#park kanghyun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

Text

peppermint gum, m | jjk | and burst forth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

It’s impossible to fall in love when you’re already in love. And Jeon Jungkook was in love. Helplessly. But what could he do? Time passed. The world became tasteless to his eyes. All he could do was hold onto the crisp and intense color of those memories, remember her words, and wonder where she was now. Savor, and burst forth.

click here for part i | this is part ii | total wc: 25k

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse - child neglect and abandonment; sloooow burn; mild alcohol consumption; hardcore pining JK; angst and fluff and feels; (in part ii) smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamic, so much kissing, hair pulling, scratching / marking. grinding, choking, m-receiving oral, finger sucking, fingering, nipple play, m-masturbation, thigh riding, edging, penetrative sex, doggy, multiple orgasms); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; from lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again :)

non-idol!AU; pining!Jungkook x noona!reader — ft JK’s helpful? friends Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin; reader’s close friend and talented guitarist, Kang Hyungu (ONEWE’s Kanghyun if you want to see his appearance, hehe, same personality); JK has all his piercings and has hair (lol)

Jungkook woke up with crusty eyes and on top of the love of his life.

Sexy.

Not.

He woke up with a start, the last dregs of an icy and panicked nightmare clawing at him. He couldn’t even remember what happened. The only way he could describe the sensation was that it was as if the color blue had become an emotion. Which was crazy talk, but honestly at this point what was new? After all, Jungkook was peeling his eyes open with effort and seeing the most beautiful sleeping face under him, even with the dark circles under her eyes.

He froze.

Oh, shit, what have I done?

A frown flitted over her features.

Her eyes opened a crack.

He squeaked and immediately ducked. Shoved his face into her chest, hurriedly wiping away at his face with the cuffs of his sleeves. I can’t show my face like this, I look so stupid and pathetic, I–

“Jungkook?”

Her voice was low and unused.

“What… What the fuck are you doing?”

He could still feel the residual ache between his eyes from crying so much, but at least he had cleaned up his eyes and felt a little less like a crispy bun left in the oven too long. “I…” Pausing, but the truth came tumbling out anyway. “I didn’t want you to see me ugly…”

He mumbled into his hands.

She snorted and Jungkook jumped as her hands settled in his waist, squeezing him, only now realizing that his sweatshirt paws were on top of the curve of her breasts. Thankfully, she was clearly wearing a padded bra under. How she slept in it was beyond him. Then again, she managed to sleep with a whole ass man on top of her, although his lower body was in between her legs.

She held onto him.

“Believe me, I’ve seen ugly. You’ll never be close to ugly in my eyes.”

She said it sleepily and with her head tilting back to stretch her neck. He couldn’t say anything. How could he? Oh, sure, if he was unserious, and he opened his mouth to joke back but nothing came out. He almost wanted to cry again. Instead, he shut his mouth and trembled, trying not to put too much weight onto her. She either didn’t care or had enough grace to not comment.

“You still snore pretty bad.”

“S… Sorry.”

She cracked her neck and exhaled over his head.

Her hands relaxed and slid over his lower back.

His eyes widened, overwhelmed by the cool, heady rush swirling through his body at her touch.

“I got used to it then, so I guess it’ll just take time,” she murmured.

For a second.

For a fleeting, perfect second, Jungkook was held by his most precious memory.

Then, she patted him in the back and her hands retreated. A soft groan and her palms planted onto his chest, lightly pushing him away, wiggling under him. He promptly backed up, turning his head away and hiding his disappointment, but she didn’t look in his direction, stretching and yawning, pointing towards the bathroom, go ahead and get washed up, I’ll get you a towel for your face, and he latched onto the suggestion to scurry away, trying not to seem too hurried, his large black parka carelessly falling onto the floor with a heavy thump.

It was suddenly cold and far too bright.

But he couldn’t run back to her.

His head snapped towards the mirror the second he burst into the bathroom.

I look like shit.

The pink flush on his cheeks deepened to red as he approached the sink, dropping his head and turning on the water. Splashing his face and gasping at the cold. Fuck, I am such an idiot. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be cool, calm, and collected and sweep her off her feet with his newfound coolness. Instead, he had broken down and cried like a child in her arms until he passed out from all the emotional energy he expelled. Great. Way to look dumb, Jeon Jungkook. He scrubbed at his face with his palms, hoping to peel off a layer and reveal a better man, as if he was some kind of golden onion and not a fractured, incomplete, whiny little bitch.

“Hey. Hey! Maybe you’ve heard of the term facial peel, but what you are doing is not what the term means.”

Jungkook jumped at the interruption, and was greeted with a plop to the face from a fluffy white towel. His reflexes caught it right away, pressing it to his cheeks, embarrassed again. All he could muster out was a t-thanks, and then he started again as he felt her crouch and open the cabinet under the sink, accompanied by sounds of clunking.

“Here. Pick a toothbrush. Pink or purple?”

He yanked the towel off his face and saw himself in the mirror, his half-wet black hair sticking straight up, and then he looked down, startled and wide-eyed. She raised an eyebrow at him, down on one knee and prosing the choice of a light pink toothbrush in one hand and a lavender-colored one in the other.

She shrugged. “Sorry. Last ones in the multipack are these colors. I save the fun colors for guests so they can distinguish themselves.”

He glanced at the one in the holder and it had a black handle.

“Uh… I guess I’ll take the purple…”

He took it, careful not to made skin-to-skin contact.

She disappeared under the sink again.

“I have a travel toothpaste if–”

He jerked his head, his mouth full of suds.

“Or you can just use mine,” she said slowly, lowering her hand. She shoved the travel toothpaste back under the sink, presumably in its previous hiding place. “Not like we haven’t swapped spit before, I guess.”

He tried to apologize, but she stood up, waving it away.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked, taking her toothbrush and starting her own routine.

It felt…

Normal.

Shockingly, unbelievingly, scarily normal. Her and him, in close quarters, standing beside each other and sharing the mirror and the space. Similar to his small apartment back then. Similar to the tiny hotel rooms they sometimes visited when his previous roommate was there. These days Jungkook had a bigger apartment and lived alone. Just like her, it seemed. She had was a clean and modern bathroom, but he saw her touches all around it. The black cherry scented lotion. The large dark gray bath towel with a matching fluffy hair towel wrap hanging on a hook beside it. The black wire basket above the toilet held neatly stacked white rolls. They looked soft and plush.

Her toothbrush holder was matte black glass.

Sleek and elegant.

He leaned down and used his hands to cup some water, the used towel around his shoulders. Rinsed and spit, trying to be efficient. And not disgusting. He continued staring down at the sink bowl.

Unable to lift his head.

“You… You must be tired of me…” he mumbled, exhaling as evenly as he could, the mint flavor cooling his tongue and the inside of his mouth.

She answered slightly muffled.

But dead serious.

“You can stop pretending you are inconveniencing me and simply accept what I’m doing for you.”

Jungkook raised his head.

There was a brief heartbeat exchanged in the mirror. Seeing each other in reflection. Somehow it was more honest than being eye to eye. Well, of course, because he had been having trouble all morning making any real eye contact, but in that brief moment, in that second of time that felt like hours, in that gum bubble right before the jarring pop moment, she saw right through him. He let himself be seen, and it seemed as if she knew and accepted what his true feelings were, despite his fear of his wants being too ugly to admit. Knowing him better then he knew himself, just like how it always was.

Had been.

What?

She kept brushing her teeth absentmindedly, and then moved past him, picking up the other cup to rinse her own mouth and spit. He backed away, but not too far. Wiped his hands on the towel given to him. The unspoken intent lingered, do you still not understand what is happening here, and he did, but he was afraid to be wrong.

He was so very afraid.

And yet.

Her head was right there, soft hair and all.

His hand lifted.

She rose quickly and his hand retreated immediately. She was speaking and opening the mirror, revealing the hidden cabinet and an array of crammed skincare. All higher end brands, along with an onyx gua sha stone with its own stand, and a lip balm she plucked off the edge and applied.

“I have bread, eggs, cheese. Can make eggy toast topped with cheese and have kimchi on the side. Extra butter to make the bread crispier. You’ll like it.”

“I… wuh?”

You make the eggy toast and ate breakfast with Jungkook.

A big chunk of butter slapped into the hot pan. Then pan-toasting the bread on both sides until golden brown before pressing down the center of the bread slice with a ladle, creating a shallow bowl to drop an egg in. You had let the egg cook for a bit before sprinkling a little salt and white pepper, then added shredded cheese on top and covered the pan, giving it a few seconds to melt before removing the eggy bread from its warm home and onto a plate. Added some kimchi on the side for some prickled freshness and handed the meal to Jungkook, who had hovered around you the entire time, providing various oohs and aahs with your every action.

Your one-man hype squad.

It wasn’t the most Korean meal, but he had been drinking the night prior. A hangover meal of sorts.

You didn’t talk much.

You had already done enough. It was pretty obvious what was going on here. The real question was whether or not to let it happen. Still, you couldn’t let Jungkook cry himself to sleep in your arms the night before and not send him off with a full belly. Even if he never spoke to you again, it wouldn’t have sat right with you. It felt too heartless to straighten up and tell him to get out right after waking.

And, anyway.

You had missed him.

It made no sense. It wasn’t like you had deeply invested into those few months with him. You had been too caught up in your endless cycle of self-destruction to truly appreciate how much Jungkook liked you. It was obvious, of course. He followed you like a puppy and never wanted to leave your presence, but you had chalked it up to him being young and not knowing better. In fact, you had originally thought he was still chasing a fantasy up until last night, but no amount of your denial could explain away his words or those tears. He had grown up, at least enough to understand that reality and dreams weren’t one and the same. And yet he had clung onto those memories of you, even if he thought that the future he was heading towards was tasteless.

That took a certain kind of stubbornness.

Well, you must be stubborn to stay in love, no?

You paused mid-bite.

Jungkook was stuffing his face. You had made him two pieces. He had seemed very hungry. You spooned more kimchi onto his plate distractedly, your mind wandering. Devotion was stubbornness. Wavering was lack thereof. Stubbornness was often an act of selfishness and that was still true in love. It just depended on how one imposed that selfishness onto another.

You felt a tap on the back of your hand.

You started, blinking out of your thoughts.

He was staring.

“You didn’t finish eating,” Jungkook gulped, tilting his head. “Something wrong? I thought it was really tasty.”

This was coming from someone who would eat basically anything. Still, you took it as a compliment. Not because you needed to be complimented, no, because you saw his black-brown eyes sparkle when you half-smiled at his comment. Just for that. Just to give him the small happiness of knowing you valued his praise. You could be humble about the culinary skills you had acquired over the years simply so you didn’t look arrogant, but, then again, the result would be that Jungkook would feel as if his words weren’t worthwhile and that was not the truth.

Even if your mind wasn’t so sure, you still smiled for him.

No matter the result, you loved me back then, in the only way you know how. You taught me about your love, whether I believed in it or not. Very ox-like of you, Jeon Jungkook.

“Do you think we should go on a date?” you suddenly asked.

His big peepers popped open wide.

“A d-date?!”

“What should I wear?!”

“Nothing.”

Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung high-fived each other with a simultaneous maniacal giggle as Jungkook stood next to his open closet door with his eyebrow twitching. So much for having older friends giving their mature opinions.

“Very funny,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

“Isn’t that how you get ‘em, JK?” Taehyung teased, grinning with all his teeth. Typically, Kim Taehyung gave off a mature, elegant vibe. He was the kind of handsome that could elevate any look with his strong features and cool demeanor. The deep baritone voice only added to his manliness. “Just rip off your shirt and bam!”

With close friends, though, Taehyung was an idiot.

“What if he walked into the restaurant and tore open his shirt?” Park Jimin snorted behind his small hand, trying to be polite but failing miserably with the nonsense coming out of his mouth. “Do you think his date would notice first or do you think he would get arrested first?” The epitome of cute and airy, Jimin was the type that ended up being social because he looked so approachable with his soft features and endearing eye smile. He always drew in a crowd with his genuine emotion behind his carefully considered words.

Which meant that Jimin was also the type to rub in the teasing until he really, really grated those nerves.

Sigh.

“You’re not helping, guys,” Jungkook growled, thumbing through his very monochrome closet. Black, white, gray, classic blue denim. Not much color. Shit, was he really this boring? Honestly, he ended up selecting basics mostly for the reducing decision fatigue when picking out an outfit for every day. It did not, however, help when he needed to impress.

Especially because Jungkook rarely wore or owned any formal wear.

Was a dress shirt too much? Too little? Not a good indication of the kind of man he was now? He didn’t want to portray like a better or false version of himself. But he had to look good. Fuck. This was way easier when his only goal was to get laid and not to have a relationship.

“You still haven’t told us who it is,” Taehyung piped up, still sitting on the end of Jungkook’s bed with Jimin. One would think the fashion model of the two would get up and start pulling things, but he didn’t budge.

“Yeah, we need deets,” Jimin chimed in. “We can’t suggest anything without context.”

Jungkook responded flatly. “It’s a girl.”

He could practically hear the eye roll in Jimin’s response. “Wow, what an underwhelming gender reveal. Next time bring those poppers with pink confetti while you’re at it.”

“Uh, well, do you know her personally or is this blind date status?” Taehyung asked, sounding confused.

“I know her.”

Jungkook knew precisely why Taehyung was confused, but didn’t address it. Jimin, however.

“Why are you being so cagey? By now you would have shown us a pic.”

Yeah, by now, he would have shown a face photo or even the dating profile. To be honest, Jimin was the most useful on pinpointing perfect outfits that screamed “fuck me now” even with only a few pics or a limited text exchange. He was some kind of wizard at that. Personal experience? Who knew. Taehyung ended up being emotional support and occasionally the voice of reason.

“Ugh, is it that stuck-up bitch from a couple months ago?” Taehyung suddenly stood up, coming up behind Jungkook. “I don’t like her.”

“I told you I didn’t even sleep with that one,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away as Taehyung thumbed through his jackets, took out a fitted light denim one, and put it on himself, modeling in the full-length mirror for who-the-hell-knows-what reason. Too casual, right?

“Good, because nobody liked her,” Jimin tutted.

Yet she did look similar to a clean someone.

Not as pretty, though, Jungkook knew.

Sometimes he had to take what he could get. Not that time, because they were both right. That woman’s personality was awful. Had been best to run right away. Jungkook frowned as Jimin stuck his hand out right in front of his face, waving it around.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“We need pics!”

Jungkook offered one detail. “She’s hot.”

“No shit?!” Jimin gasped sarcastically. He staggered back with a fluff of his bleach blond hair. “That’s so out of character for you!”

Jungkook glared and thought about biting him.

Did not.

For now.

“Ah!”

Jungkook froze. That was the type of exclamation Taehyung let out when he realized something important. The kind where Taehyung pointed upward and popped his fist into his open palm, about to say the very important thing and blow everyone’s minds.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

He could sense Taehyung was facing him now. Jungkook couldn’t raise his head to look. His abrupt muteness was enough of answer. He felt Taehyung’s strong hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare at his clothes as if they could magically answer in his stead, chewing on the left side of his lower lip nervously.

“Am I right, Jungkookie?” Taehyung asked again softly. “I thought you said she disappeared.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you.

There was a pang in his chest, sharp and intense.

“Guess… Guess nobody disappears forever,” he finally muttered.

Jimin jerked back, stunned. “Woah, wait, wait.”

Taehyung knew more than Jimin. Not really for any other reason than gut feeling. Somehow, after he had finished moping and feeling sorry for himself, Jungkook had felt that Taehyung would understand the intensity of it all. Taehyung had a grounded personality, but there was certain je ne sais quoi about the dark-haired man. Call it a hunch from the partial truths of described rendezvous in Paris and his occasionally off-the-cuff viewpoint on things. Taehyung had always been inseparable from Jimin ever since they met, so Jungkook had to tell the other male too, but back then Jimin was kind of a…

Well.

A slut.

Safe and consensual, but dude had been going through his hoe phase. He hadn’t been in a place to understand how profound those memories had been for Jungkook. Therefore, Jungkook had just said he really loved her despite the short timeline. Jimin had told him he was an idiot to believe that. Taehyung had whacked Jimin in the back of the head for that. He did apologize right away, but it wasn’t until years later that Jimin really comprehended the depth and apologized. By then, though.

It was all too late.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jimin worriedly chittered. “She broke your heart last time. Bad.”

Jungkook looked up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Taehyung persisted. “Come on, don’t act like we haven’t noticed you have a type. You think Jimin and I are cross-eyed and blind? Not to mention you usually drop girls like hot potatoes with your weak-ass excuses.”

“Yeah, for instance, you randomly stopped seeing one girl because she liked sweets,” Jimin pointed out.

“She likes sweets,” Jungkook interrupted. “But only sour candy. She would always give me any chocolate she received.”

Taehyung rubbed his forehead, his tan skin glowing under the overhead lights. “Dude.”

“This is not good for you.” Jimin sighed, expression apprehensive. He resembled the skeptical emoticon with his rounder and more animated face. “Setting aside if she has become a better person or not… why now? And could she really be as great as you think she is or are you trying to make her live up to an impossible fantasy?”

“It just happened,” Jungkook snapped. “We ran into each other the other night.”

Jimin frowned. “A little fast, isn’t it?” He was slipping into his Busan satoori with his frustration. It often came out around at the same time Jungkook’s did since they were born in the same area.

“Did you at least talk to her for a long time?” Taehyung playing devil’s advocate in this case. He loved a swift romance, as unlikely as it could be. Red string of fate, soulmates, the works. “What was it like?”

Jungkook would never call himself a poet.

He simply answered exactly how he felt.

“It was like I was able to finally come home after a long journey,” he breathed out.

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look. But Jungkook didn’t care anymore, lost in her smile, her touch, her smell, lost in that night. It didn’t make any sense, of course, because she was vibrant as she was calm, but that was how it was. Coming home. Like bursts of color back into his desaturated world. From the mundane to the extraordinary, even from something as basic as standing beside each other and brushing their teeth.

He had just liked knowing it was her.

“Did you guys sleep together?”

Jungkook gave Taehyung a side-eye. He got a shrug in response.

“No. We… went home.”

What?

Was he supposed to say, no, I ended up at her place and I cried myself to sleep in her arms? Hell no. Some things were meant to be secrets. Even Jungkook had good enough sense to leave well enough alone. Couple white lies here and there weren’t going to condemn him. Sex before marriage might, but, eh, in that case he had been damnned for long before now. Whoops.

“Uh huh,” Jimin mused. “Alright then. Let’s pick an outfit.”

“What about this?”

“Taehyung, you would wear that,” Jimin scolded, pulling out an olive-green bomber jacket.

“Aren’t sweater vests are outdated? I saw that on TikTok.”

“They’re not outdated!” Taehyung scolded Jungkook, putting back the black sweater vest with white trim. “Also, real life is not TikTok, dork. I was thinking without an inner shirt, anyway. Show off the arms.”

Jimin hummed, considering. “Something lighter. Do you have something similar in cream? Or beige? Plus some medium wash blue jeans and a studded belt. She was kinda edgy, I remember.”

“Uh, lemme look…”

“Beanie?”

“Yo, the hat hair?” The Busan dialect was coming out again due to Jimin’s agitation.

“He looks cute in them!”

“We’re not serving egg even if he is over easy.”

It took a moment for Jungkook to register the scalding degree of that burn.

“Hey!”

“What should I wear?”

“Clothes?”

You turned around to see Kang Hyungu with his raised hands and a clueless expression. “Normal people wear clothes to a date,” he reasonably stated.

You answered dryly.

“Very funny.”

You were not amused. The cerulean-haired guitarist struggled and turned away from the video call, rummaging around in his kitchen and making a lot of noise. From this angle you could peek the bottom of his dark purple undercut and his cutesy Pingu t-shirt. Hyungu was a very manly looking guy, but he never hesitated to wear graphics that he found adorable. Too secure not to.

“You didn’t order take-out again, did you?”

He made a noise that was neither affirmative or negative, which meant he definitely did. “I’m not in the mood to cook.” The word cook was being used generously here.

“Which means you made melodies all day, huh?” you interjected.

Hyungu stuck his big eyes and handsome (yet generally expressionless) face back onto the screen. “It’s such a burden to be so talented and hardworking, but someone has to do it.”

You ignored his plight. “Should I wear a dress?” you asked, pawing through your hanging articles of clothing.

“Duh.”

You frowned and looked over the dresses one by one. None of them felt right though. The date was a meal and then who knows. There was a variety of shops around the area, so it might be fun to look around and talk, perhaps. Tight dresses out, probably. You weren’t about to freeze your ass off for the vibes.

“Maybe I should wear pants?” you wondered out loud.

“Nah, noona. You look way better in dresses.”

Despite not having much expression around strangers, Hyungu had strong opinions when asked. In fact, he was so quiet that he often faded into the background before chiming in at the most random of times. He was one year younger than Jungkook. Upon first glance, he looked older, but anyone who knew Hyungu personally was subject to his seriously unserious nature.

“Who’s the guy?”

“Somebody I used to know,” you replied absentmindedly, pulling out a high-waisted black skirt with silver hardware and pleather suspenders. Hm.

You heard the frown in his voice. “Someone I know?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like anybody I go on dates with,” you shot back, pulling out a white ruffled shirt and a black velvet one. The skirt was designed to sit right under the bust so some type of undershirt was a must. The white seemed too contrasting. You could unbutton a few buttons of the black velvet dress shirt, or maybe go for a fitted red-and-black striped top to make it more casual. Maybe more casual was the move. The sushi restaurant wasn’t upscale. But, also, you didn’t care about being overdressed. A loose t-shirt might be a cool vibe too. Choices.

“They like you for the wrong reasons,” Hyungu scolded, ramming noodles into his mouth.

“Who cares?”

Nah, black velvet shirt it was. More comfortable and the mixing of textures made for a good monotone outfit. Plain black knit thigh-high socks were a no-brainer too. Plus, then you could wear black boots which was better for the colder weather.

“I do! They’re lame and disrespectful.”

You hunted for your sterling silver guitar pick necklace. “I keep telling you that I’m not looking for a relationship with them.”

“Well, you should look for a relationship with someone.”

You upturned your lips and raised an eyebrow at the screen of your phone propped up against your perfumes. Hyungu’s face still hadn’t changed much from his baseline neutral, other than one cheek bouncing up and down with each chew. At least he had the decency to keep his mouth shut. “This again?”

“You deserve to be happy, noona.”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You paused.

Then you rolled your eyes. “Some guy isn’t gonna make me happy.”

“The guy will make you happy.” And then Hyungu shoveled some rice in his mouth. He was a man of equality. All carbs were his friends.

You let out a silent, heavy exhale. “You’re so sure about that.”

“Yeah, I am,” he continued with a munch. “Even if you’re delusional about it.”

You puffed one cheek. “I’m not delusional about anything. I’m very rational.”

“I might have been drunk but I wasn’t blind, noona.”

You froze.

“I’ve never seen you act that way around a guy, ever.”

You tapped your fingertips against your dresser drawer, out of his field of view. The long seconds ticked by. Fuck it. “What do you think of him?” you questioned.

Hyungu made a scrunched face as he fought with the lid of a container that seemed to contain cucumber salad. His mother must have made it for him. “What was his name again?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh. Yeah, he was with the group that was friends of the band, right?”

“Yeah.”

He paused, twisting his lips to one side. “Mmm, can’t really remember that well. It was kind of noisy and you know how it is for me when there’s a bigger group and I’m not super close with anyone there.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I thought you said you were fine.”

He waved a hand, debating for a moment before simply eating out of the container. “Gotta keep trying to get used to it. Anyway, I was more focused on getting along with the band since we have five more shows. But he did help us in getting home. He must not be a bad guy.” He looked up at you. In some ways, Hyungu was the most honest when he was playing guitar. People not close to him found him hard to read.

He was no mystery to you, though.

“Can’t you tell that he really likes you?”

You broke his gaze, almost guiltily.

“No one is supposed to like me. I’m scary on purpose.”

Hyungu laughed.

“You’re never been scary, noona.”

In the silence that followed, you and Hyungu had a silent conversation in words unsaid. You didn’t look towards the screen, preferring instead to turn around and look through your jackets, pretending to search for something. You had been told before that you were unapproachable. That was by choice. You didn’t need nosy loons talking about shit that they didn’t know about. Thankfully, Hyungu had never done that. He simply told you what was what. Again, he was highly observant and, apparently, he had paid attention to Jungkook’s obvious signals.

“I don’t know the history between you two, but you would be crazy not to go for someone who looks at you like that, noona.”

You turned around halfway, cocking your head. “Have you ever known me not to be crazy?”

He shot you one of those looks of his. The fed-up-with-your-shit look. “Then you would be stupid. And I know you’re not stupid,” he warned, as if it was a threat. “Wear your long black fur coat. My mom is calling. Have fun.”

And then you saw him reach over and end the video call.

You stared at the phone screen as it faded to black.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head.

“No need to be so weird about it, sheesh…”

“Uh, before I forget, I meant to tell you that you look really nice today, noona.”

She stepped out of the restaurant and gave him an amused smile. “After the meal?”

“S-Sorry!”

Jungkook knew Jimin and Taehyung would call him an idiot. Taehyung had told him repeatedly to remember to compliment her and stuff like that, but they had gotten so caught up with catching up on each other’s lives after their parting that Jungkook had forgotten. He had told her about his video editing job at a music company and how he was working more towards production and directing. She had told him about how she worked to live, but her day-to-day job turned out to be a book editor with occasional other side projects. Somehow, strangely similar types of careers. Jungkook had told her about his friends and their antics. How he realized he was losing opportunities to make memories by staying in so he was trying to go out more to treasure those people. She had told him about how she never grew out of her gaming habit and how, with money, it had gotten worse. And how the rest of her free time and cash was spent on going to festivals and events to support Hyungu and his band, but it turned out she really loved discovering indie music as much as the next pop hit.

It was as if they were…

Friends.

It had been so easy, so simple despite his initial awkwardness. He had thought, for a moment, that she regretted asking him, but as soon as they sat down, she gently prodded him with conversation. The restaurant atmosphere left them alone together out in public. It was surprising because he remembered, back then at the PC bang, she had been prickly and reluctant to engage in human interaction. Now, she was confident and involved in their conversation. He saw flashes of her old, closed-off self when she paused before telling him something about herself.

But then she seemed to brush it aside and spoke calmly.

Is it because of me?

He didn’t know. It was clear, however, that things had changed.

She had become more whole and, in turn, more beautiful.

“Thanks, though,” she said with a laugh, buttoning her long black fur coat. Jungkook was a bit said about that because the all-black skirt and velvet shirt combo with the guitar pick silver necklace was so cool. Still, it was a frigid night, so he understood.

“I really did mean to tell you right away,” he insisted. They had chosen to walk around a bit to walk off the Japanese food they had just enjoyed. He was jam-packed with sushi.

“Your stunned face tipped me off enough. And the literal five seconds of silence and constant staring when I sat down.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “O… Oh.”

“I like how you look today too.”

She smiled at him.

Jungkook nearly stumbled. “T-Thanks! Although… I actually had a little help,” he admitted, sticking his hands in the pockets of his olive-green bomber jacket again. He had almost tripped only because his black combat boots had a platform. That was all. Yeah. Not because he dearly loved her smiling at him or anything.

“Well, they have a good eye, so I appreciate them.”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “They would love to hear that.” But he wasn’t going to tell them. Nope.

“Hey.”

He stopped as she paused on the sidewalk. Turned around and she was looking down the street before back at him. A moment of hesitation.

Then.

She held out her hand.

Jungkook stared at it with wide eyes, his jaw dropping.

Her expression was between sheepish and amused, the corner of her lips ticking upwards. “This is a date, right? Let’s try it. Holding hands.”

He didn’t know how to feel. It wasn’t as if he was foreign to public displays of affection, but back then he had always been the one to initiate. It had seemed that she tolerated it and he had continued to do it, blind to the inequality of affection. She had only initiated sexual activity, about as often as he did. But something like this? It was only now that he realized how much he had wished she had, even if only in private.

To others, it would seem odd that such a small action of affection would hold much significance.

He reached out.

Fingertips hovering over her palm.

He raised his head and Jungkook looked right at her, blinking hard, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Is it… Is it really okay?”

Her small smile shone in her eyes.

“Unless you have sweaty hands?” she lightly joked.

He felt his cheeks flush hotly. The innocent comment suddenly reminded him. “Oh, uh… k-kinda, actually… w-well, they might g-get clammy ‘cause they get that way when I’m nervous, um…”

She let out a chuckle and dropped her hand.

“Okay.”

Before he could blurt out a hasty, w-wait, she stepped forward and hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow, resting her fingers on his right forearm, so close now that he could smell her warm, comforting perfume.

“How about this?”

She tugged him forward with their linked arms. He looked down at her, startled, but now there was mischievous glint in those mysterious orbs shadowed by lashes. His skin prickled from the closeness, even underneath all the layers. Legs moving forward even if his brain hadn’t caught up.

“You thought I didn’t remember that you like skinship?”

“I… I thought…” He swallowed, trying to clear his throat and the fluttering of butterflies that had shot up from his stomach and into his throat. “I thought you hated it.”

She shrugged. “Normally I do. But I want you to be my exception.”

It was a good thing walking was a muscle memory action because Jungkook was pretty sure he was in a different daydream dimension at her response. Er, nightdream? Whatever. He couldn’t fuck this up. Well, the crying on the couch was always a point against him, probably. He winced at the cringey memory.

“Noona, um.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry about the other night to your place.”

“You mean when you sobbed and became a puddle on my sofa.”

Ouch. “Y-Yeah…”

“I can’t say I expected it. It’s all good though. I’ve fallen asleep on that couch countless times.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you. At the time, he had been too emotional to gauge her response to everything he said. Maybe this was all a pity ploy to his extreme reaction. He didn’t want to believe that, but his mind was restless at the thought.

He needed to know.

“I meant it though. Everything I said.”

“I never took you for a liar,” she answered, holding onto him as they walked in step, their bodies lit up by the various colored lights each shop used to entice customers to enter.

He had to inhale deeply before asking. “I should have asked you how you felt though, before running my mouth like that.”

There was sound all around them. Noisy cars. Music from inside the stores and blasting dully from vehicles. Chatter from people all around them, on phones or huddled together. The echoes of steps blending together into an endless nighttime march. The occasional laugh or dinging of a bell when someone left a store. People who passed them glanced quickly before looking away.

It was conceited, but Jungkook enjoyed seeing their flashes of envy, even if all strangers could see was their outward appearance.

None of them knew the whirlwind between these bodies.

“I am the kind of person that always believed the past is in the past,” she finally said, holding onto him tighter. He tried not to stiffen when he realized the back of his upper arm was right by the side of her clothed breasts. “It took me a while to accept that I can’t do anything about the past or how it affected me. Likewise, I don’t really believe in reconnecting with people. Drifting apart is natural. Not negative or positive, per se. Just happens. I always believed it happens for a reason.”

Oh.

He bit the left side of his lower lip. She continued.

“You asked me back then, aren’t you afraid that I’ll forget you? I answered a bit cheekily, I remember, but your question stuck with me. Nobody has ever asked me that, you know? In fact, I am used to being forgotten.”

There was something about her voice.

The quality of it had gotten mistier. Introspective. And hurt. It was not directed at him, but it was there despite an obvious attempt on hiding it. He felt her grasp onto him tighter, although maybe it was less about the physical aspect and rather to the things he had said.

“I had become so used to it, in fact, that I thought your question was ridiculous. Forget me? Of course, you will. It would be better if you do. We all need to move on from our past and not cling to a memory holding us back.” She let out a mirthless laugh, but softened, leaning her head against his shoulder. If the current topic wasn’t so serious, Jungkook would have been over the moon. His heart beat fast regardless. “But you didn’t forget me. Even after all this time. I thought it was just because you wanted your dick blown.”

To be fair, that was a reason on the list.

Lower priority, but there.

Jungkook, once again, shut his mouth and left well enough alone.

She let out a breath.

It quivered in the cold, crisp night air and disappeared.

“I use reason and logic in my everyday life to interact with others. To maintain relationships. But love? Love is something that has no reason. I don’t know how I feel towards the idea. I would not say the emotion is afraid, but it is not a positive one either. The idea of love constantly reminds me that it is something I lack. That something so basic was supposed to be mine, but I was denied it throughout my childhood without knowing it.”

She stopped.

Jungkook turned and saw she was gazing up at the moon. There were no stars visible from the city, but everyone knew they were up there.

“Did you notice I don’t talk about my parents?” she asked softly.

He did. “Yeah.”

Her tone seemed apologetic. “Is it selfish to expect some kind of affection from those who birthed you? Or even only a simple co-habitation relationship? Anything other than nothing?”

Well, shit. “I don’t think so.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I almost wished they had given me away. Or hated me. Something. Anything.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say.

Firstly, because he was not good at comforting anyone. Not even himself. He was simply sulky until he kinda got over it. Granted, much of it was first-world problems. He could always go running to his parents for advice or solutions if he couldn’t think of any. Or his friends. But deeply personal stuff he kept to himself. It felt almost a burden to say something, so on some level he could understand the importance of what she was saying. Why it was significant that she felt the need to tell him. He could feel it and he was grateful she was willing to express it to him.

“I don’t want you to experience a fraction of what I did. I don’t even know how deeply those moments are embedded in me,” she sighed, loosening her grip on him. “I see those moments reflected in my instincts. The scars of my past stick to the soles of my shoes no matter where I step. I don’t know how much of it is my true feelings or something that is simply fundamentally wrong with me.”

He remembered something.

“But you said you want to learn love,” he said quietly.

They stayed beside each other, warmth whirling with warmth even when surrounded by cold, crisp air.

“I did say that, yeah.”

Then all those littler things. The things she said and the way she said them. The offer.

“I don’t really understand love either,” Jungkook admitted.

She chuckled. “Yeah, I got that from your chaotic reentry back into my life.”

Their arms were still entangled. Although she was the one holding onto him, Jungkook was the one who brought his arm closer to his body, pinning her forearm to him. She accepted it, not moving away. His body sung at the contact but his thoughts trembled.

He whispered to the moon and the darkness above them.

“I’m scared that one day you won’t want me to be in your life anymore. Again.”

He couldn’t look at her. He was not about to bawl in public, for fuck’s sake.

“Don’t let this end.”

I have always been in love with you.

No person could fill that void. He tried, countless times. Jungkook knew it was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, all the conclusions. But it was not crazy to know that he would never be the same. Even so, he could have lived a satisfactory life. A fun one, even. It was not fair to chase those that didn’t want to be found, so he hadn’t. If it was all for the best, then it was for the best.

But she came back to him.

His peppermint gum love.

“I’ll be stuck to you, you know.”

He turned his head and found her looking back at him. His pit-a-pat heartbeat, following the pop of each bubble, sharp and exciting, and he savored it. The seconds, the moments, the memories, all swirling into one. Everything. Everything, bright and intense and reminding him how it was like to live life.

Jungkook grinned.

“Okay.”

She smiled and raised herself.

And kissed him.

It was as if his fractured, desaturated world fell into place all at once and color burst forth.

Her soft scent pressed up against him, persistent, clinging, and he drowned in it, leaning into her lips, the softness and honesty together. Her fingers wrapped around his forearm to steady herself, their bodies now closer together, one of her legs between his. She had stepped forward to turn and make the distance. He held her, his left arm around her waist, and he wondered how it got there. A reflexive reaction, apparently.

She broke apart, her lingering exhale warming his lips.

He frowned slightly, opening his eyes.

“Heh. That’s it for now. We shouldn’t be so forward in public, after all,” she pointed out with a smirk.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Put on his best, most convincing pout. “Who cares?”

She was laughing, shaking her head at him. “I do. You want to start this off with an arrest for public indecency? That’s a bang for sure.” She pulled on his arm, indicating them towards the sidewalk again.

“Hmph, fine, but one more kiss.”

And he yanked her back, pressing his lips to hers again, and if this was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, if he really was a fool, then he was one forever, smiling into her smile, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks, his arms around her waist, the unfaded memories and the engraved present finally meeting.

This is love.

He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t have to understand for his body to know it was real.

She leaned forward, past his nose and to his ear.

“You like kisses, huh?”

It was then that Jungkook realized his body did, in fact, know something.

“Um… This has never happened before,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning.

She held tightly onto the collar of his jacket, her hair against his chin. Half of it was pulled back with a black claw clip. It gave an elegant yet casual look while also keeping him from hiding his blushing face from bystanders.

Just his luck.

“Maybe you didn’t remember, but you also would get instantly hard whenever I kissed you back then too,” she teased, her warm breath grazing his ear. She was making it worse. Shit. Jungkook tried to bite the inside of his cheek. Her thigh was pressed between his legs so there wasn’t much hiding of anything.

“Noona, please shut up.”

“Although maybe not with such innocent kisses.”

“Noona, please…”

You danced your fingers up his chest.

Each point of contact going from fingertip to fingernail. Bated breath. Strangeness and familiarity all at once, sitting on your bed with only the orb-shaped lamp on, cool blue artificial moonlight looking down upon the magic unfolding in this room. His hand raised and closed in around yours.

You looked up as warmth encircled your touch.

Jungkook smiled nervously.

“Does it feel weird?” you asked him.

“A… A little bit,” he whispered. There was no reason to. Pointless, really, because you could hear the neighbor downstairs having some sort of wild party. Your apartment was silent. “Mostly because I used to think about it a lot.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You think you’ll stop thinking about sex after I give it to you? Maybe I shouldn’t, then.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

He puffed his cheeks in exasperation. He grabbed your hand tighter, whining your name without the honorific, and you were suddenly transported to the past. Breathless nights, falling into a melody of bodies, and you pressed your knuckles against his chest, making Jungkook yelp and nearly fall over, catching himself with his hands before freezing up as you hovered over him, crossing your arm over his front and planting your palm on the bed under his armpit. He was raised to his elbows, looking up at you with those wide, dark brown eyes. Pink lips parted, the two silver rings gleaming at the right edge of his lower lip and that familiar mole underneath punctuating every surprise and every smile.

What was that phrase?

Live fast.

It had always been like that, though.

Die young.

Would you ever really age if you were always in the perpetual state of learning to love Jeon Jungkook?

You lowered your head and kissed him.

You were well aware that this was probably too much all at once and yet there was also so much time lost from the journey apart. Maybe necessary. But bad decisions could have good consequences. A kiss for the mole under his lips first, for old time’s sake. Then his waiting mouth. You tilted your head and kissed him deeper this time, shivering at his familiar clean scent. Your other hand rose and ghosted his jaw, sliding your tongue into his mouth as he moaned. Fingers sliding into his soft hair, slowly thrusting your tongue in and out before he caught it with his teeth and gently sucked on it, running one hand over your waist, pressing his fingers into your side.

You backed off a little and flicked your tongue along his lower lip, exhaling into his mouth.

“Remember you used to be a freak?”

His jacket was hanging on your desk chair but he was still in his beige knit vest top.

His brows furrowed.

“I’m not a freak,” he insisted.

You curled your grip into his scalp and tugged. His head tipped back and his eyes slipped closed, shuddering, a mute whine in his throat, his own hold on your waist tightening, blocked by layers of your skirt and tucked-in shirt. You pulled harder and his lashes fluttered, his chin lifting and exposing his throat to your lips. Light kisses, barely there. You were pretty sure the words coming out of his mouth were a lie because his body was telling you the complete opposite.

He hadn’t changed that much in that respect.

Heh.

You ran the tip of your tongue from between his collarbones, up his trembling neck, stopping at his chin to push his head back down and claim his gasping mouth with a fierce kiss.

There was no hesitation now.

You had been worried that somehow maybe your bodies wouldn’t click. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the same level of exhilaration or enjoyment. And it wasn’t the same. Not at all. No, as you leaned in more, trying to force him to yield, and he refused, pulling your hand down from his hair and sliding it under the hem of his top, making you touch him instead, trapping you in the lip-lock, no, this was refined hunger meeting a refined flavor, and you dug your nails into his flexed abs, causing him to break the kiss and throw his head back, moaning to your ceiling.

You lifted your chin as he pushed your hand up higher.

Looked down at him as you sunk your nails into his flesh and dragged down, watching his expression flicker between pain and pleasure, his eyes turning glassy with lust, looking right back at you. Unashamed.

He tugged your hand back up again, between his tense pecs.

Your breathing shallowed.

You scratched him again, so hard that it left irritated pink lines onto his skin.

Jungkook whimpered, his black hair messy and fallen over his forehead.

I wanted everything about you.

You pulled back and seized the bottom of his top, dragging it up and over his head with his help, falling into his arms as he sat up, smacking your palms into his broad back. Taking that part of him too, irritated red lines all over, and kisses over his jaw, his naked chest against your clothed chest, his own hands clutching fistfuls of your velvet shirt, chasing after your lips.

I still do.

Your skirt had a silver zipper straight down the front center. You felt him grip the pull and check if it was working one. Smiled as he gasped, realizing it was. It even detached at the hem so all you had to do was shrug out of the suspenders. It fell to the floor with the heavy clink of metal from the clasps.

You swung a leg over him and straddled his lap.

Him shirtless, his torso covered in your violent marks.

Your hips colliding into the front of his jeans.

He groaned in your face.

“F-Fuuuuck…”

You gripped his studded belt with one hand and grinded against him. The first few buttons of your shirt were open and the slick backside of the velvet fabric caused the collar to slide off one of your shoulders, exposing your collarbone. His hands cupped your ass, sinking into the curve, and you ducked down to kiss him again, again, grabbing onto his bare shoulder for support.

His breathing hitched as your hand came close to his neck.

The impulse.

Hot and hard.

You positioned your hand around his neck and squeezed the arteries, choking him.

The sensation of power, the taste of his whine, his larger frame trembling under you, and Jungkook pressed your clothed heat into his trapped erection and succumbed to the ravenous nature of your kiss. It was the same and it was different. Layers of passion on passion. Intense and sending shivers from you to him. Back then, he was driven by inexperience. There was arousal in his fumbling and frustration, but none now when he reached for the buttons, flicking then apart with ease even as you choked him and gripped his belt. Your body faintly exposed under the folds of the lush fabric, but you didn’t drop it, instead catching his lower lip with your teeth and sucking on it tightly.

Letting him go with a pop.

His eyes rolled back, that underlip mole quivering in anticipation.

Pause.

You pulled him towards you by his neck as his vision reoriented. Hazy and lust-drunk, but unequivocally trained on you, his grip digging into your thighs. Seconds filled with rattling breaths, pushing him to the edge, and the impulse rose again. Something you used to tell him. You hadn’t really meant it back then. It was a display of fantasy then. For show. For the mood.

But things were different now.

“You will always be mine,” you growled millimeters from Jungkook’s thin breath.

His half-lidded eyes shimmered. He couldn’t respond, too lost in the headiness of lost air. But his body knew. The body has its own language and his agreed.

The corners of his open mouth lifted.

You let go of his neck and grasped handfuls of his hair, yanking his head back, his wanton moan pitching and falling, almost going limp in your hold as oxygen flooded back into his brain. You licked up his hot throat, closing your eyes, savoring the vibration of his cries and the desperate way he pinned your lower body to his, begging for release but too incoherent from the burst of overwhelming sensations to make them audible.

“And I will try to be everything you need until I run out of time,” you murmured to his raging pulse under your lips.

Maybe you would always struggle to define the word love.

Maybe you would never know.

But you didn’t need to know to listen to what your body wanted.

I don’t need to know love to be sure of loving you.

Your velvet shirt fell to the floor. You slid down between his legs. Worked together to undo his belt, glancing up at him and seeing your red marks on his chest. The rise and fall of his pants. Higher. Seeing him watching you as you pushed down his jeans. Closing in. Tracing the edge of your teeth with your tongue as you palmed him over his boxer briefs, cocking an eyebrow at his soft cry that he turned into a hiss under your direct attention.

“Embarrassed?” you taunted.

Jungkook bit the side of his lip. “No.”

You hooked your pinky finger over the waistband of those Calvin Klein’s.

“You sure?”

Desperation crawling into his gaze as your thumb rubbed against the hard shaft. Several seconds of stroking and you stretched out the waistband, rubbing a slow circle, molding the fabric to the swollen head of his cock, smiling as his cut v-line underneath was revealed.

“P-Please…” he gasped above you.

Took your time to make eye contact again. You cocked your head to his crotch.

“Go on. Take it off then.”

His erection popped out. Dark red, rock-hard, begging for your mouth.

Unfortunately, Jungkook knew how you operated.

Flashes of the past and present. Heavy nights. Early mornings. Cold rooms with warm bodies. Your hands on his knees, spreading them apart and leaning in. Lips working the inside of his thighs. Kisses. Bites. Sucking. Rushing as much as moving slowly, breathing hotly onto his cock and watching it twitch at the heat. A flicker of your gaze and the needy anticipation written all over his face. The same wide-eyed stare from back then and, now, accented by piercings and tattoos running up his right arms, his muscles tense and rippling from trying to stay still under your unspoken control.

Your lips closed in around his girth and you shoved him down to the depths of your throat.

“A-Ah, fuuuuuuuck…”

It was a familiar stretch of your muscles. He was at his hardest, giving you the freedom to glide up and down with little resistance, positioning your head at the correct angle to receive him as deep as possible. You pressed your lips inward as you rose to the tip, curving your tongue around. Up and over. Coating him with saliva and stimulating that thin skin, increasing the sensitivity with the attracting nature of water to water made more powerful by the rubbing of your tongue, sinking your nails into the insides of his thighs. Piling on sensation after sensation. Crisp with pain. Intense from pleasure. Tighter, licking all over, sliding him against the ridges of the roof of your mouth.

Jungkook panted your name, the syllables slipping into moans, losing himself to the wet bliss.

You almost didn’t catch the fleeting words his gasp.

“Yeah… it’s… s-supposed to feel l-like this…”

His hips tensed under you but you kept him down with the base of your palms, leaving him at the mercy of your pace. The familiar tingling at the back of your head, keeping the angle perfect and the depth steady, and he was right, yes, this was how it was supposed to feel – the blinding rush of adrenaline, desire, and connection all swirling into one indiscernible emotion. The kind of heat that was beyond raw passion, closer, the kind of satisfaction that was pleasure on many different levels, so close, the kind of sex that people could only dream about.

There.

A torn moan and Jungkook’s hips bucked into your face, sliding down your throat and spilling his thick, salty orgasm into the tight pocket. You locked your shoulders and stopped moving, feeling his cock shudder and throb. His cum oozing upward, and you swallowed, chest tight. He cried out above you but you held him down and swallowed again, inhaling much needed air, his strong taste coating your tongue, tactile and delicious.

Truly.

Delicious.

You had almost forgotten how attracted you had been to his pheromones, but clearly your drenched panties hadn’t. You could even smell yourself from here. Also, your knees were killing you. Guess those years had an affect on your body after all, even if your brain had been subconsciously stuck on Jeon Jungkook.

The body always remembers.

To think you had said that just to be a smartass but Jungkook had unintentionally taken it seriously and it had turned out to be true all along.

A happy little accident.

You crawled up his body and he greeted you with kiss after fervent kiss. Somehow, he didn’t seem to mind that you had only just swallowed his cum. Then again, Jungkook would never beat the freak allegations. You were the only one making those allegations but, hey, you did know him best, even if neither you nor him knew that.

He unhooked your bra.

You slipped out of it, letting the black lace cups flop into the pile of his jeans, belt, and underwear on the floor. You were straddling his lap, knees on the bed, and he pulled you in deeper, giving you a moment to adjust. Stared into your eyes fiercely, the captured universes in those dark brown orbs glimmering with determination.

“Don’t look away,” he ordered. Not very sternly, but you smiled all the same, your arm around his shoulders, bare breasts and hard nipples right under his chin. Jungkook couldn’t intimidate you for shit. It was the big peepers, probably.

“Sure.”

He narrowed his eyes.

A stare down. Seconds saturated with anticipation. He raised his right hand, the two center fingers grouped together and the rest splayed out. Your smirk widened. Closer to you. Before he could say the words, open your mouth, your lips parted and you leaned in, swirling your tongue around his fingers, shifting your line of sight to admire the tattoos down his arm.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, stifling his awed moan.

Your eyes flickered back up to his face and you sucked on his fingers, directly looking at him. Even tilting your head and curving his fingertips down your throat, manipulating his movement with your tongue and your inner muscles. He shuddered, speechless at the arousing nature of this obscenity. You held yourself steady by splaying your fingers over his shoulder blades, letting him slowly thrust in and out of your mouth, the glossiness of your spit catching the low light.

“F-Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “You’re so sexy.”

You let your self-satisfied agreement show in the lowering of your lashes.

He grinned, noticing it right away, his expression pleased and frustrated all at once. Enjoyed the show for a few more moments and then pulled out. You held on until the very last second, releasing him with a wet, lewd pop. Loud in the silence of labored breathing and intense eye contact. His other hand at your waist nudged your ass. You lifted yourself up. His right hand slid between your legs, his two wet fingers grazing the edge of your dampened panties.

“You smell so damn good,” he murmured, looking down to bear witness. “I want it smeared all over me.”

“I told you you’re a freak.”

“Yeah, I am.”

You would have rolled your eyes at his now confession if it wasn’t for him hooking the edge of your panties and bunching them to the side while at the same time closing the distance between your chest and mouth, and suddenly you were clutching his head with both hands, gasping, tangling your fingers in his hair as he sucked on your nipple and sunk his two fingers into your wet pussy.

Jungkook wouldn’t give it to you if he thought you couldn’t take it.

Your back arched reflexively, thrusting your chest into his face, and your hips rolled, thrusting his two wetted fingers into you. He got the hint, following your body rhythm, deep and rough, making the visceral pleasure spiral in your tightened core. Of course, you had sex after Jungkook. Shitty sex, subpar sex, better than average sex, mind-numbing sex. But it had always come at the price of your own expertise. It was never about how well they matched you, because they never did. They never had the time to. But not Jungkook.

His body remembered.

Your breathing deepened and he increased the pace, the fervor, switching sides of your chest and catching your hard nipple between his teeth. Pressing his tongue tip into it, rubbing forcefully and then sucking. Lips and then tongue, back and forth, thrusting up into you, and you gave in, locking your hips to take the wanted abuse, letting the rising orgasm take command. Blood roaring in your veins, heartbeat at your throat, hard, fast, intense, your tense thighs trembling, tipping your head back.

Closing your eyes.

Moaning his name.

You pulled on his hair, hard.

Jungkook whined under you but he didn’t let go. Mouth too busy to speak. The declaration tumbled out of your open mouth.

“Close… fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

The constricted strain in your chest burst, and you threw you head back and sighed, low and wanton, prickling nerves racing up and across your back. Your inner walls pulsating. The heavy, sweet scent of your climax hit you first, soaking Jungkook’s hand, sticking to the insides of your thighs, and then uncontrollable shivers overtook your hips, gasping as his mouth left your chest, the abrupt loss of heat leaving your nipple cold. He moaned with you, his fingers buried into your spasming pussy, enjoying every second of feeling your orgasm, his thumb closing in to press down on your throbbing, slick clit.

You sucked in a sharp inhale.

He held it there, only adding pressure to the hyper sensitive nerves, letting your ride out your orgasm with your hands still gripping his head. You could feel the afterglow flutter in your lungs. Slow and deep shaking breaths.

Damn.

“You’re still the best at fingering me,” you gasped.

You lowered your head and he chuckled faintly. Mischief sparkling in his dark brown eyes under messy black strands. “Good.” Sounded and looked very proud of himself.

Fuck, you waned to kiss him so bad.

So you did.

Again and again.

With Jungkook, it was easy. With Jungkook, there was never a question. You had just questioned it because you had thought it was the right thing to do. He had questioned it because he had been afraid. You hadn’t understood it and neither had he. Nobody did. But that didn’t matter, because as naturally as the wind blew, so did you and Jungkook tumble to the bed, him licking off your juices on his fingers and groaning, savoring your flavor. Hands all over each other, recalling all his erogenous zones and listening to his sounds again, your heartbeat racing at the pitch in his deep tone, the desperation in the call of your name.

You felt him cup your pussy and smear your juices all over his palm.

Glanced down and saw him grip his half-hard cock with his now-wet hand, moaning into your ear, heating your skin with his need.

You tilted your head more.

His lips found the pocket right under your earlobe.

You sat down on his raised thigh and rubbed yourself against his flexed muscle as he jacked himself off, sparks flying throughout your body, from his mouth attached to your skin and the hardness between your legs, watching him pleasure himself below you. The wet and slick quality of your previous orgasm increased the friction, and you tilted your hips forward a little more, angling the pressure to your clit, fuck, grasping the pillow under Jungkook’s head so tight that you felt your knuckles strain. Intense made more intense by his teeth. His tongue. His lips. Dancing around your ear, catching the curve, biting down, his lustful groan muffled in his throat.

Closer.

You knew.

He knew.

Jungkook snapped back and ground his teeth, whining in his chest, gripping his cock covered in your cum and his pre-cum beading at the purple-red tip. You also froze, clenching your jaw as the climb to release was cut off, sending your body into an intense array of emotions. Want. Greed. Voraciousness. The edging radiated throughout your veins, primal need pleading you to keep going, but every second wasted was another layer, threatening to amplify the next orgasm.

Which was exactly what you and Jungkook wanted.

He didn’t have to ask you what your favorite position was. He liked them all, of course, for different reasons. Doggy for the view. One leg against his chest for something to hold onto while having some room to move. Regular missionary to hold your face and kiss you in between thrusts.

But.

The condoms were on your bedside table. It took him no time at all to rip one open and roll in down, groaning at the sight of you lifting your legs up to your chest, spreading your wet pussy and tight ass for him to see. His voice was low and hoarse from exertion, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind, scooting himself forward to pin your thighs down with his chest, positioning himself right in front of your entrance.

“I fucking love that view,” he heatedly breathed out.

You grinned. “I know.”

Slowly.

Jungkook folded you in half, trapping your body between his chest and mattress and sank into you, locking eyes at the same time.

His favorite position was one and the same with yours.

“Ugh, you feel so fucking good,” he swore, stopping when he was buried balls deep, his cock twitching inside you. You appreciated it.

“Take it slow,” you hummed, nonchalantly.

Well.

A muscle in his cheek twitched. His long bangs were all over his face but you couldn’t miss his death stare. Jungkook mouthed, fuck you, and you mouthed back, you are, before lifting himself to grip your calves, pushing your thighs down onto your ribs. He slowly and deliberately thrust into you. Taunting you to balk under his stare, but you did not, rising to the occasion. Literally. Your ass raised off the mattress as he snapped his hips in and he groaned deeply, clenching his jaw as your pussy squeezed him all over.

He didn’t look away, but he was warning you.

He slid out again. Then back in.

You did it again.

He growled and slammed his hard length back into you, dropping down. His palms smacked down onto the mattress and he bent over even more to hit that wicked depth, resulting in instant ecstasy radiating through your weighted lungs. You matched his ferocity. Your arms over your head and pushing back against the headboard, and he pounded you. Hard and intense and each collision knocking the wind out of your lungs, this is it, losing yourself to him, him losing himself to you, letting the carnal instinct take over. The rhythmic slap of hips to hips, wetness, drenched in your sex and his sweat. Every so often in the madness, you caught a glimpse of his gaze, fucked-out and craving more, and you saw your reflection in his eyes.

Mirroring him.

Your breath stilled in your throat.

The compounding sensations built and your body didn’t stop reacting. Time slowed down and seemed fast all at once, this is love, something your tried so hard to understand but screw it, fuck understanding and fuck believing in it, reaching up and curling your hand around Jungkook head, forcing him down lower, his heavy breath washing over you, his eyes closing as you gripped his hair and tugged, breathlessly moaning with him at the sight of his visceral pleasure, the sound, the pace, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

For as long as he loved you, your heart would love him back, no matter what your thoughts said.

“Not yet,” you gasped. “I’m close.”

“Fuck me, I’m gonna burst,” he whined, digging his palms in, slamming his hips into you and you saw Jungkook bite the side of his lower lip, suddenly silent, focusing hard, his sweaty black hair sticking to his forehead. He always went quiet when he didn’t want to cum too fast.

You wanted to torture him a little but the edging had brought you too close.

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Your head snapped back into the pillows and his fell back, the wanton sound of your joined moans loud and shameless, echoing throughout your bedroom as you came hard, tensing your entire body and feeling your pussy clamp down onto his jerking cock pumping the condom full of cum. The lack of sufficient air, the whirlwind of release, the closeness and a drop his sweat on your tongue, and you shuddered, clinging onto him as wave after wave crashed into you, each throb pulsing between your legs reaching him as well, burning you both in each sharp pang of erotic euphoria.

You heard him exhale your name, erratic and rough.

Thudding heartbeat revibrating against the base of your neck.

“Get…”

You felt his heat retreat, lowering your legs carefully.

“Get on your knees,” Jungkook panted.

You almost pointed out that this was your bed and not a hotel, these cum-covered sheets are going to have to be slept on because I’m not doing laundry in the dead of night, but either your body moved faster than your brain or you didn’t give a flying fuck. Or both. You turned and springboarded off your folded right arm, still on the searing high of adrenaline and the furious pulse between your legs. You heard him rip open another condom and gasp again at seeing your cheek pressed to the pillows, your chest against the bed, arching your back to raise your ass and spread open your holes for him to see.

“You’re so fucking hot, fuck.”

You flexed your pussy. It made an audible, wet sound, startling you slightly. It didn’t deter Jungkook the least. In fact, he grabbed your ass and dragged you down to him, groaning as he thrust into you again, immediately starting up from where he left off. You shoved your hands into the mattress and flicked your head, tossing back your hair and finally getting some air, breathless at his girth and strength.

Not that any of that stopped you from smacking your ass back into him.

“Fuck!”

It was becoming a favorite word.

Probably your fault.

Well, fuck.

You steeled your core and dropped your shoulders, spreading your knees a little more. By the depth of his groan and the increased ferocity of his thrusts, you knew you had reached that perfect angle, sighing out in satisfaction as you felt the repeated pressure hitting you just right, right there, fuck, yes, Jungkook, closing your eyes to burn in the desire, higher and higher, deep and hard and chasing the same height at the same fierce pace, feeling your heartbeat slam strongly in your chest.

The swell.

The echo.

The unison.

The way the sparks raced up and down your spine. Breaths drifting out, rapid and shallow, noticing his strained grunts and muted moans once again, smiling, then focusing, squeezing him tighter, your shivering walls massaging his cock. Admired how perfectly he fit inside you, almost to the brink of discomfort, seamless, your pussy pulling him in hungrily with each snap of his hips. His fingers dug into your ass and you savored that too, all of it, not taking a single second for granted, letting yourself become overstimulated in the multiple sensations.

Jungkook’s gravelly voice choked out your name.

The frantic edge indicating he was almost done for.

Before you could respond, your head jerked back and your eyes rolled up, the high nearly alarming, depraved moan falling from your lips as the power of the orgasm seized your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. It was almost too much. You would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s firm hold on you, gasping as he came. His hips twitched against your ass, pressed as deep into you as possible.

You moaned as his fingernails suddenly clawed down your lower back, heightening the peak of pleasure.

So good you couldn’t speak.

There were no words.

You could barely comprehend it anyway. There was no describing how different this sex was from all the others. You had known it once, but it even better now, afterglow radiating off of you, each nerve brimming with ecstasy, letting out a gratified exhale as his body leaned against your back, his hands sliding up your stomach and to your chest, squeezing your breasts and lightly toying with your nipples.

His lips pressed to your upper back, feathering you with a meteor shower of kisses.

Your torso shook, trying to come down but suspended. You didn’t resist him, clutching the rumpled sheets, sighing softly at the thrumming beat of heart-to-heart, his cock still inside you. Getting soft and probably against his will. He groaned, sounding annoyed.

“You know there’s always tomorrow, right?” you chuckled, inhaling and catching a whiff of his cologne on your bed.

The imprint of him already.

“I think it’s already tomorrow,” Jungkook grumbled, grunting as he held down the base of the condom and pulled out.

Well, he had always been here, at the back of your mind, never forgotten.

“I’ve got more in me,” he vented sternly, although you suspected that wasn’t really directed at you. You hadn’t faced him yet but if you turned around you were be quite sure that you would be greeted by the pleasant and entertaining sight of Jungkook glaring at his limp, overworked dick. And yet. You didn’t. Instead, you looked up. The window was within your line of sight.

The night sky up above, but the moon was right here, in the magic of this room.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

Right?

“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” you breathed to the sky, wishing the dream to life to the stars you couldn’t see.

Silence.

You turned your head, past the moon-shaped lamp across the room, past walls and everyday things, past the clothes scattered everywhere, and Jungkook was blinking at you, startled for a moment, big brown eyes wide, lips parted. Piercings. Tattoos.

Years on years.

“Anything for you,” he breathed back, staring straight into your eyes.

Still the same.

“Really. I will always stay by your side.”

He climbed back onto the bed. Over you. Skin to skin. Leaning down. Kiss after kiss, meaning more than raw passion, and you felt the wetness on your face. Drop after drop, fallen stars, and Jungkook brushed him away from his thumbs and his smile, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to, noona, I’m stuck on you, forever after, and you didn’t want to cry, no more, your arms around his torso, pulling him closer, gripping his shoulders, shuddering at the foreignness of expressing emotion.

“Are we…?”

Your voice was so small but he was so close, so close, his hands in your hair, forehead to forehead.

“Are we falling in love?” you whispered, staring into his eyes and finding the stars.

And now you could see that he, too, finally found the stars he had been looking for all this time.

Jungkook smiled.

“Yes.”

Crisp and intense, this peppermint gum love where every day was the rush of falling in love more and more, forever after making memories so this feeling could never fade away.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

407 notes · View notes