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jincapableoflove · 4 months ago

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The Grumpy Girlfriend Protection Program | One-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre: sunshine bf x grumpy gf, golden retriever! jungkook, black cat! reader, office worker! reader, veterinary student! jungkook, fluff, comedy, thriller, mystery (slight), action, angst.

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has always been the sunshine in every room; warm, kind, and completely oblivious to danger. Luckily, you, his grumpy, overprotective girlfriend have made it your personal mission to keep him safe. But when the threat shifts to you instead, Jungkook proves that even sunshine can scorch, and for you, he’d burn.

Word count: 22.8k+

Warnings: reader is very protective, themes of stalking and obsession, usage of drugs (not reader or jungkook), fight scene, violence, multiple flashback scenes.

MOODBOARD

A/N: hugeeee thanks to my dear friend sy (@btswit7 ) for going through my fic and suggesting edits! ilysm. sorry this took so long for me to write. i swearrr this fic was supposed to be fluffy, cute and around 10k words but I got carried away 😔 (not sorry for that). i might've absolutely butchered the tattoo shop scene pls forgive me (I've never been to a tattoo shop before idk how it works) this is also my first time writing an action scene it prolly sucks but wtv.

The sun hung high in the cloudless sky, casting a golden glow over the city. A gentle breeze drifted through the streets, the warmth of the morning wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, just the right kind of day that practically demanded an escape from the ordinary. And what better way to spend it than sprawled out on a checkered blanket, a basket full of food beside you, and your ever-so-enthusiastic boyfriend, Jungkook, grinning at you like this was the best idea in the world?

That’s right. It was picnic day. After a gruelling week at work, all you wanted was to stay in bed, sleep until the afternoon, have a late lunch, and then (ideally) go right back to sleep. But Jungkook, being the ever-optimistic, early-rising, productivity-loving man that he was, thought weekends were best spent on morning picnic dates at whatever random park he had decided on that week.

There was nothing you hated more than disappointing your sweet boyfriend, so cancelling the picnic dates altogether wasn’t an option. After extensive negotiations (read: you groggily whining while he laughed and refused to budge), you managed to compromise—morning breakfast dates became brunch dates. Because let’s be real, every extra second of sleep counts.

On the way to your picnic, you were stopped by a teenage boy, probably 17 or 18, who practically shoved a clipboard into your faces. With the practised enthusiasm of a seasoned salesman, he introduced himself, flashing a grin as he extended a hand in greeting. Then came the pitch.

“Donations for a local animal shelter,” he announced, voice laced with urgency. A shelter you had never heard of.

“The puppies and bunnies are all sick, sir, and the kittens are underfed,” he continued, his face contorting with the sheer heartbreak of it all. The kind of expression that would probably work on unsuspecting souls. Jungkook, being Jungkook, was already pulling out his wallet. And you were having none of it.

Before he could hand over a single bill, you yanked the wallet straight out of his hands. Jungkook blinked at you, stunned.

“Did you even check if it’s a real shelter?” you asked, unimpressed.

Jungkook glanced at the boy, then back at you. “Looks pretty real to me.” You sighed, taking a look at the "official website" the scammer eagerly pulled up on his phone. One glance was all it took.

“That’s a Wix template, you dumbass,” you deadpanned, shooting Jungkook a look. And to drive your point home, you dialled the actual shelter’s number. A moment of silence.

Then, like clockwork, the boy’s phone started ringing. The scammer stiffened, eyes wide with panic. And then, without as much as another word, he bolted down the street before you could report him to someone.

Jungkook pouted, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. You rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe you almost fell for that.”

“One of these days,” he muttered, crossing his arms, “you’re gonna stop me from donating to a real shelter.” You snorted, nudging his shoulder as you started walking again. “Yeah, well, until that day comes, I’ll keep saving you from getting scammed by guys who probably spent five minutes on Google slapping together a fake charity.”

Jungkook huffed, kicking a loose pebble down the sidewalk. “He had a clipboard. People with clipboards always seem legit.”

“Oh, right, because clipboards are the universal sign of trustworthiness,” you deadpanned. “Next time, I’ll be sure to scam you with one myself.”

He shot you a playful glare. “I’d see through you in a second.” You smirked. “Would you, though?”

Jungkook opened his mouth, then shut it again, squinting at you like he wasn’t entirely convinced. You just grinned, patting his arm. “Exactly.”

You sit cross-legged on the checkered blanket, arms crossed, watching as Jungkook digs through the picnic basket like a child on Christmas morning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, pulling out sandwiches, fruit, and what looks like an obnoxiously yellow thermos you don’t remember packing.

You squint. “Did you sneak in banana milk?”

Jungkook pauses, looking entirely unrepentant. “No.” You stare. He stares back. The thermos stares between you, the undeniable evidence of his crime.

Finally, he grins. “Okay, maybe.”

You let out a slow exhale, reaching for one of the sandwiches while he happily pours himself a cup of his beloved banana milk.

“I don’t get how you function sometimes,” you mutter, unwrapping your food.

“I function beautifully,” he corrects, flashing you a smile that’s far too bright for someone who just lied to your face. “You’re just too grumpy to appreciate it.”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Because nothing screams ‘functioning adult’ like getting scammed five minutes before a picnic.” Jungkook gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “I was being charitable!”

“You were being a prime target,” you deadpan. He huffs dramatically, taking an exaggerated bite of his sandwich as if it’s the ultimate form of protest. Cheeks puffed out like a bunny, he mumbles through his mouthful, “You stress too much.”

You raise a brow. “I wonder why.” He ignores your sarcasm, swallowing before continuing, “Maybe if you—” He suddenly stops, mid-thought, his eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief.

Oh no. You’ve seen that look before. It never leads to anything good.

"You should feed me."

You nearly choke on your drink. Coughing, you set your cup down with a thud and blink at him. “What?” Jungkook leans forward, resting his chin in his palm with the most infuriatingly smug expression. “You know,” he drawls, wiggling his eyebrows, “since you like taking care of me so much.”

You stare at him, unamused. Then, without breaking eye contact, you take the smallest, most unimpressive bite of your sandwich—just to spite him.

Jungkook groans, slumping back. “You’re no fun.”

“You knew that when you fell in love with me.”

His lips curve into something thoughtful, eyes flickering over your face like he’s considering something. Then, in one swift motion, he reaches over and swipes a strawberry from your plate, popping it into his mouth before you can react.

You gasp. “Jungkook!”

He grins, entirely unapologetic. “Yeah, but I like a challenge.” Without hesitation, you swat his hand, aiming for another grab. He yelps, laughing too hard for someone who just got smacked, dodging your next attempt with the reflexes of a seasoned strawberry thief.

"Unbelievable," you mutter, shaking your head. "A menace to society."

Jungkook only grins wider. "And yet, you still love me."

And just like that, it’s the both of you, bickering, teasing, him being too soft, and you pretending you don’t secretly like it. Despite everything, you’re glad he dragged you here. Because for all his nonsense, for all the chaos he brings into your life, Jungkook makes the world a little brighter.

You hated Monday mornings with a burning passion. If you walked into work and saw someone being all cheerful and optimistic, you’d have the overwhelming urge to dump ice-cold coffee over their head, just to make their day as miserable as yours. Of course, you wouldn’t actually act on that particular intrusive thought. Not unless you had a sudden desire to get fired.

Every day, it was the same soul-sucking routine. Log into your computer, answer emails, prepare for meetings, and trudge through an endless list of mind-numbing tasks that make you question all your life choices. You were staring blankly at your screen, fingers moving mechanically as you typed up a report when your phone buzzed.

Kook 🐰💜 [11:10 AM]: Miss me yet?

Your fingers pause on the keyboard. Buzz.

Kook 🐰💜[11:10 AM]: Or are you too busy being all serious and grumpy at work? Kook 🐰💜[11:11 AM]: Bet you’re smiling right now, though.

You bite your lip. You are not smiling. Absolutely not.

“Okay, what is that face?”

Jimin’s voice cuts through your concentration like a knife. You snap your head up to find him leaning against your desk, arms crossed, a knowing smirk already in place.

“There is no face,” you say quickly, locking your phone screen and shoving it away. Jimin gasps dramatically. “Oh my God, it’s him, isn’t it?”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “I swear to—”

“Ohhh, it totally is!” Jimin snatches your phone before you can react, scrolling through the notifications like he has every right to be nosy.

If there’s one person who never lets you live in peace, it’s Jimin. Coworker, best friend, professional pain in your ass, he’s all of the above, wrapped in a smug little package. You first met him when you started this job, and somehow, between the forced team projects, shared complaints about the boss, and mutual hatred for monday mornings, you ended up stuck with him for life. Not that you’d ever admit you’re grateful for it.

Unfortunately, he knows it anyway.

“Jimin, I will end you.”

But it’s too late. He’s already grinning like the devil himself. “Look at you. Getting all giddy over a text. My, my, how the mighty have fallen.”

“I’m not giddy.”

“Oh, you absolutely are.” He mimics your earlier expression, clutching his phone to his chest with a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Jungkook, my sweet precious sunshine, text me more. I can’t possibly get through this workday without knowing you’re thinking about me.”

You throw a stapler at him.

He dodges effortlessly, laughing. “Relax, lover girl. It’s cute. Gross, but cute.” You huff, snatching your phone back. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Jimin plops down in the chair next to you, still smirking. “Now tell me, what’s golden boy up to?”

You hesitate. But your phone buzzes again.

Kook 🐰💜 [11:13 AM]: Hey. Don’t overwork yourself. I’ll call you later, okay?

You stare at the screen for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you eventually settle on a simple reply.

You [11:14 AM: Okay.

…Okay, maybe you are smiling a little.

Jimin sees it immediately. And you already know you’re never going to hear the end of it.

The moment you step into the break room—finally free from Jimin’s relentless smirking, you let out a breath and pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent calls before dialling Jungkook. It barely rings twice before he picks up, his voice warm and teasing, like he already knew you’d call.

“Hey, baby,” he greets smoothly, amusement lacing his tone. “Miss me already?”

You roll your eyes, setting your lunchbox on the table with a thud. “In your dreams, Jeon.”

Flipping open the lid, the rich, savoury aroma of bibimbap immediately washes over you. The vibrant colors of the ingredients are neatly arranged, looking almost too perfect to eat—almost. You can tell Jungkook took his time making it, carefully placing each topping exactly where it should be, ensuring it looked as good as it tasted.

Your heart does something traitorous in your chest, but you ignore it. Jungkook chuckles at your silence, clearly pleased with himself. “I assume this is your way of telling me my cooking is amazing?”

“Not even close,” you say, grabbing your chopsticks. “Jimin wouldn’t shut up about you, so I figured I’d call and annoy you instead.” A deep, rumbling laugh comes through the speaker, the sound sending warmth curling through your stomach. “Mhm. Sure, love. You could’ve just admitted you wanted to hear my voice.”

Your eye twitches. “That’s not—”

“Shh, no need to be shy. I won’t judge.” You groan, tilting your head back against the chair, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. He’s impossible, and worse, he knows it.

“Whatever,” you mutter. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Mmm.” There’s some shuffling on his end, followed by the faint rustling of sheets like he’s lying down and getting comfortable. “I was thinking… instead of our usual park picnic, you could come with me to get my sleeve reworked.” That makes you pause, chopsticks hovering mid-air. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice a little more casual. “It’s been a while, and I wanna touch up some parts. Maybe add something new.”

You lean back in your chair, considering it. You’ve seen his tattoos up close plenty of times—traced them absentmindedly, let your fingers follow the inked lines whenever he had an arm wrapped around you. There’s something mesmerizing about them, the way they flow seamlessly over his skin, each design an intricate part of him.

You definitely wouldn’t mind watching the process.

“That’s fine with me,” you say after a beat. Then, under your breath, you mumble, “But if the artist messes up, I’m fighting them.” Jungkook snorts. “Of course you will.” His voice takes on that teasing lilt that makes you want to reach through the phone and flick his forehead. “You’re so cute when you get all protective.”

Your face heats up instantly. “Oh my god, eat your lunch.”

“I will. But only if you say you love me first.” You nearly choke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His grin is obvious, even through the phone. “Say it, and I’ll go eat.” You huff, glancing around the empty break room just to make sure no one’s around. Then, in the lowest possible whisper, you mumble, “…Love you.”

A beat of silence.

And then, even quieter, “Love your bibimbap too.”

Jungkook hums, unreasonably satisfied. “Love you too, baby. Now go eat before Jimin catches you blushing.” Your eyes widen, and you hang up immediately.

Unfortunately, when you turn around, Jimin is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking far too smug for your liking.

“So,” he drawls, tilting his head. “How’s Jungkook?” You groan, slamming your head onto the table. You are never going to live this down.

Jimin’s laughter echoes in the room, pure evil.

Jungkook’s apartment is the kind of place that makes it dangerously easy to never leave. It’s cozy with warm lighting, soft blankets draped over the couch, and the faint scent of vanilla and fabric softener lingering in the air. You tell yourself that’s the main reason you always find yourself here instead of your own place, but, if you were being completely honest, there are a few other factors at play.

For one, his snack collection is legendary. His kitchen cabinets are stocked with an endless supply of goodies, including a lifetime’s worth of Twinkies, your weakness. And then there’s Jungkook himself, but you’re not about to admit that. Especially not to him.

Curled up on his couch, you lazily flip through his Netflix, eyes scanning titles without really registering any of them. The ambient noise of the apartment, the hum of the heater, the occasional rustling of pages from Jungkook’s workspace, only adds to the drowsy comfort settling over you. Just as you’re about to give up on finding something to watch, Jungkook suddenly plops down beside you, sketchbook in hand.

The cushion dips under his weight, and you barely manage to suppress a startled flinch. He doesn’t say anything at first, just leans back against the couch with a content sigh, flipping the sketchbook open across his lap. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, curiosity piqued despite yourself. "Okay," he says, grinning as he settles beside you on the couch. His fingers drum against the edge of his sketchbook before he flips it open, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "Wanna see what I’ve been working on?"

You nod, humming in interest. "Mhm. Sure."

The moment the pages spread out before you, your breath catches. Intricate designs fill the book, some half-finished, others shaded to perfection. There are fine, precise lines, bold strokes, and an almost obsessive attention to detail in every drawing. You can tell he's poured hours into this, into crafting something that isn’t just art but a reflection of himself.

"Damn," you murmur, fingertips tracing lightly over the paper. "You did all these?" Jungkook grins, his dimples making an appearance. "Yup," he says, clearly pleased with your reaction.

You take your time flipping through the pages. There’s a sketch of a skeletal hand doing the rock on sign, a detailed microphone showcasing his love for music, lyrics from his favorite songs inked in elegant script, and the word Bulletproof scrawled in a graffiti style, right beneath it, a note written in his unmistakable handwriting: cover-up for eye tattoo. And then, sitting proudly in between these edgy, personal pieces, is a woozy face emoji.

You huff out a small laugh. His tattoo ideas range from deeply meaningful to outright ridiculous.

But then you pause. Nestled between his designs is a rework of his tiger lily tattoo—his birth flower. But entwined around it, curling gracefully between the petals, is another flower. Chrysanthemums.

Your birth flower.

The realization sinks in, slow and warm. Jungkook goes still beside you, barely breathing. You don’t miss the way his fingers twitch, or the way his ears turn bright red when he realizes that you understood. Then, like a man caught in the act he snatches the sketchbook away, snapping it shut so fast you barely have time to process it.

"Aha—! Anyway—" He clears his throat, ears burning. "That one wasn’t, uh—I wasn’t supposed to show you that yet."

Your lips twitch. "Mhm. Jeon, I see what you did there."

"What?" he says too quickly. "It’s just, you know, it looked nice with the lilies." His voice cracks. You arch a brow. "Looks nice? That’s all?" Jungkook nods a little too fast. "Yeah. No big deal."

You don’t believe him for a second.

So, naturally, you lean in, lowering your voice just enough to watch him squirm."You sure about that, baby?"

Jungkook.exe has stopped working.

With a groan, he buries his burning face into your shoulder, mumbling something incoherent against your sweater. You laugh, warmth blooming in your chest, fingers threading absentmindedly through his hair. Yeah. No big deal.

The weekend sun was just beginning to climb when Jungkook pulled up outside your place, the low hum of his car engine a familiar sound by now. You barely had time to lock your door before he leaned over, effortlessly pushing the passenger door open with that usual bright grin of his. “Morning, baby,” he greeted, fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. Without missing a beat, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek—warm, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You sleep well?”

You slid into the seat, closing the door behind you with a huff, eyes narrowing at him. “No, because someone was blowing up my phone with memes and ‘fun facts’ about toxic tattoo inks at two in the morning.” Jungkook had the audacity to look proud. “I just thought you should know! What if they use cheap ink, huh? Gotta protect this masterpiece.” He gestured vaguely at his arm, where his tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt.

You sighed, clicking your seatbelt into place. “Just drive.”

As he shifted gears and pulled onto the road, you let your gaze wander around the car, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne, the faint hum of the engine, and the steady rhythm of the music playing low through the speakers. His hand, warm and absentminded, found its usual place on your thigh like it belonged there, thumb tracing gentle patterns against your skin. It was peaceful. The kind of easy, comfortable silence that only came from knowing someone so well.

But then, something caught your attention.

Your eyes drifted to the backseat, where his sketchbook sat, slightly ajar as if hastily tossed there. A few loose sheets stuck out from the pages, filled with the intricate designs you’d seen before. You reached for it instinctively, but before you could grab it, the scenery outside made you pause.

“...Wait.” Your brows furrowed as you looked out the window. The streets weren’t familiar, the route different from what you expected. You turned back to him. “This isn’t the way to your usual place.” Jungkook hummed, like he’d been waiting for you to notice. “We’re trying a new one today.”

You turned to him, suspicious. “Why?”

His grin widened, full of mischief. “Jin got a job there.” That took you a second to process. “Seokjin?”

“My cousin, yeah.” Jungkook drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “He’s a receptionist now. Lured me in with staff discounts.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “So, let me get this straight—he got a job there yesterday, and today you’re already showing up to cash in?” Jungkook gasped, all faux offense, clutching his chest as if you’d just wounded him. “I would never use my dear cousin like that.”

You gave him a deadpan look.

His lips twitched, the act crumbling instantly. “…Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted, flashing you a boyish grin. “But hey, cheaper tattoos, and I get to support my hyung? Win-win.” You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the amused smile pulling at your lips. “Does he even know we’re coming?”

“He does,” Jungkook replied, his grin not fading. “He actually told me to wait for him before I get started with the consultation.”

And that’s how you and Jungkook ended up stuck in the lobby of the tattoo shop, waiting for over thirty minutes for Jin to show up.

Jungkook exhaled loudly, rolling his shoulders before pulling out his phone and dialing Jin for the sixth time. His other hand absentmindedly tugged you closer by the wrist, a small, unconscious habit of his whenever he was growing impatient. “Jin said he’d be here soon,” he muttered, eyes flickering to the entrance yet again, as if willing his cousin to walk through the door. “Told me to get comfy and wait.”

You smirked, shifting slightly in your seat. “He did? So, naturally, he’s gonna be late.” Jungkook groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “He promised, okay? Swore he wouldn’t ditch me this time.”

“That’s cute.” You patted his thigh mockingly. “You still believe him.” Jungkook shot you a halfhearted glare before flicking his gaze to the empty reception area for what had to be the hundredth time. His foot bounced impatiently against the floor, but before he could make another complaint, the sound of a door opening drew both of your attention.

A woman with sleek, silver-dyed hair emerged from one of the back rooms, her sharp gaze scanning the lobby before landing directly on Jungkook. Her expression immediately shifted into a perfected customer-service smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. “What are you here for?”

“Sleeve rework,” he replied casually, rolling his shoulder as if to emphasize the ink beneath his sleeve. “You’re the one getting the sleeve reworked?” she asked smoothly, completely ignoring your presence. “Seokjin’s cousin, right?

Jungkook nodded, his own expression polite but confused. “Yeah, but he isn’t here yet. Jin told me to wai—”

“Oh,” she cut in, her lips curving just slightly, a little too knowing. “Well, that’s okay. I’m sure he would’ve referred you to me anyway. I could start taking care of you now.”

Something about the way she said it made your jaw clench.

Jungkook, oblivious as ever, only hummed. “Uh, I mean… I guess we could start the consultation?”

You didn’t like the way she was looking at him.

As she moved closer, the glow of the overhead light caught on her name tag—Nari. The name meant nothing to you, but something about her demeanor put you on edge.

Jungkook settled into the chair, stretching his arm out as Nari prepped her station. You remained seated across from him, phone in hand, pretending to scroll while keeping a close eye on the exchange. Nari pulled on a pair of gloves, her movements fluid and practiced as she leaned in, examining Jungkook’s inked skin. “Your ink is solid,” she murmured, fingers ghosting over the intricate designs. “Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”

Jungkook grinned, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Yeah, my old artist was great. Just wanted some refinements, you know?”

“Mm,” Nari hummed in agreement, grabbing a marker to outline a few areas. Her gaze lingered on his arm longer than necessary, her lips curving slightly. “You’re adding new work too, right?”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, just some floral details around the tiger lily.”

That was supposed to be the end of it. But then Nari tilted her head, eyes flickering up to his face before dropping back to his arm, and subtly, but not subtly enough she licked her lips.

“I love doing florals on guys,” she said, voice dipping into something softer. “There’s just something about the contrast, you know?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. Jungkook, completely unaware of the shift in tone, simply lifted his arm to show her the faded edges. “Yeah, I wanted to add some chrysanthe—”

Before he could even finish, Nari reached out, fingers wrapping around his arm, her touch lingering.

“Oh, your skin is so nice,” she murmured, smoothing her fingers over the defined muscle as if she were admiring it rather than prepping it for work. Your eye twitched.

Jungkook blinked, a little startled by the comment but still too polite to pull away. “Uh… thanks?” Nari only smiled, nails grazing his forearm ever so slightly as she adjusted his position. “Good canvas makes all the difference.”

You swore you could hear your patience snapping like a twig. Jungkook looked slightly uncomfortable but still handed over his sketchbook, flipping to the page with his design. “This is what I had in mind for the rework,” he said, tapping the paper.

Nari barely glanced at the intricate details before tilting her head, her gaze flickering back to him instead. “You drew this yourself?”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah.”

“Wow,” she hummed, leaning in slightly, the corner of her lips quirking up. “That’s impressive. Not many clients walk in with this level of detail.” From where you sat, you rested your chin on your hand, unimpressed.

Jungkook offered a small, polite smile. “I just like having a clear idea before I commit.” Nari's smirk deepened. “That’s really attractive,” she mused, fingers skimming the edge of the sketchbook instead of actually turning the page. “A guy who’s artistic and decisive? Rare find.”

You blinked. What.

Jungkook cleared his throat, shifting in his seat like he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Uh… thanks?” Nari finally flipped to the next page—though at this point, it felt more like a courtesy than genuine interest. “And you did all of these?”

Jungkook nodded again. “Mhm.”

“That’s insane,” she gushed, dragging her fingers over the lines like they were worth framing. “You could easily be a tattoo artist yourself.” Jungkook chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think I have the patience for it.”

“That’s a shame,” Nari sighed, her fingers lingering a little too long on the sketchbook. “With hands like yours, I bet you’d be amazing at it.”

Your expression went flat. Jungkook just coughed into his fist, visibly flustered. “Uh—”

You snapped before you could stop yourself. “If you’re done with the consultation, I think you should get started with the sketching.” Your voice was even, but the words were clipped. “Unless this is just a fan club meeting now.”

That made Nari pause.

Jungkook turned to you, lips twitching as if he was trying not to laugh. Nari dared to send you a sharp glare, like you had just interrupted something sacred. But she grabbed a fineliner anyway, her movements slow and deliberate, as if making a point.

You didn’t waver. Arms crossed, you kept your gaze locked on her hands, watching every unnecessary adjustment she made—each one turning into soft, lingering touches against Jungkook’s skin. It was infuriating, the way her fingers skimmed his arm like she had every right to.

And then she bit her lip.

A coy smile played at the edges of her mouth, subtle but unmistakable. Jungkook, completely oblivious as always, remained relaxed in the chair, only wincing slightly when the cold surface of the fineliner pressed against his skin.

You were far from relaxed.

Shifting in your seat, you clenched your jaw, fingers curling against your arms. Maybe—maybe—she was just a touchy person. Maybe you were overanalyzing this. Maybe it was nothing.

“So,” Nari began, her voice light and conversational, “do all your tattoos have a meaning?” Jungkook, still staring at the ceiling like this was any other consultation, nodded. “Most of them, yeah.”

“What about this one?” She tapped the tiger lily, her fingertips trailing over the ink just a little too leisurely. Jungkook smiled, unaware of the way your patience was fraying. “That one represents passion, confidence… all that stuff. It’s also my birth flower”

Nari hummed, like she was committing that information to memory. “And the chrysanthemums?”

At this, Jungkook hesitated. For the first time, he flicked his gaze toward you, something unreadable passing through his eyes. Your posture stiffened, waiting. He cleared his throat. “They mean a lot to me.”

Nari tilted her head, expectant.

You leaned forward, expectant.

But Jungkook just chuckled lightly before answering, “They’re my girlfriend’s birth flower.” His tone was proud, almost smug, as if relishing the chance to say it out loud. A smirk tugged at your lips. That should be enough to shut this down, enough for her to finally get the message—

Except Nari barely reacted.

If anything, she just hummed again, dragging her eyes across his arm like she hadn’t even heard him. “Hm. Bet they’d look really pretty on you,” she mused, her tone as sweet as syrup. Then, without missing a beat, she added, “Then again, I bet a lot of things do.”

Your head snapped up. Jungkook tensed slightly but played it off with an awkward laugh. “Uh… thanks?”

Oh, hell no.

Maybe it was the way she said it. The way her voice dripped with something just a little too sweet, like she wasn’t just appreciating his tattoos but the person wearing them. Maybe it was the fact that her fingers were still lightly dragging along his forearm, slow and deliberate, like she had every right to touch him like that. Or maybe—just maybe—it was the fact that Jungkook, ever polite, ever oblivious, wasn’t saying anything to stop her. Either way, your patience is officially gone.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, voice smooth but sharp enough to cut. “So, is this your usual customer service?” you asked, tilting your head. “Or is my boyfriend just getting the VIP treatment?”

Nari barely spared you a glance. “Oh, don’t worry. I take very good care of my clients.” Your smile was saccharine, all teeth. “I bet you do.”

Jungkook shifted, fingers gripping the armrest as if bracing himself. “Baby—” You ignored him. “I thought professionalism was a basic requirement for tattoo artists. But I guess it’s optional here, huh?”

Nari’s smirk twitched, but she held her ground. “I’m just making conversation.”

“Right.” You nodded slowly, voice dripping with faux understanding. “Because flirting with your client while his girlfriend is sitting right here is so normal.”

Jungkook, bless his clueless heart, looked between the two of you like he’d just walked into a battlefield with no armor. His lips parted—he should say something, anything, should try to calm you down before things escalated, but the words never came.

Because truth be told, seeing you like this, so protective and so fierce was kind of hot.

Nari’s eyes narrowed, her confidence flickering just a little. “I wasn’t flirting.” You let out a mock gasp, pressing a hand over your chest in exaggerated horror. “Oh, my bad.” Your tone was syrupy, dripping with fake innocence. “I must have misheard when you basically drooled over my boyfriend while I was sitting right here.”

Nari let out a sharp huff, her irritation finally surfacing. She set the fineliner down with a little too much force, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and condescension. “Look, do you want me to finish this or not?”

You opened your mouth, already armed with a sharp retort—

“No.”

Jungkook’s voice cut through the air, calm but unwavering.

Nari blinked. “What?”

Jungkook rolled his shoulder back as he sat up straighter, his usual easygoing expression replaced with something unreadable. “I’ll get it done somewhere else.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Seriously? Just because she’s insecure?”

Oh. That did it. A slow, burning heat unfurled in your chest. The audacity, the sheer nerve to say something like that when she had been the one crossing every possible line. You barely registered standing up, only aware of the way your pulse pounded in your ears as you took a step forward.

“Excuse me?”

But before you could let loose, Jungkook was already moving. His hand found yours, his grip warm and steady as he gently pulled you back. “Let’s go,” he murmured, his voice low but insistent. Nari rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair like she couldn’t care less. “Your loss.” Jungkook didn’t bother responding. He just grabbed his jacket, intertwined his fingers with yours, and led you out of the shop without a single backward glance.

The second the door shut behind you, the tension that had been coiling in your muscles finally snapped.

“I swear—” you started, still fuming, but Jungkook sighed, squeezing your hand in his. “I know, baby,” he said, his voice softer now, the warmth of it cutting right through your frustration. “I know.”

You exhaled sharply. “She was touching you.” Jungkook let out a low chuckle, rubbing his temple. “I literally had no idea she was flirting.”

“You never do.”

That earned you a grin. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, leaning down just enough that his nose nearly brushed yours. His eyes locked onto yours with a familiar fondness. “But you do.” His voice was teasing, but there was something else there too. Something softer. Something that made your breath catch, just a little.

You scowled, but he just wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Jealous?” he teased. You scoffed.

His smile turned fond. “Cute.” You smacked his chest. “Shut up.”

Jungkook barely flinched at the hit, his grin only widening. He tightened his hold around your waist, pulling you in until there was hardly any space left between you. “That’s not a no,” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to make your stomach flutter. You narrowed your eyes, tilting your chin up defiantly. “I wasn’t jealous.”

Jungkook hummed, unconvinced. His fingers skimmed over the small of your back, the touch light but deliberate. “Mhm. Sure.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “She was unprofessional.”

“True.”

“And disrespectful.”

“Very.”

“And her eyeliner was uneven.”

Jungkook snorted, finally breaking into a full laugh. “Okay, now you’re just being mean.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but the way he was looking at you, like you were the most amusing thing in the world made your face heat up. His laughter faded into something softer, something unbearably fond. “You know you’re cute when you’re all worked up, right?”

You scowled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I said shut up.” Jungkook grinned, catching your hand with ease before lacing his fingers through yours. “Make me.”

Your breath hitched. His gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest second, and suddenly, the air between you shifted—

“You guys done with the tattoo already?”

A loud, familiar voice shattered the moment like glass hitting the pavement.

Both you and Jungkook turned your heads in unison, only to find Jin standing a few feet away, looking between the two of you with an expression far too amused for your liking. Jungkook groaned, running a hand down his face. “Hyung, seriously?”

Jin blinked. “What? I was just asking.” His gaze flickered over Jungkook’s arm, eyes narrowing as he took in the faint ink lines still marking his skin—the rough sketch of the tattoo, untouched by the needle. His brows furrowed.

“Wait. You didn’t actually get it done?”

Jungkook huffed, crossing his arms. “No. Because the tattooo artist was too busy flirting with me.”

Jin’s face twisted in confusion. “Huh?”

You, still somewhat bristling from the whole ordeal, rolled your eyes. “She was all over him. Barely even looked at his designs before trying to eye-fuck him.” JIn’s jaw dropped. “Wait, are you serious?”

Jungkook nodded, his expression flat. “Dead serious.” Jin winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I had no idea she was like that.”

At least he had the decency to look sorry.

Jin sighed, rubbing his temple dramatically. “Alright, fine. Since I unknowingly threw you both into the lion’s den, I owe you.” He clapped his hands together. “Lunch is on me.” Jungkook raised a brow. “You? Paying for food? Willingly?”

Jin scoffed. “I can be generous, you know.”

You snorted. “That’s new.”

Jin ignored you. “Come on, let’s eat. My treat. Think of it as compensation for the mess I accidentally dropped you into.”

Jungkook hummed, pretending to consider. “I mean… if you’re paying, I’m definitely ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “As if you wouldn’t do that anyway.”

Jungkook just grinned. “True.”

You laughed, your earlier irritation melting away. “Alright, fine. You’re forgiven. But only if I get to pick the place.” Jin groaned. “Why do I feel like I’m about to regret this?” Jungkook laced his fingers through yours, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Because you probably will.”

Jin sighed but motioned for you both to follow. “Hurry up before I change my mind.” With that, the three of you headed off, leaving the unpleasant encounter behind in favor of good food.

Nari leaned against the counter, arms folded tight as she glared out the shop’s large window. Outside, you stood near the curb, your gaze fixed on Jungkook and Jin as they chatted. You weren’t speaking, just watching with that quiet, unreadable expression. But somehow, that made Nari even angrier.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.

“What is?”

The question came lazily from the man who had just strolled up beside her. He shook out his wrists after finishing with his last client, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. His attention remained casual, uninterested until Nari gestured toward the window with a sharp tilt of her chin.

“Her.”

His eyes followed her gaze. His posture was still loose, still easygoing until he saw you. For the briefest moment, his entire body went rigid. His casual demeanor cracked, just slightly, before he smoothed it over with a slow smirk.

“Huh.”

Nari, oblivious to the shift, let out a scoff. “She threw a whole fit because I was being nice to her boyfriend. Completely embarrassed me in front of him and acted all possessive, like I was some kind of threat.” She tapped her nails against the counter, still glaring at you through the window. “And now, thanks to her little tantrum, he refuses to get his tattoo done here.”

The man hummed, tilting his head. “Jealous girlfriend type, huh?”

“Exactly.” Nari huffed before turning to him with a slow, calculating smile. “You’re good at handling people, right?” He lifted a brow. “Depends on what you mean by ‘handling.’”

She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Do you think you could… I don’t know, do something about her? Save Jungkook from her?” For a moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze flicked back toward the window, settling this time on Jungkook himself.

And just like that, his smirk thinned.

Jungkook stood beside Jin, hands in his pockets, his head tilted slightly as he listened to whatever Jin was rambling about. But every so often, his attention shifted to you. The way his fingers brushed absently over your back, the way his expression softened whenever he glanced your way, like keeping you close was second nature.

The man’s fingers curled into a fist. “Figures,” he muttered under his breath.

Nari frowned. “You know him?” A sharp exhale. A shake of his head. “Not personally. But I know of him.”

She perked up at that, her curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

His tongue ran over his teeth, jaw working as he leaned against the counter. When he spoke again, his smirk had returned but there was nothing amused about it. “Let’s just say… I have unfinished business with her.”

Nari blinked at that, lips parting slightly as she took in the underlying venom in his tone. Then, as if catching on, she let out a slow, delighted hum. “Well then,” she murmured, turning back to the window, watching you through narrowed eyes. “Wouldn’t it be fun to mess with her a little?”

His gaze never left you. He watched as Jungkook reached out, tugging the sleeve of your jacket into place with an unconscious sort of familiarity, the kind that spoke of years spent together.

The kind of familiarity that should have been his.

The corner of his lips lifted, the smirk sharpening into something colder. “Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was smooth and teasing, laced with something far more sinister.

“I’d love to.”

You groggily blink your eyes open, immediately regretting it as the soft glow of the morning filters through your curtains. Too bright. Too early. Too… awake. You bury your face into your pillow, grumbling incoherently, unwilling to leave the comforting warmth of your bed. It’s Sunday. A day meant for sleeping in, doing absolutely nothing, and ignoring all responsibilities.

Then, you feel it—the weight of an arm loosely draped over your waist, the warmth seeping through your thin shirt. Your sleep-addled brain takes a moment to process before it clicks. Jungkook.

Right. He stayed over last night.

A sleepy sigh escapes your lips as you shift slightly, pressing closer to his warmth. His scent lingers on your sheets, wrapping around you like a second blanket. You peek up, still half-asleep, and catch the sight of him lying beside you, propped up on one elbow, his phone held in his free hand. The soft glow of the screen illuminates his face, casting delicate shadows over his sharp jawline. He’s already awake, completely engrossed in whatever he’s scrolling through.

Too awake for your liking.

“Five more minutes,” you mumble sleepily, voice muffled against the pillow. Your words slur together, more of a plea than a statement, as you instinctively nuzzle into Jungkook’s chest, seeking warmth.

A deep chuckle rumbles from him, low and fond, the kind that makes your heart squeeze without permission. His arm tightens around you in response, fingers lazily tracing light circles against your back. “Five more minutes? Baby, you said that like… an hour ago.”

You don’t respond, only snuggling deeper into his embrace, fully intent on ignoring him. Jungkook exhales dramatically, an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. “You’re gonna sleep the whole day away.”

“That’s the plan.”

“You’re literally wasting the morning.”

“Mm,” you hum noncommittally. “Not wasting if I’m warm and comfortable.” Jungkook pokes your cheek, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he tries to stir you. “C’mon, let’s go out. We could get breakfast, maybe go on a walk—”

“No.” You blindly swat his hand away.

Jungkook groans, flopping onto his back in frustration. “Why did I fall for someone lazier than me?” You crack one eye open, just enough to see his pout. Smirking, you shift slightly and mumble into the pillow, “Because I’m cute.”

Jungkook huffs. “…I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point.”

Jungkook finally manages to wrangle you out of bed—a feat that takes a ridiculous amount of whining, bribing, and sheer force of will. He practically drags you across the apartment, his grip firm around your wrist, ignoring every single one of your grumbles and half-hearted protests.

“You are,” you mumble as he steers you into the kitchen, “the absolute worst.” Jungkook snorts, already rummaging through the cabinets for coffee beans. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to let you rot in bed for eternity?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook ignores you, expertly working the coffee machine like a man on a mission. You slump against the counter, still half-asleep, head lolling dramatically to the side as you watch him move around like an overly energetic golden retriever. Then, your phone buzzes on the counter. You lazily glance at the screen, skimming the weather forecast—

Rain incoming.

Your spine straightens, sleepiness vanishing in an instant as you whip your phone up to show Jungkook, shoving the screen in his face with an almost evil sort of glee. “Oh no~” you sing-song, tone dripping with faux disappointment. “Looks like we can’t go out.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he squints at the screen, reading the forecast. His expression quickly morphs from mild confusion to full-blown horror. “…It wasn’t supposed to rain today,” he says slowly, almost like he can will the reality away.

“Guess we have to stay in.” You sigh dramatically, clutching your chest like it pains you. “Damn. What a shame.”

Jungkook groans, slumping against the counter like his entire soul has left his body. His dreams of a fun, eventful day were shattered. “You’re lying,” he accuses weakly. “This is a personal attack.”

You shake your head, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I don’t control the weather, baby.”

Jungkook glares. “But if you could, you’d make it rain every day, wouldn’t you?” A smirk tugs at your lips. “Absolutely.”

Jungkook throws his head back with a dramatic, suffering groan, sliding down the counter like a man defeated. You watch him in amusement, lifting the coffee cup he had just made for himself and taking a slow, satisfied sip. The moment the taste hits your tongue, Jungkook’s entire body snaps upright.

He watches, utterly betrayed, as you lower the cup with a pleased hum.

“…Did you just steal my coffee?”

You blink at him, all innocence. “You made this for me, didn’t you?”

Jungkook scoffs, expression scandalized. “No! I made it for me!”

You shrug, taking another sip as you meet his glare with zero remorse. “Tastes great, babe. Thanks.”

Jungkook clutches his chest like you’ve personally wounded him. “You’re the actual worst.”

“And yet,” you hum, leaning against the counter with a satisfied smirk, “here you are, hopelessly in love with me.”

Jungkook stares at you for a long second, lips pursed. Then, without warning, he lunges. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you with ridiculous ease and tossing you over his shoulder.

“JUNGKOOK—”

“NOPE,” he interrupts, already marching towards the living room. “If I can’t have fun outside, I’m gonna make you suffer with me inside.” You kick your feet uselessly, fists pounding against his back as he effortlessly carries you away. “Put me down, you muscle bunny!”

Jungkook only laughs, completely unfazed, before spinning on his heel and tossing you onto the couch like you weigh nothing. You land with a soft ‘oof,’ bouncing slightly against the cushions as he flops down beside you, stretching out like a starfish. “You are so dramatic,” you grumble, attempting to shove him away with your foot.

Jungkook just grins, easily catching your ankle and tugging you closer instead. “And yet, you love me anyway.”

You huff, too lazy to argue.

Before you can protest further, he shifts, rolling onto his side and resting his head comfortably on your lap. His eyes flutter shut almost instantly, his breath evening out as he settles in like he belongs there. At first, you stiffen, but as the seconds pass, your fingers instinctively weave through his soft, dark hair. You barely even realize you’re doing it, the motion coming as naturally as breathing.

Jungkook hums at the feeling, half-conscious, but content. His face is completely relaxed and unguarded in a way that makes your chest ache. He looked so soft like this. So warm. So… safe. And something deep inside you just melts.

Your fingers slow, combing gently through the strands, nails lightly scratching his scalp. A soft scowl tugs at your lips. Because this? This is a version of Jungkook you’d fight the entire world to protect.

Jungkook must feel your gaze because, after a moment, he cracks one eye open and peeks up at you. “You’re staring,” he murmurs, voice still laced with sleep. You blink, quickly masking your expression with a huff. To cover up the warmth creeping up your neck, you flick his forehead. “Just making sure you’re still breathing.”

Jungkook snickers, stretching lazily. “Aww, are you worried about me?”

You cross your arms, unimpressed. “Obviously. You’re fragile.”

Jungkook immediately bursts out laughing, full-bodied and carefree, his entire frame shaking against your lap. “Me? Fragile? Baby, I could bench press you.”

You roll your eyes, completely unfazed. “Yeah, well, I could stab someone for you.”

Jungkook’s laughter dies instantly. His eyes widen slightly, blinking up at you as if processing your words. Then, ever so slowly, a grin spreads across his face.

“…Okay, that’s really hot.”

You scoff, flicking his forehead again. “Pervert.”

Jungkook just smirks, completely shameless. “What can I say? I like my girlfriend a little unhinged.” You roll your eyes, but before you can retort, a deep rumble of thunder echoes outside.

Jungkook groans, throwing an arm over his face. “Great. So we really are stuck inside all day.”

You don’t even bother hiding your glee. “Tragic.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Jungkook shifts, burying his face into your stomach like a sulking puppy. You try to shove him off, but he only clings harder, grumbling nonsense against your his hoodie.

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur, fingers idly threading through his hair again. Eventually, he shifts, lifting his head to look at you properly. His expression softens laced with something so fond it makes your breath hitch. He doesn’t say anything. Just laces his fingers through yours, absentmindedly tracing patterns against your palm.

Then, suddenly there's a sharp poke to your side and you jolt with a squawk, trying to wiggle away. “Jungkook!” He grins, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If we’re staying in, we should do something.”

You glare at him, still half-prepared to smack him upside the head. “Like what?”

His smirk deepens. “You know exactly what.” For a second, you just stare at him. He stares back.Then, without breaking eye contact—he grabs the game controllers.

Jungkook’s sunshine boyfriend energy disappears the second the race countdown starts. Gone is the sweet, cuddly man who had been wrapped around you like a koala just minutes ago, now, he’s leaning forward, brows furrowed, fully in the zone.

“Loser does the dishes in both apartments,” he announces, rolling his shoulders like he’s prepping for war. You scoff, cracking your knuckles for dramatic effect. “You’re about to regret that.”

The moment Lakitu drops the starting light, Jungkook launches forward like he’s been possessed by the spirit of every pro gamer ever. Meanwhile, you barely get past the first turn without slamming into the barrier. You spam every single item box you can get your hands on, determined to take him down with sheer pettiness if not skill.

Then there’s a miracle. Jungkook is just about to cross the finish line when you hit him with a perfectly timed blue shell.

BOOM.

His character spirals into the air, crashing down just inches from victory. You zoom past him at the last second.

“IN YOUR FACE, JEON.” You throw your arms up like you just won an Olympic gold medal. Jungkook stares at the screen in stunned silence. Then, slowly he turns to you. You suddenly get the feeling you’ve made a terrible mistake.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, cracking his knuckles. “No more playing nice.”

The next race starts and you get absolutely destroyed.

Jungkook goes full demon mode, drifting around corners with terrifying precision, dodging every single attack like he can see the future. He launches red shells, banana peels, lightning bolts— you don’t even know how he’s getting this many power-ups.

It’s a massacre. One round. Two rounds. Three. You lose every single one. By the end, your controller is nearly embedded into your palm from how tightly you’re gripping it. Jungkook, on the other hand, is lounging back against the couch, arms stretched behind his head, smug as hell.

He tilts his head, smirking. “Do you yield?”

You scowl. “I hope you step on a Lego.”

Jungkook just laughs, grabbing your wrist and yanking you into his lap before you can escape. The controllers are discarded, forgotten as you end up tangled together on the couch. His arms snake around your waist, holding you in place as you halfheartedly struggle.

Then—he boops your nose.

You blink. Once. Twice. Then groan, flopping dramatically against his chest. “I take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about you.”

Jungkook only hums, smug and unbothered. “Even though you lost, I still think you’re the cutest.”

You smack his arm. “I will actually fight you.”

“Mm. As long as it’s not in Mario Kart, I like my chances.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzes against the coffee table, the vibration cutting through the comfortable silence. He lazily reaches for it, glancing at the screen. His brows knit together for a second before his face smooths over into a grin.

“Oh, my mom’s planning a family dinner. She wants you to come.”

You, mid-sip of your newly-made coffee, nearly choke.

“…Huh?”

Jungkook tilts his head, amused. “What? You act like this is the first time she’s invited you.”

You pause, tapping your fingers against the cup. His family liked you. You knew that. His mom always sent you home with extra food whenever you visited, and his dad made it a point to tease Jungkook about “finally settling down” whenever you were around. Jungkook leans closer, watching you expectantly. “So? You’ll come?”

You exhale dramatically, pretending to be deep in thought. “…Maybe.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes. “Maybe?”

You smirk. “I’ll go on one condition.”

He leans in even more, suspicious. “What?”

You set your cup down with a slow, deliberate motion. Then you look him dead in the eye. “…Admit that I’m better at games.”

Jungkook snorts. “Not happening.”

You grin. “Then I’m not coming.”

Jungkook blinks. Then, before you can react, he pounces.

“YOU’RE COMING.”

“JUNGKOOK—”

You barely have time to throw your drink onto the table before he tackles you down onto the couch, arms caging you in as he buries his face into your neck. His weight presses you into the cushions, his laughter muffled against your skin.

“You little brat,” he mutters, nuzzling into you. You squirm, but he’s relentless, peppering lazy kisses against your jaw just to distract you.

“Say you’ll come,” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement.

“Say I’m better.”

Jungkook grins against your neck. “Hmm. How about this—you come to dinner, and I’ll let you win next time.” You gasp, shoving at his chest. “Let me win?!”

His laughter shakes both of you, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m trying to be generous, baby.”

“Jungkook, I swear—”

The argument quickly devolves into a mess of tangled limbs and laughter, neither of you backing down. Jungkook is still half on top of you, his arms lazily wrapped around your waist, completely unwilling to let you escape. His warmth seeps into you, making it harder to even think about moving. You sigh, dramatically slumping against the couch cushions. “Fine. I’ll go to dinner.”

Jungkook’s head snaps up instantly. “Really?”

You roll your eyes, poking his cheek. “Yeah, yeah. But I’m expecting VIP treatment.”

Jungkook grins, wide and bright, before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Deal.”

Outside, the rain picks up, sheets of water blurring the world beyond the glass. The streetlights flicker, their glow reflecting off the puddles collecting on the pavement. But just beyond the window, Neither of you notice the figure standing on the balcony of the building across the street a dark silhouette barely visible through the downpour.

He watches. He waits.

The overhead lights in your office cast a dim, sterile glow, humming softly in the near silence. The usual buzz of the workplace has long since faded, leaving only the occasional click of your keyboard and the distant sound of the air conditioning whirring. You rub your tired eyes, exhaustion settling deep in your bones as you scroll through the last few emails of the day.

Just as you’re about to tackle the next document in your never-ending pile, your phone vibrates against your desk, the soft buzz cutting through the quiet. You glance at the screen, and a familiar name lights up:

Kook 🐰💜 [6:15 PM]: Still working? Kook 🐰💜 [6:15 PM]: Come over after work?

A small smile tugs at your lips despite the fatigue weighing on you. You reach for your phone, letting your gaze drift to the towering stack of documents beside you before sighing. There’s no way you’re finishing up anytime soon. With a resigned exhale, you type out a response.

You [6:16 PM]: Working overtime. I’ll text when I’m done.

His reply comes almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for your response.

Kook 🐰💜 [6:16 PM]: It’s late. Want me to pick you up?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a second before you shake your head, rolling your eyes fondly. It wasn’t like you weren’t capable of getting home on your own. The walk to your apartment was barely ten minutes, and you’d done it countless times before without issue. You hated the idea of relying too much on someone else, even if that someone was Jungkook. He was always eager to drop everything for you, to take on your burdens like they were his own, and while a part of you adored that about him, another part resisted it. You never wanted to feel like you needed saving. You could handle yourself.

You [6:16 PM]: I’m fine. My apartment’s nearby, remember?

There’s a brief pause before his next message comes through.

Kook 🐰💜[6:18 PM]: At least text me when you’re home.

You bite back a smile, shaking your head.

You [6:18 PM]: Yes, yes, Mr. Protective.

A second later, your screen lights up again with a message that’s nothing but a row of emojis. You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head as you set your phone down. Stretching your arms over your head, you glance back at the unfinished work in front of you. The night is far from over, and exhaustion lingers in your limbs, but you push through.

Two hours later, the office is nearly deserted. Rows of empty desks stretch out before you, their monitors dark, abandoned by coworkers who were lucky enough to call it a day. Somewhere in the distance, the faint murmur of a janitor echoes through the halls, a quiet reminder that you’re not entirely alone. Still, the stillness feels heavy, pressing against your shoulders as you rub your tired eyes and blink at your laptop screen.

“Still here?”

The familiar voice startles you, pulling you from your work-induced daze. You look up to see Jimin standing by your desk, a bag slung over his shoulder and an amused expression on his face.

You let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Unfortunately.”

He crosses his arms, leaning casually against the cubicle wall. “Overtime?”

“Yeah.” You stretch your stiff fingers before clicking through your files. “Trying to get ahead of things since I’m taking a day off for Jungkook’s family dinner.”

Jimin raises a brow, clearly holding back a smirk. “You? Taking a day off? Who are you, and what have you done with my workaholic friend?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “It’s one day, Park.”

“Still. Didn’t think you’d willingly take time off for a boyfriend’s family event.”

You shrug, shifting your attention back to your laptop. “I’m being a supportive partner. And also avoiding Jungkook’s pout if I don’t go.”

Jimin chuckles. “Yeah, that tracks.” He checks his watch, then nods toward the exit. “Well, it’s already past eight. I can drop you off—my car’s in the basement.”

You pause for half a second, tempted. It would be easy, safe. A quick ride home without having to walk through the dark streets alone. But something in you resists. You’ve always prided yourself on being independent, on handling things yourself. You weren’t about to start needing an escort home like some helpless protagonist in a thriller movie. Besides, your apartment wasn’t far, and you could take care of yourself just fine.

You shake your head. “I’ve still got work left. Need to refine a client presentation before tomorrow.”

Jimin frowns, clearly debating whether to push the issue. “You sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

You give him a small, reassuring smile. “Go home, Jimin. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitates for a moment longer before exhaling in defeat. “Alright. Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will.”

Satisfied, he ruffles your hair in a way that makes you swat at him, laughing as he dodges your weak attempt at retaliation. “Night, workaholic,” he teases before heading out, his footsteps fading down the hall.

And just like that, you’re alone again, the dim glow of your laptop screen casting long shadows across your desk.

It’s nearing eleven o'clock by the time you finally leave the office, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders like a weight you can’t shake. The automatic doors slide shut behind you, sealing the building in eerie silence. Outside, the streets stretch before you, quieter than usual, the world dipped in shades of silver and black under the dim glow of the streetlights.

The scent of rain lingers in the air, damp and heavy, even though the drizzle had stopped hours ago. The pavement glistens under the flickering glow of streetlights, reflecting the distorted shapes of the empty road ahead. A chilly breeze whispers through the deserted streets, curling around your skin like invisible fingers. You shiver, tugging your coat tighter around you, telling yourself it’s just the cold. You exhale slowly, watching your breath fog in the night air, and begin your walk home. It’s not far—barely a ten-minute walk. You’ve done this route countless times before. It should feel familiar. Safe.

But tonight… something feels off.

At first, it’s just a small shift in the air, a faint prickle at the back of your neck that strange, creeping sensation of being watched. It crawls up your spine, makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

You shake it off, adjusting the strap of your bag. You’re just tired. Paranoid. That’s all. The streets are always eerie this late of course they are. There’s no one around, just the distant hum of traffic blocks away, the occasional flicker of a neon sign from a closed shop. But then when you’re halfway home, just as you pass the turn near the old bookstore you hear it.

A faint, subtle sound, a footstep, echoes just a second too late after your own. Your breath catches in your throat as you freeze, and the sound stops too. The silence is suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Slowly, so painfully slowly, you turn to glance behind you.

Nothing.

Just an empty sidewalk, stretched too long and too dark behind you. The streetlights buzz faintly, their glow flickering, casting strange, distorted shadows on the wet pavement. Your own heartbeat pounds against your ribs, a heavy drumbeat in the stillness. You swallow, trying to shake the feeling creeping under your skin. You’re imagining things. You have to be. The city is full of noises like cars in the distance, leaves rustling, a stray cat darting between alleyways. That’s all it is.

Still… your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag as you push forward, steps quicker now. But the feeling doesn’t go away. It lingers. Pressing against your skin like static, buzzing at the edge of your awareness. You’re not alone.

You almost pull out your phone. Almost. Jungkook would pick up in an instant and he’d tell you to stay on the line, that he was coming to get you. But you don’t.

Because what would you even say? Hey, I think I’m being followed, but I’m not sure, and I don’t want to sound like an idiot? No way. Jungkook would freak out, and you weren’t about to send him into a panic over something that was probably nothing. So instead, you pick up your pace, each step sharper, more urgent. The streetlights above seem dimmer now, their glow barely cutting through the shadows pooling at the edges of the road.

Your building is just a few turns away. You make it past the first one, then the second. Then you hear it again—not just a sound this time, but a shift, a presence. Someone is there. Your heart hammers as you whip around faster this time.

Nothing.

Your own shadow stretches long on the pavement, its shape warping under the flickering lights. The alleyway to your right is yawning and dark, a gaping mouth of blackness that seems to pull at the edges of your vision. Your pulse is a thunderous roar in your ears.

You’re not imagining this. This is real.

And now, your body knows it too and every instinct is screaming at you to move. So you do.

You rush forward, walking as fast as you can without breaking into a sprint. Your breath quickens, your fingers curling into fists, every nerve in your body on high alert. Just a little further. Just one more turn.

And then finally your apartment building comes into view, looming in the darkness like a beacon. Relief crashes over you so forcefully that you nearly stumble. You don’t turn around again. You don’t want to know if someone is standing there. Watching.

You force yourself to stay calm as you punch in the building’s entry code with unsteady fingers, stepping inside the safety of the lobby. The door shuts behind you with a heavy click, locking out the night.

You practically rush inside, the cool air of the lobby offering little comfort as your fingers tremble over the keypad. Your breath is shallow, coming in uneven gasps as you punch in your passcode. The numbers blur slightly in your vision, whether from exhaustion or the lingering tension clawing at your mind, you’re not sure. The beep of the lock disengaging feels deafening in the stillness. You push the door open, stepping inside so quickly that you nearly stumble over your own feet. The door swings shut behind you with a soft but final click, sealing you in the safety of your apartment. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

For a moment, you just stand there, listening. Nothing but the hum of your refrigerator, the faint creak of the building settling, and the sound of your own breathing, ragged and uneven in the silence. You don’t stop moving until every lock is in place.

Click. Click. Click.

Each one echoes louder than it should, like an affirmation that you are, in fact, secure. That no one followed you. That no one is outside, waiting. Still, the unease gnaws at you, refusing to settle. So, you make your rounds. Checking. Double-checking. Triple-checking.

You pull the curtains shut, firmly, ensuring no sliver of the outside world can seep in. You check the windows next, pressing your fingers against the glass, as if expecting to feel warmth from another presence, a breath on the other side. But there’s nothing. No shadow moving in the darkness, no faint imprint of something or someone having been there.

Finally, with a deep breath, you force yourself to move, shedding your coat, kicking off your shoes with sluggish movements. The exhaustion from the long day crashes down on you all at once, dull and heavy. Your limbs feel leaden as you shuffle toward your bedroom, every step slower than the last.

The warmth of your bed is almost enough to chase away the unease, the mattress soft, inviting and safe a stark contrast to the cold anxiety curling at the edges of your consciousness. You exhale, forcing yourself to relax, letting your body sink into the familiar comfort of your sheets.

But even as your eyes grow heavy, your mind refuses to let go completely. That nagging sense of being watched still lingers. Faint but present. And just before sleep claims you, a final thought slithers through your mind.

What if you weren’t imagining it? What if someone was still out there? Watching. Waiting.

Jungkook drives with effortless ease, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel while the other taps against the radio in rhythm with the song playing softly through the speakers. The hum of the engine blends with the melody, filling the quiet space between you, neither of you needing to speak. The road stretches ahead, endless and open, disappearing into the horizon. A faint trace of salt lingers in the air, creeping in through the half-open window, a quiet reminder that you’re getting closer to Busan.

You sit in the passenger seat, your gaze flickering between the blur of passing scenery and the man beside you. The steady motion of the car, the warmth of the moment, it all feels oddly soothing. After days of unease, of tension wound so tightly in your body that even sleep felt like a battle, you finally feel yourself exhale.

“Can’t believe you actually agreed to take a day off for me,” Jungkook teases, his grin nothing short of triumphant as he spares you a glance. “Is this what love does to people?”

You roll your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “One time, Jeon. Don’t get used to it.”

Jungkook chuckles, shaking his head like he doesn’t believe you for a second. His smile spreads wide, bright enough to make your chest ache with something unspoken. He reaches over without hesitation, his fingers giving your knee a playful squeeze before returning to the wheel. The touch is fleeting but warm, grounding in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

You should tell him.

The past few days have been unbearable due to the creeping paranoia, the feeling of eyes tracing your every move and the subtle shifts in your apartment that made your skin crawl. It’s like living with a shadow just out of reach, something you can’t see but can feel pressing in from the edges. You don’t scare easily, but this has been different.

Your fingers twitch against your lap. One word. That’s all it would take. Jungkook would listen like he always does. He’d furrow his brows, tilt his head in that concerned way he does, and tell you not to brush it off. He’d probably get all worked up, insist on staying over, refuse to let you out of his sight.

And yet, looking at him now being so carefree, his bunny-like smile tugging at his lips as he taps his fingers against the beat makes you hesitate. He’s happy. Peaceful. This moment is untouched by the weight sitting on your chest, and for once, you don’t want to taint something good.

So you take a slow breath, forcing yourself to relax against the seat. You tell yourself it’s fine. That you’re just being paranoid. That if anything truly happens, you’ll deal with it.

You exhaled slowly, willing yourself to stay in the present, to focus on the soft hum of the radio, the rhythmic tap of Jungkook’s fingers against the steering wheel. But the memory pulled at you, dragging you under before you could stop it—

You had come home after another long day at work. Your shoulders were aching from hours spent hunched over your desk. You had barely registered the familiar scent of your apartment as you pushed the door open, the soft creak echoing into the stillness inside.

Everything had looked normal at first.

Your shoes sat neatly by the entrance, exactly where you had left them. The kitchen counter was cluttered with the remnants of that morning’s rushed breakfast.

But the air had felt… different. Slightly off. As if someone had been there. Your heartbeat had stumbled, picking up speed before you could rationalize it. You had told yourself it was nothing. Just the exhaustion making you paranoid.

And yet, as you had stepped further inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The sound was the first thing that struck you. Cheerful, repetitive, out of place.

Your TV was on.

Not just on but playing Mario Kart. The character selection screen looped in the background, the upbeat jingle clashing against the heavy silence that filled your apartment. You hadn’t touched your console in days. Not since you and Jungkook played together last Sunday. Your pulse quickened.

Your eyes flickered to the couch. It had been moved just slightly. Barely an inch out of place, but enough for you to notice.

A slow, creeping unease settled into your bones as you stepped further inside, your movements cautious. Your apartment wasn’t large. There weren’t many places for someone to hide. And yet, your skin prickled with the overwhelming sensation that something or someone had been here.

Your breath hitched as your gaze fell on your bedroom door, slightly ajar. You had closed it that morning. You were sure of it. With measured steps, you pushed the door open fully. And that’s when you saw it.

Your bed—completely in ruins. The sheets were tangled, pillows tossed carelessly, the once-smooth blankets now bunched in the center as if someone had been lying there. Your stomach twisted with unease because this morning, just before leaving for work, you had made your bed. Yet now, the sheets were rumpled, disturbed in a way that sent a chill crawling up your spine. Someone had been here.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you took a shaky step back, your eyes darting around the room. Everything looked normal aside from the bed, the couch and the TV but the air felt wrong. Tainted. Like someone had occupied this space in your absence.

Your mind raced as you checked the locks. Still in place. No broken windows. No signs of forced entry.

So how— Your breath hitched as a thought struck you. With trembling fingers, you grabbed your phone and immediately dialed Jungkook. He picked up after a few rings, his voice slightly breathless, like he had been running. “Hey, baby. Everything okay?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, gripping the phone tightly. “Yeah,” you lied, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Where are you right now?”

"Still at the clinic," he answered easily. "Was assisting with a surgery on a Pomeranian. Poor guy had a blockage so it took longer than expected." Your stomach dropped.

If Jungkook wasn’t here… then who was?

Your fingers curled around your phone, knuckles whitening as you fought to keep your breathing even. “Got it,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Just checking.” There was a pause. Then, Jungkook’s tone softened. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Another lie. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before he could press further, you ended the call.

The only sound left was the distant loop of Mario Kart, mocking you.

The weight of the memory lingered, suffocating, but the warmth of the car, the low hum of the radio, and Jungkook’s familiar presence slowly pulled you back. You blinked, staring at him.

Jungkook was happily rambling about his mom’s cooking, hands moving animatedly as he drove. “—and she always makes extra, like extra extra, because she knows I eat a lot. But now she’s even more excited since you’re coming—oh! She even tried making those cookies you love—”

His voice was light, full of an excitement you didn’t want to taint. A small part of you wanted to tell him. But another part, the part that didn’t want to see that deep crease of concern on his forehead, didn’t want to take away his peace, told you to keep it to yourself. For now.

You turned your head, looking out the window, watching the scenery blur past. You didn’t notice the way Jungkook’s eyes flickered toward you, his brows knitting together for just a moment before he forced his usual smile back onto his face.

Jungkook pulled into the driveway, parking with practiced ease. You had been here more times than you could count, yet there was always something comforting about stepping into his childhood home like the faint scent of home-cooked meals wafting through the air and the familiar sight of the wind chime swaying gently by the door.

Jungkook turned to you with a grin, one hand still resting on the steering wheel. “Mom probably made enough food to feed a small army.”

You chuckled, already knowing that was true. “She always does.”

Before you could even step out of the car, the front door swung open, revealing his mom waving enthusiastically. “You’re finally here! Hurry, come in before the food gets cold!” His mom pulled you into a hug the second you stepped inside, squeezing you tight.

“You’ve lost weight,” she huffed, pulling back just enough to inspect you with a critical eye. “Are you eating properly?”

Jungkook groaned beside you, already exasperated. “She’s fine, Mom.”

You laughed, but before you could respond, his dad stepped forward with a warm smile, offering a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, his voice as steady and kind as ever.

“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Jeon,” you replied politely. “Mrs. Jeon, thank you for having me—”

Before you could finish, his mom smacked your arm lightly, her expression scandalized. “Yah! How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Mom and Dad.”

Your face heated instantly. “R-Right. Sorry… Mom.”

Jungkook snickered under his breath at your obvious embarrassment, and his mom beamed, clearly pleased. “That’s better,” she said, linking her arm with yours as she led you further inside. “You’re family, sweetheart. No need for formalities.”

The house smelled incredible of rich simmering broth and freshly cooked rice. The warmth of it all settled deep in your chest, making you realize just how much you had missed this. As you stepped into the living room, your gaze landed on a few baby toys scattered near the couch, a soft blanket draped over the armrest. Before you could ask, his mom sighed.

“Junghyun and his wife wanted to come with the twins, but the girls were too fussy today.”

Jungkook pouted dramatically, crossing his arms. “I still haven’t met my nieces.”

His mom shook her head, unimpressed. “You could visit them, you know.”

“I will,” Jungkook mumbled, already defeated. “Just… eventually.”

The dining table was packed with dishes his mom had gone all out, as always. Various side dishes, steaming hot soup, perfectly grilled meat, and a mountain of rice sat invitingly before you. It was a feast, one you had grown familiar with over the years, yet it never failed to impress you. Before you could even reach for anything, Jungkook was already piling food onto your plate, stacking it with precision. “Eat,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You know the rules.”

His mom beamed, clearly pleased. “At least someone in this house listens to me.”

You chuckled, picking up your chopsticks, but the moment was shattered when your phone lit up beside your plate, vibrating with an insistent ping. You glanced down, your stomach twisting into a knot.

Your pulse quickened. The messages came one after the other.

Unknown [1:10 PM]: You think you can stay safe by staying away from here? Unknown [1:10 PM]: You think he’s gonna save you? Unknown [1:10 PM]: I am always watching you, doll.

Your breath hitched. Cold fingers of unease crawled up your spine, but you forced yourself to stay composed. Your hands thankfully didn’t shake as you turned your phone upside down and set it to silent. Jungkook had noticed. His gaze flickered to the screen before you flipped it over, his brows knitting together in quiet concern. He looked like he wanted to ask, but you didn’t give him the chance.

The vibration had caught his parents’ attention too. “Oh dear, is that work?” his mom asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Yeah,” you lied smoothly, forcing a small smile. “Just some messages I need to deal with later.”

You weren’t sure if Jungkook believed you, but he didn’t press. Instead, he reached out under the table, squeezing your knee reassuringly before focusing back on his food. You tried to do the same, pushing down the paranoia clawing at your chest.

Dinner flowed with easy conversation. His parents asked about your work, laughing when Jungkook grumbled about how much time it took away from him. They also teased him relentlessly about how attached he was to you.

“Three years, and he still acts like you’re going to disappear if he looks away,” his dad joked, shaking his head fondly.

You snickered, nudging Jungkook’s foot under the table.

But Jungkook just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Can you blame me?” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dinner continued with warmth and laughter, his parents seamlessly shifting the conversation to Jungkook’s studies.

“So, how’s school going?” his dad asked, scooping some more rice onto his plate. “Third year already, huh? Feels like just yesterday you were running around pretending to be a zookeeper.” Jungkook groaned. “Dad.”

His mom chuckled. “What? You were obsessed with animals. You even tried to ‘rescue�� the neighbor’s cat by sneaking it into your room.”

You gasped dramatically, turning to Jungkook. “Wait, I didn’t know about this!”

Jungkook sighed, shoving a bite of food into his mouth like he could physically escape the conversation. “That was years ago.”

His dad laughed. “And now look at you, halfway to becoming a real vet.”

“Not halfway,” Jungkook corrected between bites. “But yeah, it’s been tough. Classes are intense, and the practicals are even harder. Two days ago, I had to assist with a surgery, and let’s just say I wasn’t prepared for how long it would take.”

His mom’s eyes softened with pride. “You’ll be amazing, sweetheart. You’ve always had such a big heart for animals.”

Jungkook ducked his head, ears tinged pink. You smiled, nudging his foot under the table again. “She’s right, you know. You’re going to be an incredible vet.”

Jungkook glanced at you, his bunny-like smile appearing for just a second before he returned to his food. But the warmth of the moment did little to push away the unease creeping up your spine. The phone lay silent beside your plate, but you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling.

Just as the conversation was settling into a warm, familiar rhythm, the front door slammed open with the force of a small explosion.

“The prodigal son returns!”

Jungkook groaned, not even bothering to look. “Why. Are. You. Here.”

Jin strutted in like he was making a grand entrance at an award show, tossing his jacket onto the couch with an unnecessary flourish. “Heard there was food,” he announced before turning to you with a smirk. “And obviously, I had to make sure my dear cousin hasn’t scared you off yet.”

Jungkook scoffed. “You scared me off first.”

Jin ignored him completely, already making a beeline for the dining table. His mom, unfazed by the theatrics, clapped her hands together. “Oh, perfect timing! Sit, eat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Jin said cheerfully, dropping into the seat beside you. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks like a warrior unsheathing his sword, ready for battle.

“So,” he drawled, nudging you playfully. “Three years and you still haven’t run for the hills? Impressive.”

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “I’ve considered it.”

Jungkook gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you had personally stabbed him. “Betrayal! In my own home!”

“Technically, it’s our home,” his mom corrected.

“Exactly!” Jin said, pointing his chopsticks at Jungkook before shoving a mouthful of rice into his mouth. Jungkook’s dad, ever the composed one, leaned back in his chair and regarded Jin with an amused shake of his head. “So, how’s the tattoo shop? Are you still working reception?”

Jin waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that? I quit.”

Jungkook’s mom sighed, as if she had already seen this coming.

Jungkook’s dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jin, you just started that job.”

“Yeah, and I just quit that job,” Jin said brightly. “But don’t worry—I’ve moved on to better things.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “Should I even ask?”

“I now work at a pastry shop.” Jin declared, as if he had just announced a groundbreaking scientific discovery.

Jungkook blinked. “You?”

“Yes, me.”

Jungkook’s dad sighed. “Jin, you have to start thinking about stability. You can’t keep jumping from one job to another like this.”

Jin only laughed, waving him off like the thought of responsibility was a foreign concept. “Oh, please. Stability is boring. I get bored too fast—I need thrill, excitement, the rush of something new.”

“You sell croissants,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“And I do it with flair,” Jin shot back, popping a piece of fried chicken into his mouth. “Speaking of which, I brought some samples! The head baker said they were too ‘experimental’ for customers, but I figured you guys would appreciate my artistic vision.” He reached into his coat pocket because of course he carried pastries in his coat pocket and plopped two small, questionably green muffins onto the table.

Jungkook recoiled. “What is that?”

Jin grinned. “Matcha and kimchi fusion.”

Jungkook’s dad sighed again. His mom simply patted Jin’s hand, as if she had long since accepted his chaotic ways. Jin wipes his hands dramatically after placing down his abomination of a pastry creation, then immediately turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So,” he starts, leaning in with the air of someone about to cause chaos. “On a scale of one to dear god, someone save me, how difficult is he to live with?”

You barely have time to react before he fires off another.

“Any plans to upgrade from ‘boyfriend’ status?” Jin asks, voice dripping with faux innocence.

Jungkook chokes so hard on his food that you have to thump his back. His mom gasps in concern, while his dad just continues eating like this is any other Thursday night.

Jin smirks in triumph. “Ah, so is there a wedding?”

Jungkook, still recovering, glares murderously. “You are so not invited to the wedding—”

Jin claps his hands together. “Confirmed!”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He grabs a spoonful of rice and hurls it straight at Jin. Jin dodges like a seasoned warrior. “Oh, it’s war now.”

A second later, a piece of kimchi smacks Jungkook right in the cheek. Jungkook gapes at Jin. “You did not—”

“Oh, I did.” Jin wiggles his eyebrows before launching another attack. What starts as a petty sibling squabble escalates into all-out warfare. Jungkook lobs a dumpling; Jin retaliates with a piece of radish. Rice goes flying. You duck just in time to avoid getting hit by a rogue piece of tofu.

“Jeon Jungkook!” his mom shrieks, voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. “Kim Seokjin!”

They both freeze mid-throw, like guilty kids caught red-handed.

His dad sighs, a long and tired sigh, the kind that speaks of years of dealing with this exact scenario. He calmly reaches for his drink. “Can we please have one dinner without someone launching food across the table?”

Jungkook and Jin exchange glances.

Then, as if telepathically synchronized, they both lift their chopsticks and point at each other. “He started it.”

You snort. His mom groans. His dad sips his tea in silent resignation.

The night air is crisp, carrying the distant hum of crickets and the occasional rustling of leaves in the trees that line Jungkook’s backyard. The stars above twinkle through gaps in the branches, their light soft and distant. Out here, away from the city’s chaos, everything feels quieter like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Sorry about him.”

You chuckle, leaning into his warmth. “I like him. He makes things interesting.”

“Interesting until he’s grilling you.”

“True,” you admit, grinning. “But I can handle him.”

Jungkook huffs a quiet laugh, resting his chin atop your head. You exhale, letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment, savoring the security of his presence. It’s moments like these that make you forget the paranoia and the unease clawing at the edges of your mind.

But it never truly leaves.

The feeling of being watched. The weight of unseen eyes crawling over your skin. The messages you’ve ignored all night. They all linger in your mind. You glance up at Jungkook. He’s still smiling, talking about how his mom packed you extra leftovers. “She thinks you don’t eat enough,” he says fondly, shaking his head.

You should tell him.

The words sit heavy on your tongue, pressing against your teeth. One sentence, and it would all be out in the open.

But you don’t.

Instead, you nod, forcing a small laugh. “She really doesn’t take no for an answer, huh?”

“Never,” Jungkook confirms, squeezing your waist. His touch is warm, grounding. But even that warmth doesn’t reach the cold pit in your stomach.

“Jungkook!” His dad’s voice calls from inside. “Come here for a second.”

Jungkook groans, reluctant to move. “Stay here, I’ll be back,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before disappearing inside.

The moment he’s gone, the silence presses in. You hesitate before pulling out your phone, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb. The notifications are still there, messages from Unknown piled up like unanswered warnings.

The last one catches your eye.

Unknown [1:10 PM]: I am always watching you, doll.

Your breath stutters.

The phone suddenly feels heavy in your hands, like a weight dragging you down into something inescapable.

No.

Your pulse pounds in your ears, drowning out the gentle chirping of crickets, drowning out reason. A suffocating sense of dread settles in your chest as you stare at the word, doll. There was only one person who ever called you that.

Only one voice that had whispered it against your skin, had laughed it into your ear, had let it drip from his tongue like a slow poison.

Kim Taehyung.

The room was thick with the stench of alcohol and sweat, the air heavy with cigarette smoke that coiled toward the ceiling in lazy spirals. Dim lighting flickered from a dying bulb, casting long, distorted shadows across the stained walls.

Taehyung sat slouched in a tattered armchair, his body sinking into the worn-out fabric. His limbs felt like lead, the weight of intoxication pressing down on him, making his movements sluggish, his thoughts hazy. A half-empty bottle dangled loosely from his fingers, the condensation dripping onto his jeans, but he barely noticed.

Around him, his friends were strewn across the room in various states of intoxication, some laughing at nothing, their voices slurred and senseless, while others lay sprawled out, lost to the world. Taehyung exhaled a slow, heavy breath. Everything felt distant and detached until a stray thought cut through the fog: you.

His lazy smirk faltered. His fingers twitched against the armrest, tightening before relaxing again. His vision blurred at the edges, but the memories were sharp. Unwelcome. Unrelenting. His jaw clenched. He willed himself to push it away, drown it in the haze, let the high carry him somewhere else. But it never worked.

It never did when it came to you. His body was here, slouched in a torn armchair, but his mind was somewhere else. Three years ago.

"I don’t love you anymore."

The scent of espresso and warm pastries was suffocating. The quiet hum of conversation around them felt like static in his ears. But none of it fucking mattered. Not when you were sitting across from him, staring at him like he was nothing.

The words barely registered at first. His mind lagged behind reality like a glitching tape, playing back a version of events where this wasn’t happening.

"What?" His voice was sharp, disbelieving. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Your gaze didn’t waver. "I said I don’t love you."

The words cut. They didn’t hit all at once they sank in slowly, like a blade sliding between ribs.

Taehyung laughed. "Bullshit."

He leaned forward, jaw tight, fingers curling into the edge of the table. "You’re being dramatic. You always do this shit when you want attention."

Your expression didn’t change, but something about it made his stomach turn. You weren’t crying. You weren’t shaking. There was no hesitation or guilt or any of the things he had relied on to keep you in line. This wasn’t like before.

Your voice was flat. "You ruined this, Tae. You ruined me."

His laugh was louder this time, bitter and sharp. "Oh, so I’m the villain now? After everything I did for you?"

"Everything you did to me."

His breath stuttered.

And then you kept going. You fucking kept going.

"You controlled me. You isolated me. You made me feel like I was insane every time I called you out on your bullshit."

His hands curled into fists. "Oh, fuck off—"

"You threatened me, Tae. You threw shit. You punched walls, grabbed me so fucking hard I had bruises for days. And every time, you’d crawl back, begging, saying you didn’t mean it—"

His teeth clenched, fury bubbling beneath his skin. "Because I didn’t!"

"You dangled your own life over my head like a leash."

His blood turned cold, the first sliver of panic slicing through the rage that had consumed him moments ago. He wasn’t winning. The realization struck hard. His grip tightened on the table, nails digging into the cheap wood as if he was bracing for impact. You weren’t supposed to fucking say that. You weren’t supposed to know.

He forced a laugh, but it came out desperate. "And what, you're suddenly a fucking therapist? Psychoanalyzing me like I’m some fucking monster?"

Your voice was quiet, but it sliced straight through him.

"I don’t need to psychoanalyze you, Taehyung. I lived through you."

The air left his lungs. His vision blurred at the edges, rage and panic clashing, drowning him.

All of a sudden, ‘his’ name fell from your lips like a gunshot.

Jungkook? That pathetic little nerd? The one he used to shove into lockers, humiliate just for the fun of it? The same one who flinched if someone raised their voice too loud?

He let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh, but there was nothing funny about this. His hands shook from the effort of holding himself back.

"So that’s what you’ve been doing, huh?" His voice was sharp, venomous. "Nursing him back to health after I fucked him up?"

You exhaled, shaking your head, unimpressed.

Then, he snapped. "You fucked him, didn’t you?"

He spat the words like a curse, like they burned his tongue. Even as he said it, he knew you wouldn’t. You were a self-righteous bitch with all your morals, your bullshit standards. You wouldn’t dare. But the thought of it, the idea of you with him made his head spin, made his vision go dark at the edges.

His voice dropped to a hiss. "That little fucking loser? You let him touch you? You let him—"

His hands ached. He wanted to grab you, to shake you, to make you look at him.

"He’s a pussy, doll." His voice cracked, something wild and desperate bleeding through. "He won’t take care of you like I did."

You scoffed, expression unreadable. "You never took care of me, Tae."

"What the fuck does he have that I don’t?" His voice rose, teetering between fury and desperation. "Tell me."

You just stared at him, and that look—that fucking look—

It was over.

It was fucking over.

Panic clawed at his ribs, lodged itself in his throat, made his vision blur and his hands shake. So he did what he always did when he lost control.

"I’ll kill myself if you leave me."

The words came out fast and sharp, a desperate lifeline thrown into the storm. It had always worked before, always made you hesitate, always made you stay. But this time, you simply exhaled a breath of relief, as if you had finally broken free.

And then, for the first time, you smiled.

"Look at you." Your voice was soft. Almost pitying. "Still trying to manipulate me."

Something inside him snapped.

His vision blurred, his body moved and the next thing he knew, the coffee cup on the table was in pieces, shattered porcelain scattering across the floor.

The café had gone silent.

The whole fucking world had gone silent.

You stood, your chair scraping against the tile. Unbothered.

You walked away. No hesitation. No tears. No fucking remorse.

And for the first time, Taehyung had nothing.

Nothing left to say. Nothing left to hold onto.

The cigarette burned down to the filter, searing his fingers. He didn’t flinch. Taehyung’s jaw clenched, knuckles turning white as his fists curled against the armrest. The high didn’t feel so numbing anymore, just agitating. His skin felt too tight, his thoughts too sharp, too loud.

For almost a year, he had drowned you out with drugs, alcohol, distractions, anything to blur the edges of what you had done to him. To make himself forget the way you walked away without looking back. But the moment he saw you again it all came rushing back.

The obsession. The hunger. The need to undo it all.

You thought you walked away for good?

No. You were always his. Even when you hated him. Even when you ran. And now he was going to take back what was his.

One way or another.

After returning from Busan, you stayed over at Jungkook’s place.

You didn’t want to sleep alone. Not after the messages. The number was blocked now. You hadn’t received anything since. But still… you didn’t feel comfortable going back home yet.

Jungkook hadn’t questioned it. He just smiled and let you in, happy to have you around. But the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to ignore the guilt settling in your chest.

Because Jungkook didn’t know.

You hadn’t told him about the messages. About the unease creeping up your spine every time your phone vibrated. About the name that had resurfaced in the form of a single word:

“Doll.”

It shouldn’t have meant anything. Anyone could use that word. It was common, impersonal.

But not to you.

Not when you could still hear his voice saying it. Not when you remembered how it had dripped from Taehyung’s lips sometimes sweet, sometimes cruel.

“Be good for me, doll.” “You know I only act like this because I love you, doll.” “You’re nothing without me, doll.”

The thought alone made your stomach churn. You weren’t even sure if it was him. Maybe it was just paranoia. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Yeah. It had to be. So you pushed it down, shoved it into the corners of your mind where you didn’t have to look at it. You told yourself you were keeping this from Jungkook to protect him.

But now, as you sit at your office desk, your mind is miles away from the reports in front of you. You tap your pen against the surface, gaze unfocused.

You don’t notice Jimin watching you from across the room until he finally speaks.

“Everything okay between you and Jungkook?”

You blink, snapping out of your daze. “What?”

Jimin leans against your desk, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “You seem off. Thought maybe you two had a fight or something.”

You force a small laugh, shaking your head. “No, nothing like that. Everything’s fine.”

Jimin doesn’t look convinced. His sharp gaze lingers for a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to crack. But he doesn’t press.

And you’re grateful for that.

Lunchtime rolls around when you finally check your phone.

The morning had been filled with client meetings, thankful for the welcome distraction. For a few hours, you managed to keep your mind from spiraling. But the moment your screen lights up with a string of unread messages from an unknown number, reality crashes back in.

Your stomach plummets.

Unknown [10:28 AM]: Did you really think blocking me would make me disappear, doll? Unknown [10:28 AM]: How cute. Almost as cute as you playing house with your little pet. Unknown [10:29 AM]: Speaking of pets… your boyfriend’s been working so hard. Diligently studying to save all those poor, dying animals. Unknown [10:30 AM]: How pathetic. Unknown [10:31 AM]: Wanna see?

Your breath catches.

The next message has three images attached. With shaking fingers, you tap them open.

First image: Jungkook in class, focused, scribbling down notes. Second image: Him in the lab, sleeves rolled up, handling equipment with practiced ease. Third image: Now. Jungkook at lunch, head slightly tilted as he listens to someone, chopsticks resting in his hand.

Your blood turns to ice as your vision tunnels, the world narrowing to a single horrifying realization—Jungkook is right there. Someone… no, not just anyone. It has to be Taehyung. He is near. He is watching. And if he is close enough to take these photos, then he is close enough to do something worse. Your phone nearly slips from your grip as pure, heart-stopping terror crashes into you. Jungkook is in danger. The first message was sent almost an hour ago, which means Taehyung has been near him this whole time. Watching him. Stalking him.

Your first instinct is to call the cops. Your fingers hover over the dial pad, heart hammering until your screen lights up again. As if he had been waiting for you to see his messages.

Unknown [12:01 PM]: I know what you’re thinking, doll. Unknown [12:01 PM]: Call the cops, and I’ll slit your pretty boyfriend’s throat right where he sits.

Your breath locks in your chest, hands trembling so violently you almost drop your phone.

No. No, no, no.

You don’t think you just move.

You bolt out of your office, barely registering Jimin calling after you. His voice is distant, but you can’t stop. You don’t have time. You race to your car, hands fumbling with the keys as you throw yourself into the driver’s seat. The second the engine roars to life, you’re speeding down the street, ignoring every traffic rule, every red light.

There’s only one thought pounding in your skull, louder than the frantic beat of your heart—

Get to Jungkook. Now.

You pull up to Jungkook’s university, barely throwing the car into park before shoving the door open. Your legs feel unsteady as you rush out, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Your hands tremble as you fumble with your phone, fingers slipping as you dial Jungkook’s number again and again. No answer. You try once more, the ringing tone stretching unbearably before it goes to voicemail.

The campus is alive with movement students chatting, laughing and going about their day, blissfully unaware of the sheer terror gripping you. You push through the crowd, scanning faces wildly, your heart pounding against your ribs. Where is Jungkook?

People glance at you, their whispers buzzing at the edge of your hearing, but you don’t care. You try his number again. Still nothing.

A sickening thought slithers into your mind— What if Taehyung already got to him? What if you’re too late?

Finally, your eyes land on him.

Jungkook stands in the courtyard, laughing with a couple of friends, completely oblivious to the danger shadowing him. The world around you blurs as relief crashes over you like a tidal wave.

Alive. Unharmed.

Your knees almost buckle, the tension in your body unravelling just enough for you to let out a sharp, shaky exhale. Your breath stutters as the panic begins to subside, but the urgency still thrums beneath your skin. Then Jungkook sees you.

His laughter dies mid-sentence, his brows knitting together in concern as his eyes rake over your disheveled form. His friends glance at you curiously, but Jungkook is already moving toward you.

"Y/N?" His voice is gentle but urgent. "What’s wrong?"

You shake your head quickly, forcing a weak, unconvincing smile. "It’s nothing," you say, voice tight. "But we need to leave. Now."

Jungkook blinks, his confusion evident. "What? I have an afternoon lecture."

You tighten your grip on his wrist, desperation seeping into your voice. "Jungkook, please. We need to go home."

His brows draw together, concern deepening in his soft gaze. "Why?" His voice remains gentle, but there's a quiet insistence beneath it. "What’s going on?"

When you don’t answer, Jungkook exhales softly before taking your hand, leading you away from the courtyard and into a quieter corner. His touch is firm but never forceful.

"Y/N, talk to me." His voice is barely above a whisper, but there’s an edge of worry to it. "What’s wrong?" His dark eyes search yours, trying to unravel the truth you refuse to say.

You swallow, avoiding his gaze. "It’s nothing, I swear—"

His jaw tightens, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That’s not true."

Jungkook doesn’t raise his voice, but the frustration is clear. He takes a slow step closer, his warmth now suffocating. "You’ve been acting different for weeks. Distant. Jumpy. And now you show up here looking like you’ve seen a ghost and expect me to just go along with it?"

You flinch at the quiet intensity in his words, but still, you don’t answer. Jungkook’s voice rises just a little, but the hurt in it is undeniable. “Do you not trust me?”

You bite your lip, guilt pressing down on your chest like a heavy weight. “Of course I do, Jungkook, it’s just—”

“Then tell me.” His fingers rake through his hair, his brows drawn together, frustration flickering in his dark eyes. But his voice stays soft, laced with something almost pleading.

“I’m not a child, Y/N.”

The words land harder than you expect, sinking deep. Silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken truths and the weight of his quiet disappointment. You know you should tell him. You should warn him. But… you can’t.

Jungkook exhales slowly, his jaw tightening as he watches you struggle with whatever it is you’re refusing to say. His frustration is evident, but his voice remains gentle, laced with quiet insistence.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” he says firmly. “If you won’t, I’ll just stay here.”

Your stomach drops. No. He can’t stay here. Not when you know Taehyung is watching. “Jungkook, please,” you whisper, gripping his wrist tighter.

“Then tell me, Y/N.” His gaze softens, but the unwavering determination in his eyes sends a surge of panic through you. You have no choice. You have to tell him something—anything—just to get him to listen.

“Someone’s been watching you,” you admit in a rush, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know who, but it’s not safe.”

Jungkook stiffens. His expression shifts from frustration to shock, then to something unreadable. “Watching me?” he echoes. “Y/N, what—why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away, guilt gnawing at you. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s still skeptical, still confused, but he can see the genuine fear in your eyes. And that alone is enough to make him give in.

“Alright,” he finally murmurs. “Let’s go.”

Relief washes over you, but just as you think you’ve convinced him to leave, your phone vibrates. It's another message.

Unknown [12:17 PM]: Ah, there you are, doll. So desperate to save your boyfriend? Cute. But I’m not done playing yet.

Your breath hitches.

Taehyung is watching you right now. Your fingers tighten around your phone as your eyes dart around the campus, paranoia seeping into your every movement.

Jungkook immediately catches the way your face drains of all color. His fingers gently close around your wrist before you can react, his other hand swiftly taking your phone from your grip.

“Jungkook, wait—”

But it’s too late. His eyes scan the message, and you feel his entire body go still. His brows knit together, his lips parting slightly as he rereads the words, processing the threat laced between them.

“Who…” His voice is quiet at first, controlled. Then, a little sharper. “Who the hell is this?”

You swallow hard, panic clawing at your chest. You should’ve been more careful. But now there’s no avoiding it. Jungkook looks up at you, eyes searching. “Y/N,” he says softly, but there’s an undeniable firmness in his tone. “Tell me.”

You take a shaky breath, forcing the words out before you can hesitate.

“I… I think it’s Taehyung.”

Jungkook blinks. For a moment, he just stares at you like you’ve said something completely incomprehensible. Then, he shakes his head, a disbelieving scoff leaving his lips.

“Taehyung?” He lets out a breath, his brows furrowing. “No. That’s impossible. We haven’t seen him in years.”

You can see the way his mind is racing, trying to rationalize it, trying to convince himself that it can’t be true. But then piece by piece it all starts to click. The way you’ve been acting. The paranoia. The half-truths. Everything makes sense now.

Jungkook’s expression shifts, his grip tightening slightly around your phone. He looks at you again, this time with quiet intensity. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep, unsteady breath and finally let it all out. Every message. Every chilling threat. The way Taehyung has been watching, lurking in the shadows, getting closer and closer. How you’ve been living in constant fear, too terrified to sleep, too paranoid to breathe. How you blocked him, but he always found a way back. The photos of Jungkook the proof showing that Taehyung has been near him all along.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word. He just listens. His hands slowly curl into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening, but his eyes stay locked on you, soft and unwavering. By the time you finish, your throat is tight, and your vision blurs slightly. You blink rapidly, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. You quickly wipe at your eyes before Jungkook can notice.

But he does.

Without a word, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. You freeze for a second, startled, but then you let yourself sink into the embrace. His arms are strong and steady, anchoring you as if he’s shielding you from everything that’s been haunting you.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice softer than ever. “You don’t have to hold it in, Y/N.”

Your breath shudders. “I-I’m fine,” you whisper, even though your grip on his hoodie tightens. Jungkook shakes his head slightly. “No, you’re not. And that’s okay.” His hand runs up and down your back in slow, soothing motions. “You don’t always have to be strong on your own.”

Something in you cracks at his words. A single tear slips down your cheek, and this time, you don’t wipe it away. Jungkook holds you tighter, his voice firm but gentle. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I was scared.”

“I get that.” He exhales, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. “But you’re not alone in this. I’m here now. And I won’t let him hurt you.”

When you finally pull away, his hands stay on your shoulders, grounding you. Now, you have to decide.

Go to the police? It’s the logical choice, but Taehyung already made it clear what would happen if you did. Jungkook’s life isn’t something you’re willing to gamble with. Confront Taehyung yourself? It’s reckless, dangerous, and probably a mistake. But part of you feels like it’s the only way to put an end to this.

Jungkook watches your face carefully, reading the thoughts swirling in your head. Then, his jaw tightens, his voice steady but firm. “If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’re out of your mind.”

For the first time in weeks, the suffocating loneliness eases because no matter what happens next, Jungkook is with you. Suddenly your phone vibrates again.

Unknown [12:51 PM]: Such a heartwarming moment. But how far will he go to protect you?

And then another message. A photo.

It’s a picture of you and Jungkook. Right now.

He’s still here.

"Y/N?" Jungkook’s voice is soft but sharp with concern. "What is it?"

You turn the phone toward him, and the moment he sees the message, his entire body stiffens. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists. His voice is low but firm when he speaks.

"We’re leaving. Now."

You don’t argue.

Jungkook grabs your wrist, pulling you through the crowd of students, his grip tight but reassuring. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you scan the area frantically, eyes darting from face to face.

But you don’t see him. He could be anywhere.

Jungkook doesn’t slow down until you reach his car. He unlocks it in a rush, practically shoving you inside before slamming the door shut behind him. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. Only when he locks the doors and exhales a shaky breath does he turn to look at you.

"He’s here, Y/N." His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it.

You swallow hard, gripping your phone. "I know."

Jungkook starts the car. "We’re going home. Then we figure out our next move." You nod, but the unease lingers.

Because Taehyung isn’t done playing yet.

Jungkook paces the length of his living room, fingers running through his hair in frustration. You sit on the couch, gripping your phone tightly, going over every possible option. Jungkook is still talking, still trying to come up with a solid plan but his voice fades into the background as your eyes remain glued to your phone screen.

Unknown [1:37 PM]: Come alone. Midnight. Your apartment. Unknown [1:37 PM]: Don’t make me repeat myself, doll.

Your grip on the phone tightens. Your pulse roars in your ears. If Jungkook sees this, there’s no way he’ll let you go. He’ll insist on coming with you. And that’s exactly what Taehyung wants, a reason to hurt him. Swallowing hard, you quickly lock your phone and shove it into your pocket before Jungkook notices.

“Y/N?”

You snap back to reality to find Jungkook watching you carefully. “Yeah?”

“I was saying…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should stay at a hotel tonight. Just in case. I don’t want you anywhere near that apartment if Taehyung’s been watching you.”

Your stomach churns with guilt, but you shake your head. “No. I think we should just stay and act normal. If we start running now, he’ll know we’re scared.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken. “We are scared, Y/N.”

You force a small, tired smile. “But we can’t let him know that.”

He exhales, clearly frustrated but unable to argue. “Fine. But I’m not letting you out of my sight.” You nod, pretending to agree.

But deep down, you already know that the moment Jungkook falls asleep tonight, you’re leaving.

Alone.

It’s a little past midnight when you finally slip out of Jungkook’s apartment.

You hesitate at the door, glancing back at his sleeping form. Even in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you can see the tension on his face. He had been restless for hours, his body stiff with unease, as if sensing that something was wrong.

You had pretended to fall asleep just so he could relax. It worked eventually. But now, as you step out into the cold night, a bitter weight settles in your chest.

Jungkook would never forgive you for this.

But this is the only way.

You move quickly, keeping to the shadows as you make your way to your apartment. The streets are eerily quiet, the distant hum of the city muffled by the pounding of your heart. Every step you take feels heavier like you're walking toward something inevitable.

Suddenly you hear a second set of footsteps.

You don’t have time to react before a hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your startled gasp.

Before you can struggle, an arm wraps around your waist in a vice-like grip, dragging you off the sidewalk. The world tilts as you're yanked into a dark alleyway. Your pulse hammers against your ribs as you thrash against the hold, but it’s uselessm his grip is unyielding, effortlessly strong.

A low, deep chuckle brushes against your ear, sending a sickening shiver down your spine.

"Took you long enough, doll."

Taehyung had grown impatient waiting for you to show up. Without warning, he forcefully turns you to face him, his grip unrelenting. The sudden contact sends a jolt of fear through you, and seeing him again after all these years feels like being doused in ice water.

Time has changed him, but not enough. His face is still achingly familiar from the sharp jawline, the tattoos that snake up the expanse of his neck to the piercing eyes that burn with something much darker.

A part of you always knew this day would come. You had told yourself that the way Taehyung left without so much as hurting you was too good to be true, but maybe, just maybe he had realised he was in the wrong and disappeared into the past like a bad dream. But now, standing here with his breath hot against your skin, you realize how foolish you were to think he’d ever let you go.

"You thought I wouldn’t come back for you?" he whispers against your ear, his voice sickeningly soft.

Your breath stutters. You try to shove him away, but he’s faster amd stronger. His grip tightens as he forces you back, slamming you against the cold, unforgiving brick wall of the alley. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, and before you can recover, his fingers press into your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.

The streetlamp above casts a sliver of light over him, illuminating the twisted smile on his lips.

"I gave you everything, and you threw me away for him?"

Resentment drips from every word, his voice cracking with something raw.

"I should’ve taught you a lesson years ago."

Your heart hammers in your chest, panic locking your limbs in place. But before you can even react—

A force rips Taehyung away from you, sending him crashing onto the pavement with a brutal thud.

Jungkook stands over him, breath uneven, fists still clenched from the impact. His usual softness is nowhere to be found—his expression is cold, lethal.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it that makes the air feel heavier.

Taehyung chuckles darkly. “I knew you’d come running.”

Jungkook doesn’t take the bait. His eyes flick to you, scanning for any sign of injury, before settling back on Taehyung with something dangerously close to disgust.

“You don’t get to lay a hand on her,” Jungkook says, his voice steady. “Not now. Not ever.”

Taehyung chuckles again, pushing himself up with an air of arrogance. He rolls his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as if this is all a joke to him.

"You?" He scoffs, eyes glinting with amusement. "Defending her?" His gaze flickers to you, sharp and accusing. "I bet she never even told you what she did to me."

Jungkook doesn’t flinch nor does he hesitate. His voice is calm, unwavering. "She didn’t do anything." He steps forward, eyes locked onto Taehyung like he’s daring him to try again. "I know she’s mine. And I know you’re just a lying, manipulative piece of shit."

Taehyung's smirk vanishes.

In a flash, he lunges.

Jungkook barely dodges, twisting to the side just in time, but Taehyung is relentless. He moves fast, and Jungkook isn’t a fighter he doesn’t have brute force or years of experience throwing punches. But what he does have is speed, quick reflexes and the sheer, unshakable will to protect you.

A fist catches Jungkook’s side, making him stagger back, but he barely registers the pain before Taehyung moves toward you again.

And that’s when Jungkook stops thinking.

His hand finds a broken pipe lying in the dirt. In one swift motion, he grips it tight and swings, slamming it straight into Taehyung’s stomach.

A sharp gasp rips from Taehyung’s throat as he doubles over, coughing violently. But he’s not down. Not yet.

Jungkook doesn’t wait. He reaches for you, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist. His eyes meet yours, urgent and fierce.

"Run."

The pounding of your footsteps echoes against the pavement, your lungs burning as you push yourself to keep running. The night air is thick, every breath heavy with exhaustion and fear.

Behind you, Taehyung is gaining. His ragged breaths cut through the silence, his footsteps unrelenting.

“You think you can run from me?” His voice is sharp, twisted with amusement and fury. A metallic glint catches the dim streetlights indicating he has a knife now.

Panic seizes your chest.

Jungkook’s grip tightens around your wrist. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t hesitate just yanks you sharply to the side. Your vision blurs as he drags you toward a dark, skeletal structure.

A construction site.

You stumble into the half-built building, weaving through stacks of bricks and steel beams. The scent of dust and concrete fills your lungs as you press yourself into the shadows, trying to quiet your frantic breathing.

Jungkook releases you only to crouch down, scanning the ground. His fingers curl around a rusted wrench, heavy in his grip. It’s not much, but it’s something.

“Stay behind me,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the fear you know he must be feeling. Your heart slams against your ribs. Your thoughts are spiralling. You should have been more careful, quieter when slipping out of the house. You can't believe you're the reason Jungkook is in danger, that he is the one standing between you and the threat. It should be you protecting him, not the other way around.

The footsteps slow. Taehyung has followed you inside.

A chilling silence settles over the space.

Then, a low chuckle.

“You can’t hide forever.” His voice is laced with amusement, the scrape of his knife dragging along metal making you flinch. “Come on, Jungkook. You really think you can protect her?”

Jungkook doesn’t move, his stance solid, wrench gripped tightly, shoulders squared. The tension is suffocating, every second stretching unbearably. You don’t dare breathe. Then Taehyung moves. The knife slices through the air.

Jungkook barely dodges, instinct driving his body before his mind catches up. The blade misses him by inches, but there’s no time to think, theres no time to breath, only react.

With everything he has, he swings the wrench. It connects hard against Taehyung’s wrist.

The knife clatters to the ground.

But Jungkook doesn’t stop this time.

His fist collides with Taehyung’s jaw, the impact ringing in the empty construction site. The force of it sends Taehyung staggering back, his body slamming against a stack of bricks. He’s weak now, unsteady, but still smiling like he’s enjoying this.

And then, in a last, desperate attempt, he speaks.

“You really think you’ve changed, Jungkook?” Taehyung breathes, voice laced with mockery. He spits blood onto the dust-covered ground, laughing through the pain. “You’re still the same pathetic kid I used to toy with. Weak. Spineless.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

“You’ll never be enough for her.”

The words land heavier than any punch ever could. For a split second, Jungkook falters. The old wounds, the taunts, the bruises, and the humiliation come rushing back. The memories claw at the edges of his mind, threatening to pull him under.

He remembers the way they used to laugh at him, the cruelty in their voices, the way they looked at him like he was nothing. Like he would always be nothing. He was the loser, the punching bag, the boy who never fought back. Every insult had carved itself into his skin, every shove had left something deeper than just bruises. They made him believe it. That he was worthless. That he would never be enough.

And then there was you. You. The only light in the darkness, the only person who had ever looked at him without disgust. He fell so hard, so helplessly in love with you, even though you belonged to Taehyung. It was cruel, really. The way fate played its hand. You were Taehyung’s girlfriend, yet you were the only one who saw Jungkook. The only one who stood up for him when Taehyung and his gang pushed him down. When he was at his lowest, you were there, offering kindness.

But how could you have chosen him? Him? A pathetic loser who had spent years as the butt of every joke, the weakling who was too afraid to fight back. He hears the echoes of their laughter, the mocking whispers that still live inside his head. Maybe they were right. Maybe he really is nothing. Maybe you made a mistake choosing him.

Taehyung’s voice is smooth and insidious, wrapping around him like a noose. The doubt, the shame, the years of self-hatred it all pulls him under, dragging him back to a place he swore he’d never return to. His fists loosen at his sides, his body feels too heavy, like he’s sinking into the past, like he's losing himself all over again.

But then—you.

You, standing behind him. The warmth of your presence, the unwavering belief in your eyes. The way you never once hesitated to love him, to choose him. His heart pounds against his ribs, pushing away the suffocating weight of the past.

No. No.

He is not that boy anymore. He is not weak. And he will not let Taehyung twist his mind, not when he has you to protect.

The hesitation vanishes as Jungkook moves, striking once, then again, each blow fueled by something raw, something deeper than anger—something desperate. His jaw is clenched, muscles taut, as if he is holding back years of something buried deep inside, something he never let himself feel until now. You have never seen him like this. Then another hit. And another.

His knuckles split, blood dripping onto the cold concrete, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not until Taehyung stops moving.

The only sound left is Jungkook’s ragged breathing. His chest heaves, his hands shaking.

His eyes, dark and unfocused, burn with an intensity you have never seen before. It is not just fear, nor is it just anger. It is something far more terrifying in its certainty, something that does not waver, something that does not break. It is an unrelenting, all-consuming protectiveness, the kind that leaves no room for hesitation, no space for doubt. And the most haunting part of it all—you know he did it for you.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is sof t but it cuts through the chaos like a blade.

He freezes.

His chest rises and falls in uneven bursts, his knuckles raw and bloodied. His grip on the wrench trembles, muscles locked so tightly you wonder if he even hears you.

Then he looks at you, and in that moment, something inside him fractures. The fury that had burned so fiercely in his eyes splinters, crumbling into something far more fragile: fear. But it is not fear for himself. It is for you. For what could have happened. For what he almost became.

You take a step closer, carefully, like you’re approaching a wounded animal. His breathing is ragged, his body strung so tight it might snap. But he doesn’t move away when you reach for him.

Fingers brushing against his wrist, you gently pry the wrench from his grip. His hand is still trembling when it slips from his grasp, clattering onto the ground.

“It’s over,” you whisper, your voice steady even as your own hands shake. “I’m okay.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat working around unspoken words. The wail of sirens cuts through the heavy silence, distant but growing closer. Someone must have heard the commotion and called the police.

Taehyung groans from where he lies sprawled on the ground, too weak to move, too beaten to fight. But you barely spare him a glance.

Jungkook exhales shakily, his entire body trembling with the aftermath of it all. His fists are still clenched, his knuckles still bleeding, but his eyes are different now.

They are not just the eyes of your sweet, oblivious boyfriend anymore.

He steps closer, hesitant, hands hovering over your arms, your waist, checking, searching, needing to convince himself that you’re still here. That you’re real.

“I could’ve lost you,” he breathes, his voice rough, breaking at the edges.

The weight of his words settles deep in your chest.

You reach up, cupping his face, your thumb skimming over the small cut on his cheek. He flinches at the touch, but not from pain he just wasn’t expecting something so gentle.

“But you didn’t,” you murmur.

Jungkook’s breath shudders out of him. His lashes flutter shut for a second, his jaw tightening like he’s holding something in, something overwhelming, something too big to put into words.

Then, in a voice so quiet, so broken, it almost shatters you

“I was so scared.”

And just like that, everything collapses.

The rage, the adrenaline, the fear everything he had forced himself to carry, to bury, it all crumbles in one breath.

You don’t hesitate. You pull him into you, arms wrapping around him, and he clings back just as tightly. His grip is almost desperate, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

Then, suddenly, he tilts his head down, capturing your lips in his.

The kiss is not careful. It’s not soft.

It’s raw. Desperate. Heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

His lips press against yours with an urgency that steals your breath, like he’s trying to pour everything he feels into this moment. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he wants to lose himself in you, in the feeling of you alive and warm in his arms.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, anchoring him to you, and he sighs into your mouth—a broken, trembling sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

When you finally pull back, foreheads pressed together, Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, uneven and ragged.

He’s still shaking.

And you hold him tighter, letting him feel it all.

The flashing red and blue lights spill across the pavement as the police cars screech to a stop.

Jungkook pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands still cradling your waist, like he’s reluctant to break contact. His eyes search yours, and for the first time since this nightmare began, you see something unshakable in them.

Taehyung’s screams cut through the air as he thrashes against the officers, his wrists locked in cold steel. His voice is hoarse, spewing empty threats, venom dripping from every syllable—

“This isn’t over!” he snarls. “You think you can take her from me?”

Jungkook doesn’t react. He doesn’t even spare Taehyung a glance.

Instead, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingers lightly against your cheek, grounding himself in the fact that you’re safe.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is low, steady. A quiet promise.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

And for the first time you believe him.

Because this isn’t the same Jungkook who was oblivious, who used to let things slide, the one who always saw the good in people even when they didn’t deserve it.

This is the Jungkook who stood his ground.

The Jungkook who fought for you.

And if the world ever tried to take you away from him again, he wouldn’t hesitate.

The park is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of late morning light. Birds flit between the branches, their songs blending with the gentle rustling of leaves. A cool breeze brushes against your skin, carrying the scent of freshly baked pastries from the open basket beside you.

Jungkook sits across from you on the checkered picnic blanket, absently poking at his croissant with a fork. His knuckles are bandaged and a faint bruise lingers on his cheek just below the strip of medical tape.

You watch him, waiting.

He hasn’t said much about it. But the way he holds himself now, shoulders squared just a little more, gaze a little steadier it feels different.

“You know,” you start, plucking a strawberry from the fruit bowl and tossing it into your mouth. “For once, I wasn’t the one saving your ass.”

Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t remind me,” he mutters, but there’s a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “I’m still getting used to it.”

“You should be proud,” you tell him, shifting onto your knees so you’re closer. “Not just because you fought. But because you didn’t let him win.”

Jungkook exhales, rolling his jaw like he’s still processing the weight of it. “I used to think…” He hesitates, gaze flickering down to his hands. “That I’d never be the kind of guy who could protect someone. That I’d always be the loser who let things slide.”

You reach out, fingers curling over his bandaged knuckles, squeezing gently. “You were never a loser, Jungkook.”

You trace a light touch over the bruise on his cheek. “And if you’re measuring strength by how many fights you win, you’re missing the point.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch, his fingers tightening around yours. “Oh yeah? And what’s the point, then?”

“That you were strong even before this,” you murmur. “You didn’t need to throw a punch to prove that. But I think… you finally see it now, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but the tension in his shoulders eases. Then, with a soft chuckle, he tilts his head and smirks. “So what you’re saying is… you’re swooning over me right now.”

You roll your eyes, but your laugh gives you away. “Unbelievable. One heroic moment and your ego skyrockets.”

“What can I say?” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I’m basically a knight in shining armor now.”

You groan. “You’re literally covered in bandages, Jungkook.”

“Battle scars,” he corrects smugly.

“You are so—”

He cuts you off with a kiss.

His lips taste like the strawberries you were just eating, but there’s something else too, something warmer. The quiet relief of knowing you’re here. That you’re safe. That you chose him, again and again.

When you finally pull away, Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, exhaling quietly. “I wouldn’t hesitate,” he murmurs. “If it ever happens again. If the world ever tries to take you away from me.”

Your heart clenches. You press a kiss to his bruised cheek, whispering against his skin. “I know.”

For a while, you just sit there, basking in the quiet hum of the park, in the way his fingers stay laced with yours. The past still lingers, but it doesn’t hold you down.

You’re here together.

And for now, that’s all that matters.

taglist: @iamstilljk @juikmon @smoljimjim @11thenightwemet11 @namelesskeid @theboyzhelicopter @cristinamajadera @talyaaas-blog @nbjch05 @subgoogie @jjkookiee346 @gogogith @lectrice-ios @ziyaexe @mellyyyyyyx @dna-black-and-blue @sparklycheesecakenacho @pelicanpizza @whoa-jo @dillydandydaisy @somehowukook @tititania @purplelanterns @koodollylvr @honeeybunneey @jenniebyrubies @vantelover1306 @mar-lo-pap @whoreformarlenemckinnon @xumyboo @bumblebee041019 @gaebestie @coquitting @ecomidnight @fancypeacepersona @lizzy23-02 @rpwprpwprpwprw @starlight-1010 @piggaloaf @inkdrinkershadowsinger @satisfied18

@pinkpunkdynamite @reallygenerouskoala @amarawayne @minniejim @ennvfv @senaqsstuff @raraluvz @hoseokteardrop @shellyyy177 @lowercaseurself @futuristicenemychaos @missthang600 @aeriblu @morkleeespizzacake @ahgasegotarmy116 @g1rlonth3intern3t @diamonddia-mond @dontcallmeelle @brokebitch-101 @namj00n-ing @elegantdevill1 @somehowukook @prxdajeon @scentedsope @kazuahhh @handsomejin25 @ukndtwme @larajs97 @nikidream24 @taekritimin123 @achurroandbananamilk @annenakamura @solephile @honeymeraki @btsiguess-kpop @magicalnachocreator @viacb97 @likeshatteredrainbowglass @brokebitch-101

lmk ur thots <3

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thefemmeprince · 19 days ago

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what if you were at a bts concert and then blackpink showed up and jennie said she had a thing for jungkook and rosé starts making heart eyes at suga and jisoo makes an offhanded comment about v's abs and you're like "wow this is crazy are they even allowed to do this" and then blackpink kills bts live on stage and you're like "no way that just happened. blackpink wouldn't do that" but also you never hear from bts again and no one sees them ever again so they probably are really dead and you just have to deal with it as ur forcefully converted from army to blink after one concert

edit: i forgot that blackpink had a public breakup before this. on stage. at the idol awards. with jisoo and rose teaming up on jennie and bullying her. on stage. at the idol awards.

#kpop demon hunters #rujinu #huntr/x #saja boys #i am more a blink than an army so the bts comparisons are probably very off

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slutty4jk · 11 days ago

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KISS ME! | JJK › PART 1

Summary: You and Jungkook have known each other your whole lives. Childhood best friends turned almost something more. He’s charming, popular, and scared of commitment. You’re ambitious, guarded, and tired of being a maybe.

After one kiss changes everything, you realize wanting him isn’t enough if he won’t choose you back. But walking away is easier said than done.

University brings distance, jealousy, and new people. You’re ready to move on. He’s finally starting to realize he can’t. Not when it’s always been you.

pairing: childhoodbestfriend!jungkook x (fem) reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, kinda toxic but delicious, mutual pining, fluff & eventual smut

rating: 18+ (mdni!!)

word count: 3.7k 💌

warnings: emotional whiplash, jealousy, possessive behavior, fear of commitment, unresolved tension, mutual obsession, brief mentions of sex, hurt/comfort, pining, lots of yearning

A/N: I finally hit post!!!! AAAAAAAA I’ve always been anxious about sharing anything I create, so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe. This is my first fic (kinda), so please be gentle with me. I’m also lowkey new to Tumblr, so I’m just going off what I’ve seen other fanfic creators do, hopefully I’m doing this right. I don’t have too many solid plans for this story yet, but I truly hope you stick around. Also hope this lives up to the hype the teaser got heheh 🤓 Happy reading! - Ivy ₍^. .^₎Ⳋ

Taglist: @akirawhore @amarawayne @jahnaviii @crazyovayou @niniythv @dollyunjinz @yungies @caaally @aestheticalime @flaneuseonthestreets @goldenko-97 @lachimolalajeon @buckylov3r @labbbaaa @bts123746 @chxiosworld @amarawayne @qu3t @littlecherri @alessiamargaux @lokislittlemouse-library @enchantingeagleengineer @jeoncasino @minnie-mouser22 @tinytangerineangel @yourlittleslutcums @httpjeonlicious @uaremyserene @intro-bts @glossyxiaoting @cdllevantae

please like, reblog, follow & scream into the void for more! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

KISSME!MOODBOARD | KISSME!PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST ⭑.ᐟ

(One Year Ago)

You’ve known Jeon Jungkook since the day he was born. Your moms were best friends before either of you even existed, girls who grew up together, fell in love with life side by side, and then raised their kids side by side too. You were born in February, and just like fate, Jungkook followed in September, just six months behind you, and from that moment on, it was the two of you. Always.

You were inseparable. Friends before you even understood what friendship meant. Sleepovers, scraped knees, shared snacks, birthday candles blown out together, all of it.

And then high school happened.

You drifted. Slowly, painfully. The way people sometimes do when the world starts asking more of them.

You went to a top-ranked all-girls private school, the kind with uniforms pressed to perfection, essays that weighed as much as bricks, and girls who competed to see who could have the best grades. Jungkook ended up at the local public school. It was louder, messier, freer. His parents wanted him to have a social circle outside of the snooty prep school one.

You started moving in different circles, living different lives. And somewhere along the way, your daily texts became weekly, then monthly, and then… nothing at all.

So when he invited you to a house party at his friend’s place, you were shocked. And maybe a little bit hopeful. Maybe this meant something. A bridge being rebuilt.

You dressed carefully that night. A pale pink tweed dress with gold buttons, white stockings, and shiny Mary Janes. Definitely overdressed for a house party, but you didn’t care. You wanted to look good. Maybe even wanted him to notice.

He didn’t.

He barely looked at you when you got in his car. Just a casual nod. No compliment. No hug. No "I missed you.” Or just a simple “How’s life?” To catch up.

It stung.

You quickly realized the only reason you were even invited was because his mom insisted he bring someone she trusted in order for him to go, and that someone was you.

As soon as you got there, he ditched you, disappearing in the crowd. You stood awkwardly by the drinks table, sipping a Coke Zero, the cold fizz sharp on your tongue. You didn’t know anyone. Everyone else seemed to know everyone. Loud laughter, inside jokes, bodies swaying to the beat.

You felt overdressed, overlooked, and completely out of place. People stared. Girls whispered. But you held your head high like your mom taught you.

You searched the crowd for Jungkook and when you found him, your heart sank.

He was on the couch, some girl straddling his lap, his hands gripping her waist, her fingers tangled in his hair. Mouths moving like they were starving. Oblivious to everyone else in the room.

Your stomach twisted so hard it felt like it was trying to fold in on itself. A bitter sting crawled up your throat, sharp and sour, like you’d swallowed regret.

Suddenly, the air felt too thick. You weren’t supposed to be here. You should’ve said no. You just wanted to spend time with him.

That’s all.

You pushed the patio door open, letting the cool night air wash over you. Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, fighting off the chill and the burn in your chest. It felt like stepping into a different world, darker, quieter, with the distant thump of bass bleeding from inside. You leaned against the railing, trying to relax a bit.

“Hey,” a voice said behind you, soft but close. You jumped, your spine going stiff as you turned.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” the guy said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. His lips quirked up, amused. “Though… I’m starting to think you scare easy.”

You startled and turned fast, your pulse kicking up.

“You’re real smooth,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes.

He grinned. “Smooth’s better than sleazy, right?”

“You always approach girls like that?”

“Only the ones standing alone in expensive shoes.”

You glanced down at your Mary Janes.

“And what if I’m just lost?”

“Then I guess I’m lucky.”

You tried not to smile, but failed.

“What’s your name?” He was handsome and looked like the type that would break your heart. Why not let him entertain you for a while?

“Eunwoo,” he said, shifting closer. “And you’re…?”

“Y/N.”

“Pretty name,” he said, leaning one elbow against the railing beside you. “Let me guess. St. Michael’s?”

You blinked. “How’d you know?”

“You’ve got that energy,” he said. “Put together. Fancy. But kind of annoyed to be here.”

You let out a dry laugh. “That obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s also pretending to have fun.”

You smiled. He was disarming, in that effortlessly flirty way that made you want to roll your eyes and lean in closer.

“You don’t seem like the house party type either,” you said.

“Not when half the people here still think fart jokes are peak comedy,” he replied but you could tell he only says that to impress you.

You let out a soft laugh, for real this time. “You’re not wrong.”

He tilted his head at you. “So, what’s your deal? You here with someone?”

You hesitated. “I got ditched the second we got here.”

His expression flickered, just for a second. “Ah. That makes sense.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re way too pretty to be standing out here alone if you weren’t.” The compliment caught you off guard.

“Do you always flirt like this?” you asked, half teasing.

“Only when I mean it. I can keep you company, if you want.”

You hesitated, then smiled faintly. “I’d like that.” You were done feeling lonely at this dumb party.

You chatted for a while, nothing too deep. Just a little bit of distraction from the ache in your chest as you sipped on your drink.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” he asked suddenly, eyes searching your face.

You shook your head. “No.” You could have but going to an all girls school made that kind of social circle a bit more difficult.

“Really? That’s hard to believe.”

You laughed softly. “I’m not interested in that sort of thing right now.”

He tilted his head. “Interesting.” He just wanted to know if you were single or not.

You looked up at him. “What about you? Do you have anyone special in your life?”

“Got dumped this morning.” He admits.

You look surprised as he says that, you would have never guessed with the way he was talking to you right now.

“Oh. Sorry.” Your tone is a bit regretful. You hadn’t expected him to respond with… that.

He shrugged. “We didn’t click. Guess I was meant to be alone.”

You echoed his earlier words. “I can keep you company, if you want.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“And how would you do that?”

You didn’t know what came over you, but you said it anyway.

“What if I said you could kiss me?”

He blinked, then smirked. “I'd ask if you were serious.”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” You lean in.

He leaned in, slow, deliberate. “You’re trouble,” he murmured.

You tilted your chin up. “Do you like trouble?”

“Depends on the kind.” he murmurs and then he kissed you.

He kissed you. Gentle at first, then hungrier. You kissed him back, maybe out of loneliness, maybe out of spite. You weren’t sure. But for a brief moment, it felt nice to be wanted.

You didn’t notice the group of boys by the pool bar watching.

Didn’t see the money exchanging hands.

Didn’t see Jungkook stepping out on the patio.

Jungkook stepped outside just in time to see it. The way your hands clung to Eunwoo’s collar, how his fingers were brushing the hem of your dress lowering to your ass like he had every right to. The kiss was already too far gone. His pace slowed down, eyes narrowing.

A group of his friends stood nearby, some grinning, some groaning, throwing bills into a baseball cap at the poolside bar. His gaze flicked to the hat full of crumpled bills.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked, his voice low, guarded.

Mingi didn’t even look up. “We bet Eunwoo he wouldn’t be able to kiss the rich girl in under an hour.” They were watching as if to see what would happen next, ready to add more money into the hat.

“He did it in 45 minutes, he a real sweet talker,” Mingyu added with a chuckle, popping a chip in his mouth like it was just another Friday night. "I wonder if she'll sleep with him.." he thinks out loud.

Jungkook’s nostrils flared.

They made a bet for a kiss and now he might take you to bed?

His eyes flicked back to the hat stuffed with cash, to the smug look on Eunwoo’s face, to your soft smile, the one you used to give him when you were kids.

It reminded him of summers in your neighbourhood, you in your silly sandals and ribboned braids, waiting for him on the porch with two popsicles, always saving one for him.

That smile used to be his.

He remembered it like a favourite song, sweet, familiar. But now? Now you were smiling like that at someone else. And it burned.

You weren’t the girl on the porch anymore; you were all grown up, and now someone completely new got to see that side of you. Someone else got to make you laugh like that. And it made his chest tighten in a way he hated.

He felt something shift in his chest, like his heart had just dropped straight into his stomach. Was it jealousy? Was it disgust? At them or at himself? For leaving you alone? For bringing you here in the first place?

He couldn’t even name what it was, but it felt wrong.

He was moving before he even realized it.

He stormed across the patio, clearing his throat loud enough to slice through the moment.

You broke the kiss first, startled. Eunwoo smirked, the kind of lazy, satisfied grin that made your skin crawl. He knew exactly what he’d done. He had gotten under Jungkook’s skin. He had won the bet, he kissed the girl.

“Y/N,” Jungkook snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut through the noise. He’s standing stiffly just a few feet away, strong arms crossed over his chest. "Let's go."

You blink at him, lips still parted, confused by his sudden intrusion. “What? I was just starting to have fun.” You grumble like a child.

His jaw tightens. “Kissing strangers is fun?” There’s something biting in his tone. Not just judgment, jealousy, too. Thinly veiled and barely contained.

You scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “You do it.” You just saw him. That girl on his lap, his hands all over her. You didn’t know if they had history or if they were dating but he never mentioned her to you, he never even brought up having a crush.

He’s one to talk.

His eyes flash. “No, I don’t.” It’s not a lie, not exactly. But the way he says it, quiet and defensive, you know he means something else.

“Remind me. Was that your girlfriend or just your entertainment for the night?” Your voice is cold, sharp as glass. You're not just asking. You're accusing.

He knows exactly who and what you're talking about. You saw him back there. Hands all over her like you weren’t even there.

His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t even look surprised. “Trust me,” he mutters, voice tight. “I know her.”

You laughed bitterly. “Yeah. That makes it better.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but nothing came out.

“Can you just leave me alone?” you muttered, voice tight as you brought your arms up around Eunwoo’s neck. Maybe out of spite, maybe out of pain.

If Jungkook could ditch you for some random girl, then why shouldn’t you do the same thing to him?

“No.” Jungkook grabbed your shoulder, firm, pulling you back to face him again.

Eunwoo chimed in lazily, “She’s fine with me, man.” His hands slid to your lower back, hands lowering a little too low for Jungkook's liking.

That did it.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened as he stepped forward, closing the space between them. “Get your fucking hands off her,” he growled.

One arm moved around you, yanking you out of Eunwoo’s grasp and behind him like you were something to protect and to claim.

Eunwoo smirked. He liked this. Getting under Jungkook’s skin like it was part of the game. As if he knew Jungkook had the hots for you.

But wasn’t it already obvious?

“Stop,” you snapped, louder this time, your voice cutting between them. “Both of you.” You didn’t want to cause a scene. Especially since you already stood out in this crowd.

Jungkook turned to you, jaw tight. “Y/N. Go to the car.”

It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command. He was pissed.

You didn’t argue this time. You were tired. You wanted to leave anyway. You turned, heading out to the driveway without sparing a glance at either of them. You probably wouldn’t see Eunwoo ever again, so you didn’t even bother saying goodbye or give him a chance to ask you for your number.

Once you were out of earshot, Jungkook took one threatening step closer to Eunwoo, voice low and sharp. “If I ever catch you making bets about her again, I’ll break both your fucking legs. Got it?”

Eunwoo rolled his eyes and lifted his hands like he was innocent. But the message was clear.

He didn’t move. His fists stayed clenched, like holding on could stop everything else from slipping. He was angry. At Eunwoo. At you. Maybe at himself.

But beneath it all, shame was twisting in his gut.

And something else he didn’t want to name.

Something that felt a lot like heartbreak.

Jungkook found you outside, standing by his car with your arms wrapped around yourself, the cool night air brushing against your legs.

That dress, as pretty as it was, wasn’t built for cold air, or this party.

But you already knew that.

And now someone else had touched you. Kissed you.

His stomach turned.

What the hell were you thinking? Letting some stranger put his hands on you like that? Letting him taste you like it meant nothing?

You weren’t like that. At least… you never used to be.

You weren’t just some girl. You were his best friend. Or… you had been.

So why did it feel like he was already losing something he never even got the chance to have?

You didn’t look at him when he approached.

“What was that about?” he asked, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, eyes fixed on the pavement. “What?”

“Kissing that guy?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, voice quiet. “Maybe I just wanted to have fun.” Your tone was sarcastic.

He let out a sharp breath, stepping in closer. “Eunwoo’s not a good guy. He cheated on his last girlfriend like six times.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” You grumble, hugging yourself from the cold.

Jungkook scoffed. “Well, he’s not. They were making a bet to see if Eunwoo could kiss you and probably take you to bed right after! Are you that easy, Y/N?”

His voice was laced with anger, sharp and bitter, the words cutting before he could stop them.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Wow. So now I’m easy? Is that what you think of me? Just some spoiled girl who jumps at the first guy who calls her pretty?”

He clenched his jaw. “Well, it seems like it, doesn’t it?”

You took a step back, your voice rising. “What’s your problem? Why are you getting so mad that I kissed some guy? I don’t care if it was a bet, I was having fun. I wasn’t even supposed to be here, was I? Your mom needed me to keep an eye on you, huh?”

His eyes widened slightly.

You hit a nerve. You read him like an open book.

You turned away, angry, pulling at the handle of the locked car door.

He exhaled, voice lower now. “You weren’t supposed to come… but I brought you anyway, didn’t I? You were supposed to hang around me. Not those other guys, you don’t know what their intentions are.” He scolds you.

That made you snap your head toward him. “With you?” you repeated. “You invited me, then ditched me the second we walked in. I didn’t know anyone. You knew that!” You exclaim angrily.

“I didn’t think—”

“Exactly,” you cut him off. “You didn’t think.”

You blinked at him, heat rushing up your throat. “I looked for you. And I found you with some girl practically dry-humping you in the middle of the living room.”

He dropped his gaze, jaw clenched.

You shook your head, laugh bitter. “I felt so stupid. I thought maybe you invited me because you wanted to see me. Like maybe we’d talk. Catch up. I dressed up and everything—”

He interrupted you. “I noticed.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did, Y/N.” His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it made your breath catch. “You look beautiful.”

Your arms dropped from around yourself. “Then why didn’t you say anything?” you huff, your voice vulnerable.

It wasn't about the compliment. It was about him acknowledging you, him making a stupid comment about how you were overdressed just like he would before.

Jungkook looked at you then, really looked. And there it was.

That flicker in his eyes. That quiet ache.

The one that said everything he didn’t know how to say.

You shook your head, voice softer now. “I felt like you didn’t even want me there. Like you were embarrassed to be around me.”

He stepped in. “That’s not true.”

“Then what is?” you say, staring at him, waiting for him to say something, anything. He didn’t answer, though. Instead, his hand reached for your arm, just lightly, just enough to ground you both.

You let out a breath. “We used to be best friends.”

Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head. “We’re not little kids anymore, Y/N. That whole best friends thing? It doesn’t work like that.”

Your jaw tightened. “No, it does… you just stopped knowing how to be one.” Your words hung in the air, sharp and defensive.

“You’re the prettiest girl here,” he added, softer now, like that would change the ache between you. Even he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. He said it suddenly, quietly… like it slipped out before he could stop it. Like he was only just realizing it himself.

You scoffed, stepping back. Your voice rose, raw. “Pretty? Please. Is this a bet too? You invite me out here, ditch me, get pissed when someone else kisses me like it matters, and now you call me pretty like that makes it okay?”

He flinched. Your words hit harder than you knew, because he’d already asked himself those same questions. What the hell was he doing? Why was he so mad when he was the one who messed up first?

Your voice cracked, and your hands shoved at his chest. “Tell me, Jungkook. Are you doing this just to see if I’m really that easy? Or do you mean it? Do you really care about me?”

You hit his chest again. Once. Twice. You hit him again, and he didn't stop you, not until the ache in his chest became unbearable. Then, gently, he caught your wrists. His touch wasn’t rough. It was careful but cautious.

He swallowed, his jaw tight. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt. And then, when your eyes finally met his… it hit him all at once.

The fear. The guilt. The jealousy. The truth.

He was afraid of this… of you, of what this could mean, but more than anything, he was afraid he’d already lost you.

His gaze dropped, unable to hold yours.

His voice, when it came, was barely a whisper.

“I mean it.”

It wasn’t slick or charming or sure of itself. It was broken open and vulnerable, scraped raw and trembling with something too big to name.

You froze.

Something in you shifted.

He lifted his eyes again, slowly, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the boy who had always been your best friend. The boy who still cared, the look on his face stole the breath from your lungs.

Regret, longing, fear, hope. All tangled in one unbearable glance.

And then, like everything in the world had been building to this, he kissed you. Not like a mistake. Not like a dare. Like a promise he was too scared to speak out loud.

And you kissed him back because despite everything, part of you had been waiting for this your whole life. It was sudden and deep, full of everything neither of you had the guts to say.

His hands cradled your jaw, warm and trembling slightly, like he was afraid you'd vanish if he let go.

When you pulled away, lips tingling, you whispered, “I thought I wasn’t supposed to kiss random boys.” You teased.

Jungkook leaned in again, his forehead pressed to yours. “You know damn well I’m not a random boy.”

The second kiss was messier. Needy, deep, slow, desperate. Familiar in a way that made your chest ache.

One moment you were in the driveway, the next, in the backseat of his car. Your heart was racing. His touch was careful but confident, his fingers memorizing every line of you like a secret only he got to know.

And even though it scared you, how fast it was happening, how much it meant, it didn’t feel wrong.

It felt like the beginning of something you didn’t quite understand yet. But it was yours. His, too.

That night, in the backseat of his car, under the streetlight glow and distant hum of a party you didn’t belong to, you gave yourself to him for the first time. The windows fogged. The car rocked gently. And for a while, nothing else mattered except the quiet gasps, the whispered names, the fingers grasping for something real.

And for a moment, just one, it felt like maybe he belonged to you too.

Or at least… you hoped he did.

1K notes · View notes

cigarettesuga · 14 days ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ don't get it twisted ୨ৎ ( myg. )

✸⠀⠀PREMISE ⠀⠀፧⠀⠀ after their late-night studio hookup, yoongi wakes up still feeling her — under his skin, in his mouth, everywhere. she’s not his, not officially, but she’s everywhere. and when he sees her again at work, dodging his eyes and pretending nothing happened, he starts to realize just how badly he wants more than just her body. when she shows up with food, teasing smiles, and that fucking scent that doesn’t belong to him… it spirals. there’s jealousy, confessions whispered into lips, and a whole lot of filthy, possessive sex that tastes suspiciously like love.

featuring⠀idol!yoongi x producer!f!reader⠀・ themes⠀friends with benefits turned into messy feelings ending in emotional smut fest, heavy tention, angst, smut, fluff ・ wc⠀11.4k⠀・ lu's note⠀part two is finally here and it’s filthy and tender all at the same time. brace yourself, bc this is basically porn with a little bit of plot at the beginning. it took me forever to decide whether to just write this as a quick follow-up or stretch it into two more parts, but honestly? i think i love the way it turned out like this. likes, comments or anything to let me know you’re enjoying the content i make are so very appreciated. so pls pls pls let me know how you liked this follow-up to “too good at pretending.” your support means the world⠀・ navi

warnings⠀・explicit sexual content, oral sex (f + m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex (she's on the pill but still risky behavior), cum play / cum on skin (thighs), cum eating kink, facial / swallowing kink (reader shows him before swallowing), dirty talk, vocal yoongi, praising + slight degradation, public-ish sex (after-hours at hybe), overstimulation, grinding, soft edging, eye contact kink, intense intimacy, possessiveness, jealousy, soft dom!yoongi energy, subtle sub!reader moments (begging, obedience, oral fixation, emotional conflict in the form of "is this still casual?" (spoiler: is not), confessions masked as dirty talk, mutual longing, soft aftercare, gentle teasing, fwb arrangement falling apart in the most delicious way

he wakes up with the taste of her still on his tongue.

the early morning light cuts sharp through the blinds in his apartment, painting pale, angular lines across the rumpled sheets tangled around his legs. it’s quiet — too quiet — the kind of silence that feels full instead of empty, like it’s carrying all the things left unsaid from the night before. yoongi blinks against the brightness, one arm slung over his forehead, already aware that sleep’s long gone.

she’s not in his bed. she never was.

he’s alone, and it’s fine. it’s normal. this is how it works.

but his brain is still playing it all back like a track stuck on loop — the way she whimpered into that blanket, how her hands trembled against his chest, how her voice cracked when she said his name like it meant something. the lace still bunched around her thighs. her hoodie barely covering the flushed skin underneath. the mess she made of him — in more ways than one.

he shifts onto his side with a quiet exhale, staring at nothing, jaw ticking slightly. she’s not yours, he reminds himself. not really. never was. but last night?

last night, she felt like it.

it wasn’t supposed to be like that. not with her half-sprawled over the couch, face pressed to the cushions, sweat cooling against her spine while he held her like something he’d miss in the morning. not with the way her voice got all soft and half-sweet when she mumbled “that’s gonna be hard to top,” and he pretended to roll his eyes even though his chest felt too tight.

yoongi sighs and drags a hand over his face. his phone’s somewhere on the floor, probably dead, and he knows he should get up. shower. check in with the team. respond to emails. exist. but all he can think about is her — how calm she looked when he zipped up his hoodie over her bare skin, how easily she smiled like none of it complicated things.

he gets up eventually. shuffles to the kitchen, makes coffee he doesn’t really want. leans against the counter in just his sweats and scratches at the back of his neck like it’ll do something about the heaviness sitting between his ribs.

it wasn’t just the sex. it never is with her. it’s the way she moves, the quiet moments in between, the way she’s the only person who can pull a fucking laugh out of him when his head’s a mess. she’s loud and chaotic and takes up so much space — and still, he always wants more of her. even when it drives him insane.

he doesn’t know what he expected. that she’d call? text? pretend they didn’t spend half the night wrapped around each other trying to pretend it wasn’t emotional?

maybe.

instead, there’s nothing.

and that’s fine. it’s how they operate. no strings. no promises.

except now she’s everywhere in his head — her voice, her breath, her body, the way she looked back at him with that glassy, wrecked expression like he’d ruined her. like she wanted him to.

he leans over the sink, watching steam curl from the mug in his hand, and exhales slowly.

this is dangerous.

he knows it.

he always did.

but something about last night — the way she let him hold her afterward, the way she curled into him like she trusted him with the quiet — it hit somewhere deeper than it was supposed to.

yoongi presses the mug to his lips and doesn’t drink.

just stares out the window, wondering if she’s awake.

wondering if she’s thinking about him too.

probably not.

she’s got deadlines. demos. an inbox full of producers waiting to work with her. he’s just the guy who showed up when she was stressed. who made her come so hard she couldn’t speak. who left handprints on her hips and walked out like it didn’t change everything.

he should shake it off. he will.

eventually.

he finds his phone under the edge of the bed after returning to the room, face-down and clinging to life with 7% battery. the screen lights up with a soft buzz as it registers movement, a handful of unread messages — none of them from her. he tells himself that’s a good thing. a relief. means they’re both on the same page. detached. unaffected. not thinking about the way her voice cracked when she came apart in his hands.

his thumb hovers over her contact anyway. he doesn’t even have her saved under her name — just a nickname from a stupid inside joke they made when she first started working at the label, something only she would understand. something that feels a little too fond now.

what would he even say?

“how’s the mix coming along?” “good seeing you last night.” “you okay?”

no. too obvious. too boyfriend.

and yoongi — god, he’s not her boyfriend. not even close. he’s the guy she calls when she needs to let go. when her brain’s too loud and her body’s too tense and she needs someone who won’t ask questions. he’s the guy who knows what kind of wine she likes but not who she was before she came to seoul. he’s the guy who kisses her like he means it but never stays past 3am.

except he did stay. last night. or at least long enough to make it complicated.

he locks the phone screen with a sigh and tosses it onto the bed.

his hand runs through his hair as he stands in the hallway, eyes unfocused, still half-stuck in memory. she had her hoodie halfway on, hair a tangled mess, skin flushed, panties ruined. she was leaning over the couch, eyes glassy, mouth open — her fingers clutching the cushion like she was holding on for dear life. he was buried in her, hips snapping forward, sweat dripping down his neck, and she was looking back at him like she fucking owned him.

and maybe she did. maybe she still does.

yoongi huffs out a breath through his nose and heads toward the bathroom, muttering something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to fuck’s sake. the moment the cold water hits his skin, it shocks his system, draws a sharp inhale from between clenched teeth — but it’s better than the alternative.

because his dick? yeah. still hard. again.

it’s been like this since the friends with benefits deal started — this recurring morning wood that feels more like a symptom of her than anything physiological. it’s her voice in his ear. her hands under his shirt. her scent still lingering on his fingers hours later. it’s her.

and sure, yeah, he could jerk off. he has. he does. but it never hits the same. because his body doesn’t just want release — it wants her. her warmth. her weight. her voice when she says his name like it’s a secret.

he stands under the water longer than he needs to, hands braced against the tile, jaw clenched like he’s trying to ground himself in anything but the feel of her nails dragging down his spine. pathetic, he thinks. this isn’t what you signed up for.

but it’s already too late.

because yoongi — quiet, guarded, impossibly private yoongi — is starting to want things. dangerous things. like the sound of her laugh when she’s tired. like the way she hums when she’s deep into a track. like waking up to her beside him instead of a memory.

he shuts off the water, the silence hitting heavy around him again.

maybe she’s not thinking about him at all. maybe she’s already buried in her work, earbuds in, sipping iced coffee and dissecting vocal layers like last night never happened. like she didn’t fall apart on his lap, whispering yes against his mouth like it wasn’t just about the high.

he dries off in silence, towel slung low on his hips, steam still curling in the mirror.

he won’t text her. not yet.

he’ll wait. he always does.besides — she’s not his.

he’s just the one who keeps pretending that doesn’t hurt.

yoongi sees her before she sees him.

he’s walking down the hall on autopilot, barely paying attention to anything around him — not the interns rushing past, not the sound of muffled bass leaking out of a rehearsal room down the corridor, not the endless buzz of HYBE in its usual quiet chaos. but the second his eyes catch on her frame — leaned slightly against the wall outside one of the smaller editing suites — his body tenses like it knows. like it’s already reacting before his brain can fully catch up.

and she looks… different.

not bad. never that. but off. not in the way her hoodie hangs half-off one shoulder, or in how her sweatpants are cuffed unevenly like she dressed in a rush. no — it’s something in her face. her posture. the way her arms are crossed too tightly over her chest, phone clutched in one hand like she forgot she was even holding it. she’s not scrolling. not listening to anything. just… standing there.

thinking. spiraling, maybe. exactly like he was this morning.

yoongi slows his pace, considers walking past like he didn’t see her, like he’s busy or distracted or actually trying to stick to the five things he said he needed to get done today. but then she shifts — leans her head back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed for just a second — and the urge to go to her overrides whatever pride he has left.

he clears his throat gently as he approaches, hands stuffed in his pockets, expression calm. detached. casual.

don’t act weird. don’t ask anything you don’t want the answer to.

“yo.” his voice comes out low and steady, like he hadn’t spent all morning overthinking her moans. “you alive?”

her eyes snap open, and for a split second — just one beat — he sees it.

the flicker of panic, or maybe surprise, something unguarded in her face before she pastes on a quick, sheepish smile.

“barely,” she says, shifting her weight, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “you know how it is. deadlines, caffeine dependency, existential dread.”

yoongi lets out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, but he doesn’t miss the way she fidgets — the way she avoids looking directly at him at first, eyes darting back to her phone even though it hasn’t lit up once.

he doesn’t ask. doesn’t press. but he notices.

and that alone is enough to twist something tight in his chest.

“you waiting on a studio?” he asks instead, nodding toward the door beside her.

she shrugs. “yeah. i think there’s a mixing session still going on. should be out any minute.”

a pause stretches between them — not awkward exactly, but not easy either. and yoongi hates that. hates how he can feel the difference, how something unspoken hangs between them like a draft neither of them wants to acknowledge.

but then — just like that — she softens.

maybe it’s the way he’s watching her. maybe it’s the way his tone never changes, never pushes. or maybe she just missed him too.

because she lets out a quiet breath, eyes finally meeting his, and says, “by the way… you still owe me for the trauma of almost getting caught by some poor intern last night.”

yoongi blinks, caught off guard for a second — then he huffs a soft laugh through his nose.

“you mean you owe me,” he counters, tilting his head slightly. “i had to walk out with your fingerprints all over me. i looked like i’d been jumped by a very determined groupie.”

she bites back a grin, eyes twinkling just a little. there she is.

“well,” she says, voice lilting now, flirtation curling at the edges of her words, “i am pretty determined.”

yoongi raises an eyebrow at that, his smirk sharp but slow, blooming like smoke across his face. his heart’s doing something annoying in his chest, but he plays it cool, lets the silence settle a beat before he leans in just slightly — not too close, but enough to make her breathe a little slower.

“yeah?” he murmurs, eyes flicking from her lips back up. “i noticed.”

she looks away, laughing under her breath, and it’s subtle, it’s small — but it’s there. that shift. the thaw. her arms uncross, her body leans just a fraction closer to his without realizing.

and yoongi — well. he still doesn’t know what’s going on with her. why she was so dodgy at first. why her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes until just now.

but he knows this:

whatever she’s avoiding, it’s not him.

not yet.

and for now, that’s enough to make him stay a little longer.

yoongi leans his shoulder against the wall beside her, his posture easy but his eyes anything but. he’s studying her — not obviously, not in a way anyone else would notice, but she’s never really needed the full weight of his stare to feel it. it’s in the way he turns slightly toward her, how his fingers drum lightly against his thigh like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something he shouldn’t. he glances down the hallway, then back at her, voice smooth, unbothered.

“you end up doing anything with the track?”

she pauses. and he notices that, too — the half-second delay before she answers. like she’s sorting through all the possible ways to respond before landing on the one that gives away the least.

“uh…” she exhales a small laugh, tilting her head. “not really. i was kinda distracted yesterday.” her mouth twitches like she might smile, but she doesn’t let it land fully. “haven’t had the time to change anything else.”

yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips twitching just slightly. “distracted, huh?”

she shoots him a side glance — quick, but not defensive — the kind of look that says don’t start. but her cheeks give her away, that faint flush just beneath her skin that she pretends doesn’t exist. she shifts again, now more relaxed, fingers brushing through her hair like she’s trying to give her hands something to do.

“yeah, you know,” she says, voice a little too casual. “just… things.”

yoongi hums. it’s low, amused, maybe just a little smug. he can still hear her voice in his head — soft and breathless, whispering yes, right there like it was meant only for him. the idea that she couldn’t finish the track because she was too busy falling apart in his lap makes something dark and satisfied curl in his gut.

but he doesn’t push it.

not directly, anyway.

“well,” he says, glancing at the closed door beside them like it owes him an answer, “let me know if you need help finishing it. i’ve got a few... ideas.”

the way he says ideas — slow, a little rough, the ghost of a smirk pulling at his mouth — it’s not exactly appropriate for a hallway conversation. but she doesn’t flinch. doesn’t roll her eyes or walk away or pretend she doesn’t know what he’s implying.

instead, she presses her lips together, like she’s fighting a grin, and leans just slightly closer.

“do your ideas come with another fire hazard warning?” she asks, tilting her head like she’s teasing — but her voice is lower now, softer, the flirtation deliberately buried beneath layers of fake innocence. “because that couch might still be drying, min yoongi.”

yoongi exhales a laugh, not loud, but real. it catches him off guard a little, how easily she can do that — drag him out of his head, make him forget he spent the morning trying not to miss her.

you’re not supposed to miss her, he reminds himself again. this isn’t that kind of thing.

but it’s hard to remember that when she looks up at him with those eyes, when she says shit like that with a straight face, when she acts like she’s not dragging him deeper into something they never named.

and still — he doesn’t say anything else.

not about the night before.

not about how quiet she looked when he found her.

not about how good it feels to make her laugh.

he just pushes off the wall, hands back in his pockets, head tilting slightly.

“just saying,” he murmurs, eyes still on her, “you could probably sample some of those sounds you made. turn it into a synth line or something.”

she scoffs, but it’s breathless — and her smile this time? yeah. it lands.and yoongi walks away with the ghost of it still clinging to him.

yoongi’s studio is cold when he steps in — not in temperature, but in that still, slightly hollow kind of way that lingers when it’s been empty too long. the air’s stale from last night, a faint echo of synths still ringing in the silence. he doesn’t bother turning on the main lights. the blue LEDs lining his monitors are enough, casting the room in that familiar low glow that always made it feel like a world apart. separate from reality. quiet enough to breathe in.

he drops into his chair with a sigh, spinning slowly once before leaning forward, elbows on the desk. the song on the screen isn’t new. not even close. it’s one he started months ago, maybe longer — moody and slow and layered with too many half-formed ideas. it’s got no destination, just a vibe. it reminds him of rainy nights and restless fingers and things left unsaid. basically, it reminds him of her.

he doesn’t say that out loud, of course. wouldn’t even say it to himself if it weren’t already a fact clawing at the edge of his thoughts.

he queues the project up anyway and starts fine-tuning a few synth patches. adjusts the EQ. nudges a vocal sample an eighth note forward. it’s all mechanical, methodical — a distraction. a half-hearted one.

and then the door opens with a soft knock that’s already halfway pushed open, because only one person enters like that.

“yo,” hoseok calls, his voice the same warm, light tone it always is — like sunshine pouring into a dim room. “you alive in here?”

yoongi barely glances back. “physically.”

hoseok lets out a chuckle and steps inside, already dropping into the second chair like he owns it. his hair’s messy, face fresh, dressed down in sweats and a too-expensive hoodie that only looks effortless. days like this — in between releases, tour planning still months off — they get to breathe. kind of. stretch their limbs, catch up, check in on old projects and worse habits.

“working on anything new?” hoseok asks, peering at the screen.

yoongi shrugs, clicking aimlessly through the stems. “just polishing old shit.”

“gonna release it?”

yoongi hums. “probably not. just… filling space.”

hoseok’s quiet for a moment, just watching him. the air shifts slightly — not tense, not heavy, but perceptive. yoongi knows that silence. knows hoseok’s thinking something but giving him time to get there first.

he doesn’t. so hoseok does it for him.

“so… you and (y/n), huh?”

yoongi pauses. doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look over. just drags the waveform a little to the left and hits play.

a low synth hums through the room, heavy with bass. atmospheric. slow burn. just like him.

“what about us?”

“don’t play dumb, hyung. i saw you two in the hallway earlier. i’ve heard you two. you think walls here are soundproof? please.”

yoongi exhales through his nose, lips twitching. “should’ve worn headphones.”

“should’ve kept it in your pants,” hoseok says, grinning.

that earns a full laugh — low and brief, but real — and yoongi leans back, finally meeting his eyes.

“it’s not like that,” he says.

“yeah?” hoseok quirks an eyebrow. “looked a lot like something.”

yoongi goes quiet again, eyes flicking back to the screen. the waveform’s looping now, the beat repeating every few seconds. he doesn’t hear it.

he hears her.

“yeah, well… i was kinda distracted yesterday.”

he presses his thumb into his lower lip, jaw tight.

“it’s complicated.”

hoseok nods slowly, more serious now. “you like her.”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you didn’t have to.”

yoongi doesn’t answer. because he does. more than he wants to admit. and it’s not just the sex. it’s her voice in the booth. the way she fights for her mixes. the way she can go from shouting across the room to whispering something filthy against his throat in the span of ten minutes. it’s how she always makes things harder — and somehow easier, too.

“you’re not exactly good at hiding shit,” hoseok says after a beat. “not with her. you look at her like… like you’re trying not to fall in love and failing miserably.”

yoongi’s heart lurches, but his face doesn’t move.

“and what if i am?”

hoseok shrugs. “then maybe stop pretending it’s casual before she walks away for real.”

that gets him.

yoongi swallows thickly and doesn’t answer.

just stares at the screen again.

like the waveform might give him a reason to do something before it’s too late.

the music’s long stopped, but he’s still sitting there — hunched slightly in his chair, eyes fixed on the screen like it’ll offer up an answer he hasn’t already dissected a thousand different ways in his head. the studio has sunk into that kind of deep stillness only late hours can create. no voices in the halls. no random knocks. even the building’s subtle mechanical hum feels distant, dulled under the weight of everything he isn’t saying.

yoongi doesn’t realize how much time has passed until his stomach lets out a low, sharp growl that physically pulls him out of his spiral. it echoes in the silence, ridiculous and needy, and he exhales a dry laugh through his nose, rubbing his face with both hands. fuck. how long has it been? eight hours? ten?

he glances at the time and winces. of course.

he pushes back from the desk slowly, spine stiff, legs numb from being curled under him too long. everything feels a little off-kilter — his body, his thoughts, even the way the air sits in the room. it’s like time’s been suspended in here, and the second he steps out that door, it’s going to catch up to him all at once.

his stomach growls again and he grumbles under his breath, rummaging half-heartedly through the snack drawer he always forgets to restock. nothing decent. just a crushed protein bar and gum that’s long expired. he considers ordering food, but even that feels like a decision he’s not ready to make. like his brain’s too preoccupied chewing on something else.

hoseok’s words won’t stop looping.

“you look at her like… like you’re trying not to fall in love and failing miserably.”

he thinks about the way she looked in that hallway earlier. how she tried not to meet his eyes at first. how her voice dipped low when she flirted. how her smile faltered for half a second when she thought he wasn’t looking. and he thinks about the night before — how natural it felt to be around her, even when her moans were echoing off the studio walls. even when he was saying shit he wouldn’t say to anyone else. even when he kissed her hair like he meant it.

because he did. and he’s not sure how long he’s been meaning it, but now that he’s realized it, there’s no unknowing it.

yoongi leans against the edge of the desk, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on the floor but not really seeing it. would it really be that bad if he wanted something for himself, just this once? if he stopped pretending that whatever the fuck is happening between him and her isn’t turning into something real?

it’s a dangerous question. he knows the answer already. it’s yes. it’s always yes.

because this thing they’ve got? it was built on boundaries they both agreed to. no labels. no expectations. just fun, she had said, eyes lit and smile mischievous the night it started. and he had nodded, quick to agree. because why the hell would someone like her — loud and electric and alive in all the places he’s muted — ever want someone like him?

but still. there are moments. fleeting ones. like the way she lingers after they fuck, half-tucked against him, eyes glassy and unreadable. or how she always plays him the real version of her demos, even the unfinished ones. or the time she reached for his hand in a crowded elevator and didn’t let go until they hit the lobby.

yoongi drags a hand through his hair and lets out a low, frustrated sound.

she’s not in love with you, he tells himself. she would’ve said something by now. ended it. laughed in your face.

except… maybe she wouldn’t. maybe she’s just as scared of ruining it as he is.

and suddenly everything starts to feel confusing. like the lines are blurring faster than either of them can keep up with. like they’ve both been balancing on a wire stretched too thin, pretending not to look down.

he swallows, throat dry. maybe it’s the hunger. maybe it’s the exhaustion. or maybe he’s finally just sick of lying to himself. but right now — in this empty room, with his heart pounding harder than it should — all he can think is:

what if i already lost her and didn’t even realize it?

and worse —

what if i haven’t lost her yet, but i will… if i don’t do something soon?

he grabs his phone. his fingers hesitate over her name again.

but this time — this time, maybe he doesn’t want to wait.

the knock is soft at first — more of a tap, really — but in the silence of the studio, it sounds almost like thunder. yoongi’s head lifts, eyebrows tugging together, not expecting anyone this late. he sets his phone down, heart in his throat for no good reason, and crosses the studio in slow, measured steps. when he opens the door, it takes everything in him not to let that sharp, startled smile break too wide across his face.

she’s standing there, hoodie zipped up halfway, a takeout bag dangling from one hand, and that familiar, irritatingly smug smirk playing on her lips like she already knows what he’s thinking.

“look at you,” she says, brushing past him before he can even get a word out, “alive but barely, i assume.”

he doesn’t stop her — never does — just closes the door and watches as she makes herself at home like always. she drops the bag on the tiny coffee table he’s never used for actual coffee and then turns to face him, hands on her hips.

“you didn’t answer your texts, you haven’t eaten, and you look like you’ve been brooding about god-knows-what for at least eight hours straight. so,” she says, lifting the bag with a flourish, “your savior has arrived. congratulations. your digestive system won’t fail you today.”

yoongi lets out a laugh, low and genuine, dragging a hand over his face as he moves to join her. “you’re so dramatic.”

“and you’re one stomach cramp away from passing out,” she shoots back, already unpacking the containers. “i should start charging you for emotional labor.”

he raises an eyebrow. “this is emotional labor?”

“you have the social awareness of a houseplant,” she says, grinning. “yes. it is.”

they settle onto the floor, knees bumping as they sit side by side in that unintentional kind of closeness that always seems to happen between them. like no matter how big the room is, they always end up in each other’s orbit. he watches her unbox his favorite dish without needing to ask what he wants — like she knows. like she’s wired to know.

and for a moment, it’s easy. too easy. the jokes, the way their arms graze, the way her voice softens a little when she hands him chopsticks. it should be mundane, but it isn’t. it never is with her.

but then it hits him.

a scent — subtle but undeniable. something unfamiliar. it cuts through the usual notes of soy and ginger and her shampoo, and it’s not hers. it’s cologne. a man’s.

yoongi goes still for a second, eyes narrowing just slightly as he breathes it in again, trying not to overreact but already spiraling. it’s not strong, but it clings to her — on the sleeve of her hoodie, near her neck. and it’s not his.

she doesn’t miss the way he stiffens. she never misses anything about him. her eyes flick to his face, then down to her own clothes like she already knows what he’s picked up on.

“oh — that?” she says, nudging his knee gently with hers, tone light but cautious. “it’s not what you think.”

he looks at her, expression unreadable, but the jealousy’s already burning somewhere low and sharp inside him, like a slow boil he doesn’t know what to do with.

“been working with yeonjun,” she continues, fingers playing with the edge of the takeout lid. “on one of the tracks i told you about. you know how he is. touchy, all over the place, dramatic as hell. hugged me like four times in an hour and spilled coffee on my hoodie, so i borrowed one of his. it’s nothing.”

she’s watching him now — carefully. like she’s waiting for a verdict. like she’s not entirely sure he believes her.

yoongi doesn’t say anything at first. he looks down at the food in front of him, then at the edge of the sleeve she’s tugging at absentmindedly. it’s stupid. he knows it. it’s ridiculous how fast the thought of her with someone else can unravel him.

but still — that voice in his head won’t shut up.

you’re not her boyfriend. you don’t get to care.

except he does. even if he shouldn’t. even if it hurts.

“he’s loud,” yoongi mutters finally, picking at the edge of the takeout container. “and he wears too much cologne.”

her lips twitch, just a little. “yeah,” she says. “i like yours better.”

he looks up then, eyes catching hers in that heavy, too-long way they always do when things start to slip between the cracks. she’s smiling, but her gaze is steady. honest. and maybe a little nervous.

she nudges his knee again.

“don’t get weird about it.”

yoongi exhales slowly, something unspoken loosening in his chest.

“not weird,” he says, voice soft. “just hungry.”

but they both know what he really means.

they eat mostly in silence, the kind that isn’t awkward — more like lived-in quiet, something gentle that exists between people who know each other too well to need constant talking. the food is warm, comforting, grounding in a way that makes the chaos in yoongi’s head slow to a manageable hum. for a while, the only sounds are the rustle of containers, the soft clink of chopsticks, and the occasional, lazy sip from shared soda cans.

she’s cross-legged on the floor, hoodie sleeves pushed up, her wrist brushing against his every time she reaches for something near the middle. she’s focused, for the most part, but her eyes keep flicking toward him — little glances that say she’s thinking something, maybe a lot of things, but doesn’t know how to start saying them.

yoongi’s sitting back against the couch now, long legs stretched out, one arm resting across the seat cushions behind him. he’s not touching her, technically — but it would take the slightest movement for his fingers to find her shoulder, or her hair, or her hoodie collar. and he’s watching her, openly, a lazy half-smile playing on his lips that he doesn’t bother hiding. because she said something stupid. ridiculous, really. something about how the drums in her demo sounded like “a washing machine having a panic attack” and how she was going to “maybe rebrand as an experimental laundromat composer.”

“what the fuck does that even mean?” he asks, still grinning.

“don’t act like you wouldn’t stream it,” she says, chewing the last bite of dumpling. “i know your niche little taste.”

he scoffs lightly. “i’d stream it just to clown on you in the comments.”

“exactly,” she says, pointing a chopstick at him like she’s proved a point. “engagement.”

he snorts, shakes his head, leans a little heavier against the couch. “so the demo?”

she shrugs, wiping her fingers on a napkin. “i mean... it’s still a mess. but kind of a beautiful one? i think i needed last night, actually. i was stuck. in my head. needed to… get out of it.”

he hums at that, a quiet acknowledgment, but his eyes flick away for a second. because yeah, she did get out of it. she got under him, over him, and inside his fucking brain. and now they’re here again, sitting close, joking like nothing about it cracked anything open. but it did. he knows it. and maybe — maybe she does too.

he opens his mouth to say something — maybe another joke, maybe something a little more honest — but he never gets the chance.

she kisses him.

not in that frantic, breathless way that usually comes after too much tension and too little distance. not the way she does when she’s climbing into his lap or tugging at his hoodie, all teeth and heat. this is... different.

it’s soft. casual, almost. like a pause in a conversation, like punctuation. like she just wanted to shut him up for a second — or maybe just needed to feel him without all the buildup.

her lips press gently against his, warm and slow. her hand settles on his thigh, thumb brushing absently against the fabric of his sweats, not suggestive, not teasing — just there. grounding. familiar. and it catches him off guard because there’s no real hunger in it, not yet. just intimacy. quiet affection disguised as a throwaway moment.

he doesn’t move, not right away. just lets it happen. lets her kiss him like it’s normal. like it means nothing. like it means everything.

when she pulls back, barely, her face hovers close — her breath still mingling with his. her fingers still resting on his leg. and for a second, neither of them says anything.

yoongi just looks at her, the smile slow to return this time, eyes soft and half-lidded.

“that was random,” he murmurs.

she shrugs like it’s nothing, like her heart isn’t beating out of her chest. “you looked too smug. it was annoying.”

he chuckles, eyes still on her lips. “sure.”

“don’t get ideas,” she adds, reaching for another dumpling like she didn’t just change the temperature of the whole room.

but he does.

he has.

and now he’s stuck with them.

she's licking soy sauce off her thumb when she asks, too casually, “do you have plans when you go home?”

yoongi’s mid-chew, eyes flicking up at her like he’s trying to decide whether she’s joking or baiting him — both, probably. always both with her. he swallows slowly, wipes his mouth with a napkin, and leans back again against the couch, stretching out like a cat settling into warm sun. his arm slides higher along the cushion, closer to her shoulder now, and he smirks, head tilted just slightly.

“you know it’s late, right?”

she shrugs, unbothered, lips twitching as she looks sideways at him. “best things happen when it’s late,” she says. “yesterday’s a good example.”

the words hit like a loaded trigger, pulling a visible shift in the air between them. the quiet settles differently now — thicker, slower. her voice has that edge again, that deliberate softness that sounds like innocence but hides all kinds of trouble beneath it. and yoongi? yeah, he’s already moving closer.

he props one elbow on the back of the couch now, turning fully toward her. his knees bend just a little, thighs open. the way he looks at her is heavy, something simmering behind his lashes as a slow grin stretches across his face — a smile that says i know what you're doing. and i’m not stopping you.

“so what,” he says, voice roughening just a notch, “you bring me dinner, make me laugh a little, kiss me like that, and now i’m just supposed to fuck you again?”

she giggles — that little gasp-hiccup sound she only makes when she’s been caught red-handed but still refuses to play innocent. her eyes flick down to his mouth, her hand trailing back to rest on his thigh again, fingertips just barely digging in through the fabric of his sweats. she’s not answering. doesn’t have to.

yoongi leans in — lips ghosting just over her cheek, the shell of her ear — close enough to make her skin prickle.

“you get needy when the sun goes down, huh?” he murmurs, breath hot. “always showing up with excuses. food. fake concern. pretending you’re here to babysit me when you know damn well you just want me to lay you out again.”

her breath hitches, and that’s all the confirmation he needs.

his mouth finds hers again, but this time there’s no hesitation — none of that soft in-between from earlier. it’s hungrier now, like they’re picking up where they left off last night. like he’s been thinking about this since he watched her walk away, sweat-stained and glowing and satisfied. his hand moves instinctively, resting on her hip, thumb dragging just under the hem of her hoodie, lazy and unhurried.

he breaks the kiss to murmur against her lips, “you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?”

her eyes flutter, but she nods, biting her bottom lip just to keep from moaning at how good his voice sounds when it dips like that — low and secret, like a promise.

“what part are you stuck on?” he asks, eyes heavy, his free hand now dragging up her thigh with just enough pressure to make her shift. “me pulling your hair? or when you came all over my fingers before i even got inside you?”

she exhales hard, laughing through it, but she’s flushed now, knees turned inward like she’s trying to contain the heat blooming low in her belly. it’s no use. he already knows. he can read her like a language he’s memorized in every form.

he kisses her again, slower this time, then pulls back just enough to whisper:

“say please, baby. i’m still full from dinner — but if you ask real nice... maybe i’ll still have you for dessert.”

and just like that —

yoongi’s night is no longer his.

it’s hers. always has been.

“please,” she breathes, voice smaller than before — not playful, not sarcastic. real. the kind of soft that only surfaces when the guard drops, when want curls up from her belly and takes the reins of her mouth. “yoongi, please. i’ve been thinking about you all day… couldn’t stop. couldn’t—” she exhales, eyes fluttering, “i can’t wait anymore.”

and that—god, that—does something to him.

yoongi’s breath stutters, his fingers tightening where they rest on her thigh. there’s a fire building slow and low in his stomach, the kind that doesn’t rush — the kind that simmers, burns, because it’s not just about lust. it’s about the way she looks at him when she says things like that. like he’s the only one who’s ever been able to pull her apart in just the right way. like she needs him to be the one to get her there, every time. like she’s already unraveling from the idea alone.

he shifts as she climbs between his legs, her hands working slow, deliberate, never breaking eye contact — her gaze warm, serious, a little bit mischievous. she presses a kiss to his jaw first, featherlight, then down to his throat, her lips brushing his pulse point.

“you always take care of me,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “let me take care of you.”

yoongi groans low in his chest, head dropping back against the couch with a dull thud, already undone by the idea before she’s even touched him. his hoodie bunches slightly as she tugs at the hem of his shirt, her fingers grazing over his skin in teasing strokes. she moves lower, slower — kisses trailing down like breadcrumbs, soft and hot, until she settles where he needs her most.

and then—

then, her mouth is on him, slow and warm and devastating, like she’s trying to memorize the taste of him. like she’s saying thank you with every breath, every drag of her tongue. she wraps one hand around the base of him, the other braced lightly on his thigh, grounding herself as she works. the sounds she makes are quiet, eager, reverent. she takes her time. she wants to. because yoongi’s always been so careful with her — always patient, always knowing exactly how to touch her, how to ruin her in all the right ways.

and now it’s her turn.

yoongi’s hands bury in her hair, not rough — more like he’s anchoring himself. his lips part around a curse he doesn’t finish, his whole body going taut with restraint. because she knows what she’s doing, knows exactly how to undo him. and she does it with intention. with purpose.

with care.

and maybe that’s what breaks him most —

not the pleasure, not the heat, not the slick sounds and the pressure building too fast to hold —

but the fact that it means something.

even when they’re pretending it doesn’t.

his fingers slide through her hair, gentle at first — reverent, almost — before curling tighter at the nape of her neck. he brushes the strands back from her face so he can see her, the way her lips stretch around him, eyes glossy and half-lidded, her cheeks flushed with heat and want. she looks wrecked already, mouth full of him, but still so fucking pretty it almost hurts.

yoongi bites down on a groan, hips twitching the slightest bit, restraint clawing at every muscle in his body. fuck, she looks good like this. like she belongs there, between his legs, sinking deeper into whatever quiet madness they’ve been building for months.

“look at you,” he mutters, voice a slow drag of smoke, deep and rough in the back of his throat. “fuck, baby… always so eager for it.”

her eyes flick up at him, and that’s when he knows—knows—she’s loving this just as much. he can feel it in the way she shifts, subtly squeezing her thighs together, in the soft, messy sounds she’s making around him. muffled whimpers that melt against his skin. she’s getting off on it. on the way he talks to her. on the way she knows he’s watching every movement, every hollow of her cheeks, every trembling inhale.

“you like being my good girl, huh?” he breathes, thumb grazing her jaw, the corner of her lips as she bobs her head slowly. “bet you’re soaked already. fuck—are you?”

she whines low in her throat, the sound vibrating through him, and yoongi’s eyes flutter closed for a second, overwhelmed. he’s not gonna last if she keeps making noises like that. but god, he loves it. he loves knowing she needs the filth just as much as the touch. that she’s getting wet just from his voice, from the weight of his hands in her hair, from the control he gives and takes in the same breath.

“wish you could see yourself,” he grits out, voice low and hungry. “so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. like you were made for it.”

her rhythm falters slightly, a soft shiver coursing through her as she presses closer, takes him deeper — because of what he said. and yoongi groans again, the sound ragged now, falling apart.

“yeah… that’s it. just like that, baby. just like that.”

and somewhere deep in his chest, it twists — not just lust but something else, something more dangerous. something that says this is more than what we said it would be.

but he doesn’t say that.

he just watches her fall apart for him, mouth full, eyes glazed, and knows —

she’s his.

even if neither of them has dared to say it yet.

she doesn’t move right away when he finishes — just stays there for a moment, breathing through her nose, eyelashes trembling, lips parted around him like she’s trying to leave a mark that’s more than just physical. and when she does finally pull back, it’s slow, teasing, her tongue dragging along the head of him like she’s savoring the last taste.

then she looks up — really looks up — and opens her mouth slightly, showing him what he gave her, a wicked little smile curling at the corners of her lips before she swallows without breaking eye contact.

it’s filthy. it’s devastating. it’s so her.

yoongi feels his whole body jolt at the sight, like the tension that’s been coiling up inside him has found a new place to spark. he lets out a rough, breathless laugh — low and disbelieving — before pulling her up by the jaw, not roughly but with a kind of urgency that surprises even him.

he kisses her. hard.

no hesitation, no space between them. he kisses her like he wants to memorize the taste on her tongue. like he wants to remind her that it’s not just about what she did, but how she did it — the way she gave it to him, the way she always does, without asking for anything back but still deserving everything.

and he gives it.

his hands are already sliding beneath her hoodie, palms warm and greedy against her back. the fabric rides up as she shifts closer, climbing into his lap without a word. he doesn’t ask — he doesn’t need to. she’s already moving how he wants her, like she knows. like she feels it.

he tugs the hoodie over her head in one smooth motion, letting it fall somewhere behind them, forgotten. her bra’s simple — soft black cotton, no lace, no shine — but fuck, it fits her perfectly. the kind of thing that isn’t made to seduce but ends up doing exactly that anyway.

his hands pause for a second. he just… looks.

she’s straddling him, bare above the waist except for that small piece of fabric, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. her fingers are in his hair now, slow, thoughtful, threading at the roots like she’s not sure if she wants to ground herself or pull him closer.

and her eyes — they’re searching his face. not teasing, not playful. serious. soft. like she’s trying to memorize him too.

yoongi swallows thickly, his hands sliding up her sides, thumbs brushing just beneath the underwire.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, quiet, like the words slipped out before he could stop them.

she doesn’t say anything. doesn’t have to.

the way she leans in to kiss him again, slower this time — deeper — says it all.

yoongi’s hands are all over her now — slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to map her body from memory even though he already knows it better than his own. he palms the curve of her ass through her sweats, fingers spreading, squeezing, grounding her onto his lap. her body responds instantly, instinctively — hips rolling once, twice, like her muscles remember the rhythm before her mind can catch up.

he groans into her mouth when she does it again, this soft grind that presses her right against where he’s growing hard all over again. his fingers dip lower, sneaking beneath the waistband of her sweats, and it’s like she melts right into his hands. like her body wants to be held there.

"fuck," he mutters into her mouth, "you know what you do to me, don’t you?"

she breathes a shaky little laugh, forehead pressed to his, her hands still in his hair, nails grazing his scalp just right. “you sound surprised.”

he doesn’t answer — not out loud. instead, he helps her shift back just enough for him to start tugging her sweats down. she lifts herself slightly, letting him ease them over her hips, down her thighs. her underwear’s a delicate scrap of fabric, damp and clinging and completely in his way. he doesn’t waste time — peels them off with a practiced ease, sliding both pieces down her legs, letting them get tangled around one ankle like they always do when they get too impatient to bother properly.

she sits back on his lap, now bare from the waist down, still in that soft black bra, and he exhales hard through his nose — not even trying to hide the way his eyes drag down her body.

“jesus, you’re—” he starts, then just groans, pulling her into him again like he needs her closer, like even skin to skin isn’t enough.

he kisses her deep — messier now, open-mouthed, hungry. one hand cups the back of her neck while the other returns to her ass, squeezing hard as he rocks her against him, making her gasp into his mouth.

it’s not rushed. it’s not frantic. it’s just them — steady and knowing and hot with everything they haven’t said yet.

and god, he could lose himself in it.

maybe he already is.

their bodies are flushed, sweat starting to gather in the small spaces where skin meets skin — under her thighs, his hands gripping the back of them, her chest pressed to his, her breath warm against his jaw. she’s moving in slow circles on his lap, bare and wet and leaving a mess on him, that slick, sticky evidence of how much she wants him — how long she’s wanted him.

yoongi can’t stop watching her face.

she’s breathing heavy, lips parted, eyes locked on his like she’s balancing between control and surrender. and she’s doing this thing — this fucking thing — where she grinds just right and then pulls back the second he thinks he might slide into her. the tip of him keeps slipping through her folds, catching for a second, teasing that sweet ache of friction, and then she rolls her hips up and away again, dragging a whimper from both of them.

“you’re playing a dangerous game,” he grits out, voice dark, jaw tense.

her nails trail up his shoulders, one hand slipping around the back of his neck, the other flat on his chest, steadying herself. she leans in close, close enough that her lips brush his, her breath shaky. “i want you to need me,” she whispers, barely audible. “like i do.”

and that sentence? that one sentence nearly undoes him. because fuck does he.

he's needed her in every version she’s shown him — loud and teasing, quiet and wrecked, undone in his hands or breaking him apart with just a glance. he’s needed her since the first time she kissed him and acted like it didn’t mean anything.

his hands move instinctively — one sliding up her back, the other unclasping her bra like he’s done it a hundred times before (because he has). he tosses it aside without looking, eyes never leaving hers.

and then he kisses her again.

not like before — not teasing, not playful. this kiss hurts. it’s full of things neither of them are brave enough to say. it’s heavy with the weight of all the feelings they’ve kept buried under sweat and moans and half-laughed excuses.

his tongue slides against hers, and she gasps, moving faster now, grinding harder. he grabs her hips and guides her, dragging her down against him, and they both groan — heads tipping back for a second before they look at each other again.

and fuck, the eye contact. it’s too much.

their foreheads touch, noses brushing, panting into each other’s mouths. they’re so close to breaking. so close to letting it all spill out.

but neither says it.

not yet.

not out loud.

so instead, they stay here — teetering on the edge, breathless and desperate, wrapped in each other’s silence.

pretending it’s still just physical.

pretending they’re not both already in too deep.

her fingers wrap around him, slow and sure, and it’s like the room holds its breath.

yoongi’s chest stutters as she lines him up, her forehead pressing to his, and for a second they’re still — just breathing, both of them trembling with restraint. she doesn’t look at his face. not right away. her eyes are locked down, staring between them, watching how he disappears into her inch by inch, slick and hot and so fucking close it sends a shudder through her entire body.

her brows twitch upward in a soft, desperate kind of pain — not from discomfort, but from overwhelm. her mouth falls open around a quiet, strangled sound, something raw and completely real that slips out before she can stop it. it’s not the first time he’s been inside her — not even close — but something about this time feels different. maybe it’s the silence. the eye contact. the tension they've been choking on for weeks. months. maybe it’s the way neither of them’s bothering to pretend anymore.

because she’s shaking, and he’s gripping her hips like a lifeline, and then—

then she says it.

“i don’t want anyone else to have you like this,” she whispers, voice thin and cracking at the edges. her breath ghosts over his lips as she moves, the words punctuated by the slow rise and fall of her body. “i’m done pretending, yoongi. i don’t—fuck, i can’t.”

the confession splinters through him, sharp and blinding.

his hands slide up her back as she moves — slow at first, then faster, her hips snapping down in short, messy bursts. there’s nothing graceful about it. it’s frantic. possessive. like she’s trying to stake her claim on him with every wet slap of skin against skin. like she’s branding him with her body, letting him feel what she hasn’t had the nerve to say until now.

yoongi groans — guttural, broken — and digs his fingers into her waist as she starts to ride him harder, pace faltering with every moan she swallows back. her eyes flicker to his then, glassy and dark, and he can barely hold her gaze without falling apart.

“mine,” she says again, almost like a warning, like a plea. “you’re mine.”

he nods — fuck, he’d do anything for her right now — and brings his forehead to hers, their noses brushing as they move together in this messy, electric rhythm. every push, every drag, every breath feels like a vow neither of them has the guts to say out loud in plain language.

but it doesn’t matter.

because her body says it for her.

and his, god help him, answers back like it’s been waiting this whole time.

yoongi’s mouth finds the curve of her neck — hot, open-mouthed kisses dragging along her pulse as he pants against her skin. she’s still moving on him, slower now, deeper. every roll of her hips making his breath catch, making his hands grip tighter at her waist like he’s scared she might slip away despite what she just said.

he groans against her skin, the sound raw and low in his throat. needy, in a way he hasn’t let himself be — not until now. his teeth catch her earlobe, a soft bite that makes her shudder, and then he says it:

“fuck—i’ve been wanting to hear you say that.” his voice is wrecked, voice box vibrating against her neck, and his arms wrap tighter around her like he’s trying to fold himself into her, bury all the things he’s never admitted. “for so long, baby… you have no idea.”

she breathes in sharply, head tipping back, and he uses the opportunity to kiss down her throat, to press his lips to the hollow of her collarbone, to feel the way she trembles from the inside out.

and then he pulls back — just enough to look at her.

really look at her.

his hands slide up her back, fingertips tracing her spine, and their eyes lock again in that heavy, charged silence. her hips keep moving — slower now, drawn-out, grinding deep like she wants him to feel all of her. like she’s memorizing the way he fills her. her chest brushes his with every shift, and she’s still watching him. like he’s the only thing anchoring her.

“say it again,” he whispers, voice low but clear.

she leans in, mouth brushing his as she moves, as she grinds with purpose now, deliberate, claiming every inch of him.

“you’re mine,” she breathes, barely audible.

“all yours,” he answers without thinking.

and fuck, the way they move after that?

it’s not about getting off anymore.

it’s about knowing.owning.

holding each other in the most vulnerable way they ever have — naked and honest and right on the edge of something they can’t undo.

her forehead presses to his, and she doesn’t stop moving — slow, grinding, so deep it’s like she’s trying to carve him into herself, like she wants to memorize every ridge and throb, the way his breath catches, the way his lashes flutter when she tightens around him just right.

and then she whispers it.

into his lips.

into his soul.

“say i’m the only one,” she pleads, voice trembling. “please.”

and she is. she is. he doesn’t even hesitate.

his mouth crashes into hers — desperate and full of heat, his hands splaying across her back like he doesn’t want to let a single part of her go. he kisses her like it’s the only way he can say what he’s feeling without unraveling. not soft, not teasing. hungry. raw.

and then he moves — not away, never away — but with her.

he shifts, gently guiding her down onto the rug that cushions the floor below them, the tiny coffee table shoved just far enough to give them space. she’s blinking up at him, wide-eyed, lips swollen from his kisses, chest rising and falling like she’s about to break. he strips off the last of her clothes — her bra already gone, but her socks, her hoodie tangled around her arms, still in the way. and his — his shirt’s gone in a second, and his sweats follow, tossed somewhere into the growing pile around them.

“you’re the only one,” he says against her skin, voice thick, reverent. “the only one i think of. when i touch myself. when i wake up. when i hear a fucking melody that sounds like you.”

he grabs her ankle, lips brushing over the thin skin there, and starts kissing his way up — slow and reverent at first, then hungry when he reaches the bend of her knee, the inside of her thigh. she gasps, her legs twitching around him, and he hooks his arms under them, pulling her closer like she belongs wrapped around him.

“you’re it, baby,” he murmurs, kissing higher, closer, nearly to her core. “no one else. no one fucking touches me like you do. no one knows me like you do.”

and maybe it’s the way she trembles when he says it. maybe it’s the way she looks at him now, like she believes him.

maybe it’s the truth in his voice that finally makes her body let go of the tension she’s been carrying since the moment they met.

because now?

it’s not about pretending.

it’s about claiming.and he’s more than willing to let her do the same.

he doesn't rush it—no, not at first. he hovers there, above her, between her legs, one hand splayed across her waist like it’s anchoring him to the present, to her. their eyes meet, and there’s a beat of stillness, thick and charged and warm, where neither of them says a word. their bodies are flushed, skin tacky with heat, but it’s the emotion in the air that makes it almost unbearable.

then, with a soft breath and a quiet, reverent kind of groan, he sinks into her again.

and it’s everything.

she gasps, arching up to meet him, her hands flying to his back, her nails dragging across his shoulder blades, not to hurt—but to hold. to keep him right there. and yoongi… yoongi moves. faster than before, a little harder, but still tender. every thrust is measured but needy, like he’s trying to burn this version of her into memory.

his mouth finds her ear again, his breath hot and uneven. “you feel like heaven,” he whispers, voice cracked and low. “like you were made for me.”

and then his hips snap forward, deeper this time, dragging a strangled moan out of her lips that has his head spinning.

“so fucking tight,” he growls, one hand slipping up her ribs to cup her breast, thumb grazing over her nipple. “you always take me so good… no one else gets this. no one gets this from me but you.”

she cries out at that, clinging tighter, and he kisses her—open-mouthed, messy, not even pretending to be composed anymore. she’s unraveling beneath him, her legs wrapping around his waist, locking him in like she needs him to stay, like she doesn’t want to risk even a second of separation.

his forehead falls to hers again, noses brushing, sweat dripping at the temple. “you’re it for me, baby,” he murmurs. “you hear me? all this—" he rolls his hips again, and she keens, "—only for you. only ever been for you.”

and there’s a truth in it that tastes like something permanent.

like something they've both been too afraid to say.

her hands cradle his face now, and he kisses her again. again. like it’s the only language that’ll carry everything he means.

and as their bodies move in sync, as the rhythm builds and the heat coils, the words he keeps spilling into her skin blur—between filthy and loving, between “you’re so fucking wet” and “you’re everything,” between want and need.

because for yoongi, with her, there’s never been a line.

just her. only her.

she comes undone with his name on her lips — not yelled, not screamed, but breathed out like a secret, like a confession she’s been carrying in her chest for weeks. her back arches, fingers digging into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut as her thighs tremble around his hips.

yoongi watches her fall apart, watches the way her body stutters and spasms, the way her mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. and that’s it for him — the breaking point. the way she looks when she finishes, all flushed and ruined and clenching around him like she doesn’t want to let go.

he pulls out just in time, jaw tight, breath shallow, barely choking out a curse before he releases thick and hot across her inner thigh, hips still twitching as he grinds against her skin. he could’ve come inside — he knows she’s on the pill, they’ve had that conversation — but there’s something so primal about this. about seeing her messy and wrecked, painted in him, like he marked her.

he stares at the mess for a beat — her legs trembling, her chest heaving, the slick between them sticky and raw — before leaning down without a word, mouth open, tongue dragging slow across her thigh to clean it.

and fuck, she jolts.

her eyes snap open, still hazy with the aftershocks, only to find him there, on his knees, licking himself off her like it’s nothing. like it’s everything.

the sight alone makes her throb all over again.

yoongi finishes what he started, kisses up her thigh, across her hip, then her stomach. and when he makes it back to her mouth, she’s already reaching for him, already tugging him closer.

and when she kisses him this time, it’s dirty and sweet all at once, her hand sneaking between them to wrap around both of them — his length, still slick, still sensitive, and hers, her arousal still warm on his skin.

she kisses him again, deeper now, still catching her breath — and her hand moves between their bodies, slipping down to wrap around him, slow and deliberate. he twitches under her touch, still sensitive, still slick from everything. and then, with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, she slides her fingers lower, brushing through her own arousal, their mess mixing on her skin.

yoongi watches, breath caught in his throat, as she lifts her hand between them. her fingers glisten, coated in both of them, and then—

then she brings them to her mouth.

her tongue flicks out, slow and purposeful, licking across her fingers like she’s savoring every bit. tasting them both. tasting this — whatever they just crossed into.

his groan is instant, guttural, completely wrecked.

and she just grins, lips slick and eyes wild, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him.

“we’re fucking insane,” she whispers, lips brushing his.

and they both crack then, laughing — not hard, not loud — just breathless and loose and wrecked, tangled up in something that feels like relief.

like they finally let something out they didn’t even know they were holding.

he kisses her again, grinning against her lips. “yeah,” he murmurs. “but that was so worth it.”

and it was.

god, it was.

he doesn’t let her go. not after that.

his arms wrap around her again, pulling her flushed against his chest like he's afraid she’ll evaporate if he loosens his grip. his lips brush her temple, his breath still uneven, but his voice—his voice—comes out soft. low. vulnerable in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to be in so long it almost feels foreign.

“say that you meant it,” he whispers, his thumb stroking the curve of her spine. “please.”

he swallows, presses his nose to her hair. “because i don’t think i could take it if that was just… a weird kink. or some fucked-up moment of too much intimacy.”

she’s quiet at first. her fingers are tracing slow circles over his ribs, and then she shifts just enough to look up at him — really look. her cheeks are flushed, lashes damp, eyes so sincere it knocks the wind out of him.

“i do,” she says, voice steady but soft. “i have for a while.”

yoongi's breath catches.

and then he’s kissing her. everywhere. her cheeks, her nose, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. all of it. frantic, relieved, grinning. like he just found out the universe wasn’t playing a joke on him after all. like it’s real now. and she’s just laughing softly, tangled in his lap, letting him love on her without saying anything else.

until she leans her head on his shoulder, still kind of sticky and disheveled, her bare legs wrapped around his waist, and mumbles—

“so… what now?”

he exhales a breath of a laugh, kisses the side of her head again.

“now,” he starts, glancing at the door like it might fly open at any second, “we clean up before someone like hoseok comes through that door and finds us like this—” he gestures vaguely to the pile of clothes, the mess, them on the floor, still glowing like a pair of sinners caught in the sun.

she groans, face burying into his neck, giggling like she knows it’s a close call.

“—then,” he continues, more seriously this time, “you let me take you out on a breakfast date tomorrow.”

that gets her. she lifts her head, blinking at him like he’s said something profound. “breakfast?”

he nods. “yeah. like pancakes, coffee, awkward first date questions we already know the answers to.”

her smile softens into something that makes his chest feel too small.

“okay,” she says. “yeah. i’d like that.”

and for once, yoongi’s not thinking ahead.

not worrying.

not pretending.

he just nods and holds her tighter, like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

quietly , always cigarettesuga . ୨ৎ

taglist Ꮺ @aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @h6rtf9lt @wynterlove @rpwprpwprpwprw @annyeongbitch7 @namgimini @princesstiti14

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heesdreamer · 20 days ago

Text

Wishful Thinking

PAIRING ➩ jungkook x reader

WC ➩ 20k

SUMMARY ➩ Born and raised in the busy city, you are in for a major life shift when you’re sent to the country side. You imagine the farmers son won’t be much help. (nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter)

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Marking this as my official leave from retirement. This is the first work since Skin on Skin I feel a genuine connection too and I can proudly say I love it a lot. I hope you like it as much as me! Please check out the playlist and listen as you read if you'd like

Growing up in the city had influenced a few factors of your core development and the way you went about life. You took a second to open up to strangers, had faster reflexes than most people you’d met from other places and could ignore the sound of a horn two feet from your ear.

What it hadn’t done is making you a spoiled and sheltered brat, although you imagined your father would place some strong disagreement on that statement.

It absolutely had not made you the type of person that was so ‘out of control’ you needed to be sent to the middle of absolute nowhere to learn a thing or two about respect and taking care of things other than yourself.

This was not an issue you had and you could not fathom the fact you had been in the car for six hours now heading towards your new summer hell. You were in your early twenties and you should have slammed the door in your fathers face when you opened it to his scowl but sadly, his name was on the lease and he probably would have had the door removed.

Instead you had packed two bags, said bye to your precious cats and dragged your feet all the way to the car.

You imagined your fathers vehicle had never seen so much dirt in its life and even he seemed a bit bothered by the gravel roads that left a cloud of dust all over his doors and windows. Your father had been raised almost exactly the same as you so it felt a bit ironic and hypocritical.

It was not your fault he was a wealthy businessman, stationing his small family in the bustling streets of the city instead of a nice sized home somewhere. Your idea of dinner around the table was grabbing a bite to eat at the local pizza place, your fridge covered in project plans and work reminders instead of toddler art and positive report cards.

Your dad had raised you in a cold apartment suited for a bachelor, leaving you to get your fatherly advice from doormen and paying cleaning ladies extra to change your diapers. He was somehow still surprised to see you standing with a glare on your face as you exited the car and stared at the farm house.

“Atleast try to be pleasant.” He mumbled under his breath, the familiar expression he had whenever he felt embarrassed by you creeping up on his face. You had seen it your entire life, when you stood too slouched in front of a client or stuttered giving a speech at a company dinner.

You sent him a stronger dirty look that easily slid off your face when the door opened.

Despite what he may think, you actually were not a terrible person and you had no intentions of disrespecting the home owners even though you would rather eat the horses hay than have to stay here.

It was actually a beautiful home, grand in size with a large wraparound porch and land full of crops and various sized barns and pens.

There had been a faint memory of coming here a handful of times when you were younger, listening to your father take a gentle and relaxed tone you had only heard a few times and playing with the farmers boy that was around your age.

That had been a lifetime ago and while the landscape was relatively nostalgic and familiar, you had changed so drastically that you couldn’t feel more out of place if you tried.

You watched as the large bearded man approached your father, pulling him into a tight hug unlike his friends back home who would greet him with a firm handshake. This man clearly did not care about your fathers hesitance to embrace him, the rim of his cowboy hat knocking your fathers thin framed glasses slightly askew.

You had a hard time holding in a laugh at his dishevelled appearance after the bear hug and the man's sights set on you right as a smile crept up on your face.

“There she is.” He greeted you like he was an uncle you saw frequently and your eyes widened at the realization he was coming to give you a similarly tight hug, knocking the breath out of you as he nearly lifted you from the ground.

“Sorry honey, we are huggers around here.” You hadn’t even noticed the small woman behind his staggering frame and you caught her gentle eyes in your gaze right before she pulled you in for a much softer hug. “Except for my son sadly. He didn’t quite inherit that trait I suppose.”

The boy hadn’t left the porch, a few feet behind his parents as he stared at you and your father with an expression that was much colder than his warm parents held. You could tell he had already built some bias around your visit and you didn’t mind considering you had done the same, defenses building at his sour look.

“I’m sorry but I..” You trailed off awkwardly as you glanced between the bubbly couple, hoping they could understand so you didn’t have to tell them vocally that you had no idea who they were. The woman's face dropped just slightly but the farmer gave you a soft smile as he cupped your arm.

“That’s alright honey.” His gentle tone almost made you want to turn around and jump head first into the car, creeping its way under your skin and making you feel like that little girl that used to sneak branches in her room to use as a christmas tree. “It’s been lifetimes since we got to see you.”

His gaze fell over your shoulder towards your father with that statement and you almost thought it sounded hostile, or however hostile somebody so warm could manage. Your fathers throat clearing behind you confirmed your belief and you looked down at your feet as you were ushered inside.

You learned from listening in on the conversation silently that he was in fact a bit upset with your father. The man, Minchul apparently as you heard his wife softly calling him, had made a handful of comments about missing out on your life that he was attempting to disguise as jokes.

You had watched enough tense conversations with businessmen to be pretty good at picking up on what people actually wanted to say. Your father responded each time with a different excuse about being busy but you knew he wished he could tell the farmer that he simply outgrew him and whatever this dynamic was.

The woman had told you softly that her name was Nari and you watched as she barely sat down, bouncing between the table and the kitchen whenever she noticed somebody was running low on their drink or the finger foods she had prepared.

Her tending to you all didn’t feel like the panicked way your fathers cooks would try to keep him pleased and calm but rather like she enjoyed taking care of the people around her, eyes bright whenever you thanked her or took a bite of something she had made.

“Jungkook will be helping her with her chores and duties.” Minchul’s low voice was bringing you back to the conversation, interest spiked as you realized they were discussing your stay there.

You had very little information about how long you would be here or what exactly you were meant to accomplish but your eyes shifted over to the son at the mention of his name, sitting across from you and also not having spoken a word.

He was staring at his father as he spoke, gaze unwavering and still as cold as it had been outside. You had realized outside that he was the same boy you had played with when you were a kid but he had clearly changed as much as you had because he no longer had an ounce of welcoming energy to him.

“If she gives you any trouble son, feel free to call me.” Your father was speaking directly to him like you weren’t even there and Jungkook’s jaw shifted at the use of the word ‘son’.

A smile almost crept back up at the interesting reaction but it faded as soon as he looked at you, curious like he expected you to say something snobbish in return to your fathers jab. You didn’t have any plans to, used to him warning people about you like you were a walking disaster.

“I’m sure we can manage.” His voice was flat and lacking any real care but you hadn’t figured he would reply at all, let alone with something borderlining disrespectful.

The rest of the table seemed to agree because the room fell silent at his comment and your dad seemed taken back by the fact Jungkook hadn’t immediately agreed with his implication. You barely moved, not wanting to put yourself on the wrong side of things while he was still here.

“Apologize.” Minchul was speaking the word hushed and you looked at him with widened eyes, not even realizing it had been him speaking considering how cold it came out. It was completely different to the tone he used with the rest of you but Jungkook didn’t seem affected at all.

“I’m sorry sir.” He said it easily, practiced and lacking any real apology. It seemed the phrase alone was all his father wanted to hear because his shoulders lost tension and he awkwardly patted the table as he changed the subject to something about your dads car.

You removed yourself mentally from the conversation again but you caught the way Jungkook’s mom rubbed his shoulder soothingly as she passed him on her back to the kitchen.

----

“You are really just leaving me?” Your voice was icy as you watched your father toss your bags out of his car, squinting his eyes at the dirt it brought into the air and glaring at you like it was your fault. “I don’t even know these people.”

“I do.” He said simply as he closed the trunk and watched you with disappointment swirling in his gaze. You could tell there was a lot he wanted to say to you but as always, he left it plain and gave you a firm nod that you knew put an end to this conversation.

You did nothing but watch as he got into the driver seat and pulled off down the dirt road, headlights disappearing behind the trees and fields of corn. You sighed softly and sunk down on the rocky path way, not really caring if they were watching from the window and judging you.

You didn’t know these people and it was hard to even process that this was really happening to you right now. The sun had fully set when you stopped thinking yourself away and you realized you had been outside for a lot longer than you had meant to be.

Nobody had come out to get you or even check if you were alright but you figured they were just giving you the space to throw your internal tantrum before inevitably accepting your fate and figuring out what to do from there.

Your sigh turned into a dragged out and low groan as you buried your face in your dusty hands, cringing away when you felt the sting of the debris entering your eyes and realizing you felt like you were going to cry regardless of the pain.

“You sleeping out here?”

You jumped at the sudden voice coming from your right, looking sideways at a pair of dirty and ripped boots before trailing up the tall frame and landing on Jungkook and a raised eyebrow. He had been the last person from the family you expected to come outside to collect you and you groaned again.

“I just need a minute okay?” Your voice came out cold but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about his feelings right now. He was unwillingly participating in your banishment but it was still participation in your eyes and for that alone, you disliked him.

“City girls and their minutes.” It was mumbled under his breath but loud enough for you to hear. You didn’t even warrant it with a reaction, staring numbly at the gravel and willing a loose horse to run him over with your mind.

He didn’t leave the entire time you sat there and you could feel him staring at your back as you practically curled into a ball. Eventually you stood up calmly, dusted yourself off and headed inside the house.

----

Jungkook had silently left your bags at the foot of your door and disappeared down the hall into what you assumed was his own, soft music coming from behind the peeling wood. You left your door open, feeling awkward in the unfamiliar room like you had somehow broken into this nice family's home and crawled into a random bed.

You barely slept at all the first night and the sound of the roosters screeching only two hours after your eyes actually closed was enough to make you consider hitch hiking back to the city.

The entire family was downstairs in the kitchen to your dismay and you couldn’t fix your face in time, seeing the concern radiating from Nari as she took in your exhausted eyes and closed off demeanor. You mumbled a morning greeting and shifted onto the seat furthest from them all.

“Did you sleep okay?” She asked softly as she placed a glass of orange juice in front of you and you nodded at her, both of you knowing you were being nice rather than honest. She pursed her lips and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder for a second as reassurance that she understood.

“Good because you have a long day today.” Minchul sounded as cheerful as yesterday but there was an underlying tone to his voice that made you not want to disobey him. He made pleasant conversation with his wife as you and Jungkook ate silently on the other side of the table.

Jungkook hadn’t even waited for you to finish eating, cleaning off his place and kissing his mom on the side of the head before pushing through the front door. You watched in disbelief as he left you behind, scarfing down the rest of your eggs and rushing after him, nearly tripping down the stairs as you followed him to the largest barn.

The smell was assaulting but you didn’t visually react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction considering he was leaning against a slate of wood and watching you for any signs that you were going to complain.

When you gave him a firm and determined stare he was tossing a silver bucket in your direction, both of you tracking it as it hit the barn floor and bounced a few times.

“Seriously?” You remarked, your first real word of the day being forced out due to disbelief. He didn’t answer and instead entered one of the stalls holding a large cow. “Couldn’t just hand it to me?”

There was no reply again and you sighed as you followed him, scowling when you saw the black and white animal staring at you with a bored expression. Jungkook slid a small stool over to you before leaning back again on the wall of the stall. The cow took a step towards him and you flinched back as its large belly almost pushed you over.

“Am I supposed to do something with him?” You gestured at the stool and cow in confusion and Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a girl.” He said simply and you gave him an incredulous look, feeling like you were going insane from attempting to communicate with him. “You’re supposed to milk her.”

You stared at him silently for a few seconds, trying to figure out if he was joking or not before glancing at the bucket and realizing he was apparently very serious. You took a breath so deep that it moved your entire body as you tried to calm yourself, ignoring the slightly amused look he grew at the action.

You hadn’t even sat fully on the stool before he was speaking again.

“Wrong.”

You glared at him and adjusted your position, leaning forward hesitantly to reach out to the cow.

“Wrong again.”

Another attempt, a different section of the utters that looked as foreign as the rest of the large creature. She shifted like she felt as awkward as you did for touching her and you sighed at his lack of interjection.

“Touch her there and she’ll probably kick you in the face.”

You let out a loud and bitter laugh that made the cow grunt softly, standing from the stool and shoving it in his direction. He watched you quietly as the rage built up inside you, even more so at the indifference on his face.

“If you aren’t even going to attempt to help me, then you go ahead and do it.” You spat as you pointed between him, the bucket, and the cow. He didn’t say anything again and the silence was somehow more annoying than him making small comments towards you.

He wordlessly moved the stool and you sat down with a huff, at first just picking at your fingers and then deciding to actually watch as he milked the cow. It was slightly interesting, especially considering your current options for entertainment.

His hands were gentle with the animal and she seemed a lot more relaxed now that he was the one near her undercarriage and not some strange girl with tense shoulders and shoes that definitely weren’t made for a barn floor. It was intriguing to you to watch the cows body language change so outwardly.

Jungkook finished up after some time and you followed him to his next set of chores. This time and the next, he didn’t bother trying to get you to do anything. Instead he did them all easily and allowed you to simply watch as he herded the sheep into their pens, poured disgusting sludge into the trough for the pigs and dragged the stubborn horses back into the gated area.

By the end of the day, you were exhausted without having done much at all.

He didn’t even seem phased by the fact he had spent the entire day in the sun doing hard physical labor and you sighed as he walked ahead of you back to the house.

You felt like an invisible shadow following him around all day with little to no conversation between you and it pained you to watch the sun set knowing you had wasted your time and learned nothing but the fact Jungkook was a stubborn asshole.

His dad was waiting on the porch as you approached and you watched as Jungkook’s back hardened at the sight of the kind man. He was smiling largely but it was past his son and towards you, clapping his hands in delight as he took in the dirt on your pants and your sweat dried hair.

“How was your first day?” He asked warmly as you ascended the steps. Jungkook had slowed down to let you pass and he lingered at the patch of grass near the bottom. “Was he a good teacher?”

The shift in his tone made you glance backwards towards the teacher in question and his flat face showed no sense of what he wanted you to say. You felt like you were hesitating too long and you turned back to Minchul with a soft smile.

“The best. I learned a lot actually.” You said gently and he smiled proudly, a large hand between your shoulder blades as he led you inside for dinner.

Jungkook was as silent as always but he didn’t look as unimpressed with you when you caught his eyes across the table. There was a beat of nothing before he gave you a small nod, enough for you to understand he appreciated you lying to his dad for him.

Dinner was calm and quiet as you zoned out from exhaustion and you barely flinched when his parents asked you to work together to get the dishes washed and dried quickly. You moved on autopilot to the sink and responded with a light mumble as they wished you both a goodnight.

Jungkook stood wordlessly next to you, taking each wet dish you handed him as he dried them precisely with a towel. It was quiet through the first half of the sink and then he was clearing his throat with a hint of awkwardness.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said in a near whisper. You didn’t even glance at him, handing over another dish casually.

“I didn’t do anything but spare myself the awkwardness of watching you get lectured.” Your tone was flat like it genuinely meant nothing to you but you figured you both knew the reason you had done it. He seemed tense at your answer so you sighed softly. “I know what it’s like to have a dickhead for a father.”

He paused his movements when you said that and you wondered if it was the wrong thing to speak into the quiet kitchen before you heard him laugh softly under his breath.

It didn’t take a psychologist to realize Jungkook had a different relationship with Minchul than most other people would. His cold and harsh tone towards his son seemed to come out of thin air the second he laid his eyes on the younger man and you felt yourself becoming more nosy than you should be.

Their dirty laundry was none of your business and you hurriedly finished dishes.

----

The next day's chore list actually seemed a bit more lax and you quickly understood that he must do all of the extremely difficult things at the end of the week.

Monday was more about maintenance and you felt a little guilty for doing nothing yesterday so you were glad that you could actually help with some smaller stuff, both going stir crazy from doing so little with yourself and also feeling useless the more he sweated and moved around.

You helped sweep loose hay from the stables, collected eggs from under the squawking hens and even assisted him in filling up the water barrels with fresh and clean gallons. You were actually feeling a little satisfied with yourself when the day started to come to a finish and you glanced at him to see what you had to do next.

He surprised you when he pulled two small items out of his jean pockets, fidgeting with them until the lighter was producing a flame that he used to light the rolled up paper. You eyed him curiously as he inhaled around the joint before stretching his hand out towards you without so much of a glance or a word.

“Wow.” You breathed out a mocking laugh as you took it from him, studying it before putting it between your lips and speaking around it. “I am genuinely shocked right now.”

He laughed flatly at your tone and looked at you from the corner of his eye. You were sitting on a small hay bale while he leaned against the large wheel of an old tractor, behind one of the barns a bit further away from the house.

“It’s rude to make assumptions about people.” He said flatly as he took the joint back but you knew he wasn’t serious, lightheartedly replying to you and only furthering your bewilderment.

“What would your dad say if he knew you were getting me stoned right now?” You were only teasing and you hoped he could tell by the tone in your voice, it seemed like he did because he shrugged his shoulders casually.

“Less what he would say and more what he would do.”

The statement was heavier than he intended it to be and you both fell silent at the darker implication to his words. He passed it back to you and you watched him for a long moment before hitting it, seeing the way he almost winced at himself for saying something so awkward.

You let it hang in the air for a few minutes as you listened to the sounds of his inhales paired with the animals in the distance as they got ready for bed. EVentually you were sighing and his eyes went to you, almost in anticipation.

“Good thing I don’t tend to make a habit of reporting back to fathers.” You lifted your shoulders like it was a simple thing to say and his face flashed with something heavier again.

You’d smoked weed before a few times but Jungkook either had some especially strong country grown shit or your tolerance had significantly diminished because you somehow ended up in one of the sheep fields, both flat on your backs as you looked up at the stars.

For once you appreciated the fact he didn’t talk much because you felt a bit ridiculously emotional at the sight of them all. A childhood of light polluted skies had robbed you of star gazing and pointing out made up planets so it was overwhelming to see so many of them above you.

Jungkook seemed to be thinking similarly despite growing up under this sky, his mouth parted a bit in awe every time you glanced over at his side profile a few feet away from you.

“I get why you guys like it out here now I think.” You said wistfully, voice a little breathier than you realized it was when it was escaping you. He laughed a little at the sudden declaration and it didn’t seem as mocking as it had a few hours ago.

“Thought it would take longer to whip you into shape.” He joked back, voice a little higher than normal and you figured it was the high having settled in that was making him more comfortable to engage in conversation with you. “Some sweeping and a view was all you needed to appreciate the simple life?”

He was clearly messing with you and almost mocking your fathers reasoning for sending you here but you felt a light sting deep in your chest.

Jungkook was not the reason for it but he was the accidental messenger of the rhetoric your father had been spewing at you since nearly middle school. He couldn’t fathom a world where you cared about things or paid attention to people other than yourself.

It felt impossibly suffocating to argue with somebody who had a different reality in their head, left wondering how would you begin to correct a version of yourself that didn’t exist?

There were no number of saved movie tickets and sentimental souvenirs, no hours spent making your friends a sloppy birthday cake instead of buying them something store prepared, and no amount of love and empathy in your heart that could convince him you were a thoughtful person.

“There's nothing simple about this.” You ignored your heavier feelings as you raised a limp hand to gesture to the endless sky.

“I’m sure the city has its own views.” He retorted and you turned your head to the side when you noticed a hint of longing in his voice. He stiffened like he could feel you staring but didn’t look at you, eyes a bit more shifty.

“Breathtaking ones. I never get used to it.” You said back softly, wondering if that was something he wanted to hear or if it would fuel the fire to his apparent inner conflict. You were left wondering because he didn’t reply to you.

The silence didn’t last as long as usual, the intoxication in your lungs making you both a little less awkward and a little more lax when it came to unraveling useless information. He told you about the town's small population and how everyone he passed had probably changed his diapers at some point and you ranted about your cats back home and how guilty you felt for leaving them alone.

“Why didn’t you bring them here?” He said like it was an obvious option, maybe too high to remember that you weren’t exactly on a purposeful vacation. Your silence seemed to remind him of this fact and he kissed his teeth in realization. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“Your parents?” You said in confusion, rolling over onto your side in the grass so you could face him and groaning softly at the tightness in your back. He glanced at you and nodded, still laying flat and staring at the sky in between looks. “I don’t have anyone who would bring them here for me.”

Your voice barely held any bitterness, it was just the truth. It was a pretty big favor to ask even to somebody you would consider a friend and you didn’t even really have any of those anyways.

“Assuming you don’t know how to drive a stick.” He said thoughtfully and you shook your head with a light eye roll at his subtle jab. “I can take you.”

“What?” You sat up and he did the same, although avoiding looking at you head on. “Why would you do that?”

He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal he just offered to drive you twelve hours round trip just to bring your two cats all the way back here. He glanced back towards the house, the warm glow of the porch lights small considering how far out you were, and then back up towards the never ending sky full of stars.

“Gives me a break from chores.” He said noncommittally like he was offering to do a load of laundry for you.

You woke up the next morning with a soft knock on the guest bedroom door, opening it to see Jungkook leaning against the side of it with truck keys dangling around his finger. He gave them a little spin when he saw your eyes widen in surprise that he parents had actually agreed to the request he had made this morning after your conversation in the field.

You nod your head in understanding and close the door so you can hurriedly get ready, feeling a bit amused at the fact you’d been arguing only a few hours ago. Jungkook is silent when you find him in the living room and as he shows you to the truck, excitedly climbing into the passenger seat and waving goodbye to Nari who stands on the porch with a concerned look as she clutches a dish towel to her chest.

It felt beyond ridiculous that you were making this trip with somebody you barely knew and even worse, barely got along with.

He was silent for almost the entire first half of the drive, playing music from a rotating stack of CD’s and cursing under his breath whenever the truck made a particularly loud noise. It was comforting to feel the rumble underneath you as he shifted gears and passed miles and miles of barren farmland.

You had only been there for a couple days and you were already craving new scenery, eyes widening with excitement when you could vaguely make out the city skyline in the distance. You were still probably an hour out but it was undeniable the way your blood felt warmer.

“Do you see it?” You asked him excitedly, breaking the bubble of silence. You looked at him as you sat up but you didn’t need to hear his answer out loud, seeing it on his face as soon as you saw his expression.

His eyes were bright with awe and interest as you approached the tall skyscrapers and dizzying highways, traffic seemingly coming from every direction as he went from leaning forward to try and see the tops of buildings past the windshield and focusing on not missing the exits you rushed out with poor directional skills.

“It’s bigger than I thought.” He eventually said and it came out in one singular breath that made you smile, understanding the feeling all too well.

You let him take it all in so he didn’t get too distracted trying to navigate the busy and tight streets with hsi truck that stood out clearly compared to most of the more compact and practical vehicles around you.

You eventually managed to make your way to your apartment and he looked slightly surprised as he exited the driver seat and looked up at the building. He had heard stories of your dads lavish lifestyle so he clearly hadn’t been expecting the exposed brick and dirty windows of your building.

It was hard not to laugh at his expression, shaking your head and walking past him. You felt giddy knowing you would get to be home even if it was temporary and you could hear your cats meowing behind the door before you even pushed it open.

You greeted them enthusiastically as Jungkook closed the door behind you, eyes scanning around your small and homey apartment.

“Not exactly the penthouse suite.” He muttered and you glared at him from where you were crouching by your cats on the floor.

“Must to his dismay.” You didn’t need to say you were talking about your father for him to understand what you meant. “He won’t even step foot in this place.”

It felt especially ridiculous considering how nice and welcoming your apartment was. The walls were full of pictures of your friends and cats, postcards from random beachy cities covering your fridge door and mismatched furniture.

You had decided as soon as you moved in that you would make your place the polar opposite of the studio apartment you were raised in, trading in cold tile and sterile feeling lights for warm toned lamps and fuzzy rugs to comfort your feet.

“Do you need anything?” Your voice was softer than he had heard it before and Jungkook shook his head as he kicked his shoes off. You watched him quizzically before he gestured towards your clock on the wall.

“Might as well stay here tonight.” He said simply and your heart lurched at the idea of getting to sleep in your own bed. “I’m fine now but reckon I’d be exhausted halfway through the drive back.”

You weren’t even slightly planning to argue with that or question what his parents reaction would be, quickly standing to your feet to prepare something for him to wear other than his jeans and flannel. He stood there silently as you made him a comfortable bed on the couch, eventually wandering over to stare out your large living room window.

“Breathtaking right?” You spoke from behind him and he jumped a bit before nodding and glancing back at you.

“Yeah it’s beautiful.” He watched you for a few seconds before turning back to study the city and its seemingly never ending skyline.

Jungkook must have been more tired than he let on because he was asleep almost as soon as he laid down on your couch and you took a few hours to enjoy your space for the last time in a while, preparing your cats and their things both for travel and for extended stay.

It warmed your heart to picture them with so much space to run around, basking in the sun and chasing field mice while you did your chores. Jungkook was clearly being generous with his offer to take you but he really had no idea just how much it meant to you to have them with you in such an unfamiliar place.

He was just as quiet the next morning and as you brought your cat carriers and extra bags down to the truck but the ride back was a lot warmer and you felt ages less sour as you approached the town this time around. The hushed conversations between you felt smoother as you lost some of the awkwardness.

His father was sitting on the porch when you pulled back up and he enthusiastically greeted your cats in their carriers, Nari rushing out at the sound of your voices to help bring them inside.

You watched from the doorway as he gave Jungkook a firm nod and placed a hand stiffly on his shoulder. Jungkook pursed his lips at the action of approval and returned the nod with one of his own.

“Was that good?” You whispered to him as he passed you in the doorway and he let out a large breath that you imagined he had been holding since he left the truck.

“Yeah, I think it was.” He said back and you smiled at him, glad he had not gotten in trouble for trying to help you out.

The following week felt a lot easier now that you had a large piece of home with you, bed a little warmer with your cats curling up next to you. The chores were brutal and you were miserable half the time the sun was out but you were getting used to the ache of your body and the burn covering your skin.

Jungkook was still silent most of the day but he was doing things slower and more exaggerated so you could actually learn the few times he noticed you showing interest and paying attention. There were tasks you could do fully on your own now and you found yourself looking forward to when the sun would set and he'd knock on your door softly, an expectant look on his face as he flashed another joint between his fingers.

It was a nice routine for the two of you to wander out to the field near the sheep barn, smoking until the tightness of your bones faded enough for you to giggle into the grass and tell eachother random tidbits about your life.

“I heard your dad tell mine that you ran away.” Jungkook said gently one night when your conversation started to borderline on serious and you said nothing for a while.

“At 22 I thought it would just be considered taking a vacation.” Your voice was half humorous and half bitter, the latter side much more apparent in your tone. You sighed so deeply you felt like you were going to melt down into the dirt. “I’ve been further away for much longer, he only noticed this time because one of his clients saw me while traveling.”

“You went alone?” His questions rarely held so much interest and you glanced at him, finding him staring at the stars with his eyebrows furrowed like he hadn't considered that possible.

“I’m always alone.” You shrugged to yourself. “Aren't you?”

You weren’t trying to make a harsh assumption but you’d been there two weeks and not once did Jungkook leave the farm land other than your trip to the city. His parents went off to town a few times a week or to a friend's house for supper but Jungkook stayed throughout it all, never once hearing mention of a friend of his or seeing a photo somewhere in the house.

He shrugged but it was one of those times where you both already knew what his answer would be. His eyes shifted over to you and you watched curiously.

“Not so much anymore.” He said plainly but you smiled a bit at the implication, knowing it was probably a change for him to have you following behind his trail all day long. Maybe even a welcomed change now that you were getting along finally. ly.

You and Jungkook spent the next week with the exact same routine and now that you were used to most of it, you felt yourself going stir crazy. Little things were always changing, animals needing more help than usual or storms making it so you had to help around the house instead but for the most part everything stayed exactly the same.

It was a welcomed assignment when Nari softly asked you to take horses into town and pick up a few things. You didn’t ask why you couldn’t just take the truck even though you were beginning to wish you had as you stared at the large creature.

“You know I can’t ride that, right?” You said simply as you shook your head firmly. Jungkook laughed a little at your fearful tone before gesturing at the single saddle he had pulled off of the wall.

You were confused for a few seconds before realizing he was insinuating you both get on the horse together, your gaze shifting over to him to see him standing by the horse and clearly waiting for you to reach the same conclusion.

“You’re joking aren’t you?” Your voice shook a little as you squeaked out the question.

Clearly he wasn’t because Jungkook had easily lifted you up onto the large horse before swinging his leg over and situating himself naturally. You were left sitting behind him, feeling like you were about to throw up and having no choice but to wrap your arms tightly around his middle.

He was laughing at you when you squeezed your grip anytime you took a turn or the horse sped up to cross a road. It felt a bit ridiculous as some cars passed you but you saw more and more horseback people as you got closer to town and almost all of them enthusiastically greeted Jungkook.

The stories he had told you about knowing everybody here were clearly true because he couldn’t be more liked if he tried.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the market and Jungkook reached a hand up to you so you could slide off the horse, his hands sturdy above your hip so you didn’t land the wrong way. You eyed him as he tied the large animal to a post outside, petting its nose softly and whispering something you didn’t hear.

A whistle behind you made his hands freeze and both of you turned to see an older man sitting outside the market, a bucket full of loose change infront of him and a brown paper bag around a glass bottle sat on his lap.

“Pretty little thing.” His accent was even heavier due to the slur in his speech and your eyes narrowed as he scanned down your frame. Jungkook’s mother had left some pretty farm dresses and cowgirl boots outside your door a few nights ago and you had been excited to wear them until his eyes were on your bare legs. “Ain’t from around here.”

It was a statement and not a question and you scoffed at him.

“What gave it away?” You said coldly. You knew you still didn’t carry yourself like somebody from the country even when you wore their clothes and did their labor, the lack of a drawl in your voice really not helping you towards fitting in.

You could feel the presence of Jungkook approaching behind you now that he had gotten the horse situated and you glanced over your shoulder. His face was cold again and he was a lot closer to you than he typically would be, nearly touching your back to his chest.

“Johnny.” He said simply, addressing the man and making himself known.

“Oh you’re Jeon’s boy aint you?” He said with an amused smile, looking like he was suddenly reminiscing. Jungkook must have nodded or given him a confirming look because the man was suddenly laughing so hard he was swaying to the side. “Them Jeon’s… are good men.” He pointed at Jungkook as he paused, then laughed loudly again.

You felt yourself reaching back and wrapping your hands around Jungkook’s elbow before you could think about it, going to pull him towards the entrance so you both could leave this conversation and not hear whatever it was he was laughing so hard about.

The man's eyes flashed with interest when he saw you touching his arm, hugging it to your side in a way that could come across as intimate rather than instinctual.

“Oh, is this your missus?” He called and you saw an older couple's head turn with annoyance at his loud tone and the outdated phrasing, shaking their heads in disapproval.

Jungkook’s cheek shifted as he addressed you like that and you sighed at the realization this was going to take you too far off track for you to bother with. You tugged him softly and ignored the obnoxious laughter coming from behind you as you entered the market.

“Just ignore it.” You said softly, not letting go of his arm even when you were deeper into the store. He glanced at you like he was upset you hadn’t let him handle it and that furthered your reasoning for keeping a hold on him.

“He was disrespectful.” He said plainly, eyes still heated even when you stopped walking and turned to face him. The tips of your boots touched his as you reached into his shirt pocket to pull out the list his mother had given him, catching him stuffing it in there before you mounted the horse. “How can he talk to a woman like that?”

“He was a drunk idiot.” You stated, catching his eye for a second as you stood there before realizing how close you were and taking a step away.

Jungkook still seemed irritated as you shopped, filling a basket full of the ingredients his mom had written in neat handwriting. He took the basket from you when it was more than half full and starting to get a little heavy and you gave him a thankful look.

It was hard for him to stay annoyed considering the countless older women that stopped to coo at him and ask him how his parents were, remarking on the last time they’d seen him and how tall and handsome he had grown up to be.

This was something you had also noticed, much to your dismay.

You figured you had been too distracted your first two weeks but your general dislike for your situation and Jungkook himself to realize the devastating fact that he was actually the most attractive person you had been around.

He was now constantly distracting you without even meaning to, tan skin and big eyes so effortlessly lifting things two times your size and controlling stubborn animals. It was a bit ridiculous that somebody with forearms that veiny and strong also looked that good in a stupid cowboy hat.

Even now, leaning against a fridge as he watched you scan over the list in his washed denim jeans and giant belt buckle. It was something straight out of a cowboy fantasy and you felt like a fool for falling victim to it.

It didn’t help your new found dilemma that he was also the sweetest person you had ever met now that he was done giving you the silent treatment and glaring everytime you messed something up.

Whether it was natural southern hospitality or his mothers teachings, Jungkook was a well mannered boy down to his core and did not consider opening the door for you or carrying bags for the older women in the store anything other than the bare minimum.

You weren’t surprised that he was so aggravated by the drunk man for eyeing you or calling you his missus, like you were a piece of property because that was just the type of guy Jungkook was.

“Reckon we are almost done?”

And then there was that.

Your eyes shifted over to him as his voice broke you from your thoughts and you almost outwardly sighed in annoyance with yourself. Never once in your entire life had you considered that a southern accent might bring your heart into your throat but apparently that was just something that happened to you now.

You imagined Jungkook didn’t even think he had an accent let alone realized how heavy it was but the low drawl and phrases he used made you feel like a preteen girl who had just discovered british boy bands for the first time.

“Yeah pretty much, just…” You trailed off as your eyes landed on a small booth tucked in the back corner of the vendor section.

Jungkook squinted at you before turning around and scoffing a little when he realized what had caught your attention so easily.

You felt like your feet were magnetically drawn to the rows of pretty farm dresses, lace bandanas and cowgirl hats. Your eyes were wide as you took them all in, already feeling your bank account emptying. The clothes Nari had been bringing you weren’t hideous but they certainly weren’t the most flattering things you had ever worn.

He stood there holding the baskets of groceries while you pointed out everything you wanted to the woman at the booth, smiling happily as you left the store with your arms full.

“You’re ridiculous.” He said flatly as he shook his head and situated the grocery bags in the saddle bags on each side of the horse. His words lacked any heat and you rolled your eyes as you watched him.

“What I am, is sick of sharing a closet with your mother.” He shot you a look. “No offense.”

A laugh escaped him as he finished, turning to you expectantly. It felt more natural now to step closer to the massive animal and he stared at you as you stood in front of him, making sure you were ready and nodding when you gave him an expectant look.

His hands were back on your hips, confirming to yourself that you were inching into delusional territory when your stomach lit up. He was easily lifting you almost above his head so you could swing your leg over the saddle, further forward than you had been.

You almost scooted back to your place but he was mounting before you could and you quickly realized he had placed you there purposefully, now sat behind you with his thighs on the outside of yours.

“Oh so I’m steering now?” You glanced back at him and he looked amused, taking off his hat and adjusting it before placing it on your head. You squinted at him and his mischievous expression before quickly facing forward when he was kicking his foot and whistling lowly to get the horse to start to move.

“Lucky is good to learn on.” He said simply and you suddenly considered steering you both into a lake when you heard his low voice now behind you and near your ear. “He’s gentle.”

“He’s huge.” You remarked plainly and this time when he breathed out a short laugh you could feel it on the back of your neck.

You rode in pleasant silence and the sun was far less brutal now that it was starting to set, the little bit of shine kept out of your eyes by his hat sitting comfortably on your head. You tried to ignore that flutter in your chest at the fact you were wearing his hat and riding his horse, back pressed to chest even if it was just for safety.

“Does it ever get annoying living in such a small town?” You mused in a calm voice after another group of people waved to Jungkook. “Running into ex girlfriends all the time I bet.”

He didn’t respond right away and you swore you thought you felt him tensing behind you. You glanced over your shoulder at him, hoping to find him wearing an amused expression and instead he was just staring at you blankly.

Your eyebrows furrowed for a long second before you were turning back forward with a mouth parted in understanding.

Suddenly it was awkward and you mentally punched yourself for being the one to bring the uncomfortable air to the conversation. Neither of you said anything and you somehow decided that was worse than whatever was about to come out of your mouth.

“Sorry. There’s nothing wrong with that, you know?”

“Just stop talking.” He grunted behind you, sounding more pained and embarrassed than angry with you. “It makes it way worse when you say stuff like that.”

You weren’t sure how anything could make it better but you genuinely didn’t think any less of Jungkook for not having a girlfriend before, if anything it felt a bit ridiculous considering what he looked like but you definitely could not say that to him.

Instead you just fell into a silence that you hoped wasn’t marking the return of your feud. You gave him another apologetic look in the barn after he helped you down and he sighed softly when he saw it, giving you his habitual nod and taking his hat off of your head gently so he could wear it again.

You found yourself unusually bored without the company of Jungkook who had disappeared into his room almost as soon as you got back.

You ended up sitting on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, your more affectionate cat napping in your lap while the other brushed against the wood arches. You were attempting to write in your journal but your mind was blanking or rather full of other things.

There was genuine guilt inside of you for accidentally making Jungkook feel embarrassed but you weren’t really sure what to do about it, finding him hard to read when it came to certain things.

It was easy to tell when he was tired of a particularly repetitive chore, when he felt irritated by his dad more than usual, and when he was getting moody because he was hungry but how did you make him feel better about something like this without making him more humiliated when you brought it up again.

The boy in question was interrupting your string of thoughts and half composed apologies when he was bursting through the front door.

You sat up quickly, eyes wide from the way it slammed against the side of the house and cracked on its old hinges. You were just opening your mouth to ask him what had happened when Minchul was storming out right behind him, his belt in his hand and an expression that made your blood run cold.

“Do it again until it's right.” He was screaming down the porch at Jungkook’s tense back that didn’t stop moving.

He didn’t seem afraid necessarily but rather furious as he made his way to one of the barns, shoulders squared and barely giving you a glimpse of the glare on his face before he slammed the large door shut and disappeared inside.

“That damn boy is useless.” Minchul spat to himself and you stared at him with a shocked and fearful glance. He faltered when he noticed you sitting there and sighed softly, body relaxing just enough for you to narrow your gaze. “Sorry you had to see that honey. You think he would know better by now.”

You didn’t dare respond to him, not trusting yourself to hold back from saying something that would get you or Jungkook in any trouble, or any more in his case. Your eyes drifted to the belt in his tight grip and he sighed again before heading back inside.

Supper was painfully silent and you felt terrible for Nari considering she had spent hours preparing it.

You made sure to hum softly after every few bites, exaggerating the noise so she would know you found it delicious. She gave you a knowing look across the table and smiled at you, breaking the quiet with a soft question about how you liked the town.

It was unlike you to speak at the dinner table but the men were clearly abandoning that role for the night so you and her exchanged gentle small talk while you all ate, trying to make the room feel less suffocating.

You’d understood after the first few nights that it was expected of you and Jungkook to do the dishes so you hugged Nari goodnight and drifted over to the sink.

You didn’t say anything, didn’t ask him if he was okay in fear of making it even worse. His shoulders were still tense like they had been earlier and the look on his face was bugging you, not used to seeing it compared to his usual expressions.

“I’m sorry.” He surprised you by being the first to speak, a low mutter as he took a wet plate from you and dried it off. “He shouldn’t have done that in front of you.”

You wanted to retort that he shouldn't have done it at all but that felt stupid and obvious, something you both already knew and didn’t need to voice. You just shook your head at his apology, not needing to accept one from him.

“You’re a good man Jungkook.” You finally decided to say plainly, not emotion in your voice so he could take the words as simple and true as they were.

He faltered with his hand in mid air, only a brief second before he was taking another dish.

When you were done washing you leaned against the counter next to you, watching him and waiting for him to finish up. He wasn’t looking at you but you knew he felt you staring. He sighed when he dried the last one and finally turned towards you.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that princess?” He said with exhaustion lacing his words and although the name was mocking, it still sent a jolt through your body.

“You know you’re handsome right?” You weren’t trying to flirt with him, especially not with this awkward air from what you had seen. You were just genuinely wondering if he had even noticed, unable to tell by the way he carried himself.

Jungkook stared at you with an unchanging expression, like he was waiting for you to say something else or even laugh at him.

It wasn’t the first time you noticed the sheer size of him, not exactly the tallest man you’d met but certainly making up for it by the width of his shoulders and the broad muscle on his chest. His father was a naturally large man with a round belly and tall stature but you imagined Jungkook could take him quite easily in terms of strength.

“C’mere.” You baited softly, not moving from the counter and just watching him with an almost expressionless face. He took a few seconds but his feet were eventually moving and he was a few feet closer to you now.

Your hand was on his arm, gentle and tracing as you squeezed it lightly but kept your gaze locked on his face. His body was locked with tension as he looked at you, almost curiously.

“No girlfriends but..” You faded off when you saw the flash of annoyance pass over his face, not liking that you were bringing this back up again. “Have you ever hooked up with someone?”

The question lingered in the air adn you almost wondered if he was planning on rejecting you. He hadn’t done anything that made you think he was necessarily interested in you the way you were becoming interested in him but you knew you were relatively pretty and he clearly didn’t mind your company, showing it in his own stoic way.

“What’s it matter?” He mumbled back, shifting a step or two closer like he hadn’t realized he was.

His lack of an actual answer inside the response told you what you needed to know and he seemed to understand that considering the way he sighed.

“Do you think I’m judging you?”

Your head had cocked as you said it and he let out a humorless laugh at the earnest way you asked it.

“Aren’t you?” He retorted and it was a bit more heated than his voice had been before, defenses clearly up despite the way your hand was still smoothing over his arm as you had this conversation. “I’m not some loser.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the outburst, wondering when he had drawn that conclusion. It wasn’t that surprising that a southern boy would associate sexual experience with masculinity or social class but you shook your head.

“I already told you what I think of you Jungkook.” You answered back, stopping your hand from rubbing his skin and letting it just rest instead. “I think you’re a good man.” Your tone was gentle and smooth so he didn’t have any reason to think you were making fun of him. “And that you’re handsome.”

Your hand moved to sit on his firm chest and you could feel the way his heart raced underneath your palm, fast and pounding as you stared up at him. Jungkook might genuinely be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, sun kissed skin and scars littering his body from a lifetime of hard work.

His features were strong and manly but paired with gentle eyes that watched you quizzically and you were sighing softly without even meaning to. You hoped you weren’t overwhelming him with your sudden forwardness but there was only so much time you could spend watching him think lowly of himself before you longer to inform him of the way others viewed him.

You leaned up on your tippy toes while simultaneously bringing his face down so you could kiss him softly, thumb rubbing his jaw and cheek.

He only hesitated for a second before he was kissing you back, taking a few steps forward until your back was hitting the counter again but this time with his body pressing against yours. Your mouths moved together eagerly and you made a small noise when his hands were on your hips, yours moving to play with the hairs touching the back of his neck.

His height and size was making you feel crazy as he tugged you against him, his strong arms around you and the thought of how easily he had lifted your entire body earlier made you feel warm as you made out desperately.

The sound of someone clearing their throat was making you jump away from each other and your eyes were both wide with panic as you saw his mother standing at the bottom of the stairs in her nightgown. Your chest was rising and falling both from the intense make out session and embarrassment.

“I-“ You squeaked out in an attempt to explain but nothing followed and you almost thought his mom looked amused.

“Goodnight.” She said softly before turning back around like she hadn't seen anything. You’d expected to be sent up to your rooms for the night but clearly she was attempting to meddle by leaving you alone again.

The tension had popped and you awkwardly looked at Jungkook.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath as he watched his mom go back upstairs, his heart still beating like a drum in his chest. His cheeks were still flushed red with embarrassment, and he ran a hand sheepishly through his hair as he looked at you with an unreadable expression.

He took a deep breath and the sound made you feel way worse. You shifted on your feet, not really knowing what to do in this situation. It felt so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from bursting out into soft laughter and he gave you a disbelieving look.

Your forehead fell against his chest as you laughed softly, eyes squeezed shut from embarrassment. You felt his body shaking slightly as he joined you in your giggle fit and you were glad he wasn’t taking this as seriously as you feared he might.

You could feel his hand in your hair as he brushed it out of your face and your laughter faded off into a warm smile as you looked up at him, rocking onto your tiptoe to press against him in another kiss. It was much sweeter this time, lacking any real heat.

Only until his hands were back on your hips and then you couldn’t stop yourself from parting your lips and pushing deeper, grateful he had understood what you wanted when he pushed you back against the counter and tilted his head with yours.

It was picking up in pace again and your tongue was moving against his bottom lip, whining softly when he licked against your own and bringing one of your hands back to rub his hard chest.

“You’re a good kisser.” You remarked against his mouth and you could quite literally feel him smirk, the realization making you feel like you were truly going crazy.

“You’re pretty.” He said back in that same monotone voice he always had and you smiled at the now familiar sound of it. His hands tensed against your hips and you quickly got what he wanted, kissing him again with more fever after his compliment towards you.

You weren’t sure how you went from arguing with him a few weeks ago to making out desperately in his kitchen but it was hard to dislike the change in things when it felt so good, barely able to pull yourself away from him when he was whispering into your mouth that you needed to get some sleep.

He was right and you knew that but he practically had to maneuver you both towards the bedroom hall, stopping to kiss you along the way and laughing when your hands were stubborn in their exploration of his strong arms.

You’d closed your door and immediately pressed your back against it as you sucked in a deep breath, waiting until you heard his own close down the hall before you were throwing yourself on the bed and screaming into the pillow.

----

The next morning left you feeling slightly anxious and embarrassed, nervous to face Jungkook with your new development and downright terrified to see his mother.

She was alone in the kitchen when you ventured down and you froze at the bottom of the staircase, considering turning around and booking it back up the stairs until her gentle gaze landed on you and it was too late.

“C'mon honey, I won’t bite.” She said with amusement lacing her words and your shoulders halfway relaxed. You blushed and walked fully into the room, avoiding the counter she had seen Jungkook pressing you against last night like it was infected.

“I’m so sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to disrespect you and your house.” You said quickly with a sigh as you sat on one of the stools, not even planning to address it but unable to stop yourself from feeling foolish.

She watched you with patient eyes as you spoke it in one breath and then smiled gently. “I haven’t seen my baby smile like that since he was a boy. I know he’s a grown up now and he does what grown ups do.” Your face flushed at the implication and you suddenly wondered if she had already figured this was happening. “I think you’d do him some good.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to her kind words and you stayed quiet and stiff on the stool.

The floorboard creaking made you turn back to the doorway and you froze even more when you saw Jungkook standing there, his expression alerting you to the fact he had been there longer than you had realized and most likely eavesdropping.

“Hi.” You instinctively breathed out when you noticed him, ridiculously handsome in the early morning.

He cleared his throat and entered the kitchen, giving his mother a soft kiss on the cheek as a greeting before placing his hands on the island and looking at you awkwardly. “Hey.”

Nari suddenly decided she had something to do that involved her going out to the chicken coop but you didn’t miss the instigating look she shot him over her shoulder as she left. You almost thought his cheeks were tinged pink as he quickly looked away from her and your lips curled upwards just enough for him to sigh.

“Listen I-”

“Do you want to do something with me today?” He had cut you off and then froze like he hadn’t even realized you were speaking.

Your eyes were a little wide as you stared at him, forgetting what you were even trying to tell him, most likely something that would give him the option to pretend the kiss had never happened but you liked his idea a lot better.

“Something like.. other than chores?” You half teased as you reminded him that you did something with him almost every single day if farm work counted. He was nodding his head swiftly and going between avoiding looking at you directly and staring into your eyes intensely. “Yes Jungkook, I would. That sounds very nice.”

He looked overly relieved that you had agreed and you began to really question his sanity if he actually thought you would reject him after what had happened.

Jungkook had instructed you that you would need a bathing suit and something comfortable to walk in, not leaving much to the imagination about what he wanted to do but leaving you excited regardless.

You almost asked him how he had gotten the two of you out of duties but you saw Nari carrying a small bag of hay as you stepped out onto the porch and realized quickly she must have agreed to help out today.

She was giving you a soft look and you returned it with a small smile and a wave goodbye, hearing the hinges creak behind you as he made his way out of the house and paused next to you to look at his mom as she disappeared back to the nearest barn.

“Ready?” He said softly and you nodded your head at him, glancing to the side and feeling glad to see him smiling subtly.

The new development between you did not change the fact Jungkook didn’t talk much but it did mean he let you be the one to shuffle through his CD collection until you found something you liked. He actually had a few things you managed to recognize and you put in the back of your mind to request a mixtape of his favorite tracks.

You preferred the windows down and wind blowing to the cold and sterile AC of your car back in the city, hair in your face and the now familiar scents that the warm air danced through the old truck being things you had grown used to faster than your usual that you had simply tolerated for two decades.

He was tapping the steering wheel to the music and your eyes scanned over him briefly now that he was distracted.

He had abandoned his button up flannels for the day in place of a loose shirt that was tucked into his jeans and belt in random places, showcasing his large belt buckle that you had started to think was his signature.

Clearly you were obvious enough that he caught on to the feeling of you staring because he was sending you a sideways glance that made you laugh. Most guys would probably smirk cockily if they noticed you checking them out like that but Jungkook was certainly not most guys, quickly facing forward again and swallowing hard.

You watched from the side mirror as dust kicked up nearly to your window, feeling him shift gears as he pulled off onto the side of the dirt road.

There was nothing special about the area he stopped at, a simple stretch of road with trees canopy over the top and giving you a nice break from the sun. You looked at him, curious why he was stopping.

“Cmon.” He said and his eyes flashed with something bright before he was getting out of the driver's side and gesturing for you to slide across the bench seat of the truck so you could come out his door.

His hand was reaching out to grab yours, helping you out smoothly and the act made it so you were standing almost as close as you were the night before. He took a few seconds to let his eyes dart over your face before he was stepping back and keeping his hand over yours.

“It’s through here.” He breathed and you nodded, letting him gently guide you through the trees and brush.

You could see a faint desired path, dirt in place of grass where people had been stepping and venturing off from the road like you were now.

Luckily it wasn’t a long walk considering you were not exactly accustomed enough to the outdoor life to enjoy branches in your face but you were glad you had heeded his warning about comfortable shoes.

You felt his hand squeezing yours as he slowed his pace, leaving you almost stumbling into his back from your lack of paying attention.

He glanced back at you as you came to a stop beside him, hands wrapping around his arm similarly to the way you had held him at the market. He stepped to the side more so you could see what he was bringing you towards and your mouth parted.

The quarry was only a little bigger than a pond, surrounded on all sides by trees and tall rock walls that glistened from the water splashed on them by the numerous small waterfalls in various places alongside it.

The water was a beautiful blue-green shade that looked especially inviting given the heat today and there was a small slope that led to a patch of sand, sporadic bushes of flowers and long hanging vines decorating the empty spaces.

“Wow.” You breathed out as you stepped out of the tree line, walking along the top of the quarry until you could shuffle your way down the slope towards the beach.

Jungkook stayed right behind you, silent and squeezing your hand every so often whenever the path got a bit steep. You were grateful considering how little focus you had now that you were presented with such a beautiful sight.

“Do you like it?” He was asking softly when you made it to the waterline, the area even more breathtaking from down below. Your eyes scanned over the quarry walls around you now and you almost felt emotional.

You’d never seen anything even remotely similar to this and it was overwhelming you a little bit. It was like an oasis hidden just off the dirty road, untouched by civilization and nurtured by the elements around you.

“It’s amazing.” You turned to face him and he looked pleased that you were excited, biting the inside of his cheek and nodding as he took off his hat and placed it on a nearby log.

Your eyebrows raised in question before he was shifting backwards and kicking off his boots, a laugh of disbelief leaving you in a single breath.

The girlish giggle was leaving you before you could stop it and you didn’t care enough to feel embarrassed about the sound, hurriedly removing your easiest layers before pulling your dress over your head and leaving you in your bathing suit.

When you emerged from the lacy fabric you were greeted by a shirtless Jungkook and you fully froze, eyes locking on his chest and the full expanse of his tattooed sleeve that you’d been catching glimpses of whenever he wore a shirt.

You already knew he was strong, easily detectable by his stamina and how much he could move and carry without breaking a sweat. Plus the telling veins lining his forearms that pulses whenever he shifted or gripped something.

None of these small tidbits could’ve prepared you for the sight of Jeon Jungkook shirtless and you couldn’t even bother to disguise how intensely you were staring at his toned chest and the happy trail wedged between hard ab muscles.

Jungkook seemed to not even notice the way you were looking at him but that probably had something to do with the fact he was staring at you the same exact way, hair messy from removing your dress that now sat at your feet.

You imagined at another time it could’ve been heated but instead it was bashful, almost shy as you both came to reality and looked away in sync. Your cheeks felt warm again and you squinted up at the burning sun like it was the cause and not the pull in your stomach.

It was easier to run towards the water than face him again and he seemed to agree considering you could hear the sound of him entering right behind you.

The two of you splashed and played for nearly an hour, throwing handfuls of water and filling the echoing quarry with your shrieks and laughter as you did so. Your stomach was aching from how hard you were laughing and your cheeks felt even worse, in the best way possible.

You’d even begun to wonder if you had ever actually smiled before this exact moment, the happiness rushing through you feeling so foreign. You were completely detached from yourself.

The wealth of your family name, the cold expressions you both faced daily and learned to force onto yourself and even the heaviness of the city air and its routine were all fading from your mind. Right now you were simply a girl having fun in a beautiful place with a boy that liked you enough to free his day and show it to you.

Jungkook was either thinking similarly or simply recognizing your melancholy because the play splashing faded into the two of you slowly inching closer and closer in the water until your arms were looped around his neck and his settled warmly on your waist.

Your eyes were scanning over the parts of his chest that were not under the hazy water, cold fingers lightly tracing over the scars and marks littering his tan skin.

He was simply watching you, eyes on your face and only shifting away briefly whenever you made eye contact.

“Where'd you get this one?” Your voice was a whisper and it felt like the first time you’d talked in a while, smoothing over a particularly large mark spanning across his left collarbone all the way to his shoulder.

“Got bucked off Lucky when I was fourteen.” He said in a low voice, referencing the large horse you’d taken into town together. “Landed wrong on the wired fence.”

You nodded softly as he recounted the story, feeling a deeper warmth when you thought about teenage Jungkook and his mishaps as he grew into the practiced country man he was now. His hands squeezed your waist as your hand crept up to his cheek and you shifted closer.

“This one?” Your tone was more hesitant when you saw the look on his face at the touch, already knowing he’d be explaining that especially deep mark next.

“I was seventeen.” He started off slowly and you watched him, hand moving to cup his cheek and obscure the scar from your vision. His face instinctively pushed against your palm and he sighed. “Accidentally tipped a barrel of feed we were transporting to the neighbors. My dad sent me flying into the wall and I guess there was an old nail or something.”

It was the first time he had outwardly voiced what you already assumed and although you knew, it didn’t make it any easier to hear him say it.

“Has he always done that?” You whispered and he shook his head.

“Just when I became a teenager.” He said simply, like it wasn't a big deal to him. It probably wasn’t anymore and you couldn't help but frown softly, feeling worse when his eyes flashed with concern. “Happens less now.”

Another thing you didn’t need to hear out loud to understand. Jungkook was bigger now, stronger and harder to push around even if he allowed it up to a certain point. You had a feeling that he'd never lay a hand on his father to test the theory but you had full confidence he could lay him out if needed and you imagined Minchul had realized something similar.

You felt the words leave you, not exactly sure if that was what he needed anyways. There was nothing you could say that would make it stop and you figured he had thought of any reassuring phrases you would’ve come up with anyways.

There was only one thing that made sense to you and you hoped it was the right choice when you kissed him softly.

It was so gentle he barely felt it and then you were pulling back and pressing your forehead against his. His gaze was softer now and you could feel the wet droplets from his hair on your skin, his large hand leaving your hip underwater to hold your face and bring you into him again.

This time there was some heat behind the action, mouths moving together as you wrapped your legs around his middle to be as close as possible.

Jungkook kissed you deeply, a low noise sounding from his chest when you were tugging softly at his lower lip. It felt like a habit to tangle your tongue with his and you sighed against his mouth, one hand on his jaw with the other resting on his chest as he held you weightlessly in the water.

“Have I mentioned you’re a good kisser?” You breathed against his mouth and he made a low noise, used to your antics and teasing comments by now. His hands were under your thighs to keep you supported around his waist and you sighed as you fell back into a kiss.

It felt utterly ridiculous, disbelief still clouding your mind when you felt the butterflies in your stomach and the way your skin felt tingly wherever his hands traced. You had barely felt anything before you got here and suddenly your days were full of satisfying muscle aches and electric glances across the room with a boy who was holding you like he actually managed to care about you.

You felt like a fool for putting so much weight behind kissing him, behind being somewhere he considered special and laughing like little kids together.

“I am so happy you are here.”

All of your concerns faded away when he whispered the words against your lips, unable to keep kissing him but loving the way he pecked your mouth a few times before realizing you weren’t responding anymore and looking at you heavily.

Maybe he could tell it was something you needed to hear because one of his hands left your leg in favor of pushing your wet hair behind your ear, thumb tracing over your swollen lips.

“You mean that?” You accidentally whispered it and that felt much more vulnerable than you had meant it to come across, not able to stop yourself from seeking confirmation. You’d spent your entire life feeling like you were taking up space, a ghost in crowded conference halls and an investment only worthy of funding.

Jungkook had nothing to take from you, you had nothing to offer him here in this new version of you that you had barely begun to understand yourself and yet his eyes were soft and genuine as he nodded.

“I was just going through the motions before you.” He responded right when you needed to hear it most and the rare show of vocalized honesty from him hit harder. You could tell it was difficult for him to say these things out loud without feeling insecure and you appreciated it even more.

You kissed him eagerly and barely processed the way he was standing out of the water and easily carrying you to the shore, only recognizing your new location when your back touched the warm sand and you gasped softly.

It was swallowed by his mouth as he placed himself over you, holding his weight up with his left arm so he wasn’t exactly pressing against you. He felt even better in this position and your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him down and keeping his mouth moving with yours like it was the only way you could function.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there like that, going between kissing heavily and whispering sweet words to each other that made your chest tighten so much it felt like it was going to explode.

The sun had started to set and you felt slightly chilled in your damp suit, flushing when he noticed your shiver and silently moved to help pull your dress back over your head. He stood from the sand, offering a hand to lift you up and steadying you before finding his discarded shirt.

It was silent on the way back to the farm but welcomed. You had abandoned the passenger seat in favor of sitting in the middle, laying your head on his shoulder and smiling every time his hand moved from the gear stick to rest on your bare knee.

He had his left arm out the window as he tapped the top of it occasionally along to the music but he quickly withdrew it when you pulled in the long driveway and saw the porch light still on. It was dark by now but not quite late enough to cause any suspicion, sky a dark blue as the sun fully set.

You were glad you had enough sense to scoot back into your seat because you passed the scattered trees and could now clearly see Minchul stood on the porch, not at all trying to pretend he wasn’t waiting for you.

Jungkook was tense and his face was dark in a way that pulled a pout onto your face, hoping you didn’t have a sour end to such a beautiful day.

He sighed as he parked the truck and you reached your hand over to grab his, his eyes darting to you quickly like he had forgotten you were sitting there with him. You watched as his shoulders dropped as they lost their tension and he gave you a soft smile and squeezed your hand in his.

You were both exiting the truck and you gave Minchul a small wave, only slightly surprised that he didn’t return it. He was still keeping up the charming and friendly persona with you but clearly it didn’t matter when his hard gaze was locked on his son.

“How were the Johnsons?” He said lowly and you knew better than to respond or showcase any confusion on your face even though you had no idea what he was talking about.

“The Johnsons?” Jungkook’s voice was casual as he walked, barely faltering at the question and not even glancing at his dad as he stepped onto the porch. You stayed on the yard and watched them, breath held as it almost seemed like they were sizing each other up. You weren’t used to seeing any defiance from Jungkook and it worried you. “We were at the Lee’s. Mary said hello.”

He went inside, sending you a glance as he did and you stood there silently.

Minchul scoffed and you saw his jaw clench in annoyance, clearly wanting to test Jungkook and catch him in a lie. Nari and him must have come up with a cover story beforehand about where you two were the entire day, something you stupidly hadn’t even considered.

His gaze fell on you and while it wasn’t as icy, it still didn’t look thrilled to see you. You were glad you had become so accustomed to having a flat expression because the last thing you wanted was to be the one who fucked it up and got the both of you in trouble.

“Thank you for letting us have some time off.” You said softly, tone as polite as you could manage and he stayed very still for a few more seconds before giving you a small smile and nodding. You stayed there as he turned to head inside, finally letting out the breath you were holding.

----

It was difficult to know Jungkook was so close yet also understanding spending unnecessary time with him could get you in trouble potentially. You knew you were both adults but it was his fathers house and clearly he didn’t have sound reasoning for his hatred towards Jungkook.

As much as you wanted to lounge in his room with him and listen to music, you settled for opening your door and letting it float down the hallway towards you as you journaled.

You were back to chores the next morning like normal and you couldn’t help the shy smile on your face when you saw him in the kitchen. He returned it and you felt his foot nudge against yours when you slid onto the stool beside him, side eyeing him playfully as Nari brought you both a plate of breakfast.

There was a welcomed silence as you ate rather quickly and then you were both slipping out of the house, soft giggles escaping you at the fast way he walked towards the barn. He glanced behind you towards the house and must've determined the coast was clear because he was scooping you off of your feet to get you there quicker.

“You’re insane.” You laughed and slapped against his shoulder as he bridal style carried you into the barn, rounding the corner and setting you down when you were out of sight.

“Is that a bad thing?” His eyebrow went up and you narrowed your eyes jokingly, a bright smile on your face as you stared up at him. “Maybe I just missed you.”

You still weren’t used to the quiet boy you had grown accustomed to being able to say the most devastating things like he didn’t even realize what they did to you. You sucked in a breath at the statement and it wasn’t long before he was kissing you again.

There seemed to be a mutual addiction to the action now that you’d done it a few times and you were glad you weren’t alone in that, not sure what you would do if he wasn’t so willing to kiss you all the time.

Kissing you didn’t seem to be the only thing on Jungkook’s mind because it wasn’t long before he had you laid back against a blanket over the hay, making you half wonder if he planned this or if it was just a spontaneous decision. Either way you appreciated the gesture, not sure you could enjoy the way he was kissing down your neck as much if you had scratchy grass poking you back.

“Jungkook.” You gasped his name out when his teeth brushed over your collarbone and his back hardened at the sound for a second before he was humming, low and sensual as he questioned the reason for your call. “More.”

He picked his head up long enough to look into your eyes, scanning over your face with a dark expression you hadn’t quite seen from him. It was similar to the way he looked when he was particularly focused on a hard task but there was something deeper there and you suddenly felt flustered.

“Tell me what you want.” It was a soft instruction that subtly reminded you he didn’t really know what he was doing.

“Anything, just…” Your hands were in his hair and you kissed him softly as you tried to collect yourself, distracted by the way he was looking at you and the weight of his body on top of yours. “Just you. I just want you.”

That seemed to be enough for him to forget his inexperienced based hesitance because his mouth was back on yours, sloppy and hot in a way that made a shiver go down your spine. His hands moved under your dress, pushing it up so it sat under your ribs and exposed your lower half.

He went back to kissing down your neck and this time he didn’t stop at your dress, skipping your covered section and shifting his body further down so he could have his mouth on your stomach. You sucked in a gasp at the sensation, keeping your hands in his hair to keep yourself grounded under the illusion of some control.

It was a world changing sight to see him down between your legs like that, eyes darting from your lace panties back up to your face to make sure you were feeling okay. You imagined he was being met with a very eager expression on your face, nearly pleading as you took in his messy hair and doe eyes.

The first press of his lips alongside your inner thigh was almost enough to ruin your life and you whined softly, shifting your knees further apart so he had no issue getting where he needed.

“Quiet down princess.” The already low drawl of his voice had taken an even deeper tone and you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut like you were pained at the idea of silence. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful baby.”

He had no idea the way he was wrecking you with the pet names, made even more clear by the way his mouth was on your core through the thin wet fabric of your underwear. Your hips bucked as you made a strangled sound and his hand was shooting up to hold you down, pressing against your stomach and kissing his teeth at you like you were an animal he was trying to settle.

The instinctive way he attempted to tame you made your head spin, not even realizing how sexy you would find that until he did it.

“Jungkook.” You were breathing again and shifting your hips upwards, heat surging through you when you realized you weren’t even able to move under his strong hold. He was easily pressing you against the blanket with one hand and one of yours moved from his hair to pull at the waistband of your panties.

He didn’t need you to explain that to him, hurriedly sitting up enough that he could pull them down your thighs and grunting a little when you kicked them away, settling back between your legs and taking a deep breath at the sight of you bare.

“Please.” You pleaded and he looked back up at you.

“You want it baby?” He said lowly, a whole new persona to him you hadn’t even begun to fantasize about and you nodded eagerly, eyes a little glassy. “Want me to taste you?”

You made another high pitched impatient sound and he laughed a little, breath hitting your wet folds making your body tighten for a second.

He was finally done teasing you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet like he requested as soon as his mouth was on you, hands moving to your knees to keep your legs from clamping around his head as he licked against you.

“Oh fuck.” You whined and he closed his eyes at the taste of you, tongue slow and testing as he explored what areas brought the biggest reaction out from your lips. He was clearly a good kisser in more than one way because you felt like you were going to pass out just from the way his mouth moved, getting more eager the more comfortable he got.

Your hips rocked forward against his face as much as his grip allowed, searching for friction and finding it when his nose brushed against your sensitive clit. His mouth quickly followed, tongue working your bud and bringing noises out of you that you didn’t even know you were capable of.

“Feels so good.” You mewled and he groaned against you, sending another wave of pleasure and longing through you.

“It’s good princess?” He was breathing heavier from the lack of oxygen considering he hadn’t taken his mouth off of you since he got down there and you almost laughed at the sound of it. You weren’t sure if he was dirty talking or genuinely looking for reassurance but you nodded eagerly regardless, hands tangling back in his hair and pressing his face back between your legs.

“Make me cum.” You said the order softly, more of a plea than anything and he took it easily, practically making out with your cunt in his desperation to give you what you wanted. Jungkook was clearly a pleaser and you found it even more stupid nobody had jumped his bones yet, although a possessive flare surging through you every time you remembered you were his first.

You did a terrible job keeping quiet as he ate you out and you figured the rough way he was squeezing your thighs was meant to be reminders but you ignored him in favor of rolling your hips along with his mouth, biting your lip to keep from outwardly screaming when you realized you were about to cum.

Your grip in his hair tightened almost painfully and your breathing picked up, chest rising and falling in heavy pants as you got closer. Luckily Jungkook knew enough to not stop, pressing his tongue against your hole with his nose nudging your clit and bringing you to release so suddenly you felt dizzy.

“What the fuck?” You felt almost startled by how fast and intensely he made you finish and he slowed down, eyeing you curiously and almost looking like he was smiling. He kissed your thighs a few more times softly before he was coming back up on top of you.

You moaned when he was kissing you out of nowhere, not even slightly disgusted at the idea of tasting yourself and instead eagerly licking into his mouth.

“Wait.” You gasped into it and he barely slowed, only pausing to kiss the corners of your lips and let you speak. “What about you?”

Your hand was inching between your bodies to feel his hard length but you faltered when you felt the wet patch on his pants instead. His body tensed on top of yours and your eyes went back to his face, taking in his embarrassed expression and feeling a million different types of warmth rushing through you suddenly.

“Fuck.” He said in one breath, eyes shutting tight for a second like he was willing himself to disappear.

“That might be the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.” You said far too loud for the quiet barn and he looked at you like you were crazy, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks turning pink when he processed the dazed out look returning to your face. “You came in your pants from eating me out? Are you even real?”

He was frozen for a long few seconds with that same expression before he was pushing out a singular disbelieving laugh and resting his head on your shoulder. You giggled as he groaned into your hot skin, hand coming back up to his hair to pet it gently this time.

You didn’t move for a bit, kissing softly until the heat was beginning to feel too intense now that you didn’t have a mind numbing distraction.

“We have to do our chores.” You whispered against his lips and he sighed softly, knowing you were right.

He was gentle as he helped you stand up, sitting you back on a wood slate so he could pull your underwear backup and adjust your dress. His hands were smoothing through your hair to help control it, picking loose pieces of grass and straw as you watched his face.

The barn was quiet as you reached up to cup his face, pulling him in for another kiss and sighing softly when you felt him smiling.

“What are you doing to me?” You almost groaned as he pulled away again, tugging you off of the wood so you were standing in front of him. You were close enough for your chest to press together and you craned your neck to look up at him.

“It’s mutual.” He responded easily and you felt like you were really going crazy.

Luckily he had more sense than you and was backing up a few feet to pop the tension filled bubble and help keep you focused. It was almost impossible to watch him do chores now that you knew what was hidden under his shirt, and became familiar with those grunts in a different context.

You worked through the day together and kept your shy smiles and loaded glances to as much of a minimum as you could manage.

Supper was much more pleasant today and you felt like things were starting to really flow nicely around here, your heart feeling content as you and Nari joked around over the meal and the men listened with fond smiles.

Your gaze went to Jungkook for the hundredth time today and you found him already watching you, eyes bright and a smile on his face that you usually didn’t see at dinner time. He must have felt similarly to you about how good the day was because he didn’t look away, holding your eyes affectionately.

When you finally blushed and looked away, your line of sight landed on Minchuk and you froze.

He was staring at you with an expression of understanding, like he had just figured something out. His jaw tensed as he looked towards Jungkook and you felt red hot fear in your chest.

Jungkook had started conversing calmly with his mother and didn’t seem to notice the expression on either of your faces.

It wasn’t until your time to do the dishes that you even dared to look at him again, breathing a sigh of relief when he sunk against you for a hug.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, stretching on your tiptoes and burying your face in his neck as he circled his against your lower back. The fact it was overly sappy didn’t miss you but you couldn’t really care anymore, longing to be near him after any amount of time.

“I feel crazy.” His voice was slightly muffled by your hair and you smiled at the sound of it and the warm tone he only seemed to take when he spoke to you. “How did I miss you so bad when you are right here?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak without saying something even more ridiculous but he hopes he knows what you mean, what you want to shout into the quiet kitchen.

No, you aren't crazy. No you're not the only one feeling like this. No you don't understand it either.

You only see a glimpse of his eyes before you are kissing and you can’t even remember who started it, if you went on your tiptoes or if he bent down to your level to catch you in something so feverish it felt like you had gone a year apart. There was no way of knowing who backed your bodies up against the counter, whose hands explored the other's frame first and who decided completely abandoning the dishes was somehow a good idea.

The only thing you could pinpoint was the exact moment it ended and he was suddenly ripped from you in a way that was so jarring you felt your knees go weak like you were going to collapse without him.

It took you a few seconds to track his body, stumbled across the kitchen like he had gotten thrown. The icy expression on his face made you realize he had been, your eyes darting to Minchul standing only a few feet away with his chest puffed and his eyebrows pulled together in a way that made your mouth part in shock.

“What the hell do you think you are doing boy?” His voice was venomous and he made another move in Jungkook’s direction that had you covering your mouth, lips still wet from kissing him.

Jungkook didn’t move a muscle, not even slightly flinching or faltering his hardened expression. You wanted to shout at him that now was not the time to challenge his father, not after such a good day and certainly not over you. The look on his face told you that there was no point in trying to diffuse the situation, his shoulders squaring as he shifted his body defensively.

“Oh.” Minchul looked genuinely surprised under all the rage until a bitter laugh slipped out as he stared at Jungkook mockingly. “You’re tough ain't you. A real man now?”

“Minchul.” You said slowly, taking a step away from the counter and trying to put yourself in their peripheral vision. You had a light amount of hope that seeing you in the room might be enough to humble the angry man and also calm Jungkook down enough to at least hold this off. You had wondered if you should call out for Nari but you decided against it. “We.. we were just-”

“I know what you were doing.” He spat as he turned to look at you and the way he stared at you stole all of the hope from underneath you. It was the exact same way he looked at Jungkook and you knew that any effort he was putting into faking a charming persona was no longer applied to you.

“Watch it.” Jungkook was speaking for the first time and both of you snapped your gazes over to him.

His voice had never sounded like that and you felt a wave of fear run over you, not towards him necessarily but towards the outcome that would be caused by this level of anger coming from both of them. He clearly had no intention of pushing away his feelings and fauxing respect to get his dad off of his back, combative and aggressive now that you were being spoken down to.

“Y/N.” Minchul was speaking calm and slow but the way his glare never left Jungkook’s taut frame sent a shiver down your spine and your eyes widened. “Go outside honey.”

“I-” You went to object but he sent you another look that left no room for argument and you turned desperately to Jungkook. He was clenching his jaw and looking pained as he finally looked at you just long enough to give you a confirming nod. His face barely softened but it was noticeable to you, a silent act of reassurance that he would be okay.

You felt beneath yourself as you stumbled outside, not really sure what else to do with your body once you got out there. You got the strange urge to call your father even though he would never help you, even to call your mother who had been dead for most of your life.

Your brain was just searching desperately for solutions and even more so when you heard crashing from inside the house, tears springing to your eyes as you took a few more shaky steps away to try and put some distance between you and the grunts of anger and pain.

The sensible part of your brain noticed a light switching on upstairs as the volume increased, realizing Nari must have woken up and would most likely be rushing down to the kitchen and putting a stop to whatever was happening.

It was a power you clearly did not have and you felt so overwhelmingly useless.

You felt like you were outside for hours alone like that even though it was only a few breathless minutes before Jungkook was coming outside. He was walking fast and storming right past you, similarly to the way he had been the other week when Minchul brought out the belt on the porch.

“Jungkook.” You called out to him and your hands reached for his arm, heart clenching when you made brief contact before they were slipping off as he refused to stop. You started to chase after him without really thinking about it, needing to speak to him before you exploded. “Wait please.”

He whipped around at the crack in your voice and you faltered when you saw the blood on his lip and redness surrounding his eye and cheek. You were sure there were more marks you’d be able to pinpoint tomorrow and you were suddenly grateful for the moon lighting him up.

Your hands were coming up to cup his face instinctively as a wounded noise left you and he winced at the feeling of your hands on his injuries. Your mouth was opening and closing as you searched for the words to say, head shaking as you felt like you were about to cry or throw up or both.

“Did you know?” His voice was hoarse and your eyebrows automatically furrowed in confusion. It was asked softly but he scoffed at your expression and repeated it in a much harsher tone.

“Know what?” You almost begged, wanting so badly to understand him and be able to help in some way. You took a step closer and he looked pained by the action, your stomach turning at the way he avoided looking directly at you. “Did I know what Jungkook? What happened?”

He was quiet for a long time and you felt like the dirt underneath you was slipping away and finally waking you up from this dream you’d been living in. You half wanted to sink with it and wake up in your warm bed worlds away from here with vague visions of a beautiful cowboy and the other half was clawing at the collapsing ground and pleading for the dirt under your nails to stay until morning.

“Your dad owns the farm.” He said it so simply like it didn’t take the air out of your lungs and you shook your head, both in denial and confusion on what he was saying. His eyes were cold as he stared at you like he wasn’t sure if you were the enemy or not anymore. “He owns everything. You own everything.”

He emphasized the pronoun like he was trying to make it really clear to you that you played some type of role in this situation and you shifted away from him.

It suddenly made so much more sense to you, the way Minchul and your father interacted like they were forced to and the memories of coming here as a child feeling so foreign and locked away. How kind the Jeon’s had been to you and the pure fury towards you and Jungkook for getting involved, it was all a result of your father placing his polished shoe on another aspect of your life.

This time it wasn’t an apartment back in the city or your daily schedule, not even your name on the important document that locked you into the family business for life if anything tragic happened to him. Your father had managed to put his greedy hands on something you had deemed untouchable.

Jungkook had created a world for you that didn’t allow the bad stuff to exist, that blocked out every memory you had that was grey and cold. He had brought the sun to you and now you were learning your father had already staked his flag on its surface.

“What are you talking about?” You didn’t know what else to say and you could feel hot tears on your flamed cheeks now. You had never felt adrenaline like that, pure emotion and panic as your chest started to rise and fall quickly.

Jungkook was quiet as he watched you like he was conflicted about what to do. Once a particularly rough breath ran through your body he was softening his shoulders and gaze simultaneously, pulling you against his frame as you wracked with a heavy sob.

You hadn’t had a panic attack in years, since you were a teenager who could barely stand the sight of a crowded crosswalk or a presentation. There was no doubt in your mind that you would not be able to get out of the strong grip of it easily on your own and you sunk against him.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed and you pushed your face into his chest, muffling the strangled noise that left you. “Of course you didn’t know. I know you didn’t know.”

“I want to go home.” Is what you eventually breathed out even though you realized as soon as you said it that you weren’t sure what you were referring to. The thought of your apartment was only comforting until you remembered he didn’t even exist there and you sunk lower against him.

“We can go there.” He said back hurriedly like he had already considered that as an option. You felt terrible for not being in the state to talk to him properly, to ask him if he was okay and if he could face his father again. “I’ll take you, we can go home.”

You weren’t sure he knew what that meant to you but he was gently lowering you on the stairs and going back inside before you could tell him. His back was tense and you had half a mind to yell out for him to come back, to not go in and to stay with you where you could pretend you could keep him safe.

Instead of sitting there and feeling useless, you stood to your feet and chased after him.

He was already on his way back out and you bumped into each other, a startled sound leaving him as his hands reached out to grab your arms and steady you. You were still breathing heavily and now confused by how quickly he had returned, eyes going over his wide shoulders.

Nari was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a dim look on her face, stealing her of her usual warmth and soft glow. Minchul was nowhere to be seen but you could tell by the damage to the room that it had been a full blown scuffle between the two of them.

You felt devastated for her, knowing how much love and pride she held for her kitchen and the things she created. There were shattered plates and disarrayed decorations, a large hole in the wall that you had a bad feeling was created by Jungkook’s back. She met your eyes over his frame and you felt relief when she softened slightly at the sight of your swollen eyes and remorseful stare.

“Go on, honey.” She said in a voice so gentle it broke your heart, Jungkook’s hands tightening on your arms at the sound of it. “I’ll be alright here.”

He was shifting and you could hear the sound of the keys in his fingers now, only just feeling the cold metal pressing against your skin. You nodded swiftly at her and gave her one more heavy look that you hoped she would understand despite your lack of words, her smile in return making you believe she had.

Jungkook and you were quick to leave the house and you felt another sob go through you when he spared one last look towards the barn where Lucky and the other horses were most likely asleep for the night, knowing there was no certain timeline he would be able to see them again any time soon.

He was opening the passenger door for you and making a soft noise with his teeth to get your attention through your devastation, closing it softly once you were sitting on the bench seat.

You waited until he was sat and finished taking a few deep breaths, until you were squealing out of the driveway and pretending the light wasn't still on upstairs. Only after you were on the dirt road and heading towards uncertainty did you scoot over into the middle seat.

This time around you weren’t damp from the quarry water and your cheeks were not sore from smiling so hard you felt euphoric. There were no shy glances and no toeing the line between unlikely friends and something more. But there was the feeling of his hand wrapped around your knee like he was scared to forget you were there and the soft kisses you were laying on his bruised face as he drove.

Going back the same way you came but with your heart full of adoration and something much more real that you were too afraid to name just yet. You felt like your fantasy world was finally mixing into reality and the colors mixing with your cold gray was a lot less jarring knowing he was the one braving it all with you.

Jungkook released a soft breath when your head landed on his shoulder and you felt the weight of it all go with it.

#bts smut #bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts army #bts jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfiction #cowboy #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook angst #heesdreamer

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blayskook · 7 days ago

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TANGLED IN YOU

Pairing = lovingbf!jungkook + shy!reader

Summary = After a warm, quiet shower together, Jungkook carries her to bed with soft kisses and sleepy giggles. Wrapped in blankets and each other, they cuddle close, whisper sweet nothings, and fall asleep tangled up in love. It’s pure, gentle, and full of that soft kind of affection you never forget.

A/N = hii this is my first work for jungkook, if you're interested in more please interact!!! I'm super new here and I'd appreciate your feedbacks so much:)

The bathroom was still warm and foggy, but you’d both finished showering. A quiet, pure moment filled with little giggles and soft “sorry”s when you bumped into each other in the tight space. Now you were sitting on the closed toilet lid, bathrobe wrapped around you, and Jungkook came in front of you, towel low on his hips, still dripping.

"Here you go, pretty" he lends you the matching pjs, before turning around to wear his own.

Once your both fully dressed, looking like the best couple out there in matching pjs, he sat you down on the toilet lid again, patting your hair dry with the softest little frown of focus.

“You’re not doing it right,” you laughed, leaning away a little.

“Yes, I am,” he whined, scooting closer on his knees, tugging you gently back toward him. “Stay still, I’m helping.”

“You’re messing my hair up baby.” You whine, gently holding onto his arms. "Fine fine.." he puts the towel behind you, his head now resting on your thigh.

His arms circled your waist a second later, cheek pressing softly against your belly. He mumbles a soft “You’re warm.”

You laughed, carding your fingers through his damp hair. “You’re clingy.”

“I know,” he said, voice muffled in your skin. “Let me.”

He stayed like that for a moment, hugging you like it grounded him, like if he let go you’d vanish. Then he stood up slowly, pulling you by the hands.

“C’mere,” he whispered.

He helped you up, then carefully lifted you onto the counter like it was a routine he never wanted to end. His hands never left your sides, thumbs brushing your waist through your soft pink shirt. He was looking at you like you hung the stars.

“Why are you staring?” you whispered, shy all over again.

“Because you’re so pretty like this,” he said softly. “All soft and sleepy and warm.”

You covered your face, trying not to let your giggles get too loud.

But he just leaned in anyway, resting his forehead against yours, completely content being chest-to-chest like this. “Don’t hide,” he whispered. “You’re the cutest when you’re like this. I love you like this.”

His lips ghosted across your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck. Not rushed. Just needy. Not desperate. Just close. His arms wrapped tight around you, pulling you closer like he couldn’t stand even a few inches of space.

You felt his voice rumble softly against your skin. “I just wanna stay here. Like this. All night.”

You giggled again, heart pounding in your chest. “You’re so clingy.”

He nodded cutely. “I don’t care. I missed you all day.”

And when you looked at him, wide-eyed and breathless, he smiled. Not cocky. Not teasing. Just so in love he couldn’t hide it anymore.

“Can I hold you closer?” he whispered.

You didn’t answer with words, just wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in like you wanted the same thing.

He leaned in and slowly kissed you. Not deep, not rushed, just soft and slow. His hands stayed gentle on your waist, fingertips warm against you, as if he didn’t want to ruin the moment by moving too fast.

When he finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. His nose brushed yours. “Wanna get in bed?”

You nodded, too shy to say anything, heart fluttering all the way up your throat.

He didn’t wait. Just smiled to himself — that sleepy, sweet smile — and dipped his arms under your knees and back in one smooth motion, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all.

“Jungkook-!” you giggled into his neck, clinging to his shoulders. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“I want to.” he said simply, and you felt his voice rumble against your cheek. “You feel nice.”

The room was dim now, the lights soft and golden. He walked slowly toward the bed, like he didn’t want to drop even a second of this. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the damp strands of his hair brushing against your temple. He smelled like clean soap and something uniquely him. Comforting, sweet, like home.

When he finally set you down on the bed, it was gentle. Careful. Like placing something fragile. He climbed in right after you, pulling the covers over both of you, then immediately tugging you close again like he couldn’t bear the distance.

You ended up half on his chest, one leg tangled over his, your face tucked beneath his chin. His arm was under your head, cradling you like a pillow, while his other hand found your lower back and rested there — warm, steady, and completely wrapped around you.

Neither of you spoke for a second.

He was so close, you could hear his heartbeat.

“Are you comfy?” he asked quietly, voice already dipped in sleep.

“Mmhm” you whispered. “You’re warm.”

He smiled into your hair. “You’re perfect.”

You giggled, hiding your face in his collarbone. “Stop…”

But he didn’t. He kissed your forehead next, then your temple, then your cheek, one after another like he couldn’t stop. “I just love you,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin between every word. “I really, really love you.”

You laughed softly, nose wrinkling as he kissed the tip of it.

“I love you too. You're my favourite human ever” you whispered back, your voice sleepy and warm.

He hummed happily, then pulled you impossibly closer, like he was scared the night might steal you away. His hand rubbed soft circles into your back beneath the blanket, his breath slow and even near your ear.

"I wish I could keep you here forever" he looked down at you, placing a kiss on your nose. "I am staying here forever, I don't know what you're talking about" you giggle and move your face close enough to peck his lips.

"You're being so adorable on purpose right..?" He squints his eyes, leaning in for a kiss again, while you giggle at his teasing tone.

Then everything felt quiet. Safe. Like the world had faded out and it was just you two in this tiny universe of soft skin, tangled legs, and whispered love.

Then, right before sleep claimed him, he pressed one more kiss into your hair and whispered, “Goodnight, baby.”

You smiled against his chest, heart full to the brim.

“Goodnight, Koo.”

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littlegochu · 2 months ago

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hold me tight │ jjk 18+

"I never stopped loving you."

Trigger Warning: This story contains emotional and physical abuse. (Jungkook is not the abuser btw)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: exes to lovers

rating: 18+, fluff w smut.

synopsis: Y/N is untouchable, his dare: "Make her fall in love with you."

Two years ago, Y/N was just a dare—a game Jungkook never meant to take seriously. But somewhere between the laughter, late nights, and whispered promises, he fell. Hard. Then the truth came out, and everything shattered.

Now, Y/N is a single mother trying to rebuild her life when fate throws Jungkook back into her world. He’s changed. Older. Steadier. But the past still burns between them. As secrets unravel and emotions resurface, they’re forced to face everything they tried to leave behind.

Some wounds run deep. But some loves never die.

“Maybe,” you start, voice light and sweet, “the reservation can wait.”

You round the corner into the bedroom, heels in hand, lips slightly parted at the sight in front of you.

Black dress shirt. Sleeves rolled just enough to show off the tattoos. Silver watch, subtle chain. Hair pushed back perfectly like he didn’t even try.

He glances up from the mirror.

Smirks.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, walking over, eyeing your dress like he wants to ruin it.

You loop your arms around his neck lazily, standing on your toes. “You just look so good, baby. It feels wrong to let anyone else see you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles, low and rough, hands finding your hips like instinct.

“Pretty sure you’ve seen me look better.”

You pout. “Not recently.”

His brow lifts. “That right?”

Before you can answer, he hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts you like you weigh nothing, setting you down on the kitchen counter with a grunt of satisfaction.

Your breath catches.

He steps between your legs, crowding your space, lips ghosting over yours.

“We have all day, baby,” he murmurs, voice a little rough. “I’m all yours.”

You fake a whine. “You’re teasing.”

He grins, kisses your cheek, your jaw, then finally your lips. “Maybe.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper into his mouth: “Ten minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to grin. “Dinner first. Then I’ll give you all the time you want.”

The sunset hits just right — golden and warm, spilling over the skyline like it’s bending just for you. String lights sway gently above your heads, casting soft glows on silverware and champagne flutes. The city buzzes somewhere below, muffled by height and distance, replaced by the quiet clink of plates and the lull of soft jazz floating through the speakers.

Sitting in Le Morte— the restaurant his parents gave to him on his 21st birthday. The same restaurant where he asked you to be his girlfriend, the same tiny restaurant you both promised his parents to build up to success. Now, it's a beautiful restaurant sitting at the top of the tallest towers in South Korea.

You sit across from Jungkook, candlelight flickering between you, and he looks—

God. He looks unreal.

Black dress shirt, sleeves rolled, collar loose. Gold chain sitting just at the base of his throat. One arm draped casually over the back of his chair, the other lazily stirring the ice in his drink like he has all the time in the world.

But his eyes are locked on you.

The whole time.

Not just glancing. Not just admiring. Watching you like he’s soaking in every second. Like he’s trying to memorize the way your lip gloss catches the light, or how you tuck your hair behind your ear when you laugh too hard.

“Stop,” you murmur, cheeks warm from the wine. “You’re staring.”

His smile is crooked. Intimate. Like it’s just for you.

“Let me,” he says softly. “Might not get to do it like this again.”

You blink. “What does that mean?”

He leans forward, resting his elbow on the table, fingers rubbing gently at the base of his glass. The sunset behind him catches the glint of something silver in his palm.

A small box.

Your breath stops.

You freeze.

He stands up.

“I was gonna wait until dessert,” he says, voice low but certain. “But I can’t. Not when you look like this. Not when I’ve been carrying this for months.”

The world quiets.

He drops to one knee.

Your heart stumbles.

“You’re it for me,” he says. “Even when I’m loud. Even when I’m wrong. Even when I piss you off and leave dishes in the sink. I want you. I want lazy mornings and midnight drives and grocery trips with a shared cart and matching house keys.”

Your eyes are already burning.

“So marry me. Let me wake up next to you for the rest of my life. Let me be yours, fully, finally, forever.”

He opens the box.

A silver ring. Simple. Elegant. Yours.

You cover your mouth, tears slipping before you can stop them. And your voice shakes as you whisper, “Yes.”

He lets out a breathy laugh like he was holding it in for hours.

You stand. He grabs your waist and pulls you into him — tight, full-body, arms around you like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he lets go.

He kisses you.

Slow. Certain. Familiar.

And when you pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you smiling through tears.

“Told you I’d give you forever,” he whispers.

You barely make it through the front door before he’s on you.

The ring is still snug on your finger, your heels are kicked off, and he’s kissing you like the air in his lungs depends on you.

Your back hits the wall. His hands are everywhere — one at your waist, one sliding up your thigh, slow and sure and possessive like he’s already memorized every inch.

But it’s not rushed. It’s not messy. It’s deliberate.

His lips brush your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, thumb tracing the line of your lower lip.

You whisper, “You’re shaking.”

He swallows hard. Smiles, a little unsteady.

“I’m in love. Give me a break.”

You reach for him — fingertips curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.

And he lets you.

Lets you tug him down. Onto the couch. Into you.

He kisses you like a prayer, like a secret, like a man terrified and overwhelmed and deeply, undeniably yours.

His hands are slow.

His mouth is reverent.

Every inch he touches feels claimed, branded, held.

“Say it again,” he whispers as his nose grazes your collarbone.

“What?”

“That you’re mine.”

Your voice breaks against his shoulder. “I’m yours.”

And he breathes out the quietest, most broken “Good.”

His lips press into the crook of your neck, soft at first, barely there — like he's grounding himself. Like he needs to feel you just to believe you're real. His breath is warm, shaky against your skin. You can feel the smile in it. The ache, too.

You exhale slowly, hand threading through the hair at the back of his neck, fingertips brushing the undercut.

He kisses your collarbone. Then again. And again. Slower. Lower.

Your dress slips off one shoulder. His mouth follows the exposed skin like it’s his path home. His hands — warm, steady — trace your hips like he’s reminding himself you said yes.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, lips brushing over the top of your chest. “No idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You laugh softly, breath catching. “You already have me.”

He leans back just enough to look at you — really look — and the way he stares makes you forget how to breathe.

Like you’re the only thing he’s ever believed in.

His thumb grazes your jaw, then your bottom lip, slow and reverent.

“I know. That’s what scares me.”

Before you can ask what he means, his mouth is on yours again — deeper this time, hungry but restrained, like he’s savoring it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open for him instinctively, your body already arching into him like it knows its place.

He lifts you without warning, hands gripping the backs of your thighs, walking you toward the bedroom like he’s done it a hundred times — but tonight it feels different.

Charged. Worshipful. Final, somehow.

He lays you down like you're made of glass.

Then he follows.

His weight settles between your legs, but it’s not heavy — it’s perfect. Warm. Familiar.

His kisses slow. Dragging. Like he wants to memorize how you taste.

You feel his hand slide down your side, slipping under your dress, skimming the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches.

You shake your head, voice breathy. “Don’t stop.”

“Yeah?” His eyes darken. “You want me to take my time with you?”

You nod.

And he does.

The dress comes off inch by inch — not rushed, not desperate. Like unwrapping something sacred. His eyes never leave you, like if he blinks, he’ll lose you.

Your back arches when his mouth moves lower, slow kisses across your chest, your ribs, the dip of your stomach. His hands are warm and sure, holding your waist, smoothing over your skin like he’s trying to learn every inch by feel.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, voice almost shaky. “You always have been.”

Your chest clenches. Because the way he says it—so full of awe, of devotion—it sounds like he’s been waiting his whole life just to tell you.

And when he finally sinks into you, it’s not rushed. It’s slow. Deep. Everything.

You cling to him — arms around his shoulders, nails lightly digging into his back, legs wrapped tight around his waist — because it feels too good. Too full. Too much.

He moans into your neck, low and guttural, breath hot against your skin.

“This… you… this is it for me,” he murmurs, hips rolling deeper, like he can’t get close enough.

Your eyes blur. Your fingers tangle in his hair. You whisper his name like it’s a prayer.

Every stroke is steady. Intimate. The rhythm building slow, like he's not just trying to make you come—he’s trying to mark you. Remember you.

And when it finally crests—when you cry out and he groans your name like it’s carved into his lungs—he holds you through it.

Shaking. Pressing kisses to your cheek. Your jaw. The corner of your mouth.

He doesn’t move for a long time. Just breathes.

His forehead stays pressed to yours, his hand softly stroking your side.

“I love you, my wife.” he whispers.

“We’re done.”

You don’t yell. You don’t have to.

The silence between you and Jungkook splits open the second the words leave your mouth.

“We’re fucking done.”

He’s frozen where he stands — barefoot, sweatpants low on his hips, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows. He just got out of the shower. His hair’s still damp, clinging to his forehead. He looks… normal. Relaxed.

Like he’s not about to lose everything.

Like he has no fucking clue.

Your hand is trembling as you hold your phone out, the screen still glowing. His name is highlighted in the thread of messages, half-jokes and ego and the kind of careless boyish cruelty you never thought could come from him.

[Taehyung]: “Yo, you actually gonna do it?” [Jungkook]: “Already started. She’s cute. This’ll be easy.” [Namjoon]: “Bet you 200 she falls for you first.” [Jungkook]: “Watch me make her say I love you.”

Your voice trembles. “How long?”

He doesn’t answer.

You swallow, hard. “How long were they laughing at me?”

He takes a step forward and you step back, heart racing, breath caught.

“Y/N,” he says, quietly. “I can explain—”

“No. Don’t.” Your throat tightens so suddenly it almost chokes you. “You don’t get to look at me like that right now.”

He blinks like he’s been slapped.

“I wore your ring for two months,” you whisper. “Two months I’ve been waking up beside you, loving you, planning forever with you—while your friends texted you behind my back, congratulating you for playing me.”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“Then what was it?” The crack in your voice finally splits open. “What the fuck was I to you, Jungkook? Some prize? A challenge?”

He flinches like it physically hurts.

“It started as a dare, we were young,” he says, voice low, ashamed. “I was drunk. It was stupid. But the second I actually got to know you—”

“Stop.”

“—I fell so fucking hard, Y/N.”

“Stop.” Your eyes sting, but you refuse to cry in front of him. “Don’t stand there and feed me that now. Not when the only reason you ever spoke to me was because someone dared you to.”

He looks like he’s falling apart.

You wonder if he feels it the way you do—like the air’s been punched out of your lungs. Like your body’s full of splinters, breaking from the inside out.

“You were never a bet to me,” he says softly. “Not once I knew you.”

You almost laugh. It comes out broken.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

He opens his mouth.

Closes it.

You take a shaky step back, the ring suddenly burning on your finger.

“You had so many chances, Jungkook. We dated for two fucking years, you proposed two months ago. You could’ve told me after our first date. After the first time we slept together. After the night you held me when I cried about my mom. You could’ve told me before you proposed.”

“I was scared,” he admits, voice breaking. “I knew I’d lose you.”

“Good.”

His eyes lift to yours—glassy, wounded.

You don’t care.

“I trusted you,” you whisper. “With everything. My body, my heart, my life. And you… you humiliated me.”

His breathing hitches. His hand twitches like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. Can’t.

“You’re not who I thought you were.”

“I am,” he says quickly. “I am. You know me better than anyone—”

“No, Jungkook.” You shake your head, blinking back tears. “I knew the version of you you let me see. I never knew this.”

Silence stretches between you, unbearable and sharp.

You slide the ring off your finger. Slowly. Like peeling off a layer of skin.

His eyes drop to your hand.

“No,” he breathes. “Don’t—”

You step forward. Place the ring on the counter. Not thrown. Not dramatic. Just... final.

“I was going to marry you,” you whisper. “I wanted to build a life with you.”

Tears slip down your cheek. You don’t wipe them.

“I would’ve given you everything.”

Jungkook’s voice is raw when he speaks. “You still can.”

You shake your head once, then again. Firmer.

“I’ll never know what was real,” you say. “I’ll never know if you looked at me like that because you loved me—or because you knew you’d already won.”

He breaks then.

Takes a step forward like he can’t stay still anymore, his voice cracking open.

“You were never a game to me.”

“But I was a joke to you once,” you whisper. “And that’s enough.”

His face crumples. “Please don’t leave.”

“I already did.”

You grab your bag. Sling it over your shoulder.

His feet move before he can stop himself. “Y/N, please. Baby—”

“Don’t call me that.”

He freezes.

You reach for the doorknob with trembling hands.

And then—because you can’t help it—you turn back one last time.

He looks ruined.

Hands limp at his sides. Eyes red. Chest rising too fast like he’s barely breathing.

He whispers your name like it’s the last thing he has.

You whisper back, barely audible—

“Goodbye.”

Then you walk out.

And this time… he doesn’t follow. Because he knows he lost you the second he lied.

[2 years later]

It’s warm inside the café.

Not the cloying kind—just soft. Familiar. The kind that seeps into your bones and tells your chest to stop bracing so hard. The kind of warm that smells like cinnamon and vanilla, where the hum of espresso machines mixes with quiet music and the occasional clink of mugs.

You’re sitting at a window table, one hand wrapped around a latte, the other steadying Jiho as he bounces lightly in your lap. He’s sticky with syrup and joy, a piece of pancake still clutched in one tiny fist. His laughter bubbles up when your boyfriend leans in and makes a quiet, ridiculous face just for him.

And you laugh too. Soft. Full. Real.

Your boyfriend has been good to you. Patient, steady, kind. He doesn’t push. He never tried to fill shoes that weren’t his to wear. He just showed up and stayed. And when you finally let him in, he didn’t treat your past like baggage. He treated it like part of the road that led you here.

So yeah, mornings like this? They feel okay. Safe.

Until the bell above the door rings.

You hear it, but you don’t look up right away. You’re busy wiping syrup off Jiho’s chin with a napkin, murmuring a quiet, “Hold still, baby,” while he wriggles.

And then you feel it.

Not just a presence. A rupture.

Your breath catches before you even know why.

You glance up.

And everything stops.

Jungkook walks into the café like a memory you weren’t ready for.

He’s with Taehyung. Laughing at something he says. But the moment he sees you, his body goes still. His expression falls apart in real time. And then his eyes drop—to Jiho.

To your son.

His son.

You feel the air punch out of your lungs.

He looks older. Bulkier. His hair is longer now, a little curl tucked behind his ear. He wears a dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up, exposing familiar tattoos that used to trace your skin. He looks…

Ruined. But whole in a new way. A version of him you don’t recognize. One that never held your hand in the middle of the night or whispered promises against your spine.

“You okay?” your boyfriend asks, his voice cutting softly through the tension.

You don’t answer at first.

Jungkook is still staring. At Jiho. Then at you. And there’s something in his expression that’s not shock anymore.

It’s betrayal.

“He’s getting fussy,” you murmur, eyes still fixed on Jungkook. “Can you take him to the car? I’ll just run to the bathroom and meet you there.”

Your boyfriend nods without hesitation, presses a kiss to your temple, and lifts Jiho easily into his arms. Jiho yawns and rests his head on his shoulder, thumb slipping into his mouth.

You can feel Jungkook’s stare as they leave.

You rise. Walk past him without looking.

The bathroom is down a narrow hall, dimly lit. You lock the door behind you and grip the sink until your knuckles ache.

You breathe.

In.

Out.

You rinse your hands slowly, as if that could wash off the past year.

And when you open the door—he’s there.

"Cheater." Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

“You were mad at me this whole time,” Jungkook says, low and cold, “but you were out here carrying some other guy’s fucking baby?”

Your heart twists.

He laughs, humorless. “That’s rich, Y/N. You didn’t want me, but you moved on just fine, didn’t you?”

You stare at him. Silent.

The hallway feels like it’s shrinking.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t think I deserved to know?”

“Did I deserve to be a bet?”

That shuts him up.

You shake your head, eyes burning.

“I was pregnant when I left,” you whisper. “I didn’t even know it yet. I found out alone. I stayed alone. I gave birth alone. I raised him—your son—alone.”

Jungkook goes pale.

He looks stunned. Pale. A man watching the earth split under his feet.

His mouth opens once. Then closes.

“Y/N…”

You step back.

“And yeah, I moved on,” you breathe. “Because I had to. Because loving you almost destroyed me. Because trusting you did destroy me.”

His hands shake. His chest rises like it hurts to breathe.

“I would’ve been there.”

“Would you?” you whisper. “You lied every day for months, Jungkook. I don’t know what part of you was ever real.”

He swallows, eyes desperate now. “All of it. I loved you. I still—”

You cut him off with a cold laugh. Final. Solid. Unforgiving.

“Then you should’ve fought harder.”

There’s silence. Dense. Trembling.

“His name is Jiho,” you say flatly. “He’s brilliant. He has a real dad now. Someone who shows up, every day, no matter what. Someone who didn’t need to be biologically connected to love him better than you ever could.”

Jungkook flinches.

You feel nothing.

You take a step closer, voice low and sharp.

“You want a role in his life?”

He nods slowly. Hope flickers behind his eyes.

You smile.

It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Too fucking bad.”

And then you walk.

You don’t look back.

Let him break.

Let him wonder.

Let him live with what he lost.

Because you have a son.

And a man who never made your love a game.

And a life you built from the ashes he left behind.

[jungkook pov]

Jungkook doesn’t remember how many shots it takes before the guilt finally numbs.

He doesn’t feel the booth beneath him or the sticky table under his forearms. Just the pressure in his throat—the kind that burns more than the liquor. The kind that doesn’t let go.

“She said his name is Jiho.”

His voice is rough. Slurred, but not from the alcohol. From everything else.

“He’s brilliant. Got a smart mouth. Big eyes. My fucking eyes.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything. He just watches him from across the table, jaw tight.

“She didn’t need to say it,” Jungkook mutters. “I knew the second I looked at him. That’s my kid.”

Yoongi leans back in his seat, arms crossed. Hoseok twirls his empty glass, saying nothing.

“She told me he has a real dad now.” Jungkook laughs, but it’s hollow. “Said he shows up. Loves him better than I ever could. Said he doesn’t need to be blood to be his father.”

The table goes quiet. No one meets his eyes.

“She meant it,” Jungkook breathes. “Every word.”

Taehyung finally speaks. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Anger. Screaming. Anything but that fucking smile she gave him.”

Jungkook rubs his hands over his face, then through his hair, like he’s trying to scrub the memory off his skin.

“She looked happy. Safe. Not because of me. In spite of me.”

“You hurt her,” Hoseok says, careful but blunt. “You don’t get to be surprised she moved on.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook snaps. “I’m not surprised. I’m—” He stops, breath catching.

“I’m destroyed.”

The word hangs there. Honest. Raw.

Yoongi taps a finger on the table. “You said you didn’t know she was pregnant.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook growls. “I didn’t fucking know. If I did—God—do you think I would've let her go? Let her raise him alone?”

Taehyung’s voice is low. “Doesn’t change what you did before.”

Jungkook looks up slowly. “I never meant to fall in love with her.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters. “That’s kind of the problem.”

The silence turns heavier.

“She's a mom now,” Taehyung finally says. “And you? You’re the guy who made her a dare.”

Jungkook flinches.

“No mother worth a damn is gonna risk her child’s safety—or her own peace—on a man who turned her love into a joke.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispers.

“You say you want to be there for Jiho,” Hoseok says, “but you’re not the one who decides anymore. She does.”

“I’m not trying to take him,” Jungkook says hoarsely. “I just—I want to know him. I want him to know me.”

“He has a dad,” Taehyung says gently but firmly. “The one who stayed.”

Jungkook exhales sharply. His head drops into his hands.

“She said I couldn’t love him better. And maybe she’s right. Maybe I don’t deserve the chance.”

No one replies.

“I just want to try.”

The words leave him in a whisper. Barely there. But the silence that follows feels deafening.

No one answers.

Taehyung just stares at him like he’s already bracing for impact.

And maybe Jungkook was hoping for something—anything—a crack of sympathy, a nod, a sign that someone still believed in him. That he wasn’t completely fucking ruined.

But there’s nothing.

Only the echo of his own voice, pathetic and hollow.

And that’s what finally makes him snap.

He shoves the chair back so hard it topples. Kicks it across the floor without thinking. Glass clinks and shatters as a bottle rolls off the table and explodes near the wall. Hoseok jolts up, trying to steady him, but Jungkook shoves him off with a harsh, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

His breathing turns ragged, chest heaving as he grips the edge of the booth like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“She didn’t even give me a chance,” he spits, venom coating every word. “She just looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was the fucking villain.”

“Jungkook—” Taehyung tries, but he’s not listening.

“She never even told me. She made that choice for me. Took him away from me before I even knew he existed.”

He pounds his fist into the table—once, twice—until his knuckles split open. Blood pools against the cracked wood. He doesn’t even flinch.

Yoongi stands up slowly. “You’re scaring people.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jungkook growls. “I’m already a ghost in my own life. What’s one more mess?”

Taehyung’s voice is quiet but firm. “You’re not helping anyone like this. Least of all yourself.”

“I wasn’t trying to help myself!” Jungkook shouts, eyes wild. “I just wanted to try. I wanted to be something—to someone. To him.”

He sways slightly, blood dripping down his hand, but he doesn’t notice. His eyes are glassy now, somewhere between fury and devastation.

“I didn’t ask to fall in love with her. I didn’t ask to lose her. But I did. And I lost him too.”

He finally sinks back into the booth, shoulders sagging like the fight’s drained out of him all at once.

“I’m not asking her to forgive me,” he whispers. “But she doesn’t get to erase me either. That’s my son.”

Nobody speaks.

The bar is quiet around them. Tense. Distant music playing beneath the weight of everything unspoken.

Taehyung finally breaks the silence.

“You’re bleeding.”

Jungkook looks down at his hand, broken skin and bruised knuckles.

He just laughs.

It’s almost midnight.

The apartment is still—blanketed in that soft kind of silence that only exists when the world’s asleep. Jiho is down for the night, his tiny breaths steady through the baby monitor on the table. The lights are low. My tea’s cold. Cassi’s face lights up the screen of my laptop, her voice a soothing constant in the quiet.

“So this girl—hand to God—she told her man, ‘If he wanted to, he would.’ And then this man shows up outside her job with a damn sign.”

I laugh into my cup. “A sign?”

“A literal cardboard sign. In public.”

“Okay, fine. That’s cute.”

"Hm, you have that look again."

"What look?"

“The one where you pretend you’re not thinking about him.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not.”

“Sure,” she drawls, then leans closer to the camera. “Bet he’s still hot. I wonder if he’s single.”

I laugh. “Wanna stalk him?”

“Don’t tempt me.” Her fingers are already moving. “What was his full @ again?”

I try to hide my grin. “You’re horrible.”

“Got him,” she says triumphantly. A second later, a notification pops up. Cassi’s just sent me his profile.

I don’t open it.

Not yet.

Instead, I lean back, feeling the air shift. That weird, aching weight that creeps in when you let a memory hang too long.

Cassi notices. “Hey,” she says gently. “You okay?”

Before I can answer, the door opens.

The lock clicks.

I freeze. Cassi’s expression sharpens. “Is that him?”

I nod and quickly end the call. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The apartment door creaks open. Han steps inside—jacket askew, smelling like beer and sweat and the kind of cheap cologne that clings to your skin for hours. His smile is crooked, lazy. A little drunk.

“Baby,” he calls out, dropping his keys to the counter, “you’re still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He stumbles over and drops onto the couch beside me, pulling me into his lap without waiting. He’s clingy—hands all over me, breath hot against my neck.

“I missed you tonight,” he says, lips grazing my cheek. “Was thinking about you the whole time.”

“You smell like beer.”

“I had a few.”

His fingers start trailing down my side. I pull away.

“Han, Jiho’s sleeping.”

“Let him sleep. I want you.”

“I’m tired.”

He stills. Then pulls back slightly to glance at the screen I didn’t have time to close. The Google tab is open again.

His eyes narrow.

“What’s this?”

I move to shut the laptop, but he snatches it first. Reads the screen.

His voice sharpens. “You’re looking up his shit?”

“It was nothing.”

“You miss him?”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

He stands abruptly, sending the laptop sliding off the couch.

“I go out for a few drinks and come home to this? You—still thinking about that fucker who left you?”

I rise to my feet. “Han, you’re drunk.”

He steps closer. “You want him again? That it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

“No, I’m not—”

He grabs my wrist hard.

“You were mine,” he growls. “I took care of you. Took care of your kid. And you’re still out here googling your ex like some pathetic little girl.”

“Han,” I whisper. “Let go.”

But he doesn’t. His grip tightens.

And then he slaps me.

Hard.

The sound cracks through the room.

My head jerks sideways. My cheek stings. My ears ring.

I freeze.

He doesn’t.

He lunges again, fists balled, grabbing my shoulders now, shaking me like I’m the problem. Like I’m the one who ruined him.

“You ungrateful bitch,” he snarls. “I fed him. I stayed. And you still look at me like I’m not good enough.”

I cry out as his knuckles graze my collarbone.

“Please—stop—”

But he won’t.

He doesn’t even hesitate this time.

I shove him back with everything in me and sprint for Jiho’s room.

My heart is slamming in my chest.

I grab Jiho—still half asleep, clinging to my shirt—and the baby monitor. I don’t even grab shoes.

Han’s shouting behind me, but I don’t listen. I don’t stop.

I bolt.

Out the door.

Down the stairs.

Into the night.

It’s almost 2 a.m.

I’m sitting on a metal bench outside a shuttered pharmacy, cold biting through the thin fabric of Jiho’s blanket, my coat, my skin—everything.

He won’t stop crying.

His little hands keep clawing at my chest, his body trembling as I hold him tighter and tighter, whispering, “I know, baby, I know,” even though nothing I do is helping.

He’s cold.

I’m cold.

And everything is closed.

I tried every door. The gas station. The diner. Even knocked on the back entrance of a convenience store until my hands went numb.

No one answered.

I pull him tighter into my chest. Try to rub warmth into his back, over and over, like friction and desperation will be enough to make him stop shaking.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, rocking him slightly, even though I know it’s not enough. “I didn’t mean to bring you out here. I didn’t mean for any of this—”

My voice cracks before I can finish.

Jiho’s sobs aren’t the loud kind. They’re tired, hoarse, hiccupping. The kind that gut you. The kind that sound like trust breaking down.

And I’m failing him.

I’m failing my baby.

I try not to cry. I really do. But my eyes are stinging so hard I can’t see, and my throat’s so tight I can’t breathe.

I press my lips to his forehead. He’s too cold. His skin is damp with sweat and tears.

“Please stop crying,” I whisper, like begging him will undo everything. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know where to go.

Everyone I thought I could call—Cassi, gone. My old neighbor, asleep. Family? Not an option. I burned that bridge when I chose Han. I told myself I could fix him. I told myself Jiho would never see the worst of him.

I lied.

I bounce Jiho lightly in my arms, trying to calm him down even though I’m shaking just as badly.

He coughs once. Shudders again.

Something cracks inside me.

I pull out my phone. My hands are shaking so badly I nearly drop it. I scroll. Scroll again. I open every app like something magic might be waiting there—someone, anyone—who could help.

But there’s no one.

And then… I don’t know why I think of it. I just do.

That stupid restaurant name. Le Morte.

The place he made me promise we’d build together.

My thumb hovers over the browser.

I shouldn’t.

I swore I’d never give him another chance to hurt me.

But Jiho’s still crying. His whole body trembling against mine.

And I have nothing left.

I type the name.

The website loads. I don’t read it. I just find the number.

I hit “Call.”

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I almost hang up.

Then—

“Le Morte.”

His voice is deeper than I remember. Quieter. But still him. Still Jungkook.

I don’t say anything.

"Hello?" A pause. A faint inhale. Then again, softer this time— "...Hello?" The sound of his voice breaks something open.

My throat caves in on itself. I try to speak, but all that comes out is a choke—sharp, ugly, aching.

I press the phone tighter to my ear, like that could steady my hands, like that could hold me up.

Another gasp escapes me. “I… I don’t…”

“Y/N?” His voice shifts. Urgent. Gentle. “Is that you?”

"Bab—" He stops himself. Breathes out slow. Then, careful and quiet: “Y/N, I need you to breathe. Just breathe for me, okay? I can’t help if I can’t understand you. Please—just tell me where you are.”

I blink, but everything’s a blur—wet and trembling and spinning. Jiho’s still crying against me, his little sobs going straight through my chest like wire.

“I don’t know—” My voice breaks. “I didn’t know who else to call. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Hey. Hey, stop.”

His tone softens again, that low warmth I haven’t heard in two years, like balm against an open wound. “I’m glad you called me. It’s okay, I promise it’s okay. Just tell me where you are. Anything you see around you. Anything, Y/N.”

I look around wildly, heart clawing at my ribs. “Pharmacy. Near… near the intersection by the overpass, across from—there’s a bus stop. Metal bench. I—he’s so cold, Jungkook. He won’t stop crying and I didn’t mean to bring him out I just—”

“Okay. Okay, I know where that is. That’s enough. I’m coming. Right now. Don’t hang up, alright?”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Okay.”

“I want you to hold Jiho just like you are. Keep your cheek against his. I’m getting in my car now. I’ll talk to you the whole way.”

His voice is quieter now. Thicker.

“I’ll be there soon. Just hold on for me. Please.”

And for the first time in hours—maybe longer—I let myself cry. Really cry. The kind that comes from somewhere deep. Not panic. Not frustration.

Just grief.

Because despite everything—despite the hurt, the betrayal, the years apart—I still remember what it felt like to be safe in his voice.

The headlights cut through the dark like a promise.

I hear the tires before I see them—skidding slightly on wet pavement as the car pulls up to the curb. The engine dies, and the world goes quiet again except for Jiho’s whimpers, quieter now, fading into hiccups against my chest.

The door swings open.

Footsteps.

He’s still in his suit.

The one from Le Morte. Midnight black, sleek lapels catching what little light bleeds from the streetlamp above. His tie’s undone. Hair slightly windblown like he ran the second he got my call.

He doesn’t say anything.

Not at first.

Just stands there for a beat, eyes scanning me—Jiho pressed into my chest, my tear-streaked face, the way I’m shaking like my whole body’s trying to hold back a scream.

Then he moves.

His steps are fast but careful, like he’s afraid if he startles me, I’ll vanish.

He shrugs off the suit jacket and drops to his knees in front of us.

He drapes the coat around Jiho’s small frame, then pulls it over my shoulders too, like he’s trying to shield both of us at once. His hands linger there for a moment. Warm. Steady. Familiar.

My body caves forward.

I don’t mean to. I don’t even think. I just fold into him, and he catches us like he never stopped being mine.

I sob into his shoulder. Gasping, messy, completely undone.

Jiho clings tighter to me, still crying, but quieter now—like he knows something’s shifted.

Jungkook wraps his arms around both of us.

He doesn’t ask anything.

He just holds on.

Tight.

One hand cups the back of my head, the other bracing Jiho’s trembling spine.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re okay now.”

I want to tell him he’s wrong. That nothing’s okay. That I’m still broken, still afraid, still so angry.

But all I do is cry harder.

And he lets me.

His own breath stutters against my cheek, but he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t ask for answers.

He just holds me like he never wants to let go again.

I don’t know how long we stay like that. On the cold pavement. Wrapped in the scent of him—cologne and city air and something achingly familiar.

Jiho’s hiccups start to slow. His small hand curls into the front of Jungkook’s shirt, and for a second, Jungkook stops breathing altogether. His fingers twitch slightly against Jiho’s back, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to react.

But Jiho doesn’t let go.

So Jungkook exhales. Slowly. And wraps both arms around us again.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” I whisper eventually. My voice is raw. Shaky. “I didn’t want to call you.”

“I know.”

He gives a small nod, like he’s scared saying anything will push me away. “But you remembered Le Morte.”

I pull back just enough to look at him. His face is shadowed, lit only by the flickering streetlamp, but I see it—every crack. Every line.

His jaw is clenched. His eyes are red. Not from the cold.

He’s hurting too.

“Why did you come?” I whisper. “You could’ve ignored it. You could’ve sent someone else. You could’ve—”

“I would’ve crawled through fire to get to you.”

I suck in a breath. My lip trembles.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, barely getting the words out. “I don’t know where to go. I don’t even know how I got here. I just—he hit me, Jungkook. He—he hit me and Jiho saw.”

His whole body tenses. His jaw ticks so hard I flinch, and he notices—immediately softening.

“I’m not him,” he says low. “I swear to God, I’m not him. But if you need me to leave after this, I will. I’ll go. Just tell me where you want to be, and I’ll get you there safe. That’s all I care about right now.”

I look down at Jiho. His head is resting on my shoulder again. One hand fisting the fabric of Jungkook’s coat. His cheeks are pink from the cold, but his eyes are fluttering shut. He’s exhausted.

“Can we go somewhere warm?” I ask. “Just…for tonight.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate.

“Yeah, baby.”

I freeze.

He sees it—hears it—and his voice softens again.

“I mean—Y/N. Yeah. Let’s get you warm.”

He rises carefully, lifting Jiho from my arms without waking him. He holds him so securely, like he’s done it a hundred times, and my chest twists.

I stand too, legs weak. Jungkook watches me closely, like he’s waiting for me to collapse again. He keeps an arm around me as we walk toward the car waiting by the curb.

He opens the back door, gently places Jiho in the seat, then looks back at me.

“You sit with him. I’ll drive.”

And just like that, I nod.

Because for the first time in a long time— I believe him. We’re safe.

He places Jiho in the backseat, his hands steady but his jaw locked so tight it looks like it might shatter.

When he closes the door and turns to me, I expect him to say something—anything.

But he doesn’t.

Not at first.

He just stares.

At me.

His eyes flick over my face, pausing on the bruises beneath my makeup, the swelling just below my eye. My cracked lip. My trembling fingers still clutching the edge of his coat.

His whole body shakes as he exhales through his nose.

And then he’s in front of me—closer than I can brace for.

His hands reach out, hesitating for a breath before they find my cheeks, the pads of his thumbs ghosting over my skin like I might disappear. His brows are drawn so tight, his mouth pressed in fury, but his touch… God.

His touch is gentle.

Too gentle.

He wipes under my eyes with trembling fingers.

He swallows hard, like the words taste like poison. His thumb keeps brushing under my eye, trying to clean away the tears that won’t stop falling. His forehead leans close, almost touching mine, his breath shaky.

“You have no idea,” he whispers, voice low, “what it did to me to hear your voice like that.”

I blink up at him. My knees feel hollow.

“You were crying. And Jiho was crying. And I wasn’t there—again."

“Tell me where he is,” he whispers. “Just tell me where.”

“Jungkook—”

“No,” he says, voice still soft, but steel beneath. “You don’t get to show up shaking and scared, with bruises on your face and tears in your eyes, and expect me not to burn the fucking world down.”

His voice falters at the end. His hands drop, then fist at his sides.

“I didn’t come to fall into you again,” I say quietly. “I came because I had no one left. That doesn’t mean I—”

“I know,” he cuts in, eyes closing for a second like he’s steadying himself. “But I’m not strong enough to pretend it doesn’t mean anything.”

Silence lingers.

The wind cuts past us, but he steps in again, cupping the back of my head, his palm warm against my scalp. His other arm wraps around me slowly—cautiously—like he’s waiting for me to pull away.

I don’t.

I can’t.

He holds me against his chest like I’m glass.

“I should’ve been there,” he whispers into my hair. “All along. Through everything.”

I cry harder.

Because despite everything I told myself— Despite the time, the pain, the silence—

A part of me never stopped wishing he had been.

The morning light slips through the blinds in pale streaks, soft and almost kind, like it doesn’t know how much pain this room has held overnight. I haven’t moved much. I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed for almost an hour, staring at the carpet, trying to pretend my stomach isn’t hollow, that my lungs aren’t tight, that the world hasn’t shifted underneath me again.

Jiho is asleep in the hotel crib across the room—warm, safe, breathing steady. Jungkook insisted we take the king bed, and he spent the night on the armchair, half-awake, shirt wrinkled, jaw locked. He left early this morning, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t coming back.

But the door opens.

My shoulders jump before I can stop them.

“It’s just me,” he says, voice low, careful. I don’t turn around. I just listen to the soft thud of his shoes as he steps inside.

“I brought breakfast.”

I hear the tray set down on the small table. Hear the lids lifting, the faint hiss of steam rising into the quiet. I don’t move. I can’t.

“You didn’t have to,” I murmur.

“I wanted to.”

His voice is closer now. I feel him looking at me, the silence stretching. I finally glance up.

He looks… tired. The same white button-down from last night, sleeves pushed up. No jacket. Dark slacks, black watch. His hair is messy, like he’s run his hands through it a thousand times since the sun came up.

I can’t hold his gaze.

He sits down slowly, arms resting on his knees. He doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t push. But his voice cuts through everything anyway.

“Why him?”

I freeze.

“Why Han?” he says again, quieter now. “What made you pick him? Stay with him? Let him around Jiho?”

I feel the sting in my eyes before I even try to speak.

“I thought I didn’t owe you that.”

“You don’t.” His voice catches. “But I need to know. Because last night you looked like you were breaking. And then you called me.”

I don’t answer.

“I thought you hated me,” he whispers.

I close my eyes. “I did.”

His breath catches.

“But I didn’t have anyone else.”

That admission burns worse than anything.

He doesn’t speak right away. And when he does, it’s so quiet I almost miss it.

“I’m glad you called me.”

I blink hard.

“And don’t look at me like that,” he says gently, like he can read every line of guilt on my face. “I know you feel guilty. I know you think you shouldn’t have. But Jiho’s my son. And you’re his mother.”

He stands, steps closer.

“I wanted to do this. I want to be here. Don’t be guilty.”

His voice cracks. Just barely.

“I wanted to protect you.”

The room feels too small. My throat feels too tight. I can’t breathe with all this silence pressing on me.

When he reaches for me, I let him. His hand touches my cheek, his thumb brushing beneath my eye—and I realize I’m crying again.

His palm is warm. Steady.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” he says.

And I break.

I lean into him, and he catches me, arms wrapping around me like a shelter I never thought I’d need again. He holds me tight—tight like he doesn’t want to let go, tight like he’s afraid if he does, I’ll disappear again.

My hands clutch his shirt, and his lips brush my hair.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to say that. Not right now.”

And before I can think—before guilt or pride can pull me back—I lift my face and kiss him.

It’s slow. Raw. Desperate. Like everything we’ve buried is clawing its way back to the surface.

His hand cradles the back of my neck, his breath shuddering.

He kisses me like he’s been waiting years for this.

And for once… I let him.

authors note: im ngl im tryna stay active by using my old stories, sooo they're lowkey unedited but again pls comment i love hearing ur opinions!!!

#bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts army #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook ff

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wintrbears · 25 days ago

Text

Cradle Robbers: The First Trimester | JJK

Summary: Jungkook makes a proposition you can't don't want to refuse, and there are seemingly no consequences to your friendship at first, but then you miss you period and have to explain to all your loved ones how you got knocked up by your childhood best friend.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Smut, Fluff, Crack, Angst (barely, you have to squint to see it)

Word Count: 26k+

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, fear, anxiety, crying, screaming, arguing, vomiting, cravings, drinking (not OC), mention of withdrawal, doctor's offices, ultrasounds, pregnancy tests, mentions of a break-up, pet names (bambi/bams, babygirl, baby), cats, dogs, wealth, sex in a movie, tickling, karaoke, medication, talk of childbirth, periods, birth control failure, video games, parental expectations. SMUT: kissing, unprotected sex (obviously), neck kissing, penetrative sex, missionary, dick riding, sideways/from behind, oral sex (both receiving), face riding, face fucking, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, BIG DICK JK!!!, spanking, cream pie, titty sucking, pleasuring with underwear, ripping underwear, implication of sexual favors, hickies, soreness, aftercare, masturbation (f), cuddling, cock warming, alright I think that's all folks!

Author's Note: it's finally hereeee. this is the first of three parts for my new series and i'm so, so excited to share it with you guys! koo and bambi have my whole heart along with all their friends and family we meet. I know pregnancy fics aren't always the most loved, but I assure you this Jungkook is so worth it... he's tooth-rottingly sweet and soooo sexy! also, I linked the video of the boys performance bc it's too freaking good not to watch, so look out for that (and also ignore yoongi not actually being there lmao). please let me know what you guys think and/or any predications you have for the next chapter, the baby's name and/or gender, etc. I LOVE hearing what you guys have to say! OK ily bye :)

-> Cradle Robbers Masterpost

ZERO

The sound of some garbage eating rodent is the first thing you hear after kicking your apartment door open with the tip of your boot. Muscle memory brings your hand to the light switch, but you aren’t able to flip it up because the lights are already on. So, the rodent is big enough to reach that height… wonderful.

You toe your boots off and hang your coat up, tossing your keys in the old stolen ashtray you use to house them. When you round the corner, the familiar, lovable vermin is bent over as he rummages through your fridge.

It’s ridiculous, honestly, given that this particular species of rat earns quadruple your salary.

“Koo,” you get his attention.

“Hm?”

He doesn’t budge an inch when responding to the call of his nickname. Eyes rolling back, you stroll over and smack his ass as hard as you can.

“Yo!” Jungkook jerks up and just barely misses hitting his head on the refrigerator. “Take me to dinner first.”

“I am,” you reply. “You’re eating my food.”

Jungkook smiles innocently and squishes your cheeks with his fingers before shaking your head back and forth.

“And I’m so, so grateful,” he teases in a baby voice.

You swat his hand away, but the light in your eyes and the remnants of a smile on your face reveal your true feelings about his teasing.

This predicament is one of your own creation, since you gave Jungkook a key a while ago in case of emergencies. The issue is, an emergency for Jungkook can be your place being closer to the gym than his, and he needs a snack after his workout. In your mind, the purpose was so he can bring you chocolate ice cream on your period and take down intruders. He’s only done one of those things so far, and the intruder was a stray cat.

Falling to your couch with a soft thump, you groan and tilt your head back against the cushions. Today was egregiously long and definitely not worth the money it made you. The only upside is it’s Friday and you have two whole days to lounge around your apartment and do nothing at all.

Jungkook comes around the peninsula which separates your kitchen from your living room with a fresh bowl of instant ramen in his hands. He blows on the noodles for a second before slurping them into his mouth, all without noticing the glare you’re sending his way. His eyes crinkle when he sees you, letting you know he’s smiling, even though you can’t see his mouth behind the bowl.

“What’s with the face, Bambi?”

“You seriously didn’t think of making one for me?” You ask through a pout.

You finally see Jungkook’s smile when he lowers the bowl to place it on the peninsula. He looks proud, his head tilting as he chuckles to himself.

Then, you hear the microwave go off, and your glare quickly turns into a grin.

Jungkook grabs the second bowl from the microwave and sets it on the counter. You watch appreciatively as he rips open the sauce packet before putting it between his teeth and using his chopsticks to pour it all into the bowl. The crinkle of a cheese wrapper opening brings your eyebrows up your forehead in delight. He drops the orange square into the bowl and mixes everything together with the chopsticks before holding it out towards you.

“You gonna take that shit back now or what?”

You beam and giggle as you stand, practically skipping across the room so you can take the bowl of delicious noodles from him.

“Thank you,” you sing-song.

“Mmhmm.”

The two of you eat on your couch in a slurp filled ambiance. It’s an old, familiar scene and one you always appreciate even if you don’t say it outloud.

They say you choose your friends, but Jungkook was pretty much forced on you. Your mothers are college roommates who became best friends and later married another pair of best friends. The women proceeded to plot and plan accordingly so they would be pregnant together and their kids would be the same age. Unfortunately, your parents went off script by about six months, but you and Jungkook are still close enough in age to be in the same grade throughout school.

Even though your friendship was intricately planned long before your conception, you’re close of your own volition.

Jungkook is not only your best friend, but the most amazing person you know and probably in existence. You wouldn’t trade him for the world if it came down to it. In fact, if the zombie apocalypse ever happens, and somehow his death is the only way to find a cure, you will Joel Miller-style kill every single person who dares to try and take him from you. They can rip your dorky, caring, smart-ass best friend from your cold, dead hands. Everyone else can become zombies for all you care, everyone but him.

The sound of a bowl meeting the coffee table pulls your attention back to the man beside you. He kicks his feet up and stretches his arms above his head in relaxation. When the action reveals a sliver of skin from below the hem of his shirt, you use the opportunity to tickle him and laugh when he groans and folds into himself.

“Is this really the game you wanna play, Bams?” He speaks to the floor, still hunching over from your attack.

Bambi, or Bams for short, is the only name Jungkook calls you. Sometimes, you jokingly accuse him of forgetting your real name altogether, which then spurs him on to attempt “guessing” what it is. Ironically, neither of you nor your parents can recall the origin of the nickname. Like some strange Mandela effect, one day he started calling you by the Disney character’s name and never stopped.

If memory serves correctly, you think the last time you heard the syllables of your name leave his mouth was in fifth grade when he defended you against a clique of mean girls. Something along the lines of “leave my Y/N alone,” in his adorable kiddie Jungkook voice.

He’s certainly gone through some drastic changes since then. His voice now filters out in a deep, honey tone, he doesn’t use his bangs to conceal his starry eyes anymore, and he’s got you beat by a few inches in height. You’re different, too, mostly in the way you no longer need him to defend you on the playground. He still would, though, and he often tries on nights out when someone tries testing your patience.

Jungkook would never hurt a fly, but he’s got an entire sleeve of tattoos, multiple piercings, and broad shoulders, so he uses his outward appearance to his advantage and scares people away when necessary.

You don’t respond to his taunt, instead you slowly slide across the fabric of the couch, as quietly as you can so he doesn’t pick up on the movement. He, of course, notices right away, and a cheshire grin appears before your eyes.

Standing up like lightning, you make a break for your bedroom, but you only reach the back of the couch before his arms are clinching you by the waist.

“No!” You shout and kick the air as he tugs you back towards the furniture.

“You asked for this.”

“Koo, no!”

He drops you unceremoniously onto the cushions where you flail in an attempt to escape, but it’s futile because Jungkook is already bending down to tickle your sides. Hysterical laughter fills the space as his fingertips pitter-patter on your skin. Your best friend is ruthless as always, never halting his actions even as you squirm and swat at him to get away.

“Say you’re sorry, Bambi.”

“Jungkook, I’m gonna fucking pee my pants,” you threaten.

“Not my problem,” he responds.

You gasp and recoil when he starts tickling your neck, rendering you completely useless to do anything but suffer. Eventually, your brain returns from its momentary vacation and you find the will to fight back, grabbing his hands and pulling them away as you attempt to catch your breath. Jungkook’s smiling like the devil himself above you and you resist the urge to slap the smirk right off his handsome face.

This behavior is par for the course for you both, because you’re a brat who likes to test his limits, and he’s too competitive to let you have the last laugh.

Jungkook stands to his full height, smirk still intact, while you struggle to slow your jackrabbiting heart. He moseys over to your bookshelf to survey its contents, and once you’re sitting up again, you chuck a throw pillow across the room at him. It meets his back before pathetically falling to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t even flinch. He just shakes his head and tsks at your feeble attempt at payback.

His fingers trace over the items occupying your bookshelf before settling on a thin rectangle and removing it from its home.

“Movie night?”

He rests the corner of the DVD case against his head to show it off to you. You call him towards you with your hand so you can inspect the item for yourself. It houses a movie you haven’t seen in a long time, some low budget rom com with good sex scenes. Shrugging, you nod your head at him and watch as he goes to play the movie in your now ancient DVD player.

“I’ll go make popcorn,” you announce before standing and heading to the kitchen.

Jungkook plummets into the couch and grabs your fuzzy blanket to spread over his legs. When you return with a large bowl of popcorn to share, he lifts the blanket and readjusts it to cover your legs as well.

Neither of you pay much attention to the plot, too busy joking around when characters say stupid lines. You spend your time talking about your week and any plans for the upcoming weekend instead. Jungkook’s just finishing up his story about his boss accidentally unmuting himself on Teams when the first sex scene catches your attention. You both actually focus on the screen for the first time and Jungkook tilts his head while tonguing his cheek as the male character descends down the female character’s body and kisses her skin as he goes.

“Do you ever think about it?” He asks as he throws a kernel of popcorn into the air and catches it with his mouth.

“About what?” You look towards the screen. “Sex?” He nods and puts his arm behind you on the couch so he can face you. “Like, in general, or —”

“No, no,” Jungkook chuckles. “Like us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, have you thought about us having sex?”

The popcorn in your mouth goes down the wrong tube when you choke in response to his question. You hit your chest once to help it descend your esophagus before reaching for your drink on the coffee table. The time it takes you to gulp down the fizzy beverage isn’t nearly enough for you to gather your thoughts.

“Koo, what the actual fuck,” you scold him.

“Is that a no?” He raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Because I know I have.”

“Ew, when?”

“It’s not often, just like, every once in a while,” he explains. “I just think it would be fun! This is not me making some grandstand announcement about how I’ve always wanted you or some shit.” He readjusts so his entire body faces you directly. “Listen, we’ve done everything together. Skydiving, parasailing, swimming with dolphins, stealing from the grocery store, sneaking into the movies, you name it. Doesn’t it make sense that we should do everything before we aren’t able to anymore?”

“You forced me to go skydiving, Jungkook.”

“That’s not the point, Bambi,” he playfully grits his teeth. “Eventually, we’re gonna settle down with our own partners and the window of opportunity will be gone. Why not try something new together while we still can?”

Your teeth hold your bottom lip captive as your mind processes his proposal. Truthfully, you have thought about it, same as him. Not in some romantic, storybook way, but just from a perspective of knowing he’s a handsome guy with a great build and it would probably be a fun night for both of you. This conversation scares the shit out of you, though. Thinking about it is one thing, but attempting to manifest it into reality is a whole other beast. The list of things that could go wrong is longer than a CVS receipt. Then again, you and Jungkook have been through everything together and you’ve always made it out on the other side.

“Koo, I don’t know…” you admit. “I love me some good casual sex with no feelings involved, but this is us we’re talking about.”

“Exactly!” He claps his hands together eagerly. “It’s us, probably the only two people in the whole world who nothing can come between.” Jungkook sighs and eats more popcorn from the bowl still in your lap. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Bams, I just really think we’d both have a great time. I mean, I’m hot, you’re hot, I’ve got a big dick, I’m sure your pussy is tight, what else could you want?”

You laugh at his reasoning, throwing your head back and holding the position as you blow air from your mouth. A couple anticipatory moments pass as your mind weighs the options. A large intake of air fills your lungs before you lift your head.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay?”

“Okay, Koo.”

Jungkook giggles like a little kid, his feet stamping the ground repeatedly as he pumps his arms in excitement. Your laughter returns in response to his celebration, rolling your eyes affectionately at the familiar behavior of your childhood best friend.

“You said yes because I called you tight, is that it?”

Shaking your head, you push his shoulder back with your hand, using your other one to place the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. Jungkook’s eyes turn into big oases of black as his pupils dilate and conceal the normal chocolate color of his irises. You take your time straddling his thighs, your knees digging into the couch beside his hips.

“No,” you answer him. Making a show of flipping your hair over your shoulder and bending down until you’re face to face. You avoid his lips, which are pouting slightly, to place a kiss over the tiny mole on his neck. “I said yes because you said you have a big dick and now I need to find out if that’s true,” you whisper into his ear.

Your voice has a sultry edge you’ve never used in his presence before. Sitting back on your heels, you gaze at him with an innocent smile as you bat your eyelashes.

Jungkook’s look of surprise is long gone, his eyes sharpening until they’re a quarter of their normal size as he stares you down. The muscles in his jaw clench and the skin of his brow creases, his eyebrows nearly kissing. Your eyes catch the thick vein in his neck pulsing with adrenaline and it makes your thighs tingle.

He laughs incredulously, running a hand through his hair as he tongues his cheek.

“Alright, so we’re doing it this way,” he muses.

In an instant, Jungkook is grabbing your hips and slamming you down into his lap. You gasp and brace yourself on his shoulders. Your reaction brings a satisfied smirk to his face, and you have the urge to roll your eyes again, but then his fingers rake into your hair and he yanks the strands to expose your throat. A needy whine passes through your lips as your neck beckons him to give it attention. He places a single, gentle kiss to your pulse point before leaving you wanting. A second noise of complaint is about to leave you when Jungkook finally starts devouring your neck with his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan quietly.

Jungkook chuckles melodiously against the wet spots he’s leaving on you. The feeling of his warm breath on your skin forms goosebumps across your arms and sends a shiver straight down your spine. His teeth are maiming your neck as he works diligently to paint you in pretty, purple bruises shaped like his mouth. Once the artwork appears before his eyes, he licks over the mark and kisses it before moving to conquer another spot.

Meanwhile, your hips spring into action and you start moving in languid circles across his lap. The initial plan is to keep the pressure of your movements teasingly light, but once you feel the apparent bulge forming in his pants, you can’t resist grinding down hard against his clothed cock.

Jungkook groans responsively and bites into your skin with his canines.

Soon enough, he ceases his assault on your neck so his lips can travel across your shoulder instead. His fingers push your shirt down your arm so he can kiss and lick your skin unimpeached. You moan loudly, the rhythm of your hips picking up in tempo as he seeks out every inch of exposed skin he can.

“Fuck, I could come in my fucking pants, Bams,” he whispers. “Please don’t stop.”

His words only motivate you to push your hips into him harder. He groans again and nods his head approvingly. You agree with him internally, the friction from your underwear rubbing against your clit steadily sending you into a frenzy.

“So good, Koo.”

Jungkook hums and leans back to appreciate the portrait of his lips he’s left on you. His fingertips gently trace over the hickies and he wears a proud smile as he turns your head back and forth to examine his work.

“You look so pretty, all marked up,” he praises.

Pushing him down by his shoulders, you grab his face with both hands to kiss him. There’s an electric shock when your lips meet for the first time, but you aren’t sure if it’s only in your head or if he felt it, too.

The kiss is anything but romantic. Within seconds you’re licking into his mouth and chasing his tongue while his teeth pull at your bottom lip. Jungkook moans and his fingers press down against your scalp. Tilting your head, you kiss him like he’s your only source of oxygen. Your body and mind are in overdrive, your thighs twitching with need and you need his lips to bring you back down to earth.

He tastes sweet like the cola he was drinking and it makes your head spin. The pretty, pink, doll lips you’ve always admired are magical in the way they move. Jungkook has you trapped between his mouth and the hand on your head, but you don’t mind when he’s kissing you until your mind blanks.

It's a scramble of fingers and hands as you undress one another as fast as humanly possible. His warm hands brush against your stomach as he lifts your top over your head. You feel his abs beneath your fingers when you tug off his shirt. Jungkook accidentally pinches your skin when unhooking your bra and you don’t even notice, too busy kissing him like your life depends on it.

When Jungkook sees your tits for the first time, he fucking loses it. His head hits the arm of the couch as it falls back, and the growl that comes from deep within his throat is fucking demonic.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he declares.

You’re unable to respond because he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple and tweaking the other with his fingers, forcing the air from your lungs instantaneously. Jungkook’s tongue circles your nipple a couple times before he sucks the erect nub into his mouth, keeping the same pace with his fingers on your other breast.

The moans coming from you are unrecognizable in comparison to your normal timbre, and they only grow in volume when Jungkook switches sides and repeats his debilitating ministrations.

Lacing your fingers through his black strands, you pull his face away from your chest to see his eyes. He barely looks like himself anymore, a scorching fire behind his usual soft gaze. The image lights you up inside, and you kiss him again hard enough that he tumbles back into the couch cushions and brings you along with him.

His hands explore the smooth skin of your back and shoulders, massaging you with his big hands as he traverses across the previously uncharted territory.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook,” you tell him as you kiss his jaw. “Everything about you.”

His skin is searing hot and flushed red, the tint going all the way down his neck and chest. You take your time moving across his jawline and throat, sucking just below his ear and letting your tongue trace the perimeter of his earlobe. Descending down his torso, you kiss his collarbones and pecs while digging your nails into his abs, your ample attempt at showing him exactly what you mean by your comment.

“Need you, Bambi, so fucking bad,” he whines.

The only acknowledgment you give him is by looking up with a devilish smirk before your hands start to unbutton his jeans. You pull them down just enough to reveal his boxers and hold his eye contact while you kiss the fabric covering his cock. Jungkook’s hips twitch and his eyes squeeze shut, an undeniably sexy groan leaving him. Your hands caress his thighs while you mouth at his boxers and you can feel him getting harder with each press of your lips.

He hurries to pull his pants down the rest of the way while you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. When you tease him by letting them snap against his hips, he hisses and you see his Adam's apple bob. His hips buck towards your face desperately, making you snicker at his attempt to create friction.

“Patience, Koo,” you tease him. Jungkook grits his teeth at your taunt, but only a second later the tension seeps from his body when you reach into his boxers and palm him. “Let’s see if you were exaggerating or not, hmm?”

Once his boxers are gone, you realize he was, in fact, under exaggerating. He knows it, too, because when you glance up, he’s smirking with pride, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

“Whaddaya think?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“How about you see how much that pretty mouth of yours can take?”

One thing about you and Jungkook is you're both competitive as hell, and you’ll be damned if his whole dick isn’t situated down your throat soon just to prove a point.

Gathering spit in your mouth, you lean directly over his hard cock and let it slowly fall from your lips to his head. You wait for the sound of Jungkook moaning before doing it again, this time actually spitting instead of letting it drip down. Your hand gathers the saliva to spread it over his head and down his shaft. Your best friend is panting above you as he studies the way you work his cock with your hand.

Jungkook is stupid fucking big, and you genuinely fear he’ll split you in half when you fuck. Not only is his dick long, but it’s so thick your fingertips don’t touch when you grasp him. He’s rock hard and throbbing in your hold and there’s a perfect bead of precum just waiting for you to lick.

When you do, Jungkook cries out in pleasure and it's hands down the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. He’s always been the tough one between you, and having him like puddy in your hands is more satisfying than you care to admit.

Your tongue flattens over his slit and you groan at the taste of his cum, your mouth already watering at the thought of more coming your way. You lick around his head in one long stroke and then circle your tongue just under the sensitive ridge. Jungkook whines at the feeling of your tongue on his aching dick. Your hand is still using your self-made lubricant to glide up and down his shaft.

“Bams, fuck,” Jungkook pants the words across staccato exhales.

It’s nearly impossible for you to say no to the man begging for your mouth, so you finally end your teasing and take him between your lips. You suckle on his head and let more saliva drip down his shaft before removing your hand to focus solely on the movements of your mouth. Your hands hold onto his muscular thighs as you finally take him deeper into your throat.

It definitely takes time for your lips and throat to adjust to his size. Each time you slide down his cock you take more of him into your mouth until your nose hits his pelvis. You breathe through your nose and stay there for a moment, swallowing and moaning around him.

“Oh, shit.” Jungkook looks down at you in awe, watching in wonder at the way your lips stretch around his cock. “Bambi, holy fucking shit.”

The chuckle you release sends vibrations around Jungkook’s dick and his hips buck up responsively. You moan again and squeeze his thighs, attempting to send a message that he’s free to repeat the action. He must interpret your message accurately because you feel him forming your hair into a makeshift ponytail and thrusting his hips up.

Jungkook would never want to hurt you, so even though his body is screaming at him to animalisticaly fuck your mouth, his thrusts are shallow and modest.

Even so, his strokes make you gag every time his tip hits the back of your throat. He’s pulling on your hair and the sensation of being used like a sex toy makes your eyes roll back. Tears form and roll down to meet the drool that’s leaking from your mouth. Breathing through your nose, you suck harder to make a tighter fit for him. He’s appreciative, growling and yanking on your hair as a thank you.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he warns you. Hearing his words, you massage his heavy balls in your hand to push him over the edge. A broken moan comes from above you and his hips start to lose their cadence as his orgasm nears. “Can I… your throat…”

His words are clipped, but you understand and squeeze his thigh to give him permission. Within a single moment you start tasting his cum at the back of your throat. Moaning endlessly at how good he tastes, you move your lips up and down his cock as he comes, swallowing his seed and licking him clean at the same time.

When you’re certain you’ve stolen every last drop and sucked him dry, you come up for air with a harsh gasp.

“Holy fuck,” you curse and massage your jaw.

Jungkook grabs your chin with his hand and makes you look at him so he can see that you’re alright. You nod assuredly and sit back on your heels.

“That was, on God, the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jungkook states.

You laugh and shove his chest, but he snatches your hand and pulls you towards him. He kisses you like he fucking means it, grabbing the side of your face so you can’t move an inch. Your moans meet in each other’s mouths as Jungkook sucks on your tongue to taste himself.

“Can we move this party to the bedroom?”

Jungkook nods, his hand still caressing your face, before helping you up so you can both head to your room at the back of the apartment. When the door opens, your grey munchkin cat scurries out from behind the door.

“Oh, Usagi, I forgot you were in there,” you say as she bolts for her scratching post.

“Probably a good thing,” Jungkook notes, his eyes gesturing down to his dick still on display.

You chuckle and grab his hand to lead him into the room before shutting the door behind you. He immediately takes a seat on the bed while you stay standing to pull your pants down your legs.

Jungkook’s eyes trace the movement, his pupils blowing even wider when he sees your black lace panties and the evident wet spot on them. Reaching his hand out, you take it and stand between his legs. Your hands push his hair back, scratching at his scalp to hear the pretty moan that accompanies the movement.

He leans forward and kisses your abdomen, just above your panties. You sigh as his lips traverse the expanse of your stomach and hips, leaving a hot, wet trail in their wake.

“Koo, need you,” you whimper.

The feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin of your waist makes you jump, but then he soothes the ache with his tongue.

“You know, since you made me come already, I’m going to have to fuck you in other ways until I’m ready to go again,” he states. You hum in acknowledgment and he rests his chin against you to gaze upwards. “You gonna be able to handle that, Bams?”

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep.”

Jungkook scoffs and turns you around, slapping your ass harshly before pulling you down into his lap. You yelp at the sudden change in position, but the feeling of his warm chest on your back makes you melt into his embrace.

“Do you even know me at all, Bams?” He scoffs again. “How many orgasms have you had in one night before?”

“Like… three?”

“Pussy fucking numbers,” he snaps. “We’re aiming for double digits here.”

“Jungkook!” You look over your shoulder at him in shock, but his facial expression is completely serious. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m really fucking not.”

“I’ll die.”

Jungkook just shakes his head disapprovingly and licks his lips. He grabs your jaw to turn your head, his hand diving into your hair again to hold you in place so he can ravish your mouth. His kiss has you completely hypnotized and you barely remember the conversation you were just having.

“How about we compromise and aim for five?” He suggests.

You want to kiss him too badly to muster a response, so you just hum in affirmation before turning around and bringing his lips to yours. He pulls you into him as he falls back onto the bed. Your legs return to their position on either side of his muscular thighs, and your lips work earnestly to kiss every inch of his face and jaw until they reach his neck.

Your clothed cunt grinds over his dick as you mark him with a matching bruise to your own, the friction created by your panties making you groan. You continue to lick and torment the delicate skin of his neck while he guides your movements with his hands.

All too soon, Jungkook stops you by grabbing your shoulder and you eye him curiously. His eyes flit around the features of your face for a minute. When he smiles in satisfaction, you know he’s got a tantalizing idea for how he’s going to make you come.

“Sit on my face,” he commands.

You don’t need to be told twice to get your pussy ate.

Jungkook moves to the center of the bed and taps his chest to beckon you over. Bending to remove your panties, you look up in surprise when Jungkook halts your actions by grabbing your wrist.

“How expensive were those?” He asks.

“$20 maybe.”

“Leave ‘em on, I’ll buy you new ones.”

Sometimes you conveniently forget your best friend is rich until moments like these when he reminds you.

When you and Jungkook were in college he coded and designed an entire video game in his spare time, because he’s a freaking genius, and then he sold said video game for millions of dollars. Now he works as a lead designer at the biggest video game company in the country and consistently makes six figures.

Jungkook has a huge dick and an even bigger bank account, and here you thought God made everyone equal.

Shrugging at his instruction, you do as he says and climb onto the bed. As tactfully as possible, you maneuver your legs around Jungkook’s head and sit up on your knees so your core is a few inches above his mouth. His hands hold your hips and he takes the time to trace over your curves while looking up at your pussy slowly soaking the lace of your underwear.

After several long moments of eager anticipation, he yanks you down by your thighs until the tip of his nose is tickling you. Your head tips back as you sigh, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit through your underwear satiating the craving for his touch. He presses a few chaste kisses to the black fabric as he nuzzles his nose into your cunt to give you more friction. You grip his hair beneath you as he continues to tease you with featherlight touches of his nose and mouth.

“Koo, don’t,” you beg.

His only reply is a hum and you feel the vibrations from it against your core. Then he bites at your underwear to give him access to your pussy before licking you from bottom to top. The fabric sinks between your folds as Jungkook’s tongue presses the panties into you and the friction feels unbelievable on your clit.

Your hand yanks on his hair in appreciation as he continues to eat you out and use your sopping wet panties to pleasure you.

Once he’s ready for more, his hands move towards your cunt and a loud ripping sound permeates the air. You gasp when you feel him throw your torn panties to the side before forcing your pussy down harder on his face. He collects all the essence you’re leaking with an erotic slurping sound. His tongue slides through your folds and fucks into your hole while his nose continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.”

He laughs against your pussy and slows down just enough so you can hear him.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Bams.”

Your free hand claws at the bed frame haphazardly as he eats you like it’s his goddamn job. He kisses your cunt messily, spitting into it and smearing your cum around his face along with his own salvia. His tongue travels up to your clit and the pure, unadulterated pleasure makes you scream. When he flattens the muscle against your sensitive nub you swear you’ll fall over, but his hands on your thighs are still holding you steady above him.

“Koo, holy fuck.” Your head tips back and your nails bite into the fabric of the headboard. “Make me come, please.”

Jungkook moans responsively beneath you and dives in even deeper, licking you menacingly without reprieve while guiding your hips to ride his face. You take the hint and begin moving your hips on your own, letting your pussy press against all the outlines of his face as his tongue laps up your juices.

He returns to your clit again and scrapes his teeth against it, causing tears to escape from your waterline as you whimper. Soothing the ache of his bite with his tongue, he slows to a tortuous pace as he kitten licks you for a while. You’re crying continuously now, your hips desperately seeking anything they can get as you move across his face in an erratic rhythm. Jungkook takes pity on you and finally sucks your clit into his mouth before moaning so he can send you right over the edge.

Your hand sinks further into Jungkook’s hair and your nails scratch his scalp as you come all over his face. The bedframe rocks from how hard you’re holding on while your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. Absolute, unbridled euphoria moves through you and makes your eyes roll back.

Jungkook continues to lick your cunt until you jump from the oversensitivity and move away from his face. You hear a disappointed groan as you crash onto the bed beside him.

“You taste so fucking good, Bams,” he tells you. “I could do that all fucking night.”

Chest swelling with pride, you’re about to reply when you feel something against your back and frown in confusion. The scratchy material rubs awkwardly against you and you bend away from it to grab it.

Your soaked, ripped panties dangle from your fingers as you click your tongue and throw them into the trash can.

“You’re a fucking gremlin,” you note.

Jungkook doesn’t respond to your statement, he just maintains eye contact while moving to kneel before pulling you closer by the waist. The pretty vision of him above you makes your breath hitch.

His hand travels ostentatiously from your neck all the way down to your hip, lighting an internal fire within you wherever his touch goes. You wait with bated breath as his fingers dance across your skin until they reach your center. Jungkook deliberately teases you, his fingertips just barely touching your clit before moving away again.

You hiss and grab his wrist so his hand can’t move towards your pussy again.

“What?” Jungkook smiles down at you with a tilt of his head. “You’re not ready for more yet? We’re only at one of five, Bambi, we’ve got a lot more work to do.” He twists his hand out of your hold and presses down on your clit. You whimper and silently beg him with your eyes. “Plus, I’m an overachiever, so you know five is really going to be more like seven.”

“Seven?”

“Ilgop.”

“Fuck, don’t speak Korean to me right now. You know how hot it gets me.”

Jungkook giggles, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You smile at the sound and run your fingers through his hair.

He takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, and you instinctively lean your head away to give him more of you. His lips caress you gently for a while, but then he growls against your throat and grabs your jaw to hold you still. Your gasp settles into a moan and Jungkook takes it as a cue to continue playing with your pussy. His fingers circle your clit and your noises become even needier. He dips into your folds to collect your cum so he can rub over your nerve endings and it nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

Jungkook touches you like he’s done it a million times already and that thought alone leaves you breathless.

“Koo, baby, please,” you whimper in a tone even you don’t recognize. Jungkook’s big, boba eyes are back when he captures your gaze to wordlessly ask what you’re begging him for. “I don’t want to come. I want you.”

A dazzling smile appears on Jungkook’s lips, and a pretty, pink blush spreads across his cheeks and turns the tips of his ears red.

“Alright, Bambi,” he responds with a peck. “Condom?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for more kisses.

“I’m on birth control.”

Jungkook kisses you again before you can do so yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod against his lips. “Want you raw, Koo.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook chuckles. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Jungkook goes to pump his cock with his hand, but before he has the chance, you bring his palm to your lips and spit into it. He groans, his eyes rolling back, as he reaches down and uses your spit to fuck his hand.

Your eyes follow the movement of his wrist jerking himself off. It’s honestly mouthwatering to watch his thick cockhead push past his fingers as he gets himself hard again for you.

He kisses your shoulder and collarbone, then licks up your neck until he reaches your ear. His teeth softly sink into the cartilage.

“You ready for me, Bams?”

His deep voice melts your insides into goo and forces your brain into another frequency. Everything is static except for the feeling of his body hovering above yours.

All you do is nod your head in response to his question.

Jungkook’s tip pushes past your tight circle of nerves and already you feel too full to function. A wanton gasp and whimper follow the intrusion as he slowly enters you for the first time. Your nails create crescents on his shoulders as you inhale through your nose to relieve the pressure in your core.

“Koo… you’re so fucking big,” you whine.

“I know, I know,” he chuckles.

He kisses your temple appreciatively.

By the time his entire cock is deep within your walls, his pelvis pressing against your own, you already feel yourself losing it. Jungkook fills you up completely, and you can barely bring yourself to exhale the air you’re holding in.

“Fuck, Bambi, are you a virgin or some shit?”

“You know damn well I’m not a virgin,” you grit.

Jungkook groans deeply as his head falls forward and his hair tickles your cheeks when he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Then what the fuck are you so fucking tight for?”

You loudly hum and pretend to think it over before glancing at him with a sultry tilt of your head.

“I think my pussy’s just that good,” you say. Pulling his face down so it’s only centimeters away, you let your lips brush for a split second before replying. “And it’s all yours, Jungkook. So fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook rears back and ferociously thrusts into you before your next breath can even exit your lungs.

“Oh, fuck!”

A sinister chuckle comes from your best friend.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Any semblance of control is forcefully taken away when Jungkook grabs your hands and slams them into the mattress above your head. Simultaneously, he begins pumping his cock into you at a disastrous pace and you can’t do anything but incoherently moan.

There’s no adjustment period, no slow-moving start. Jungkook is already fucking you like a goddamn ragdoll made solely for his pleasure.

“Koo, oh my fucking God,” you cry. It’s barely been a minute and hot, salty tears are already streaming down your face.

Jungkook kisses you and his moans filter into your mouth. His grip on your hands is bruising and it makes you whimper pathetically against his lips.

“Jungkook,” you sob as he abuses your pussy.

“Shh, shh.” He kisses you gently. “You can take it.” He kisses your cheek and up the side of your face. “I got you, Bams.”

You keen and your hands clasp around Jungkook’s in an effort to protect whatever’s left of your sanity.

His cock is buried in your pussy but you swear you feel yourself choking on him in your throat. Everytime his tip kisses your cervix you fear being split in two and yet there’s nothing you want more than for him to continue. You want him to rip you in half if it means feeling this full. He’s combining his strokes with a grind of his hips and it makes your cunt greedy for him, sucking him inside and squeezing his cock so he’ll never leave again.

Jungkook is throbbing and scorching hot inside you and the heat travels from your pussy throughout your entire body, lighting a fire in your bones and between your muscles that only he has the ability to stifle.

Your senses are amped up to ten and you scream over how deep he’s sending his dick into you.

The fire escapes externally when Jungkook releases your hands to explore your body instead. They travel down your entire outline until they find your hips and he tilts them upwards to create a new angle.

“Fuck, I always knew your pussy would feel this good,” he grunts. “You’re a fucking dream.”

The combination of the closer angle and Jungkook’s praises genuinely turns you to ruins, scattering pieces of your soul around and covering them in ivy. You kiss him again even though you know there’s no use, you’re shattered already. You devour his mouth, responding to his compliment through the movement of your lips instead of the words your body can’t produce at the moment.

Your fingers tilt his head so you can mouth at his sharp jaw, letting your tongue slide across his skin as he growls in your ear. Alternating between biting and kissing, you soak his honey skin in your spit and listen for the moans coming from deep within his chest.

“You feel so good, Koo,” you whisper into his ear. “Your cock fills me up so fucking well.”

“Shit,” he grunts. Jungkook grabs your thighs and pulls them up higher until you’re practically bent in half, your knees next to his shoulders. “So fucking good. You take me like a fucking champ, Bambi.”

Jungkook slows his pace by a hair, but only so he can thrust into you harder. Each clap of your skin connecting pulls a pornographic moan from your throat. You feel his balls slapping against your ass and the way your bodies are pressing together adds just the right amount of pressure on your clit.

It makes for a mind boggling combination that has your brain disintegrating into nothingness.

Your next orgasm is looming just around the corner. It builds inside you like a rollercoaster slowly moving up the track. Jungkook ups his pace again when he feels the telltale signs of your cunt pulsing and tightening around him like a vice.

“Cream my cock, Bams,” he commands. “C’mon, beautiful.”

A splintering gasp chokes you as you obey and come around his dick, coating his entire shaft in white essence.

The climax is brain chemistry altering. It feels as though your blood is ablaze and your heart can’t beat fast enough to push it through your body. Your legs clamp around his waist as they shake and convulse from the pleasure. All the while, Jungkook continues fucking his cock into your hole and sending you straight into oversensitivity subspace.

You’re still catching your breath when you grab Jungkook tightly by the shoulder to halt his movements. He looks at you with curious eyes, but he doesn’t completely stop, just slows down significantly and thrusts shallowly into you.

“Wanna ride you, Koo,” you tell him. “Wanna make you come so you can stuff me and watch it drip out.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, his teeth grinding together.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to bust!”

You laugh mischievously as he grabs you by the waist to flip you both over. Your bodies are only parted for a mere moment before you’re sinking back down onto his dick and scratching at his pecs with your nails.

“Oh my God, I didn’t think it was possible for you to reach any further inside me,” you note.

“Of course, Bambi, gonna rearrange your fucking guts,” Jungkook proudly states.

It’s disturbing how exciting the thought of that is.

The rhythm of your hips is nowhere near as monstrous, letting his cock slowly leave your cunt before feeling him fill you up again one inch at a time. Using his chest to stabilize yourself, your thighs work religiously to bounce and fuck yourself on him. You look towards the ceiling, a groan rising from your throat due to his thick cock pressing against your walls and hitting just the right spot inside you.

Jungkook reaches up to play with your tits dangling over his face, massaging them in his big hands before pushing them together. His fingers pinch your nipples until they’re pebbled and stiff. He leans forward to take one into his mouth and you have to grab onto his hair for support.

He smacks your ass and you yelp, but you understand the message he’s trying to send and pick up the pace. You push him back down and lean over so your hard nipples are pressing against the heat of his chest.

“Atta girl,” he praises with another stinging slap of his hand on your ass. His digits make a home in your hair again and he uses the leverage to force you to stare into his eyes. “Pussy s’fucking good, Bams.” Jungkook kisses across your neck torturously slow before speaking again. “So fucking tight, warm, wet… could stay in here for-fucking-ever.”

“Koo,” you whisper breathlessly.

Your hips swivel in desperation to send his dick as deep as it can go, honestly hoping your guts do part for him so his cock can nestle permanently inside you.

“You gonna come again?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good,” he speaks into your ear. “Come on my big, fat cock, babygirl.”

The moan you let out is the most humiliating sound to ever come from your body.

Luckily, no more are able to escape because Jungkook kisses you senseless. His tongue shoves into your mouth and licks around your own as you bounce on him as fast as your thighs will allow. He perpetuates your efforts by grasping your hips and rolling his own against you. It creates the perfect amount of friction on your clit and sends you tumbling into a pool of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

You weep over the intensity of your orgasm while he continues kissing you. Not wanting to lose an ounce of momentum, Jungkook takes over for you as your orgasm paralyzes your mind.

He fucks you relentlessly to bring about his own climax and the sound of your skin clapping together is so loud you worry it will shake your doorframe and alert the neighbors.

“Gonna fill you up, Bams,” he warns you.

He thrusts hard once, twice, sending his cock so deep you swear you see your stomach bulge, and then he grunts and a strangled cry breaks from his lips as he paints your pussy with his cum.

The heat of it makes your eyes roll into your skull.

You kiss him through the come down, slowly traversing across the bottom half of his face and scraping his jaw with your teeth. He moans weakly, the hand still in your hair moving down to your neck and squeezing it affectionately. You make out as he goes flaccid within you, the mixture of your juices slowly dripping out and soaking your thighs.

Jungkook grabs your ass in both hands and massages the fatty flesh like he owns it, giving you one final spank to tint your skin red in the shape of his hand.

“Jungkook,” you mumble against his lips. “That was s’fucking good.”

A prideful chuckle meets your ears as Jungkook rests his head against the pillows to gaze up at you.

“Yeah? Told you we’d have fun,” he brags.

Lifting yourself off of him, you curse at the sticky mess between your legs. In one motion, you swing your leg over Jungkook’s thighs and fall down next to him with a bounce. You’ll worry about the sheets being drenched in the morning.

Jungkook grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before holding it against his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“Thanks for trying something new with me, Bams,” he says sincerely.

Your eyes meet with twin smiles. Running your fingers through his hair, you tuck a piece behind his ear and lean in to give him a final peck of gratitude.

It takes a minute for your body to stop screaming at you so you can stand. When you head for the bathroom, Usagi meows angrily from her spot just beyond the door. You coo at her and bend down to scratch under her chin.

“I’m sowwy, baby,” you apologize to the little creature.

She saunters right past you to hop on the bed and curl up next to Jungkook who’s covering his bare body with your comforter. His eyes light up when he sees her approaching and he bends down to kiss her little head repeatedly until she meows at him to stop.

You return from the bathroom in a large sleep shirt fresh from the dryer and toss a pair of equally fresh sweats to Jungkook. Both items are originally his, anyway.

He eyes you knowingly when he clocks the familiar article of clothing. His tongue clicks with a single shake of his head before he’s slipping the pants on and securing them around his hips.

“You want me to sleep on the couch like usual?” He asks with his arms behind his head.

You scoff affectionately.

“You already look pretty comfortable right there, Koo,” you retort.

“Oh, I am.” He pets Usagi dramatically as she purrs. “And Usagi wants me here, you can’t so no to her!”

“You’re right, I can’t.”

Jungkook lifts the covers so you can join him in the snuggle puddle he and your cat are partaking in. You make yourself comfortable beneath the sheets and he mirrors you, much to Usagi’s chagrin since she’s sequestered to the foot of the bed to accommodate the extra body.

It takes you all of thirty seconds to fall asleep once your head hits the pillow, and Jungkook is already halfway into dreamland himself when you do.

You wake with a pounding headache and unbelievably sore thighs. Groaning at the aches and pains, you leave your bed and attempt to walk normally even though you feel like you got fucked by a semitruck instead of your best friend. It’s a mess of stumbling feet and running into furniture corners as you groggily head to the kitchen for some pain pills.

Grabbing some for Jungkook after swallowing your own, you head back and set them along with a water bottle on your nightstand for when he wakes up.

The smell of breakfast must coax Jungkook back into the land of the living because he stumbles out from your bedroom soon after it’s ready. You laugh at the way his hair sticks up in a million directions and his eyes barely open.

“Morning, sunshine,” you sing-song.

He only greets you with a wave as he heads towards your bathroom.

When he emerges again he looks slightly more put together, at least, you can see his big, brown eyes again as he makes his way to you.

“Morning,” he says.

“Brekkie?”

You push a plate of assorted breakfast food towards him before turning around to place your own in the sink. He eats with that lovable scowl on his face which indicates you successfully cooked him a worthwhile meal.

Neither of you bring up the events which took place last night because you don’t need to, there’s no unspoken tension or uncomfortable vibes floating around. Jungkook was right when he said nothing can come between you, and as fun as it was, now everything just goes back to normal.

It does not stay normal for long.

ONE

Women are beautiful, complex, intricate beings, whose bodies and minds can do extraordinary things. Women can move mountains when they strive to and you’re proud to call yourself one.

Simultaneously, they can be dumbasses who can’t remember when their last period was.

While sitting at your desk typing up a bullshit report for some bullshit exec who can’t be bothered to read his own emails, you open the drawer on your left. It houses all your office essentials like pens, tape, paper clips, and tampons.

Your head tilts as you examine the colorful packaging you haven’t seen in a while. There seems to be a lot of them, especially since you usually run out and have to restock halfway through hell week.

Glancing up at your calendar, you count the weeks backwards and then flip it one month prior to check the exact date.

You laugh aloud to yourself, because, surely, you just forgot to mark the calendar like you always do and you don’t remember restocking the tampons after your period ended. That must be the case because there’s no way in hell you’re two weeks late. It’s simply an impossibility and abundantly more plausible that your memory is failing you rather than your body.

The skin of your lower lip is bitten raw as your eyes flit between the calendar and the menstrual products which are both staring into your soul. If they could speak, you think they’d be saying “we know what you did.”

Pushing away from your desk, you take a deep breath and decide the best course of action is to walk around the office.

Maybe seeing the inside of a bathroom stall will jog your memory of the last time you were bleeding, or passing by the kitchen will force you to recall when you last grabbed some extra candies from the community bowl.

It’s all for nought. Your excursion around the building is an utter failure, and suddenly the walls of the office feel as though they’re closing in on you.

Deciding to head home after lunch because you can’t focus anyway, you stop at the corner store by your house and grip your purse strap to stop your hands from shaking as you enter the women’s health aisle. The hundreds of pregnancy tests glare at you from their place on the shelf and you have to sink your teeth into your battered lower lip again to stop anxious tears from forming.

This must be some horrible nightmare, you tell yourself. You’re gonna wake up and realize you fell asleep at your desk because your job is just that boring. The sharp pinch you apply to your arm forces you to stop lying to yourself.

Groaning in frustration, you analyze both the brands and prices of the demonic little fortune tellers and choose two each from multiple different brands because you need to be real fucking sure.

You’re two years shy of thirty and you still feel like you’re having a teen pregnancy scare.

The woman behind the counter is smiling as she places the tests into a bag. It’s probably because she believes you’ll be ecstatic about a positive result and run straight home to tell your husband. Most women your age would be doing so, but you don’t have a husband, you have a childhood best friend who you decided to hook up with for funsies.

The abundant traffic you hit on the way home only makes your swirling whirlpool of nerves worse, and by the time you’re unlocking your apartment door and rushing to the bathroom, your lip is bleeding from how much skin you’ve ripped.

You bought six tests, like a crazy person, and so it takes a couple minutes for you to successfully pee on all of them and place them on the counter with their caps on. Setting your phone timer for three minutes, you sit on the toilet seat to wait the eternity of 180 seconds.

The anticipation eats away at your insides like sulfuric acid, and your leg bounces forcefully as though you’re going through withdrawal.

Your mind is somersaulting over itself and flopping on the ground like a fish out of water as you wonder how this is even possible. You’re on birth control, and you checked your pills before leaving work; you didn’t miss a single one.

There’s always the horror stories about the unlucky .01% of women whose contraceptives fail due to stress or poor health, but you don’t think that applies to you. Sure, you don’t join Jungkook at the gym, and work makes you wanna pull your hair out, but you feel great most days.

The timer derails your train of thought with an incessant buzz. Glancing at the counter, you reach for one of the tests with shaking hands as you pray for the right result.

Once you find the courage to actually look, your heart stops, and when you stand to see your plethora of pregnancy tests side by side, your eyes bulge from your skull.

Staring back at you like the fates themselves are three matching sets of a plus sign, two parallel lines, and the word “pregnant.”

Hands slapping against your mouth, you gasp into your palms as reality forces its way into the bathroom with you. Your eyes squeeze shut as tears break from the confines of your waterline. You shake your head a couple times, trying to get your mind files back into their rightful places. It doesn’t work, and all the papers which make up your consciousness go flying all over the place.

The cacophony of emotions on top of your disembodied mind forces your senses to scramble and discombobulate.

You’re scared, worried, sad, confused, and shocked, but somewhere inside you’re happy, too. Being a mom is a huge dream of yours and even if it’s unexpected, it’s still a dream come true.

Unfortunately, happiness is the lowest emotion on the totem pole, and your negative emotions are much closer to the surface.

Running your hands down your face, you gaze at the tests as a sob shakes through you. You brace your hands on the counter and allow yourself to cry through all of the emotions. The heavy tears drop into the sink below you one by one as you decide what to do next.

First things first, you have to tell the baby’s father.

“Fuck, he’s gonna fucking kill me.” Tipping your head back to send the loose tears back from whence they came, you blow air from your mouth and close your eyes. “He’s gonna hate me. He’s gonna lose his shit and never wanna see me again and I’m gonna —” A sob slices through your windpipe and causes your voice to break. “I’m gonna lose him.”

You hug your knees and let yourself freefall until your butt meets the tile. The floor is cold and your muscles ache from the force of your crash into the ground, but it serves as a momentary distraction from your mental anguish. The sound of your sorrow fills the space as you take heaving breaths and soak your jeans with tears. Usagi scratches at the door and the sound of her little paws calling for you breaks your heart.

Stretching towards the door, you reach and turn the doorknob just enough for it to open.

You watch fondly as your cat’s little legs carry her to your side. When she reaches you, she jumps into your lap and curls into an adorable ball of love. Fresh tears fall over the sweet affection she’s giving you, and you bend down to kiss her and rub your face in her fur.

“You’re gonna be a big sister, Usagi,” you tell her.

Eventually, you calm down enough to stand and find your phone. You don’t think you can handle Jungkook’s voice right now, so you text him to come over whenever he’s free. He replies within a few minutes saying he’s got one more meeting and then he’ll be there. You mindlessly stare at his text message as anxiety simmers in your gut. This might just be the one thing that finally comes between you two.

When Jungkook arrives you’re pacing in a trance around the living room. He unlocks the door with his key and kicks it open since his hands are full with takeout containers. Your eyes threaten to water when you realize he’s bringing you dinner without you asking.

Your best friend is thoughtful, deliberate, and so, so kind, and here you are about to shatter his world as he knows it.

At the very second his two feet step into your apartment, you scurry across the floor and throw your arms around his neck. He takes an involuntary step back and drops the bags when you barrel into him, a deep chuckle coming from his chest that you feel against your own.

“Bams?”

You manhandle the emotions trying to escape back into their cages. You want, no, need, at least one more moment with him as you are now, before everything changes forever.

His arms wrap around you on instinct, one of his hands resting on the back of your head to cradle you closer.

“Sorry,” you say as you reluctantly let go. “Rough day.”

“Well, I brought kimchi fried rice, so it can’t be that rough,” he jokes.

You fake a smile and nod in agreement before grabbing one of the containers to bring it to the kitchen. Once he places the second one down, you tap your nails against the countertop and contemplate whether or not to wait. Jungkook, clearly oblivious to your turmoil, is already moving towards the fridge to grab a drink before sitting on the couch. It’s now or never, you suppose.

Each step you take to stand across from him feels like trudging through concrete and the overwhelming anxiety is gnawing at you like a wild animal. The notion that this could be the last time you see him smiling at you or have the ability to hear him laugh is debilitating.

You click your heels once you’re opposite him on the other side of the coffee table. He raises an eyebrow at you in a silent question, but you ignore his confusion and fill your lungs with the charged air.

“I’m pregnant.”

You didn't know silence could be so deafening.

Jungkook’s cola bottle falls from his hands onto the floor with a plastic boing sound. The noise feels inappropriate for the tension of the room. His pupils are shaking as his eyes grow in size exponentially and the skin between his eyebrows creases as his lips part. Even from here you can see his mouth’s run completely dry.

You take another deep breath, but you aren’t able to stop your emotions from leaking out anymore.

“And I’m really, really scared,” you say as your voice breaks.

Jungkook immediately snaps out of his daze when he hears your tone of voice, all of his previously tense features softening as he stands to reach you.

The next thing you know, his warm hands are caressing your cheeks as he brushes the tears away.

“Hey, hey, Bambi,” he whispers. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” You cry harder at the gentle nature of his voice, like he’s worried he’ll break you if he talks too loud. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got me, alright? We’ve got each other. That's all that matters.”

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. “You thought I would be mad at you, Bams?” You nod as best you can with your face caught between his hands. Jungkook frowns deeply. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because… because my birth control fucking failed and now we’re… we’re gonna be parents and —”

“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook interrupts. “I’m the one who creampied you, Bambi.”

“Yeah, but I told you to.”

“Oh, I assure you, I would’ve asked if you hadn’t.”

Despite your current emotional state, you laugh at his explanation. Your tears slowly, but surely, subside after a few more minutes. Gripping his wrists, you remove his hands from your face and hold them instead.

“I’m still sorry,” you say quietly.

“Don’t apologize,” he responds, then tilts your chin up. “You’re gonna make me a dad, Bams. That’s nothing to apologize for.”

The sigh of relief you exhale is exuberant. A smile creeps onto your face and Jungkook mirrors the expression before a mischievous grin appears instead.

He encompasses your waist and lifts you into the air in one swoop, you screech at the sudden movement and koala him to keep yourself from falling. He giggles incessantly as he spins you both around in circles in the middle of your living room.

“Koo! Put me down!”

He obeys after a moment, but not before bending his knees to dip you down towards the floor. You squeal until a fit of laughter overtakes you as he slowly brings you both back up to his full height.

“I’m so happy, Bams, you have no idea,” he tells you wholeheartedly.

Once the laughter subsides, you inhale fondly and caress his jaw with one of your hands.

“Me, too,” you admit.

A full blown bunny smile greets you and Jungkook nuzzles his nose against yours, making you giggle and blush a rosy pink hue. When your feet are on the earth again, you head for the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you with a hand to your forearm.

“Can I…” Jungkook begins to ask, his eyes glancing towards your stomach.

“Can you what, Koo?”

“Can I, ya know, touch?”

Looking down at your stomach, which is still identical to its normal size, you raise an eyebrow at him, but find yourself nodding yes anyway.

He giggles delightfully and places his palm over your abdomen, where soon enough you’ll have a baby bump.

“Man, this is fucking awesome.” You find yourself chuckling at his excitement over literally nothing at all yet. “Can I come to your doctor’s appointments?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to go to them without you,” you answer. “I still have to make the first one. I only took the tests a couple hours ago.”

“Were you alone?” He’s frowning as he asks, regret evident in his tone.

“Usagi was there.”

Jungkook scoffs, chuckling knowingly as he shakes his head and follows you into the kitchen.

You eat together as though you didn’t just deliver life alternating news. Which honestly, is the only outcome that ever would’ve come to fruition. Perhaps the staggering emotions of finding out you’re pregnant made you forget just how much you two love and care for each other. Your friendship is backed by nearly three decades of time spent together, and even something as massive as a baby can’t shake that foundation.

What might shake the foundation of a house is the screams of joy your mothers are going to let out when you tell them. They’ve been begging you for a shared grandchild since you graduated college.

Jungkook is supportively holding your hand as you two stand on the front porch of your house, which is conveniently down the street from his house, because that’s just how close your parents are. You can’t blame them, you’re sure you and Jungkook will be the same one day, especially now.

The memories of your childhood are flooding through your mind while you stand in the familiar location. It gets you thinking about all the new memories you’ll make with your own child one day.

Releasing the tension from your neck, you nod at Jungkook to let him know you’re ready. He returns the gesture and lets go of your hand to knock on the door. Unsurprisingly, it’s his mother’s face who comes into view from the other side of the screen door.

“Oh, Kookie! What are you two doing here?” She asks cheerfully.

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Jungkook asks as he hugs her.

“Oh, you know I practically live here.”

You laugh, knowing how right she is, and give her a big, bear hug. Her comforting presence always eases your anxieties, especially now when you’re worried about their reaction to your news.

She guides you through the house as though it’s her own and leads you into the kitchen where your mom is cooking dinner. You greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek as she stirs the pot on the stove. Jungkook follows suit, resting his head on her shoulder as he hugs her side.

Your mom tells you she’s nearly done and to go sit. She joins you a few minutes later after turning the stove off and removing the food from the heat.

“Seriously, kids, what did you come all this way for?” Jungkook’s mom asks once you’re all sitting around the kitchen table.

“It’s not that far,” you say.

“No, but you two never show up unannounced like this,” your mom states.

“We have something to tell you,” Jungkook says.

His hand finds yours under the table and gives it a comforting squeeze, out of the eyesight of your mothers. Your petrified eyes flicker towards him, but he just nods and smiles reassuringly at you. You lick your lips and sit up as a way of giving yourself a moment of reprieve before you change the entire atmosphere of the home.

“I’m pregnant,” you announce. “We’re having a baby.”

“WE?” They scream in unison.

You instantly lose all their attention. They’re too busy screaming like school girls while clasping their hands together and shaking them in excitement. You and Jungkook share a sideways glance and have to suppress a laugh.

“When did this happen? How long have you been dating?” Your mom asks.

Both your faces pale at her question, not thinking far enough ahead to prepare for these types of inquiries.

“Um, we’re not,” you tell her.

“What do you mean, you’re not? How did you get pregnant then?”

Jungkook awkwardly clears his throat and messes with the collar of his shirt as tension fills the room. Never in a million years did you think you’d be talking about your and Jungkook’s sexscapades with your moms.

“We just hooked up, a one time thing,” you answer.

“So, you’re not together?” His mom wonders. You both shake your heads, hating the look of disappointment that crosses their features. “Are you gonna try?”

“Maybe… maybe one day, Mom,” Jungkook answers. “But right now we just wanna focus on being the best parents we can be.”

They reluctantly accept his answer before moving onto all the nitty gritty details like asking when your next appointment is, if you’re going to find out the gender, etc.

The four of you eat dinner together but unfortunately, your dads are away on a fishing trip together, so you don’t get to tell them the news tonight. Your moms promise to relay their reactions to you through the phone upon their return.

With your parents out of the way, your friends are up next to bat, but you don’t expect that announcement to go as well as this one.

Your first gynecologist appointment is the following week, and you and Jungkook both take the day off from work so you can go together. It’s pretty nerve wracking, but you’re mostly excited to see the first ultrasound pictures of your little peanut.

Jungkook drives you to the appointment in his black Mercedes Benz and it lowkey makes you feel like his knocked up sugar baby. He didn’t grow up with money, so he’s still humble, but he definitely enjoys splurging on his choice of car, if anything. It’s certainly not a bad thing to be having a kid with someone who’s financially well off, but you hate taking advantage of Jungkook’s wealth even when he offers.

He reverses the car into a parking spot, his arm moving to the headrest behind you as he looks over his shoulder to fit in the space. Upon exiting the car, you come around the hood where Jungkook is waiting for you with his hand out. You take it without a second thought and lace his fingers with yours as you walk into the dauntingly large medical building together.

Your foot rapidly taps against the elevator as it inches up to the third floor. When the doors open after what feels like an eternity, the office can only be described as a haven for expecting mothers.

Everywhere in sight there are women with swollen bellies of varying degrees, most of them accompanied by their doting partners. As you scan the room, you notice one thing in common with almost all of them; they all have big, shiny rings on their fingers.

You pout instinctually, green envy coating your insides. It’s not as though you’ve been hunting for a husband, it’s honestly been the last thing on your mind, but you’d be lying if you said you aren’t jealous they have spouses and you have a baby daddy. You love Jungkook, more than anything in the world, and there isn’t anyone else you can imagine having a kid with, but it’s not the same as these men and women looking at their pregnant partners like they hung the stars in the sky.

Jungkook notices your unintentional scowl and tugs on your hand to grab your attention. He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shake your head and proceed towards the reception desk.

“Hi, an appointment under Jeon,” you tell the woman behind the desk. You hear Jungkook make a noise of curiosity from beside you. “Figured we should do everything under the baby’s last name, it’s simpler that way.”

“The baby’s gonna have my last name?”

His eyes sparkle with wonder and your heart soars.

“Yeah, you’re the dad, Koo.”

“I know, but I thought since we aren’t together —”

“No,” you cut him off. “It’s baby Jeon, a hundred percent.”

He smiles so big his eyes disappear and his bunny teeth make an appearance. You roll your eyes affectionately before turning your attention back to the receptionist as she hands you a clipboard with some paperwork to complete.

Both of you have to call your respective mothers at one point while filling out the extensive medical history forms. Once the twenty or so pages are complete, Jungkook returns it to the receptionist before joining you again in the waiting room. You sit with identical bouncing knees as the minutes tick by in heavy anticipation.

When your name is finally called, the two of you leap up and hurry over to the nurse who’ll lead you to the observation room.

They take some vitals, draw your blood for the formal pregnancy test, and go over the paperwork, getting the more mundane, administrative details out the way before handing you a gown and instructing you to lay down for the ultrasound.

Jungkook excitedly rubs his palms together and stomps his feet when the nurse leaves and you get ready to see your baby for the first time.

Ever the gentleman, he looks everywhere but at you as you strip to put the gown on, which is so adorable you almost combust. He put a baby in you and yet he’s respectful enough to look away when you undress in front of him, what a fucking doll.

Your feet tap an unknown melody against the stirrups as you wait and Jungkook scrolls on his phone absentmindedly. The doctor alerts you with a short knock before opening the door and popping her head in.

“Hi, you guys,” she greets you. She shakes Jungkook’s hand and then yours before rolling a stool over to sit between your legs. “How are you both doing?”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Good, good,” she smiles. “So, great news, you are indeed pregnant! Based on your hormone levels it looks like you’re about eight weeks along.”

Even though you know the exact date and time your baby was conceived, the sensual moment permanently etched into your memory, and it’s impossible to be anything else besides divine intervention, you still sigh in relief over everything lining up as it should.

“Before we get to the ultrasound, I just want to go over a couple things that I always do with new parents, alright?”

“Sure,” you agree with a smile.

“Okay, we won’t be discussing labor and delivery until you’re a little farther along because there’s a lot to take in at first and it can be pretty overwhelming,” she explains. “I just want to make sure you both are in a good place, have everything you need from me, and availability to any resources you may need during this time.” She looks at you expectantly and you nod your head to convey you understand. “Alright, so tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

You gesture towards Jungkook and he points to his chest with his hand. When you nod, he clears his throat and sits up straighter.

“Hi, Jungkook, she calls me Koo,” he starts. “I’m a head video game designer and have a house just outside the city. I have a Doberman named Bam. I box in my free time… not sure what else you need to know.”

“No, that’s great,” she reassures him. She turns her attention to you.

“I’m Y/N, but he calls me Bambi, and don’t ask, we can’t remember why,” you laugh. “I’m an administrative assistant and rent an apartment in the city and have a munchkin cat named Usagi. In my free time I read, mostly.”

“So, you two don’t live together?” You both shake your heads. “Are you exes, just haven’t moved in together yet, something else?”

“Best friends,” you tell her. Then, because it’s confusing for most people that you’re pregnant with your best friend’s baby, you continue. “We decided to have some fun one night and now we’re gonna be having fun together for the next 18 years.”

She laughs lightheartedly at your story.

“Alright, I like the sound of that. You’re supposed to be going through this with your best friend, anyway,” she says. “How long have you known one another?”

“I was strapped in a baby carrier to my mom’s chest in the hospital room while she was being born,” Jungkook states.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah,” you add.

“Well, that’s great, you two! You’ve got a long history together and that can only make for wonderful teamwork.”

There are some more details you discuss regarding the first trimester and the vitamins you’ll be taking. You go over the common symptoms for this time frame and how best to remedy them. Once that’s settled, she finally pulls out the ultrasound machine and you get jittery just from the sight. You’re so eager to see your baby and when Jungkook joins you by your side, he radiates the same energy. He’s sitting to your left now and you bend your arm up to hold his hand. Jungkook smiles at your actions and clasps his hand around yours with a tight squeeze.

Jumping when you feel the cool gel on your skin, you ignore the novel sensation and wait impatiently for the image of your baby to appear on the monitor.

Before you see anything, a steady, rhythmic thumping plays throughout the room.

You and Jungkook gasp in unison.

“And that’s a heartbeat,” the doctor says with a big smile.

Jungkook rests his head on yours and your free hand wraps around to tousle his hair affectionately.

The visual on the screen doesn’t make much sense at first, but then the doctor pauses her movements along your abdomen and clicks the keyboard to take some still shots.

“So, this is your baby,” she says while pointing to the small peanut shape amongst all the black and white fuzziness. “They’re about the size of a kidney bean right now.”

“A kidney bean!” Jungkook cheers. “How flippin’ cute.”

You giggle while glancing back at him. His starry eyes are shining and glossy while he admires the monitor showing him his future child.

“Are you two going to find out the gender? That will happen at your twelve-week follow up.”

“No, we’re gonna keep it a surprise,” you answer.

“Great choice, it’s always so fun that way.”

She points out a couple more things on the ultrasound before turning the machine off and printing the pictures she took, making sure to print two copies so you and Jungkook can each have one.

When you peek at him once the doctor leaves so you can get dressed, he’s staring at the photos while his thumb gently traces over the shiny paper right where your baby is. You feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes, but keep them under control with a sniffle and scrunch of your nose.

TWO

You have two main friend groups, one which is mutual with Jungkook, consisting of six other guys and three girls besides yourself, and another group of all girls, four of them in addition to you. Sometimes you mix the groups, and they all get along just fine, some better than others, wink wink, but usually you see them on separate occasions.

Tonight is monthly wine night with your girls, which, of course, you won’t be partaking in, although you plan on faking it.

You’re unsure about telling your friends just yet. It’s been nice having this sweet little secret just between you and Jungkook, thoroughly enjoying the whispers of excitement you share as you admire your miniature baby bump together. Of course, that enthusiasm is shared between you and your mothers who message you daily for updates.

The bump forming over your womb isn’t noticeable in the slightest unless you’re wearing something abhorrently tight, and even then, you look bloated at best. So, you can easily get away with hiding your little bundle of joy for a few more weeks.

It’s a fact the girls will be absolutely ecstatic for you and completely supportive, so it’s not fear holding you back. Maybe judgment? The circumstances of your pregnancy are far from ordinary and you don’t want a lecture from anyone regarding your questionable choices. Your friends adore Jungkook, since they’ve known him as long as they’ve known you, and they’re fully aware of how wonderful he is, but being a friend and being a father are two very different things and it wouldn’t be totally unreasonable for them to have doubts.

Grabbing some wine to pass from the corner store, you drive to Nayeon’s place just up the road. The five of you rotate hosts monthly and tonight is her night. You won’t have the pleasure of hosting again for another four months since your turn was last month. You’re bringing wine along to keep suspicions to a minimum, and you plan on filling your glass with some sparkling grape juice you also snagged.

When you arrive, Jihyo and Mina are standing by their cars cackling at something on their phones. As you exit and lock your car with a click, you wave and approach the laughing banshees with a smile.

Their faces shine bright when they see you and enthusiastically return the wave.

“Bitch, it’s only been a month and I missed you so fucking much,” Mina cries as she pulls you in for a crippling hug.

“Are you drunk already?” You question due to her out of character language and how she’s slumping against you.

“Nooo.”

“Don’t worry, I drove her here,” Jihyo, ever the mom friend, assures you.

You enter Nayeon’s apartment as a trio, her door already unlocked for the occasion, as you update each other on surface level things like work and hobbies.

Nayeon and Tzuyu are in the kitchen with a glass of wine already in hand while they gossip about something. You know they’re gossiping because their expressions are dramatically shuffling through different emotions like shock, confusion, and disgust.

They wave excitedly when they notice your entrance and quickly finish their conversation before joining you.

Jihyo places Mina delicately on the couch and instructs her to stay still so she can grab her a glass of water. You follow Jihyo into the kitchen, peering over your shoulder at your other friend who’s now lackadaisically swaying side to side.

“Ji, why is Mina drunk off her ass right now?”

Jihyo sighs as she grabs a cup and glances towards the living room to visually check on the topic of your conversation.

“Her and Mingyu broke up.”

“No!” You gasp, your hands covering your mouth in disbelief. “Did he dump her?”

“She won’t tell me! She just sits on my bed and cries for hours.”

Jihyo and Mina are roommates, but Mina has been hoping to move in with Mingyu for a while now and was merely waiting for him to ask.

“Oh no, my poor girl.”

“I’m hoping tonight will help and maybe she’ll finally open up about what happened,” Jihyo says. “You wanna try my wine?”

“Oh, no, I’ve got my own,” you tell her and show off the bottle of fake alcohol you peeled the label off of.

She recognizes your answer with a nod before heading back to Mina. By the time you return with her water she’s relaying the information to Nayeon and Tzuyu through tears and slurred sentences.

You hug Tzuyu from behind and she warmly wraps her arms around your own to reciprocate the affection. After repeating the embrace with Nayeon, you take a seat on her armchair and pour the grape juice into the wine glass she left out for you.

The five of you update each other like always, since that’s the main purpose of these get-togethers. It’s your sacred time to dive into the messy and dirty details of your lives over the last month.

Mina is unanimously nominated to go first once she’s consumed a couple glasses of water to sober her up a bit. She explains how her and Mingyu, her boyfriend of nearly four years, broke up because he isn’t ready to settle down. Apparently it was mutual, but she’s still head over heels for him and is having a terrible time trying to move on.

The four of you hold her while she cries until eventually, she tires herself out, and you move on to Tzuyu.

The conversation circles through everyone until you’re finally the center of attention. There’s a piece of you that still wants to stow away your secret for a little while longer, but you’re also so excited for them to share in your joy that you can barely stand holding it in.

“Okay, so, technically this happened two wine nights ago, but I wasn’t ready to tell you guys just yet,” you begin. You suck in a breath through your teeth and take a sip of your drink even though there’s no liquid courage in the glass. “Jungkook and I hooked up.”

The gasps from your friends are so loud you think they sucked all the air from the room.

“No fucking way.”

“I freaking knew it would happen one day!”

“Oh my God?”

“Please tell me he’s got a big dick, I just know he has a big dick.”

You laugh into your glass at the multitude of different reactions before continuing. Sighing in content remembrance, you lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees.

“He’s. Fucking. Huge.”

Somehow, their gasps this time are even louder.

“No, no, you need to spill right fucking now. I want every dirty fucking detail, baby,” Nayeon says.

“There honestly isn’t that much to tell. We were watching a movie, he brought it up, it happened, bada-bing bada-boom,” you state.

“Are you two together now?” Jihyo asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “We just wanted to see what it was like, you know?”

“Bitch,” Tzuyu scoffs. “You just told us your ungodly handsome, sweet, filthy rich, jacked as fuck best friend has a huge dick and you’re gonna look at me and say it was a one time thing?”

“You guys know it’s not like that with us,” you respond. “I love him, like, with everything in me, and obviously, I know how attractive he is, but I don’t get butterflies around him or think about him first thing in the morning.” You sit back in the chair. “The love I have for him is so much greater than romantic love. I mean, never say never, but we’re both completely content with the way we are.”

“Hear hear,” Jihyo says with a clink of her nails against her glass.

Nibbling on your lip, you count the bubbles floating in your drink as you decide whether or not you’re ready for the actual reveal.

“There is… more, though,” you quietly admit. Everyone leans in and you shake your head back and forth to prepare for the biggest confession you’ll ever make to them. “I’m pregnant.”

The gasps this time are so volatile two of them start coughing and Jihyo walks her ass straight out of the room with a hand over her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Nayeon snaps.

“He knocked you up?” Mina’s drunk ass shouts.

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you… happy about that?” Tzuyu tentatively asks.

The massive grin forming on your face reveals your answer before you can give it, and you start nodding overdramatically while you giggle.

“Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” Tzuyu cheers now that she’s aware of your excitement.

“You’re gonna be a mom!” Nayeon claps.

“We’re gonna be aunts!” Mina adds.

Jihyo returns to the room with fresh tears on her cheeks.

“Ji,” you coo at her.

She hiccups out a weak chuckle as she pulls you into her for a bear hug. The other girls follow suit and surround you until the five of you are basically cuddling in the middle of Nayeon’s living room. Suddenly, someone starts jumping and the force shakes the floorboards as you all join in and chant “yay yay yay” on repeat.

The whimsicality of girlhood never fails to paint a smile on your face.

The following weekend you have plans with your other friend group. You usually rotate through a few different activities you all enjoy and tonight is karaoke, which is one of your personal favorites.

Jungkook gets ready at your place so you can eat dinner together beforehand since the food at the karaoke bar is stupidly overpriced. He never fails to remind you he can afford it and is more than willing to pay for your meal, but you don’t like using his money unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re a big girl who can pay for herself and he understands your desire for independence.

You’re at the vanity finishing your makeup when he enters with another bowl of rice he grabbed after finishing your meal. He takes up purchase on your bed and eats absentmindedly while his eyes follow the movement of your wrist coating your lashes in mascara.

The feeling of his stare creates goosebumps on your skin and an involuntary smile appears in the mirror. No doubt your foundation hides the blush springing forth as well.

“You look pretty, Bams,” he compliments.

“Thank you!”

The now empty bowl meets your nightstand with a clank as he moves to stand beside you. He leans down until you’re side by side in the mirror and gives you his cheesiest smile. You snort at his antics and continue to giggle while dropping your mascara into the pile of other makeup tools.

“Cute,” you tell him.

He smiles successfully and extends his hands towards you. You graciously accept his offer and stand to your full height. Just as you’re heading for your closet to grab shoes, Jungkook ensnares your wrist and eyes you hopefully. Raising an eyebrow at his actions, you wait for him to speak his mind.

“Can I see it?”

The eye roll is automatic at this point.

“Koo, my baby bump is not any bigger than it was a few days ago. It’s barely a bump as is! I could eat pasta and grow bigger than I am now,” you tell him.

“It doesn’t matter, I just like knowing they’re in there,” he says with a huge smile. “My little kidney bean.”

“They’re a plum now, remember?”

Jungkook just stares you down expectantly rather than responding. Begrudgingly, but still with a smile on your face, you push your jacket away so he can see the barely noticeable hump over your abdomen. He giggles, his feet taking turns leaving the floor, and places both hands on you, caressing your womb ever so gently.

“My little plum,” he sighs happily.

You're so utterly endeared by him and his nature that it makes you sick.

Once Jungkook is done holding the little plum, you leave to meet your friends at the karaoke bar.

Throughout the drive you discuss whether or not to announce the pregnancy to your friends. Jungkook knows you told the girls, and was unnecessarily smug about their interest in his size, but your mutual friends are another animal entirely.

Everyone met at one point or another during college and by graduation you’d become one massive, conjoined group of lovable idiots. All eleven of you are extremely close, even if the bonds you share are unique to each individual pair. You know things about one another no one else does and they’re always the first people you tell about good news.

Jungkook is more anxious than you about telling them, especially since he’s yet to let the cat out of the bag to anyone besides your parents. He’s the youngest among the boys and his biggest fear is disappointing them. Not that they would be, because even though they're a group of seven men, they’re the kindest people in the world, but Jungkook’s always been sensitive about their opinion of him because he idolizes them so much.

By the time you reach the bar you’ve mutually agreed to hold off for now and proceed to exit the car together. Jungkook instinctively places his hand on your lower back as you walk in and a hostess tells you which room your friends occupy.

Upon opening the door to the private karaoke suite, you’re met by the booming sound of cheers from all nine people packed inside. Everyone rises from their seats to hug you one by one before letting you settle into the couch across from the karaoke machine and mini stage.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Yunjin asks you as she takes the seat to your right.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are already flipping through the songbook next to the stage for the perfect opening song.

“Can’t, I’m Koo’s designated driver for tonight,” you tell her.

“We’re gonna be here for hours like always, you should have one, at least,” she says.

“Maybe,” you say with an appreciative smile.

Lying to the people you love most isn’t exactly easy, especially when you already suck at it, but Yunjin seems to take you at your word and returns her focus to the opposite side of the room.

The opening beats of an R&B song fill the air and you turn your attention to the three jackals on stage as they belt their hearts out together. You admire them with a massive grin and are thoroughly impressed by how they manage to make complete fools of themselves while still hitting all the notes.

The other girls join you sometime during the bridge, Chaewon taking the empty seat by you while Eunchae goes next to Yunjin. Eunchae tells everyone she got a promotion at work, so you clink your glasses together to cheer for her, yours being filled with cola instead of alcohol.

“Here, try my drink, it’s so good!” Chaewon says as she passes the glass to you. You shake your head and tell her the same lie you told Yunjin. Unfortunately, Chaewon is less forgiving than your other friend. “It’s just a sip, girliepop!”

You shoot her a warning glance, and luckily, the two other women are distracted by Namjoon and Jin’s soulful duet on stage. Due to your decade long friendship, you and Chaewon share the unique ability to speak without any words, and your silent conversation goes something like this.

You, glaring at her with your head tilted. Don’t.

Her, sitting back a little with her eyebrows raised. Bitch?

You, nodding minutely a couple times. Yup.

Her, eyes wide with a hand on her chest. You’re pregnant?

You, nodding while staring her down. Can you fucking believe it?

Her, brow creasing and slowly shaking her head. Who the fuck is the dad?

You, holding up a hand to block the view from the others while pointing at Jungkook who’s sitting across the room. Jungkook.

Her, hand over her mouth, eyes bulging out of her head. You’re fucking joking!

So, that’s how Chaewon finds out, and your final signal to her is your pointer finger pressing against your lips so she knows this is still a massive secret.

Jungkook and Taehyung take the stage next, and they’re always an entertaining pair, so you both pay close attention. It’s debatable whether that was a good decision, because the rest of you end up with aching cramps from the intense fits of laughter. You're all desperately clutching your stomachs as the two of them jump around and sing in each other’s faces to a song that does not call for that type of choreography. You’re 99% sure it’s a breakup song from a K-Drama.

You’re still wiping the tears from your eyes when Eunchae speaks up breathlessly.

“God, I don’t know why, but this reminds me of when the boys performed in the university talent show,” she states.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that,” Yunjin responds.

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” Jimin says as he sits next to Yunjin.

“Don’t you remember? You guys wore those hockey jerseys and covered that 90s song,” you tell him. “It was so good!”

Jin nods from the other side of the couch and starts laughing as he remembers the performance.

“That was so long ago! I remember it being super fun, though,” he says.

“Please don’t bring that up, that was the most embarrassing day of my life,” Yoongi groans.

“Oh please, Min, you secretly loved it,” Chaewon teases him.

You gasp when you realize it’s definitely still stored somewhere in your phone. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you scoot over so Jungkook can sit next to you while you scroll through your camera roll from almost ten years ago. Taehyung joins you and leans over Jungkook’s shoulder to see as well.

“Found it!” You squeal.

Unable to resist reliving the memory, everyone gathers behind you to watch. Your previous fits of laughter make a gnarly comeback as you marvel at the younger versions of them dancing and singing their little hearts out. They look like babies in comparison and it makes you swoon.

“That was literally another lifetime,” Namjoon says once the video is done playing.

“Man, we were so fucking cool,” Hoseok states proudly.

“Jungkook, you should wear your hair like that again,” Yunjin says. “You looked fucking hot.”

“Fuck yeah he did, rumor has it Kook lost his virginity that night,” Taehyung jokes as he squeezes Jungkook’s bicep.

“Yo! Shut the hell up, I lost my virginity in high school,” Jungkook retorts. He takes a swig of his drink and chuckles against the glass. “It was the first time I fucked raw, though.”

“Clearly not the last,” you say under your breath.

Jungkook turns to you with his eyes bugging out and you have to stifle your laugh with your hand. Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you gain control of your laughter and whisper a halfhearted apology to him.

“Ok, girlies, let’s fuck this shit up,” Chaewon annonces.

Yunjin and Eunchae both chug the last of their drinks before grabbing each of your hands so you can take the stage together. You diligently flip through the songbook to find the perfect one while the guys converse about a recent video game release. Gasping when you spot a familiar song title, you point to the page and eye the girls with a mischievous smirk.

“Wait, don’t we know the dance for this?” Yunjin asks.

You and Eunchae nod together.

“Oh, we are gonna leave these men fucking gagged,” Chaewon states before plugging the selection into the karaoke machine.

Chaewon hits the nail on the head, because as soon as the song begins and you start shaking your asses like a bonafide girl group, the men go insane. The seven of them act like they’re your biggest stans who paid for a ticket just to see this.

Hoseok and Jimin stand to the right of the stage throwing invisible money over you all, while Taehyung and Jungkook are sitting on the end couch spanking the air back and forth. Yoongi is covering his eyes with his hand while he shakes his head, but he’s still peeking at your performance between his fingers. Namjoon is bent over with his elbows on his knees and his hands under his chin like he’s trying to analyze the way your asses bounce. Jin stands with a glass in each hand as he dances along and screams your names in a repeating chant at the top of his lungs.

When you finish the show stopping performance, all of them are almost as breathless as you from cheering so much.

“Fuck, why am I hard right now?”

“That was spectacular.”

“You guys were so good!”

“I think I just came.”

“Amazing, bravo.”

“Encore!”

“Remind me why we’re all just friends?”

All four of you are panting as you hop off the stage and attempt to slow your racing heartbeats. Jimin notices you don’t have a drink and goes to hand his glass of vodka cranberry to you.

“Here, you look like you could use this.”

Just as you’re about to wave him off and reject his offer, Chaewon interrupts.

“Y/N can’t have alcohol,” she states.

Eyes blowing wide, you glare and wordlessly scold her with your facial expressions, throwing your hands up incredulously for good measure. Poor Jungkook looks like a deer in headlights since you didn’t get the chance to tell him she knows.

“Why not?” Yoongi asks from across the table.

“Are you okay? Nothing’s wrong, right?” Yunjin adds.

“No, no,” you answer with a nonchalant wave of your hand. “Just this new medication I’m on.”

“Which one? Prenatal vitamins?” Eunchae jokes as she takes a drink. Your lip catches between your teeth as you look at her with wide, worrisome eyes. Her expression shifts into shock when she notices your face over the rim of her glass. “Holy fuck, I was joking. Y/N, are you pregnant?”

“Um… yes?”

The eight people in the room who weren’t previously aware inhale simultaneously to berate you with questions, but are all stopped short by Taehyung speaking first.

“Who the fuck put a baby in you?”

Gnawing on your lip as your mind scrambles for an answer, your eyes flit to Jungkook for support, but his face is paler than a ghost. You reluctantly accept your fate and sigh in defeat.

“J… Ju… Jungkook did.”

All hell breaks loose.

You’re fighting off Eunchae, Yunjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok with your hands up in surrender as you vigorously shake your head back and forth. Jungkook is slowly sinking into his seat with his arms out in defense as Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi descend on him like a pack of ravenous wolves. Everyone’s screaming voices are louder than any of the singing tonight and if someone took a picture of the room it could only be classified as a goddamn renaissance painting.

Once the initial shock wears off and Jungkook finally comes to his senses, he shakes his head to collect his thoughts and stands up.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up! My bun is in that oven and I don’t need you assholes stunting their growth with your screaming,” he shouts.

“Oh, please don’t refer to me as an oven, Koo,” you grimace.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Bams.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Hey!” Eunchae interrupts you. “Lovebirds, you wanna fucking tell us how you got knocked up?”

Jungkook clears his throat.

“Well, Eunnie, you see, when a mommy and daddy love each other very mu — AH!”

Jungkook’s mock explanation is cut short by him ducking to avoid the couch pillow Eunchae chucks at his head.

“Be fucking for real, Jeon. Why is your demon spawn in my best friend?”

“Hey, don’t talk about our little plum like that,” Jungkook frowns.

“Little plum?” Jimin and Taehyung speak in unison.

Jungkook sighs dreamily before responding.

“That’s how big they are right now.”

“It just happened!” You state. “We just fucked for shits and gigs and now we’re here.”

“You let Jungkook come in you for shits and gigs?” Hoseok asks with his signature face of judgement.

The implications of his tone make you pout and cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes, and it was very enjoyable, thank you very much.”

“Oh, ew.”

“For real?”

“Ah, fuck no.”

Chaewon fake gags with a finger in her mouth.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon steps into the center of the room. “How is this gonna work? Are you two gonna co-parent? Switch off houses every other week?”

“I… don’t know,” you answer honestly before looking at Jungkook. He shrugs with his arms out, clearly just as clueless about those details as you. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Are you gonna find out the gender?” Chaewon asks excitedly, but you quickly shake your head and she frowns. “How am I supposed to get my future niece or nephew the perfect gift if I don’t know their gender?”

“Gender neutral?” You suggest.

You hear Jin exhale overdramatically and when you look towards him he’s downing a shot and slamming the glass down afterwards.

“What the fuck is going on?” He shakes his head and his lips make a horse-like noise. “I mean, we’re talking about Jungkook and Y/N having a baby… a motherfucking child.”

“Yeah, and they’re gonna be the best parents ever,” Yoongi states wholeheartedly.

Yoongi finds your eyes across the room, his adorable gummy smile on full display, and reaffirms his words with a nod. You return the smile gratefully, thanking him with a slow blink as you hold his eye contact.

“Are you alright? I mean, like, you’re good?” Yunjin asks you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, especially now that you guys know.”

“What about you, Kook?” Taehyung asks from where he sits beside him.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder at his friend, the biggest, bunniest grin imaginable on his face.

“I’m fucking ecstatic,” he answers.

Jimin takes two large strides and hugs Jungkook’s head to his chest, ruffling his hair affectionately. Hoseok joins in next, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks between his hands and giving him adorable fish lips.

“Our Jungkookie is gonna be a dad!” Hoseok coos in his best baby voice.

Your attention is pulled away by Yunjin’s hand on your lower back. She smiles when you turn around and pulls you into a powerful embrace which you reciprocate. Eunchae and Chaewon join the hug and you rest your head on Chaewon’s shoulder. You know how hard she is on herself whenever she screws up, and this is your way of letting her know it’s alright.

When you part, you feel a tug on your hand, and before you know it Jungkook is bringing you into his lap. You giggle as he tucks you into his chest and nuzzles his face in your neck.

There’s a brief moment where it feels as though it’s just you and him, and it’s more needed than you even realized. Jungkook’s recognizably warm presence calming you down after the hectic atmosphere of the room took you for a loop.

Everyone moseys around to take a seat as the adrenaline from the news simmers. The eleven of you actually do some catching up rather than just singing and drinking, and eventually smaller faction conversations happen all around the table.

You stay on Jungkook’s lap the rest of the night with his hand resting on the outside of your thigh to keep you against him.

It’s abnormal behavior for you two, usually keeping a rather firm boundary of friendship, the time you conceived a child together aside, but you don’t question it. Maybe it’s the child in your womb wanting to be close to their father or perhaps the uptick in hormones skewing your regular emotional landscape. Either way, Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind your weight on him and neither do you.

By the time the clock strikes two in the morning, and you’ve all gone a couple more rounds on the karaoke machine, your head is resting on Jungkook’s shoulder as you flicker in and out of consciousness. He soothingly rubs your spine with his hand, making sure to add more pressure to your lower back where it’s been hurting ever since becoming pregnant. Curling into him more in response, you push your face into his neck and hum contently at the familiar scent and warmth.

“You tired, Bams?” He whispers to you, moving some hair away from your face. You answer with a single nod, your eyes already closing again from the heaviness of sleep. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jungkook helps you stand, and you hug all your friends goodbye one by one. Everyone congratulates you both again while also threatening to show up to your homes univinted unless you update them on your progress between hangouts.

Jimin changes your group chat name that very night to: Baby Jeon Official Updates Channel 💦🤭👶🏻💕

You and Jungkook leave hand-in-hand, mostly because he has to keep you upright from how tired you are. He drives back to his place since it’s closer and he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you alone when you’re this sleepy. God forbid you accidentally fall asleep on Usagi and crush her all night long. The car ride is brief, but it’s smooth enough that you fall asleep in the passenger seat almost instantly.

Jungkook carries you inside instead of waking you up, knowing you need more rest nowadays than usual. Although, if he’s being honest, pregnant with his child or not, he’d still carry you and tuck you into bed.

When you wake up in Jungkook’s spare bedroom/home office the next morning, you’re thoroughly confused, but as your sleepiness begins to wane you remember the end of the night and the events which led you here. The smell of pancakes encourages you to walk down the stairs to Jungkook’s kitchen. You’re still wrapped in his comforter when you enter and Jungkook laughs as you approach him like the Queen of bedtime.

“Morning, Bambi,” he greets you as he flips the final pancake onto the plate and turns off the griddle.

“Good morning,” you say with a tired smile.

Just then, the sound of trampling paws comes barreling towards you. Smiling broadly as you turn towards the sound, you bend down to greet the adorable Doberman who’s wagging his tail in excitement at seeing you.

“Bammie!” You cheer as you pet behind his ears. “Oh, I’ve missed you, my good boy.”

He runs around your legs a couple times before scurrying across the hardwood to bring you a bone to throw. You happily oblige him and watch in amusement as he runs away to fetch it before plopping on the couch to gnaw on the toy.

“Come eat, Bams,” Jungkook tells you as he sets two plates on his dining table.

Following his orders, you leave the comforter over the back of the couch and sit across from him to eat the eggs, pancakes, and bacon he made for you both. You eat in comfortable silence for a while until you’re both nearly done.

“Koo, I’m sorry about last night. Chaewon guessed it and then her big mouth spilled the beans. I know it wasn’t the way we wanted it to happen, but at least it’s over with, right?”

“It’s alright,” Jungkook responds before gulping down his orange juice. “I’m glad we finally did it and now everyone knows. Plus, it got me thinking about some stuff I hadn’t really thought about yet.”

“Like what?”

“Well, about what Namjoon hyung said,” he explains. “I mean, he makes a really good point. I want our kid to have a normal family life even if we’re just best friends and not romantic partners.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“I think you should move in with me.”

You choke on your orange juice.

Truthfully, there isn’t anything shocking about his statement, you just weren’t expecting it at that moment. Jungkook has a three bedroom, two and a half bath house which he owns, while you rent a one bedroom apartment. He’s been begging you ever since he bought the property to move into his spare bedroom. The two of you spend almost all your time together anyway and he doesn’t see the point in you wasting money on rent when his house is completely paid off.

The reason you haven’t accepted his offer before is because you never want to take advantage of his wealth or be a burden on him. Being best friends is one thing, being roommates is another.

Now, though, you have a biological right to be a burden on him because he stuck a baby in you.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

“Of course I am,” he replies in a heartbeat. “I thought about it all last night and it only makes sense. I have two extra bedrooms, one for you and one for the baby.”

“But what about your home office and your gym?”

“I can move my gym equipment to the garage and my desk can easily fit in my bedroom.” You sigh and push your fork around your plate as you contemplate his proposal. “Bams, you’re gonna be the mother of my child, will you just let me take care of you for once?”

As soon as you look into his starry eyes, you know there’s no chance you’ll say no. Jungkook obviously wants to do this because he loves you and wants to make sure you and the baby have everything you need, so who are you to say no?

“Okay,” you agree. “When should I move in?”

THREE

The cardboard box in your hands is slowly slipping from your grasp as you ascend the stairs, but you’re determined to make it to the top before readjusting. You have to reach the landing before Jungkook catches you. If he sees you disobeying his instruction of sitting still, he’ll definitely blow a gasket.

You don’t know what it is with men and thinking pregnant women can’t do anything themselves. It’s still only the first trimester, and sure, your bump has grown some more, but you aren’t completely useless.

Honestly, if you weren’t so stubborn, you would’ve taken his offer of moving all the boxes into the house by himself, but your competitive nature has you lugging a box of cat toys up the stairs instead.

“Bambi! What did I fucking say?”

Dropping the box by your feet only three steps from the top, you blow your hair away from your face and place your hands on your hips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook. I do what I want.”

“You wanna look me in the eyes when you say that?”

“… No.”

“That’s what I thought.” The sound of his combat boots coming up the stairs is all you hear as he moves to steal the box from your feet. Once it’s secure in his arms, he looks at you like a teacher scolding their student and gestures to the couch with his head. “Go sit down.”

“I’m not incapable, you know?” You say with your arms crossed.

“I know that, Bams,” Jungkook states. “It’s not about that. I lift more than this in a single workout at the gym. Why should you have to do it when I’m perfectly capable?”

He’s right. You know that, he knows that, so you leave him alone on the steps to sit down on the couch with a huff.

Bam quickly joins you and lays his head in your lap as he watches his dad move back and forth through the house with curious eyes. Scratching behind his ear, you laugh at the way his tail repeatedly whacks the couch as it wags.

Usagi is still in her carrier in your new bedroom since you want to make sure everything is moved in before introducing her and Bam. You and Jungkook both agree that if they get in a fight, it’s her little munchkin ass who will be the main aggressor, especially since Bam is scared of his own shadow.

Once Jungkook’s done moving the last of the boxes, he flops aggressively into the armchair next to the couch. He pats his thigh and Bam instantly leaves your side to jump into his lap instead. Jungkook leans down to kiss his precious pup before letting his head fall back as he tries to catch his breath.

“Perfectly capable, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re getting old, Koo. Soon you’re gonna be a dad and you’ll have a beer gut —”

“Nuh uh, never gonna happen. I’ll have my abs until the day I die,” he corrects you.

“Please, no you will not. You think you’re gonna be hitting the gym at 80?” You ask as you lean forward in your seat.

“Yes. My love comes from my abs, I can’t lose them,” he states.

The couch cushion indents where your head falls against it as you laugh heartily.

“What? Your love comes from your abs? What the hell does that even mean?”

“Everyone I meet loves my abs, so now they’re just like, full of love, and that’s where it comes from,” he explains unironically.

“Everyone? I don’t think that’s true,” you say with a smirk.

“No?” Jungkook gently guides Bam away and struts over to you. “You’re gonna look at me and tell me you don’t love my abs? That if I took my shirt off right now you wouldn’t go all googly-eyed?”

“Fuck, no,” you scoff.

Jungkook clicks his tongue and then lifts his shirt to engulf you under the fabric. You screech and shove at his waist, kicking your legs haphazardly like you’re being suffocated.

“Let me out of here!” You scream, but it’s severely muffled by the fabric.

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I can’t hear you,” Jungkook teases. “Ow!”

Jungkook immediately frees you and backs away after he feels your teeth sinking into his side. He rubs over the bite mark with a big pout on his face, as if he didn’t start this little charade.

You mock his expression for a moment before standing to go up the stairs and check on your furry child. Jungkook follows begrudgingly, letting his feet drag along the floor like a petulant child. When you enter your new bedroom, conveniently right beside Jungkook’s, Usagi starts meowing incessantly and scratching at her carrier. You soothe her with some baby speak and check that the door is closed before letting her out. Her little legs immediately bring her to the floor so she can explore the unfamiliar room.

She meows every couple of seconds whenever she encounters something new and you watch as she headbutts everything in sight as a way of marking the furniture with her scent. Ironically, this is all the same furniture from your old bedroom just in a different space and formation.

Hands wrap around your waist from behind and you sigh at the feeling of Jungkook’s firm chest meeting your back. Obviously, he’s forgiven you for your little retaliatory love bite.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Bams,” he tells you from where his head rests on your shoulder.

Your hand reaches behind you to sneak into his hair and scratch at his scalp affectionately. He hums and rests his cheek against your shoulder. You’d argue he picked up the mannerisms from his dog, but he’s always been touchy like this.

“I’m happy to be here,” you reply. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Those words no longer apply the following day when you’re hunched over Jungkook’s toilet and spilling your guts into the bowl.

It’s a great unknown why morning sickness is called that when it happens at all hours of the freaking day. You naively believed you snuck past its clutches since you’re already on the brink of your second trimester, but apparently the wonderful symptom was just waiting until you had Jungkook’s big fancy bathroom to throw up in.

Groaning in agony, you plop back onto the tile and rest your head on the cabinet. Your throat is burning from all the regurgitation, there are popped blood vessels all over your cheeks and forehead, making you look like you have freckles, and salty tears from the effort of repeatedly emptying your stomach are drying on your skin.

You caress your baby bump with a glare, making a mental note to scold them at least once when they’re older for putting you through this.

The sound of the front door opening makes your ears twitch. Bam’s heavy footsteps can be heard barreling towards the door and then Jungkook’s voice joins in as he greets his beloved pet.

“Bambi?”

“In here,” you say through your sore vocal chords. Jungkook’s face appears in the doorway and you whimper as tears fill your eyes again. “I fucking hate you for doing this to me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your current state and he instantly sinks to his knees to pull you into his arms. He holds your head against his chest as you cry from the pain and fatigue of running back and forth to the bathroom all day. Jungkook’s been out running errands all day so you’ve been all alone until now.

“I’m sorry, Bams,” he whispers into your hair. “Wish it was me instead.”

There’s no opportunity for you to reply because the familiar feeling of bile climbing up your throat forces you out of his embrace and back over the toilet. Jungkook grabs your hair, making sure to collect the shorter pieces that cradle your face, and holds it in a makeshift ponytail as he rubs your back.

Once you’re done, and after the sound of the toilet flushing disperses, you hear soft cries coming from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Jungkook wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve.

“Koo,” you call out to him.

He hiccups and attempts a brave face, smiling at you even as tears slip from his waterline.

“Sorry, you know I hate seeing you in pain,” he explains.

You frown and turn around to grab his cheeks, brushing the remaining tears away from them. It’s true you’re already well aware of his empathetic nature and have been for as long as you’ve known him.

“I know,” you say with a smile as you push his hair away from his face. “Remember that time I got bullied in middle school and was crying on the playground, and then you started crying because I was?” Jungkook laughs, his eyes closing as he remembers the moment. “I’ll never forget what you said.” You clear your throat so you can give an accurate representation of his voice. “I never suffer myself, Bambi, I only suffer when I see you suffering.”

Jungkook smiles big and laughs again at your adorable imitation of his deep timbre.

“You know, if we have a boy, I’m gonna have to tussle with him over this,” he says. “No one hurts my Bams, not even my own kid.”

Your responding chuckle is strained due to how sore your body is. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bring Jungkook closer for a tight hug, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt. His palm slowly moves up and down your spine in a steady cadence to soothe you until the next wave of nausea comes.

The remainder of the day is spent in the bathroom together, which is luckily spacious enough for not only you two, but Usagi and Bam who both come to join you at one point.

The nausea comes in waves, sometimes occurring multiple times back to back or alternatively with a large lapse of time between them. It holds you hostage in the bathroom for a few days, and you have to take PTO when the work week begins, but eventually the symptoms simmer to about once every couple days after your doctor prescribes medication.

Another lovely symptom you’re experiencing as of late is intense cravings for extremely specific food groups, which is why you’re currently in a screaming match with Jungkook over pickles.

“I’m not buying you pickles, Bambi,” Jungkook sternly states.

“Jungkook, you’re not the one growing a baby inside of you. If I say I want pickles, I should be getting pickles!” You shout, your feet stomping on the ground reactively.

“You fucking hate pickles!” Jungkook matches your tone.

“Yes, but pregnancy cravings don’t care about what I like or don’t like, and they’re saying they want pickles!”

“You’re not going to eat them, Bams, I know you!”

“Yes, I will!”

“You really want me to leave the house at three in the morning for a vegetable that you despise?” Jungkook scoffs in outrage. “You won’t even eat a sandwich if a pickle was on the plate because you claim you can still taste it!”

“That doesn’t matter, Koo!”

Jungkook groans and runs his hands down his face before pushing his hair back.

“I swear to God, Bambi, if I get back here, and you don’t eat that entire fucking jar, I will kick you out of this goddamn house!”

“No, you won’t, you love me too much,” you brag and stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, unfortunately, I do,” Jungkook admits angrily. He grumbles to himself the entire time he’s putting on his slides and slipping on his jacket to drive to the nearest 24 hour convenience store. His hand is on the doorknob when he turns back to say one final comment. “You know what the worst part about this is? Most guys in my position are at least getting some pussy for putting up with this shit, but not me! No reward! I’m doing this out of pure, unconditional love for you!”

You gawk at his remark, not recognizing the words coming out of his mouth. Jungkook has never in his life asked for anything in return, let alone imply you owe him a sexual favor.

The door slams shut before you can respond, and a cry breaks from your chest as your head falls forward. Bam hears the noise and comes to comfort you, nudging his head up against your leg like the good boy he is, but barely a minute later, his head jerks when he’s distracted by the sound of the door opening. You don’t even get the chance to look up completely before you’re forced into someone’s arms who smells a lot like Jungkook.

“Bams, I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Jungkook tells you.

His apology only makes you cry more, shoving your face into his shirt and soaking it with tears.

“That was so fucked up, Koo,” you sniffle.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t mean it, okay? You don’t owe me anything, Bams, especially not that.” He pulls away from you and lifts your face by your chin. “Please don’t think that I, even for a second, ever expect you to repay me for taking care of you. I do it because I love you and that’s the only reward I need.”

Wiping your tears with your shirtsleeve, you slap his chest a couple times for good measure. He chuckles because of how lightly you smack him.

“You’re forgiven,” you grumble. “Now, can you please go get me these fuckass pickles?”

Jungkook smiles and nods his head, his hand on your chin moving to caress your hair for a moment.

“I’ll buy you pickles everyday for the rest of your life if that’s what you want, Bambi,” he states.

“It isn’t. I fucking hate pickles,” you say with a smile.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your hair before waving goodbye and heading to the store. When he returns twenty minutes later, he’s carrying a couple bags of miscellaneous groceries as well as a jar of pickles.

You wait patiently for him to place the bags in the kitchen before he hands the open jar to you. The smell alone eases the craving that’s been eating away at your stomach for hours now. Grabbing one of the skewers, you pull it out of the juice and take a small bite off the end.

Instantly, your brain screams at you in disgust, and you open your mouth again to spit the piece into your hand. Realizing you now have to face Jungkook so he can say I told you so, your eyes screw shut and you turn towards him. Except, when you open your eyes, he isn’t beside you anymore, he’s walking back from the kitchen with your favorite flavor of chips in hand.

“Got these just in case,” he tells you as he swaps out the jar in your hand for the bag.

You grimace, guilt pooling in your stomach when you realize his trip out into the night was for nought.

“Koo…”

“It’s alright, Bambi. The fact that I was right makes this all worth it,” he says with a sly grin.

The chips taste like salty pieces of heaven and you eat the entire bag that night. You keep the jar of pickles for occasional sniffing because, for whatever reason, your brain loves the smell even though it hates the taste. This pregnancy is already messing with your brain chemistry more than you care to admit and it’s only the beginning.

As the weeks go on, your pregnancy continues to mess with you in the form of a different, but equally as strong, craving.

It initially hits you while you’re putting together Usagi’s new cat tower in the living room. Thankfully, she and Bam get along just fine. In fact, she’s currently lying on him while they nap together on the other side of the room.

The instructions for this contraption are annoyingly hard to understand and you’re holding the instructional pamphlet up in the air as you attempt to make out what size screw you need in the stupidly small font it’s written in.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention. As you lower the paper to see the familiar figure entering the room, your mouth suddenly dries up.

Jungkook’s coming back from his home gym which is now in the garage and the tips of his hair are drenched in sweat. His chest is rising and falling in deep pants from the intensity of his workout and the black shirt he’s wearing sticks to his chest, perfectly outlining his pecs. Then, much to your agony, he takes the bottom of his shirt and wipes it across his forehead, giving you a perfect view of his abs.

The feeling that shoots straight into your core is absolutely foreign. Sure, you know Jungkook is hot, that’s a fact of the universe no one is trying to deny. But you’ve seen him shirtless before, hell, you’ve seen him entirely naked. The bump protruding from your womb tells you that much, and yet you’ve never felt turned on by him doing something so mundane.

It makes you question why your body, and more particularly your pussy, is suddenly insatiable and the sight of him is making drool drip from your mouth where it’s fallen open in awe of his physique.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice your change in demeanor as he waves hello before heading upstairs to shower. Once he’s gone, your body releases its tension and you sigh in relief. Although, the feeling doesn’t entirely go away, and you end up spending the rest of the evening uncomfortably horny.

That very night you take matters into your own hands, literally. You haven’t masturbated since getting pregnant, not for any particular reason other than just not feeling the urge, but now the urge has you in a chokehold and you need to fix it.

Closing your eyes and slinking comfortably into your sheets, you pull your shorts and panties off in one go before trailing your hand down to your core. You’re still wet from earlier, no doubt because you saw Jungkook in all his post workout glory. The image of him wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt is still on your mind when your fingers dip between your folds.

A quiet moan escapes as you move your leaking essence around with your fingertips. It’s been more than three months since you’ve felt any sort of sexual pleasure, the night you spent with Jungkook being the last time.

Your eyes roll as you play with yourself by switching between pushing your fingers into your cunt and circling your clit. The squelching sound helps to turn you on, but the entire time all you can think is that it isn’t enough. It barely scratches the surface of your sexual need and is a sorry excuse for pleasure after what you Jungkook made you feel.

Huffing in frustration, you shut your eyes again and try to forget about the world around you, but it’s only when you think back to earlier today that your pleasure spikes and you moan again.

Realizing what the trick is, you begrudgingly let your imagination, or more so your memory, run rampant. You think back to that night and the way Jungkook’s lips felt against yours, and the way his cock penetrated you so deep you were seeing stars. The memory of his deep voice in your ear makes you moan exuberantly. Your hand falls into a quick rhythm as all the memories come flooding back. Everything about that night sends you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His weight above you, the heat of his skin, his taste, his moans and grunts, the way he fills you up. All of it forces you to bite down on your fist and cry when your orgasm overwhelms you.

The aftershocks of your pleasure have you panting as you come down from the high. You feel immense relief now that your desire is satiated after a long day of feeling your thighs twitch. Pulling your hand away, you stand to wash your hands so you can finally get some rest.

Hopefully, this symptom will eventually disappear like the others and you won’t be riddled with sexual cravings through the entirety of your pregnancy.

The next morning you’re pouring yourself a cup of tea to drink before heading to work. Jungkook comes skipping down the stairs in his business casual attire, his sleeves partially rolled up to reveal his tattoos. You wave to him and push the cup of coffee you poured for him across the counter.

“Thanks, Bams,” he says with a squeeze to your arm.

This is the normal, everyday occurrence for you now, and it’s nice having a routine that works for you both. You didn’t realize how easy living together would be and you’re glad it’s finally happening. Besides the times your pregnancy has turned into a sick, desperate, crazy person, it’s been business as usual for you two even with the adjustment of being roommates.

“You gonna be home for dinner?” You ask him as he takes a sip of the drink. His brow creases and he looks adorably angry, letting you know you made it just right.

“Yeah, the deadline for the newest patch was last week so I shouldn’t be staying late,” he answers.

“I’m making your favorite, your mom sent me the recipe last week,” you tell him.

“No shit,” he says, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. You nod in confirmation and he enthusiastically claps his hands. There’s a brief lull in the conversation, but then Jungkook seemingly remembers something and grabs your attention. “Actually, there's something I was gonna talk to you about.”

“What’s up?” Leaning over the counter, you take a sip and wait for him to speak.

“Well, I may or may not have heard you last night and —”

The sound of you choking and spitting out your tea interrupts him.

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you, ya know, having a little fun all by your lonesome last night.” You stare at him incredulously across the island. “Surprise, surprise, the wall between our rooms isn’t that thick.”

“Koo, why are you bringing this up?” You ask. “I mean, thanks for letting me know, I guess?”

“No, no,” he chuckles. “I’m not saying it to embarrass you or anything, Bambi.” He mirrors your stance so your faces are only a few inches apart. “I was just going to offer my services in case you need something more than your own hand.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just, I mean, I’m only a room away, and I know your hormones are probably going awol and making you needy and shit. So, if you ever want to, the option is there.”

“Koo, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m not gonna use you like that.”

“Oh, yeah, because having sex with you is such a chore. Worst night of my fucking life!” You laugh and slap his arm playfully. He stands to his full height with a wink. “Just think about it, alright?”

You do think about it. Unfortunately, it’s all you can think about. It already freaked you out enough when you couldn’t get yourself off without thinking of him, and now your body is mentally somersaulting in celebration because of his offer.

It’s definitely not romantic feelings swirling inside you, because just as you told your friends, you don’t feel butterflies with Jungkook, but it’d be both impractical and impossible to deny you have sexual feelings for him. Whether it’s from pregnancy hormones or something else entirely, you clearly want him something awful. Greed they talked about in the bible type shit.

The only thing you don’t want is for him to fuck you because he’s trying to help you out. If you’re going to hook up again, you want him to want you in the same way.

Despite the mental turmoil it initially puts you through, time goes on without either of you bringing up his little offer. Your body still messes with you by making you horny at all hours of the day, but you usually just satisfy yourself before bed and all is good.

Tonight is different. No matter how hard you try you can’t bring yourself to come. Your fingers are pruny from how long you’ve been playing with yourself, but nothing is working. It’s nearly two in the morning, and although it’s a weekend, you still want some sleep.

Grunting and kicking your blankets away, you cross your arms over your chest and pout in the darkness of your room. The quiet atmosphere of the house is helpful for lulling you to sleep, but your thighs are twitching with need and you know you’ll be restless if you don’t fix it before going to bed. You sigh and sit on the edge of your bed, chewing your lip as you debate if you’re really about to do what you’re thinking of doing. Before you can overthink it any further, you stand up and throw your door open.

Usagi makes a noise of confusion from her bed in the corner of your room, so you whisper to her you’ll be right back and shut the door.

It takes you a minimum of five minutes to gather the courage to knock on Jungkook’s door. He was working late tonight on a new project and went to bed early to catch up on his sleep. Guilt pools in your stomach at the thought of waking him up for such a selfish reason, but you know he’ll scold you if he finds out you needed him without telling him as such.

The sound of your hand against the wood feels extra loud in the stark silence of the house, and it only takes a couple seconds for Jungkook to softly call for you from inside the room.

You twist the door knob and peek your head inside. Jungkook only has one eye open, and he’s fluffing his messy hair in confusion when you enter his room.

“Bambi? Is everything okay?” He asks sleepily.

“Mmhmm,” you say as you chew on your lip. “I, um…”

The embarrassment stirring within you is almost enough to bring your morning sickness back with a vengeance.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… need you,” you whisper.

Jungkook sits up, his other eye finally opening, although they’re still half-lidded with sleep.

“Need me how, Bams? Are you alright?”

“Like… sexually,” you finally answer.

His eyes open a little wider at your response, but soon enough his expression softens and he smiles warmly.

“C’mere,” he whispers, his hand gesturing for you to join him.

You tentatively place one foot in front of the other until you reach the edge of his mattress and climb in. He holds his hand out for you and once you’re close enough he grabs your waist to help you straddle his thighs.

As soon as you feel him beneath you and his chest against your own, the tension in your body disintegrates and the relief sends your forehead to his shoulder. Jungkook reacts instinctively, one hand scratching your scalp while the other rubs your back, and you whimper from comforting sensations.

“Tell me what you need, babygirl.”

“I don’t know. Nothing’s working and I… I just need relief,” you explain.

“Okay, do you want my hands or my mouth?”

You shake your head.

“You, Koo. Want you.”

Jungkook hums and combs his fingers through your hair, the hand on your back rising to cradle your face instead.

“You’ve got me, Bambi. I’ll give you anything you want.” You feel him mouthing at your jaw and breathe a sigh of relief. “Every part of me,” he whispers ardently.

After a prolonged moment of gentle neck kisses, Jungkook takes your hips in his hands to lift you and pull your bottoms down before moving his own pants out of the way. You hear the sound of him pumping his cock to get himself hard, but you’re too busy returning his favor by caressing his neck with your lips to see the motion yourself. The firm touch of his hand on your lower back guides you into the right position atop his lap. You sink down slowly, with Jungkook holding you steady as he fills you inch by delicious inch. The wetness from your earlier attempts at self pleasure allows him to slide into you with ease.

You moan unabashedly at the feeling of his thick cock inside you again, it’s warm and throbbing within your walls and you kiss the bare skin of his shoulder appreciatively. He feels like pure heaven and it’s worrisome how desperately you wish you could stay like this forever.

“Koo, you feel so good,” you moan into his ear.

While you begin kissing his neck again, Jungkook starts bouncing you up and down on his cock via his hold on your hips. The euphoric feeling the action creates must be mutual, because a pair of vibrant moans and the clapping of your skin is the only sound in the room. His noises are deeper than normal since he’s still fresh from slumber and the low tone makes your head spin.

When you eventually take over and pick up the pace, one of his hands leaves your hip to thread into your hair.

“Missed this, Bams,” he tells you sincerely. “You feel fucking perfect around me.”

Jungkook brings your face close so he can kiss you. He’s gentle with his affection, lips moving at a snail’s pace to savor the feeling of kissing you once again. Tracing your bottom lip with his tongue, you moan gratefully when he pushes it past the border of your lips to meet yours. Your arms encircle his neck as you shamelessly make out, pulling him impossibly close so his bare chest is pressing on you.

“So tight, Bams, feels fucking amazing.”

“Mm, it’s just for you. Pussy’s all yours, Koo.”

Jungkook groans aggressively and kisses you with a new wave of passion. His fingers dig into your scalp reactively and you whine, your thighs working overtime to fuck his cock into you again and again. The dual sensation of his kiss and his dick splitting you apart rattles your brain until all you can focus on are your movements.

When he notices your pace stuttering from your impending climax, he steals control again, wrapping both arms around your waist to steady you while he thrusts into you from below. You gasp and bite into the skin of his shoulder as he fucks you with everything he has.

It’s no surprise your orgasm approaches faster than usual, since you were already worked up from your previous ministrations. You welcome the familiar feeling of your abdomen and thighs tightening as Jungkook continues pistoning into you, kissing him again when you feel yourself tipping over the precipice. Running your fingers through his hair and tugging on the black strands, you pull a grunt from his lips that only serves to further your pursuit.

“M’close,” you breathe into his mouth.

“Come for me, Bams,” he replies without missing a beat.

The tip of his cock only meets your g-spot a couple more times before you come with a throaty moan, your head tipping back as Jungkook continues to fuck you through your high. His hips slow to a stop as your body relaxes and breathing levels out, so you question him with a glance.

“What are you doing?”

“You came, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

“I’m not the one with pregnancy hormones,” he chuckles.

Your hands move from his hair to caress his jaw.

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “This is a two way street, Koo. You’re not a sex toy, I didn’t come in here just for me.”

Jungkook smiles sweet as pie and kisses the tip of your nose.

“I know, Bambi,” he says. “But honestly, I think we should both get some sleep. Why don’t you stay in here with me and we can pick this up again in the morning?”

You frown, but begrudgingly agree when you notice how tired Jungkook looks.

After pulling out, Jungkook readjusts your bottoms back to your hips before tucking himself into his pants. He cuddles into his sheets with one arm resting against the pillow next to him. Gesturing with his head towards his outstretched limb, you happily take the hint and lay your head on his tatted bicep.

Cuddling with Jungkook is foreign, but the man himself is so familiar that it’s not awkward despite it being the first time. Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist to bring you into his chest, and it’s shocking just how wonderful it feels to be entirely encapsulated by him. You hum appreciatively as comfort seeps into your very bones and makes a home in your nervous system. Without thinking, you start tracing over his collarbones with your fingertips and he kisses your cheek and temple.

You both fall asleep with ease, your quiet breaths tangling together in the limited space between your faces.

When you wake up, Jungkook is behind you, but his arm is still draped across your waist and your head remains comfortably on his bicep. You smile without realizing and cuddle deeper into his embrace, lacing your fingers with the ones resting on your stomach.

Your view upon looking down is just your intertwined hands above your small baby bump and your smile grows exponentially, your heart squeezing in your chest at the sight of all three of you together this way.

The sentimental moment is brief, because soon enough you recognize the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pressing against your ass and desire begins banging on your door and demanding you let it in. As any good human in your position should, you nonchalantly wiggle your ass and snicker to yourself when you feel his cock stiffening. The sound of Jungkook languidly groaning behind you lights a fire inside your stomach that blazes down to your thighs.

His hand squeezes yours and you feel him nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Morning,” he murmurs in your ear.

“Morning wood, more like it,” you reply.

Jungkook chuckles warmly in your ear and it spreads goosebumps across your skin like wildfire. He releases your hand to grab your hip instead, pulling you into him so you can feel exactly how hard he is. Your exhale becomes a moan when he ruts against your ass and his hand leaves your hip to reach your folds.

The second his fingers slip beneath your panties and touch your warm cunt, your mind goes to static.

“Shit, Bams, you’re fucking soaked,” he notes.

“I’ve been wet for the past two weeks straight,” you admit.

“You should’ve told me,” Jungkook says as he licks and nibbles on your earlobe. “Would’ve taken care of you.”

You whine when he starts sucking on your neck just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt.

“Yeah,” you moan. “I’m understanding how grave a mistake that was now.”

He laughs again before returning to his previous endeavor of kissing and licking your throat. His fingers move in and out of you lackadaisically, slowly stretching your hole open as he curls the digits against your front wall to reach that perfect spongy spot. You find yourself gripping his forearm to keep yourself steady as the pleasure threatens to pull you under its waves.

Once Jungkook deems you wet enough, he removes his fingers from your pussy and brings them to your mouth for you to lick clean. As you work your tongue around and between his two middle fingers you hear the rustling of pants behind you. Even though the last time was mere hours ago, your heart is already racing at the thought of him stuffing you full again.

Jungkook runs his dick through your folds and presses the tip against your leaking hole, making your essence coat his head with a pretty sheen. You moan reactively, your head meeting his shoulder while his cock stretches your velvet walls.

The fingers previously between your lips dig into the flesh of your waist as he starts rocking into you from behind. He’s doing all the work, simultaneously pulling your hips back while he thrusts into your cunt mercilessly. You’re thankful for his diligence, because your mind is going haywire from the feeling of him throbbing inside you and the veins of his cock rubbing along your walls. It’d be impossible for you to assist him with anything in this state.

He’s still worshipping your neck with his mouth while fucking you like an animal and the contradicting feeling forces your eyes into your skull.

“You’re so fucking tight, Bams. So wet… you’re making me fucking crazy.” His warm breath on your neck makes you keen.

“More, Koo, I need more of you,” you reply.

Jungkook hears you loud and clear. He holds your waist with both arms to keep you snug against him so he can thrust into you with more force, his pace speeding up in conjecture with the extra effort.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp. “Jungkook.”

“Yeah? This what you wanted?”

“Fuck, yes, you’re so fucking big, Koo,” you whine.

He relentlessly fucks into your cunt, rolling his hips against your ass and sending his cock straight to your g-spot. Your nails make crescent moons on his arm where you’re still holding on for dear life. The other hand stretches before you to clutch the sheets like a vice for fear you’ll lose your mind if you don’t have something in your grasp.

The melody of your moans and his grunts are downright pornagraphic and serves as filthy music to your ears. There’s nothing you want more than for him to continue fucking you, and if you could keep him buried in your cunt for all eternity, you would gladly do so.

“You close?” He asks as he bites your ear.

“Yes.”

“Good, gonna make a mess of you, Bambi.”

The erotic combination of words, tickling breaths, his firm chest behind you, and the massive cock spreading your pussy apart have you going institutionally insane. Somehow, he manages to gain more speed as your orgasms near and the imminent release makes you scream. It’s barely a second later that you’re coming with a pathetic cry of his name. He follows immediately, his cum marking your walls as his own while he repeatedly fucks his seed into you.

His hips never cease their movement even once your highs wane, he just continues rolling into your cunt while his cock softens inside of you. You whimper from the oversensitivity, but even the uncomfortable pressure doesn’t make you stop him. The feeling of having him within you is too addicting to let it end just yet.

Eventually, he stops lazily fucking you, but even then he still doesn’t pull out. You hold the position until sleep brings you both back into its embrace, Jungkook’s arms securely around you while the dripping mixture of your essences pools on the bed below.

Taglist: @lovingkoalaface @starcandybby @junniesoleilkth @keylime4eva @kissyfacekoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @spideyjimin @jjeonjjk7 @joonlover1207 @annpeachy @rexana19 @heartwith0uthe @kosmos1307 @minyoongi7016 @magicalnachocreator @misschelliejeon @bubblyi3 @bhonbhon @polnaraffsrack @amarawayne @majesticjung-97 @kmpj9 @upo1313 @songbyeonkim @kikikaaa @glowjuli @avawants2havefun @hyeinwluv85s @someonegoood @kyljjk

-> The Second Trimester

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voxyldy · 1 year ago

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04.14.2024

BTS POP-UP : MONOCHROME Official Trailer

(youtu.be/_wp0GPlkpc8)

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#MONOCHROME #MNCR

BTS POP-UP : MONOCHROME

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MANILA: 05/24 - 06/30

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SOURCE: @bts_bighit

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ohhowjooniewept · 3 months ago

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friendship group jungkook x y/n

fluff, angst, filthy smut

10k<

——

having a big friendship group was something that most people couldn’t understand. the dynamics between each and every person were important, like a well oiled machine that churned out a mixture of jokes and joy.

you had been friends with namjoon and yoongi for years, meeting taehyung, yejin and jin in your first year of university. yoongi introduced hoseok, who in turn introduced jimin, who of course, introduced jungkook.

you were incredibly close to them all, with the exception of the bambi eyed boy, who for some reason, you just couldn’t crack. it wasn’t that you didn’t get along, on the contrary - you were the most alike and he was always extremely kind towards you. it had been years and years since you first met, and you were able to have small conversations but there was an air of tension that followed you both that neither of you understood. well, you pretended not to anyway.

it was a secret to no one, except jungkook, that you were head over heels in love with him. yoongi would groan every time he’d see the starry look in your eyes once the conversation shifted towards the younger man, with yejin and jimin giggling like their lives depended on it.

“you should just get married and leave the rest of us to finally recover from your rambles.” he grumbled, once, laid out on your sofa with biscuit crumbs on his chest.

you rolled your eyes at him, frowning. “shut up yoongi, that would require him to actually like me back.”

he groaned so loudly that you found yourself grabbing the nearest pillow and plowing it into his face. “god, you’re both such idiots.” he muttered with a shake of his head.

———

jungkook had an aura around him that most described as electrifying. he knew he could walk into any room and make a friend, or have eyes stay on him for the duration of the night - he knew he had presence and it was something he enjoyed.

one thing he didn’t know, however, was how to tell the girl he had been in love with for multiple years, his feelings. add the fact that she was also in his friendship group, he knew he was utterly hopeless.

years of knowing and seeing one another weekly, but he still struggled to hold a 10 minute conversation between you both. between stuttering words and clenched jaws - he could speak to everyone else in the room as though it was a god given talent, but you? for you, he was hopeless.

every girlfriend, every fling and every message in his inbox was a way to rid himself of you, but you plagued his thoughts and every inch of his desires.

———

“right, why are you saying this to me again?” jin questioned as he cooked.

the entire group were at namjoon’s house to celebrate his new promotion, with bottles of wine sitting in the fridge and laughter heartily coming from the living room.

“jin, please.” jungkook groaned, leaning on the counter beside him. “yoongi won’t listen to me anymore. says i talk too much.

jin looked straight at him. “you do.”

“what? this is the first time i’m opening up about this to you.”

jin looked over again, more pointed. “first time this week.”

jungkook groaned once more, overgrown pout on his face as he rubbed over his eyes.

“listen.” jin began. “you can walk, or in your case run, in circles all you want. why can’t you just be honest with her, tell her how you feel?”

“i can’t even have a conversation with her without feeling like i’m going to pass out.”

yejin walked into the kitchen, hair messy and lipstick smudged from the wine she had been drinking. her eyes fell on the pout on jungkook’s face before giggling.

“let me guess, yoongi won’t let you confess to him anymore, now you’re terrorising jin?”

“bingo.” the older man grinned.

jungkook frowned. “is this just a running gag, now?”

“hard to feel sorry for you when you’re the reason for your own problems, kook.” yejin slid next to jin, moaning over the scent of multiple little dishes. “i mean, have you tried asking her out? even platonically? have you guys ever purposefully been alone with each other?”

jungkook’s frown deepened, he hated being friends with intellectuals. stupid yejin, stupid namjoon, jin and yoongi. the rest weren’t to be trusted with this knowledge; they’d blab to you in a heartbeat. little did you know, you had taken them for yourself. they were yours informants, sworn to secrecy.

“well, i guess not but…i don’t think she’d be entirely comfortable with just me.” he confessed. “she gets shy and quiet when i speak to her. she doesn’t laugh or joke the same as when she’s with all of us.”

the two looked over at the tall boy, eyes brows furrowed. they then turned to look at one another, both shaking their head. “god, why did you curse us with idiots for friends.” yejin grumbled, allowing jin to feed her ahead of everyone.

“you guys are mean.” jungkook grumbled. “at least yoongi pretends to be nice at first.”

with a roll of jin’s eyes, he handed him a few plates before shoo’ing him away, yejin following with her hands full. in the living room, you were stood by the tv, glass in hand, giggling away as you watched yoongi and taehyung battle it out on mario cart. the former was grunting and yelling, uncharacteristically, whilst the latter grinned wide as he won another round.

“you’re getting old.” tae smirked.

yoongi gave him a glare, before standing up to help yejin put her plates down. “you don’t get hit enough for my liking.”

the wine was beginning to make your brain hazy, and you felt slightly tipsy. it was no secret that you were the lightweight of the group, which was why you were on a strict one glass policy whenever you were with your group.

the living room table was set, adorned with finger food and a bowl of larger dishes, everyone tucking in. jungkook took a seat on the coach on the left, leaving a space beside him before his eyes flickered up to you, hovering over the table behind hobi, waiting to be given a plate. his eyes stayed trained to your face, a reddish flush evident on your cheeks that made his heart beat painfully. fuck, you were so pretty.

“okay. this weekend, what are we doing?” yejin clapped, as you began filling your plate. “you know i love pigging out with you guys, but we should celebrate joonie properly. you’ve really been waiting for this for so long.”

the dimpled boy grinned, blushing slightly. “i’m happy to do whatever, this is enough for me.”

“boring.” jimin groaned, shaking his head. “we need to go out.”

your eyes brushed over the seating arrangement, noticing the only free spot was between yejin and jungkook, the latter already staring up at you with too large eyes and parted lips. you wanted to scream, the little girl in you clawing her way through your body at the thought of sitting next to your crush.

with a tinge in your cheeks, you made your way over, wobbling slightly as you began to sit down. jungkook’s reflexes were fast, one hand on your thigh and the other taking control of your wine, letting you sit down comfortably.

his touch didn’t register with your brain immediately, but once you sat down and looked, noticing his hand remaining on your thigh whilst he looked up to join in on the conversation with the others, your brain began to short circuit. he was touching you. his hand. on your thigh. touching.

you had never noticed how big his hands were until now, your eyes flickering over every inch and knuckle, core clenching and mouth watering. you wanted him in a way that was neither healthy nor acceptable, but right now, who could blame you?

jungkook wasn’t fairing any better. his heart was beating so loudly, he swore he could feel it in his throat. he hadn’t even thought before touching you, it felt like second nature and once his hand found home on your thigh, he simply couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

you both sat, tense and head swirling, his hand firmly where it belonged.

“what do you think y/n, you down?” yejin murmured next to her, bumping her shoulder.

“down..” you cleared your throat, fixing your position. “down for what, sorry?”

her eyes flickered down, before meeting your gaze with an all knowing smirk. “the new club downtown on saturday.”

“isn’t it kinda expensive? i hear the drinks are pricey.” you cringed.

jimin scoffed. “with a face like yours, you won’t be spending a penny, don’t you worry.”

you exchanged giggles, the group going back to exchanging conversations as you all drank. the wine was getting to you, so much so, you hardly noticed jungkook’s hand flexing on your thigh, gripping tighter and higher.

——

saturday had finally come and you went all out. everyone was dressed nicely, excited to go christen a new club, the electricity palpable and running through you. you knew you looked good tonight, you had gone the extra mile - sleek hair and dress both tight and perhaps too short. your heels made your legs look longer than usual and your makeup sultry - you had one single goal tonight. jungkook.

you were sick of this cat and mouse game. you liked him. maybe a lot more than like, but regardless, you were going to get a few shots in you, tell him how you feel whilst you felt confident, and then get black out drunk so you wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. solid plan.

unfortunately, said plan meant nothing once your eyes fell on him.

broad shoulders and piercings catching the light of the club, drink in hand as his t shirt stretched across his chest. every plan, thought and idea fluttered away from your head, leaving a hollow echo chamber in which all you could hear was a repeat of his name.

he turned to look around, noticing you walking towards the group with hugs and greetings. he blinked once or twice, before turning around and openly groaning. fuck.

“yeah, yeah. pack it up lover boy.” yoongi scoffed, before you walked over to give him a hug too.

jungkook spun again, meeting your gaze as you shyly reached over to hug him as per usual. he never let you get far, always closing the distance himself and wrapping his arms around you as he held you tightly.

“hm. you smell good.” he murmured next to your ear, leaving a shiver down your spine.

“is that it?” you cheekily asked, eyebrow raised.

he smirked wide and broad. “you look good. better than good.”

you grinned up at him before letting him go. he, however, let his arm rest loosely around your waist as you turned to the group, gushing with yejin about how good she looked. you tried to ignore how badly your heart was thumping, he was never this bold - sure he could be touchy but that was jungkook, he practically resided on namjoon’s lap. this felt different, but you couldn’t bare yourself to get your hopes up.

his eyes flickered downwards, observing you and wracking over your body. you looked better than ever, and it both excited and angered him. he knew he’d have to have his wits about him tonight, if a man even approached you, he was sure he’d combust.

“okay, drinks!” taehyung exclaimed over the music, clapping his hands.

you and yejin took a seat at the table whilst the boys filtered down to the bar, the loss of jungkook’s arm both palpable and healing to your racing brain.

your eyes travelled to across the club, where your boys stood, jungkook ignoring evident glances and women sauntering over to him. you couldn’t help the grimace.

“you’re too pretty to frown.” yejin cooed, moving your chin so you were facing her. “especially over a boy.”

you blushed. “wish he wasn’t so handsome, can’t believe everyone sees what i see.”

“ah,” she grinned wickedly. “funny. you’ve had guys trailing you and watching you from the second you walked in, and believe me, he’s not happy.”

your eyes widened at her comment, eyes flickering to jungkook again, who’s gaze was already on you. you broke the contact, embarrassed before turning to her properly.

“enough jungkook talk, what’s on the agenda tonight? what is yeji doing?” you asked, hands in hers.

“i’m not leaving empty handed.” she wiggled her eyebrows, causing a fit of laughter that remained as the boys came back, looking at you both inquisitively.

yoongi reached over to hand you your drink, to which you thanked him gently, sipping slowly.

you felt the seat beside you dip, focused on your conversation with the boy and girl beside you, until you felt a warm hand press against your bare thigh. yejin and yoongi continued, unaware, as your head turned to face the tatted boy beside you, who drank his drink as though this was the most casual thing he had ever done. the thump in his chest argued otherwise.

you were sure your cheeks were flaming red, and your thigh began to tremble beneath his touch. you wanted him to go higher whilst also let go, you were sure your brain would wither away soon with how hazy you felt.

“like your drink?” he asked, suddenly getting closer to you so you could hear him over the music.

“mm, fruity.” you nodded, eyes never leaving his.

he grinned. “hm.” his hand flexed on your thigh. “have i told you how good you look, tonight?”

“only once.” you guys were flirting. the little girl inside your body was screaming so loudly.

he tutted, shaking his head as his grip tightened. “my bad, baby. you look stunning.” he whispered intimately into your ear. “love this little dress, new hm? would have remembered if you’d worn it before.”

all you could do is nod, as he pulled away slightly from your ear, your faces much too close to be deemed appropriate. just a little closer, he thought, eyes flickering down to your lips. just a little curve to your head and he’d take care of your tiny pout, he was sure.

before you could continue, however. “y/nnie, come on.” jimin shouted, from across the booth as he got up, forcing you to yank away from jungkook with wide eyes and parted lips. your eyes looked up to the blonde haired boy, a smirk on his face. “time to dance.”

“jimin i’m not tipsy enough.” you groaned.

“take this shot.” namjoon pushed the drink over to you, yejin giggling beside you.

you picked it up, hands still shaky, and tipped it back, grimacing deeply whilst everyone laughed and whooped around you. you shook your head quickly, as to rid yourself of the taste, before he grabbed your arm, pulling you up from your seat and guiding you down. you grabbed yejin on the way, who waved excitedly at the rest of the boys, shouting something about actually having fun.

it wasn’t long until you guys were dancing away, giggling loudly and twirling with one another. jimin was the life of your group, whilst yejin was the soul - if you ever wanted to have fun, it had to involve the pair who only ever seeked out joy.

the alcohol was already rushing to your head, leaving you a tipsy mess. being the worlds biggest lightweight never helped when you wanted to get drunk because you knew in two drinks, you were completely finished, but it was always nice to get a buzz whilst you were out.

hobi and jin soon joined, with the former’s arms around you as you danced and sang together, fits of giggles being shared.

“i don’t think i’m going to survive tomorrow, my heads already so gone.” you shouted over at him, music thumping.

“yeah, me neither - your little boyfriend is about to kill me with his stare.” he giggled louder, throwing his head back.

your eyebrows furrowed before turning your head to the side, catching jungkook’s heavy gaze.

eyebrows furrowed and a dark expression on his face, you could see the clench of his jaw and it made your core whine. he was so pretty despite being evidently bothered. the thought, the idea, that he would be this way over hobi dancing with you sent a million electricity volts through your body, your eyes never leaving his.

“we spoil him too much, now we can’t even dance with you without him planning our murder.”

you broke eye contact, looking at hobi with an excited thrill. “i want him so bad.” you groaned quietly, head falling to his shoulder.

“believe me. you could have him.”

——

the night was going strong, and you had slowed down with the drinks and paced yourself appropriately to match your friends. taehyung wanted to smoke outside, so you accompanied him.

you and jungkook had been playing a fine line all night, dancing around the tension, eye contact and fleeting touches but never anything more. it was driving you insane, you knew that maybe he wanted you in some way but if it wasn’t the way you wanted, then you couldn’t have him. you wouldn’t be able to move on and it wasn’t fair.

you both stood outside, taehyung taking out a cigarette whilst the wind nipped at your too warm skin, offering some calm to the night.

“fuck. forgot my lighter, i’ll be two seconds alright?” he groaned with a tip of his head making you nod, resting your head against the wall of the smoking shelter.

you watched him retreat, closing your eyes for a few moments before you heard a shuffling of feet behind you. your eyebrows furrowed, thinking nothing of it until a large hand gripped your hip, twirling you around to face them.

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. why was he here? how could he be here? touching you so casually and without thought; hand bruising your hip with every passing second as he approached you with nothing but clear disrespect.

“missed me?” jaehyun, your ex, grinned down at you, lowering his head to meet your height.

your ex of two years, who had terrorised you to an inch of your life stood before you, hands on your body as though it was his every right. your relationship with him had been turbulent to say the least.

it had started once you decided you couldn’t see jungkook kissing another girl at a random party, you felt sick and you’d had enough, you were finally moving on from the schoolgirl crush you had on him. you met jaehyun and he was seemingly perfect at ridding you of jungkook’s lasting touch on your heart, until he suddenly wasn’t.

he’d get angry whenever you went out with your friends, despite knowing them and understanding the years long dynamic you all shared. the mere mention of namjoon, hoseok and jimin were enough to drive him into a rage that left you shaking all night, only for him to appear the next morning with flowers and empty promises that it would never happen again.

you’d once mentioned jungkook in a passing, harmless comment and had to nurse your face for the next two weeks as payment. he was violent regarding any man, but it was the bright eyed boy that set him off the most.

it only escalated, but by that point, you felt entirely trapped. it wasn’t until yejin had come over after months of silence on your part, and broke down at the sight of you. you’d never forget the way she wailed whilst examining the bruises on your arms and chest, holding you like a baby before packing your bags and taking you from your shared apartment with him.

you don’t remember what happened after that, it was traumatic and it had taken a year of therapy to even consider unpacking it properly. you remembered being sat with the boys, yejin holding you tight whilst they all promised to keep you safe. you’d spend a night at each of their homes in rotation for months and months, at the fear of night terrors and something worse.

the nights you’d stay with jungkook were the calmest, the scent of him imbedded deep into his home enough to lull you to sleep as he snored in the living room. your friends had supported you to an inch of your life, built up your confidence and protected you. you were no longer the meek girl jaehyun had forced you to be, you stood straight and you spoke clearly - but the sight of him; the feel of him, broke you out of it immediately.

“get off of me.” you shakily whispered, hand grabbing the hand on your hip and pushing it away with all your might, forcing yourself to step away. “you don’t get to touch me.”

his eyes darkened, the patronising grin falling from his face immediately. “you know, i thought i taught you better than that. made sure not to let you talk back, remember?”

his words made you flinch, clearly referring to the times he would plow a fist into you if you ever spoke up even remotely. you began inching backwards, throat bobbing and hands shaking.

“and that dress? so short, it’s like you’re begging for my attention. two years later and still acting like a slut, y/n?” his face contorted, as though even looking at you made him angry. “used to be such a good girl. used to fucking listen.”

“don’t speak to me. you’re..you’re not allowed to come near me.” you wheezed out as your hands shook and your stomach twisted, the horrible feeling of anxiety and fear beginning to take over you. yejin had helped you file a restraining order. he wasn’t allowed to do this to you.

“yeah? and who’s going to fucking stop me.” he growled, hand grabbing your arm tightly making you welp whilst his other pulled you forward to his chest. “fucking bitch. i’ll take you home, hm? teach you a lesson, teach you what you should have remembered.”

you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. eyes closing and body shaking. his hand began gripping your face tightly, spouting abuse at you as your brain completely slipped away, shutting yourself down as trauma gripped the edges like a vice.

suddenly, you felt his touch completely leave you, forcing you to open them up again to find jaehyun on the floor, jungkook pounding his fists into his face. you could see taehyung shouting something, namjoon pulling you away and hobi running back inside where the others remained, no doubt to bring them to you.

you couldn’t think, your brain disassociating as your body trembled, prints of jaehyun’s hands all over your body. were you crying? tears were streaming down your face and you weren’t even aware, trembling as namjoon took you to a quiet corner, worried beyond belief.

taehyung had rushed back to their table to get a lighter, when namjoon, hobi and himself agreed to step out too, needing a smoke and fresh air. within moments of being outside, his eyes had widened at the sight of your abusive ex attacking you. he’d never get used to the look of fear in your face that felt so constant years ago, but seeing it back was enough to make him see red.

he wasn’t thinking, grabbing the man and plowing his fists into his face, watching him fall back. he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, only doing so once both yoongi and jimin had managed to get him off, watching as jaehyun scurried away as fast as he could, despite bleeding heavily from his face.

turning around, seeing you sat with your eyes unmoving and tears streaming, he wanted to chase the fucker and do it again. his baby, his girl - how could he do this to you? how could he look at you and not see anything other than stars and moon?

“y/nnie, can you hear me?” he cooed as yejin sobbed beside you, holding you tightly. the boys were all a nervous wreck, yoongi shaking angrily and the others trying to regain your attention.

after a few moments, your eyes began to focus. you met jungkook’s gaze first, your gaze flickering over him in a momentary lapse of confusion. “he’s gone, y/n. jungkook took care of it.” taehyung sniffled, crouched beside you.

a moment of silence was shared between you, the sounds of both yejin and tae filtering the air as the others ran their hands through their hair nervously.

“promise?” you asked, voice breaking making the tatted boy almost whine in sadness. “promise you, he won’t bother you again.”

you simply nodded. you hadn’t noticed how hard you were crying, with tears ruining your perfectly applied makeup and your chest heaving in what could only be fear. “i’m sorry joonie, was supposed to be your night.” you choked out.

the taller boy tutted over at you, pressing a kiss to your head. “don’t be silly, y/nnie.” he shook his head. “jungkook, why don’t you take her home? stay with her, yeah? think she’ll feel the best with you there.”

you hardly registered what was happening, feeling jungkook’s hands taking hold of yours as he helped you up. everyone took turns holding you for a second or two, ensuring personally that you were okay. yejin pressed kisses to your cheek through her own tears, promising you that you were safe and that nothing else would happen before crying further into jin’s chest. jungkook watched, almost helplessly as he waited for the uber to arrive, yoongi patting him on the back. it wasn’t long until he received the notification on his phone.

he looked at you now, as you sniffled and walked back over to him, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you all bid your goodbyes. you slid into the uber first, his arms cradling you as you shuffled into his shoulder, breathing in the same familiar scent that would soothe you.

after a while of silence, your eyebrows furrowed, taking in your surroundings. “this isn’t the way to my house.”

he looked down at you, your little hand on his. he pondered before holding it up to his mouth, pressing a little kiss to your fingers. “i know baby. taking you to mine.”

your heart was thumping again, watching him as he caressed your hands, kissing each fingertip so gently you wondered if he was kissing them at all. an act so intimate you wondered what it meant.

it wasn’t long until you arrived, mourning the loss of warmth jungkook’s body provided as he pulled you out gently, taking you inside.

you’d been here a million times before but you never tired of how warm it felt, how much it resembled each bit of him. you pulled off your heels, your height dropping significantly before shuffling to the bathroom, intent on taking your makeup off immediately.

the joys of having two skincare obsessed women in the group meant yejin and yourself kept these boys stocked, considering sleepovers were a norm. jungkook let you take your time, no words exchanged as he grabbed you a t shirt from his wardrobe, knowing how much you liked sleeping in them.

“kookie, can i shower?” you asked, quietly as you peeked your head out the bathroom.

“course you can, i got you the rose body wash that you like the other day too.” he grinned over at you, hands roaming his hair. he handed over the oversized tee you loved so much, heart skipping a beat as you gave him a soft smile. “you’re the best.” you muttered back, hearing a little chuckle from him.

you watched as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets before closing the door, your eyes screwed shut for a moment. so much had happened tonight, from feeling utterly helpless one second to so safe and warm in jungkook’s presence.

you showered relatively quickly, wanting no more than to sink into the plush mattress of his bed. “you hungry?” he asked once you came out, having showered himself in his other bathroom, dressed in a similar t shirt and plaid bottoms. he looked so cute.

“no, i’m okay.” he looked over with a small double take, drinking you in, soft skin and barely hidden legs. god, you drove him insane.

he nodded. “okay, wanna head to bed? it’s been a long night for you.” you shuffled in your spot before nodding.

he’d usually sleep on his couch whenever you were round, considering it was quite large and comfortable - of course, he didn’t want to intrude either. he had too much respect for you to ever think about imposing.

“will you..will you stay with me? tonight?” you whispered quietly, looking down as you asked.

he didn’t reply, simply began walking over to you and gently taking your hands in his, littering your smaller fingers with kisses like he did in the uber. your breath hitched as you met his gaze, watching as he nodded before leading you over to his bedroom, hand clasped over yours.

you let yourself be pulled by him, watching as he rounded the bed, knowing you preferred the side closest to the window, before getting in; watching you do the same. you both snuggled into the warmth of his covers, a groan leaving your lips.

he turned to look at you, as you did the same. he couldn’t handle how cute you looked, fresh faced and cuddled into his pillow. he wanted to protect you forever, have you sheltered from anything that didn’t wish even a semblance of joy.

“i’m sorry you got hurt, kookie.” you whispered, the little pout he loved so much forming. “i had no idea he was there and i just froze..i don’t know.”

he cooed at you, inching closer before slowly pulling you in by your waist so the space between you had disappeared. your hands moved to his chest without thinking, the urge coming naturally.

“don’t apologise, y/n. should have killed him for how he was speaking to you, i’m so sorry he did that.” his eyes shut tightly for a second, as though the memory pained him. “he’ll get what’s coming to him, i’ll make sure of it.”

you looked away, eyes falling to his neck and the rise and fall of his chest. “how do you feel?” he asked.

his hands moved to cup your face. you were both inching closer and closer without even realising it. “scared, honestly. i’ve been doing so good and now he’s reappeared.” you all but whimpered. “just wanna forget.”

“yeah?” he whispered, lifting your chin again to look at him, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “want me to help you forget, pretty girl?”

“please.” you nodded slowly, your eyes flickering to his lips whilst he did the same, the two of you dancing around the tension but tonight was enough.

he looked between your lips and eyes once more, before brushing his nose against yours. you tilted upwards before you felt a faint brush of his lips.

he pulled away, only slightly, looking at the way your eyes fluttered close, all resolve fluttering away from him before he properly pressed his lips to yours again.

kissing jungkook felt like coming home. consisting of passion and years of yearning, feeling like it had finally come to an end. all compiled into this single moment.

you pulled him closer, mouths interlocking as you shared a sweet embrace, his arms wrapping around your entire body before you began pulling away. the kiss was only brief, but its impact left you reeling.

“fuck.” he whispered. your eyes remained shut for a moment longer, opening them up to find a look of hope pulling at his fingers. “i’m going to kiss you again, okay y/n? but before i do that, we need to talk.”

you nodded, eyes focused on his lips before meeting his gaze. “okay. you go first.”

he nervously laughed, sitting up slightly and giving him a moment to get his bearings. he opened his mouth a few times, before closing it, unsure of where to start. “sorry, just hard you know? telling the girl you’re in love with that..you’re in love with her.” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck.

you could have sworn that the earth stopped spinning. you looked up at him, sitting up a little too fast, causing him to stop his rambled muttering before raising his eyebrows.

“what did you just say?” you all but whispered, eyes wide.

his mouth was gaping now, confusion littered on his face as though to question what had he actually said. once it dawned on him, his eyes matched the size of yours.

“oh…i mean i guess i said it. i..i get it if you don’t feel the same, i don’t want you to feel like you have to return the same feelings, you know?” he began again, this time much faster, the two of you completely sat up in bed. “but like can you blame me? loved you second i met you, y’know? always wanted to tell you but just get so shy around you, and you’re so pretty makes my brain shut down..”

whatever you had done in a past life, god bless. you were sure you would thank every god and every goddess for this very moment, your hands shaking as you grabbed his face, yanking it towards you and pressing your lips to his.

jungkook’s breath faltered for a second before realising what was happening. he wrapped his hands over your hips, careful not to touch the bruised skin your ex had caused, pulling you onto his lap immediately.

this kiss was unlike the other. though it shared the same passion and tension, this felt like a promise and declaration of love - a certainty that had waited to be confirmed for what felt like eons.

your mouths moved in unison, your fingers gripping into his hair as he brought you closer. he groaned into your mouth, your tongues moving together whilst you both pushed and pulled, yearning for more whilst every emotion ran through you. the feel of his piercing against your mouth felt cool; an odd feeling at first touch but quickly becoming something your brain felt addicted to.

he pulled away slowly for breath, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as he looked directly at you, nudging his nose with yours. “is that your way of telling me you like me?”

“i love you, you idiot.” you whispered back at him, the both of you resorting to pecks. “loved you for so long, can’t believe you haven’t told me until day.” he grinned at this, nudging your nose once more.

“yeah, you didn’t either.”

you rolled your eyes, playing with his hair from behind. “does this mean we can kiss all the time?” you asked, pecking him whilst excitedly bouncing in his lap.

he groaned loudly, hands flying to grab your waist carefully as you smothered his faces in excited kisses. “yeah, won’t ever keep my hands off of you again.”

jungkook, although elated, was fighting the demons that were currently erupting through his chest. you, in no more than his shirt and your underwear, bouncing in his lap, conveniently over his crotch where he was already fighting his growing hard on.

“fuck, y/n.” he groaned again, holding you down a little firmer, unaware that the action was now directly pushing your own core directly to his crotch. you let out a little noise, half moan half whimper; eyes connecting.

neither of you dared to move. the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable, especially after the night you had which is shy he began to pull you up, to rest you on your side of the bed again.

only, you placed your hands on his shoulders, pressing your core against his bulge firmly before rolling your hips experimentally. you couldn’t help the moan that left you, a noise leaving his lips that rivalled it.

“still…still wanna forget kookie, you’ll do that for me?” you asked, unable to stop your hips from moving in circles, not when it felt so good.

he nodded, as though in a trance, guiding your hips as he shuddered against you. “don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage, baby, you’ve had such a long night.” he whispered, though your actions never faltered.

sweet, sweet boy. you couldn’t believe this was happening, the man of your dreams, both your heart and brain no longer at odds but instead connected finally in matrimony. “wanted you for so long.” you breathed out with a shake of your head.

this was beyond anything he could imagine. with direct confirmation from you, he captured your lips once more, hands planted firmly on your waist as he dragged you up and down his clothed cock. you shared moans, quiet and unsure at first before you found yourself matching his movement, the two of you closer than ever in a way you had Both only dreamt of.

“fuck. we have to stop, or i’ll cum.” jungkook whined as he pulled away from your lips, arms entirely wrapping around your body as if to stop you, closing his eyes tightly. “and i plan to impress you, so..”

you panted, with both a slight nod and slight giggle before whimpering at the loss of pleasure. this only lasted a few more seconds before suddenly, you found yourself flipped, a squeal leaving you. jungkook hovered over you, peeling his shirt from his body before swooping down to catch your lips again.

you couldn’t help your wandering hands, fingers twitching over his naked chest. you had seen him shirtless before, notably when you had all gone to the beach, but the memory was seared into the crevice of your mind. feeling his skin so intimately was completely different.

your lips moved in unison before he broke away, whining at his own action as he pulled his t-shirt you wore. he looked at you for approval, to which you nodded before he pulled it up over your head.

jungkook groaned, loudly. the sight of your bare breasts were enough for him to go clinically insane, but the way you were looking up at him, eyes big and lips bruised. you would be the end of him.

“fuck, look at you. so pretty.” he reached for one of your breasts, listening to the quickening of your breath as he wrapped his mouth around one. biting, teasing and licking, he proceeded to leave honeyed marks on your skin, whilst your moans and squeaks egged him on.

he moved to your other, making sure to physically leave his claim over them with hickeys adorning your body. “need you, kook.” you whined, impatient.

the side of his mouth flickered up at the sound of your impatience, and as much as he wanted to ruin you immediately, he had waited too long for this to just end up rushing.

“need to prep you first, hm? gonna be patient for me?” he cooed as his hands continued cupping your breasts. you nodded, eagerly, hands locking into his hair as he gave them one last kiss before easing down your body, trailing kisses from your stomach to your hips. he kissed over the bruised skin jaehyun had caused, making your heart clench for a moment.

the boy you loved, with wild eyes and bruised lips, searing love into every crevice of skin he could reach, ridding you of the pain that disgusting man had placed on you. he was freeing you with every touch, with every promise hidden behind passionate touches, you felt so safe.

he parted your legs, eyes flickering up to meet yours. he grabbed the hem of your underwear, sliding it down so that he was met with your core, a noise of pure defeat leaving him at the sight of you. wet and clenching for him, yearning for his touch just as much as he yearned to taste you. “all for me, baby?”

you nodded, as he parted your legs further despite how suddenly shy you felt. he dipped his head, planting a chaste kiss to your clit, watching as your body jolted. with a smirk, he dove in.

he couldn’t help the noises that were leaving him as he sucked and licked, intoxicated by your taste. “taste so good, y/n.” he’d moan in between your legs. “could die here.” he’d add. “addicted to you.” he’d all but growl.

you couldn’t help the moans, you’d never felt like this before. sure you’d been eaten out before, but never by a man who acted like this was his last starving meal. jungkook hoisted your legs wider, as your hips lifted, your hands tight against his scalp.

“need to stretch you, fuck. need to make sure i fit, hm?” he teased, eyes connecting with yours as one of his tatted fingers teased your entrance whilst sucking on your clit. you hated the thought of any woman before you in his life, but you thanked every higher power above that he knew what he was doing, feeling your high in your stomach already.

he instered a finger, pumping at a pace that had your toes curling. the whines that were leaving you made him dizzy, he wanted more. it wasn’t long before he inserted another, beginning to thrust them in unison whilst you chanted his name.

he groaned at the sight of you lifting your hips, desperate to reach your high. he had no idea he was grinding into the bed, chasing a high of his own as he watched you quiver and moan. “so tight, y/n, can’t wait to feel you on my cock. hm? won’t be able to think once you’re being fucked right, baby.”

you nodded, head empty and hands shaking. “w-want it, kookie, want it so bad.”

his fingers quickened, getting rougher and going harder as he sucked on your clit. he could feel you getting restless, knew you were on the edge from the way you were pushing his head closer without even realising. he could feel his sick obsession in his brain growing rapidly knowing you wanted him just as much, it felt like nothing else mattered than making you good.

“jungkook.” you let out a high pitched squeal, feeling your high rapidly approaching before your legs began to shake, and hips began to raise. your high ran through you like a shot of electricity, as your moans grew higher, his fingers pumped faster and his hand pressed down onto your stomach, forcing you to feel every inch of your orgasm.

he parted from you after you began quivering from overstimulation, plopping his fingers into his mouth to memorise your addicting taste. he hovered over you once more, the tent in his bottoms too large for you to ignore.

“i hate that you’re so good at that.” you panted, unable to meet his eyes as your focused on his bulge. he smirked, watching you, placing your smaller hand onto it so you could feel him fully. “i’m all yours now baby. gonna eat you out every chance you give me.”

your eyes met, a shared grin forming between you both before you pulled him in sharply for a kiss. hot and heavy, you could taste yourself on him which drove you insane - you reached for his pyjama bottoms, pushing them down almost desperately.

parting from him, with hooded eyes, you looked down at his cock. so big and thick, prettier than any you’d ever seen before you let out the cutest moan. he swore he could die happy. “how are you this perfect, and you have a pretty dick?”

“are you trying to inflate my ego? it’s working. i’ll get that tatted on my chest, don’t play.”

you giggled up at him before pumping him, both hands moving up and down as you sighed. “want you inside me, kookie.” you peered up. “don’t make me wait anymore.”

he pressed one last kiss to you, groaning at the feel of your hands around his already sensitive member. he parted your legs, one peek at your messy core enough to drive him insane before he began rubbing the head over you.

“don’t think you’ll fit.” you whimpered, the feel of him all encompassing.

“i’ll make it fit, was born for you baby.” jungkook promised, as he began pushing his cock in, your core instantly clenching around him. he began slowly, until he was fully inside, pelvis to pelvis, eyes fluttering shut.

you’d never felt so full in your life, the stretch both delicious and overwhelming. your fingers clawed at his large biceps, whimpers and quivers filling in the air as he held you tightly, whispering sweet nothings about how good you were for him, how incredible you felt. once you gave him the green light, he began thrusting.

he couldn’t believe this is what he was missing out on. he couldn’t believe how tightly and warmly you felt around him, felt like he was finally coming home.

his hips snapped against yours slowly, letting you feel every inch as your moans got louder and louder. “faster, kook.” you begged, though you knew you never had to, he’d give you the world.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he chanted, his pace changing as he began to thrust faster per your request, pressing his head against yours. “feel so good, my y/n, my girl.”

you clenched around him over his words making him airily chuckle, thrusting harder at that. “yeah, like that? like me calling you my girl?”

“yeah, wanna be yours jungkook.” you whimpered back, legs reaching up to wrap around his waist as he began to thrust deeper.

the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air and he knew his neighbours would be furious tomorrow, but could hardly begin to care. “you are, hm? was always my girl, you’re all mine and i’m all yours.” he promised, biceps flexing beside your face. “won’t ever let you go.”

you mewled loudly, hands finding home in his hair as you pulled against the strands. “feel so full.”

“yeah? pussy loves it baby, loves taking it.” he growled back, head hiding in your neck, leaving hickeys.

you could already feel your high approaching, but you couldn’t bare for this to end yet, lightly pushing his chest. he immediately pulled himself up and stopped thrusting, looking down at you with furrowed eyes. “wanna ride you.” you whimpered to which he threw his head back in what could only be a pathetic groan.

“you’re going to kill me, y/n.”

soon, your positions had changed and you were slipping him back inside, the two of you moaning loudly at the feel of one another in such a deeply intimate way. he felt so much bigger like this, and the feeling of fullness for you and your heat for him were enough to drive you mad.

he watched as you began to bounce, body contorting at the feeling of pleasure running through you. this was the hottest sight he had ever seen, your hands pressed against his chest to stabilise yourself.

“fuck yourself on my cock, that’s it.” he cooed, hands grabbing onto your ass before landing a harsh spank, to which you mewled and rode faster. you had no idea to what extent you were driving him crazy.

he watched as you rose, hands now held behind yourself as you practically used him to get off. the sight was severed into his brain forever, with his fingers rubbing your clit to bring you closer to your high. “already so close, feels too good.” you moaned.

music to his ears, jungkook thought. you were getting tighter and tighter, no doubt nearing your second high but he couldn’t bring himself to lay back anymore. he grabbed your ass again, before bouncing you up and down himself, your moans getting expeditiously louder.

“jungkook!” you squealed, feeling his cock fuck you in a way no one had ever managed to. you were addicted, you had no idea how you were ever suppose to live again after this, after experiencing heaven.

“fuck baby, can feel you getting close hm? wanna cum with me, wanna cum on my cock?” he cooed at you, switching your positions again. you were now on your side, one leg on his shoulder whilst he hovered over you, pounding roughly whilst rubbing your clit.

you chanted yes over and over, his free hand holding your own as he could feel his own high approaching. with the final rub to your clit, your breath stitched as your orgasm rushed through every inch of you, shaking your body beneath him.

the sight alone was enough to bring him to his own high, giving you one last sloppy thrust before cumming, his fingers on your clit not letting up as he chased you through your high, your moans twisting into one another.

his fingers fell, alongside your leg on his shoulder leaving you both a shuddering mess. he immediately found home, his forehead touching yours whilst your breaths mingled, panting at one another.

you spent a few minutes just like that, getting your bearings before he slowly pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum trailing out of you.

“you okay, did i go too hard?” he cooed at you, his hands reaching for your face as he planted sweet kisses over your cheeks.

“felt so good, kookie. felt perfect.” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck immediately, pulling him down to properly meet you beside him.

he could hardly believe it. the love of his life, cuddling into him after a session of pure passion and lust. he was addicted to you; sure that no other drug would be as potent as you. completely ruined from the inside out.

you both stayed silent for a while, simply caressing and kissing each other. it felt so pure, so right that you felt ashamed knowing you hadn’t told him your feelings earlier. you had long forgotten everything that happened that night, your brain totally encompassed by the thought of him.

“i’m never going to live down the fact i should have confessed to you earlier.” he frowned at you. “we wasted so much time.”

to this, you giggled, holding him close. “we were idiots, but i guess this means we have to make up for it, right?”

jungkook grinned widely at your words, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your fingertips. “firstly,” he began, sitting up slightly so that you could look at him properly. “i love you, love you so much i can’t breathe when i look at you.”

you took him in, a bashful smile forming. “secondly, know i didn’t properly ask but this makes you my girlfriend, right?” he asked, smiling wider as he watched you nod excitedly with a squeak. “not for long though, i’ll put a pretty ring on that finger in no time.”

your mouth fell open at his words, eyes widening. “jungkook, you can’t say that!” you giggled, evidently very giddy at his words. say more, your heart screamed.

“please, i’ve learnt my lesson y/n. not wasting any more time.” he teased back, the two of you embracing and sharing a sweet kiss.

this was everything you both had wanted and more, spending the rest of the night talking, embracing and perhaps dabbling in other pleasurable activities. soon, you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. home, at last.

——

“you owe me like 50.” namjoon grinned widely at jimin.

the group had walked into jungkook’s apartment, each bringing breakfast assortments and flowers for you to make sure you were alright. they had been so worried last night that they’d gone straight home, each of them unsure of what to do but all understanding that the safest place for you to be was with jungkook.

when jin had seen yoongi and examined the redness of his knuckles, he couldn’t help but grin, knowing full well the boy had probably paid jaehyun a little visit sometime in the night. neither party said anything, but an understanding was shared. you were the youngest of the group, and of course, they were incredibly protective.

what they didn’t, expect, however was to see you cuddled up in jungkook’s arms, the two of you snoring away, evidently naked considering the duvet was hardly doing anything for modesty. upon sight of this, they all silently cheered, filtering out into the living room.

“no way, you ALL owe me 80, i said they’d fuck, you guys just said they’d confess.” yejin chimed in with a grumble, prodding a figure into the taller man’s chest.

hobi couldn’t help his giggles as he began unpacking breakfast. “whatever, can we all just be glad that this ordeal is finally over?”

taehyung nodded. “no more y/n pining.”

“no more jungkook whining.” jin added.

“no more will they, won’t they.” namjoon grinned, grabbing a seat at jungkook’s kitchen table.

“no more does she lo-“ yejin began, before shutting her mouth immediately. all eyes furrowed, including hers, straining their ears to hear the sudden noises forming in the bedroom as their heads snapped, looking over.

a moan filtered out into the air to which everyone groaned, realising what had instead replaced it. “pack it up, lovebirds.” jin shouted loudly. “breakfast on the table in 5, i expect you out and showered.”

2K notes · View notes

jincapableoflove · 5 months ago

Text

A Jar Full of Us | one-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook, your best friend, knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2K+

Warnings: arguments, jungkook is a jerk, misunderstandings (a lottt of it), angstttt, reader and jk are huge idiots, mutual pining, implied smut (its not too detailed so that the story maintains the emotional connectivity), romantic intimacy, tooth-rotting fluff.

MOODBOARD

A/N: HERE IT ISSS! this is the longest fic ive written! tysm for all the support yall have given me in the teaser of this fic. i put out a taglist thinking no one would actually want to be a part of it but so many of yall asked to be tagged 😭 im so grateful! tysm i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writng it. lmk ur thoughts abt it after u read too <3 ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY (someone date me pls)

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the dorm, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night, one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to study.

Joy, your roommate, is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside your bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box. You pull it out carefully, as if it were a fragile secret, and place it on your lap.

A soft breath escapes you as you grab a nearby pen and a book, neatly tearing out a tiny slip of paper. The motion is second nature now. Without even thinking, you let your emotions spill onto the paper, crafting a fleeting moment into something permanent.

Tonight’s memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, “Looks kinda pretty, right?” He knew how much you loved the moon how it fascinated you in a way you could never quite put into words. And he had remembered. Of course, he had remembered.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as you write:

Jungkook remembers the little things.

Once the ink dries, you fold the note with care and add it to the collection. The box is almost full now, brimming with countless tiny confessions, whispers of feelings you’ve never had the courage to say aloud. A hundred little moments, a hundred little thoughts, all dedicated to the boy who had unknowingly stolen your heart.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, your best friend, who always saves you the last bite of his food, even when it’s his favorite. Jungkook, who sends you blurry pictures of the moon just because he knows you love them. Jungkook, who insists on studying with you, despite his major being entirely different from yours, just so he can make sure you actually open a book instead of procrastinating.

This little tradition of yours had started as a joke. One night, after an especially soft moment where Jungkook had wordlessly placed his hoodie over your head because you were shivering, you had scribbled on a piece of paper: Jungkook is warmer than the sun.

You had smiled to yourself as you rolled up the paper and dropped it into the box. It had felt oddly nice to preserve that moment, capturing the feeling of it in something tangible. So you did it again. And again. And again.

Until, one day, you realized you had written over a hundred of them.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadn’t planned to confess.

But each tiny slip of paper holds a truth your heart refuses to say aloud.

And you're going to keep it a secret forever.

You met Jungkook almost three years ago, during freshman year. The first time you met him, he had been infuriatingly kind.

You had been struggling under the weight of a precariously tall stack of books, barely able to see over them, when suddenly, a few disappeared from the top. Startled, you looked up to see Jungkook grinning at you, effortlessly holding the books you had nearly dropped.

"You looked like you were about to tip over," he teased, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a playful huff, you had responded, "Maybe I wanted it to tip over."

Jungkook had only laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you next time," he had promised.

That night, you had written a tiny note and slipped it into your box: He wants to catch me when I fall, even without me asking.

From that moment on, your friendship grew in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first. Midnight walks and late night study sessions became routine, pulling you closer together with every shared moment. What had started as swapping notes for the one class you had together turned into sharing secrets. Somewhere along the way, before you even realized it, Jungkook had become your favorite person.

The box was almost full now.

You had written so many things over the years, each note capturing a small piece of him, a fragment of your feelings. Some were simple observations:

Jungkook frowns when he eats something delicious.

His hair is always a mess in the mornings. He hates it, but I love it.

His eyes smile before his lips do.

But one night, you had written something different. Something deeper. Something that felt like the truest thing you had ever put to paper.

I love him.

The moment the ink dried, panic had set in. You had almost torn it up, almost removed it from the box as if keeping it there would somehow make it real. But in the end, you had left it. Because the box was safe. No one was going to see it.

Especially not Jungkook.

One afternoon, you came back from your classes, ready to relax and unwind before the stress of exams fully set in. You had been looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe even a movie marathon with Jungkook to take your mind off things for a while.

But the moment you stepped into your dorm, you felt something was off.

Joy was sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee, her expression smug... too smug. A knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she watched you walk in, and instantly, your stomach twisted with unease.

You narrowed your eyes. "What did you do?"

"I did you a favor," she said casually, taking another slow sip of her coffee.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "What favor?" you asked, dread creeping into your voice.

Joy grinned. "I found that little cute box of yours."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if what she was about to say wasn’t about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought—what a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. So…I wrapped it up and dropped it off at his place."

Silence.

A deafening, all-consuming silence as her words echoed in your head.

"You WHAT?!"

Your entire body froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as horror washed over you in waves. Your chest felt tight, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Joy merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the sheer panic on your face. "You're welcome," she said cheekily before promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.

But you couldn’t chase after her. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ringing in your ears.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Still desperate to deny the possibility, you dropped to your knees and scrambled to check under your bed, your hands shaking as you reached into the familiar space where you had hidden the box for years.

Empty.

It was gone.

The tiny wooden box that held a hundred little moments, a hundred little secrets—your secrets—was gone.

And now it was in Jungkook's hands.

Of all people… Jungkook.

Jungkook lived in an apartment a little further away from your dorm. The second the realization hit, you bolted out the door without a second thought, heart pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Your plan was simple. Get to his apartment before he did. You knew his habits well enough to guess that he was probably grabbing a late lunch at that fast-food place near campus. If luck was on your side, you still had time.

He hadn’t seen it yet.

He couldn’t have seen it yet.

As you ran, your mind spiralled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenario, each one worse than the last.

What if he had already opened it?

What if he read through every single note?

What if he found the one that said I love him?

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He was your person.

And now, he might know that you wanted to be more than just friends.

The mere thought made your chest tighten as memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. The times you spent together at the arcade, the countless movie nights, the time you and Jungkook had crashed Jimin’s birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.

And then…there was that moment.

The moment you almost confessed.

"I wish I could find someone who truly understood me," he had said one night, his voice softer than usual, lost in thought.

And you had almost said it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue, so painfully close—"I do."

But you swallowed them down.

Because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?

And now, thanks to Joy, you didn’t have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkook’s apartment.

The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.

Would he laugh?

Would he think it was weird?

Would he—

Would he reject you?

No. No. No.

You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. You’re going to get there before he does. You’re going to take the box back, and he’s never going to know about it.

That was the plan.

It had to work.

As soon as you reached Jungkook’s apartment building, you barely paused to catch your breath. Your legs ached from running, but panic kept you moving. You made a beeline for the mailbox section in the lobby, frantically scanning the names, searching for his.

Box 109.

You yanked it open.

Empty.

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then, finally, you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

Your secret, sacred collection of unsent confessions, of words meant only for the safety of your own solitude. The pieces of your heart you had never dared to show him.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

No, no, no, no—

"You—" You gasped, barely able to form words, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought for air. "You opened it?"

Jungkook blinked, holding the box loosely in one hand, fingers curled around the edges as if he had been going through its contents just moments ago. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," he said simply, as if the weight of the universe hadn’t just come crashing down on you.

Oh. Oh no.

Your legs wobbled. You had to physically stop yourself from collapsing right there in front of him.

His gaze flickered downward, and you followed it instinctively. In his other hand, he held one of the notes. One of your notes. The handwriting was unmistakably yours, a little smudged, a little rushed, but still legible.

He cleared his throat, then read aloud.

"I don’t know when it happened. But one day, he became my favorite person."

Silence.

It stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You thought you might actually pass out.

"Jungkook, I—" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.

And then, to your absolute horror—

He smiled.

Not a teasing smirk, not an awkward grimace, but a real, genuine, knowing smile. A little shy, a little amused, as if the weight of what he had just discovered didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it did you.

And then—oh god—he spoke again.

"So… do you still think my hair looks best when it’s messy?"

Your breath hitched.

Your brain went blank.

You wanted to scream.

The change was almost instant.

In the days that followed, Jungkook became… different.

Not in the way you had imagined, though.

You had been bracing yourself for a talk, a conversation where he’d tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didn’t feel the same way. Or, at the very least, a moment of awkwardness before things slowly went back to normal.

But instead, Jungkook just… pulled away.

It started subtly at first. He stopped texting as much. The late-night calls that once lasted for hours dwindled into one-word replies and seen messages. The casual lunch meetups, the spontaneous arcade runs, the easy, natural way he used to gravitate towards you in a crowded room. all of it changed.

And yet, despite the distance, he never fully let you go.

Instead, he turned it into a joke.

Like today, when he leaned in far too close for comfort, during your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.

"So, I’m warmer than the sun, huh?"

You stiffened instantly, your hands tightening around your pen. He pulled back with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with mischief as he watched your reaction unfold in real-time.

It was unbearable.

He kept doing it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him— really talk to him —he would either dodge the conversation entirely or turn it into something lighthearted, something unserious.

Like the time you finally found him alone, determined to just get it over with, to ask what had changed between you two. Before you could even get the words out, he cut you off with another one of those smirks, his voice laced with amusement.

"So I look best in black? Good to know."

And then he walked away.

That was when you finally got the message.

Jungkook had taken it as a joke.

He didn’t care about your feelings.

It was like the caring, affectionate boy you had known for years had vanished the moment your heart had been laid bare. Like now that the truth was out in the open, he didn’t know how to handle it so he chose to mock it instead.

And worst of all?

He was pulling away from you completely.

The time you used to spend together? Gone. He was hanging out with other people now, filling his days with anyone but you. And when you did manage to cross paths, he only acknowledged you through those insufferable little comments, those cruel reminders of the things you had never meant for him to see.

It hurt. More than you wanted to admit.

Because maybe you had hoped that if he knew how you felt…

He wouldn’t push you away like this.

The next week brought the on-campus career fair an event mandatory for all students. You weren’t particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.

Or so you thought.

Because that’s when you saw him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was walking around with Hana, a junior from your college. They moved easily through the crowd, side by side, completely immersed in conversation. And then, to make things even worse... he laughed.

A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t expecting him to make it this obvious.

If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didn’t feel the same way, you could live with that. But did he really have to parade it around like this?

Maybe this was his way of sending a message. Maybe he wanted you to know, without actually having to say it out loud.

A silent rejection.

What a jerk.

These days, you barely have the motivation to attend classes. You go through the motions, waking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lectures. But your mind isn’t really there.

Because no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, the brutal reality of rejection lingers like a shadow, following you everywhere you go.

Jungkook threw away your feelings like they meant nothing.

You should have expected it, right? You should have known this was how it would turn out.

Maybe you were never meant to be anything more than a friend to him. Maybe, the moment he realized you held deeper feelings for him, he got scared. Or worse, maybe he just didn’t care at all.

The thought makes your chest ache.

Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. You’ve seen it in the way he talks about love, in the way he watches romance movies with a dreamy look in his eyes. But clearly, you were never part of that dream.

And now, because of your stupid feelings, you’ve ruined everything.

You used to be his best friend. The one he joked around with, the one he trusted, the one he leaned on.

But now?

Now he barely looks at you.

And if he does, it's only to throw some teasing remark your way like your feelings were some kind of joke.

The person you were most angry at was Joy.

Not Jungkook. Not yourself.

Joy.

Because none of this would have happened if she had just left that damn box alone.

That day after the box incident, the moment you stepped back into your dorm, she was there, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened. She glanced up as you walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“I didn’t expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys would—” she wiggled her eyebrows—“get freaky after the whole confession, you know?”

She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.

But then she saw your face.

Her laughter faded. “Wait… what happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlier—Jungkook’s teasing, his smirk, his distance.

You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. “I… I’m sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, no, he loved it.” You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your help, Joy.”

Her expression faltered. “Wait… what do you mean?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “Jungkook probably thinks I’m pathetic now.”

Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. “I— I really thought—” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, now you know he didn’t.”

Silence settled between you both.

And for the first time, Joy didn’t have anything to say.

The next time you see Jungkook, he’s with Hana again.

They’re standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You don’t mean to eavesdrop you’re not even sure why you stop but the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.

Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. “Are you sure she won't find out?”

Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… Maybe it's better this way”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your first instinct is denial maybe they’re not talking about you. Maybe it’s about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.

As far as you’re aware, there isn’t another she in Jungkook’s life. Not before. Not when you were still close.

You’ve already been replaced.

Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find out because he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.

It isn’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself to step back, turning away from the scene before you can hear any more.

You decide then that no matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feel, you can’t bear being apart from Jungkook.

Even if he doesn’t love you back.

Even if he only sees you as a friend.

Losing him completely? That’s not something you’re ready for. Maybe you never will be.

So, you do the only thing you can think of.

You wait for him after class.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch the door, your hands clammy with nerves. When Jungkook finally steps out, your breath catches. He looks the same—same hoodie, same soft brown eyes—but everything feels different now.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

"I get it, okay?" you say, voice firm despite the way your throat tightens. "You don’t like me. And that’s fine. I hope she makes you happy."

Jungkook halts mid-step.

His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.

"You don’t understand," he mutters.

"Then make me understand, Jungkook," you plead. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to keep going, even as your last shred of dignity slips through your fingers. "Can we still be friends, at least?"

Silence.

Jungkook doesn’t reply.

And somehow, that hurts more than rejection ever could.

There's a party happening, hosted by one of the biggest party animals on campus. Everyone is invited, and Joy insists that you go.

After much convincing, you finally give in. You've mended things with her and finally forgiven her. Maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe you just needed someone to blame.

You decide to go, hoping for a distraction. Maybe the music, the drinks, and the endless chatter will help you forget, even if just for a night.

But you already know Jungkook will be there.

Probably Hana too.

And that's fine.

You'll just stay out of their way.

The party is in full swing when you arrive with loud music, flashing lights, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor, and the unmistakable smell of booze in the air. Bottles are being passed around, and the energy is electric.

A few friends from your classes spot you and pull you in, offering drinks. You take them all without hesitation, reaching for the strongest ones, letting the alcohol burn away the ache in your chest.

Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Good. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe you can actually enjoy yourself tonight.

With the alcohol settling in, your limbs feel lighter, your mind a little hazy. You dance to the outdated playlist blaring through the speakers, laugh with strangers, and let yourself let go just for a while.

But after some time, it all feels like too much. The heat, the noise, the overwhelming buzz in your veins. You slip away from the crowd and make your way to the rooftop, breathing in the crisp night air, letting it cool your flushed skin.

And then you sense someone else's presence.

You turn, your head spinning slightly, and there he is.

Jungkook.

You blink, wondering if you're imagining him, but his gaze is fixed on you, a slight furrow between his brows. There's something like concern in his expression as he watches you, taking in your drunken state.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

The alcohol makes everything feel lighter, your body, your thoughts, your inhibitions. So when you see Jungkook standing there, looking at you with that unreadable expression, the words just spill out before you can stop them.

“I liked you, you know,” you mumble, swaying slightly. “But now I realize… I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook doesn’t react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.

He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll be fine,” he says simply, then turns on his heel and walks away.

Just like that.

The cool night air suddenly feels suffocating, the weight in your chest heavier than ever. You watch his retreating figure, your heart shattering all over again.

The next morning, you wake up with the nastiest headache ever. Your head throbs, your mouth is dry, and your body feels like it’s been wrung out. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as the hazy memories from last night slowly piece themselves together.

Jungkook. The rooftop. The way he just… walked away like he didn’t care.

You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. There’s no point dwelling on it. Your exams are approaching, and you need to focus.

Deciding to get some studying done, you head to the library. The quiet atmosphere should help clear your head or at least distract you from the mess that is your life.

But the moment you step inside, your breath catches.

Jungkook is sitting at the table you both used to frequent, completely absorbed in scribbling something into a notebook. For a second, you consider turning around, but then something catches your eye.

He rips out a small piece of paper, folds it neatly, and without hesitation, slips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.

Your heart clenches.

Is it for Hana?

You don’t stick around to find out. Before Jungkook can notice you, you turn on your heel and walk away.

February 10th. Your birthday.

You wake up with a small flicker of hope. Maybe today would be different. Maybe Jungkook had been ignoring you all this time because he was planning something, some kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?

Surely.

So you wait.

By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messages from friends, family, even distant relatives reaching out to wish you. Everyone but Jungkook.

Not even a single text.

The hope that had carried you through the day starts to crumble, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t go to class. What’s the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.

That’s when Joy bursts into your room with a grin.

"You got a package!" she announces, holding out a neatly wrapped box.

Your heart leaps.

Jungkook?

You rush over, fingers fumbling as you tear open the wrapping, only for your stomach to drop.

It’s from your parents.

Disappointment washes over you, but you push it aside. They went through the trouble of sending you something, and you should be grateful. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile as you pick up your phone and call them.

"Thank you," you say, voice steady. Because at least someone remembered.

There was still time.

It was only evening plenty of hours left before midnight. Jungkook would surely text before then. He had to.

Joy, noticing your gloomy mood, tries to lift your spirits. "Come on, let’s go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."

But you shake your head. "I’m not in the mood."

She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesn’t push you. Instead, she flops onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I hate this," she mutters. "I hate seeing you like this. And I hate him for treating you this way."

Her voice is laced with anger, but there’s something else there too—guilt.

Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.

If she hadn’t sent that gift early, if she hadn’t tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldn’t be spending your birthday like this waiting for a boy who might never come around.

Jungkook didn’t text that day.

He forgot your birthday.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a message that never came. Midnight passed, and still nothing.

The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.

Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day.

You can’t afford to miss any more classes. You haven’t stepped foot on campus since your birthday, but today, you decide to go.

You have no motivation to see or talk to anyone. You tell yourself that you’ll just quietly attend your classes and head straight back home. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions.

But as soon as you reach campus, you notice a crowd gathering. There’s some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Great. Just great.

Everything about it feels like the universe is mocking you, rubbing salt on an already raw wound. Heart-shaped decorations, pink confetti floating in the air, and couples laughing completely oblivious to how suffocating it feels for you.

You try to move past the crowd, but suddenly, someone pushes forward, and you get caught in the chaos. You stumble, losing your balance and bracing for impact—

But you don’t hit the ground.

Because Jungkook catches you.

His hands grip your arms, steadying you out of instinct. His touch is firm and warm, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

For the first time in days, you look up at him. And for the first time in days, he looks right back at you.

He doesn’t let go of you immediately.

His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like he’s grounding himself, like he’s hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something.

The music playing in the background fades into a distant hum. Everything around you slows. The laughter, the chatter, the festival lights it all blurs.

All that’s left is him.

Still holding you.

Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.

“Do you even care, Jungkook?”

His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see something something raw and unspoken flash through his eyes.

But then, like a switch flipping, he lets go.

So fast that you nearly stumble again.

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.

Then he turns. Walks away.

And you’re left standing there, alone in the middle of a festival meant for love.

This is it.

This is your answer.

Jungkook has made his choice.

And now, it’s time for you to make yours.

You have to move on.

That night, you decide. Jungkook was never meant to be yours.

It’s a painful truth, one you’ve been avoiding, but tonight, you accept it.

Needing a distraction, you start clearing out your closet, pulling out old clothes, forgotten trinkets, anything to keep your hands busy. That’s when you see it.

The pink heart-shaped box.

Your breath hitches.

You had snatched it from his hands that day, barely able to meet his gaze before bolting out of his apartment and driving straight back to your dorm. You had shoved it deep into your closet, hoping that if you buried it away, you could bury your feelings too.

For a moment, you consider throwing it away. What’s the point of holding onto it now? Jungkook knows. He read the notes, saw every piece of your heart laid bare. And in the end, it changed nothing.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid.

One by one, you pull out the little folded papers, unfolding memories you once held so close.

"I don’t know when it happened, but one day, he became my favourite person."

"His laugh is my favorite sound."

"I wish he knew how much he means to me."

Tears blur your vision.

You never wanted him to know.

Because you never wanted to lose him.

And now, you have.

The weight of it crashes over you all at once, and before you can stop it, the tears spill over, hot and relentless.

You clutch the notes to your chest as silent sobs wrack your body.

You’ve been holding the pain in for too long.

So tonight, you let the dams break.

And you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You feel miserable.

Forget having a Valentine this year, you don’t even have a best friend anymore.

So you stay in bed all day, buried under the covers, refusing to acknowledge the world outside.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to last year’s Valentine’s Day.

You and Jungkook had gone out for dinner not as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didn’t have dates. You remember how he laughed at the terrible restaurant music, how he stole fries from your plate like they were his.

You miss it.

No—wait. You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Shaking off the thought, you grab your Nintendo Switch and start playing, trying to distract yourself.

Then the doorbell rings.

You ignore it. Joy is probably home she’ll get it.

But it rings again.

What is Joy doing?

Then it hits you that she probably stayed over at her boyfriend’s place last night.

With a groan, you push off the covers and make your way to the door. You swing it open, ready to shoo away whoever it is—

But there’s no one there.

Your gaze drops to the ground.

And then you see it.

A singular jar, placed carefully on the doormat.

You stare at the jar, a strange sense of familiarity creeping in, but you can’t quite place it.

Where have you seen something like this before?

Your mind scrambles for an answer, flipping through memories like pages in a book, but nothing surfaces.

With hesitant fingers, you reach down and pick it up, feeling the cool glass against your palm. It’s heavier than you expected.

That’s when you notice the writing on the lid, scrawled in red marker.

"To Y/N."

Your heart stutters.

You blink, trying to steady your breath, but the moment feels unreal—like you’ve stepped into a dream.

It’s only then that you notice the jar is filled with tiny rolled-up notes, crammed inside like secrets waiting to be unraveled.

Your mind starts spiraling.

What is this? Who left it? Why does it have your name?

Your hands tremble as you twist the lid open, the slight pop of the seal echoing in the silence.

You reach inside, fingers brushing against the countless little slips of paper.

With bated breath, you pull one out.

You carefully unroll it, eyes scanning the words scribbled in rushed, familiar handwriting.

"I lied."

That’s all it says.

Two words.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes trace the messy yet unmistakable handwriting.

Jungkook.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your pulse quickens.

It’s his.

The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into you—

Yesterday.

The crowd. The music. The overwhelming blur of people around you.

You had stumbled, nearly falling, only for Jungkook to catch you. For a fleeting moment, he held you close. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

You had searched his face, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even care, Jungkook?"

You had wanted him to say yes. Even a little. Anything to make the ache in your chest feel less unbearable.

But instead—

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words had cut deeper than you ever thought possible.

And then he had let go. So fast, like touching you had burned him. Like you meant nothing at all.

You remember the way your heart had cracked, the way he had disappeared into the sea of people, leaving you stranded in the middle of a festival meant for love.

But now... Now you stand here, gripping a jar full of his words.

"I lied."

Your hands fumble as you reach into the jar again, pulling out another note.

Unrolling it with shaky fingers, you read:

"I thought if I pushed you away, it’d be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I don’t want you to."

A sharp pang strikes your chest.

Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop party—drunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.

“I liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook had stood there, silent, unreadable, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

No apology. No denial. Nothing.

And then, just as effortlessly, he had turned away.

"You'll be fine," he'd said before walking off, leaving you alone in the cold night.

The memory burns like an open wound, and yet, here you are, standing in your doorway, holding the truth he should have told you that night in the palm of your hands.

Your fingers tremble as you pull out the next note.

"I missed your birthday on purpose because I wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a text."

Your breath hitches.

He didn’t forget?

He chose not to text?

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, but it fades just as quickly as the weight of his words settles in.

You reach into the jar again, pulling out another note, heart pounding against your ribs.

What you didn’t know was that Jungkook had spent hours writing your birthday note.

He had sat at his desk that night, a dozen crumpled papers around him, rewriting the same message over and over, never satisfied. His hands had been shaky when he finally folded the note and slipped it into the jar.

Because words were permanent.

Because he was afraid.

Because deep down, he knew that if he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldn’t be able to push you away anymore.

And that terrified him.

Your grip on the jar tightens as you pull out the next note.

"I was scared you’d see me in the library that day. And you did. I almost stopped writing. But I wanted to finish this for you."

Your breath catches in your throat as a memory rushes back—

The library.

That afternoon, when you had finally dragged yourself back to campus to study for your exams, you had seen him sitting at your usual table, scribbling something into his notebook.

At the time, you thought nothing of it until you watched him tear out a tiny slip of paper and slip it into a jar.

A jar.

The very same one you now hold in your trembling hands.

Back then, you had turned away, assuming it was for Hana.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you.

Every note in this jar was for you.

Your vision blurs as you stare down at the tiny rolled-up messages still waiting to be read.

He had been writing to you all along.

By the time you reach the last few notes, your hands are trembling. Maybe you can’t even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandings, every ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didn’t care, crashes down on you all at once.

Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.

"You thought I didn’t care. But I did. I always did."

A sob escapes your lips, the ache in your chest unbearable.

You clutch the jar against you like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held because it is. Because it’s him.

Every unspoken word. Every hidden feeling. Every truth he was too afraid to say aloud.

And now, you finally know.

Your breath catches as you reach the bottom of the jar, realizing the significance there are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.

With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.

“I was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope it’s not too late for you to read them.”

Your chest tightens.

You take a deep breath and reach for the last note, your fingers trembling. Slowly, you unroll it, heart pounding in your ears.

“Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

The paper almost slips from your fingers as your vision blurs with fresh tears. A shaky laugh escapes your lips, somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

After everything, after all the silence, the pain, the misunderstandings he’s finally saying it.

And suddenly, all that matters is what you’ll do next.

The moment the words register, you don’t think.

The jar nearly slips from your grasp as you scramble to your feet, your heartbeat hammering louder than the thoughts racing through your mind. Jungkook. He couldn’t have gone far he must have just dropped it off.

You fling the door open, barefoot, barely even stopping to grab your keys. The cold air bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You sprint down the stairs, nearly stumbling in your rush to get outside.

Your eyes dart wildly around the street, your breath coming out in frantic puffs. Where is he?

Then, you see him.

A few feet away, Jungkook is walking slowly, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s already bracing for disappointment. Like he’s already convinced you won’t come after him.

But you do.

“Jungkook!”

He freezes.

You don’t stop running until you’re right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

His eyes widen when he sees you messy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You swallow hard, voice shaking. “Did you mean it?”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Then, barely above a whisper, “Yeah.”

Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.

"You absolute jerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything he’s put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you were—" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "—writing these?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say next.

"You could’ve just told me, Jungkook. You could’ve just—" You pause, gripping the jar like it’s the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"

He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

"Because I was a coward."

You blink. You weren’t expecting him to admit it so easily.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, looking away. "I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do. If I let you think I didn’t care, maybe you’d move on. Maybe you’d find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like I did."

Your throat tightens. Your fingers dig into the glass of the jar. "You were the one hurting me, Jungkook."

His eyes finally meet yours, and the weight of them almost knocks the air from your lungs. He looks wrecked.

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Then why?" Your voice trembles, frustration bubbling over. "Why did you let me think I was chasing something that wasn’t even there?"

His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesn’t answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.

"Because I was afraid you’d realize you deserved better."

Silence settles between you. A silence so thick it presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your vision blurring. You should walk away. You should scream, cry, or do anything. But instead, you do the only thing you can think of.

You reach into the jar, grab a note at random, and shove it into his hand. "Read it."

Jungkook hesitates. Then, slowly, he unfolds the paper. His fingers tremble as he reads the words he once wrote.

"If I had been braver, I would’ve told you every single day how much you meant to me."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you can’t quite name.

"Say it now," you whisper.

Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

You wait. Trembling, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his. Daring him to finally, finally say it.

He exhales shakily. His voice is low, rough like it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.

"Y/N…"

You don’t look away. Don’t let him run from this.

His throat bobs. His hand curls into a fist at his side, then slowly unclenches.

"I love you."

A sharp inhale cuts through you. Even though you were waiting for it, the words hit like a tidal wave.

Jungkook shakes his head, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it just raw, aching regret.

"I loved you then. I love you now. And I don’t think there’s a single version of me that won’t love you."

Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.

"Then why—" your voice cracks, "—why did you let me think you didn’t?"

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. His face twists with something close to pain.

"Because I was scared." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself have you, I’d ruin you. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it."

Your hands clench at your sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

He nods. Swallows hard. Takes a step closer.

"I know." His voice is softer now. "And if I could go back, I’d do it all differently. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and tell you—"

Your lips crash into his, years of longing and heartbreak unraveling in a single, desperate moment. Your fingers fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, closing the distance like you’ve been waiting forever. Because you have.

Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The kiss isn’t soft it’s frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. It’s a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent pushing you away.

Jungkook tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs through you as his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand spreads against your back, pressing you impossibly closer, like even this isn’t enough, like he’d fuse you together if he could.

You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstanding crumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking. Like a promise.

When you finally pull apart, neither of you lets go.

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, still uneven, still shaken. His hands remain on your waist like he’s afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.

Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. “Then spend every day proving that you do.”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh one that sounds broken and real, like he can’t believe he’s still allowed to have this moment with you.

“Deal,” he murmurs.

And then he kisses you again.

The door barely clicks shut before Jungkook is on you again, his hands framing your face as his lips crash into yours. There’s no hesitation now, no careful restraint only heat, only the raw, aching need that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

His body presses against yours, pushing you back into the door, and you gasp against his lips. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours with slow, deliberate intent. He tastes like something addictive like want, like longing, like the kind of hunger that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roam down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips skimming along your bare skin. His touch is scorching, leaving a trail of fire wherever he moves. He pauses, his breath ragged, lips barely brushing yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice rough, uneven.

You shake your head, tilting your chin up until your lips ghost over his again. "I don’t want you to stop."

The words break something inside him.

His mouth crashes onto yours again, hungrier this time, more desperate. His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard lines of his body, the way his chest rises and falls unsteadily against yours. One hand grips your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides lower, gripping your thigh and hitching it up against his hip.

A quiet moan escapes you at the feeling, and he groans in response, pressing harder into you. His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, where he lingers. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he soothes it with his tongue, sucking gently, enough to make you arch into him, enough to make your breath hitch.

"Jungkook—" His name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he exhales sharply against your skin, like the sound is enough to undo him.

His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, hands settling under your thighs. Instinct takes over, and your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you across the room. He lays you down on the bed with care, but there’s nothing careful about the way he follows you down, covering your body with his own.

He hovers above you, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes searching yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his touch unbearably light.

"You’re sure?" he whispers, voice thick with something heady.

Your only answer is a whispered "Yes," breathless, certain.

Something shifts in him at your words. His lips find yours again, but this time, he takes his time exploring, savoring, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you. His kisses trail downward, along the curve of your neck, across your collarbone, his mouth mapping out a path of heat and sensation. His hands move with just as much purpose, slipping under fabric, pushing it aside, fingers tracing bare skin with an intimacy that makes your pulse stutter.

Every brush of his lips, every slow, deliberate touch sends waves of electricity through you, igniting something deep and primal. Clothes are discarded in slow, teasing movements, the heat between you building with every layer that falls away.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, down your arm, over the curve of your breasts, his breath hot and uneven. He watches you, eyes dark with something intense, something almost reverent, as his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your bare skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, voice filled with something deeper than desire.

You reach for him, pulling him back up, needing his mouth on yours again, needing more. He obliges, kissing you fiercely, like he never wants to stop, like this moment has been waiting to happen for far too long.

His hands explore moving towards your heat, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, like he’s making up for all the lost time. You arch into him, breath hitching, hands gripping onto his shoulders as heat coils low in your stomach.

"Jungkook," you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

His breath catches, and he exhales shakily. "I’ve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "I’m right here."

And then there’s no more talking only movement, only passion, only the feeling of finally, finally being exactly where you both belong.

The air is thick with warmth, bodies tangled beneath the sheets, hearts pounding in tandem as the last echoes of your shared breaths settle between you. The world outside might still be turning, but in this moment, it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him, skin against skin, the weight of what just happened pressing down like the softest, heaviest thing in the world.

Your body is spent, muscles trembling faintly from the aftershocks, but you don’t move. You can’t.

Jungkook is still holding you. One arm draped lazily around your waist, the other tracing absentminded patterns against your back. His touch is slow, soothing, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real. Like if he lets go, you might slip away.

You stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync, your head resting just above his heart. The rhythm of it is steady now, no longer racing like it had been just moments ago. Still, there’s a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.

It’s you who finally breaks it.

“So…” You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. “Hana knew about the jar?”

His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but there’s amusement in it too.

“She didn’t just know about it.” His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. “It was her idea.”

You blink. “…What?”

Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Yeah. She was the one who told me to do it—to fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “She also threatened to expose me if I didn’t.”

You scoff, though you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. “So let me get this straight… You couldn’t tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?”

Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. “I didn’t tell her. She just… figured it out.”

Of course, she did.

You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. “Still. She knew before I did.”

Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you jealous?”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss you, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into it. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

Then, softer now, more serious, he murmurs, “Are you gonna answer me?”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Answer what?”

Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouched except for the last one.

“The question,” he says, retrieving the single unfolded slip of paper. He holds it between you, and even though you already know what it says, your heart still stutters when your eyes skim over the words again.

Y/N, will you be my Valentine?

Earlier, you had left it unanswered, too overwhelmed by everything that had come before it. But now, after everything after confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other again—there’s no hesitation.

You reach out, plucking the note from his fingers. Slowly, carefully, you fold it again, tucking it beneath your pillow like something precious, something worth keeping. Then, meeting his gaze, you whisper, “You never needed to ask.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Your breath catches. Not because of his confidence but because, deep down, you realize you’d never wanted to say no in the first place. Maybe you had tried to fight it. Maybe you had convinced yourself that the past had built too many walls between you. But now, lying here in the warmth of his arms, the truth settles into your bones like something that had been waiting for you to accept it all along.

It had always been him.

Your fingers tighten in the sheets as you search his gaze, looking for hesitation, for doubt for something to make this feel less like a dream. But there’s nothing. Just him. Just you. Just this moment you both fought so hard to reach.

Jungkook watches you, waiting, always waiting, his hand still resting against your cheek as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

So you close the distance.

You kiss him slowly this time, letting it sink in. The warmth of his lips, the taste of him still lingering, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing the same air, hearts beating in time.

And then, with a quiet, knowing smile, you whisper, “Then don’t.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his expression shiftingas if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you against him again, tucking you close, his hand slipping into yours beneath the sheets.

Neither of you speak for a long time after that. You don’t need to.

Outside, the world keeps turning, time moving forward just as it always does. But here, in the hush of your dorm room, wrapped up in him, it feels like the universe has paused just for you.

Not to make up for lost time.

But to remind you that some things—some people—were never really lost at all.

And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.

EPILOGUE : Years Later – Valentine’s Day

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the apartment, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, “Anything’s fine.”

Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside the bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box.

But this time, there’s something else.

Your fingers find the jar, the one that started it all.

You pull them both out carefully, as if they were a fragile secret, and place them on your lap.

Soft footsteps approach. Then, a familiar weight sinks onto the mattress beside you.

Jungkook’s voice is quieter now, fond. “Didn’t think I’d see those again.”

You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. “I don’t know what made me reach for them.”

He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. “Habit, maybe. Or fate.” Then, smirking, “You always did have a thing for digging up answers.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop the lid off the jar, fingers fishing out an old note. The paper is creased, the ink slightly faded, but you already know what it says.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

Jungkook watches you, expectant. “You never actually answered me, you know.”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “Jungkook, we’re literally married.”

“And?” He leans in, teasing. “I’m just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lips—

"Yes, Jungkook. I’ll be your Valentine."

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in. The jar sits forgotten on the floor, the pink box nestled beside it.

Once upon a time, you had pulled it out, searching for clarity. Looking for a sign.

You didn’t realize then you never needed the answers inside.

Because you’d already found them.

Because you’d found him.

And maybe that was the answer all along.

taglist: @iamstilljk @hirochan112 @withluvjm @amarawayne @jeon-has-left-you-on-seen @blueofocean @tattzjeon @tsick @stuti2904 @gukkiebabysblog @taekritimin123 @whisperingonyx @sadgirlroo @nerdycheol @hoshiskimchi @blueberriesm @kooksrqcer @minimoninini @dreamersparacosm @yok00k @whothefuckisthishoe @prxdajeon @darkangelfei @sunainasworld @kia091106 @khadeeeeej @welcometomyworld13 @noshametempo @bakuhoethotski @ohyeah35sworld

thank you so much for reading! let me know what u think about it <3

3K notes · View notes

kooklovee · 4 months ago

Text

Ruined Right (m) - JJK

Your boyfriend’s back to you on a break from his military training. In other words, you’re making up for the lost time in the hottest, messiest way possible.

Pairing - bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader

Genre - 18+ established relationship au, fluff, smut MDNI

Warnings - hard dom Jk, sub reader, Explicit smut - unprotected, protected sex, oral (m&f receiving), hair pulling, light choking, fingering, edging, overstimulation, head pusher Jk🥵, gagging, marking, mild degradation, doggy, man handling, rough sex, (is black lace a warning?), aftercare

Wc - 4k

a/n - have you'll seen Jungkook's vdos from a concert he attended recently.. I mean.. my man is definitely hUge🫠 anyways here's a little treat for making HOTM a hit🤗 nfhhdhjakq posted this in a hurry enjoy

Masterlist kofi

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Jungkook is attending a concert tonight.

You’re curled up on your couch, scrolling through Twitter and Instagram, and there he is. Blurry, low-quality videos flood your feed- Jungkook in the audience, dressed in a black leather jacket and that ridiculously cute brown fur hat.

He had told you earlier that he’d be attending, and now that you’re seeing him, it’s impossible to ignore how much he’s changed. His body is massive now—so much broader, so much bigger. Sending the entire internet into a meltdown.

"WTF is he eating in the military??"

"Hobi really meant it when he said Jungkook is HUGE now. I can’t breathe."

The tweets keep rolling in, people thirsting over his military physique, but none of them know what you know. None of them know that after the concert, after months of being apart, Jungkook is coming to you.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen each other. In the beginning, when he first enlisted, you managed to meet a couple of times.

But then life got in the way. his schedule, your schedule, time slipping through your fingers. Just glimpses from video calls. And now, after months of waiting, you’re finally going to see him.

You swallow hard, your heart racing.

Because if Jungkook looks this good in a grainy fan video…you can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when he’s standing right in front of you.

Your phone vibrates. Your boyfriend's name on the screen.

Kook: On my wayyyyyyy 🏃

You stand up, suddenly restless. You move to the mirror, running your fingers through your hair, adjusting your clothes, smoothing your hands over your skin.

Anticipation buzzing under your skin. It’s been so long. Too long.

The doorbell rings.

Your heart jumps. Running a quick hand through your hair, and you head for the door.

The second the door swings open, you don’t even give yourself time to process. He’s here.

Jungkook barely gets a breath in before you launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, legs instinctively locking around his waist. A surprised chuckle rumbles from his chest as his strong hands catch you with ease, holding you up like you weigh nothing.

“Woah—someone missed me,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the warmth in his tone.

“Of course I did,” you mumble against his skin, planting kisses all over his face—his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach. You feel the way his body shakes slightly with laughter, his grip on you tightening as he walks inside, shutting the door behind him without letting you go.

His scent surrounds you but there’s something different now. He’s bigger, his muscles even firmer beneath your touch, his frame broader than before. You pull back just enough to look at him properly, taking in the way his eyes soften as he gazes at you.

“Damn, baby,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a grin. “You’re not even gonna let me breathe first?”

“Not a chance,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his, your fingers threading through his oh so short hair as he holds you impossibly close.

His lips move against yours, slow at first, savoring, but then he tightens his grip, fingers pressing into your thighs as he deepens the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, and you whimper into his mouth, your body pressing closer, desperate to just feel him.

Jungkook groans lowly, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Fuck, baby… you have no idea how much I needed this.”

You swallow, heart pounding. “Then don’t hold back.”

His jaw clenches not wasting a second, carrying you straight to the bedroom.

His lips find yours again, rougher this time, his breathing heavy as he devours your mouth. You gasp against him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

By the time he reaches the bed, you’re dizzy from the kiss, from the sheer heat of his body surrounding you. He lowers you onto the mattress, but before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—caging you in, hands already roaming.

He drags his lips along your jaw, down your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His teeth graze your skin, and your body reacts instantly, arching beneath him, a soft whimper slipping past your lips.

Jungkook grins against your throat. “Missed me that much, baby?”

His tone is teasing, but the way his hands are gripping you tells you he’s just as desperate as you are.

You don’t bother answering. Instead, you pull him down, crashing your lips against his, pouring every ounce of pent-up longing into the kiss.

It’s messy, desperate, your fingers immediately working to shove his jacket off his shoulders. He lets out a low chuckle, amused by your urgency, but he doesn’t stop you. He shrugs out of the jacket with ease before tossing it aside.

Your hands barely have time to explore before he’s pulling back, just enough to grab the hem of his t-shirt.

Your breath catches as he yanks the fabric over his head in one fluid motion, revealing the full extent of how much he’s changed.

The dim light of your room casting soft shadows over the broad set of his shoulders, the sheer size of him now.

Fuck.

Your eyes roam over him, taking in everything. The way his arms flex slightly as he tosses his shirt aside. He’s so much bigger now, so much more built than before.

Jungkook's lips curls up into a smirk, dark eyes watching you as you stare, shameless. “Like what you see?”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your fingers itching to feel just how solid he’s become. Instead of answering, you reach for him, gripping his wrist and pulling him back down. You need him closer.

His hands move immediately, one gripping your waist, the other sliding up your arm.

“You’re staring too much,” he murmurs, lips brushing along your jaw before trailing down to your neck, hot and slow.

Your breath hitches as his teeth graze your skin, nails digging slightly into his shoulders, “It’s distracting.”

Jungkook exhales a quiet laugh, the sound low and knowing. With one swift tug, he pulls your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside.

His hands freeze for a second when he sees what’s underneath.

Black lace.

Delicate, barely-there black lace lingerie, the kind that clings to your curves. The kind you’ve never worn for him before.

Jungkook’s eyes darken instantly, “Fuck.” His gaze devours you, dragging over every inch of skin, before flicking back to your face.

“You wore this for me?” His tone thick with something heavy, something raw.

You nod, heat creeping up your neck, but his reaction makes you bolder. “Wanted to surprise you.”

Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose. “Baby…” He shakes his head slightly, his smirk returning, darker this time.

“You have no fucking idea what you just started."

His hands slip to your shorts, hooking his fingers into them. Slow.

“Off,” he mutters. “Now.”

And when you lift your hips, letting him strip them away, his eyes radiate just one thing—like he’s about to ruin you. Ruin you so right.

His hands hover over your skin, not quite touching yet, tongue swiping over his lower lip, eyes roaming over you, “You’re fucking dangerous,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

His hands move, gripping, spreading. Tracing their way up to your hips, dragging his fingers along the delicate lace, making sure you feel every single movement. The contrast of his rough touch against the soft fabric sends a shiver through you, your body reacting without hesitation.

“You like this?” he murmurs, his fingers teasing over the thin strap at your hip, “Wearing something this pretty—just for me?”

You barely manage a nod before he’s leaning down again, lips pressing against your stomach, open-mouthed kisses trailing lower.

His teeth graze against the sensitive fabric, right over your heat.

Your whole body jerks. A choked gasp leaves your lips.

"Relax, baby," he murmurs, his breath hot, teasing.

Jungkook’s grip tightens around your thighs, keeping them firmly in place over his shoulders. His breath warm against the soaked fabric of your lace.

His fingers slide along the delicate material, pressing lightly over your heat, making you whimper.

His tongue flicking out just enough to make your thighs tremble.

Your frustration bubbling in your throat. “Jungkook—”

“Hm?” He looks up, smirking, eyes dark and playful.

You glare at him, panting slightly.

Jungkook chuckles.

“Jungkook, please—”, you finally breathe out.

His hands flex against your thighs. “Please what?”

You swallow hard, desperate now. “Please—please touch me. No more teasing, just—”

You don’t even get to finish. Jungkook shoves the lace aside in an instant, his mouth finally pressing against your bare heat. Hot. Wet. Messy.

You cry out. He devours you whole.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans against you, hands holding you down for him. “Should’ve begged sooner.”

Your back arches off the bed, a choked moan spilling from your lips as heat floods through your veins. His tongue moves with purpose, licking up every bit of your desperation like he’s been starving for this.

“You taste so fucking good,” he mutters against you, his voice raspy. His pace steadily increasing until you’re a mess beneath him, gasping, panting.

It’s too much.

Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, your hips moving without thinking, chasing that high that’s so, so close.

“J-Jungkook—,” you breathe out, desperate now.

And then—he pulls away.

Your eyes snap open. “Wh—”

He licks his lips, his chin glistening, smirking as he watches you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your legs still trembling—

“Not yet,” his eyes dark, thumb lazily tracing your inner thigh, ignoring the way you whimper, squirming under him.

You glare at him, frustration bubbling over. “You—”

“Be patient,” he mutters against your skin, smirk never fading. He loves this. loves seeing you needy, wrecked for him.

His lips trail up, enjoying the way your body reacts, the way your breathing stutters the higher he goes.

“Still looking so pretty for me.”

His fingers tracing over the thin lace barely covering your breasts. You shudder.

He licks over the lace, dragging his tongue slowly over the sensitive peak, soaking the fabric, teasing you without giving you what you need.

“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, hands gripping his biceps, nails digging into his skin.

He hums against you, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, grinning as he does it again torturously slow.

One hand trails lower, skimming over your waist, before hooking into the waistband of your lace panties dragging them down your legs.

His hands return immediately, fingers dipping between your thighs.

“Already so wet for me,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Messy little thing, aren’t you?”

He pushes a finger inside. A sharp gasp escaping your lips at how easily he slips in.

Your hands fly to his biceps, fingers gripping onto the hard muscle, holding on as he starts working you open.

Jungkook groans, feeling the way you clench around him, so warm, so tight.

“Fuck, baby,” he exhales, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he adds another finger, stretching you perfectly, curling just right. His pace deep, perfect.

His lips attach to your neck, sucking, biting. He wants you covered in him, wants you to see the evidence of this all over your skin when he’s done.

Jungkook feels the way your grip on his biceps trembles, nails pressing into his skin.

His fingers curl, pressing against that spot that makes your back arch off the bed, a sharp moan slipping past your lips.

And the second he presses his thumb against your aching clit, a strangled gasp rips from your throat. The added pressure sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, your hips bucking against his hand instinctively, chasing the feeling.

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

His fingers move faster, deeper, his thumb pressing down just right.

“J-Jungkook—” you gasp, your voice breaking as your stomach tightens, heat rushing through you in waves.

He feels it, the way you clench around his fingers, your body shaking under his touch.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against your throat, marking you again, sucking another bruise into your skin. “Come for me, baby.”

The pleasure crashes into you all at once, ripping through your body like a storm, your back arching, your thighs trembling. Your grip on him tightening, holding onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Jungkook groans at the sight, his fingers still pumping into you, dragging out your release. His thumb giving one last, lazy stroke over your achingly sensitive clit.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your grip on his shoulders tight, your nails digging in as the aftershocks ripple through you.

He pulls his fingers out bringing them to his mouth.

Your eyes widen slightly, still hazy from your high, as he licks his fingers clean.

His gaze never leaves yours.

“Fuck,” he exhales, his voice deep, wrecked, utterly sinful as he sucks the last of your release from his fingers. “Always fucking sweet.”

Jungkook’s mouth is on yours the second he finishes his filthy display.

His hand slides up your body, fingers slipping beneath the lace still covering your chest.

A low groan rumbles from his chest as he cups your breast, squeezing, his thumb rolling over the hardened peak, teasing. His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady beneath him.

But you’re impatient.

The heat still buzzing through your body is too much, your need for him too overwhelming.

So you push at his chest, flipping him over in one swift motion until you’re on top.

Jungkook lets out a low, dark chuckle, his hands immediately gripping your hips, his eyes burning with lust as he watches you take control.

"Impatient, are we?" he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk.

You don’t answer. Instead, you kiss him again, messy, desperate, your hands roaming over his broad chest. His hardness presses against you through his pants and you can’t ignore it any longer.

Your fingers trail down, cupping him through the fabric. A low, gravelly groan rumbles from his throat, his hips pushing up into your hand, seeking more.

“Fuck,” he hisses, head tilting back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second.

You don’t waste time.

Your fingers move to his zipper, pulling it down with ease, and Jungkook lifts his hips, helping you tug his pants and boxers down.

And there he is. Hard, flushed, leaking for you.

You kiss your way down his chest, your lips skimming over his abs, leaving a heated trail.

You consider teasing him—making him suffer the way he did to you. But you’re too impatient for that.

So you lick over his tip.

Jungkook’s sharp inhale is immediate.

“Fuck,” he breathes, fingers tangling into your hair, gripping tight—just enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.

You press your tongue flat against him, as you take him deeper.

His thumb strokes along your cheek.

“Just like that, baby,” he mutters, voice thick with praise.

A sharp curse spills from his lips, his hand tightening in your hair, his hips pushing forward just enough to make you gag around him.

His thumb wiping at the corner of your mouth.

“Messy,” he murmurs, his thumb pressing against your lower lip, feeling how wet and swollen it’s become. “God, you look so fucking pretty like this.”

Your thighs clenching at his words.

Jungkook’s grip in your hair tightens, pushing you down further.

Your throat tightens, a strangled gag ripping from you as your fingers instinctively tap at his thigh.

His hold loosens, his cock slipping slightly from your mouth as you gasp for air, your eyes watering as you look up at him.

Jungkook exhales heavily, his hand sliding from your hair to cradle your jaw instead, thumb stroking softly against your damp lips.

“Shit—sorry, baby,” he murmurs, but the smirk tugging at his lips tells you he’s not really sorry.

Your breath is still uneven, but you don’t hesitate lowering yourself again, wrapping your lips back around him, taking him as deep as you can.

Jungkook groans, his fingers slipping back into your hair.

You can tell he’s close.

The way his thighs tense, the way his groans become rougher, deeper, the way his fingers start to tug at your hair just a little more—

And then, he pulls you off him.

Yanks your head back, his cock slipping from your mouth, glistening, swollen.

His eyes burn into yours, wild, dark, filled with something dangerous.

“On all fours.”

Your stomach flutters violently, your legs weak, but you do as he says.

You shift, turning around, your hands pressing into the mattress.

His hands slide down your waist, fingers gripping, kneading, as he takes in the view.

“Fuck, baby,” he exhales, his voice filled with pure hunger.

You whimper softly, shifting impatiently, feeling the heat of his body behind you, but not enough of him.

“Needy?” His tone is mocking, but when his hand slides between your thighs, fingers teasing along your slick folds, his breath catches slightly. “God, you’re dripping for me.”

You push back against his touch, desperate for more, but he grips your hip tightly, stopping you.

“Be good,” he warns, voice low, authoritative.

You can hear it—the slick sounds of him jerking himself, as he grinds the tip against your soaked folds, teasing you mercilessly.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough, strained. “Look at you… so fucking ready for me.”

You whimper, trying to push back onto him, but his grip tightens.

Reaching over, he grabs his pants, fishing out a foil packet. You glance over your shoulder, just in time to see him rip it open with his teeth, rolling the condom onto his cock, his eyes locked onto yours the entire time.

The sight alone has your stomach tightening, your thighs clenching.

He drags himself up and down slowly, deliberately, coating himself in your slick.

You whine, pushing back onto him again, but he just chuckles.

“Impatient little thing,” he murmurs, his lips suddenly right against your ear. His teeth graze the shell, biting down lightly before he soothes the sting with his tongue.

“You wanted this, baby,” he breathes, voice deep, velvety, dripping with control. “Now, you’re gonna take it.”

He pushes in.

A gasp rips from your throat, your fingers clenching the sheets as he stretches you open, filling you inch by inch.

Jungkook groans behind you, his grip on your hip tightening, his cock throbbing as he bottoms out, completely buried inside you.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his head falling back for a second, his body trembling slightly as you both adjust to the feeling.

His hips pull back, just enough to make you feel the drag, before he slams back in, a sharp thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs.

A shattered moan escapes you, your body rocking forward, but Jungkook doesn’t let you go.

Instead he grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you upright, your back flush against his solid, burning chest.

His mouth is on you immediately, kissing, sucking, biting at your throat, his free hand spreading over your stomach, pulling you tighter against him.

“Tell me how much you missed me, baby,” he murmurs against your already bruised skin, his hips still snapping into you, deep, devastating.

You bite your lip, smirking slightly despite the overwhelming pleasure, deciding to test him, just a little.

“No,” you breathe, teasing, taunting.

Jungkook freezes for half a second—before he groans, low and dangerous.

His hand moves up, fingers wrapping around your throat, firm. Enough to make you feel it, just enough to remind you who’s in control.

A dark chuckle spills from his lips as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear.

“Didn’t have my cock shoved in your pussy for months, and this is how bratty you’ve become?” he mocks, his fingers squeezing slightly, his other hand gripping your waist, holding you still as he thrusts into you harder, deeper, punishing.

His grip on your throat lingering for a moment before he releases you, only to push you down, pressing your head into the pillow.

His hips snap forward, knocking the air from your lungs. Your moan is muffled against the pillow, but it doesn’t matter—he hears it anyway.

You’re a mess beneath him, your hands gripping at the sheets, your body rocking forward with each powerful thrust.

“Feel that?” he pants, taunting, his hand sliding from your back down to your ass, squeezing. “That’s what you’ve been missing, baby.”

Jungkook groans at the way you clench around him, his grip on you tightening, his pace turning brutal, relentless.

“That’s right,” he mutters, teeth gritted, voice wrecked. “Fucking take it.”

Jungkook feels the way your body tenses, the way your walls flutter around him, and he knows you’re close.

So he moves his free hand, slipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit.

A sharp, wrecked gasp rips from your throat as he circles it, firm with his pounding thrusts.

“Come for me, baby,” he groans, his voice low, commanding.

Your legs shake violently, your thighs tightening.

Pleasure crashes through you, blinding, overwhelming, your moans breaking apart as your body convulses beneath him. Your walls pulse around him, dragging him deeper into your orgasm, milking every last wave of bliss.

But Jungkook doesn’t stop.

His hips keep slamming into you, riding out your high, his movements still relentless, consuming.

Your body jerks, overstimulated, the pleasure unbearable now.

“Too much—” you choke out, your voice broken, shaking.

Jungkook leans over you, panting, pressing his lips to your shoulder, his voice rough, strained.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs against your sweaty skin, his breath hot, desperate. “Give me one more.”

You whimper, shaking your head weakly, but he feels the way your body reacts, the way you’re already spiraling again, trapped in his rhythm, in his control.

Your second orgasm slams into you suddenly, shattering through your already wrecked body. You cry out, your walls clenching down on him, and that’s all it takes—

Jungkook groans, his hips slamming into you one last time, burying himself deep as his release finally overtakes him.

A low, wrecked moan leaves his lips as his body shudders against yours, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you tight as he spills into the condom.

For a moment, neither of you move, your bodies tangled, trembling, completely spent.

Jungkook exhales heavily, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your shoulder, his hands soothing over your body, grounding you.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse, satisfied, full of something deeper. “You’re… unreal."

You let out a weak, breathless laugh, turning your head slightly to meet his half-lidded, blissed-out gaze.

You both collapse onto the bed, Jungkook still buried deep inside you, your bodies tangled, sticky with sweat, breathing heavy, uneven.

Neither of you speak for a while, just taking your time, letting the warmth of each other sink in. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close, his chest rising and falling against your back.

After a few moments, his lips find your skin.

Soft, warm kisses pressed to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. His hands glide over your waist, soothing.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice softer now, filled with something tender.

You nod, turning your face slightly toward him, feeling a little shy now that the intensity has faded.

Jungkook’s lips brush against your temple as he murmurs, “Was I too rough?” His voice is softer.

You shake your head, feeling a little shy now, but your voice is steady when you say, “No… I loved it.”

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest.

Slowly, he pulls out, making you shudder slightly at the loss of him. He presses one last kiss to your shoulder before getting up, disposing of the condom.

He returns with a warm towel cleaning you up carefully, gently, his touch soft, eyes flickering up to yours every now and then, making sure you’re okay.

Once he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and slides back into bed, immediately pulling you into his arms. His body is warm, solid, safe, fingers tracing light patterns over your bare back.

For a while, you both just lay there, wrapped up in each other.

After a moment, you murmur into his chest, “When are you leaving?”

Jungkook sighs softly, his grip on you tightening slightly, like he doesn’t want to answer.

“Tomorrow morning,” he finally says, voice quieter.

Your stomach sinks a little, but before you can dwell on it, he tilts your chin up, making you meet his gaze.

A small smirk tugs at his lips, fingers sliding down your spine, slow and teasing.

“But,” he whispers, his voice low, filled with promise, “I still have time to make the most of tonight.”

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2K notes · View notes

tranquilreign · 2 months ago

Text

seven | oneshot | 18+

🗒 details

pairing; jungkook/reader genre: 18+ f!boyjk! college au! rivals to lovers(?) warnings: swearing, sexual-fucking-tension, teasing, jimin likes to join in on the teasing (slightly), porn with little plot (?), sexual themes, nudity, oral (m&f receiving), a lot of teasing, fingering, praise kink, creampie, protected sex (reader is on contraception), jealous kookie, needy kookie, deep throating, orgasm denial, slightly possessive kookie, nipple play, dirty talk, voyeurism, public sexish(?), hickies, overstimulation, mirror sex, just a lot of sex word count: 14.5k permanent taglist: @someoneelse0109

🖋 synopsis

seven (n.) seh·vehn a group or unit of seven people or things

seven days a week, seven locations, plenty of positions. when you lose a bet to infamous playboy jeon jungkook, you can't help but feel as if you lost on purpose.

🖇links

jungkook masterlist main masterlist request | request rules prompt list

Saturday.

Music blasted from the house speakers, so loud that the liquids in the discarded cups and bottles rippled in time with the bass. It was the end of the college year, meaning you had to celebrate by drinking away the weekend.

Groups of friends hussled together, the confined space almost claustrophobic. Several people had abandoned the party early, pulling someone up the stairs by the hand, obviously to have some privacy.

Jungkook sat at one of the tables, a smug look plastered over his face as he dealt another round of cards. His friends sat around him, nudging each other and muttering amongst themselves.

You sat across from Jungkook, lightly tapping your nails against the wood. Your other arm was casually slung over the back of Namjoon's chair. Letting out a sigh of impatience, you let your head roll back, exposing your neck to the infamous fuckboy.

He watched you closely, subconsciously licking his lips as he stared at the sweat that glistened against your skin.

"Sometime today, Kook," you teased.

You looked back at him, staring at him with such an intensity that he swallowed out of mild nervousness. You didn't like Jungkook, but you didn't hate him either. He was a fuckboy, and a charming one at that.

He knew exactly what to say and how to act to get any girl to want him. It infuriated you, him having a new girl every night. The thought of him being buried between another girl's legs made you jealous beyond belief.

Not that you would ever admit that to him. You knew he would flirt with other girls to get your attention, always stealing glances to ensure you were watching. But two could play at that game. From then on, whenever one of his friends would speak to you, you made sure to be extra friendly, your touch lingering a little too long on their arms or chest when they made you laugh.

They had taken notice of your antics, finding it amusing that you could bite back. Jungkook's best friend, Jimin, had decided to play along. He would lean against the wall that your back was pressed against, and move down to speak in your ear. Your eyes would stay on Jungkook, watching his jaw clench and usually soft and playful eyes turn into a glare.

"Have some patience, Y/n," Jungkook replied, dealing out the final card and setting the deck face down onto the table.

You stood out of your chair, leaning over to him. He watched you hungrily, eyeing your cleavage. You subtly pushed your breasts closer together, smirking, when Jungkook reacted. You took his bucket hat from him, giggling flirtatiously when you placed it on your head and sat back down.

Jungkook didn't utter a word as he watched your breasts bounce lightly. He tried not to palm himself in his jeans, feeling the discomfort increase.

"Just get on with it. I'm getting bored," you taunted, side eyeing Jimin, who sat on your left.

He tried his best to stifle his laughs, watching the scene unfold. He loved nothing more than watching Jungkook lose himself with you. He knew Jungkook loved making you jealous, but nothing was more fun than contributing to making him jealous.

"Alright, alright," Jungkook breathed.

The game started with Jungkook as the dealer. You looked at your cards: two of diamonds and an ace of spades. Jungkook slowly worked around the circle, and people either stayed or went bust when they asked for another card.

"Right, your turn, Y/n."

"Hit," you spoke.

Jungkook flipped a card down onto the table. Six of diamonds. You nodded, indicating another hit. Jungkook flipped another card. Three of clubs. You sat and thought, looking at everyone else's hands. Not many high cards had been flipped, increasing your chances of a loss.

"Sometime today, Y/n," Jungkook mocked.

You smiled sarcastically at him, asking him for one more hit. You bit your lip, watching as Jungkook flipped the final card for you. Queen of hearts.

"Fuck," you whined, throwing your cards onto the table. "I'm bust."

Jungkook grinned, tutting at you tauntingly. Your tongue darted across your upper lip, suppressing the urge to insult him.

"I just think you cheat. Every game we've played, I've either been bust or you've had a higher number than me by one," you huffed, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook laughed.

"I'm afraid Blackjack is a game of chance, love. Maybe you're just unlucky," he teased, piling all the cards back into the deck.

"I'm not this unlucky."

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. He shuffled the cards casually, locking eyes with you.

"I'll tell you what. I'll let you shuffle and deal," he suggested, sliding the cards over to you. "And we'll make a bet."

The idea intrigued you. Leaning forward, you rested your elbows on the table, your chin on your interlocked hands. You thought for a moment, then shrugged and grabbed the cards.

"Fine. If I win," you began, shuffling the cards skillfully in your hands, "you can't sleep with anyone for a month."

Jungkook grinned. He liked where you had gone with this bet. He let his thoughts wander, wondering what the best reward would be for him if he won. His eyes landed on Jimin, who casually put his arm over your chair and leaned close to whisper in your ear. His gaze hardened at his friend's closeness, which you had noticed.

"If I win, I get to have you all to myself next week."

His friends let out cheers in unison, while your stomach flipped. You hadn't expected him to be so bold, especially in front of his friends. You shifted in your seat, feeling your underwear dampen at his words.

"Fine."

You dealt the cards between the two of you. You glanced at your cards, checking they didn't add up to twenty-one while Jungkook looked at his.

"Hit," he spoke, voice breathy.

You flipped over the first card, revealing a 5 of clubs. He asked for another hit, and you obeyed, flipping over the next card. He grinned.

"Stay."

He placed his cards down onto the table, revealing twenty-one. You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh in disbelief. How was this man so damn lucky?

You had a nine of spades and a three of hearts, which was not a good start. The first card you flipped had you cursing under your breath. Throwing your hand onto the table, you let your head fall against the back of the chair.

"Bust."

Jungkook and his friends cheered and laughed, looking at the king of spaces on the table with your two other cards.

"Looks like you're gonna be all mine next week, love," Jungkook teased, eyeing you lustfully.

Your nerves got the better of you, and you avoided eye contact with the man who smirked at you. Your heart raced at his words, your chest rising and falling quickly.

Jungkook stood up and squeezed past his friends, so he stood next to you. He hooked his forefinger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Jungkook suppressed a groan when you looked at him. He fought with every ounce of his being not to take you right there on the table.

"I'll see you Monday, love. I'm really looking forward to it."

Sunday.

You had awoken with a pounding headache, groaning as you sat up. The rays from the morning sun shone through the partially closed blinds, making you screw your eyes shut to try and block the light.

"Morning," a familiar voice hummed next to you.

Hoseok sat beside you, holding some ibuprofen and a glass of water. You had ended up at Hoseok's house, which he shared with Namjoon and Yoongi.

"Thanks," you rasped, taking the medicine from Hoseok's palm.

You threw your head back, letting the pill fall into your mouth. Then, you took a gulp of water, letting it wash down with ease.

"You remember what happened last night?" Hoseok asked.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do," you sighed.

You let your head fall into your hands, recalling the previous night. You had lost the bet with Jungkook, meaning that tomorrow, you were all his. You sat, crossing your fingers, silently praying he would forget.

Ping.

"Of course," you groaned.

You knew who it was before you even checked your phone. Jungkook's message popped up on your screen, making you want to hide away under the covers of Hoseok's bed.

Make sure you're at mine by 11:00 pm. Our bet won't start til tomorrow, but I want you here before then. You'll be all mine from the second it hits midnight.

"Hoseok," you whined. "Please get me out of this."

"No can do. You made that bet when you were tipsy. And you had been teasing that boy all night. You did this to yourself," Hoseok replied.

He stood up and left, leaving you to your own thoughts. You fell back onto he bed, groaning in frustration. Why did you have to tease him so much? The idea of this bet wouldn't have even crossed your mind if you weren't shamelessly flirting with him and his best friend.

Huffing, you pulled yourself out of bed, tugging on your joggers, which Hoseok probably took off for you last night, and slumped down the stairs.

"Morning, Y/n," Namjoon greeted with a grin.

"Don't, I know what you're gonna say," you replied, holding your hand up to him. "I fucked up."

"I wouldn't say that," Yoongi mumbled from the chair behind you. "More so that Jungkook's gonna fuck you up-"

"Oh my god, stop!" you cried out, burying your face in your hands.

The two boys laughed as Hoseok entered, carrying a plate of bacon, eggs and toast. He put the plate on the table as you moved to sit down.

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Namjoon asked. "I mean, ever since the start of college, you've both been trying to get each other worked up or jealous."

"That's different, though! It's harmless flirting," you defended, picking up your fork and playing with the scrambled eggs.

"Yeah, because Jungkook looking like he's gonna rail you against the wall all the time is harmless flirting," Yoongi replied.

He moved up from the chair to stand beside you, leaning against the island table on his forearms.

"Just admit it, you both like each other."

"We don't like each other," you snapped, glaring at the man. "He's a fuckboy, liking someone isn't in his brain chemistry."

"I'm just saying, people who don't like each other don't get jealous when they aren't getting attention," Yoongi finished, shrugging.

You smacked him on the shoulder gently, scolding him for his words. He only grinned, pushing himself off the table and moving into the living room.

"You might be overthinking this as well," Namjoon added.

You snorted.

"Joon, it's Jungkook. Of course he's going to try and fuck me," you replied.

"Are you against that?"

You were silent, unknowing of what to say. You had no idea why you were suddenly against this bet. The thought of it last night excited you, so why did it leave you feeling self-conscious?

"See. You're just overthinking," Namjoon stated.

With that, he walked away, leaving you alone. You thought over the different scenarios that could play out. Not knowing how this would go down made you even more nervous, but all you could do now was wait.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Evening had come around much sooner than you would have liked. You packed a travel bag, filled with all the essentials, and realised that if Jungkook wanted this, you would give it to him and make this an unforgettable week for both of you.

Standing before his apartment door, you inhaled deeply, feeling your nerves slowly return. Gently, you knocked, looking at your phone to appear nonchalant. The door swung open to reveal Jungkook—except he stood in nothing but a towel.

"Hey-" you paused when you looked up from your phone.

All casualness had disappeared as your eyes wandered shamelessly over his body. Water dripped from his hair into his muscular chest, and the muscles in his arms tensed slightly as he adjusted the towel hanging loosely around his waist. He couldn't help but grin as your eyes roamed his body.

"Bang on eleven," he teased. "Eager are we?"

You scoffed.

"You wish."

You gently pushed past him, careful not to accidentally touch him as you did so. He watched you closely, noticing how your breathing had picked up when you entered.

You couldn't help but gasp in awe at his home. It was beautiful, stylised in a modern aesthetic, and surprisingly tidy. The black furniture contrasted elegantly with the living room's white walls, with hints of colour being found in the accessories.

"You actually have good taste," you sighed.

"And what do you mean by that?" he asked, suspiciously close to your ear.

You jerked away at his sudden closeness, stepping away to ensure space between you.

"I just mean, I pictured you to seem more... basic, I guess," you responded. "So where am I sleeping then?"

"With me, of course."

Your head fell back as you let out a loud, overdramatic laugh. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to finish. You looked back at him, your smile faltering when you realised he was serious.

"Oh hell, no," you protested. "Nu-uh. You said-"

"I said-" Jungkook interrupted you, "that I would fully have you to myself as of next week. But there is only one bedroom, and I'd be damned if I'm letting you sleep on the couch."

"Then you sleep on the couch!" you countered.

"No, it's my bed."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!" you cried out, growing frustrated.

"Either way, if you sleep on the couch or in the bed, I'll be by your side," Jungkook explained.

Your heart fluttered at his words. He sounded sincere, almost as if he wanted to be close to you. To feel your skin on his.

"Fine," you grumbled. "But no funny business."

"At least until midnight," he grinned cheekily.

Monday.

Surprisingly enough, Jungkook hadn't tried anything, even after it hit midnight. You stood in the kitchen, humming quietly as you cooked breakfast. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous. You never expected this to happen between you and Jungkook, let alone it happening because of a stupid bet.

Jungkook had awoken not long after you, hair still a mess, as he walked into the kitchen in his boxers. He stood behind you, looking over your shoulder as you cooked.

"Smells good," he hummed, his breath fanning your neck.

You shivered at his raspy voice. He couldn't help but grin, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Your stomach flipped, and you felt yourself becoming wet. You hated how he had such an effect on you despite doing so little. You frowned, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

As if a switch inside you flipped, you decided to suppress the nerves and fight back.

You ever so slightly pushed the waistband of your joggers down, revealing your emerald green underwear. You pulled at the sides, bringing them up over your hips to make it more visible.

Jungkook had walked back through as you were plating the food. His eyes immediately fell to your hips, inhaling sharply when he noticed your underwear. He felt his mouth go dry, his cock twitching in his boxers.

Fuck it.

He moved towards you, grabbing your hips and spinning you around to look at him. You were shocked by the sudden action, having no time to react when he pulled you in by the nape of your neck, kissing you.

He was rough, forcing open your mouth by gripping your cheeks with his hand. His tongue past your lips, entangling with your own. You moaned against his kiss, the sound almost sending him into a frenzy.

He pulled your body up against him, letting you feel his bulge poking your stomach. You ran your hand down his chest, stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. He hissed when you gently tugged the fabric and let it go, it slapping softly against his skin.

"Keep teasing me, and I'll show you what it's like," Jungkook warned.

You smirked into the kiss, continuing your ministrations while your other hand tangled in his hair, tugging occasionally. He grunted at your movements, his patience thinning. The final tug of his hair sent him over the edge. He pulled away, moving to shove the plates of food onto the floor with a crash.

"Jungkook," you scolded.

He didn't listen, spinning and bending you over the kitchen counter. You gasped, feeling his hands on your waist, massaging your sides. He bent over you, his bare chest flush against your back.

"I warned you not to tease me. But you decided to act like a brat," he spoke lowly. He straightened back up, staring at the waistband of your joggers. He hesitated.

"If you're going to fuck me, do it," you challenged.

That's all he needed to hear. Your joggers were at your ankles, your thong and ass on full display. He let out a groan, grabbing the flesh and kneading it.

"God, you're so fucking hot," he breathed, gently spanking you, watching as you ass recoiled against his touch. "I'll have you begging for mercy by the time I'm done with you."

He knelt down, now level with your clothed heat. He breathed heavily, the cool air making you shiver as it hit against your soaked underwear. He chuckled at your reaction and leaned in, licking a slow strip up your clothed entrance.

The feeling of his warm tongue and the fabric of your underwear had an involuntary moan escape your lips. You jerked forward slightly at the sensation, not expecting it to feel so good. His hands moved back to your hips, pulling you back with a tug and keeping you in place.

Another moan echoed throughout the kitchen as he repeated his action, this time, his nose gently brushing against your clit before his tongue touched you.

"Fucking hell, Koo~" you moaned in bliss.

The use of the new nickname had him palming himself in his boxers, and the strain of release became too much. Letting go of one of your hips, he pulled his boxers down slightly allowing his cock sit against his stomach comfortably.

He moved his full attention back onto you, running his hands over your hips and grabbed the band on your underwear. You wiggled your ass, silently giving him permission to continue. Jungkook pulled your underwear off in one swift motion, letting it pool at your ankles with your joggers.

He couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, your wetness glistening against the light. Jungkook moved his hands to the back of your thighs, rubbing them and accidentally letting his thumb brush over your clit. You gasp at his touch, subconsciously pushing back into him. He stopped your actions.

"This is what you get when you disobey me," he breathed.

You whined at his words, but were too prideful to beg. He hummed, smirking as you squirmed in defiance. He brought his fingers up to your entrance, running his fore and middle finger between your folds, glazing them in your essence.

"Koo~ please," you cried, entirely giving up on what little dignity you had left.

"Since you asked so nicely."

A high-pitched moan ripped from your throat as Jungkook eased his fingers into you, almost pulling back out fully, then pushing back in further.

Your head fell against the counter, your legs shaking at his teasing movements. He grinned at how easily you melted into him, his fingers now entirely inside you. He gently curled his fingers, hitting against your sweet spot.

"Oh- oh my god," you breathed, your hand moving instinctively to the edge of the countertop and grabbing the edge.

"You're being obedient for me now? Being such a good girl," Jungkook whispered, seduction lacing his voice.

You let out a hum, nodding in response. Jungkook changed his tactic, thrusting his fingers into you at a steady pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the new feeling, and your walls tightened around him.

He chuckled at your body's natural reaction, deciding he'd reward you for your obedience. He leaned forward attaching his lips to your clit and sucking gently.

The combined feeling of his mouth and fingers had you seeing stars, instantly having you reach your high. A string of moans left your lips, your body trembling as Jungkook helped you ride out your orgasm. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, making you whimper at the sensitivity between your legs.

"You look so good like this, baby," he exhaled.

Jungkook was pressed back up against you, cock resting between your ass cheeks. His breaths grew uneven as he began to grind into you.

"For fuck sake Koo, just fuck me," you pleaded, your hips bucking back into him when he'd grind into you.

"I'll need to-"

"I'm on contraception," you interrupted. "And fuck me properly, no more of these teasing shit," you paused. "Please."

Jungkook could have came right there at your words. He wasted no time taking his cock and positioning it at your entrance, soaking his tip in your arousal. You both moaned in unison, each feeling the pleasure.

He pushed in slowly, letting out a grunt as he felt you tighten around him again. Your moans mixed in with his as he stretched you, only stopping when he was fully inside. He leaned over you, the feeling of him pulling out of you slightly leaving you breathless.

"Are you ready, baby? Because once I start, I won't stop until I'm satisfied."

"God Koo~ yes, so ready for you," you cried, pushing back into him.

He straightened, grabbing your hips and, without any hesitation, thrusted back into you. You pulled your t-shirt up, stuffing it into your mouth to suppress your moans, the pleasure euphoric.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good," Jungkook grunted, his head falling back from the pleasure.

His hand moved to your hair, pulling your head up. Your t-shirt fell out of your mouth, and you let out continuous moans. He laughed breathily, the sounds you made making him go feral.

"Let me hear you, baby," he grunted, his thrusts becoming rougher. "You're being such a good girl. Taking me so well."

"Yes, fuck Koo~" you whimpered. "Your good girl."

Jungkook almost came from your words. He had never thought you would be so submissive for him. He untangled his hand from your hair and moved it past your waist and between your legs.

"Come for me," he whispered.

His fingers rhythmically rubbed your clit in circular motions as he slightly slowed his pace. The combined feeling of him stretching your walls along with him stimulating your clit sent you over the edge. A long, breathy moan left you as your body shook again.

Jungkook didn't stop, though, leaving you a whimpering mess when the sensitivity became too much for you. You moved your arms behind you to push him away, but he held them behind your back with one hand.

"Just a little longer, baby," he breathed. "Be good for me a little longer."

Despite your sensitivity, you didn't actually want him to stop. The feeling of him in you was unbelievable. Pure bliss, you had never felt so complete or fulfilled by anyone. His grip on your arms and waist kept you in place as he trusted a few more times before reaching his high.

"Fuck Koo~" you whined, feeling him fill you with his come.

Jungkook grunted as he slowed his pace, riding out his orgasm. He exhaled, finally stopping his thrusts. Slowly, he pulled out, groaning as he watched his semen drip out of your soaked cunt.

"God, you're perfect," he breathed. "If I could, I'd bend you back over that counter."

You laughed, slowly, standing up straight, your mixed orgasms running down your leg. You wobbled slightly. Jungkook noticed, moving to grab your waist and keep you steady.

"I'll help you to the bathroom, baby. Get yourself cleaned up, and I'll clean up in here," he spoke softly, looking at the broken plates and food scattered over the floor.

Putting his cock back into his boxers, he then scooped you into his arms without hesitation, carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the toilet, gently tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you."

"Once you're finished in the shower, I'll also get cleaned up. I just don't want you stepping on any ceramic shards."

He left momentarily, leaving you by yourself.. With your desire now subsiding, you finally realised that you had sex with Jeon Jungkook. You buried your face in your hands, wanting to scream with joy.

You turned on the shower, thinking that six more days of this would be pure bliss.

Tuesday.

Today was different. You were awoken by your phone ringing, its sharp notes making Jungkook grunt in annoyance.

"Sorry," you mumbled, groggy.

You leaned over to the bedside table, sluggishly grabbing hold of it. You answered without looking at the caller, putting it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey Y/n."

Jimin.

"Oh hey," you replied, perking it up a little.

Jungkook lifted his head, listening closely to the person on the other end. When he realised it was Jimin, he scoffed, threw the bed sheets off himself, and grabbed a pair of grey joggers. Without saying a word, he walked out of the bedroom.

You watched him leave, confused by his behaviour. Shrugging it off, you focused your attention back on Jimin.

"I just wanted to check up on you and see how it's going with Kook."

"It's uh-it's great," you replied sheepishly.

Jimin chuckled at your embarrassed tone. Jungkook returned, his glare hardening when he saw you still on the phone. He walked over, snatching the device from your hand.

"Hey!" you called.

"Sorry Jimin, she's gonna have to call you back," he snapped before handing up.

"Kook, what the fuck was that for!" you asked angrily.

He huffed, tossing your phone onto the bed, grabbing you by your ankle, and pulling you to the edge. You squeaked at the sudden pull, falling quiet when you locked eyes with him. He was jealous.

"You're mine, got it?"

You couldn't help but smile at him. Silently, you moved onto your knees, ass resting on your heels and slowly ran your hand up his bare chest. He melted slightly into your touch, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

"If I weren't yours, would I be here?" you asked innocently.

He hummed at your question, not trusting himself to speak. You moved up from your heels, wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him.

Jungkook smirked into the kiss, trying to take control of the situation when you pulled away. You shook your head, moving to stand up and spinning him around so he faced away from the bed. You pushed him gently, making him sit down.

You sank back down to your knees, spreading his legs further apart with your hands. He watched you eagerly, silently consenting to your movements.

Jungkook was hard, an outline of his bulge straining against his trousers. You palmed him through the fabric, making him throw his head back, letting out a quiet moan.

Slowly and teasingly, you pulled his trousers and boxers down, revealing his length. Wrapping your hand around his dick, you ran your finger over his tip. He shivered at the pleasure, locking eyes with you as you did so.

You smiled teasingly, pulling away and seductively licking the tip of your thumb. Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off you, finding you alluring to watch. You grabbed his cock again, running your now wet thumb over his head.

The new feeling had him leaning back on his hands, groaning. You flirtatiously tilted your head.

"You like that, Koo?~" you teased, applying a little more pressure as you swiped over his tip again.

"Fuck yes, baby," he spoke breathlessly.

You hummed, noticing pre-cum leaking from his cock. Taking the opportunity, you moved forward and wrapped your lips around him.

Jungkook instinctively grabbed the sheets on his bed, the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock sending him into a state of euphoria.

All the jealousy he felt for Jimin was out the window. You were here with him, not Jimin, significantly boosting his ego. He fought the urge to thrust up into your throat, not knowing if it was something you would enjoy.

Like he had done to you yesterday, you slowly took in more of him with every bob of your head. You coated his cock in your saliva, making everytime you went back down on him easier.

He watched as you slowly worked your way down him, eyes widening in surprise, impressed by how well you were taking him. Relaxing your throat, and with one final push, you had taken him down to his base.

"Ah, fuck," he moaned, running his hand through your hair.

When you could no longer hold your breath, you pulled back, a gagging sound following. You gasped, your hand moving up and down his length to keep pleasuring him.

"Taking my cock so well," he cooed, moving his hand from your hair to your chin, wiping away saliva that ran down.

"I'm not done yet, baby," you whispered.

You moved back, and instead of deep throating him again, you bobbed your head at a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks as you did so. He groaned, slowly losing himself to the pleasure. He bucked his hips upwards, taking you a little by surprise.

"Shit, sorry baby," he stammered. "You just feel so fucking good."

You hummed, sending vibrations through him. He shook, feeling his orgasm getting close. You listened to him stutter, trying to speak. Knowing he was close, you suddenly pulled back, making him whine at the loss of pleasure.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked, pouting at you.

"You don't want to fuck me?" you asked, feigning innocence.

Those words alone gave him all the strength he needed. Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and stood, turning you and pushed you down onto the bed. He discarded his trousers and boxers entirely, climbing on top of you.

You lay underneath him, which gave him plenty of time to examine you thoroughly. He slowly ran his hand up your naked thigh, stopping just before he reached your underwear. You let out a slight whine when he stopped.

He continued shortly after, but instead of touching you where you wanted him most, he moved up, his hand snaking under your white t-shirt and in between your breasts.

"You think teasing me funny, baby?" you taunted.

"You weren't complaining when I was doing it," you pouted.

Ping.

The sound made you both look at your phone. Jimin's name could be read on the screen. Jungkook's jealousy rose again at his friend's name, and you watched his expression change. You bit your lip, unsure of what would come.

Jungkook lost all chivalry, tearing your t-shirt off from the neck. You yelped as your breasts bounced from the movement, nipples hardening from the cool air. Your breathing increased as he stared, eyes hardened in jealousy.

You watched as he lowered himself to your right breast, his hand snaking up to the other, grasping it firmly. He let his finger run lightly over your nipple while his lips attached to the other one.

You arched your back as the sensation of pleasure travelled through your body at his actions. He flicked and sucked at your nipple, occasionally biting gently, while his fingers worked on the other one.

"Holy shit. Kook."

"You have no idea how crazy you drove me when Jimin would flirt with you. You're mine, got that? And if I have to fuck that into you for you to understand, I will," he growled against your skin.

He switched to your other breast, blowing cold air against your nipple, then encasing his lips around it.

"I'm only yours," you replied, tangling your fingers through his hair.

Good.

He pulled back, staring at your reddened breasts. He grinned, moving to your underwear and pulling them off. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he saw how wet you were.

Jungkook moved back up so he hovered over you, his cock pressed against your entrance. He looked at you, to which you nodded, and he pushed in.

"Fuck," you whispered, wrapping your legs around him and pushing him all the way.

He lowered himself, moaning softly into your ear at the familiar feeling of you around him. Jungkook grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and effortlessly lifted your ass, placing the pillow underneath you.

Resting you back down onto the pillow, the new angle had you whimpering at how deep he was. He buried his face into your neck, breathing softly. You caressed his hair, letting your fingers glide down to trace small patterns into his muscular back.

He slowly pulled out and eased back into you, the feeling of him stretching you out, leaving you in a state of pure bliss. He grunted, feeling himself losing his composure at how good you felt.

"Baby, you feel so good," he mumbled, his breathing restless.

"Kook. Please," you begged, your back arching uncontrollably.

He aggressively kissed your neck, biting ever so slightly. He straightened and grabbed you by the hips. You both paused, looking at each other for a moment, then he proceeded to move you in rhythm with his thrusts.

You wailed, grabbing hold of Jungkook's forearms as some type of support for the pleasure you were feeling. He panted, watching as his cock slipped in and out of you with ease.

You both groaned in unison. Jungkook's thrusts slowed, but they became rougher as he did so. You were seeing stars, mouth agape from the pleasure as he hit you deeper than he had before.

He traced one of his hands up your body, to your breasts, massaging them. His fingers ran over your sensitive nipple, and then pinched, the pain and pleasure a perfect combination.

The steady pace Jungkook kept had you coming undone quickly, turning your face into the duvet cover to muffle your noises. Jungkook stared in awe at how beautiful you looked underneath him. Your skin had begun to glisten with sweat, your hair messily covering your eyes, and your soft hands gripped his forearms for support.

Jungkook suddenly lost his pace as he came, moving to lean on top of you as he orgasmed. His head rested against your breast, both of you panting loudly in the silence of the room.

"Fuck, Y/n," Jungkook whispered between breaths.

"What's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had done something.

"Nothing, baby, you are just amazing. Your head is just... wow."

You chuckled slightly, both lying in a tangled mess, silently enjoying one another's company.

Wednesday.

Jungkook had decided that he had to join you in the shower. No matter how much you protested or insisted you shower separately, he was adamant that you be together.

At this point, you had both grown comfortable around being naked in front of one another, often sleeping together nude, with him spooning you. So you were both unbothered if one of you suddenly wandered around the house naked.

That was precisely what you were doing, trying to locate a towel. You covered your chest with your hands and wandered around the apartment.

"Kook!" you yelled, frustrated.

Jungkook was by your side in seconds, completely ignoring the fact that you were naked. He let his hands rest on your upper arms, looking at you with concern.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked softly.

"Baby?" you asked. "You only call me baby when we're fucking."

Jungkook stammered over his words, heat rising in his cheeks in embarrassment. He awkwardly removed his hands from you, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Force of habit?" he replied, though it sounded more like a question.

"It's fine, Kook. I kind of like it, actually," you teased, gently tapping him on the nose with your finger. "The real issue is, I can't find a fucking towel."

Jungkook's eyes finally wandered over your body, subconsciously licking his lips and suppressing a smirk. You huffed, glaring at him and his lack of help.

"I'll go get us some. Just get in the shower, and I'll join you shortly."

"Okay."

You left the living room and wandered into the bathroom. You had turned on the shower earlier to let it heat up when you had noticed the missing towels. You moved your hand under the running water, humming in satisfaction at the perfect temperature.

You stepped in, sighing at the water hitting your skin. Turning to face the showerhead, you ensured the water soaked your body entirely. The feeling of the water hitting against your breasts made you shiver.

You let your hands roam your body, breath hitching when your fingers lightly brushed your sensitive bud. You continued the ministrations, a quiet moan emitting from you as you did.

Leaning forward, your head rested against the shower glass, eyes closed, drowning in the pleasure. Your other hand traced down your body and between your legs. Gathering some of your wetness on your fingers, you moved up to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves gently.

Being so enveloped in your pleasure, you hadn't realised Jungkook had walked in. He stood silently, listening to your melodic moans. The shower glass had steamed up, but he could clearly see your silhouette. His mouth fell open when he watched you turn around to slide down the wall.

Not sparing a second thought, he quietly removed his clothes, discarding them in the laundry basket. He grabbed hold of his cock, pumping himself a few times as he watched you.

"Fuck, Kook-" you muttered absentmindedly, catching him off guard.

You were unaware he was outside the shower door, but your mind wandered to him as you played with yourself, wishing he were making you feel this good.

Your fingers now dipped inside you, while your thumb continued you rub your clit in circular motions. Back now arched, you let out a breathy moan, it echoing throughout the bathroom.

A string of quiet moans left you as your orgasm approached. Jungkook continued to jerk himself off, his tip now leaking with pre-cum. Your body jolted as your orgasm washed over you, the feeling causing your legs to shake in pleasure.

The sound of the shower door opening startled you, and you instinctively pulled your shaky legs up to your chest to cover yourself. Jungkook stepped into the shower, looking at you hungrily.

"Kook-" you began.

Jungkook cut you off, kneeling down to your level and pulling you into a heated kiss. You melted into him, expecting him to slip his tongue into your mouth. But he didn't. He continued to kiss you, passion burning inside both of you.

"Stand up," he breathed when he pulled away.

Jungkook helped you up, so you stood in front of him. The water was hitting against his back, little sprays of water dampening his hair. His hand snaked under your left leg, pulling it up. Naturally, you wrapped it around his waist, fully feeling his length against your heat.

Your head fell against his shoulder at the feeling, your desire for him increasing. He removed his hand from your leg, taking hold of his cock and angling it in front of your entrance.

"Please, want you so bad," you pleaded, kissing softly against his skin.

You bit down on him as he pushed into you, the feeling of him inside you, being too good. His head fell back in bliss, having you around him seemed to get better everytime he fucked you.

Now in you entirely, he slowly thrusted, the position slightly restricting his movements. But that didn't matter to you. Jungkook simply being inside you was all you needed.

On the other hand, Jungkook was growing frustrated with the lack of movement. He cursed under his breath, moving your arms around his neck. You were confused, but still complied.

He wasted no time hooking his hands under your thighs and lifting you up with ease. You slid up and down on his cock as he moved, trying to suppress your mewls. He wrapped your other leg around his waist and moved so your back was pressed against the wall.

"Such a good girl, baby. Thinking about me while you touch yourself. That's exactly how it should be. Only me that you think about," Jungkook grunted, beginning to thrust into you.

Your cheeks flushed at his words. He had heard you call out his name when you touched yourself. He chuckled at your expression.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, it just means I got my message across yesterday," he panted.

You tightened your grip around his neck, pulling your body flush with his. Jungkook took that opportunity to step away from the wall and bend his legs slightly, reducing the weight on your arms and legs.

Grabbing your waist, he slid you up and down on his cock, the lewd sound of smacking reverberating throughout the room. You let out cries of pleasure at how deep he was hitting inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust.

"Such a-" he grunted as he pulled you back onto him, "good fucking girl."

"Fuck, Kook. I'm close," you whimpered, your second orgasm pooling in your stomach. "Please make me come. Wanna come on your cock."

Jungkook's thrusts - somehow - become rougher, pounding into you with such strength that you milk his length within a few thrusts. Your nails dug into his back as you came, making him hiss. Jungkook's hands wrapped under your thighs again, and he gently pulled out, whining at the emptiness.

"I'm not done with you yet, baby," he grinned. "Think you can handle more?"

"God, yes, please."

Jungkook manoeuvred you, pressing you up against the glass, your breasts flattening. He gently moved your legs apart and pushed himself back into you. You whined, slightly sensitive from your previous orgasms.

"You've had your fun. Now I'm going to fuck you until I come. And I don't care how many time you come on my cock for me to do that," Jungkook spoke, voice low.

"Yes, please, use me as you please."

Jungkook thrusted into you, his speed and rhythm having you come undone almost immediately, the sensitivity from before returning. Your hands were flat against the glass, the condensation of the shower disappearing under your touch.

"Feel, so fucking good. Like your pussy was made for me," Jungkook growled, not showing any sign of slowing his thrusts.

"Only yours, Koo," you cried out, feeling another orgasm wash over you.

It wasn't until your fifth orgasm that Jungkook began to lose his pace, the constant feeling of your walls tightening around him bringing him close.

"Come with me, baby," Jungkook panted, his hand moving between your legs to gently pinch and rub your sensitive clit.

Your hips bucked at the sensitivity, and you pushed back into him suddenly. You screamed his name as you came one final time, body shaking violently at the pleasure and overstimulation. With one final thrust, Jungkook came, grabbing your hips to keep you still.

He leaned over your back, pulling out of you entirely. You whimpered, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Jungkook quickly caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist protectively as you both sank onto the floor.

"I've got you," he soothed. "I've got you."

You panted, feeling yourself throb between your legs. Your legs were closed tight, and Jungkook watched, growing slightly worried as your body continued to tremble.

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

You chuckled weakly.

"No, baby. You didn't," you exhaled. "Just really-" you twitched, "really sensitive."

Jungkook smiled at your words, rocking you back and forward slightly, which surprisingly put you at ease.

"Take as long as you need, baby. And when you're ready, we can shower properly."

"At this rate, with how long we've been here, we won't have any hot water left," you joked, making Jungkook laugh.

Thursday.

One thing you had discovered about Jungkook was that he was loaded. You were astonished to learn that he had his own home gym. There was no doubt that he worked out. You could hardly stop yourself from staring at how he filled out his t-shirts, or how his veins were visible when lifting something heavy.

You only found out about his home gym when Jungkook, in gym attire, made his way in the opposite direction of the front door.

"Is the front door not that way?" you asked, pointing behind you.

"Yes?" Jungkook replied, confused. "Why are you asking?"

"Didn't you say you were going to the gym?"

"I did, and I am. I have a home gym."

You were shocked initially. He led you down the hallway to the door at the end and opened it. You were surprised at how spacious it was, with mirrors and gym equipment neatly arranged, looking like a public gym.

"Fucking hell, are you secretly a billionaire or something?" you asked in disbelief.

"My dad's a CEO," he explained. "If you ever want to use the equipment, you can."

"I wouldn't know where to begin," you replied, sheepishly.

Jungkook held his hand out to you, which you gladly took, and pulled you further into the room. You reached the other end of the room where the weight racks stood. Next to them was a pull-up bar, which Jungkook stood under.

"Come here," he instructed.

He placed his hands around your waist and gently pulled you in front of him, back against his chest. He let out a little giggle as he stepped back a little bit, bringing you with him so you were directly underneath the bar.

"I'm gonna lift you, okay, baby? And I want you to grab hold of the bar," Jungkook explained.

He bent down slight, wrapping his arms around your thighs, face pressed against you ass. You blushed at his position and the fact that he expected you to suddenly be able to do a pull-up.

"Kookie, I don't know if I can even do a pull-up," you mumbled shyly.

Jungkook's heart melted at the nickname, and how cute you were when you were shy. He gave you a reassuring squeeze before lifting you up. You quickly grabbed the bar, allowing him to let you go.

"Jesus," you cursed, feeling gravity wanting to pull you down to the ground.

Jungkook moved in front of you and wrapped his hands around your ankles. You stared at him, struggling to maintain your grip on the bar.

"It's alright, baby, I've got you," he smiled. "I'll be right here to help. And if you need to let go, just say."

Jungkook assisted you in doing five pull-ups. Assisting as in he held most of your weight as you pulled yourself up. You giggled at how easy it was, knowing Jungkook was doing all the work. He let you go, and you dropped back down onto the floor.

"See, you're a natural," he teased.

You laughed, placing your hand on his arm. Jungkook's face flushed as you leaned against him, heart racing at your closeness.

"Do you want to help me work out now? Since I was so nice in helping you?" Jungkook suggested with a grin.

"Sure!" you beamed, excited to see his routine.

It was the worst decision you had ever made. Not because Jungkook made you do anything complicated. But because you couldn't stop staring.

Jungkook had discarded his shirt the moment his workout session started. He would constantly ask you for resistance bands or lighter weights. You would hum in response, staying exactly where you were, just... staring. Jungkook chuckled.

"Baby."

"Yeah?" you asked, thoughtlessly.

He exhaled, stood up, and walked over to you. You swallowed thickly, staring at his chest directly in front of you. Sweat glistened against his skin, slowly running down the grooves of his muscles. Your breathing picked up, your underwear beginning to dampen as inappropriate thoughts clouded your mind. Jungkook forced you to look up at him by placing his forefinger under your chin and tilting your head upwards.

"If you want me, you need only ask," he teased, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You flushed at his words, averting your gaze, though it was hard when every wall in the room was covered in mirrors. It was Jungkook, shirtless, in all his glory, everywhere you looked.

"Get down on one of the mats in front of the mirrors," Jungkook demanded, voice low.

You shuddered at his voice, but obeyed, shuffling over to one of the mats and sitting cross-legged facing the mirror. Jungkook watched you, biting his lip at how your hips swayed in your joggers. He quickly followed after you, kneeling down behind you.

Jungkook's gaze was intense as he watched you in the mirror. He lowered himself to your neck, still watching and attached his lips to your skin. He smirked as he kissed your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

"Kook," you moaned, moving your hand to tangle in his hair.

"Gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, show you how fucking beautiful you are getting wrecked by me."

Your stomach flipped at his words, his dirty talk turning you on more than you already were. His kisses continued, slowly travelling down to your shoulder. You jolted when he found your sweet spot, your grip in his hair tightening.

Jungkook took the opportunity to suck and bite at your sensitive spot, only pulling away when he was satisfied with his work. You raised your head, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Jungkook stared at you, eyes dark and waiting for your reaction.

You gently touched the now bruised skin on your shoulder, tracing the outline. Jungkook's hand snaked up your arm, interlocking his fingers with yours. Planting a quick kiss against your jaw, he gently pushed you forward, your ass now pressed up against his crotch.

You involuntarily moaned when you could feel his bulge poking against you, excitement building up in your core. Subconsciously, you arched your back, pushing further into him. The action had him groan, holding your hips steady as he slowly grinded into you.

"Patience, baby," he chuckled, kneading your hips gently.

You whined, burying your face into the mat in frustration. Jungkook leaned forward slightly, tracing his fingers along your stomach teasingly.

"Kook, please don't tease," you whispered. "Want you so bad."

Jungkook's hand travelled further down, moving underneath your cargo trousers and underwear. His middle finger slid between your folds, gathering some of your slick.

"So wet for me, and I've barely touched you," Jungkook teased.

He moved back up to your clit, grazing it lightly, making you jolt at his touch. He laughed through his nose at your sensitivity, gently stimulating your bundle of nerves.

"So good for me," he breathed, kneading the flesh of your butt in his other hand.

He gently smacked your ass, the added action having lewd nosies fall from your lips. His pace slowly increased, but was still gentle, watching you in the mirror as you cried, fingers trying to grab the mat for support.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" he encouraged "Gonna be a good girl and come on my fingers?"

"Yes, Koo, wanna come for you," you moaned, feeling your high approaching.

"Come for me."

As if on command, you reached your orgasm, jolting away from him when the sensitivity became too much. Body twitching, you fell forward, lying flat on your stomach. The knot you felt slowly dispersed as your body began to relax.

Jungkook didn't wait for you, moving to pull down your trousers and underwear, revealing your glistening heat. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. He had discarded his trousers and boxers as you were attempting to recover, his cock sliding between your wet folds.

The feeling of his tip brushing against your clit had your whining at the sensitivity. Jungkook grinned, moving forward slightly, watching your reflection in the mirror.

He ran his hand underneath your baggy top, massaging your breasts over your bra, another added sensation making you moan. You had began to move along his cock, without realising, the sudden movement making Jungkook grunt and gently bite down on your shoulder.

He moved his free hand to his cock, guiding his tip to your entrance and slowly pushed in. It was a feeling you wished you could experience every second of the day. The stretching of your walls had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in ecstasy.

"Look at yourself, baby. See how beautiful you look coming undone because of me," Jungkook whispered, nipping at your earlobe.

He gently moved your face to look at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks flushed at your reflections, watching as his cock slid in and out of you with ease. The way your chest rose and fell with his movements, how the hand massaging your breast had moved past your bra and was now teasing your nipple.

"Kook," you whined in bliss.

Your eyes fell on him, and his gaze was dark, staring at you with lust-filled eyes. Your breath hitched, the combination of his gaze and how good he was making you feel forced you to look away, suddenly shy at how exposed you felt.

"No," Jungkook breathed. "Look at yourself."

Obeying his command, you looked back, watching Jungkook thrust into you. You felt so dirty watching, but you couldn't take your eyes off the way he thrusted into you. Jungkook smirked, noticing where your gaze was.

"You like watching me fuck you, baby?" he panted. "Well, how about I give you a better angle?"

In a moment, you were in a new position. Jungkook lay on the floor, you sitting above him, still facing the mirror. Your cheeks burned at how exposed you suddenly felt.

Jungkook bent his knees slightly, instructing you to place your feet on his thighs. He wasted no time sliding back into you, fucking you with ease. The new position had him going deeper with every thrust, his hands on your waist to keep you steady while yours were flat on the floor.

"Better baby?" Jungkook asked. "Get to see me fucking you properly, like the good girl you are."

You mewled, the sight before you having that familiar feeling bubbling inside you. Your walls clenched around him, slightly, and Jungkook knew you were close. With his orgasm closing in as well, he pushed into you with more force, the feeling almost winding you.

"Come with me, baby. I know you're close," Jungkook encouraged as he reached his limit.

He continued to thrust, ignoring the oversensitivity he was feeling, to help you reach your high. You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you, and he immediately stopped, too sensitive to continue thrusting.

You sat down on him entirely, his cock sliding back into you, making you both hiss at how delicate you both felt. Leaning forward, you panted, body slightly spasming from the bliss you were in.

"You okay, baby?" he asked soothingly, rubbing his hand up and down your side comfortingly.

"Yes, Kook," you replied. "I just didn't think, watching us fucking in a mirror would be so... hot."

Jungkook chuckled, grabbing a discarded towel and holding it underneath you. You pulled off of him, the towel catching most of your mixed orgasms. Jungkook loved to watch his come drip out of you. It was as if he had claimed you entirely. You, and you alone, were his. No one else could have you.

"I think we need a shower," you said softly, holding the towel between your legs. I don't want to ruin your mats."

Jungkook stood up, scooping you in his arms and walked out of the gym. He brought you into the bathroom, sat you on the toilet seat, and then turned the shower on.

"Well, my workout didn't go exactly as planned," he confessed. "But I do love a bit of cardio."

You both laughed, gently taking hold of his hand, waiting for the shower to heat up.

Friday.

You hadn't even left the bedroom when Jungkook started following you, wanting to be between your legs. You informed him that Jimin had texted you about a party happening the following day at Namjoon's. Needless to say, Jungkook didn't like Jimin's name in your mouth.

"You always sound so beautiful," he hummed, the vibration of his voice sending thrills through you.

You were sitting on the stairs, originally on your way to brush your teeth, when Jungkook had suddenly spun you around and forced you to sit.

Your protests were cut short when he was already nestled between your legs, shoving your underwear to the side and diving in like he hadn't drunk anything for weeks.

"Kook."

"Yes, baby?" he asked, he asked between kisses.

His lips wrapped around your clit, letting his tongue brush over it. You sighed, body melting into his touch. You felt him smirk against your skin. He flattened his tongue against you, his touch making you shiver.

He continued to lick and suck, sometimes pushing his tongue past your folds, your back arching in pleasure. Jungkook pulled away suddenly, making you pout at the loss of contact.

"Koo~" you whined.

"Can't you mess up the floorboards, can we?" Jungkook teased.

You scoffed, feigning offence. His smile faltered as you stood and walked up the stairs. It returned quickly, however, when you looked over your shoulder, eyeing him seductively.

"You coming or not?"

Jungkook ran up the stairs, two steps at a time and scooped you into his arms when you were both at the top. Both of you laughed as he spun you around. He stopped briefly, still holding you in his arms as you laughed.

He couldn't help but stare at you, smiling softly. Your slightly tousled hair from being spun around, and you leaning into him, had his heart fluttering.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly when you noticed his dazed expression.

"Huh? Oh yes," Jungkook responded, quickly putting you down.

You stumbled slightly when your feet touched the floor, quickly grabbing Jungkook's forearm for stability. He instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist.

You pulled away from you, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, beckoning him with your other hand. Desire clouded Jungkook's eyes, a grin sliding onto his face. He caught up to you quickly, tugging your hand off his t-shirt and facing you away from him.

Jungkook guided you forward until you were pressed against the glass window at the end of the hallway. His hands roamed your body, grabbing and groping whatever he could.

"Since I couldn't finish what I started on the stairs. Let me do that here," he offered, voice thick with lust.

You nodded, pushing your ass against his crotch making him groan. He moved quickly, pulling your underwear down to your mid-thigh. Removing himself of his clothes he let his cock sit against your ass, grinding against you slightly.

"Kook," you moaned, growing impatient.

Jungkook only chuckled, teasing your soaked entrance with the tip of his cock. He gently pushed in, but pulled out when he was only halfway in. You huffed, jerking back so when he next pushed in, he was all the way inside you.

"F-uck, Y/n!" Jungkook gasped.

"If you're not going to do it I will," you fired back, cocky grin evident.

You moved at a steady pace, the feeling of you moving instead of him had Jungkook in a state of euphoria. He gripped your waist tightly, but didn't take over. He just threw his head back at the pleasure you were giving him.

"Am I taking you well, baby?" you asked teasingly, slightly mocking him for all the times he praised you.

"Jesus, yeah. Taking me so fucking well," Jungkook replied.

He looked down, watching as your ass bounced up and down on him, the recoil alone having him moan in pleasure. He couldn't help but watch as you moved, moans falling from your lips as you rode him.

"You-" he panted, "you keep this up, I'll come."

You abruptly stopped, making him pout. You slowly pulled him out of you and turned to look at him. Your eyes were innocent, but your smirk said otherwise.

"Then I guess we'll have to leave this for later?" you taunted.

You ran your hands slowly up his chest and around the nape of his neck, the feeling making him shiver in delight. Pulling him down, you interlocked your lips into a passionate and heated kiss. Your tongue traced along his bottom lip, and you nibbled at it gently, making him moan. You pulled away, smiling at him sweetly.

"Now I really need to brush my teeth," you finished, walking away.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jungkook had tried to have his way with you multiple times that day, but you'd stop him every time he began to get a bit too handsy. It didn't help that you had decided to wear a black lace lingerie body suit around the house. And black was a colour he most particularly enjoyed seeing on you.

Jungkook sat at the dining table in the early evening, scrolling thoughtlessly through his phone. You had walked into the room, then entered the kitchen. Jungkook had to do a double-take when he saw you.

You still wore the same bodysuit you had all day, except this time, the crotch was missing from the one piece, leaving your heat on full display for him to see. Another thing that didn't help was that you were now wearing thigh-high boots, perfectly squishing your thighs.

"You want something for dinner?" you asked nonchalantly.

Jungkook didn't answer, instead watching as you bent over, looking in one of the cabinets for a wok. His tongue darted across his lower lip, fighting the urge to take you right there.

"Kook?"

A reply didn't come. Instead, Jungkook's arms snaked around your waist and pulled you away from the kitchen counter. He wasted no time sitting you up on the dining table, mildly surprising you.

"I only want you. Only need you," Jungkook breathed, his words profoundly affecting you.

Jungkook spread your legs, and dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Mewls escaped you as he lapped at your juices, not seeming to get enough of you.

He had barely started before he was pulled away, pulling you off the table. In no time, you were bent over, legs spread wide apart, and he had pushed into you.

"Fuck- Jungkook," you cried out.

"You think it's funny, teasing me like this? Huh?" Jungkook growled, thrusting into you with such power that it left you breathless. "Looking so fucking hot, I can barely control myself."

His hands tightened around your waist, tighter than usual, and it was almost uncomfortable. You moaned with every thrust, each time he reentered you, it was deeper, harder, faster.

"Come on, baby. You were so mouthy earlier, where's all that confidence gone?" he taunted.

You frowned at his words, knowing he was challenging you. Placing both hands on the table, you pushed yourself up slightly and moved back into him when he pushed forward into you. He grunted, clearly feeling that you were working against him.

"I don't need to be mouthy to be confident," you snapped back.

His movements slowly ceased as yours increased. The feeling of you moving on him was pure bliss, something that Jungkook didn't know could feel as good as this. He gently slapped your ass a few times, the sound echoing quietly in the room.

"Come for me, baby," you instructed. "You wanted to come in me so badly earlier, go on."

As if on command, Jungkook orgasmed, grabbing your hips to slow your movements as he did. He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back. Slowly pulling out of you, Jungkook straightened and went to the kitchen to grab you a tea towel.

"Did you come too?" he asked.

"Not this time," you responded casually.

You noticed Jungkook pout, moving over and hugging you from behind.

"I guess I'll need to fix that."

"Kook, you just fucked me," you laughed.

"Yeah, but I can't have you not feeling good," he said, tracing his hand over your upper arm. "Besides, you always seem to enjoy my tongue."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled at his words.

"No."

You turned, walking away into the bathroom to go clean up.

"Oh, come on, please!" Jungkook whined as he followed behind you.

Saturday.

"Are you almost done?! I really need to pee," Jungkook pleaded, banging on the bathroom door.

"Almost!" you called back.

Jungkook had decided that trying to have sex at every given opportunity this morning was a good idea. Now you were rushing your make-up and were already an hour late for the party. Finishing up the last little bits of your eyeliner, you spun around and unlocked the door.

"Oh my god, move!" Jungkook squeaked, already unzipping his jeans before he was even at the toilet.

"Calm down, Kook," you laughed, exiting the bathroom.

You wandered into the bedroom, admiring your appearance in the full-length mirror. You weren't overdressed, wearing a simple black dress that dropped at the mid-thigh. It hugged your figure, accentuating all your curves perfectly.

Jungkook had stepped into the room while you were putting on your heels. His eyes wandered over your body in admiration. How the dress looked on you was breathtaking. Heat began to rise in his cheeks, turning red at the inappropriate thoughts that now clouded his mind.

"You going to survive in heels all night, baby?" he asked, trying to push the images of you underneath him aside.

You jumped slightly at his voice, not having heard him enter the bedroom. You spun around, looking him in the eyes innocently.

"Probably not," you mumbled in response. "But heels are the only thing that looks good with this dress."

Jungkook chuckled and moved over to you. He knelt on the floor, taking your hand and planting soft kisses against your knuckles. The action made you blush.

"You look beautiful in anything," he complimented. "I'll pack your trainers, okay? And if your heels hurt too much, you can swap."

"Okay," you replied shyly.

"I'll also pack you a change of clothes, in case you get cold, okay? I have a feeling people will be staying over anyway, and we'll probably be amongst those people."

You nodded, and Jungkook smiled, gently slapping your thigh and standing up. You sat, slightly embarrassed at his gentle touch. It was different from usual, almost as if you were a couple.

You quickly shook the thought from your head, finding the idea of Jungkook, the well-known playboy from college, and you being in a relationship. You had to stifle your laugh to stop yourself from looking like a mad person just suddenly laughing.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You arrived with Jungkook at the party a few hours after it had started, and surprisingly, the place wasn't wrecked. Upon entering, you immediately tripped over someone's foot, barely catching yourself.

"Here, follow me," Jungkook whispered in your ear.

He slid his hand into yours, something that Jungkook was one hundred per cent against when it came to having a situationship with someone. No public affection. The action took you by surprise, but you followed behind slowly.

Jungkook could feel when you were falling behind, stopping every now and then to wait for you to catch up. You greeted people as you walked past, finally entering the kitchen where you and Jungkook's friends sat.

"Guys! You finally made it!" Taehyung stood up from his chair to hug his friend.

Jungkook's hand slipped from yours, something that left you feeling empty. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab his shirt for comfort. But you refrained.

"Too much fucking I'd say," Yoongi teased, eyeing you knowingly.

You flushed at his words, stuttering, trying to explain yourself. Jungkook stood, watching you grow more embarrassed as you stammered.

"Cards, anyone?" Jungkook suggested, pulling the attention away from you.

The boys nodded eagerly, waiting for the two of you to sit. Noticing you weren't moving, Jungkook slid his hand back into yours, that warm feeling returning, and guided you to sit beside him.

Jimin watched, grinning at your flushed expression. He glanced at Jungkook, and Jungkook was already looking back at him, a glare evident. Jimin tilted his head tauntingly, eyebrows raised.

You winced as Jungkook's grip tightened subconsciously. Your sudden noise worried the boy, who looked at your hands and noticed his hand wrapping tightly around yours.

"Fuck, sorry baby," he mumbled, kissing your hand gently.

The action had everyone at the table staring, Hoseok absentmindedly shuffling the cards as he watched. Your heart raced, giving Jungkook's hand a reassuring squeeze as if to say it was okay.

Jungkook's heart ached when you winced. He didn't mean to hurt you, but his friend was testing his patience. Jungkook didn't let go of your hand, holding it and lovingly tracing his thumb across your skin.

"You dealing or what?" Jungkook asked, looking amongst his friends.

"I-uh, yeah," Hoseok stuttered, quickly dealing out the cards.

"I'll just watch," you claimed, pushing the card back to Hoseok.

He shrugged, putting the card at the bottom of the deck and moving on to Jungkook.

"You scared you'll lose again?" he teased, leaning in closer to you.

You only hummed in response, slightly nudging him and smiling. He chuckled, and you both looked at his cards eagerly.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

As the night passed, the group slowly got more drunk, and you were practically hanging off Jungkook's arm, still not letting go of each other's hands. You were giggling, clearly tipsy, and whispering in Jungkook's ear as he continued to play.

"Whoa, there," Jungkook spoke, discarding his cards and catching you as you slid off the stool.

"I wanna dance," you slurred, tugging his hand.

Before Jungkook could even answer, a voice sounded from behind him.

"I'll dance with you."

You beamed, sliding your hand out of Jungkook's and into Jimin's. You guided him onto the dance floor, leaving Jungkook, who had clenched his fists.

"So I assume you and Kook are together now?" Jimin asked, taking your hands in his, as you danced.

"Oh, no," you replied casually, taking Jimin by surprise. "I don't think he'll ever see me as something more than a fuck buddy now."

"Please tell me you're joking, Y/n. Look at Jungkook right now. He wants to tear off my fucking head cos we're dancing."

Looking over Jimin's shoulder, you could see Jungkook's dark gaze, eyes filled with hatred. You gulped, only realising how jealous he had become of you and Jimin.

"Then maybe we should stop," you suggested.

"Believe it or not, I agree. Jungkook has become rather... protective of you. The only reason he hasn't killed me yet is because I'm his best friend."

You laughed, slapping him slightly on the chest. Jimin chuckled, stepping away from you, and pulling out the wackiest, most embarrassing dance moves he could. You howled in laughter, the sound reaching Jungkook's ears.

His eyes softened, watching as you bent over, your hands on your thighs, trying to stop your laughter. He realised just how close you and Jimin were as friends there, and it put him at ease. Jungkook had grown worried that Jimin had also developed feelings for you, and the dreaded feeling of him having to choose between you and his best friend made his heart ache.

You continued to laugh, tears welling at how funny you found the situation. Suddenly, you jerked forward, shock plastered over your face. Jimin had stopped, too, now glaring at someone behind you. Quickly, you straightened and turned to see a man behind you grinning. He had smacked you ass.

"Don't fucking touch me," you snarled.

"Maybe don't dress like you're asking for it," the man laughed.

You didn't waste a moment to raise your hand and slap him across the cheek. The whole room went silent at the loud slap.

"You fucking bitch!" the man yelled, making a move to grab you.

It happened so fast. Jimin had pulled you behind him, shielding you from the man. But what shocked you the most was that Jungkook had sprinted towards the man and had thrown himself at him, handing a powerful punch straight to his jaw.

The man stumbled back, holding his jaw as he cried out in pain. Jungkook didn't wait, landing another punch to the man's gut. He toppled over, allowing Jungkook to climb on top of him and land blow after blow.

You panicked, pushing Jimin aside and making a grab for Jungkook. He shrugged you off, continuing his brutal assault on the man.

"Jungkook!" you screamed.

Finally, he stopped, looking back at you with anger-filled eyes. Though they second, they fell on you, they softened. He stood, shaking, then left without uttering a word.

"I'll call an ambulance, go get Kook," Jimin instructed.

You didn't hesitate, running as fast as you could in your heels, after Jungkook. You ran out the door, looking everywhere to see where he might be.

"Jungkook!" you called, taking a few more steps to get a better look.

You had noticed him walking ahead of you, towards a park bench. You continued to call out to him, attempting to run across the road. On the third call of his name, Jungkook sighed, turning around to look at you.

"What?" he asked bluntly, his tone taking you aback.

"Kook," you breathed. "Are you alright?"

You glanced down at his hand, noticed his knuckles were bloody and beginning to bruise. He pulled away when you went to hold his hand, making you flinch.

"Just fuck off, Y/n."

"Excuse me?" you asked, tone dropping. "Don't talk to me like that."

Jungkook ignored you, turning around to leave when you stopped him. You moved to step in front of him, and he glared at you.

"Move."

"No," you challenged. "Why are you so fucking angry!"

"It doesn't concern you," Jungkook spat.

"I think it does, considering you just beat someone up!"

"He touched your ass! What the fuck was I supposed to do!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Maybe not beat someone half to death!" you yelled back.

"Right, next time I'll just sit by and watch it happen," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You know that's not what I mean! You've been angry since Jimin and I went to the dance floor! Why?"

You already knew why. Jimin showing you just how jealous Jungkook was, confirmed wishes.

"I've told you it doesn't concern you," Jungkook snapped, tone laced with venom.

You had went off on a tangent, yelling and poking his chest as you continued to dig into him. His patience was growing thin, his emotions were getting the better of him, and he was struggling to hold back.

"Shut up," he whispered, but it was not loud enough to hear over your scolding.

He repeated it until the last of his patience disappeared.

"Shut up!"

You fell silent, shocked by his sudden outburst. Your chests were heaving in anger as you stared at one another, waiting for the other to back down.

"You don't understand," you mumbled to Jungkook.

Your soft tone caught him off guard, and his breathing eased with your words.

"Do you know how hard watching you flirt with all those girls was? Kissing them at parties, fucking hell even fingering them in front of everyone. It made my blood boil," you sighed, averting your gaze.

Jungkook remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I wanted nothing more than to be one of those girls. To kiss you, touch you, feel you. When we made the bet last weekend, I had hoped to lose, just to know what it felt like."

"I-"

"But I see now that it was clearly a mistake. Because throughout this week, I've completely fallen in love with you. It was always in the back of my mind, but being with you brought it to light," you replied, sobs escaping your lips.

Jungkook stood, watching you tremble as your emotions spilt out of you. He was in shock, not realising that you had been hiding this for as long as he had. Jungkook gently caressed your cheek, the feeling making you flinch. You looked up at him, eyes glassy.

"It was never a mistake," he breathed.

He leaned in, planting a gentle kiss upon your lips. You melted into him, your hands snaking around the back of his neck as you pulled him deeper into you. Jungkook pulled away quickly, leaving you feeling empty.

"I love you, Y/n. Since we first met, I've been so unbelievably in love with you that I only wanted your attention. I made that bet, hoping you would lose, so I could show you just how amazing you are, how beautiful and perfect you are to me."

"Kook," you sighed.

You pulled him back down, kissing him. It was soft, gentle, but soon became rough. Jungkook's hands snaked around your waist and pulled you in as close as possible. You moaned against his lips, giving him enough time to slide his tongue into your mouth.

Passion burned between you both as you began to grab at one another, wanting to undress the other. You pulled away suddenly, panting.

"Maybe we should find somewhere a little less... open," you suggested.

Jungkook looked around, trying to find somewhere to take you. Gently, he tugged you behind him, pulling you in front of a wall, hidden by bushes and trees.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded. With the confirmation, Jungkook dropped to his knees, pushing your dress over your hips. He groaned as he placed his hands over your smooth skin, tracing small circles as they glided up to your underwear.

"Please, Kook. Want you so bad," you breathed. "No teasing this time. Please."

"Anything for you, baby," Jungkook replied.

Just as Jungkook went to pull down his trousers, a sound could be heard in the distance, making you both freeze.

"Y/n! Jungkook! Where are you guys? Everyone's gone home now, so you can stay the night if you want," Hoseok's voice rang.

"For fuck sake, we can't catch a break," Jungkook chuckled, making you giggle.

"We can continue this tomorrow, Kook. We probably need the sleep anyway," you explained, tugging your dress back down. "And besides, I could use a day off from being fucked raw for the past five days."

Jungkook pouted, but followed behind, fingers interlaced with yours.

Sunday.

You both had left early the next day, thanking Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi for letting you stay.

"Whoa, hold up there," Namjoon called.

You both turned around, looking at your friends. The entire group had stayed the night and were now watching you both intently.

"Is there something you want to tell us?" Taehyung asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"We didn't have sex in the bed if that's what you guys are worried about," you spoke, waving them off casually.

"That's not what we're on about," Seokjin replied. "And it's not about Jungkook beating up that guy last night either, or his very obvious jealousy of you and Jimin's friendship."

Both you and Jungkook turned red at Seokjin's words. The group laughed.

"Please just tell us you're finally together," Jimin pleaded, resting against the countertop.

"Well, what do you think?" Jungkook grinned as he held up your interlocked hands.

The group cheered, jumping up and down excitedly and hugging one another.

"About fucking time," Yoongi laughed. "God, we were beginning to think you'd both be dead before you got together."

"Yeah watching you both get jealous was really beginning to piss me off," Namjoon spoke, grinning.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're together now, that's all that matters," Jungkook laughed.

"We are?" you asked.

The group and Jungkook looked at you in shock, but you smiled, indicating you were joking. Jungkook scowled at you playfully, lifted you over his shoulder, and walked out the door.

"Hey!" you called, laughing. "Bye guys! See you next time!"

You watched your friends waving goodbye, some punching the air in victory, while others fist-bumped and hugged.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

As soon as you both entered Jungkook's apartment, you slumped onto the couch in the living room, sighing in relief at being home. You looked to your right, staring lovingly at Jungkook. His eyes were closed, and his hair fell slightly over his eyebrows.

His chest rose and fell slowly, tiredness falling over him. You hummed, moving over and snuggling into his side. Feeling you move, he automatically wrapped his arm around you.

"Hi, baby," he whispered.

"Hi, Kook," you replied, relishing the moment.

You lightly traced his hand with your fingers. Jungkook lightly hummed a tune under his breath, enjoying your gentle touch.

"You know," you began, your fingers moving from his hand onto his chest. "We still need to make up for last night."

Jungkook's eyes pinged open, and you looked at you knowingly. You laughed, lightly pushing him when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Well, what do you have in mind?" he asked.

You didn't say anything; instead, you decided to show him. Throwing your leg over him, you straddled his waist and slowly began to grind against him. He let out a breathy moan, and his head fell back. You tugged at his t-shirt gently, indicating you wanted it off.

Jungkook complied, quickly removing his top and discarding it on the floor. He fiddled with the buttons on your shirt, letting out a huff when he couldn't unbutton them. You laughed, taking his hands and removing them from your shirt.

You quickly pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest, making Jungkook smirk. His hands moved to your breasts, and you flinched at his cold touch but immediately melted into him when he lightly flicked your nipple.

"Kook," you breathed, arching your back and moving closer to him.

"What do you want, baby?" Jungkook asked teasingly.

"You, please. Want you, all of you," you begged.

Jungkook smiled, leaning in and attaching his lips to your bud. A gasp fell from your lips at the sudden temperature change. His warm tongue enveloped your nipple, changing the amount of pressure he applied.

His other hand was occupied with your other breast, pinching and brushing over your nipple, adding a new sensation with each movement.

"God, you are so beautiful. My perfect girl," he spoke between kisses, pulling you closer to him, as if you'd suddenly disappear.

"Only yours, Kookie," you sighed out.

Jungkook pulled away, sliding his hand to your cheek and pulling you into a soft, delicate kiss. You kissed him back, both of you smiling when you accidentally bumped noses.

You moved, standing up and pulling your trousers and underwear off. Jungkook eyed you hungrily, staring at your legs and their smooth appearance. He had realised your fingers were wrapped around the belt loops of his jeans, gently tugging, asking him to lift his backside off the couch.

"Sorry," Jungkook laughed, lifting himself off the couch. "You're just so... breathtaking."

You giggled, pulling off his jeans and boxers. His cock sat against his stomach, tall and erect. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, and the veins pulsed.

You climbed back on top of him, and angled his cock to your entrance. You looked at him, waiting for some sort of permission to continue. He nodded, slowly guiding your hips down onto him.

You would never get sick of the feeling of him pushing into you. He slid into you with such ease, it was as if he truly was made for you. Both of you softly moaned when Jungkook was all the way in, savouring the moment. You looked at him, a smile evident.

"I love you," you whispered.

Jungkook looked at you with wide eyes, not expecting those words from you at such an intimate time. Your smile faltered at his expression, and you grew shy.

"I'm sorry- I just-"

Your words were cut short when Jungkook pulled you close, planting kisses all over your face. The action made you giggle.

"Don't ever apologise for saying that, baby," Jungkook spoke between kisses. "I love you, too."

Slowly, you began to move, in circular motions that had him hitting against your sweet spot immediately. You moaned his name, keeping a steady rhythm. Jungkook's hands stayed on your hips, guiding you when you flinched from sensitivity.

"You want me to move, baby?" Jungkook asked when he felt your legs begin to shake.

"N-no," you replied. "Wanna make you feel good."

"Baby," Jungkook whispered, halting your movements. "I can't feel good if you're feeling discomfort. Let me, please."

Slowly, you nodded, slightly embarrassed. Jungkook kissed you softly and sat forward slightly. He manoeuvred your legs so they wrapped around his waist, continuing to plant small kisses against your lips, then moving to your jaw.

"Kook," you breathed, letting your head fall back as he kissed your neck.

Jungkook slowly began to thrust into you, the feeling of him pushing into you, having you both moan in unison. His rhythm stayed the same, not wanting the romantic moment to be ruined by lust.

"I love you so fucking much," you said in between breaths, your breasts bouncing lightly as Jungkook moved.

"I love you too, baby," Jungkook responded, kneading the flesh of your hips.

You hummed, feeling your high approach with each thrust. Jungkook could feel you were beginning to tighten around him, and he took the opportunity to lock his lips onto yours.

"Come with me," he begged between the kiss, struggling to keep pace.

Now moving along with him to keep the rhythm, you both came together, feeling Jungkook's seed spill into you while you milked him. You gently rocked your hips, helping you both ride out your highs. You only stopped when Jungkook gripped your waist, growing sensitive at the movements.

"That might have been the best sex we've had," Jungkook laughed breathily.

"Maybe because you weren't trying to fuck me into the counter or bed," you joked.

"Hey!" Jungkook protested, but smiled. "You love it when I do that."

"Yeah, you're right. I do," you giggled, resting your forehead against his.

There was silence, pure and peaceful, as if nothing in the world could ruin it.

"So, same time next week?"

"Oh for fuck sake Kook."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

finally! it is done! thank you so much for taking the time to read this and I am so sorry for taking so long to upload anything! I've been focused af to get this done and posted so I hope you enjoyed!

if you enjoyed it please take a look at my other works or if you're interested in requesting an idea/or have a prompt click the links below!

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