chin. Thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he relaxes his body, lips suddenly forming a tempting, slight pout.

He doesn’t usually look like that…

“Wow,” you whisper, faintly registering Juri’s fascinated nod from the side.

This is still a harmless pose, you think; one the director dared him to do. But you’re surprised by the sudden confidence, the way Jungkook doesn’t fumble or stutter or question anything.

Some of his softness shines through the moment the photographer gives a thumbs up, a tattooed hand cracking the fingers of the others. Doe eyes back, he leans forwards as if he could peek at the pictures like that, asking cautiously, “That okay?”

He looks different. Why does he look different?

“That was great! Perfect start. I promise the rest is just as easy,” the team encourages him, asking him to monitor the pictures they just took.

Jungkook walks to the strangers in slow steps, chest behind the tight, white top heaving once. On his way, he looks up to you instinctively, throwing the same thumbs up at you with a questioning gaze.

And you, still baffled, smile.

Watch as he converses with the people, his grin wide when he likes what he sees — an instant confidence boost, though you still see the nervousness in his stance. Where was any of it when they clicked the photos?

As if a demon possessed him for just a minute. Dual and dangerous.

Then again, he’s not very different in your daily life. A celestial soul on some days, catering to your every whim, never letting your feet touch the ground.

And a beast on others, inhaling your sounds like a starving incubus, never heaving your body off the mattress.

The duality doesn’t disappear with this very first outfit.

When some music starts playing and they tell him to move freely, filming the sequences for the ads, your eyeballs nearly fall out of your eyes. And you finally realise why he looks so different now.

Because the moment his thumb touches his lower lip, mimicking a wiping motion (much like he does after kissing you sometimes), you see the silver-plated jewellery glimmering from all the way from the set.

Lip ring.

Whose idea…

“What did you do back there?” you ask, near-panicking, your heart dropping into your panties.

Juri flinches, asking, “What?”

“Is that a lip ring? You gave him a—”

You puff out a breath; it’s immensely difficult to be mad at him like this. He’s been looking…

“Shouldn’t we have?” her tiny voice asks; her body shrinks a little.

“I mean. I just. It wasn’t planned.”

“Yeah, but look how amazing he looks.”

You’re seeing it, alright.

The subtle touches, the light tugging at his shirt. Movements just right. He looks all serious, like a beast, hotter than motherfucking hell. Transports your saliva into your windpipe with each look he sports.

Until you actually feel yourself choking and gagging once he leaves and comes back for the next shoot twenty minutes later.

Because why on Earth did they omit the shirt under the grey blazer?

You’re close to dashing to costume and makeup, confronting them to ask why they chose to toy with your sanity like this. Because… the lip ring is still there. His hair is suddenly slicked back. Fingers adorned with rings.

And he looks so goddamn good.

Maybe it’s your fault. You told them you trusted them, and that they were supposed to do as they pleased. And they are… they so are.

All of him, like a strong magnet, pulls you in, but you keep your feet firmly on your spot, cementing yourself in place. There’s something incredibly attractive about the way he presents himself — new, talented.

You’re fidgety, a sexually frustrated observer when he touches his jacket, pulling it open just a little. The inked hand is veiny; you see it from here, too. The light gesture allows glimpses of his chest.

Small, perked, brown nipples. Lines and ripples of his abs firm. Ending in his V-line, hidden behind the peeking underwear and blue, baggy jeans.

Heavy chains are already menacing when he shuts his eyelids and parts his lips. Worse when he leans forwards, hazy eyes staring into the camera as if he’s about to devour the camerawoman.

Jeon Jungkook is a hazardous danger to society. The world will want him — and he’ll only want you.

Fuck.

You’re drooling. Drowning in your own puddle. Crossing your legs.

And when they tell him to sit, ordering to open the button of his jeans and push it down his hips just a bit, the little yous in your brain wreak havoc.

A fire starts in the organised office of your mind, red sirens blaring, and you look at Juri as you ask, “Why is he naked?! Why’s the blazer off his shoulder?!!”

“Because,” she defends, hiding behind the clipboard; it’s not her fault. That’s what the other model would’ve done, too. “Underwear ads!”

You’re aware. You just didn’t think it’d be Jungkook ending up in this position. Perhaps you didn’t think it through; didn’t know what it’d do to you.

But his effect pools in your lower stomach; so intense, you might cry.

“What the fuck,” you mumble when he takes the jacket off, sitting up and improvising all of a sudden. A hand covers his mouth, the blazer thrown over his shoulder. “What’s the point of holding it? He’s not even wearing it.”

“Because,” she starts again, “we’re focusing on the underwear.” Where’s the focus on the underwear? You can barely see it. Are people plotting against you? “It’s okay.” She pats your shoulder. “No one’s gonna touch him, love.”

You bite your lip. You know.

You aren’t distressed because you’re mad. But because knowing that everybody will crave him and nobody will get him turns you on more.

The fact that you’re the only one he’ll look at with those starry eyes; with the hunger in his gaze. The only one he’ll press into your bed, lips close to your ears, whispering endearments and filthy, little promises.

This man wants you, and you can barely handle that truth.

New thoughts and ideas form in your mind, too wild and desperate to be occurring right in this moment. So you mentally whoosh them away, holding on for the rest of the neverending shoot until a round of genuine applause sounds around the big set.

God. Okay. Hours of torture later, and he’s done.

A shy bow. No. This monster might convince anyone else, but you know he’s not as innocent as he gives himself.

He jogs over to you, says quietly enough for only you to hear, “Don’t tell them, but that was great.” You can imagine. He backs away, looks down to his defined abs, “I need to change. And then we can head home, they said.”

You blink, perplexed and still out of words. Which he struggles to interpret, looking over his shoulder and then back to you. Unsure, he adds, “Unless you need to wrap things up.”

When a random shout echoes through the room, you awake, inhaling deeply before you tell him, “No, I. I mean, yeah, we’ll wrap things up, but that shouldn’t take too long. Should be mostly done when you are.”

He nods. Waves, and then steers towards the others, shaking hands and exchanging smiles. Short convos. Then, to the back room. 

You’re too out of your mind and tired to chat much with staff. You go through the next steps, talk about waiting for the editor to be done with the photos, list the leftover things on your to-do list before the winter launch.

And that’s it. You meet Jungkook at the exit to the hallway, relieved when the end of the day approaches. On your way back home, you converse lightly, though he stops when you yawn one too many times.

He lets you rest as you pass shops and traffic lights, and holds your hand when you get off the vehicle. Drags you up the stairs; the climb is arduous. And then allows you to get ready for your slumber in peace.

The second the back of your head collides with the cold pillow, your eyes drop shut. The world spins behind your tired eyelids, adjusting to the darkness and the silence.

A sigh of relief pushes out of your mouth; a profound sense of tranquillity calms your lit nerves. Jungkook, next to you, seems just as exhausted because the yawn as soon as he slips under the covers is long and tear-inducing.

He’s blinking away the dampness of fatigue when you look over to him; you haven’t talked much since you arrived home, but Jungkook uses the moment to say, “I had a lot more fun than I expected to have.”

You’re so incredibly thankful for his last-minute rescue. But you can’t help but think of the muscles and expressions an hour prior. The seductive gaze, the lip accessory, the ring-clad fingers.

Perhaps it’s because of the time of the month, but you feel vexed by how affected you feel.

You control your tone, though the word still sounds monotone when you say, “Good.”

Catching upon it immediately, he shifts slowly, sniffling and head propping up on his hand before he asks, “Did you not like it?”

“Oh no, I mean,” you start, “you were amazing. I just didn’t know they’d send you out naked for the world to see. Thought the plan was to close a couple buttons.”

“The stylists told me. I think it was a spontaneous change because—”

You glance at him when he hesitates. A sly smile spreads across his features, just a little guilty yet amused as he watches your curiosity grow.

“What?” you ask.

“Nevermind.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“It’s nothing!” he exclaims. “We just thought it’d look cool. I thought you’d like it, too, actually.”

You did. That’s the issue. You liked it enough for it to burn into your mind, and now you can’t shake the image anymore.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him butt naked, buried inside you without a gap between your skin — something about his confidence and eyes stirred an unknown level of desire in you.

But you can’t tell him. Because the thing you want won’t be possible right now. You keep your thoughts veiled.

Instead, you unleash your annoyance because God, you hate him for being so hot.

“Right,” is all you say.

“Hey, don’t worry. Even if they ask, I’m not doing this again.”

“Might make you famous, though,” you mumble.

He snorts, fingers sneaking to your tummy, “So what? That’s not my profession. I didn’t study to become a model. Will work on my actual efforts.”

“Okay.”

The single word forces a sigh out of him, and he shakes his head, tapping his fingers against your stomach as he whispers your name thrice. Like he’s scolding you.

And then, “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you spit without hesitation, “of whom?”

You’re not. And you know that just for the moment, he won’t believe you. Which is fine. You’ll tell him the truth once your period’s over for the month.

“Of people who might see me and like what they see.”

Okay. Jerk.

At this point, he is doing it on purpose. You see it in the cocky smile and the jesting tone and the way his fingertips draw circles over your shirt, itching to sneak underneath the fabric.

You know him.

He’s so annoying.

“No,” you repeat.

“You sure? Huh?” Fuck, not that sulky voice. You close your eyes, but he raises your chin, making your head move. “Look at me, angel.”

“Hmm?”

“You said no, but you do look a little fiery,” he tells you. Yeah, if he knew that the real reason doesn’t lie in envy or whatever the world thinks of him. “What? My girl is jealous of people I won’t even perceive?”

No.

But she does feel the tickling, flattering lust pooling in her lower stomach, Jeon, thank you very much.

“Jungkook,” you start, although breathier when he moves closer, towards your neck. “Don’t be annoying.”

Which triggers a slightly mocking tone; he tuts before he says, “Baby bails on our date today. Will fight me in a restaurant. And then I’m annoying?”

Your answer is immediate and as shameless as can be.

“Yes.”

And it makes him laugh. Hot and sudden against your skin, his breath makes you shiver more than the relentless cold outside ever could.

“Not gonna lie,” he begins, “that brat behaviour isn’t too terrible.”

“Shut the fuck up, you just—”

He just what? You don’t know. Your sentence floats between you when his nose raises your chin, freeing the path to your neck before he’s nuzzling it slowly.

You feel goosebumps at the back of your neck, hair standing up, tingles across your body where you didn’t deem them possible. Under the blanket, your legs shift, and he hurries to move one of his between yours.

Hand still on your shirt, he places a barely-there, soft kiss to your neck; his fine tresses tickle your face and you crumble.

You have long forgotten your unfinished sentence, but he hasn’t. Asks, “What?”

You bury your nails into his arm, intrigued by the little hiss followed by a subtle laugh. Growing in volume when you say, “I kinda hate you right now.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, stretching the second word, “I hate you, too. Absolutely loathe you.”

You silence. Hold onto him when he French kisses between your neck and shoulder. And then breathe, “Then go away.”

“Mhh. Maybe I should.”

“Maybe…”

And then, out of the blue, his teeth dig into your neck like a gentle vampire, stopping immediately when you wince desperately. A hot tongue soothes the bite, a strong hand pushing you down by your shoulder again when your body lifts off the bed just a bit.

He keeps you in place, moving to your jaw. And when you whimper in lust and want, navigating his leg closer to your core, he curses, “Fucking hell, babe.”

Then, he’s inhaling, fingers wandering from your shoulder to your wrist as lips finally clash.

His body moves half onto yours, slowly gauging your reaction to the kiss as if he’s still expecting the burst of cumulated emotions. But when you give into his gesture, granting him your tongue, his face moves further against yours.

Undecided fingers let your wrist go, getting ahold of a patch of your hair. You hold his arms again until you wrap yours around him, fingers on the nape of his neck as you pull him in.

You tilt your heads in unison, deepening the kiss, drinking him up. Let him open your lips with his, keeping them like that, tips of your tongues playing with each other.

His touch drops to your waist and down to your pyjamas, pushing them down a little, grazing your panties. But then, his teasing palm floats up again and settles over one of your tits, squeezing once and drawing a telling moan out of you.

No bra.

He loves your little habits. You live through them casually, never noticing how badly they empty his mind.

Seems your head is blanking just as much at his touches; because you look delirious, lost, breathing in and out heavily. Jungkook basks in the expression, pushing a hand to your neck.

And only when he presses in gently, trapping you in place, do you seem to wake.

Eyes shoot open, and you inhale deeply, as if saved from drowning; remember every bit of today. The lines of his abs. The lip ring. The jewellery on his fingers.

You could ask for him to go on, to wreck you thoroughly. But of all arguments stopping you from doing so, there’s one damn reason that asks to prevent the mess.

Fucking period. Would create a literal bloody chaos. And you’re exhausted.

The thing is — if you asked him, you know he’d give it to you.

He’s reckless and careless. But you can’t risk the state of your sheets and the state of your mind. You have more work to do tomorrow; also, if you continued now, you’d be tired and immobile tomorrow, you know — and you need to be awake for this.

Fully in your senses.

Ugh. Fuck.

And the last damn day of the red waterfall, too. Thinking about it, perhaps that’s the reason for your agitation this week.

In hindsight, you know you’re never bitchy like that — he didn’t give you the nickname of an angel for nothing, right? Fuck PMS. Fuck mood swings.

Your poor boy, enduring the wrath of it.

But maybe you need to act pissed just a bit longer because—

“What?” he asks.

It’s not the time. So you stop him, pushing him away lightly. Shake your head, calling forth a crease between your eyebrows, turning away just a bit.

He falls back, once again keeping his upper body up by his arm. Inquires, “I— are you still mad?”

Truthfully, you answer flatly, “I’m on my period.”

“So?” he answers, laughing until he sees your lips, pressed into a serious line. “I’m not scared of some blood.”

You knew it. He’d give in if you told him to.

But what you want can’t be received during this time of the month. What you want requires unhinged chaos, carelessness, breathlessness. Craze of many minutes, hours.

You want more than a short, cautious session that asks you to peek at the sheets and the towel you’d get every now and then. You want to fucking lose yourself in hi—

“Let’s not,” you answer, your tone nonchalant, “Just. Let’s go to sleep, alright?”

He murmurs your name, trying again; but when you turn on your belly, giving a last sign to end the night, you hear him groan quietly.

You grimace when his head falls onto the pillow with an angry thump, movements under the blanket agitated as he scolds, “My God. Alright. You wanna be pissed for an entire week, then be pissed. I can’t do more than that.”

Oof.

If he only knew. And something in you tells you that he will very soon.

SUNDAY

Too lazy to work through the preparation process in the kitchen, Jungkook and you quietly decide to spend lunch outside.

The café nearby is a place you’ve wanted to visit for quite some time now. And despite the flaky, dry sandwiches they served, you’re glad time passed quickly, the awkward conversations between you coming to an end.

When you return from the bathroom, the sky above looks grey. Desolate. The weather forecast predicted a surprisingly pleasant late fall day, but the approaching rain is obvious. Which, you anticipated more than the weather forecast did, really.

That’s why an umbrella is leaning against the leg of the table, and you grab it as you watch Jungkook fumble with his wallet, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He gulps down the last sip of his Matcha Latte, dimples above the corner of his lips as he smacks the taste away. Then, he gets to his feet, asks, “Ready to go?”

Absent-mindedly, you nod, glancing to the sky and then back to him again. He looks sweet and domestic; but you can’t quite take him seriously. Not necessarily because of the fight anymore.

It’s been far too many days to still dwell.

But because of the damn lip ring, the open jacket, the gelled back hair. His destructive expressions. Like he could devour you whole.

Jungkook doesn’t stay angry for a long time, you’ve noticed. He always tells you how his temper used to be worse as a teenager, but how he’s learned to control himself.

Agonies of childhood, relationships and friendships taught him patience. And you notice. You truly notice.

Because he hands you your purse sweetly, immediately stretching his palm towards you. A slight smile spreads across his face, and you respond with a weak one of yours. Take his hand and let him lead you home.

You’ll walk the short distance; it shouldn’t take longer than seven or eight minutes.

And as you approach home, the hand holding yours mimics the motions of the one gripping the umbrella — he brings both arms into swing, somewhat euphoric but casual when he says, “The food was so dry there.”

It’s odd, talking to him like that after several days again. But you nod slowly, and agree, “I know. But at least we know where not to go anymore.”

“Yeah. But I mean, great beverages.”

“The milkshake, too.”

He tugs you a little closer, elbows soon touching, “I still think you should’ve gotten something warmer. You get a cold fast,” he looks up with squinted eyes, “and it’s already chilly today.”

You squeeze his hand as a thank you; Jungkook cares for you in little, subtle ways, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t think of it every now and then. You answer, “I feel fine, though.”

“Okay. Hope that stays.”

His palm, soft in yours, shifts until he’s intertwining his fingers with yours, attempting a stronger grip. You lift your eyes from the ground to his face for a second, meeting a gentle smile, and feel more pieces of your heart split.

They wander through your body, along your arm and straight into his chest, merging with his own organ. If you could, you’d push him against one of the unlit lamp posts, parted lips opting for his, breathing into his mouth.

He infested your thoughts and stuck with you, no way to escape the moment you first fell for him. And somehow, he managed to keep this effect intact, digging deeper into your mind and making himself home every damn second of the day.

The desire you’ve been feeling doesn’t just stem from lip rings and talent behind the camera. But you also keep realising that you’re truly this man’s, and that this man is truly yours.

A hard truth to fathom when you’re the subject of interest to one unique Jeon Jungkook.

But you want all of him. Want him over you, around you, taking all of what no other guy will ever be allowed to touch. Want him to show you once again where you belong and that you’re in this for as long as his affection is aligned with yours.

Fuck. Home is too far away.

So you look away from him. Which he interprets in an entirely wrong way.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, an inquiry out of nowhere that has your eyebrows kissing.

“No,” you answer.

“You barely talk to me. And,” he halts to wipe away a raindrop. Guess the clouds are gathering. “And I miss you.”

Your ribs might break. He keeps doing this to you.

“I’m not mad, Kook. Was just PMS-ing before,” you try again, adding a nickname for good measure.

“You sure?”

Jungkook is a free-spirited soul, careless to a healthy degree most of the time. There are only a few things that break his composure; familial insecurities, shitty pasts — and then there’s you.

Topping his list of priorities, you’re the only aspect in his current life that pushes him into spirals of overthinking.

And right now, he’s in the middle one, requiring a thousand reassurances. You want to answer. You really do.

But the distraction from above proves too strong the second you open your mouth. In the middle of your walk, the clouds explode, roaring for a moment before a downpour suddenly showers onto you.

The raindrops are thick, the bursting clouds aggressive.

Instinctively, Jungkook opens the umbrella, hastily working on it, and once under it, your steps pick up on pace. You wrap an arm around your body, closing the jacket, hooking your other arm with his and pushing the two of you forward.

“Shit,” you say; you look up, but can barely see anything. Only hear the thunder.

The wind grows colder, grazing the skin of your face incessantly. Despite the umbrella, the merciless rain wets your cheeks, singular drops flying towards you. Jungkook’s hair covers his face, and he shakes them off his eyes.

You gasp when a literal newspaper flies past you.

“Come on,” you encourage, already shivering. “We can talk about it at home, okay?”

But surprisingly, incredibly lost in his own head, he doesn’t give in. He adjusts to your pace, holding the umbrella in a strong grip, sighs and argues, “We can talk about it anytime.”

“Not now.”

“But—”

“Kook, right now’s not the time for this.”

Holy shit.

This man is a phenomenon. And you wish he wasn’t serious, but you know that he is. A full-on simp-y fool, no matter what.

“You’ve avoided me all week,” he yells over the sounds of the rain, sniffling, looking at the storm ahead, “we won’t die. It’s just rain.”

“It’s a thunderstorm, you idiot!” you exclaim back, moving straight forward and past running passengers. You should be home soon. “And in a minute we won’t be able to see shit.”

Jungkook must be made of cement. Broad shoulders, a well-trained body and willpower seem to combat the storm when he suddenly halts in his steps.

Immediately, you grab the umbrella, keeping it from nearly flying away; and when you remain the only presence under it, you ogle back. Watch him stand there in his red-white jacket, getting soaked by Mother Nature.

What the fuck.

You rush back, grabbing his wrist, pulling him forward as much as you can as you reprimand, “What the hell are you doing? Come on.”

“You’ll talk to me if I do?”

“Jungkook, we’ll die here, I—”

You flinch and gasp when another strong wind blows, once and for all ripping the umbrella off your hand and making it fly a couple feet from you. You watch it break through the fog of rain, mouth wide open with a dozen curses on your tongue.

“Fuck,” you exclaim, gritting your teeth, “I will. Just please, okay?!”

He’s so annoying. The way he looks at you, breathing hard, white shirt drenched and sticking to his body. You tug at his arm, forcing him to run when you do.

It takes you two entire minutes, wordless as you wish them to be, to reach his street and apartment. You tremble in the hallways, rushing up the stairs, and eventually take a seconds-long breath when you step into the flat.

It’s cold. So cold — and you had your jacket protecting your shirt. Your jeans and hair are soaked, your socks a sponge, soaked in a couple millilitres of water.

But it’s relieving when you take the jacket and your jeans off, pulling out the oversized, wrinkled shirt from under your pants, covering half your thighs. Jungkook slips out of his boots and rushes for a towel, approaching your heaving form at the door to dry your hair.

You quiver for a couple more minutes, fearing an approaching cold after all. But once settled on the couch, indulging in the comfort of thick joggers and a fresh cotton shirt, you sigh.

The silence still holding on only breaks when you drop your head back on the couch. A warm hand sneaks to your cheek, and when you open your eyes, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Warming up…” You lean into the touch, though still irritated by his behaviour before. “Thought it’d rain, but that was a surprise.”

“Yeah.” A pause. And then, “Was a little romantic, too.”

Unbelievable.

You roll your eyes at him, head tilting, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Perhaps he’s joking. The goofy smile suggests that he is.

“Was it, yeah? You just—”

You click your tongue. Think back to him nearly offering his soul to Zeus just a couple minutes ago. Standing in the heavy rain as if he was the lead character in The Notebook.

“Don’t be mad now. I’m kidding,” he says. His voice isn’t as soft anymore; frustrated when he tries again, “Talk to me. What’s the problem?”

“Seriously? I told you there’s nothing.”

“Nah, cut that bullshit. You haven’t talked to me or properly touched me all week. I’m trying my fucking best.”

“I know. This isn’t what it’s about,” you defend, shaking your head, getting to your feet, “but about that insane little stunt out there.”

And the fact that he’s been driving you crazy. The week’s distress mixed with whatever he made you feel yesterday; today’s insanity further adding to it.

When he doesn’t speak, you sigh, waving it off, and opt to walk away. But all in vain.

You make it two steps away from the couch before he flashes up, too; filmesque, you gasp at the strong grip around your elbow, getting a tiny second to process the situation before he’s twirled you around.

He probably didn’t intend it, but you nearly clash against him, stupidly losing your balance and stumbling over his and your own feet. You put a hand to your temples, fearing the worst — what if you fall and clash against the corner of your glass table?

But no. In slow motion, he keeps you in his firm hold, preventing the fall, but still letting you gently drop onto the fluffy, white carpet. Your investment. You’re happy about it now because it caught you the way the wooden floor wouldn’t.

Your movements towards the grounds are slow — or at least that’s what they feel like. But when he appears above you, pinning your wrists to the carpet hard, he’s breathless; and you think that maybe the fall didn’t happen as slowly after all.

“Okay,” he says through gritted teeth. From down here, his jaw looks as sharp as a ship’s deck, the Adam’s apple bobbing when he challenges, “You’re gonna fucking tell me what’s going on.”

Oh. He’s mad.

His eyes are burning, jaw flexed. Defined chest rising in anger.

There’s nothing going on. At least nothing that warrants another fight.

But you don’t tell him that just yet. Instead, all your perplexed mind and tongue manage is, “What?”

“I forgave you. We were both shitty that day, you know? But I still did forgive you, and you’re still being like that.” His knuckles must be paling, because his grip is iron hard. “Why?”

“I—”

“I’ll apologise if that’s what you want. I did, actually. I’m sorry, okay? There. But this is just,” fingers squeeze your wrists, and you hiss, “ridiculous.”

Your following grimace, lips twitching, eyes squinting, go through to him immediately. The hold doesn’t hurt or bother you too much, but the leg between your knees does. Jungkook wouldn’t wound you; he knows his limits.

But perhaps he thinks he’s going overboard when he loosens his fingers, pressing his palms against your skin, rubbing to soothe the missing pain.

He doesn’t quite move away, though, still stubborn when you assure once again, “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“So you keep saying.”

“I’m not,” you tell him, heart racing at the proximity. You close your legs around his knee, irritated by the barrier. “I promise.”

He doesn’t give your gesture much attention just yet; doesn’t know that his body over yours is exactly what you’ve been craving. But he does understand the sincerity in your voice. Finally.

When he moves closer, pupils melting to fluid gems, you let out an intentional, teeny tiny moan that you’re sure he confuses for a relieved sigh. He moves his palms onto the carpet, caging you in; you keep your wrists where they are, but dig your nails into your skin.

You want to kiss him so badly. You miss him so much.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, angel,” he demands again, quieter and softer this time.

“I don’t know.”

With the fury evaporating bit by bit, his eyes look bigger and rounder again. The desperation of the week gathers in them and his expression, shooting all the way down to his tongue; and when he whispers to you next, your heart collapses, “Please?”

He’s sweet… so utterly oblivious to your true thoughts.

But you couldn’t feel more embarrassed about the pictures you’ve been painting and the words ghosting in that mind of yours. He’d do all of it, no questions asked. But… fuck.

“This is so dumb,” you answer, fingertips dragging down the carpet and then up to his waist, “like… you’ll laugh.”

The touch encourages him. His arms are shaking now, holding him up in this position for too long, and the wandering fingers along his sides and chest must weaken him like his lines affect you.

“That’s a good thing,” he answers, closer than ever when he balances his weight on his arms now, forearms touching the carpet. “I’d rather laugh than fight.”

But the closeness remains for mere seconds before he pulls back again, sitting up with a groan. Hands on his thighs, he lets himself fall on bended knees. He watches your still helpless body on the floor until you work on getting off the carpet, letting him pull you up when he offers a hand.

You ruffle through your hair, legs folding. Your pout is more directed towards yourself than anyone else; you totally realise you didn’t need to confuse him the way you did. Stupid period.

“Listen, I just…” you start, scraping your scalp.

His knees bump against your legs when he drifts closer; there’s something about the two of you sitting on your living room carpet like this.

“It’s just that I want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

And that’s it. That’s literally it.

He halts. His hand was moving up, probably to touch your face, your hair, anything soft to ease the mood. But he cancels the tender gesture, fingers falling back to his knee when he absorbs your words.

Silences with cocked eyebrows. Processes the way you lick your lips and look away, tugging at his wide shirt. And then, once he’s understood, he tsks. Chuckles.

And you, immediately on guard, push lightly against his shoulder, unsurprised when he doesn’t buckle, and defend, “Told you you’d laugh!”

“No, but,” he says, sweet crinkles around his eyes, head tilting and bunny teeth giving way to the prettiest smile in existence, “what are you talking about, hm?”

He knows. If only his feigned innocence was as sweet as his grin, too.

Still, you opt to clarify, “That thing you did yesterday.”

“What thing?”

Ugh.

“The whole modelling thing!” you exclaim, raising your hands. His beam reaches up to his eyes; his occasional giggles are killing you. “Stop. Do you have any clue what you looked like?”

He has the audacity to shrug. “They let me see the pics on their cameras. They’ll come out well.”

“Well? Dude, you looked…”

“What?”

“Dangerous. Like you could eat me up.”

Eat me up might be accurate. It’s the description floating through your little mind since yesterday.

“Ah,” he says, nodding smugly. You know he’s about to tease you. Because— “You specifically, yeah? I was just doing what they told me to.”

“What, is me specifically wrong? Anyone else you’d wanna eat up or—”

“You’re really fixating on that, huh?” Jungkook snickers. His tongue pokes the inside of his right cheek in a brief pause, and then he adds, “You’ve got a point. Didn’t think it’d affect you, though.”

Slowly, but surely, he seems to grasp his own power over you. You think he’s reminiscing about yesterday’s chaos and confidence; maybe even viewing it all from your point of view.

Because his smirk, albeit subtle, is sly when he asks, “What was it like?”

“I…” You click your tongue. “You’ll take me apart if I tell you.”

“Why so?”

“Because.” A beat of silence. You swallow to wet your throat. Then. “I’d ask you to.”

“Ah…” Another understanding nod, as though you’re lecturing him on NASA’s rocket science and he’s finally grasping its meaning. “Yeah?”

“I saw you from afar,” you point into a direction arbitrarily, as if he’s still several feet from you and not mere inches, “and I wanted to,” you inhale when a finger reaches out, straight to a vein in your neck, gentle, exploring, “let you do anything with me that you wanted to.”

“Ohh.” His palm covers your neck, as if he’s coddling you. But you know what that touch will morph into, so you sneak closer to him, lean forwards. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“…Right.”

His thumb moves up and rubs under your jaw, then up your face and to your lower lip. The touch is soft and careful, as though gauging your reaction and searching for permission.

Your shaky, little exhale is nearly unnoticeable, but you know he catches it, and you know he already sees the consent in your eyes. But he still doesn’t lean in. Moves his eyes across your face, to his hand, to your neck and then all the way back to your gaze.

And then, contrasting the loving movements and affectionate gesture, he smiles. Mischief spreads in his stare, and his fingers retreat to the back of your neck, pulling you closer by a miniscule inch.

“So that’s what it was all this time? You’re on your knees for me, is that it?”

“Babe…” You look down, daring a joke. “Quite literally.”

You shuffle in your spot when he laughs quietly, hooking your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. You emphasise, “I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”

You’re aware you’re acting as though he doesn’t wreck your shit every other time, too. In fact, that’s probably how the two of you started out.

His absolute craze at the frat party, drunk. College nights when you’d confront him about your bullshit — weak excuses to make him press you against his dorm walls. A hand clapped over your mouth, your ass out, dick buried inside until you felt him in your guts—

You’ve always been at his mercy — but you want him to split you in half this time.

“You would’ve?” he repeats. “And now? Still want that?”

You look down again. There’s no shyness in that movement, no averting his beastly eyes — your focus lies elsewhere because you have a theory. Which proves true.

The swelling under his joggers, right there between his legs wasn’t there before.

So you gather your voice, and say, “…Yes.”

“Hmm. Why didn’t you tell me?” His fingernails dig lightly into your skin, and right in the middle of the tension, he pouts for a little moment. “I genuinely thought you were still pissed.”

“I was on my period…” You shrug your shoulders. “It was also late. I was so tired, and—”

He waits.

“I knew that you’d do it if I asked for it.”

“I would’ve.” What’s worse? The confirmation or the tickling breath against your cheek? When did he get so close? “I still would. If you want me to.”

“I just said yes,” you tug at the shirt, eliciting an amused grin as the tips of your noses collide, “you’ll keep asking and,” your heart beats at a million miles a minute, “just not kiss me, is that it?”

Your provocation proves effective just the right amount.

Because he opens his mouth, seemingly snarling — you can’t tell for sure, since his lips clash against yours within half a moment. Determined as his hand immediately flashes to the small of your back, supporting you before you fall backwards on the carpet.

And then he kisses you like a man starved. Like he’s run out of saliva, dehydrated. Seeks your tongue, tastes like earthy Matcha Latte and something you can’t quite define — something that’s so uniquely him.

Your kiss muffles his tiny sound, a mixture of a sigh and a moan, body impatient as he tries to push closer to you, though separated by your clashing knees. You understand — you, too, would let him smother you under his weight if you could.

So you pull your folded legs apart, shifting until they surround him and attempting to straddle him. But he’s plotting something else: his fingers hold your jaw, keeping you in place, and the hot, wet kiss breaks when he pulls away.

You catch a brief glimpse of glistening lips before he moves to trail down your body, leaning in to teeth at your shirt, pushing it off your shoulder and kissing your skin for a fleeting second. And when the shirt shifts back into position, his other hand works on your tits.

Grabs your shirt at its hem, lifting it over your mounds until they’re free, nipples perked, home to him. In a haze, the tip of his tongue touches the right nub, and you shiver.

More so when he whispers, “Am so hard for you, I’ll fucking combust.”

For you.

You’ll repent for how badly you want him in your mouth.

You caress his thigh, sneaking up until you reach the swelling under the fabric. You feel it immediately, firm as a rock, big and fat, so sensitive that he hisses once you touch it.

“No,” he commands, the word barely a breath, “no, no. Don’t or I’ll come like this.”

He says it against your neck. Warm and tickling. You feel goosebumps arise, your reactions slow, but your heart fast. His fingers engulf your wrist, leading your palm to his cheek; you feel the smileless dimple under your thumb when he darts out his tongue to wet his lips.

Then, you close your eyes; the pecks against your neck are exhilarating. The moving touch, down to your tits and then back up to your jaw is one of his favourite games; you move your hips against the carpet, soaked panties sticking against your pussy.

“You’re…” you start, fingers in his fluffy hair as he bites your nipple. You moan, your words shaky, “You’re— more into this today.”

“I mean… after everything you just said to me?” He chuckles, moving up, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth brushes yours.

“And I missed her.” Free hand between your thighs, he taps just over your clit; your lips part. “Too crude to say I can’t wait for her to swallow my cock?”

Well. Fuck.

If it wasn’t him, you’d cringe. But it is him, and the truth is that you’re dying for him to press himself onto you. To wrap himself around you, to wrap yourself around him.

You want him to cut you in half, want to be his little toy until you can barely stand.

“Maybe,” you tell him, “but I promise that she wants it, too.”

That’s it, that’s it.

It’s when teeth meet again, the kiss messy, your arms around his neck. He holds you by your waist, pulling you off the floor a little, readjusting his position, so you can climb onto him.

You tilt your head as far as you can, taking him in, drooling, lips and tongue moving wildly to taste all of him. His digits wander from your back to your ass, pushing between your cheeks and pressing against your clenching hole.

The gesture is short lived, but enough for you to rub against him. The urge to rip your panties and part your folds over his girth is profuse; to dampen his length and empty his balls just like this.

But he clenches his jaw, groaning. Halts your movement with a strong grip before pulling at your hair without breaking the kiss. You move your fingers up and down his arm, and then dash it upwards to bury them in his locks, too.

Only, instead of reaching his mane, your hand hits the glass table on your left; you grunt into the kiss and then move away to exclaim, “Ah, fuck.”

Jungkook must’ve heard the sound because he catches on right away, laughing. Gently, he pushes you off his lap, gets back on his knees and then up. He pulls you with him as he says, “Alright. Get on the couch before you hurt yourself.”

“Couch?”

You’re surprised; not the bed this time, is it?

Then again — Jungkook isn’t necessarily picky when it comes to this; cue flashback to bathroom adventures.

So you still listen. Wobbly legs drag you to the sofa, plumping onto it as you watch him follow. The bulge is huge, hotter than hellfire when he palms it and lets go again.

“Too damn lazy to get to the bedroom,” he declares before dropping back on his knees.

You thought he’d climb over you, push you back across the length of the couch. But instead, he seems satisfied with your helpless position, pushing back the carpet and table some to take a seat right in front of you.

You admire his patience — the outline of his cock presses against its confines. Does it not hurt? His expression doesn’t reveal any discomfort as he adjusts against the hard floor; the carpet barely provides any relief.

But the discomfort doesn’t redirect his focus, his touch heading towards you, urging you to remove your joggers at turtle’s pace. He throws them over his shoulder and onto the table, one leg of them dangling off of it.

Left in your panties, you watch his hands curl under your knees, freeing his way to where you want to ache. Lifts your legs, places them on his shoulders carefully, amused and delighted when your bent limbs drag him closer to your cunt.

His tenacious tongue peeks between his teeth, and he fondles your thighs before he reaches the hem of your panties. They bug him — separate your heat from his mouth; in this moment, a crime to him.

“Help me here real quick,” he whispers, and you raise your ass, letting him drag the underwear off of you.

It sticks to your pussy for a second, obscenely flooded with your gradually building arousal. You think he sees, because he halts for a second, eyes flitting up to you before he says, “I think this’ll be fun.”

“You promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Well…

You shrug your shoulders, but smile tellingly, eliciting a smirk that decorates his gorgeous face, closing in bit by bit. The cool air evaporates the nearer he draws, replaced by his hot breath.

And then… just to test…

He darts out his tongue, the sharp tip of it tickling your clit. Your reaction, much desired, stirs a new type of appetite in him. Because your chin trembles just once, just for a moment. Lashes flutter, and his heart skips a beat.

As he inhales, but never exhales, you question, “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures, blowing against your sex, “just. So very pretty.”

You look down at him. His shoulders look broader from here. Muscular, hair dark and silky. His lips are colourful, handsome, nose ready to bury in your pelvis. If he thinks you’re pretty, then he’s the definition of true aesthetic.

Slowly, you reach for his hair, brushing through it before you bring his head closer to you, hinting at the obvious, and say, “And you.”

“Not like you, though…”

He waits, allowing the both of you a moment of preparation.

And then… he’s kissing your pussy. Lightly at first, up and down, a hand on your inner thigh that moves closer and closer to your folds.

He sighs once before a digit parts your nether lips sticking together, and then licks a stripe between them. You whine quietly; his eyes close. He’s beautiful like this; in a minute, he’ll look at you again, mouth swollen, and you’ll wish for his touch to last and last and last…

“Please,” you only whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Instead, his sweet kisses turn into something more. Way more wetness, way more tongue. And before you know it, he’s splitting your legs wider, pushing in to start devouring you.

Your moans are intoxicating. They’re sudden, but not surprising, voiced against the ceiling when your head falls back. The heels of your feet dig into his back, pushing him closer when his knees are already touching the couch.

The movements of his mouth are warm, a waterfall. He eats you out until he’s slurping, drenching you further. He’ll slide in effortlessly, you already know. Will bury every single inch of himself inside you, fill you up for the rest of the day.

And your high — it builds up embarrassingly fast. Perhaps because it’s been a while; or maybe because it’s Jeon Jungkook you’re dealing with. Either way, your lower stomach aches, the knot pressing against your guts.

“Kookie,” you murmur, yet again left without an answer.

He knows not to break his focus this time; knows that you’re close, recognises it in your grip around the patch of his hair. Hears it in your desperate whimpers, louder by the second. Words more unintelligible now.

Your thigh is twitching every now and then, quivering, and he takes it as a sign to keep sucking and swirling. Then flicks his wet muscle over your engorged clit, adding to your exclaims when his nimble fingers glide into you swiftly.

Too swiftly. Two of them are barely enough; and he adds a third. Your cheeks heat up, body sliding down — partly because you’re dying inside, partly because he’s pulling you towards him.

Jungkook knows how to navigate your body, how to direct you towards a rationality-breaking explosion. And he does. He does with the plethora of lustful licks, softly circling around your clit. His nose presses against it every time he shifts downwards, tasting you thoroughly.

“I’m almost—” you voice, and he hums, vibrations torture.

It’s a game to him that he’s skilled at; he understands his moves, and he never loses. Neither today as he clamps his hand onto your waist, fingers pumping in and out of you, curling and digging, massaging your favourite spot.

They turn and twist, two fingers of his free hand settling around your clit and raising it for better access.

It takes probably half a minute longer… and then… then…

Your voice grows in pitch, nearly illegal for a Sunday afternoon, but music to his ears. So genuine and sweet. Corners of your eyes glistening. He holds your legs apart as you start begging, but all he truly makes out is the eager repetition of his name.

He wishes your shirt didn’t cover your upper body; wishes he could see the heaving of your chest, the perked nipples, the sweat on your clavicles.

But for now, this is enough.

The way he sees waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes rolled back, not looking at him anymore. Your lips are dry, your tongue probably, too, and he wants to kiss it wet again.

You moan and wince and keen, body restless. The tug of his hair becomes more prominent and palpable, but the sensation makes him smile. You’re probably barely noticing, too.

That is, until your hold and breathing finally calm down. You keep riding the wave, your head turning in odd circle-ish shapes. He kisses your pussy, helping you through it, only stopping when you open your eyes.

“Well, that was…” he says, lips as swollen as you anticipated, shimmering, “a good start.”

“Every single time,” you begin, panting, shaking your head. You watch him as he gets on his feet, moving in to your mouth. “Every single time I think it can’t get better, and then I remember it’s just the fucking beginning.”

He shifts to you slowly, grazing your lips, and declares with a soft smile, “More to come, I promise. Gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Do your worst—”

One more kiss. Shorter this time, but you recognise the familiar, lingering taste immediately. Neutral, not too bad. Fills you with pride, because he never fails to guarantee that he loves it.

But you can’t wallow in it because he retreats quickly, impatient hands freeing his golden body from his clothes. The shirt falls somewhere next to the carpet, his own joggers soon discarded, landing on top of yours and sliding to the ground together.

He’s a menace when he climbs onto the couch, knees digging in and creating a shift on each side of your body. His bulge, still hidden behind his boxers, floats in front of your face; from this close, you see the droplet of precum darken a spot of the light purple cotton.

“Next stage?” he wonders above you, stroking your hair gently, as if he’s not about to explore the back of your throat. “Want or do I rather not?”

“What do you mean with not?” Your breathing is heavy as you lift your palm and engulf the imprint of his dick. He flinches, hips moving back a bit before they come back. “Get this shit off.”

He chuckles. Brings his hand to your cheek, thumb caressing it and voice clear when he says, “You’re so cute. Being demanding and all.”

But he still listens. Gets off the couch, slides his underwear off, leaves you gaping.

Gaping at the hooked and girthy tower. Gaping at how the slit on top of his head glimmers. Gaping at the moles along the stiff length, staring at the thick veins, at the full, firm balls.

“Tongue out,” he orders; you do.

The ink-free hand pushes his dick down to you, tapping it against your tongue as you open up wide. He feels heavy, hot, the skin smooth. Your head moves forward to swallow more, but he pulls back.

Strokes himself for a couple seconds, thumb spreading the precum over his head. You drool. Watch attentively, as though you’re learning — until he eventually guides it back to you and positions it into your still gaping mouth.

Enters it slowly. Slightly salty. Then says, “Breathe. And don’t overthink it too much.”

Huh.

Well. Damn.

Because…

At times, you do worry about your expressions; about your tears when you gag around him, the coughing fits you get in the middle of it all. So that’s a surprise. Attentive. 

But your mind is blank today anyway; so you nod, moving to lick the underside of the tip, and he laughs, mumbling, “Alright. Have it, babe.”

And you do.

Slowly at first, cautious as you twirl your tongue around him. You don’t notice much discomfort just yet, thankful that he’s easing you into this. A third of his length buried inside, you close your lips around him and hollow your cheeks.

Which is probably when the invisible threads holding him back finally break.

“Okay,” he says, “you got this.”

His knees move in, more inches intruding. His fingers drift to the back of your head, and you dig yours in his brawny thighs. He grows harder in your mouth, impossibly bigger the more you drag your lips along his member.

How gratifying. You’ve craved this for hours and days. What was your argument about again?

Your head drops further back when he shoves himself inside, more and more as time passes. You imitate his prior advances — hum and close your eyes. Bring a hand to the base of his cock, pumping all that you won’t be choking around.

When you gaze up at him to analyse his reactions, he leaves your mind vacant. Because his head is raised, like yours, jawline edged and acute. Mouth open until he meets your eyes.

You hope he’s seeing something just as lascivious and mind-numbing from his perspective. Maybe messy hair, laying against the softness of your shirt. Or a cock appearing out of and disappearing behind pretty lips.

Slowly blinking eyes that shut just as slowly again, and a tongue that falls out and licks along a vein whenever your head moves to the side. Allowing you a couple deep breaths.

He must be perceiving it all, too.

Because a moment later, he gnarls, like a wild animal, and states, “This won’t do—”

—Before putting both hands under your ears, holding your head and…

Ramming his cock into your mouth.

You gasp around him, taken aback and delighted at once. Feel the effect between your legs, hoping to not defile the couch too much.

Head still thrown back, falling further, you already feel the ache in the back of your neck. Your attempts of holding onto the couch prove futile because there is nothing to hold onto, armrests too far away; so you return to his thighs.

But he keeps your body steady, held at the spot between his legs. Your head is a different story: it bounces back and forth, the exhales through your nose frantic as he pounds into your throat before he slows down again.

“Good, gooood,” he drags out, observing the glistening veins as he draws back to his tip and then moves in again. “Doing very, very well. Looks so gorgeous, baby.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about — about you, his cock, the position. Everything? 

He keeps up the gentler pace, allowing you a break. Allowing himself the pleasure of this very image. Pretty lips surrounding a pretty dick.

And perhaps your desperate, little moans, accompanied by rapid blinking, set a fuse loose in his brain.

Because a moment later, Jungkook dares a step further — cock already stuffing your entire mouth, he pushes in more. The fat monstrosity reaches far, your gag reflex not as much at bay anymore as before.

The view seems to spur him on, though, and you can imagine why. If you were him, you’d probably enjoy the drooling mess under him, too. Salivating all over his dick, you feel the gross drop of your spit land on your clavicle, throat constricting as he thrusts in.

And just when you’re about to tap his thighs — very reluctantly, too — to catch your breath, he pulls back, fingers immediately digging into your cheeks to straighten your neck and head. You cough, eyes teary, your breathing quick and uncontrolled.

Like a toy, he moves your head to the left, to the right, a sly smirk playing around his lips until he moves down to you, back arched. Amidst your panting, he presses a brief kiss to your mouth, slippery against the dampness.

And then he says, as casually as he shouldn’t, “You’d look so beautiful in leashes.”

“…What?”

But he ignores your mumbled inquiry, instead thumbing at your lower lip. His dark eyes flit from one facial feature to another, pink lip caught between his teeth. The firm chest rises dangerously when he breathes in.

“Should I come in your mouth?” he asks as if you’d ever say no; as if you don’t know that he’s asking because he won’t. “Huh? Shoot it all the way down your throat?”

“Do it, fucking coward.”

…And just like that, he moves back.

tumblr is cruel and the 1k block limit in the new editor won't let me post the entire thing at once lol so here's the rest in a reblog!!! <3

[curryshesus]

bts fics that give me life in a drought

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 2

didn't expect to make a part 2 so soon but seeing how much recognition the first one got, here we are! some of these contain a hearty amount of angst, and oh they're just simply divine :( once again, please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did!

➺ knife’s edge - by @readyplayerhobi

| jungkook x reader, jimin x reader | 141.8k

mafia au, fluff, angst, smut, violence, series

>> summary: "the jeon clan is family, built on blood and loyalty. it’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the clan, jeon jungkook. you would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?"

this fic absolutely BROKE ME. i was so conflicted all throughout and deadass went through all the 50 stages of grief. the angst was unparalleled. the fluff had me giggling like a madman cuz jk is an absolute sweetheart :( jimin is too :(( y/n is dumb and so is her situation :((( i cherish this fic sm

➺ novocaine - by @kinktae

| jimin x reader |

1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "going home was hard – painful even. but falling back in love with jimin, the boy you left behind? downright gut-wrenching."

➺ ghostin him- by @adonis-koo

| namjoon x reader (taehyung x reader) | 26k

angst, angst, as well as angst. comfort too dw, one-shot

>> summary: "life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. that is until you meet kim namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go."

ohmygod the writing hello? the amount of soul, depth, and sheer utter beauty in missy's words are beyond me. had me sobbing every other line and my heart aching all throughout and boy was it worth it.

➺ take five - by @jiminrings

| yoongi x reader | 10k

angst, fluff, unrequited love, pinning

summary: "dr. min yoongi's a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand - oh and also, he's divorced."

➺ page turner - by @gukslut

| taehyung x reader | 13.6k

teacher!tae/ librarian!reader, fluff, smut, minor angst

summary: "corny romance and a zillion cheesy Romeo and Juliet quotes and references."

my tainted hopeless romantic heart ugh. they're so cute.

➺ bloom- by @hobidreams

| namjoon x reader | 20.7k

assassin!reader x florist!namjoon, smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff

>> summary: "family is who you kill for. who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom."

➺ counterfeit culture - by @ggukcangetit

| seokjin x reader | 29k

modern day au loosely based on jane austen’s pride & prejudice, e2l, fluff, smut, comedy

>>summary: “for as long as you can remember, you’ve always known right from wrong, good from bad, and woke from entitled/ignorant. but when you continue to cross paths with Kim Seokjin - the apparent antithesis of everything you believe in - certain walls begin to crumble. and over time, you come to realise that the world isn’t black and white, first impressions can be misleading, and that you are just as guilty as each person you’ve judged so harshly. realisation brings acceptance, and maybe, just maybe, acceptance can bring something more.”

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

| jungkook x reader | 22k

friends to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, comedy, angst

>> summary: "in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him."

➺ to hold a dragon's heart - by @softlyjiminie

| taehyung x reader | 19.1k

dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader, smut, angst, fluff, forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au

>> summary: "two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?"

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(5) ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡

⁀➷ everlasting | Jungkook X Reader | reincarnation Au | @kimvvantae

⁀➷ photograph you in this light | Jungkook X Reader | Short | @yoongiphoria

⁀➷ Rabid: the beginning | Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo

⁀➷ angels & airwaves | gamer!jjk x named f!reader | Series | @yeojaa

⁀➷ bands | Idol!JK X Stripper!Reader | Series | @xpeachesncream

⁀➷ The Dark Prince | Prince!Jungkook X Caretaker! freader | Series | @jkeuphoriadreamland

⁀➷ wartime child | Jungkook X Reader | wizard au | @ktheist

⁀➷ Your Head | Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader | OneShot | @kookiecrumb

⁀➷ Seat of Power | ceo!jungkook x reader | Political Au | Series | @ctrlsht

⁀➷ l’aquelarre | witch!jungkook x human!reader | Oneshot | @venusjeon

⁀➷ Authority | Solider!Jungkook X Married!Reader | Oneshot | @jungk0oksthighs

⁀➷ The Deepest Marks of Essence | Yandere!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @lleldey

⁀➷ Bad Habits | Psycho!JK X Reader | @bonny-kookoo

⁀➷ Suddenly | Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Reader | Drabble | @kookiecrumb

⁀➷ sᴇx ᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘɪsᴛ | sex therapist!jk X Reader | Series | @koos-euphoria

⁀➷ Euphoria | Jungkook x reader | TimeTravel Au | @btssavedmylifeblr

⁀➷ the water is alive | himbo!jk x water nymph!oc | Oneshot | @venusiangguk

⁀➷ boy's a liar | Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @wnderkoo

⁀➷ glass of wine | Jungkook X Reader | Threeshot | @dark-villian

⁀➷ your innocence is mine | Jungkook X Virgin!Reader | Oneshot | @flowerprincesscherryblossom

⁀➷ regular | film major!jungkook x convenience store worker!y/n | oneshot | @ttttaehyungie

⁀➷ Show off | CEO!JK X Reader | oneshot | @borathae

⁀➷ Once Upon a Bracelet | Prince Jungkook x Sorceress Reader | Fantasy Au | @ladyartemesia

⁀➷ 200mph | JK X Reader | @aechawrites

⁀➷ Love's Swing and A Miss | Jungkook x Reader | Oneshot | @miraclesatnightfall

⁀➷ Bunny Boy | Yandere!JK X Reader | @bonny-kookoo

⁀➷ something in the heir | knight!jungkook x palace woman!reader | Oneshot | @hisunshiine

⁀➷ Go to hell | FootBall Player!JK X Reader | Oneshot | @bangtanficsforyou

⁀➷ Red Light: The Fear | GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK X TattoArtist!OC | Series | @bunnybubae

⁀➷ last to know | EX-Husband JK X Reader | Divorce Au | Series | @mangowillow

⁀➷ faith | rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader | 80s Au | Drabble | @venusjeon

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹˚. ♡

𝒥𝒰𝒩𝒢𝒦𝒪𝒪𝒦 𝐹𝐼𝒞 𝑅𝐸𝒞 𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯

[byuljoonie]

Give me possessive koo smut 😇

pairing: dom!jk x fem!reader

genre: smut, drabble, request, unedited

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, drinking, lots of swearing, oral 4f, overstimulation, mocking, couch sëx, rough missionary, unsafe sëx, degradation, biting, slapping, squirting, bruising, hair pulling, dom!jk, sub!reader, a little toxicity, idk Sunday fun day ig

note: hope it’s to your liking♡ -dubu

“Unlock your phone.” Jungkook’s eyes pour into yours as he waits for your compliance.

“What?” you question, aggravated by his unnecessary interest in your coworkers.

“Open it, Y/N.” he insists, leaning back onto the sofa cushion, pressing the cold rectangle into your palm.

“Babe, seriously?” you whine, searching his eyes for a hint of playfulness, finding nothing but an ocean of severity.

You were having a conversation about work, letting your boyfriend know of your upcoming schedule and activities. You accidentally let the name of your project partner slip through your wine-coated lips.

Jungkook’s ears perked up at the ring of a masculine sounding name. You stare at him in defeat, taking the phone from his hand with a pitiful sigh.

“I haven’t even texted him yet, for Christ sakes Jungkook!” you say exasperated.

“Yet.” he replied matter-of-factually.

“It’s not like I chose to work with him, Koo.” you exclaimed dramatically, unlocking your phone and going to his saved contact.

You felt this antagonizing creature clawing at your tender insides for momentary satisfaction. Why did you let the wine talk before your instincts? Jungkook isn’t exactly the kindest when it comes to other men around you.

He wasn’t controlling, but his possessiveness was like an amplified speaker to anyone who even thought of sparing you a second glance.

You hated to admit it, but it was hot. The veins on his tattoo covered arms bulged with a vengeance. Each intricate pattern defining his Herculean figure.

The white T-shirt not leaving much to the imagination, your eyes lingered on his pierced lips as you passed the phone over. Earning a hum of approval from him, he tapped away on your phone.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You already follow him on Instagram?” he rhetorically asked, a mound of annoyance behind his darkening pupils.

“I follow all of my coworkers, Kookie.” you complained hesitantly, downing the rest of the red liquid that swirled in your large Burgundy glass.

“Listen, I don’t want you working with him. Simple.” he admitted, pressing the unfollow button on Hoseok’s profile.

You were beyond infuriated, you snatched your phone back pressing the follow button in an instant. Not thinking about the consequences that follow your instinctual actions. Jungkook chuckled at your sudden burst of anger.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Y/N?” he grabbed the phone from your hand, tossing it to the plush rug, letting it slide beneath your glass coffee table.

The wine made you drunk with rage, the other part of you craving a deeper need from your hellish boyfriend. Jungkook rose from his spot on the sofa, grabbing your neck and pinning you below him. He enjoyed the feeling of your palpitating heartbeat on his fingertips.

“Baby—“ you struggled to speak, legs clasping around his knee that rest atop your unclothed hips. Bad day to only wear his shirt, you thought to yourself.

“Shut up.” he glared down at you, putting pressure between your legs.

“Since you want to act like a pathetic slut —“ he pressed his knee down harder, rubbing your clothed pussy agonizingly slow.

“I’ll treat you accordingly.” he let your neck go finally, being met with a few strained coughs from you. You had no time to react, his shirt was being pulled from your body. Your head swimming with anticipation and thoughts of Jungkook’s defilement.

You felt dizzy and exposed to the harsh temperatures of your once comfortable living room. Jungkook watched you writhing under him, a predatory smile lingering on his soft face.

“You think it’s okay to let him spend time alone with you?” he grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks between his large hand.

“Looking at you, speaking to you, touching you.” he peered over your naked body once more, eyes lingering on your bare chest, his free hand stopping above your panty line.

“All this —“ he began lustfully, “ is mine.”

He ripped your panties from your lower half, causing you to scream in frustration, fighting against his muscular arm. He let your face go, delivering 3 small slaps to your cheek. Putting you in check before he had to let whatever caged animalistic intentions loose.

“I’ve had enough of your resistance, Princess.” he whispered hotly in your ear, biting your earlobe before moving to the next ear.

“I can smell how wet you are from here, Y/N.” he bit down again, sending you into a frenzy of pathetic whimpers.

“Your cunt is crying for my attention, but you want to play with some loser?” he questioned cockily, rubbing his bare palm over your soaking pussy.

You moaned his name in retaliation, hips rutting upwards against his calloused hand. He laughed at your feeble attempts at gaining friction, pulling his hand away.

“I’m going to ruin you right here, baby.” A smirk tugged at his lips, he leaned back on the couch. Grabbing his glass from the table and downing what once was at half full capacity.

He sucked in a small breath, biting his bottom lip before turning back to you. Pulling his shirt over his head and revealing everything your eyes have been waiting for.

“I want to leave a trace of me on every inch of your body.” He stood up from his seated position, stalking over you like this was his last chance to consume you.

He yanked your ankles towards him, turning your body to face him like you were praying beneath him. Your legs hung carelessly over the edge of the couch, too dizzy to hold them up for your waiting beast. He smiled down at you in admiration, loving how ruined you already looked beneath him. Pussy leaking onto the sofa cushion, legs sprawled open for him.

“Look at you — so fucking gorgeous” he gleamed, kneeling in front of your body. He ran a hand over your stomach, letting his inquisitive fingers explore your skin.

“Fucking love your tits, Princess.” he leaned down beginning his assault on your chest, licking and sucking at your nipple like a love drunken mad man.

“More — please Kookie,” you begged, arms resting on his back, nails scratching in intricate motions. He hummed against your nipple, tongue circling the bud feverishly.

He pulled away with a lewd pop, spit dribbling down his chin. “No one’s mouth will ever feel as good as mine.”

He started kissing down the center of your chest, occasionally leaving love marks on your memorized sensitive spots. He stopped just above your panty line, loving the way your breath hitched in your throat.

He went in with a wink, tongue lapping at your exposed sensitive skin. His tongue searched your core for unanswered questions, gripping at your hips with every moan you released. He slurped against your clit letting lewd noises drown out the sound of the crackling fireplace. He released one of your hips, bringing his hand down to open your lips. Exposing your clit to the invading muscle, he latched his lips around the bundle of nerves. You screamed in pleasure clasping your shaking legs around his head.

He removed his lips from your pussy, mouth shining with your essence. He worked two fingers over your clit, sliding them down until they hovered over your entrance. He grinned down at you before he inserted them, fingering you fiercely.

“Aww, who makes you feel this good? Hmm Y/N?” He cooed happily, “Who’s pussy is this?” He mewled, setting his fingers into a come hither motion.

“Y-yours—“ you cried out desperately, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

He used his free hand to slap your clit repeatedly, sending you into a crying mess. Your legs closed around his arm, body writhing against his unmoving fingers. He pulled you closer and closer to your orgasm, biting his lip in concentration, relishing in the sounds you were making for him.

“Cum, baby. I want to feel you cum on my fingers before I fuck the soul out of you.” he confessed sweetly, sickeningly sweet. You groaned at his words, letting the knot in your stomach burst. You felt stars cloud your vision as his fingers continued their actions.

He used his free hand to slap your pussy again, smiling at the way you cried out for him to stop. He kept going, moaning at your cunt clenching repeatedly around his fingers.

“Koo, please” you implored weakly, hiccuping along with a string of moans.

“Please what? Stop?” he questioned teasingly, “No.”

You felt another knot forming in your lower stomach, his fingers edging you closer to a stronger orgasm. Your stomach felt funny, it felt different, like a new sensation of pleasure was pushing through.

His urged you to cum, his fingers hitting your g-spot with ease. With a few last pumps, you felt yourself release on his fingers, screaming his name in shock. You stomach twitched continuously, opening your eyes to see the aftermath of what just happened.

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s lower face glistening with your mess, his pupils dilated and hungry for more. You felt your cheeks grow warm, not knowing what to say next, you’ve never done that before.

“Naughty girl, why’ve you never squirted like that before? Guess I should do better, huh?” He rose from his position on the floor, giving you a second to catch your breath while he removed his shorts.

His cock sprung free from its restraints, mushroom head aggressively leaking with pre-cum. “I want you to take this dick like the slut that you are,” he pumped his hand around his length, moaning at the way you lasciviously looked at him.

He lowered himself down until he was level with your center, rubbing the tip against your sticky folds. You granted him a pitiful whine, biting the corner of your swollen lip as you watched him rub against you.

“Use your words, Y/N. I won’t hold back unless you say it,” he probed, restraining himself from slamming his hips forward. You lay quietly looking him in his eyes, daring him to take you.

“Fuck —“ he pushed into you gradually, “squeeze my dick just like that,” he groans fingers pressing heavily into your hips.

“So big, just want you,” you moaned at him, pussy clenching around his cock again. He pulled away slowly, ramming back into your hips with brute force. His balls lewdly slapping against your skin as he fucked you into the sofa. He picked up his pace, rhythmically filling the room with grunts. He reached forward taking a hold of your hair and yanked your head back, biting your exposed neck. A light sheen a sweat coated your hot skin, beads of sweat running down your cheeks as he fucked you. The living room rang with filthy words of mocking betrayal and faux empathy for your overstimulated figure.

He pressed a hand down on your lower stomach, eyes nearly bulging from his head at the feeling of his cock invading your insides. His actions made your breathing increase, hiccuping over his name. His face contorting in immense pleasure as he demanded you repeat after him.

“Say it. Tell me you love me while you take this dick, Y/N.” you felt your hips aching, knowing marks already began forming on your body.

“I love you Jungkook—“ you cried out obediently, pussy convulsing around his stilled cock. Your orgasms rushing through your bodies. You shivered at the empty feeling you felt when he removed himself. He leaned down pressing a kiss on your neck, wiping some of the sweat from your foreheads.

“I love you too.” he smiled boyishly, breathing heavy and warm on your neck. “I’m taking you to work all next week, babe.”

[7ndipity]

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[mikrokcsmos]

Marriage Material

synopsis; in which you witness firsthand exactly how much your boyfriend loves you (and distrusts all men).

pairing; boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader ft. taehyung

genre; minor angst, mainly fluff, humor, established relationship, bts run au

rating; PG-13

warnings; none just a jealous koo <3

w/c; 985

a/n; this debate was too cute. and this idea is even cuter. but jungkook be the cutest.

In his defense, you knew he was a very jealous person.

In your defense, it was his brother.

Jungkook does his best to catch your eye, but you’re too busy, to invested, in helping his older brother out with a perilla leaf.

Once it’s separated, you ask his brother if he’ll need help with more. You may be oblivious to your boyfriend’s agitation, but his brother isn’t.

Jeon Jung Hyun just chuckles nervously, grunting quietly to himself as Jungkook kicks his shin underneath the table again, before telling you no.

“It’s okay, y/n. My brother’s a grown man.”

He chides in from his seat across from you.

“Love, I do the same thing for you all the time and you are a grown man. Sometimes, people need help.”

As you say this, your focus is on perfecting your own perilla leaf, which ironically, you start to have trouble with. Your tongue sticks out in concentration, only for you to puff out your cheeks in minor frustration.

Seeing you having trouble, makes Jungkook’s eyes soften, and he lets out a quiet sigh in resignation. Later — he would explain in great detail exactly how he feels on the matter, but right now you needed him.

Wiping off his chopsticks with a napkin, he stretches out his arm, chopsticks aimed in determination to resolve your problem. When he sees your eyes light up from his help, he wants to puff out his chest the same way a superhero does, cause that’s how he feels whenever he helps you.

Whether it be reaching something up high for you, pulling out your chair and tucking it in, wiping specks of food off your face, giving you the last slice of pizza or bite of food in general (which is how you really know he’s in love with you), or separating a perilla leaf—

His eyes squint involuntarily as he thinks of that last one, but what he doesn’t realize is he’s still staring at you as he does it. You pause your chewing, brows raising in confusion at the look he’s giving you. You swallow.

“Why are you looking at me as if you’re about to murder me?”

“What?”

He snaps out of it instantly, sheepish smile on display at getting caught in his own head. His eyes flicker to his brother’s momentarily, and it has Jung Hyun stuffing his face with another perilla leaf you helped him with earlier in order to avoid his brother’s wrath. It only fuels his jealousy.

Following his line of sight, you find him glaring at his brother and frown.

“What’s with the gloomy face, y/n?”

Taehyung asks in question, sitting back down next to Jungkook, now back from his trip to the bathroom. Jungkook’s head swivels to yours.

“Did I do something wrong, love?”

You try to think back to moment’s later, head replaying the past in flashes until you sit up straight, eyes widening in epiphany.

“This has to do with that perilla leaf debate, doesn’t it?”

Jungkook tries his best to look everywhere but at you, and Taehyung stares between you both in amusement, chuckling.

“I missed something, didn’t I?” He lightly elbows Jungkook, who leans away from him, choosing to stay silent, but you know better now.

His hand fidgets with the straw in his cup as he nervously pokes his tongue out to play with his lip ring. That’s all you need to see, though, your hand coming to lay on his.

“Jungkook, love, look at me.”

He does. For only a minute. Eyes now focusing on Taehyung who leans into Jungkook to prod further.

“Y/N, did you help his brother with a perilla leaf, per chance?”

You purse your lips, as does Jungkook.

“I did.”

“Ah.” He nods, then leans back against the booth with his arms crossed. He nudges Jungkook with his shoulder.

“Are they gonna fall in love now, and get married?” Taehyung jestures, chuckling lightly, trying to ease the tension he’s slowly beginning to feel. Jungkook’s brother stays silent, fully aware it’s best not to add to the growing tension he didn’t mean to cause.

You give Taehyung a hard stare. He backs off, hands up in defense.

“Hey Tae, let’s go pay for the meal, yeah?” Jung Hyun offers suddenly, and Taehyung gives him a grateful smile.

“Yep! See you both…in a minute.”

Just like that, they walk away.

Taking the opportunity, you slide out of your seat and take Taehyung’s, now side by side with Jungkook. Again, you attempt to gain his attention by taking his hand in yours. This time, it works.

“You know I love you, right?” You start, tone soft.

“Of course.” He angles his body to face yours better, and now that he no longer has the napkin to play with, he defaults to playing with your fingers instead.

“You know I would never leave you—,” you wiggle your fingers in his grip for emphasis with your next words. “—especially when the whole reason we’re having dinner in this nice restaurant is to celebrate our engagement.”

He rubs the back of his neck, tilting it back to look at the elegant light fixture above the table for a split second, before fixing his gaze back on yours.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get to me as much as it did.” You caress his hand with the back of your thumb, eyes full of nothing but understanding.

No judgement.

“It’s just, how did I get so lucky that you chose me of all people to spend the rest of your life with?”

“I’ve been asking myself that since you put this ring on my finger, love.” You smile warmly at him, and his whole body fills with content. When you kiss, it makes every worry of his slip away, and all he can think about is how he can’t wait to marry you.

[bts-princess7]

No more - JJK x Reader

Summary: Jungkook wakes up with a lil surprise and you help him.

Warnings: overstimulation, smut, fluff, whiny jk, teasing, oral (m receiving). Lmk if I missed something!!

A/N: I didn’t proofread this and I gave up on the word count but it’s not too long, just a one shot 🤗🫶

“Are the reports done, sir?” Jungkooks assistant held an open folder, scanning his desk for the papers she requested. He let out a huff, digging through a pile of documents and handing them off to her reluctantly. Jungkook stood and stretched, back and neck cracking after sitting at a desk all day. “Any fun plans tonight, sir?”

His assistant looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. She’d been trying this since the day he took over, the old boss was kicking the bucket and everyone in the office was excited at the idea of a new young boss. Most of them gave up the minute they realized he was engaged, obviously disappointed. Not her though, she kept trying. “Just spending the night with my fiancé,” he answered her dully. She huffed and stormed out of his office.

He shrugged, glad to finally be left alone. He gathered up his phone and his gym bag, which he sued during his break, and locked up his office. He made his way to the car, sighing as soon as he closed the door. Finally, another end to a horrible day.

Jungkooks minds were filled with thoughts of you as he drove home, his body was completely at ease by the time he pulled into the driveway. His lips were pulled into a smiled when you came out of the front door to greet him, “Kook!” You exclaimed, running into his arms.

He stumbled back at your force and lifted you off the ground, “Hi baby,” he cooed, nuzzling his face into your neck. You smelt like fruit and flowers, it was your favourite perfume and knew he liked it.

“You smell like leather and sad coffee,” you giggled when he put you down, frowning a bit because the scent was sure to be stuck in his suit.

“This new office job is horribly depressing,” he yawned, forgetting to let go of you and keeping his arms around your waist until you pushed him off of you.

“Oh you poor thing,” you pouted, cupping his face in one hand gently. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, he got this job for you, to help support the both of you.

You were just as hard working, doing double shifts at the diner whenever you could to save up for your wedding. “It’s worth it,” he reassured you. You nodded and pulled your hand back.

“Come on inside, kookie. I made mac and cheese,” you lead him inside and grab two bowls. After you were done eating, you cleaned up while he was in the shower, putting the time at 10:30.

You were already in bed by the time Jungkook was done in the shower, his eyes were barely open as he made his way back into your room. He observed you sitting in one of his shirts, nothing but a black thong covering your lower half.

Your hair was straight and fell as perfectly as ever, he didn’t know how you always made your hair look good without doing anything. Everytime he looked at you he remembered why he’d accepted the gruelling work hours, because he wanted to tie the knot with you. He needed to.

“Come to bed, baby.” You told him, he pulled the drawstring of his sweats tighter, flipping off the light switch and hopping into the bed. You laughed at the impact and had to scoot back onto the mattress, Jungkook was already under the covers and had his arms open. You snuggled into him, his big arms coming down are pins you and holding you against his chest. “Goodnight, Koo.”

“Goodnight y/n,” he nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a deep breath before finally closing his eyes. Your scent flooding through his veins, it was the only thing on his mind. All the time, it was only you.

Your eyes, your smile, your lips, your body, the way you treated him and put up with his clingy behaviour. You were his whole world, everything he cared about, his main priority.

You shifted against him, throwing your leg over his and squeezing his waist, pushing a little groan out of him. Finally, he drifted off to sleep with thoughts of you. He slumped down in his sleep, cheek pressed against your breast, using it as a pillow.

Something was hurting, he didn’t know what but he knew that it was keeping him up. He opened his eyes, squinting at the clock, it was only 3:20. As he became more aware, he realized that the pain was coming from between his legs.

Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh, his hand made its way down his bare chest to his crotch. He let out a groan as he rubbed himself through his pants, biting his lip and looking in your direction. To his horror, he noticed that you were awake. “Need some help, kookie?”

“Yes, yes please.” He was desperate, you shifted to he was propped up on the pillows and you were between his legs. You were so beautiful, smiling up at him coyly, it was his favourite sight.

You leaned down and placed small pecks on his cock through his pants, feeling it twitch against your lips. He let out a moan, rolling his hips up towards you.

You continued to move your lips along the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, your saliva dampening the fabric and making him easier to see.

“Oh Koo, you’re so worked up.” You chided, squeezing him through his pants. His hips twitched, eyes wet and desperate at the sight of you.

“Y/n, baby please,” he groaned. You rolled your eyes, giving in and hooking your fingers in his sweats. He lifted his hips and you pulled them down, discarding them over the side of the bed.

His thick cock sprang out of his pants and slapped his toned stomach, making him let out a low moan. You gripped the base of his cock, thumb reaching up to rub under the mushroom head. “Yea baby, get your mouth on there,” his hand snaked around your head and pulled your hair back in a ponytail.

You licked a stripe up the bottom of his cock, tongue stopping to run the tip of it along his slit. “Oh fuck,” he moaned.

You made sure to look into his eyes when you opened your mouth and sank down on him, you knew he was vocal in bed and it was one of your favourite details. His hand gripped your hair tighter, forcing you down without much thought.

Your hands rested on his thighs, you let him control your movements. He was so lost in you, when his eyes weren’t closed they were on you. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured. “So pretty, so pretty with my cock in your mouth. You like that don’t you? Does it taste good, baby?” He coaxed, you pulled off his cock, crawling up to him and pushing your tongue in his mouth.

His tongue rolled around yours, tasting himself on your tongue. “Taste so good,” you giggled, biting your lip. You planted kisses along his neck, making sure to suck in his skin and leave marks.

“That’s it baby, let that bitch know who I belong to,” he growled. His voice had gotten deeper, both from the sleep and the pleasure you provided for him. You made your way back down to his cock, a bead of pre cum gathering at his tip.

You licked it off before sinking your mouth down all the way, going as long as you could before having to come up for air.

His hand forced your head back down, you let out a moan around his cock, you loved it when he was rough. He worked you lower every so often until finally, he pushed you down so your nose was against his pelvis. “Holy fuck, baby.” He moaned, breath shaky and tongue toying with his lip wring. “Choke on my cock, baby, fuck!”

Each moan he let out was closer together, you could tell he was close. Every so often his cock would twitch in your mouth, the pitch of his moans getting higher each time one was let out. “So close baby, so fucking close.” He whined, feeling you hollow your cheeks around him. “Yes, yes!” His whines were so high pitched, like music to your ears.

His hand tightened around your hair as he came, his whines long and repetitive. You felt his cum filling up your mouth, the hot liquid shooting down your throat. “Fuck, baby.. your mouth is so good,” he moaned, taking deep breaths.

Jungkook let go of your hair, but you didn’t take your mouth away. He was confused as he felt you swallow, some of his release spilling out the sides of your mouth. “Y/n, what are you, oh-“ he moaned, unable to finish his sentence.

Slowly, he caught on to what you were trying. You were so skilled with your mouth and it was overstimulating him quickly. “So good, too god ughhh,” he whimpered. You pinned his hands at his side, his toes curling when you teased his head.

“Hmm,” you moaned around him. His hips bucked up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex, which only made him more sensitive.

“I can’t, y/n please I can’t take it.” His moans turned to whimpers as you moved your head faster. You had to hold his hips down with your hands, but they still squirmed underneath you.

He was much stronger than you, there was no doubt that he could overpower you if he really wanted to. It could be because of the pleasure you caused him, or because he liked it. “Oh, oh fuck!”

His arms reached behind him and latched onto the headboard, his knees bent, and his thighs twitched on either side of your head.

You sank down all the way, his cock almost halfway down your throat. You looked up at his face, his fluffy brown hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead, his eyes were either squinting down at you or completely pressed closed. His lips hung open slightly, sometimes his teeth would pull his bottom lips into his mouth, but now he was more focused on your movements.

“Baby please,” he begged, absolutely losing it when your hands came up to squeeze his balls. “You’re gonna make me cum, oh my god, so sensitive.”

This was exactly the reaction you wanted from him, your fiancé had been so uptight lately, so stressed. All you wanted to do was help him relax, help him feel good. Besides, it was empowering to see this big dominant man shiver under your touch.

Jungkook let out a lewd moan, his cock twitching furiously in your mouth. Without a word, he came in your mouth for the second time, his eyes wet and tears streaming down his cheeks. He was so beautiful, so ethereal.

You swallowed everything, coaxing him through his climax and took your mouth away from his cock with a pop. You crawled back up to him, taking him in your arms and letting him wrap his around your waist. “You’re so mean,” he breathed, looking at you with beautiful brown eyes that were illuminated by the moonlight.

“Sh, you know you liked it,” you tease. With a smirk, Jungkook mustered up any strength he had left and rolled over so he was laying on top of you, completely crushing you with his weight. “Jungkook!” You exclaimed, he moved off of you just a bit, majority of his body still on you.

“I did enjoy it, thanks honey.” He gave you a sweet kiss, the faint taste of him on your lips. You have him a small smile and nodded before finally going back to sleep.

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter Four

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x fem!reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one the talk to but the pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stable upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: Suggestive themes, language, mentions of abuse and trauma

Word count: 1.4k

Unedited

Little hops make their way to your bedroom door. Your personal alarm clock. Slowly, the door opens and a ball of fur jumps on your bed, tapping your leg with its foot.

"a couple more minutes please", you groaned, flipping your pillow to the other side. The bunny huffed, tugging on the blanket. He continued to kick until you gave in.

"Fine, c'mere Koo..." his face beamed. As soon as you sat up, leaning against your wooden bed frame, Jungkook hopped in your lap and rolled over.

You happily gave him what he wanted, gently rubbing his belly and patting his head. "Are you gonna do this every morning?"

The bunny shook his head and put his paw on your hand, never wanting it to leave his fur.

"Alright, enough. I have to make breakfast", you said, scooping him up in your arms and heading downstairs. He blissfully laid his head in the crook of your neck, enjoying the ride.

Downstairs was quiet, a little too quiet. Usually, the guys always woke up before you, shifting into their animal form. However it seemed no one was here. "Kook, where is everyone?"

He shrugged. You put him down so he could take a look around, but something told you they weren't far. Then you heard a couple of coughs come from their bedroom. You knocked on the door lightly.

"Come in", you heard a hoarse voice say. The door slowly creeked open.

"Oh-"

Joon, Jin and Yoongi were laid on the bed, flat on their backs. Jimin and Tae sat uselessly on the couch and used tissue paper all over the floor.

"Hey, Y/n", Jimin smiled weakly. His voice was raspy, scratchy. The others looked pale, like they had just seen a ghost. Jimin however, was red as a tomato. He was burning up.

"You guys..." you pouted. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Jin tried to get up but the pack leader quickly eased him back in bed. "Didn't wanna bother you... it's nothing, really."

You walked around the room, picking the tissues up off the floor and into the trash. "This looks like something, Joon! When did it start?"

"...A couple days ago, maybe?"

"A couple days! You guys waited a couple days to tell me you were sick?"

Taehyung raised his hand. "Actually, we weren't gonna tell you at all but-"

"That doesn't make anything better, Tae", Someone said, sounded like Hobi.

"...Hoseok?" He wasn't on the bed and he wasn't on the couch...

After some searching you found him in the bathroom, laying on the cold floor tiles. He had a roll of toilet paper in one hand and a thermometer in the other.

"I'm alright", he promised. "Feeling better already. I was actually gonna-"

"No. I don't want to hear anymore", you shook your head, grabbing Hobi and helping him to the bed. It looked like a storm had hit their room. For a good minute, you stared, wondering why in the world they couldn't come to you. Maybe they weren't as comfortable as you thought. Maybe they still didn't trust you. They all falter under your gaze. They're not sure why but every time you stare at them with those eyes that light up the room, they falter.

You don't seem to notice it though.

"We're so sorry! We'll get better", Tae pleaded.

The packer leader vouched for him and the others. "It's my fault. I wasn't paying attention. I swear, we are really feeling better."

Now you're the one that doesn't feel well. You're the one feeling sick to your stomach. Not for the same reason they do, but because they easily sit and lie to your face.

You hate lying.

"How do you guys do that?"

"Do what?" They all tensed, in hopes of the worse. Everything was going well- at least you thought so. Can a little thing like this really mess everything up for them?

"How can you guys be in pain, physical and mental pain... and lie about it?" You were confused. You were fed up. You had questions, and needed answers. You just wanted to be trusted for once in your life. "You know what? Don't even answer that. I'll be back with some soup and hot tea. Don't move."

***

With anger, you cut the carrots. With hurt, you chopped the celery. And with love, you made the noodles, shaping each dumpling into a heart. Cooking was a big stress reliever for you. Luckily, you have seven more mouths to feed, They could keep you cooking for the rest of your life- if they decide to stay.

As you stir the pot, you think. It's what you're best at, besides cooking. Your mind moves a mile a minute. And right now, your mind was telling you somethings off. Something is wrong.

"Y/n?" Jungkook, now in his human form, shuffled behind you nervously.

"Yes? Are you not feeling well?" You put your hand to his forehead to see if he had a fever. He then moved your hand to his cheek instead, pushing his face into your palm for comfort.

"I'm sorry", he whispered. "For not telling you about the others. I didn't want to betray my pack. I t-tried go get them to tell you but they can be stubborn sometimes.

You sighed. "I know, and it's okay. Don't worry your pretty little head, okay?" You took your hand away, earning a whine from kook, and patted his head.

You filled six bowls with chicken noodle soup and brought it to their room, with the help of Jungkook. They scarfed down every last drop, leaving nothing in the bowl. Then you brought them each an herb tea with honey. One by one, you went around the room, checking their temperature and looking for anything serious.

"Okay, I'll be tending to the garden. Kook, they stay in bed at all times. Come get me if you need something." Jungkook shook his head, ready to complete any task you assign him. As soon as you left, the room was more relaxed, but a cloud still loomed over them.

"We messed up", Yoongi confessed. "She must feel like we don't trust her."

"We don't. We don't trust her." Joon's voice was stern, assertive. It made the others cower in fear- except the youngest. Jin hoped to settle the pack leader before the conversation turned sour.

"Namjoon, please don't start-"

"I don't trust her! You know what she might do to us knowing we're sick!" He tried to get up from the bed but Yoongi quickly laid him back down.

"She's not like that", Jungkook seethed. "If you just got the chance to know her, you would know that. You're too busy comparing her to the researchers to realize that she's nothing like them!"

"Kook, wait-"

"Jungkook is right", Jimin agreed. "It's never gonna get better than her. I... I want to stay."

Namjoon was practically fuming by now. "You want to what?" Jin took it upon himself to calm Him down, whispering sweet nothings. But the others had no intentions of stopping.

"Y/n has been nothing but sweet to us. I-I mean she is really just trying to understand and get to know us. Why can't you just do the same?"

It was a question that Namjoon didn't have the answer to. Why couldn't he just give in? Why couldn't he at least put in a little effort? He didn't know, but he just knew it couldn't happen...

"Everyone pack your things. We're leaving."

***

For dinner you made all of their favorites. In your family, it was a way to apologize, to make amends. For you, it was a way to start friendships-- and say sorry. You may have been a little harsh on them, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Dinner's ready!" You took your usual spot at the table and waited for the others to come. Once they sit down and eat, then you make your plate.

A few minutes had passed with you sitting at the table. No one left the room. Actually, the house was unusually quiet.

"Guys? The food is gonna get cold!" Maybe they're too weak to get out of bed, you thought.

You knocked on the bedroom door as to not invade their privacy. With no answer, you knocked one more time before opening the door.

"Oh, god-"

They were gone, vanished. It looked like they were never even there. After a while of staring at the empty room, your rumbling stomach told you to come back to the dinner table. Sitting in the dining room, eating Tae's favorite Mac &cheese, you pondered.

I'm alone, you thought. I'm all alone again...

-

-

Taglist!!

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~Permanent taglist!

@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o @jewishmommy

[vminizzle]

Feel special

pairing : husband!jungkook x f.reader

genre : smut, fluff

warnings : valentine’s day, shy!reader, teasing, they’re in love, making out, biting, marking, nipple play, pet names, praising, penetration, unprotected sex, love making, size kink, breeding kink, creampie, slight cockwarming

words count : 2k

A/N : well, I know, if I wanted to write something for Valentine’s Day… I’m late asf 💀 but heyyy, when we love someone it’s every day ahah. Anyways, I hope you will like this one. I was in a “romantic” mood when writing this. REMINDER : POOR ENGLISH. Take care and love y’all. - sunny

heavily unedited :(

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED ✨

M RATED

Jungkook kissed the back of your neck softly, his strong arms envelopping you in a warm back hug as you talked.

“roses?” you laughed. 

“I know that’s cliché.” he scratched the back of his head shyly as you turned around smiling.

“I love them so much, thank you.”

“I bought your favorite cake earlier.” you said pointing toward the dessert on the table.

“wrong.” he said making you look at him confused.

“you are my favorite cake” he grinned teasingly.

“oh shut up Koo.” you slapped his chest playfully before hugging him again.

You looked up at him, staring at his lips then into his beautiful eyes.

Jungkook bent down slowly cupping your cheek gently to kiss you, sucking softly on your bottom lip, pulling you closer to his body.

You snaked your arms around his neck deepening the kiss.

Your husband tapped on your thigh lightly gesturing you to jump.

Your legs were wrapped around his thin waist as he walked toward your bedroom.

The room was adorned with vanilla scented candles, rose petals,  it was just so romantic, the atmosphere felt so warm. 

He put you down on the floor as you admired your surroundings amazed.

“Jungkook.” you breathed out.

“when? I mean, how? I .. I mean ..wow! It’s so.” you turned to him again, tears in your eyes threatening to flow as your heart was melting with all the love and affection you were receiving.

“I love you.” your voice cracked as you sobbed into your hands.

“No no baby, don’t cry please.”

Your husband rushed to you, encircling you with his arms pulling you in his embrace.

“I love you y/n, I wanted to make this ..hm..special?” he squinted his eyes searching for words as you wiped the tear sliding down your cheek.

“Feel special. I wanted to make you feel special.” he pinched your cheek playfully a grin decorating his face.

“well, that’s cliché.” you joked.

“I’m kidding. I really appreciate this surprise. It’s so beautiful.” you smiled grabbing his hand. 

“thank you so much Koo.“ your eyes sparkled.

“don’t. You deserve all of this.” he laid a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“now, where were we?”  he wiggled his eyesbrows making you rolled your eyes.

“Well, I don’t know, perhaps were you about to get rid of this?” you gestured at your black dress.

“mmh yea, sounds fun.” he smirked, his hands finding their places on your hips, one hand sliding up to the zipper of your dress.

He unzipped the dress, letting the delicate material fall at your feet.

“holy shit.” he cursed astonished.

“You’re so damn gorgeous.” his eyes wandered over your body as if it’s the first time he see you.

“how did I get so lucky?” he looked you up and down for the umpteenth time, practically drooling at the sight.

You looked away shyly, his strong stare making you feel small.

You were wearing the black lingerie set he offered you for his birthday.

Yes, his birthday. He wanted you to wear it for him.

“Is it my birthday yet?” he joked.

“shut up idiot.” you slapped his chest lightly.

You put your hands on his black shirt, playing with the buttons before unbottoning them one by one.

Throwing the shirt somewhere on the carpeted floor, his hands immediately roaming on your soft skin.

“what a wonderful gift.” he groaned, his lips on your neck again, goosebumps raising after their journeys.

”Jungkook.” you giggled.

“y’know, I asked you what you wanted for today since last week, but you didn’t answer me.” you pouted.

He kissed your cheek laying you on the bed behind you gently before hovering above you.

“well.” he caressed you cheek.

“I want.” he pecked your lips.

“a baby.” he whispered against your lips.

Your heart skipped a beat cheeks burning as he smiled, resting his forehead on yours.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready darling. I can under-”

“I want a baby too.” you caressed his hair softly, fingers tangled in his soft black locks.

“are you serious?” he asked excited 

“yes.” you nodded.

“oh my god.” he hugged you tightly his body crushing you knocking the air out of your lungs.

“I love you so much y/n, you don’t even know how much.”

“I love you Jungkook.”

He looked into your eyes lovingly before pecking your nose.

Jungkook sat up again, placing his knees at each sides of your waist before taking your hand softly and placed it on his firm chest. He slid your hand down slowly on his smooth skin until it reached his boner.

“this, is because of you.” he stared down at your flustered face before getting off the bed and unbuckled his belt.

He came back onto the bed after getting rid of all his clothes.

“why so handsome.” you chuckled as you could noticed the tip of his ears getting red.

“you’re so cute.” you chuckled caressing his ears.

“I’m not cute, I’m sexy.” he winked making you laugh.

He laughed too before attacking you with kisses all over your face.

Jungkook’s lips got lower, kissing your jaw before traveling down to your neck licking the skin, then down to your collarbones leaving love bites on the area.

The sensation of his teeth against your sensitive skin made you moan.

Taking his sweet time to worship your body, enjoying every of your little reactions, his lips reached your covered breasts.

“mind if I take this off?” he asked playing with the straps of your bra.

You shook your head giving him the green light, he immediately got rid of your lacy bra throwing it in the pile of clothes laying on the floor.

His eyes drifted to your bare chest, fingers sliding from your stomach to your underboob, thumb caressing the soft flesh.

Jungkook bent down, attaching his lips around one of your nipple making you whimpered as you felt the wet muscle rubbing on the erected bud.

You watched his other hand fondle with your breast, eyes focusing on him stroking his thumb lightly against your nipple making you breathe heavily.

He twisted your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling dizzy as he nibbled on the other erected bud with his teeth.

He sucked little marks on your chest, mouth trailing down your lower stomach, leaving wet kisses on the warm skin.

He reached your panties waistband and looked up at you again waiting for your consent.

“go on.” you encouraged impatiently.

His fingers dipped under the lacy material and dragged it down your legs slowly.

He spread your legs for him to lay in between them comfortably, kissing the inside of your thigh, biting softly on the flesh.

He left a chaste kiss on your glistening lips grazing the bud of nerves making your flinch at the contact.

He smiled before going up again kissing your forehead quickly.

He positioned himself at your entrance looking deep into your eyes.

“still good, my love?” he asked making you whispered a little “yes”.

He rubbed the tip on his cock between your wet lips, entering you slowly making sure not to hurt you.

“are you good baby?”

“yes, don’t worry babe.”

“just remember, if you want me to stop at any moment, let me know?” he asked making you nod.

Jungkook started moving making you hiss at the sudden move, thrusting in and out slowly taking his time making love to you.

You both wished this intimate moment wouldn’t end, it felt so good, the way his cock kept on brushing against the spot that made you moan and made you scratch his muscular back.

He couldn’t get enough of the way your warm walls clenched around him time to time.

You left kisses on his shoulder as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

“I love you so much princess, you’re doing so good for me.” he bite on your ear lobe lightly earning a soft moan from you.

Jungkook looked down where you both were connected, his hand traveling down to the little bump on your lower stomach, applying a slight pressure making you and him moan at the sensation.

“shit baby, you see that. You’re so small you can even see my cock inside you.” he groaned when he felt you clench around him.

“just imagine when our babies will be there, growing inside you. The way your tummy will get round and swell f-fuck.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but imagined how pretty you’ll look pregnant.

He was so close to his climax, so were you. 

“so tight and warm.“ he whimpered in your ear, the sound erupting goosebumps on your body.

He sounded way too hot. You wanted to remember that sound of him every day.

You threw your head back in the pillow when he kept hitting on your g-spot.

“are you close princess?” he asked panting.

“yes yes fuck! are you?”

He groaned a low “yes” before kissing you passionately.

He gripped your thigh tightly, placing your calve on his hip to get a deeper as he adjusted his hips.

“Koo fuck fuck I’m gonna-”

He took your hands softly, placing them on each side of your head tangling his fingers with yours.

Holding hands while making love was a gest of pure love, it meant a lot for the both of you.

“Jungkook!” you came undone around him as he snapped his hips onto yours harder and harder making you see stars.

“fuck! I’m gonna put my babies inside you fuck, keep all of it! Can’t wait to see your big bump, walking around carrying my children! ahh yes!”

He gripped the headboard as he went faster, too carried away to even think about anything else than to cum inside you as soon as possible.

The thought of you being pregnant made his eyes roll to the back of his head, biting on his bottom lip hard not caring if it will bleed later, he was too lost into his fantasy.

“fuck you’re gonna look so fucking hot with my babies inside you shit!”

Jungkook cummed inside you with a loud moan following by your name, his hot cum warming you up, filling you up to the brim.

The way his eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly ajar : he looked so good.

Jungkook let his body collapsed on top of yours, laying his head on your chest as he took deep breaths to calm down, saying inside your warmth.

He sighed pleasantly as you stroked his head, pulling his hair back off sweaty forehead face.

“are you ok my love?” you asked kissing his head making him hummed before pressing his lips on your neck to leave a soft kiss on the abused skin.

“I’m more than ok.” you smiled at his words.

“I love you so much y/n.” he looked up at you lovingly.

“I love you more Koo.” you poked his nose lightly.

“no way, I love you the most.“ he pursed his lips disapproving.

“I love you more. now shut up if you really love me.” you smirked making him laugh loudly.

“what? C’mon.” he sighed defeated.

After a few minutes he pulled out, watching in awe as the sticky liquid oozed out of you. 

Jungkook pushed his cum back inside your core with two fingers making you hiss.

“I told you to keep them all.” he pecked your lips, his words taking you aback a little.

“I can’t wait for you to carry our babies.” 

He went down to place a soft kiss on your tummy making your heart melt at the cute gesture.

“You’re gonna be the best mom.”

“and you, the best daddy.” you flicked his forehead making him chuckled before biting on your collarbone.

Kissing you one last time, he rolled on his back pulling you on top of his body.

“I love you Koo. Happy Valentine’s Day.” you nudged your noses cutely, a smile decorating your husband’s lips.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, i love you darling.”

“let’s cuddle for a moment and then get clean up.” he muttered sleepily making you nodded.

His arms snaked around your waist pulling you closer to him before cuddling you. Sleep catching both of you after a few minutes.

—

A/N : searching for my soulmate rn 🧍🏽‍♀️*sigh* hope you liked this one. Have a nice day / night lovely people. Love y’all

[rispwr]

Wildest dreams - J.JK - MDNI - FF - OS

Pairings : sisters bf! Jk x reader

Content : cheating, slight age difference (reader is 19 and koo is 21), fingering, cum eating,

“No one has to know what we do

His hands are in my hair,

His clothes are in my room”

“Hmpf, who’s this” i answered the phone half awake, my voice still raspy “this is jieun, who is this?” The girl on the line replied, my eyes widened, reaching for jeongguk on the bed, tapping him “gguk! Babe! Jeonggukk!” I whispered yell trying to wake him up. His eyes flutter open whispering back “what’s happening?” “Jieun” i replied pointing to the phone “oh..” his eyes widened as well taking the phone from my hand “hello hello? Babe sorry that was my little sister jeong-ah” he chuckles nervously, running his hands through my face, cupping my cheeks “ohh okay okayy, well then im almost there at your house yeah?” The girl on the other line responds making me jump out of panic “ohh okay okay baby just a minute?” Jeongguk panics aswell. He hungs up the phone quickly leaning onto me giving me a peck on the lips “hide baby hide” he says quickly trying to fix himself as i nodded. I went inside the closet covering my mouth trying not to make any noises.

I then heard the door open “jeongguk-ahh i miss you lovee” jieun squeels jumping on the bed onto him but she feels a damp wet spot on his bed “why is this wet?” She asks him in curiousity.

Shit i forgot i squirted on his bed

I bit my lip as i shut my eyes praying she won’t think anything.

“What the fuck ggukk” my oldee sister cussed, pulling out a purple laced panty “how long has this been huh??” She snapped. Jeongguk stayed silent looking down, fiddling with his piercing “im sorry” jungkook whispered, loud enough for her to hear it “fuck you gguk..we’re over” she then gets out of the bed and storms out of the apartment, tears running down through her face, feeling betrayed.

“Y/n you can come out now” jeongguk weakly announced.

The silence stayed for awhile as i opened the closet, getting out of it.

I went towards jungkook to hug him, still in my bra “aww baby…im sorry” i said ruffling his hair gently as he burries his head on my chest, his arms around my waist, palming my bare ass. “Atleast we can now be together?” He mumurs. I let put a soft chuckle “I’ve been telling you to break it off first with her before fucking me but too late. Was i really that good in bed that you couldn’t wait anymore?” I coo still ruffling his hair. “Very babe. Could fuck you all day long” he replies his hands making its way to my clit, rubbing it making me release an arousal and a slight whimper “fuck y/n..i need you. I don’t care about anything else i need you” he pulls away and pushes me on to the bed, hovering on top of me, still circling my clit. “Kiss me gguk. Kiss me” i let out breathy and whiny.

He then kisses me passionately, using his skilled tounge against me. I could feel his mouth smiling while kissing me. “Jeongguk. I need you. Need you everywhere” i whined in between the kiss.

He then inserts 2 digits inside me, making my body arch, release a gasp. His fingers inside me then crooks making me release moans in between the kisses “hmpf gguk.. fuck so good” i said breathly. He then inserts another digit onto me “feel good? Huh? Tell me. Im the only one who can make you feel this good huh?” He pulls away locking eye contact as he pumps his fingers into me “y-yes gguk!! Only you!” I moaned loudly replying to him as my fingers dig into his back “im close..” i said, my walls clenching around his fingers, he knew i was close. He then started pumping into me even faster and harder making me finally release. Coating his fingers with my white liquid, he pulls out making a ‘plop’ sound, as if pant and gasp for air.

I then lock eyes with him “i love you y/n” he says, taking his fingers to his mouth to suck it, suck my juice off his hands. “So delicious baby” he gives me a grin, giving me pecks all over my face “say it backk” he whines “i love you too” i reply giving him a big genuine smils

[luvismenu]

Three Way || Maknae Line

chap: ✎ 13 pt.2 (missed you)

index

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warning: NSFW, smut, fingering, riding, a little bit of praising and degrading, protected sex, begging, needy oc

“needy aren't we?” he chuckled as he pulled away from your lips.

you're not sure how it happened, but the moment jungkook stepped in, you couldn't hold yourself back. he looked surprised when you kissed him, but he quickly took control, leading the moment with confidence.

now, here you are, making out with jungkook on your bed, his hand in your panties.

“koo,” you breathe out, “i want you.”

“oh yeah?” he says, finger circling your clit as you bite into your lower lip and nod. “how badly do you want me?”

“f-fuck koo, i want you inside me,” you tell him, almost groaning when he starts to part your folds and slips one finger in.

he pumps his finger, nuzzling his face to your neck as he starts biting your skin there. “miss me that much?”

“so much,” you moan, back slightly arching when his finger rubs against your sensitive spot.

“you're teasing me too much, just fuck me already.” you whined, “please koo.”

“patience baby,” he pulls his finger out, licking it clean.

“what did you say? you wanna ride me?” he raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on his face.

you felt shivers down your spine, your eyes lit up in excitement. “yes yes please koo," you almost drooled at the thought of riding him.

“beg more,” he smirked.

“please let me ride you koo, i wanna cum on your cock,” the sound of your desperate pleas only fueled his satisfaction, a sense of triumph coursing through him as he realized his power over you.

“good girl.”

“fuck jungkook!!” he gripped your hips harder as you kept bouncing up and down on his cock. you made him feel so good, forcing moans out of his lips. you stared down at the purple marks on his neck; something you did when he carried you to your room.

"you're so needy," he growls, grazing his teeth against your jaw before he kisses it. your hands clutch onto his shoulders desperately. “needy like a good slut,” you whimpered feeling how deep he was inside of you.

his cock hit the deepest point every time you lifted and dropped your body. “you're driving me crazy baby,” he made you grind harder and faster with his hands controlling your movements.

“j-jungkook i am close,” you moaned.

“you're gonna cum baby? gonna cum like the little slut you are?" he asked out of breath as he started to thrust upwards. whimpers escaped your mouth as you nodded.

“use your words,” he slapped your ass picking up his pace, thrusting deeper into you.

“y-yes!! fuck yes!” you could feel him twitch as he pushed in and out.

his pace sped up for the last time making you grip his shoulders tighter. in an instant, you came, and so did he. he pushed in as deep as he could for the last time as moans escaped his lips.

“that was... so good, you're so good.” you say, voice strained as you try to control yourself.

"yeah?” he chuckles, “i missed you too.”

a/n: are we liking jungkook x y/n or??? 🤔