#jungkookxreader

[armpirate]

The Vows Between Us || Jungkook

Part 2

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Arranged marriage

w.c.: 13.6k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing, edging (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 40 / 50 minutes

Summary: For Jungkook, marrying you was a calculated move -a necessary step to secure the company that was rightfully his. But also a move to know you'd be his after years of looking at you from afar. For you, it was an escape from the gilded cage your family had locked you in. What neither of you anticipated was the spark that would ignite in the ashes of your arrangement. But in a world where every touch felt like a promise and every whisper hid a secret, falling for him was your first mistake. Because just when you thought his heart might truly be yours, you uncovered the truth. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

The air inside Jungkook's office was warm and suffocating despite the minimalistic modern design and large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Berlin's skyline. You stepped inside with measured steps, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. Jungkook was already there, leaning against the edge of his grand wooden desk with his long tattooed fingers wrapping around the pen that kept swirling on his digits every few seconds, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're early," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something smug.

"I prefer to get unpleasant things over with quickly," you replied, your tone cool and detached as you slipped off your coat. "I assume your father told you why I'm here."

Jungkook chuckled, swirling the pen one last time before putting it down. "Oh, I know. The future Mrs. Jeon wants to 'discuss terms,' right? Sounds like a business merger already." his dark eyes gleamed with interest as he looked you up and down, deliberately slow. "But I'm curious, why did you finally agree? You seemed so determined to avoid me before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Not everything is about you, Jungkook. My reasons are my own."

The smirk faltered for a split second before returning, this time tinged with something bittersweet. "Fair enough," he said, straightening up and taking a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "But you'll have to get used to things being about us. At least, that's what everyone else will expect starting next weekend."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You kept your expression neutral, tilting your head just slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, this marriage may be inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jungkook smiled -slow, dangerous, and entirely too pleased. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That sentence alone had you rolling your eyes, trying to control yourself from slipping your tongue on how disgusted you were by that whole thing.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the strap of yourbag. "As long as you understand where we stand, this arrangement might work. We'll play the perfect couple for the public. But behind closed doors, we keep our distance until we sign the divorce papers. Simple."

Jungkook stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to make your breath hitch. His cologne -warm and spicy- wrapped around you like an invisible trap. "Keep our distance?" he repeated, his voice low, almost amused. "Is that what you want? Because that's not what it looked like back at that business gala... when you couldn't stop staring."

As much as you wanted to deny it, your eyes were indeed on him the whole time. He was charming and captivating, it was impossible to move your eyes away from him. But that hypnosis lasted until his family came up with the idea of imposing that marriage on you. He lost all his charm just at that moment.

You narrowed your eyes. "I was staring at the disaster unfolding around me, not at you."

Jungkook smirked, tilting his head. "Right. That's why your eyes followed me the entire night." he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "You're good at playing it cold, Y/n. But I wonder how long you can keep that act up once we're married."

You refused to back down, your voice calm despite the spark of irritation in your chest. "I've dealt with men far more intimidating than you, Jungkook. Trust me, keeping you at arm's length won't be a challenge."

A flicker of something darker crossed his eyes -something almost dangerous. For a moment, the air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

"Good," Jungkook finally said, his voice a whisper. "Keep trying to resist me. It'll make it that much more fun when you fail."

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step back, reclaiming the distance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever fall for you."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amused awe as he took on the challenge. "We'll see, future Mrs. Jeon. We've got a lifetime to test that theory."

You turned on your heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected you. But as you walked toward the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was right. The real challenge wasn't staying distant -it was making sure you didn't get burned by the fire between you.

"By the way, you mentioned divorce... didn't you?" your tracks stopped the second he mentioned that detail, hearing his heavy steps behind you as he approached his body.

Slowly, you turned to him, unable to back down on your stance "That's what we agreed on."

"Some deals suffer changes as they have to meet different necessities, don't you think?" the way his eyebrows arched, while his lips pursed on a mocking grin almost had you losing your patience. "Divorce was ever on the plate? Because I don't think it was one of my conditions".

"No, it was one of mine" you spat back. "Either sign those divorce papers on good terms, or I'll drag you from one trial to another" Jungkook loved the challenge, he loved the way your eyes fixed on him to make sure he understood everything you were saying.

"What if I don't want to sign them?"

"Then you'll have to find another dumbass to agree to get married to you" you rolled your eyes, thinking that would be the end of your conversation, but his fingers hooked on your elbow to stop you from walking away.

You weren't sure exactly when he got so close, but you could feel the warm air escaping his nostrils on your cheeks.

"Don't try to throw a fist at me" he stopped you. "You're so used to getting what you want, don't you? You pout a little, you act a little bitchy and daddy gives you all you want. Let me give you a spoiler: that won't work with me. The moment you're my wife, you'll do as I say. And if I say I don't want to get divorced, then you won't get those fucking papers".

Your eyes started to water: rage, sadness, frustration... All those feelings were building up as you realized you got to a no-exit stop. Your plans were crumbling down, all your ideas were getting ruined, and all you could do was tighten your lips and open your eyes as much as possible so tears wouldn't escape with a blink.

Daddy's girl? He had absolutely no idea. If you were living in such a perfect place, you wouldn't have agreed in the first place, but the fact that your parents -or people who gave you shelter when you needed it- agreed on engaging their daughter with a complete stranger for money should've given him enough of a hint of your reality.

"Your choice" you managed to get rid of his grip. "Either sign those papers, or I'll make sure to tell everyone what all of this is about".

"You won't. And you wanna know how I know?" he took one step closer to you. "I'll make your life a living hell if you do".

"With what power?"

Your mocking tone was the last straw before he moved his hand from your elbow to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and slamming your body against the wide door.

"I don't need any power for that." his eyes were dark, his threat becoming a promise "Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret ever messing with me. So you better come with a pretty dress and the best of attitudes next weekend". He let go of your throat slowly, calmly placing his shirt properly "I know you'll make the best decision" he finally said.

Your eyes were fixed on him, confused at how easily he let you go. And, somehow, his words were even scarier than his actions, because you could see the threat through them.

The grand hall was filled with muted whispers and expectant gazes, the air thick with anticipation. The soft hum of violins played in the background, their melody delicate but almost haunting. The guests sat in rows beneath an arch of white roses and crystal chandeliers, their eyes flitting between the tall doors at the back of the aisle and Jungkook, who stood at the altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stole a glance at the watch, sliding the sleeve of his jacket just a bit far up.

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen.

You weren't there.

He told himself you'd show up. You had to. But with each passing second, doubt sank its claws deeper into him. His heart pounded, and the polished facade he wore so well began to crack. Was this your way of backing out? A silent rebellion against a marriage neither of you had chosen? Were you actually telling the truth when you said you wouldn't show up if he didn't promise you a divorce?

The doors remained closed, and Jungkook's jaw tightened. His father, seated in the front row, shot him a warning glance -one that practically screamed "Handle this".

Then, just as his patience teetered on the edge of collapse, the heavy doors finally creaked open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

And there you were.

You stood at the entrance in your wedding dress, the long veil trailing behind you, catching the soft light like a halo. For a moment, the room seemed to blur around you, everything fading except the heavy thud of your heart. You could feel every eye on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down on your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your feet felt like concrete as you took your first step. Hesitation rooted itself deep inside you, your body caught in a battle between instinct and obligation.

Jungkook watched you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His dark eyes flickered with a thousand questions. You couldn't miss the way his shoulders tensed or how his lips pressed into a thin line, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal.

Step by step, you made your way down the aisle, but each step felt heavier than the last. Doubt whispered cruelly in your ear. "You don't have to do this" you told yourself.

Your fingers clutched the bouquet so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You forced yourself forward, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet Jungkook's eyes until you stood just a breath away from him.

"Finally," Jungkook muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

There was relief in his tone, but it was wrapped in a layer of frustration.

The officiant began to speak, his words echoing in the cavernous hall. You barely registered them, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Jungkook's eyes never left yours. His expression was calm on the surface, but you could see the storm raging just beneath it: fear, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.

"And now," the officiant said, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind, "if the bride and groom would like to exchange their vows."

Jungkook went first. His voice was steady, but the practiced words carried an unexpected weight, laced with sincerity that caught you off guard.

"I promise to protect you," he said, his gaze locking onto yours. "To stand beside you through whatever comes next. No matter what happens... I'm yours."

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes -just a flash- but it was enough to send your heart lurching in your chest.

Then it was your turn. The officiant turned to you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came.

A heavy silence hung in the air. It stretched long enough to make the guests shift uncomfortably in their seats. Even the soft melody of the violins seemed to falter.

Everything you had prepared so mindfully disappeared at the feeling of being so watched, as if you were under watchful eye. You were sure it'd be obvious you weren't feeling either of the words you were pronouncing.

Jungkook's fingers curled slightly at his sides, his eyes searching yours for a sign, for anything.

The officiant cleared his throat. "Do you, Y/n, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband?" his tone was insistent, as if he wanted to get any words from you to get all of that over with.

The pause that followed was suffocating. You felt Jungkook's breath catch, his entire body coiled tight, ready to unravel.

Although he hoped you wouldn't humiliate him that way, he saw you completely able to do it.

Finally, you whispered the words.

"...I do."

Your voice was barely audible, a breath more than a declaration. But it was enough.

Jungkook exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, though the tension in his jaw remained. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable, as if trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

The officiant smiled, oblivious to the war waging between the two of you. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jungkook hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before leaning in. Your head immediately threw back slightly, enough for him to know you didn't want that kiss and make it seem like a shy move for the rest of the assistants. His hand found your waist -firm but not forceful- as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, calculated for the audience, but the heat of it lingered far longer than it should have. Jungkook had been daydreaming way too long about it to waste that chance.

His lips were warm against yours, but there was something else beneath the surface. A question. A challenge.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours once more. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

The applause from the crowd felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely.

As the two of you turned to face the audience, Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"We're just getting started," he whispered, his voice dark with promise.

You kept your face neutral, your expression unreadable, but your pulse betrayed you, thudding wildly in your chest.

The reception was a spectacle of luxury and elegance, just as expected from a merger of two powerful families. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand hall, where hundreds of guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging polite congratulations.

You smiled and nodded your way through countless conversations, always keeping one eye on Jungkook. He was never far, and every time you saw him start toward you, you slipped between groups of guests or ducked behind another table.

You had managed to avoid him all night. At the cake-cutting ceremony, his hand had hovered near yours on the knife, holding tighter over your skin as you threatened to let the long sword slide from your fingers to his throat. And for a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, yet he only smirked and moved closer to you. You were quick to turn away, disappearing into the crowd the moment the applause broke, trying to get away from him.

Jungkook, however, was nothing if not persistent.

The moment you saw him again, his dark eyes locked onto yours from across the dance floor. This time, there was no escape. The crowd parted just enough for him to make his way toward you, his strides deliberate and confident.

"Running from me again?" he said when he reached you, his voice low, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

You lifted your chin, forcing your expression to stay composed. "I wasn't running. I was... mingling with the guests."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Right. Mingling." he offered his hand, palm open and waiting. "Well, it's time for the first dance, Mrs. Jeon. You wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would you?"

Your stomach tightened at the weight of his words. There was no getting out of this. Not without causing a scene.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm, and you couldn't help but notice how easily they fit together.

The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott filled the air. A sweet, tender song -one that felt far too intimate for the situation, as if it was meant for two people who loved each other.

Jungkook led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting gently on your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse stutter.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up today," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes searched yours, the teasing edge gone now, replaced by something far more serious. "You made me worried."

You swallowed, your gaze dropping for a split second before meeting his again. "I was... thinking things through."

His hand tightened slightly on your waist. "Did you change your mind at the last minute?"

For a moment, you didn't answer. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. The song swelled around you, the lyrics wrapping around your heart like a bittersweet lullaby.

You knew hell would be nothing compared to your life if you didn't show up to the wedding. Not because of Jungkook or his family though, but your adoptive parents. The moment you twisted all of their plans, there would be no escape from it.

At least with Jungkook you wouldn't owe anyone anything. Instead, you'd be the one they owe something to.

Jungkook's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you had, I would've waited. I would've found another way."

Your breath hitched. His words caught you off guard -unexpected and disarming. For the first time that night, the wall you had so carefully built around yourself began to crack.

He seemed so genuine, so caring.

"I'm here now," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "That's all that matters."

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. You're here."

The music continued, the world around you fading as you moved together in perfect synchrony. His touch was light yet grounding, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a fleeting second, you forgot about the crowd, the expectations, the tangled mess of your circumstances. It was just the two of you, swaying gently beneath the chandeliers, the lyrics of the song weaving a story neither of you was ready to admit aloud.

As the final notes faded, Jungkook leaned in just slightly, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

"You can keep running all you want," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "But sooner or later, you'll stop. And when you do... I'll be right here, waiting."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was no smirk, no mask, just him.

The applause from the crowd broke the spell, and you quickly stepped back, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Jungkook let you go, but his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to run again.

And maybe you would. But for the first time, a small part of you wondered if running was really what you wanted. No, you stayed by his side, answering to his challenge with the same power he was showing off.

The party blurred into a collection of clinking glasses, polite congratulations, and watchful eyes. Despite the sea of guests surrounding you, you felt like you were holding your breath the entire time. So when Jungkook leaned close and whispered, "Let's get out of here," you didn't argue. If he hadn't said it, you probably would've escaped by yourself.

Now, the two of you sat in the back of a sleek black car, the hum of the city filling the silence between you. The driver navigated the streets with ease, the warm glow of streetlights flashing across the car's interior.

Jungkook sat beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes kept drifting toward your hand -the wedding ring glinting softly on your finger. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was staring.

You caught him once, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, something unreadable flashed across his face. "No," he said quietly. "Just getting used to the sight."

You turned your hand slightly, the light catching on the diamond. The ring was beautiful, of course -a complex design that was probably picked out by your parents and Jungkook's father rather than by either of you. It felt foreign on your finger, a constant reminder of the deal you'd made.

Jungkook's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft, almost contemplative.

You said nothing, turning your head to watch the city rush by through the window. Jungkook simply smirked, knowing that your silence was better than a sassy response from you.

When the car finally pulled up to the luxury hotel, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, feeling the cool night air brush against your skin. Jungkook followed close behind, his hand hovering near the small of your back but never quite touching.

The suite was exactly what you expected -grand and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Brandenburg Gate. A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolates waited on the marble table, while a large king-sized bed sat at the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens.

You set your bag down and turned to Jungkook, folding your arms across your chest. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the couch."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "The couch?"

"It's comfortable enough," you said, nodding toward the plush, oversized sofa near the window. "Plenty of space."

Jungkook took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "We're married now, remember? Sharing the bed won't kill us."

You scoffed lightly, crossing the room to stand by the couch. "Not happening." You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Fine. You take the bed. I'll sleep here." you rushed to say, feeling your energy consumed by the small talk you made with all the guests.

"No." his response was immediate, his tone firm. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then am I sleeping on the floor?" you arched an eyebrow "Because I won't sleep with you in the same bed".

You stared at him, daring him to argue further. But to your surprise, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'll sleep on the couch."

His sudden surrender caught you off guard. "Just like that?"

He smirked faintly, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

You watched him for a moment, suspicious of how easily he gave in, but ultimately decided not to push it. "Good. I'll get ready for bed."

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Jungkook sank onto the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions. He glanced at the wedding ring on his own hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. For all his confidence and charm, there was something strangely grounding about the weight of the band.

As much as that wasn't the way he wanted you to be by his side, it somehow made him feel good.

When you returned, dressed in something far more comfortable than your wedding gown, Jungkook was already stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

"Comfortable?" you asked, standing by the bed.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his lips quivering into a faint smile. "I've had worse."

You rolled your eyes and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. For a few moments, silence filled the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the windows.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, you heard Jungkook's voice -quiet but clear in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

You hesitated before responding, your voice soft. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

Neither of you said anything after that, but sleep didn't come easily. You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of his presence just a few feet away.

The distance between you felt both vast and dangerously fragile. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you couldn't help but wonder how long it would stay that way.

The morning started quietly -too quietly. You woke up, blinking against the soft morning light spilling into the room, only to find Jungkook already sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. His jacket was gone, and his dress shirt, slightly wrinkled from the night before, was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked far too relaxed for someone who had spent the night on a couch after your wedding.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes flicking to yours the second you stirred. His voice was calm, but there was something smug lurking just beneath the surface, as if he was already one step ahead of you.

You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to sound composed. "Morning."

A few beats of silence passed, too long to be comfortable.

"You were tossing and turning last night," Jungkook said casually, stretching his arms behind his head. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine," you lied, standing and heading for your bag. You could feel his eyes on your every move, sharp and assessing.

"You sure? You sounded restless." his voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You froze, giving him a flat look. "Were you listening to me sleep?"

He grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's hard not to when someone mutters 'This is a mistake' at 2 a.m."

Your face heated. "I did not..."

"You did." his smirk widened. "I thought about waking you up to ask what you meant, but I figured I'd let you dream about it instead."

You crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your consideration, Jungkook."

"Anything for you, love," he said, drawing out the word with deliberate sarcasm.

"You've really mastered being annoying, haven't you?" you shot back, heading toward the closet.

"Years of practice," he said, standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. "You'll get used to it."

You rolled your eyes, yanking open your suitcase with unnecessary force. "God forbid."

Jungkook chuckled under his breath, walking over to lean casually against the wall beside you. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you like this."

You turned to glare at him. "Like what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The bickering. The back-and-forth. Admit it, it's fun."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jungkook, not everything is a game. And if you think this -whatever this is- counts as fun, then we're going to have a very long, very difficult marriage."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "A long marriage... Sounds like you're planning to stick around. It does sound really good to me."

"Oh my god," you muttered, turning on your heel. "I can't do this right now."

You stalked toward the bathroom, determined to get a moment's peace.

"You're already giving up?" he called after you. "We've been married for less than 24 hours, Y/n!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm taking a shower," you snapped, slamming the bathroom door shut.

The water was a relief, washing away some of the tension, but your frustration lingered like a storm cloud. And then, halfway through shampooing your hair, you realized something.

You forgot to bring clothes.

You let out a frustrated groan, rinsing the shampoo quickly before wrapping yourself in a towel. The last thing you wanted was to ask Jungkook for help, so you cracked the door open and peeked out.

He was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for your return like some smug predator.

Of course.

You squared your shoulders and stepped out, keeping your head high as you made your way toward the bag.

Jungkook's eyes found you immediately, sweeping over your damp hair and the towel wrapped tightly around you. He didn't even try to hide it.

"Forgot something?" his voice was low and teasing.

"Not a word," you warned, grabbing your clothes.

But before you could escape back to the bathroom, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were warm, firm, and far too steady for someone who was enjoying this way too much.

"Why bother going back?" he said softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm tone that always made your pulse race. "You're already here."

You tightened your grip on your towel. "Let me go, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a slow, deliberate motion. "Why? What's the big deal? We're married now, remember?"

Your breath caught, but you forced your voice to stay steady. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned in just slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Then prove it. Get changed right here." His gaze dropped for a split second before meeting yours again, his voice barely a whisper. "Unless you're shy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not shy."

You weren't shy, but you didn't like the way your body was reacting to his voice, to his petition and his proximity. And you certainly didn't want him to see it so clearly either.

"Then go ahead," he said, his voice practically daring you.

You glared at him, yanking your wrist free. "Turn around."

"I'm not turning around" he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the fun of it if I can't see you?"

He was trying to intimidate you, challenge you to do something he thought you wouldn't dare to do, so he could then tease you about it.

Two could play that game.

You placed the clothes on the bed, next to where he was. Taking one step back, your hands were placed on both edges of the towel, slowly undoing the knot to let it pool at your feet. Jungkook gulped thick at the sight, not expecting you to actually get naked in front of him, and even less that way, and it gave you a pinch of pride at how nervous he looked for a second.

You didn't need to do anything, just that stare and the sight of your body alone was enough to awaken the most primal needs. His body responded to you, even if it had been just a second he saw you. Your humid skin, the way some drops fell from your hair and rolled down the curve of your breast to get to your hardened nipple. His mouth was watering just with the need of tasting you.

Jungkook blinked, confused at the way your hand was stretched out for him, "The panties" you mentioned as if it were obvious.

His hand moved to his left, grabbing the fabric to hand it out to you. You put them on torturously slow, covering your lower half to snap your fingers and asking him for your bra. Placing the strips on your shoulders, you turned to him, your body fitting perfectly in between his semi-parted legs as you silently asked him to tie the clasp.

Shivers ran through your body at the contact of the reverse of his fingers on your skin, his touch holding on longer than necessary, just because he liked the way you felt as he touched you a little bit too much.

You didn't need to ask, because Jungkook moved to the next item the moment you stepped away.

He should've seen it coming for him when he saw you lifting your feet, placing it on his thigh -way too close to a place where he needed you like crazy. Your fingers moved calmly, sliding the tight over your leg, up the curve of your knee, moving it past your thigh. Yet Jungkook could only focus on how your warmth spread over his skin like wildfire, making him feel you were touching him in places you were not.

When you finally stepped back to put on the other side of the tight, and the rest of clothes, Jungkook felt like he could breathe again, his control coming back to him when he was able to think straight -which also happened when you were fully clothed again.

You thought he'd hesitate or act shy, but instead his cocky attitude came back as he stood up, the height difference becoming obvious again as he towered over you.

"See how it isn't that difficult to be a good girl?" he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You'd have thrown a shoe at him if he hadn't hidden inside the bathroom immediately after airing out that response.

He was insufferable.

The car ride to Jungkook's house was quiet, tense, and far too long for your liking. The morning sun bathed the streets in gold, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere inside the vehicle. Jungkook sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you as you stared resolutely out the window.

He had been surprisingly well-behaved since the towel incident, keeping his teasing remarks to a minimum -though his occasional glances were enough to keep you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his house, your eyes widened slightly. House was an understatement. It was a sprawling modern estate with sleek glass panels, sharp architectural lines, and an air of quiet luxury.

"Home sweet home," Jungkook said, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for you with a half-smirk.

You stepped out, clutching your overnight bag tightly. "Big enough so we won't have to see each other for a whole day"

"Thanks for noticing," he quipped. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

You followed him up the steps, trying not to be too impressed as you took in the pristine interior-marble floors, minimalist décor, and massive windows that flooded the space with light.

"Kitchen's over there," Jungkook said, gesturing toward an open-concept area with gleaming countertops. "Dining room, living room... you know, standard rich-guy stuff."

"Right," you said dryly. "Because this is completely normal."

He glanced back at you with a grin. "You'll get used to it." the mockery on his tone, knowing damn too well you were used to all that luxury and more, shouldn't have been as funny as it seemed for you.

You rolled your eyes, walking a little faster to avoid his gaze. The tension from earlier was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was muted now, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation.

"Upstairs," Jungkook said, leading you to the second floor. You followed him down a hallway lined with modern artwork and huge windows, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and turned to you. "This is your room."

You blinked, caught off guard. "My... room?"

Jungkook nodded, his expression unreadable. "I figured you'd want your own space."

Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had fully expected him to make some smug comment about sharing a bed -or worse, insist on it. But there he was, offering you something you hadn't dared to hope for: distance.

"Thanks," you said quietly, stepping into the room. It was beautiful -spacious, with a king-sized bed, soft cream-colored walls, and a large window that overlooked the shared garden of the building. There was even an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and a deep soaking tub.

You indeed wouldn't need to get out there, except to eat.

"Your things are in the closet" he started. "You didn't bring a lot of things, so I guess you'll bring the rest later?"

"No, that's it" you whispered.

Jungkook stopped for a second, shocked about the fact that you only brought a medium suitcase and the bag you were carrying to pack up all of your things. It wasn't like he was expecting a full suitcase display from you, but certainly not something so minimal.

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything," Jungkook said, lingering in the doorway. His eyes softened, his earlier bravado fading just a little. "Seriously. Anything."

For a brief second, the air between you shifted. He wasn't teasing or smug. He just looked... sincere.

You hesitated, feeling the strange urge to say something more, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you gave him a small nod. "I'll be fine."

He smiled faintly, stepping back. "Alright. Settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

As he walked away, you closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then again, with Jungkook, nothing ever stayed calm for long.

The first month of marriage was nothing short of a battlefield.

It didn't take long for every small interaction to turn into a heated argument. Jungkook always had something to say -sharp and sarcastic, ready to push your buttons at every opportunity. You were no better, meeting his smug remarks with icy glares and curt responses. It became a game, a war of words and wills, with neither of you willing to surrender.

There were good moments, but they were fleeting. It started with you finding out Jungkook filled up your closet with different clothes and accessories, adding up to the small suitcase you first brought. And it slowly evolved into a laugh shared over breakfast when Jungkook nearly burned his toast. A surprisingly comfortable evening spent watching a movie in silence, where the tension seemed to ease just a little. But those moments were always overshadowed by the endless tug-of-war that followed.

It was exhausting, that constant dance of hostility and fleeting truce.

Every day felt like a test of who could push the other further without breaking. The house, despite its size, felt stifling. His presence lingered in every room -a constant reminder that your marriage was nothing more than a cage disguised as luxury.

And today, you'd had enough.

The argument started in the kitchen that morning, over something as trivial as a set of misplaced car keys. It escalated far too quickly, voices rising, accusations flying.

"You always think you can control everything," you snapped, crossing your arms.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, his jaw tightening. "Control? I'm trying to help you, but you treat everything I say like it's some personal attack."

"Because it always is!" you threw up your hands in frustration. "You don't know how to back off, Jungkook! You just keep pushing and pushing... Fuck, you don't let me breathe!"

"Maybe because you keep running away instead of facing things!" his voice dropped, low and sharp. "You're so obsessed with shutting me out that you can't even see when someone's trying to meet you halfway."

You stared at him, chest heaving, words caught in your throat. For a second, neither of you moved. The silence felt heavier than the argument itself.

Then, without a word, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs. You needed air, space, anything to escape that suffocating cycle.

In your room, you grabbed a coat and your purse, your hands trembling with frustration. Your eyes caught on your wedding ring, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of it only fueled the fire burning in your chest.

You slipped it off, the cool metal unfamiliar without the warmth of your skin beneath it. For a moment, you stared at the ring in your palm, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.

Then you set it on the dresser and walked out of the room, not bothering to look back.

Jungkook was still in the kitchen when you came back down, his back to you. You didn't say a word as you grabbed your keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

The sound of your footsteps must have caught his attention because he turned around, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

"Out," you said shortly, not slowing down.

"Without your ring?" his voice was calm, too calm. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You paused, hand on the door handle, refusing to turn around. "I need some time alone."

"And you think taking off your ring is the way to do that?" his footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. "Is this your idea of freedom?"

You finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes head-on. "What does it matter? It's not like this marriage is real anyway."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

For the first time in weeks, Jungkook didn't have a quick response. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place -hurt, maybe, or anger, or both.

"If you walk out that door without it," he said quietly, "don't expect me to come looking for you."

The threat was clear, but it only made your resolve stronger.

"Good," you said, voice steady. "That's exactly what I want."

And with that, you opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

As you walked toward your car, your heart pounded in your chest. Part of you expected him to follow, to stop you. But when you glanced back, the door was already closed.

Maybe he didn't care enough to stop you after all. Although you wouldn't think too much about it. The more he ignored you, the more freedom you'd have.

The bar was harmonized with a low hum of conversation and soft music filling the air. You had no plan when you walked in -just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but at that house. You found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and savoring the temporary escape it promised.

The alcohol warmed your throat and dulled the frustration swirling in your chest. One drink turned into two, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You look like you could use some company."

You glanced up to see a man standing beside you, his smile easy and confident. His eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

"Not really," you said, turning back to your drink.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, leaning in closer. "It's just a conversation. You shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

"I'm fine," you insisted, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

The air shifted before you could say anything else, a new presence filling the space behind you.

"She's not alone."

You froze at the familiar voice, low and commanding. Turning slightly, you found yourself face-to-face with Jungkook. His dark eyes were locked on the man, his jaw tight, his entire body radiating quiet danger.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Her husband."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot, silencing everything around you.

The man's eyes flicked between the two of you, suddenly less confident. "Right... well, my mistake." he backed away with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, though you weren't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Jungkook's eyes hadn't left you once.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice calm but laced with barely restrained frustration. "But I guess taking off your ring and disappearing without a word answers that for me."

"I needed space," you said, crossing your arms. "You don't own me, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened. "You're right. I don't. But I'm still your husband. If you disappear in the middle of the night, I'll come looking for you. And if some creep thinks he can hit on you, then I'm going to do something about it."

You rolled your eyes, the alcohol emboldening you. "So this is about your ego?"

He took a step closer, the tension crackling between you. "No. It's about the fact that I care, whether you want to believe it or not."

His words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Let's go," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "It's late."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said stubbornly, turning back toward the bar.

Jungkook let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. You want to be difficult? Have it your way."

Before you could react, his arm looped around your waist, and in one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Jungkook!" you gasped, pounding your fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Heads turned, curious eyes following the scene as you squirmed in his grip. "You brought this on yourself."

"Jungkook, I swear to God..."

"You can yell all you want," he said calmly. "We're leaving."

Once outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks -from anger or embarrassment, you weren't sure. Jungkook carried you all the way to his car, finally setting you down beside it.

"You're insane," you snapped, your breath coming fast as you straightened your clothes.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I thought you'd have learned to love it by now."

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a standoff.

"Get in the car," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

Your pride told you to refuse, to stand your ground and make this even more difficult. But something about the intensity in his eyes made you falter.

Wordlessly, you opened the car door and got in, your pulse still racing.

Jungkook slid into the driver's seat, starting the car without another word. The ride home was silent, the air between you charged with tension. You could feel his occasional glances, the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel every time your bare finger caught the light.

The ride home was silent. He didn't speak, and neither did you. But the weight of everything unsaid filled the car, pressing down on you both.

When you pulled up in front of the building, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low. "But if you want to leave, really leave, just say it. I'll let you go."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time you'd seen him drop his guard like this.

But instead of answering, you opened the door and stepped out, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook stayed in the car for a moment before following you inside. Neither of you said a word as you climbed the stairs, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reached your room, you paused in the doorway, glancing back at him.

"Goodnight," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

For once, Jungkook didn't have a clever comeback. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should have.

"Goodnight," he echoed, his voice rough around the edges.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you -something neither of you was ready to admit yet.

The tension between you and Jungkook had been palpable since that night. Every word, every glance, felt like a battle -a silent war that neither of you was willing to lose. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you found yourself trapped at one of his company's lavish parties, drowning in champagne and meaningless small talk.

It wasn't your kind of crowd. Polished executives and their equally polished partners swirled around you, exchanging pleasantries and hollow laughs. Being the accessory of the main character of the party wasn't your thing at all. You stood near the bar, sipping your drink, counting down the minutes until you could escape.

That's when you saw him, Jungkook, standing at the center of a group of people, commanding their attention with ease. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

And then you noticed her.

She was standing beside him, too close, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. A striking woman in a sleek red dress, her eyes sparkled with something far more than professional interest.

Your grip on your glass tightened as you watched her lean in, whispering something into his ear. To your horror, Jungkook didn't pull away. Instead, he turned toward her with a slow smile, his eyes dropping deliberately to her lips before meeting hers again.

It was a calculated move -one meant for your benefit. You knew it. He knew it.

Your stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something far more dangerous bubbling in your chest. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

You turned your back to him, willing yourself to focus on the conversation happening nearby. It was meaningless chatter, something about stock prices, but you latched onto it, pretending you didn't notice the way your pulse was racing.

"Jealous, love?"

The voice was low and teasing, right behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hardly," you said, taking a sip of your drink without looking at him. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."

"Is that so?" Jungkook stepped into your line of vision, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your drink at her."

"More like two seconds away from smacking this glass on your head" you finally sentenced.

"That does sound like someone who's jealous"

You forced a smile, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please. If I wanted to make a scene, you'd know it."

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Careful, Y/n. You might give me the wrong idea: that you actually care about me and what I do."

Your pulse jumped, but you refused to let him win. "Trust me, I don't." you narrowed your eyes while looking at him "Just be careful of how you behave in front of everyone. We're still married. In private, do whatever the fuck you please".

His smile was slow, almost predatory. "Good. Because I'd hate for you to get hurt playing a game you can't win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You couldn't stop watching him: laughing, smiling, always with her by his side. Each glance felt like a deliberate push, a challenge to see how far you'd let him go.

By the time the party started winding down, you'd had enough. You grabbed your purse and made your way toward the exit, your steps quick and determined.

But before you could leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Running away again?" Jungkook's voice was calm, but his grip was firm.

"Let go," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

"Not until you admit it." His eyes locked onto yours, the amusement gone, replaced by something far more serious.

"Admit what?"

"That you care," he said simply.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with fury. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here you are," Jungkook said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Still standing in front of me". You didn't know when he stepped so close that your chests were pressed together and your breaths were mixing between you two "I'm only yours, love. You just need to ask me, and I'll declare to you my love without thinking twice".

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the party noise a distant hum. You hated how close he was, how easily he could get under your skin.

But you refused to give him what he wanted. Not tonight.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The air between you felt like a loaded gun, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Jungkook's hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window in stubborn silence.

The tires crunched on the gravel as the car came to a stop in front of the building. You didn't wait for him to say anything -didn't even glance his way as you pushed the door open and strode toward the front entrance.

But the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you, steady and deliberate, made your pulse quicken.

You barely made it inside when Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.

"Care to explain what that little stunt at the party was all about?" his tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You spun around, glaring at him. "Are you seriously accusing me of something after what you pulled tonight? Flirting with her right in front of me?"

Jungkook smirked, stepping closer. "You noticed."

"Of course I noticed!" you snapped, your voice rising. "You made sure I would."

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Maybe. But you didn't have to leave the party like that, running off again like you always do. It's getting old, Y/n."

"Maybe it's because I can't stand being around you," you shot back, your voice trembling slightly with the force of your anger. "Did you think of that?"

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. "No," he said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. "I think you left because it bothered you. Because for once, you didn't have control, and it drove you crazy."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?" his voice was a whisper now, low and deliberate, each word wrapping around you like a challenge. "Then why are you shaking?"

You hated him for being right. Hated how easily he could strip away every layer of defense you had built.

"I'm not..."

"You are," he interrupted, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "And it's not because you're angry. It's because you feel something."

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out.

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before locking onto yours again. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll back off," he said softly. "Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll stop."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.

But you couldn't say it.

The words wouldn't come.

Jungkook's smile was slow and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious, your skin still burning from his touch.

"You're insufferable," you called after him, but your voice wavered, the heat of your frustration blending with something far more dangerous.

Jungkook stopped mid-step, his back still to you. For a split second, you thought he'd ignore you, that he'd let you stew in your own whirlwind of emotions.

But then he turned, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were measured, each one bringing him closer, the air between you thick with electricity.

"You know what's really insufferable?" his voice was low, almost a growl. "The way you keep running. The way you keep fighting me when we both know exactly how this will end."

Your breath caught in your throat as he came to a stop just inches from you, his body radiating warmth, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm not running," you said, though it sounded more like a whisper than the firm declaration you intended.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His touch was light, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of heat racing through you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat. His lips crashed against yours, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss was anything but gentle -wild, desperate, and filled with every bit of frustration and desire that had built up between you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing grounding you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

It felt better than anything neither of you could've ever imagined. It wasn't just a kiss -it was a battle, a collision of everything you didn't say, everything you'd tried to ignore.

His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You gasped when he sank his tongue in your mouth, quickly meeting yours at the same time he cornered you on the wall next to the door, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before moving it back to your neck.

You hated him for making you feel this way, for always knowing how to push you to the edge and catch you before you fell.

But at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths were ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

"Say it," Jungkook whispered, his voice rough and breathless. "Say you don't feel anything."

You stayed silent, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

But the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your body leaned into his, spoke louder than any words ever could.

He took your silence as the perfect answer, smirking to himself before he linked your lips together again. His fingers sank in your hair at the back of your head, twirling them on some locks to pull from them and throw your head to the side as he kissed you down your neck.

"You're absolutely everything I've ever fucking dreamed of" he heavily whispered on your skin. "I want to admire you, worship your body and make love to you so you'd meet a devotion you had never seen in your life. But hell... when you look at me that way..." his thumb brushed over your cheekbone "I want to ruin you so bad, show you no one will fuck you so good to make your ears beep so loud you won't be hearing your own pleas when you ask me to stop".

Your kiss grew more passionate, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, when he kissed you again. His hands began to wander, tracing the curve of your back, the swell of your hips. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and it sent a thrill through you, craving for something you didn't know you were desperate for. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself against him, at the same time his hands held your hips to keep your body glued to him.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck again, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You arched my back, a soft sigh escaping your lips, when his fingers brushed against the little skin that was shown off through the cleavage of your dress. It frustrated you, but it also felt so good the way your body responded to his touch without a resistance, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra, your entrance clenching around nothing as you kept waiting to feel him inside you.

When he looked down at you once again, his hands moved down to the zip of your dress, his thumb brushing on your skin while his other fingers slid the material down. He didn't need to ask you, he didn't need to tell you, you helped him take off your dress.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching. You were definitely better than he could've ever imagined. No light pajamas would ever compare to the vision in front of him.

You reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling from the buttons to reveal his toned chest. Jungkook had to hold back the growl in his throat when you ran your fingers over the muscles, feeling the heat of his skin, making him sure your fingerprints were burning every inch you were moving through.

He wasn't going to let you take control so easily though.

He lowered his head all of a sudden, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth through the lace of your bra. You gasped, your hands fisting in his hair as a way to control your own self. He teased and suckled, his other hand cupping your breast before he dragged his fingers down with the fabric, exposing the flesh, his thumb rubbing against your nipple before he pinched it with his index. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for more.

Jungkook slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and hands. He made you squirm beneath him, he filled your head with pleas you never thought would ever be aimed at him, your body was on fire for him.

You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He lifted his hips to help you, his jeans and boxers coming off in one swift motion. You looked down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of his hard length. He was thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips when a sudden urge to taste him overwhelmed you. Was it how sexy he actually was? Or how bad you wanted him to beg for you and finally accept you were in control? Maybe both?

You leaned down on your knees, not wasting a moment before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around him. You sucked and licked, your head bobbing up and down at a tortuous speed. You could feel him getting harder, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper when he pushed you lower, your nose brushing against his skin to look up to him.

And hell, if that image wasn't the best sight ever...

He pulled you up with one swift motion, your lips still parted to the size of his length when he crashed his lips against yours again. Your back slammed against the door, and your head banged against it the moment he pulled your panties down and slid two fingers in you. His thumb brushed over your clit gently, slowly, which was opposite to the way his curved digits moved and rubbed against your walls.

He earned another moan from you, and his cock twitched in the air against your body once more.

"Who do you belong to, Y/n? Who owns you now?" his voice was thick and raspy as he whispered. His voice was a mix of cockiness and need to prove you always belonged to him.

The moment you tried to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around your throat and stuck your head against the wood to keep your eyes fixed on him.

You didn't know what to do with your arms, how to keep yourself on your feet, but you did know you had to keep your eyes fixed on him.

"My love" he almost sang when he felt the way your walls clenched around him and your clit throbbing "I've only been yours" his digits squeezed your throat tighter, unaware of how that dragged you closer to your orgasm.

Your body squirmed and folded under his grip when that hurricane hit you, yet he didn't stop. His movements were more delicate and slower, but he fingered you through your orgasm until he felt your breathing settling again.

Your lips were parted when his wet fingers slid through them, and you blindly obeyed, closing your mouth around his digits to lick every drop of his work of art. Jungkook barely gave you time to let go of them before his lips crashed against yours again, his tongue looking out for yours to taste you directly on it.

You were so addictive.

Jungkook picked you up effortlessly, humming at your legs wrapping around his waist, as he made his way to his bedroom.

When he let you down on his mattress, he couldn't help but admire the way your naked skin stood out so clearly while lying over his sheets, dying to twirl his fingers on those locks spread over his pillow. You brought in him a feral attitude he didn't know was so strong.

You looked up to him, eager for what was to come, your body ready to jump as he kneeled on the bed and crawled to you. His hands parted your legs easily, resting your calves on his thighs when he redirected his length to you.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, making your moan. "You're so wet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Will you let me fill you up? Hmm?" he looked up to you while still rubbing himself against you "Let me mark you now that you've finally accepted that you're mine".

His words, the idea, the look in his eyes... all of them influenced you to finally nod.

He slid into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. He felt big, bigger than you could've guessed when you took him in your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until your hips met and you both moaned with relief.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, giving the two of you time to get used to each other before he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing around you. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight and wet." he rubbed his nose on yours. "It was really worth it to wait for you".

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Harder," you whispered, your body aching for more.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing in anticipation.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit at the same time his lips found your mouth. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He continued to move, his own body tensing as he chased his own release. You felt him getting harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a final thrust, he groaned, his body shaking as he came deep inside you, his load hitting a deep spot.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies slick with sweat, your breaths ragged. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. And as much as that feeling felt foreign, you didn't push it away. Instead, you snuggled closer to him.

The weeks after that night were nothing like the stormy start of your marriage. Slowly, without even realizing it, you began to lower your defenses. Jungkook softened in his own way, his sharp-edged words losing their sting, replaced by warm glances and lingering touches.

It wasn't love -at least, that's what you told yourself- but it was something dangerously close. You found comfort in his presence, in the late-night conversations you shared after you agreed on sharing bed with him, the stolen moments of laughter, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

The night he was officially named the head of the company, the entire building was alive with celebration. People congratulated him left and right, raising glasses in his honor, praising his charm, his brilliance, and his unstoppable rise to power. You stood by his side, smiling softly as he greeted his investors and thanked his board.

But despite the glamour, something felt off. Jungkook was different -detached, colder than usual, like the man you first met. He didn't seem to notice your growing unease.

Later that evening, after slipping away for a moment to get some air, you made your way down a quieter hallway in the building. As you rounded a corner, voices stopped you in your tracks.

It was Jungkook's.

"You're really settling into this husband role, huh?" the voice was familiar -Eunwoo's, you realized after a second.

His tone was light and teasing, but it was what came next that made your blood run cold.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle. "Don't get carried away. This marriage means nothing. It was a deal, plain and simple. I finally got what I wanted"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a glass clinking.

"And the rest?" Eunwoo asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Sleeping with her?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering painfully in your chest.

"That's just part of the game," Jungkook said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Keeping her close keeps everything in control. She's predictable now. She's exactly where I need her."

Your vision blurred, your mind racing to process what you'd just heard. Every moment you'd spent with him, every touch, every whispered word in the dark -it had all been a lie. A calculated move in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway, cutting into you like a blade.

You turned and walked away before they could notice you, your steps quick and unsteady. Your chest ached, a painful mix of anger and heartbreak constricting your lungs.

By the time you reached the main hall, the noise of the party felt like a distant hum, your surroundings spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

You thought you had started to know him. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between you.

But you were wrong.

You were nothing more than a pawn in his game -a game you never agreed to play.

The rest of the night at the party, you avoided him like the plague, your attitude a huge contrast to how you behaved when the night had started. Whenever Jungkook tried to approach you, you found an excuse to step away -chatting with guests, refreshing your drink, even pretending to admire the floral arrangements like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Y/n" his voice caught you off guard as you lingered near the exit, your hand brushing the stem of an untouched champagne flute. Jungkook's dark eyes studied you, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on? You've been distant all night."

"I'm just tired," you said flatly, forcing a tight smile. "It's been a long day."

His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Not yet.

The ride home was quiet -tense in a way that made the air between you feel suffocating. Jungkook sat beside you, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, as if waiting for you to explain what was wrong. But you kept your gaze fixed out the window, your thoughts swirling in chaos.

Once you were back home, you made a beeline for the stairs, wanting nothing more than to put distance between you as you closed yourself back in your room.

"Y/n" his voice was sharp now, demanding. You stopped halfway up the stairs, your hand gripping the banister tightly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze. The man you had once started to trust, the one who had held you so tenderly just nights ago, now felt like a stranger.

"I want a divorce."

The words fell from your lips with a finality that hung heavy in the air.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "You finally got what you wanted. You're head of the company now. There's no need to keep up this farce anymore."

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think? That this was all just some business arrangement, and now it's over?"

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You've gotten everything you wanted, Jungkook. There's no point in pretending anymore."

"You're unbelievable," he growled, stepping closer. "You want to throw everything away just like that? After everything we've been through?"

You laughed bitterly. "What exactly have we been through, Jungkook? Lies? Manipulation? This marriage was never real. It was just a means to an end for you."

His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And what if it wasn't?"

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him sway you. "It doesn't matter. I'm done."

"You're not done," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to decide that impulsively."

"It's not an impulse," you snapped. "This was part of our deal since the beginning. I've made up my mind."

Jungkook's eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else -something raw and unguarded. "And when exactly did you make up your mind about it, huh?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think it's better for both of us," you said, ignoring the way your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

But Jungkook wasn't having it. His hand gripped the banister beside you, his body blocking your path. "No," he said firmly. "We're not done. Not until I say we are. And you're not leaving," Jungkook said, his voice steady but barely restrained, his body now fully blocking your path. His gaze locked onto yours, fierce and unrelenting.

"Move, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, trying to push past him. "I'm done having this conversation."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist -not hard, but firm enough to keep you from walking away. "No. We're going to finish this right here"

You glared at him, your pulse racing. "What's the point? You made it clear I was just a means to an end. Now that you're head of the company, what reason is there for us to stay married?"

"Because this isn't just about the company!" Jungkook snapped, his voice rising, frustration boiling over. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, he looked genuinely unhinged, like he was losing control of everything he'd carefully built.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "Then what is it about? What part of this marriage was real to you? Tell me!"

His silence was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face for something -anything. But no words came.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Exactly. You can't even answer that."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his frustration tipping into something dangerously possessive. "You really want to know what's real?" he said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. "You." his voice was low, his eyes burning into yours. "Every damn second with you was real"

But for some reason, those words that night felt like the most painful stab at your chest. If there was something clear to you that night, it was that Jungkook never really cared for you, but his own control over you. That idea alone made your head spin, trying to decipher if all of his words in that moment were part of the act as well.

His proximity sent a jolt of heat through you, but you refused to back down. "Words mean nothing, Jungkook. Actions do."

"Then watch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It wasn't soft or sweet -it was raw and consuming, a war between his frustration and desire. His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You tried to fight it, to remind yourself of everything you'd just overheard, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It felt like drowning, like falling too fast and too far, and you hated how easily he could unravel you.

When he finally pulled back, your hand slapped across his face, making it turn. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, until he finally moved his head back up, his eyes searching yours, dark and unreadable. "You think I don't care?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're wrong."

Your heart thundered in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, you believed him. You believed every word, every touch. But the sting of his earlier betrayal still lingered, refusing to let go.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not like this".

Not when you couldn't trust him, or know what he was saying was real or not. Not knowing when he was playing with you or showing off his feelings.

It was too much.

Jungkook's grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Yes, you can. You're not leaving."

"I don't want to be near you" you let go of his grip once again. "You disgust me. I can't even stand being near you right now. Who knows? Maybe it had always been like that and now that the reason that kept us together is gone I can be honest with the two of us. Be honest with yourself, too".

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the marble countertops. You sat at the kitchen island, quietly picking at your lunch, your mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Sleep had been elusive -every word, every touch, every kiss replaying in your head on an endless loop.

You were lost in thought when the sound of the front door slamming snapped you back to reality. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers. He strode over to you and threw them onto the counter in front of you, the crisp white pages fanning out across the surface.

Your heart stopped for a second as you glanced down at them: "Divorce Agreement". Signed.

"You wanted this, right?" Jungkook said, his voice cold and biting. "There. You've got it. Congratulations, you're free."

You looked up at him, stunned into silence, your fork frozen in mid-air. His eyes were like shards of ice, his usual warmth completely gone. He looked almost... victorious, but underneath it, you could sense something else, some of his vulnerability was still obvious in his eyes.

"Jungkook, I..."

"You don't need to say anything" he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "You made it clear last night that this marriage means nothing to you. So, I'm giving you what you want. No more pretending. No more games."

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you struggled to find your voice. "You think this is what I want?" you finally said, your voice trembling.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked for the divorce. I'm just making it easy for you."

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. "You're unbelievable."

Jungkook crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a bitter smirk. "No, what's unbelievable is that you think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you want. You're the one who pushed me away, Y/n. I'm just giving you the freedom you begged for."

"Don't you dare act like you're some kind of victim here," you snapped, rising to your feet. "You lied to me, acting like you cared, like you were into me. You said you were after me long before all of this happened... Bullshit! You used me for your business, just like you admitted to Eunwoo. But I was dumb as fuck to believe we were more than that".

His eyes flickered with something -surprise, perhaps, or regret- but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same infuriating calm. "So, that's what this is about," he muttered. "You overhear one conversation, twist it in your head, and suddenly I'm the villain?"

"I didn't twist anything," you said, your voice shaking. "I heard exactly what you said. That I'm just a pawn in your game. That sleeping with me was just part of your plan. Hope you enjoyed the bit of control you had while you fucked me."

Jungkook laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You really think that's all you are to me?"

"Isn't it?" you challenged, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The silence that followed was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"You already made up your mind," he said quietly. "So what's the point in convincing you otherwise?"

Your breath caught in your throat, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to tear down the walls he had so carefully built around himself in less than a few days. But instead, all you could do was stand there, your heart breaking all over again.

"Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "If that's how you want it."

He nodded once, his face devoid of emotion. "It's what you wanted, remember?"

Annoyed, you reached for a pen, signing up the papers next to him, slamming it against the table before getting up and walking away, leaving the papers on the counter in front of him. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house, and for the first time since the start of your marriage, you felt truly alone.

[jungkookstatts]

All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 

“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

[yok00k]

¿can you kiss me more?

pairing: hellokittylover!oc x boxer!jk

genre: smut

“baby, hold me ‘cause I like the way you groove”

summary: jungkook’s lust and love for you becomes insatiable

warnings: MATURE— cockwarming, slight somnophilia [consented], jk jerks off in front of oc, jk is a pervert and hella possessive (& mentally obsessed w/ oc), unedited, lowercase intended

word count: 900

author’s yap: i’m kinda back bc I’m in my jobless era🥸. I wrote this a few months ago and just kinda abandoned it -_- it’s also far from the initial scenario that I was gonna write but meh.

“koo..so deep inside me” you softly cry as for the fact that his entire length is buried deep within your aching walls. you can feel how hard Jungkook is inside you.

“yeah? you’ll keep me warm, right?” he lowly said while smirking underneath you. he firmly shoves himself more, resulting you gently tug on his long hair as he further sucks one of your perky nipples, making it swollen.

—

this particular action is what 's been keeping him occupied for the past thirty minutes as soon as he came back from his 2-hour morning boxing session. jungkook spotted you in the same position you were in before he left. the only difference now is that his thick comforter that wrapped your whole body is no longer covering every inch of you. which makes your baby pink see-through lingerie on display for him to see, only for his sight to enjoy.

what a drooling view

he goes up to your sleeping figure, taking a closer look of your exquisite physique. your cleavage almost flashing him because of how low cut the piece of cotton fabric you’re wearing. not forgetting to mention those curvy hips of yours and naturally thick and tender thighs that only he can touch. nobody else. not on his watch

jungkook feels like some perverted man lusting over your unconscious frame. you’re so sweet, too fragile. seems like in one touch, you’ll break.

however that’s all facade. you may seem too innocent but he knows every tiny detail of yours. including those dirty secrets that turn you on and wild kinks that nobody would’ve guessed you’re into. to him, you have the face of an angel with devilish preferences.

you initially woke up with a pleasurable sensation that jungkook had caused you: a storm of wet kisses from your neck to the valley of your breast accompanied by a pair of muscular arms roaming around your figure. it’s a habit for both you and jungkook to be touchy to one another in the morning. you love showing your love and affection to him, so as he does to you therefore you allow him to express physical intimacy towards you.

as much as you’d love to show your love back to him, you’re still sleepy and lack energy to move. a few seconds later, you fall back to sleep.

on the other hand, jungkook is getting even more aroused by this situation. his fully tattooed arm moves its way down to your backside, giving your plumpy ass a tight squeeze before proceeding to knead your cheek.

your sleeping figure doesn’t help with his high sex drive. how would his sexual urges decrease when the person in his fantasies is laying on his bed. you.

before he could ever comprehend what he’s doing, he found himself kneeling in front of your ass cheeks. jungkook lowers his light gray sweatpants, just right down under his balls, setting his erected cock free.

he leans down towards you to plant a tiny peck in your temples. jungkook locks his attention to your angelic face as he begins pumping his member toward your ass that’s covered by transparent lace fabric. he smudges his oozing precum around his til using his thumb while thinking how pretty your swollen lips would be if he smeared his fluid around them.

he continues to ejaculate, tightening his rough palm around his cock trying to imitate the tightness of your pussy when he nests himself inside you. your tight walls are 100% way much better than his fucking hands. it’s no doubt that nothing and nobody can compare to you. not even a bit

jungkook fails to be soundless and slips out quiet groans, cursing by how good and light headed he feels right now. he hopes that he could stay in this scenery forever. having you comfortably and peacefully sleeping on his bed while he jerks off in front of you. plus you wouldn’t mind just laying there and looking effortlessly pretty for him, right?

he’s almost there, he’s starting to feel the anticipated satisfaction coming towards him. by the moment, he shuts down his eyes as he throws his head back, savoring the intense feeling of pleasure as he reaches his highest peak.

jungkook spills ropes of hot white cum, aiming his oozing tip over the thin baby pink fabric that barely covers your ass. he releases a few more moans as he fully emptied himself to the cloth of your lingerie.

he arrives his desired destination, his paradise

you rise from your sleep by a familiar faint noise, more like a series of whimpers. you lift your head and catch that those breathless sounds are coming from none other than your boyfriend, jungkook. you also notice that he’s weakly pumping his hand around his cock, slowly coming to a halt.

“kookie?” you softly call, which brings him back from heaven to reality.

once he opens his eyes, he locks eye contact with your beautiful eyes, an innocent smile is painted on your face. his appearance softened, as if he wasn’t lusting over you a second ago.

he lifts his upper body and leans closer to your face, giving your lips a smooch.

“good morning baby”

series_m.list

[ririkookiemonster]

Syllabus of Secrets - JJK

Summary: You have been crushing hard on your hot English professor, Jeon Jungkook for months. When nothing seems to work when you do everything to get his attention, totally fed up and desperate, you decide to go all out: submitting a smutty story for your English project, pouring all your fantasies about him into it.

Pairing: Professor!jungkook x Student!reader

Genre: Smut

Warning: Dirty talk, unprotected sex (DO NOTTTT) degradation, name calling, fingering, spanking, rough sex, smut reading, office sex, dom!jk, sub!oc, student x professor, reader sends Jk a smut report, basically porn but in words.

Word count: 2.4K+

Writer: riri⛓️

Note: this is my first writing omggg. i have absolutely NO experience in writing, i just love to write hahaha. i hope y’all love this. please let me know how you feel about this one shot. please leave your suggestions and do tell me if there’s anything i can do to improve my writing. there’s always a room for improvement. anywayssss i hope you like it haha <33

🖇️MASTERLIST🖇️

🖇️click here to be added to the taglist🖇️

DEBUT POST!!!!

You have been lusting after a certain someone for months now.

The cold-hearted English professor, Mr Jeon, had always been the definition of sexy. He is someone who can make ANYONE fold by just one look. He had always been on your mind since the semester began.  Always dressed sharply in a suit with a tie and a perfectly kept haircut, his sharp eyes seemed to cut through you whenever you spoke.

As you paced through the hallway, you remind yourself that he has never acknowledged your achievements in class, even when you’ve answered his questions with confidence, or aced another test. Again.

You've been doing everything you could to be noticed by him. Even if it meant giving him looks, yes, not the innocent ones, or dressing on a tight top, hoping, you’ll gain his attention.

You swore you’d do ANYTHING to make him notice you.

And so you did…

You decided to get a little creative with your last project. You know you went too far by writing an erotic article for your English project. The writing was impressive, with your use of descriptive adjectives helping to bring the scenes to life.

And guess what? He did notice the lewd piece of project you submitted. Now that he’s called you to his office, you’re nervous. You’re sure the cold man is going to chastise you for your suggestive writing, but you can’t help but be turned on by just the thought of him.

You pace through the hallway that leads you to his office, with your heart pounding  unsure of what kind of reception you’ll get from him. Now it’s either you risk a bad grade, or you take the risk of him being completely disgusted by you. You brace yourself and knock the door before turning the knob.

You peek in through the door, and a pair of cold eyes already welcome you, as you make your way inside the office.

“Sit down.” He said coldly.

 You gulp nervously and take a seat, maintaining eye contact with the handsome professor. His strong manly scent invades your senses, and his dark aura makes you you even more nervous, which doesn’t help the situation. He pulls out some papers and places them in front of you as his eye pierce through your soul.

“Miss Y/N. This… this is an analysis of English romanticism. But you know that, don’t you?”  He says, pointing at your English ‘project’.

“Sweetheart I’ve been overlooking your shamefull behaviour in my class for far too long, I see that my tolerance is now embolding you.” He adds.

“Mr Jeon I-”

“Let me be VERY clear that is a university, not a strip club. It is wildly inappropriate of you to wear those short skirts to my class and it is even more inappropriate for you to to be spreading your legs during my lecture to demonstrate your ‘lack of undergarments’ to me.” He cut you off, looking pissed, only making your jaw drop in surprise.

“I thought I might be imagining things but then you come in and hand me THIS SMUT for my feedback.” he adds, glaring at you.

“I-It was piece of my creative writing, nothing more, Mr Jeon.” You add, as you gulp nervously, looking at him with the most innocent eyes. He narrows his eyes at you, and exhales heavily.

“You are an audacious little minx, aren’t you?”

Your lips form a thin line as you look down at the floor. “I swear, it was nothing like that, Mr Jeon.”

“Drop the act you little whore!” Jungkook warned as he slowly walks towards you.

“Tell me, what do youi think happens when you tease your professor all this semester? What do you think happens when you spend your eyes glazed over my lecture? Playing with the hem of your skirt, teasing your lips with the tip of your pen as if their inclination is to wrapped around something.” He adds, making his way towards you.

“What do you think that does to me, you naughty little slut? What do you think it makes me imagine doing things to you.” He spoke in a low murmur, brushing away a strand of hair from your face.

“N-nothing.” You replied, biting on your lower lip, continuing to avoid eye contact with him.

“NO REALLY, TELL ME. I am your English professor, sweetheart. And we use words here. BIG DESCRIPTIVE WORDS, full of imagery.” He orders, as he kept his gaze on you. “And look at me when i talk to you, slut!”

Your eyes nervously find the way to his as you reply in a soft murmur. “That you’d want to fuck me…?”

Your reply only makes him chuckle mockingly. “Youre so cute. Is that all you think I’d do to you? I’d just fuck you? HOW UNIMAGINITIVE..”

He picks up the pages of your article and starts to flip pages. You swore you saw an evil glint in his eyes. “Lets see what you’ve written in your papers, don’t we?”

“You don’t think i’d ‘desecrate’ your needy cunt until you loose your mind?”

“Or how about offer you the ‘sips of divinity’ with the weeping tip of my cock until you’re drunk with lust?” He looks at you, his lips forming an evil smirk. “So my aspiring little y/n, is that what you want me to do to you?”

Shit.

You stare into those eyes, unsure of what to say, though you’ve been practically dying for this. You just nibble nervously on you lips and try to speak but your words get caught in your throat. Your face is flushed with embarrassment.

“I can see you’re too flustered to answer, Y/N. That’s alright for now, we’ll help that innocent mouth of yours to catch up with your deliciously vulgar mind soon enough. In the mean time how about you use your body to show me what you want?”

“W-what do you mean, Mr jeon?” You're shocked by his request and struggle to process what he's asking you to do.

“Sit on my desk with your legs spread. NOW.” Jungkook commanded, as he studies your body, waiting for you to stand up.

You hesitantly get up but a strong arm grabs you by the wrists and pulls you towards him. He's much stronger than you'd realized, and he easily lifts you onto the table behind you.

Jungkook stands over you, his eyes blazing with desire, as he slips his hand under your skirt until you feel his fingers lingering over your pantie’s waistband. Your mind is hazy as you feel it slipping down your thighs, leaving you exposed, feeling extremely aroused as you hear him and in a husky voice.

“Go on. let’s see if you’re more than just a tease. finger yourself, sweetheart. I want to see how desperate that needy little cunt of yours is.”

Following his orders almost immediately, you desperately start to touch yourself, inserting your finger deep in your already wet cunt, shamelessly moaning over your own fingers. Your lewd noises only made Jungkook smirk.

“While you shamelessly dive your fingers knuckle deep in that luscious little pussy of yours, i’ll dive deeper into the precious dirty mind of yours. Let’s see what other silly little fantasies you’ve written here, why don’t we?”

He smirked as he pulled those papers out, yet again. He cleared is throat, and started reading out loud.

“He towered over me with an obscene grandiosity, like some great erotic deity. his turgid member eclipsed my vision as the sun does the sky.” He laughs mockingly, continuing

“And look at this…. I felt an exhorting rush of pleasure as he pushed greedily into me, and again, penetrating my inner walls.”

He sighs and looks at you. “You know, if he’s already pushed into you, how is he further penetrating? you know what? I don’t even have the patience for this one.” He throws away the sheets as he looks to deep into your eyes, sending shivers down your spine.

“Your over use of adjectives is TERRIBLY self indulging, you know?” He stated.

You stared at him like a statue, completely silent. You took a deep breath as you finally mustered up the courage to reply. “My apologies Mr Jeon, but i think my project was a—”

“Hey hey hey!” He cut you you in middle as his face darkens and and he stands up abruptly. “Did you just stop fingering yourself, little slut!?”

And before you could answer, he grabbed you by your thighs, and pulled you towards him, your dripping needy cunt in display.

“You’re such a good student but you really are useless in fucking yourself properly. Look, I’ll show you how to do it!”

You let out a shriek as he shoved his long fingers inside you without warning, fucking your wet pussy in a ruthless pace. Your body started to shiver because of the vibrating sensation and the satisfaction his fingers were providing you.

“Oh fuck!” You let out a muffled moan, as you gripped his shoulder with one hand, and balancing yourself in the top of the table from the other.

“You like that, whore?” Jungkook asked, watching your lewd face, with drool covering your chin, fucking your cunt as fast as ever. You nodded in response, only to earn a merciless pinch in your clit by him, causing you whimper.

“WORDS! I NEED WORDS YOU LITTLE FUCKTOY!” Jungkook growled, fastening the pace of his hands, causing you loose your mind.

“Y-y-yes, i like when you finger m-me like a d-dirty slut i am, Mr J-jeon.” You managed to answer, which was quite brave after the merciless treatment you were getting by Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook smirked as he pinched your nipple, and continues to finger fuck you. “This is how a stupid little whore like you should be fingered. Roughly. Relentlessly. Ruthlessly.”

Feeding his ego and his arousal only more, you whimpered shamelessly, your legs shaking, as you feel a familiar knot forming in your stomach. You bite down on your lower lip to suppress your moans, but the fingering did nothing to your favor.

“Mr Jeon i t-think i am close…”

Jungkook glanced at you, and seeing your ruined face with smudged mascara and lipstick, with drool covered in your chin, he knew you were close.

“You cum very easily don’t you? Such a slut.” He scoffs. “You don’t get to cum on my fingers. I want you to cum on my cock, like you imagined me, in your fanstasies.”

He pulls his fingers out, and you only frown in response.

“Cmon, be a good girl and clean my fingers for me. I will reward you with my ‘turgid member’ soon after.”

He shoved his dripping fingers on your mouth as you tasted yourself on his fingers, You sucked and licked his fingers clean, as if your life depended on it, earning a smirk from him.

“Good girl. Now get up, and bend over facing the desk, with your legs spread apart.” He commanded as he helped you get up, and placed you in the position. He grabbed your hips as he thrusted roughly into your pussy, and started moving in a ruthless pace.

“O-oh my g-god Mr Jeon” You whimpered in pain and pleasure, as your one hand gripped his shoulder tightly, and the other rested on the table, to keep your balance. Your lewd noises only fed his ego and arousal, as he smirked maintaining the pace.

“This is how fucking sluts like you deserve to be fucked! Until you’re all swollen. Until you’re all numb. Until you forget why were you even here in the first place. and oh….” He landed a harsh spank on your ass, making you gasp in pleasure.

“Until you start to treat your professor properly. Until you forget every word of your pompous vocabulary.”

“I-i promise to be good Mr J-jeon..” You manage to mumble, as he continued to brutally punish your needy cunt.

“Oh you will, little bitch! You will be a good little whore for your professor. That’s what you get for being such a tease.”

You throw your head back as the familiar feeling of a knot in your stomach starts to overtake your mind again. You knew you wont be able to last long. “I-i am close, Mr Jeon!” You moaned out, only to earn a stinging sensation of a spank in your ass again.

“Be a good fucking slut and wait for me to cum too. Can you do that Y/N? can you do that? Hmmm?”

You nodded as you closed your eyes, trying to control your orgasm but the feeling of pleasure with his strong thrusts makes it unable to do so. You try to hold yourself as much as you could, while he started to fondle with your breasts, teasing the tip of your nipples with his thumb, making it only harder for you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that Y/N? Good little slut.” He smashed his lips against yours, as he kissed you with all his might, his lips gradually trailing to your collarbone and then to your breasts. He started to suckle on your nipple, earning a loud moan from you.

“That’s it baby, be a good babygirl and cum for me. i am close too.” He declared, as he started to pinch your nipples, driving you over the edge with his manic pace.

“Fuck fuck fuck, i think i am cumming!”

“Go on little whore! milk my cock! show me how filthy you are. Cum for me!”

You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, your toes curling and your vision blurry. Feeling you shudder and start to cum, Jungkook increases the intensity of his thrusts. You feel his member twitch as you knew he’s close. With one final thrust, he released his hot cum inside you, pulsing with each thrust. "Fuck," he grunts out between breaths.

His head rested against your shoulder, you both were breathing heavily, your sweaty bodies intertwined. After a few minutes, he pulled out of you with a wet pop, his cum dripping out of your walls. He grabbed a box of tissues from his drawer, and cleaned himself and your dripping, utterly spent core.

While you try to regain your composure, Jungkook helps you stand up and fix your clothes.

“T-thankyou professor.” Is all you could say, noticing his gesture.

“It’s alright, Miss Y/N.” Jungkook nodded, helping you to get on your feet. Just as you were about to leave, He called out.

“Miss Y/N, you know, whenever you need help, you can always approach me. You know where to find me…”

A red tint crept up on your face, as you nodded. “I will, professor. Have a good day” and exited his office.

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Please leave comments and let me know how you liked my debut post. and let me know if i can do something to make my writing better. a room for improvement is my driving force🩷🪽

~ riri💋

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#syllabus of secrets

[dillydandydaisy]

Cursed in Your Orbit

Prologue

“Pay the damn rent or get out!”

The landlady’s voice could probably shatter glass and definitely Y/N’s patience.

Under her breath, Y/N muttered, “Why not donate that banshee voice to a startup, ma’am? Maybe they’ll turn it into clean energy or something. At least then you’d be useful after wasting oxygen all these years.”

“What did you just say, you ungrateful brat?” the woman shouted, her voice echoing off the cracked, peeling walls.

This so-called house that this old woman was howling about was falling apart. It wasn’t 'affordable vintage charm.' It was just five stages of grief. The only free luxury was sunlight leaking through a massive hole in the ceiling. If Y/N stretched far enough, she could probably high-five a pigeon.

“I said shouting isn’t good for your blood pressure,” she replied with a tight, polite smile that didn’t match the irritation bubbling inside. “I’ll pay you in the evening. But for that, I need to actually go to work.”

“Who the hell would come to you, dimwit? Other than those spiders nesting in your dusty little clinic!” the landlady snapped. “Even they need therapy after living with you!”

Y/N stared at her blankly. The audacity. And in orthopedic slippers no less.

🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫

Meanwhile, in a shadowy alley on the other side of the city...

The air didn’t just smell bad. It stank of rust, mold, and something that used to be alive.

A silver blade flashed, quick and cruel, slicing through a man’s trembling hand. His cry echoed down the alley, but it didn’t last long. The next stab landed in his stomach. Blood spilled fast. So did his insides, sliding out across the wet pavement.

A laugh followed. Low. Cold. Heartless.

Jungkook stood over the body, wiping the knife clean on the dying man’s shirt.

“I’ve eaten sushi smarter and more useful than this idiot,” he muttered.

He was dressed in black from head to toe. Tailored jacket, designer watch, boots that probably cost more than a building’s rent. The blood pooling at his feet didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Clean this up,” he said to his men, snapping the knife shut. “And tell that rat in Sector Seven if he sends another spy, I’ll cut his balls off and hang them from my rearview mirror.”

His men moved without hesitation. One dragged the body away like it was an old mattress. Another wiped up the blood with quiet focus. No panic. No guilt. Just another night on the job.

Jungkook slid into the backseat of a blacked-out car and lit a cigarette. He inhaled like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his temper entirely.

“Third one this week,” he muttered to Taehyung, his trusted man, apart from Jimin. “Is it really that hard to get through a day without betrayal, whining, or someone trying to be clever?”

Taehyung, behind the wheel, gave a lazy shrug. “You’re scary. That tends to attract challengers.”

Jungkook blew out a stream of smoke. “Next idiot who crosses me is getting served his own tongue on a plate.”

The car rolled off into the night, swallowed by shadows. The alley fell silent again, at least until someone else made the mistake of thinking they could outlive a warning.

[kikiswriting7]

Seoul Connection ✈︎ JJK ✈︎ PJM

CHAPTER 6

You arrive at work exactly on time. Not early, not late. Neutral.

You clock in, settle at your desk in the rehearsal room, and begin reviewing your checklists for the day—camera angles for the afternoon shoot, backline confirmations, sound setup revisions. It’s the usual rhythm that you have fallen into in the past month. Familiar. Safe.

Except it’s not.

Your skin still prickles from last night. The noise, the light, that moment in the club you’re trying hard to delete—his hand, the pressure of it, the way your body stiffened before you even had time to really register what was happening.

You haven’t told the girls. You didn’t text Seo-Jun back. Even though he texted maybe one too many times for your liking. You haven’t really looked at your phone at all, actually. It’s easier not to think.

So you sit. And you focus.

You keep your face calm, your spine straight, your tasks in check.

But when one of the sound guys brushes your shoulder while passing a cable behind you, your body reacts.

A quick, automatic flinch.

Just a twitch—so small no one should notice.

Except someone does.

You feel the heat of his gaze before you even look up.

Jungkook stands on the far side of the studio, half-bent over a monitor setup, a cord in one hand. His head is tilted slightly, one brow faintly raised. His expression unreadable.

Your stomach drops.

You immediately look away, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like nothing happened.

It happens again an hour later.

You’re crouched by one of the cases, sorting the smaller equipment pieces when Jimin approaches with a light laugh and a clipboard in hand.

“Hey,” he says casually, crouching beside you, “you good with this checklist, or should I double-check it before you send it over to the floor team?”

You nod, smiling faintly. “It’s good. Already cross-checked the light positions.”

“Wow. Gold star for you.”

He nudges your shoulder gently with his own. It’s friendly. Normal. The same was he has done a couple of times before.

And still—your body freezes for a second.

You catch it too late, feel your own chest tighten. You hope he doesn’t notice.

But he does. Of course he does.

Jimin tilts his head slightly, his playful grin dimming. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You force another smile. “Just didn’t expect that.”

He doesn’t press. But he doesn’t look convinced either.

You pull away politely, standing. “I’ll go prep the next set.”

You don’t look back.

By lunch, you’re wound so tightly you barely hear your name being called.

“Y/N”

You blink, glance up. Jungkook stands in front of you, a protein bar in one hand, his hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms. The studio lights cast a soft sheen across his cheekbones, but his expression is strangely neutral.

“You forgot to eat again,” he says, holding the bar out to you.

You hesitate. Looking between the treat in his hands and back to his face.

He waits, not smiling like he usually does. Just watching.

“It’s fine,” you say softly. “I’m not hungry.”

“Eat anyway.”

You finally take it, your fingers brushing his for half a second. You pull your hand back quickly, clutching the wrapper.

Jungkook leans against the edge of the table, crossing his arms loosely over his chest.

“You always flinch like that?”

Your heart skips. “What?”

His eyes stay on yours. He doesn’t say it with judgment, or even concern—it’s something a bit more than that. Measured.

But not cold.

“I’ve been around you for weeks,” he says. “I’ve never seen you act like people touching you was a problem.”

Your lips part—but nothing comes out. Then shut again.

He shrugs slowly, his tone softening just slightly. “Just wondering if someone did something.”

You look down. “Nothing happened.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You glance around the room, but no one is paying attention.

You force a breath through your nose. “It’s fine. I don’t… I just didn’t sleep well.”

Jungkook leans in a little closer—not physically, but emotionally. His presence narrows in on you, quiet and grounded.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he says. “But if something’s wrong… I don’t think you should pretend it’s nothing.”

You finally meet his eyes again.

And you say it gently, without a hint of emotion

“Jungkook its really ok. I just didn’t sleep very well”

Something flickers behind his expression—regret? frustration?

He doesn't push.

Just takes a breath, straightens up, and gives a tiny nod.

“Okay,” he says getting back up. “But maybe try eating that before it melts in your hand.”

He turns and walks away.

When he finally leaves the room, you look down and realize your fingers have crushed the corner of the bar from how tightly you were holding it.

You’re outside, behind the building, leaning against the railing near the loading dock—your unofficial break spot. Your coffee’s cold, but you’re still holding it, sipping like it might ground you. Gently nibling on the protein bar jungkook gave to you.

It’s a quiet moment. Almost peaceful.

Until you hear the door creak open behind you.

“Hey.”

You turn slightly and find Seo-Jun there, hands in his pockets, a hesitant look on his face.

“Hey,” you echo, soft and tired. You haven’t been clearly avoiding him today but you also were not looking for his company either.

He walks over and stands beside you, not too close—but not far enough to ignore. There’s a silence between you that isn’t awkward, but it’s weighty. Like he came here with something to say and is still working up to it.

“You’ve been off today,” he says eventually, glancing sideways at you. “Something happen?”

You keep your eyes on the concrete taking another small bite before answering. “No, not really.”

“You sure?” You can feel his gaze on you.

You nod. “Just tired.”

He studies you for a second. “Was it the club?”

You blink. Slowly. Your heart kicks a little. You don’t want to think about the club again. You are honestly getting tired at this point from people asking if you are ok and if something happened.

You don’t answer right away. Seo-Jun watches your silence and softens his tone. He reaches for your arm and you stare for a second at his hand on you.

“Y/N… if someone did anything to you, even if it felt small, I—”

“Nothing happened,” you interrupt, a little too sharp. Finally looking up at him with a blank expression on your face. “Really. I’m fine”

He backs off slightly, hands raising in surrender. “Okay. I believe you.”

The silence that follows is tenser now. He breaks it gently.

“I’m only asking because I care, you know. Not just as a co-worker. You know that, right?”

You look at him—his expression is honest, warm, maybe too open. It makes your chest hurt.

“I know,” you murmur. “You’re kind.”

He takes a step closer. It’s subtle—but you notice.

And so does someone else.

“Break room’s not good enough anymore?”

The voice comes from behind you.  Low.

Casual but at the same time not casual at all.

You freeze.

You both turn to find Jungkook slightly leaning at the doorway, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His expression is unreadable—but there’s a flicker in his eyes. Darker than usual. Sharper.

Seo-Jun straightens a little. “Just getting some air.”

Jungkook nods slowly and gives a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Right. That’s why you’re trying to corner her outside like it’s a drama scene?”

“Excuse me?” Seo-Jun says, surprised.

You step between them instinctively, voice flat. “We’re just talking.”

Jungkook’s eyes flick to you for half a second, then back to Seo-Jun.

“She said she’s fine,” Jungkook mutters, jaw tightening. “Maybe take the hint.”

Seo-Jun’s brows knit. “You’re being weird, man. What’s your deal?”

“My deal,” Jungkook says, stepping forward, “is watching you look real comfortable trying to pull her aside every chance you get. You think she wants that?”

You blink.

Seo-Jun opens his mouth, then closes it.

Your heart is racing, and not in the way it normally is to when you are with Jungkook.

“Stop,” you say, voice sharper now. “Both of you. This is ridiculous.”

Jungkook looks at you, but he doesn’t back down. “Just saying. If someone actually gave a damn, they’d leave you alone when you clearly don’t want to be touched.”

The words hit too directly.

Seo-Jun looks between the two of you, frowning. “Okay. Got it.”

He steps back. “Let me know when I can talk to you without getting pushed around.”

You don’t say anything. God he has some guts to say that to him. Jungkook with a flick of his finger, if he really wanted to, find a way to move Seo-Jun to some other position really fast. Even though you don’t believe he would do so.

He leaves.

The door swings shut behind him.

Jungkook stays where he is, arms crossed now, chest rising and falling with too much tension.

You don’t want to ask. Not really. Your head is still heavy from last nights drinking and, in fact, you dind’t sleep well at all. You just want to go back home call Evi and tell how stupid life feels right now.

But you do ask.

“What was that?”

He shrugs, not looking at you.

“Don’t like the way he talks to you.”

“Why?” you press. “Because he does?”

Jungkook finally looks at you, jaw set.

“He doesn’t know you.”

“And you do?”

That stops him cold.

For a beat, nothing moves between you. No words. No breath.

And then, softer—less angry—he says:

“I’m trying to.”

You don’t answer. You don’t know how to answer. Yeah, if theres something Jungkook has been learning how to do is shut you up alright.

So you turn and go back inside before he can say anything else.

But the weight of it follows you even if he doesn’t.

You are clocked out when you find yourself on the rooftop of the building, the skyline flickering like static. You didn’t mean to come here—your body just moved on its own, like it needed air, distance, a moment.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

[Sana]: Have you left already?

You pause. Then reply: 

[you]: Roof.

Minutes later, the door creaks open and she steps out, two bottled drinks in hand.

She hands you one without a word, plops down beside you on the low ledge, and kicks her feet out like she’s lived on rooftops her whole life.

“You look like you’re ten seconds away from fighting someone,” she says casually, bumping your arm. “Should I be worried?”

You laugh—but it’s dry. “I already did that today. Sort of.”

“Oh?”

You take a breath, then let it out slowly. “Jungkook and Seo-Jun almost got into it.”

Sana’s head turns so fast you hear her earrings jingle. “What?”

“They both said shit. Jungkook got all weirdly defensive and said Seo-Jun needed to back off. I know Seo-Jun was trying to check on me,  but it just… exploded.”

Sana whistles low with a smirk on her lips as she took a sip of her drink. “Damn. Who knew golden boy had claws.”

You shrug, twisting the bottle in your hands. “ I don’t think its that deep.”

She gives you a long, sideways glance. “You sure he doesn’t like you?”

“I don’t know.” You pause. “And even if he did… Honestly, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is temporary. I go back to uni soon. I’m not even from here. I’m not in this world, not really.” You sip from your own drink now. Looking into the city “Also I don’t know if you noticed” you turn to her and whisper “hes like, veryfamous. And Army is scary”

Sana watches you for a second longer before turning her eyes back to the skyline with a ghostly smile playing on her lips.

“You know, sometimes I forget you’re the intern.”

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“No, I mean it. You’re so… calm. Even now, when you’re clearly unraveling.”

You scoff and smile faintly loking back at her. “That’s new. I feel like a mess.”

“I’d trade places with you if I could.”

You glance over. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly, brushing off the comment. “Just thinking out loud.”

You don't press it. You’re too tired. Why would any one want to be in the mess you feel like you are in now?

“Can I ask you something?” Sana says, after a pause.

You nod.

“What do you want from all of this? Like… when your internship ends. What’s next?”

You stare at the lights across the river. “I don’t know.  Definetly go back, finish school. Pretend I didn’t just get blown into the most complicated, confusing  part of my life?”

“That’s… kind of poetic.”

You scoff. “It’s kind of tragic.”

Sana chuckles and leans her head on your shoulder. “Well, until you leave, we’ve got you.”

You lean your head against hers.

And in that moment—warm rooftop lights, distant traffic hum, someone breathing next to you—it almost feels like the world isn’t shifting beneath your feet.

The week moves slowly. Not in hours or things to do, but in atmosphere.

You show up early to the company every day. Focused. Steady. Like nothing happened. Not like Seo-Jun stopped texting. Not like Jimin haven’t been facetiming you every so often to talk about nothing and everything. Sometimes hes just bored and keeps quiet as he scrolls on his phone. Not like Jungkook haven’t gone back to being playfull and sweet around you, and hasn’t scared one of your friends.

You nod politely when Jungkook walks in, headphones slung around his neck, offering his usual grin—easy, sweet, playful. Like nothing happened.

You meet Seo-Jun in the hallway once. He gives a small smile, and you smile back. But he doesn’t stop to talk. Doesn’t walk you to the elevator like he used to. Doesn’t ask if you’ve eaten or wait by your desk with a second coffee just because.

You tell yourself it’s the comeback schedule. Everyone’s busy. You’re lucky if you get more than a few minutes with anyone. Right?

Still… your inbox feels quieter than usual.

“Hey.” A voice tugs you out of your thoughts. You turn and Jimin’s leaning against the wall near the studio entrance, watching you.

You blink. “Hi.”

“You’ve got that face again.”

“What face?”

He crosses his arms and nods thoughtfully. “The ‘Shit, did I turn off my iron off this morning’ face.”

You let out a soft laugh, and that’s all it takes. Jimin steps in, sliding easily into your rhythm like he always does—without pushing. “Don’t say stuff like that. I might actually need to go back home and check”

“I was gonna grab coffee. Want to come?”

You glance at your screen. Nothing urgent. No one waiting. No Seo-Jun anywhere in sight.

You stand. “Sure.”

The walk to the café is easy, breezy conversation—half jokes about the staff, half your quiet comments that make Jimin laugh like you’re funnier than you are.

He holds the door open with a little bow. “After you, Miss Important.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes, “you’re the celebrity.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one we all talk about.”

You snort into your drink. “Right.”

“I’m serious. You keep surprising everyone.”

You glance at him over the lid of your cup. “Why?”

“Because you’re… good. And you stay kind. Even when things are clearly weird.”

You stiffen slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I saw your face last week. After that night.”

Your grip tightens slightly.

“I didn’t say anything because you looked like you didn’t want anyone to,” he adds gently.

You nod, eyes lowering to your cup. “I didn’t.”

“Okay.” He nudges you with his elbow. “I still wanted to check in.”

You look at him. There’s no expectation in his eyes. Just quiet warmth.

“I’m fine,” you murmur.

“Of course,” he says, like he knows you’re lying but won’t make you say it.

You sit there for a moment longer, then finally crack a smile. “You’re really good at this, you know?”

“At what?”

You shrug. “Being normal.”

He grins. “Well, someone’s gotta balance out Jeon.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god.”

“What?” he chuckles. “It’s true. You should see him these days. All bark, no clue.”

You let the silence stretch after that, and Jimin doesn’t rush to fill it. He just sits beside you, letting you breathe.

And for the first time in days, you do.

You don’t expect to see Jimin again that evening. Not after the way the week’s been going—everyone scattered, schedules packed, Seo-Jun ghosting in and out of rooms like an afterthought.

But there he is, waiting outside the elevator when you’re finally heading down to grab something from the vending machine before heading home, hoodie half-zipped, hair still damp from practice.

“Are you stalking me?” you ask, amused.

“Obviously,” he says without missing a beat. “I’m incredibly subtle.”

You raise a brow.

“I was just on my way down too,” he admits, nodding to the elevator. “You don’t own the snack machine, Y/N.”

“Yet.” You point out. 

He grins. “Now that’s the ambition I like to see.”

You both walk side by side under the flickering hallway lights, the building quieter than usual at this hour.

“You’re not sleeping enough,” he says casually, grabbing a juice box from the machine.

“You noticed that from a hallway?”

“No, I noticed that from the fact that you look like someone pressed mute on you.”

You stare at him. Raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, I’ve seen you make five sarcastic comments in under a minute. This new quiet version is weird.”

You grab your drink and sigh. “I’m just tired.”

“From?”

You hesitate. Then as if he managed in the past week to take brick by brick off of you, you say “Everything.”

“Fair.”

He doesn’t pry. Just sits on the bench nearby and gestures for you to join him. You do. A quiet hum of silence stretches between you, but it’s not heavy. It’s… spacious.

You sip your drink and glance over. “Do you ever feel like people expect you to be something even when you’re running on empty?”

“All the time.” He replies not skipping a beat.

“Do you ever fake it?”

He gives a soft laugh. “Every single day.”

You exhale through your nose, and for the first time in a while, it’s not out of frustration. It’s something like relief.

“I think I’ve forgotten how to talk to people,” you admit, quieter now.

“No you haven’t,” he says, resting his head against the wall. “You just don’t want to say the wrong thing. That’s not the same.”

You turn your head toward him squinting in his direction. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I don’t,” he replies, smirking. “I just look like I do.”

You laugh again, and this time, it feels real.

He shifts toward you slightly, and something in the air changes—still light, still safe, but there’s a warmth to it now. A slight tilt.

“You know,” he says thoughtfully, “you really don’t have to be so tough all the time.”

You meet his eyes, a ghost of a smile playing on your expression. “If I’m not, I might break.”

He holds your gaze. “Then break. I’m sure someone will be there to help pick up the pieces.”

You blink, caught off guard by the softness in his voice. You want to say something—anything—but your throat tightens.

So instead, you whisper, “Thanks.”

He bumps his shoulder lightly into yours. “That’s what friends are for.”

There’s a pause. Then he adds, with a shit-eating grin and  eyes sparkling, “Though, just for the record… I look great holding broken pieces.”

You burst out laughing again, loud enough to echo down the hallway. Pushing him with your hands.

And for a moment, it’s enough.

Jimin’s is back on the schedule of always being there.

Not in a clingy, all-consuming way. Just… there. When you walk into the practice floor with coffee. When you’re buried in edits in the conference room. When you’re catching your breath after yet another rushed lunch.

It starts to feel like muscle memory—turning your head and finding him there, eyes crinkling, teasing something out of you without even trying.

“You’re starting to show favoritism,” you tease one afternoon as he hands you a drink without asking. The exact one you’ve been craving.

He shrugs, leaning on the counter beside you. “I’m not showing favoritism. You’re just easier to deal with when you’re caffeinated.”

You roll your eyes but sip gratefully anyway.

He watches you for a second. “Better?”

“Not terrible.”

“High praise.” The corner of his lips twitch up.

You two fall into an easy rhythm, the kind that doesn’t demand anything too intense, but still feels sincere. Jimin flirts—because of course he does—but it’s always with a nudge of humor, a twinkle in his eye, and never too close to a line.

You like that. You need that. Someone who sees the weight on your shoulders but doesn’t force you to unpack it. Someone who meets you where you are, without pushing.

And somehow, he gets that. Every time.

One late afternoon, you’re both hiding out in a corner of the building, away from the chaos. You’re lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and he’s sitting beside you, cross-legged, spinning his phone on his palm.

“You know,” he says casually, “I like that you don’t try so hard.”

You glance at him. “Thanks…?”

“No, I mean it.” He lies back too, arms folded behind his head. “People either try to impress us or avoid us. You kind of just exist.”

“I think that’s supposed to be an insult.” You look at him with a look of slight disbelief.

He grins. “It’s not. I like that you’re not fake.”

You stretch your legs out. “Yeah well, faking things takes too much energy.”

He hums in agreement. “You’re funny.”

“You’re soft.”

He gasps. “I am not.”

“You gave me a cookie earlier and said it was because I ‘looked like I needed love.’”

“I was being practical.”

You laugh, eyes fluttering closed for a second.

Safe. That’s what this feels like..

Just… safe.

Later, in the practice room, the rest of the boys filter in slowly. Jungkook’s the last to arrive. Hoodie up, hair slightly damp, headphones hanging from his neck. His usual outfit.

You’re sitting beside Jimin, working on your laptop while he watches something on his phone and casually throws in commentary like you’re both watching it together.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything when he walks in. But you feel it—his eyes on the two of you for a beat too long.

You glance up just in time to see him drop onto the couch across the room, pulling out his phone immediately.

He starts typing. And doesn’t stop.

Hoseok notices first. “What’s up with you, Jungkook? You’ve been texting all day.”

Jungkook glances up, casual. That smug smile on his face “Huh? Just stuff.”

“Stuff?” Taehyung leans over to peek. “Are you in love or something?”

Jungkook laughs but doesn’t deny it. “I’m allowed to text.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon adds, “but you hate texting.”

Jimin looks up at that, interest piqued. His eyes flick from Jungkook to you. You don’t react, just keep working. Jimin leans over and whispers, “Told you he’s sus lately.”

You snort. “He’s probably playing a game.”

Jimin nods dramatically. “A dangerous one.”

Jungkook looks up briefly—only at Jimin—but his gaze shifts just for a second toward you. Then he looks back down and resumes typing.

It’s late.

The lights outside the building cast long golden strips against the windows. Most people have already gone home. Afterall who wants to stay at their workplace on a Friday night? You and Jimin are still in the corner of the break room, the remnants of takeout boxes between you and the hum of the vending machine the only sound for a while.

You didn’t mean to stay this long. But you’re here. And so is he.

Jimin’s leaning on one elbow, swirling the straw of his soda with absent focus. “You’re quiet tonight,” he says without looking at you.

“I’m tired.”

“You say that even when you’re not.”

That makes you glance up. He’s not teasing this time. His voice is soft. Matter-of-fact. Still gentle.

And that’s all it takes.

You lean back in your chair and exhale slowly, as if the breath had been waiting days to be let out.

“It’s weird,” you say after a long pause. “Being here.”

Jimin shifts slightly, listening.

“I like it so much. All of this. The work, the people… even the chaos.” You let out a quiet laugh. “Sometimes I catch myself just… smiling in the elevator. Like an idiot.”

His lips lift, just slightly.

“But I’m not supposed to stay,” you continue, eyes fixed on a smudge on the table. “This was always temporary. My internship ends in a few months, and then I have to go back and finish Uni. Write my thesis. Take the last of my exams. Do all the normal stuff that is paused.”

You finally look at him. “It doesn’t leave room to even think about staying. You know? Even if I wanted to.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just watches you carefully. Then: “You don’t talk about your life before this much.”

“No one here really asks.”

“I’m asking now.”

You hesitate. Then something in his expression—completely open, unhurried—unravels something you’ve kept stitched tight.

So you start to talk.

About how before Korea, you felt stuck. How you were so excited for the internship even though you were taking the place of your friend, so ready to grow and take a risk. But that not everyone saw it that way.

You talk about Evi. “She was supposed to come. She’s my best friend—still is. But something came up last minute, and she asked me to take the opportunity instead.”

“And your friends?” Jimin asks gently.

You hesitate, then laugh without humor. “They kind of... scattered. Some just drifted. But a lot of it was after my breakup.”

He raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t interrupt. Letting you continue your story on your time. Even if you wanted to stop right there you know he wouldn’t push.

“We were together for years. I thought—” you stop with a scoff, then continue more quietly. “He said he couldn’t do long-distance. That I was choosing this over him.”

Jimin’s voice is low. “That’s not fair.”

“No. But maybe it was just honest.”

You’re surprised you’re even saying any of this. That it’s spilling out like this. You look away, toward the vending machine’s glow. “I just didn’t expect to feel this right here. I thought I’d just... do the job, learn what I could, go home, figure it out with him and have my life back. Maybe get a friend or two back”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak right away. But when you look at him again, there’s something in his expression that feels like comfort without pity.

“You know what I think?” he says after a moment.

You raise an eyebrow.

“I think you deserve to feel like you belong somewhere. Even if it’s not forever. Even if it hurts when it’s over.”

Your chest tightens.

“You’re not weird for liking it here,” he adds, a little softer. “You’re just human.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”

He bumps your knee under the table. “Anytime.”

And for the first time in a long while, the silence that follows isn’t heavy.

It feels like space.

Like safety.

You wake up later than usual. No alarm. No schedule.

Just stillness.

The kind that creeps in when the world isn’t expecting you anywhere, and for once, you don’t feel guilty about it.

Sunlight pours through your curtains, catching the particles in the air like glitter. You blink slowly, turn your head on the pillow, and reach for your phone—not out of urgency, but habit. Not at all expecting a text that you know deep down would never come.

 But there’s a text from Jimin.

[Jimin 10:17 AM]:  You awake, sleeping beauty?

You smile.

[You 10:18 AM]: Barely.

[Jimin 10:19 AM]:  That’s progress. Want to meet later? We could get coffee. Or ramen. Or cake. Or all three.

[You 10:20 AM]: Tempting. Let me see how I feel after I pretend I’m a functioning adult for an hour.

You drop the phone on your chest and stare at the ceiling, still smiling faintly.

There’s something strange about how good that feels. A message. A check-in. The easy, steady presence of someone who isn’t trying to fix you—just letting you be.

You think about the other night. How you’d told Jimin things you hadn’t even told Evi. How he’d looked at you like you weren’t hard to understand. Like your sadness wasn’t inconvenient. You knew she would never do any of that. But sometimes she had a habit of blowing things a bit out of proportion.

You sit up slowly and start moving around the apartment—put on music, open the windows, wash your face with cold water that shocks your nerves awake. You don’t feel happy, exactly. But you feel okay.

And these days, okay feels like a win.

You tell Jimin you’re in. He sends back a dancing bear sticker and a voice note that makes you laugh because it’s just him humming aggressively off-key to some old ballad he probably heard in a random video online.

You meet at a small café tucked into a quieter side of the city. No crowds. Just the two of you in oversized hoodies, both wearing sunglasses like you’re famous and mildly hungover.

He makes you laugh. Constantly. You talk about nonsense—cereal brands, your irrational fear of jellyfish, his totally rational fear of ghosts. “You always eat so fast,” you say through a mouthful, watching him finish his sandwich in record time.

“I was a growing boy,” he shrugs. “Still am.”

You laugh, flicking a crumb off his jacket. “Sure, Jimin.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second, then nudges your foot with his. “You’ve been less... storm cloud-y this week.”

You pause mid-bite. “Storm cloud-y?”

He grins. “Yeah. You usually walk around like you’ve just remembered an embarrassing moment from 8 years ago.”

“I have.”

“That’s fair.” He laughs leaning back on his chair.

“You  just… you looked lighter today.”

You tilt your head. “Lighter?”

“Yeah. Like something’s changed. In a good way.”

You look down at your coffee. Then back at him. “Maybe it has.”

That night, you get home early. The city’s quieter on weekends in your part of town. You’re brushing your hair out when your phone buzzes again.

[Jimin 7:42 PM]:  I meant it, by the way.

[You 7:43 PM]: Meant what?

[Jimin 7:44 PM]:  That you deserve to feel like you belong. You’re good at what you do. But more than that—you’re a good person.

[Jimin 7:44 PM]:  And I’m glad you’re here.

Your chest squeezes unexpectedly.

You stare at the screen for a long moment, thumbs hovering.

You don’t know what to say.

But you type anyway.

[You 7:47 PM]: I’m glad I’m here too.

You hit send. Then turn your phone over, heart a little louder than before.

You declare it before your feet even touch the floor: today, you will take no more than 100 steps. Maximum. It’s a vow, whispered into the quiet of your bedroom like a sacred promise between you and the corners of your house.

Your limbs feel like noodles—soft, limp, and unwilling to engage with the outside world. You stretch, yawn, and flop back onto the mattress, tugging the blanket up to your chin like a barrier against anything productive. Sunlight is peeking through the blinds in lazy slants, catching dust motes that dance in the quiet. You blink slowly. There's no rush.

No alarms. No texts. No notifications. Bliss.

You reach for your phone out of habit and check. Maybe Jimin sent something that will have you going against your promisse in the next 15 minutes.

But…nothing from Jimin.

Odd.

Normally, he sends a meme. A dumb selfie. A random message like “Do bees have knees?” or “You think rabbits ever get tired of hopping?”

But today, your screen is quiet.

You tell yourself not to overthink it. Maybe he’s taking a real day off too. God knows he needs one more than you do. You picture him somewhere in his apartment, wrapped in a blanket burrito with his hair all fluffed out, scrolling endlessly through TikTok while sipping something way too sugary.

You smile at the thought.

The first half of the day passes exactly how you planned. You eat something microwavable, shuffle around the apartment with socks so fuzzy they could double as small animals, and stare at your ceiling more than any emotionally stable person probably should.

You do yoga. Not actual yoga, but the kind where you lie flat on the floor and call it “restorative.” You even light a candle and feel proud of yourself for not burning anything down.

By the time 9 PM rolls around, you’re about 78 steps into your 100-step limit. Victory��is in sight.

Then your phone rings.

Evi.

You smile and answer immediately. “Hey. Don’t you have a hot social life to be living right now?”

“You know I’m a grandma after 7 PM,” she shoots back, voice crackling with laughter. “Besides, I needed to hear a familiar voice.”

You melt a little. You missed her. You always do.

“I’m honored,” you say, settling deeper into the couch. “But if this call needs any sort of effort, I’m hanging up.”

“Understood. Minimal movement. Maximum gossip.”

What was meant to be a quick check-in turns into a four-hour marathon.

You talk about work. About Seoul. About the café that put pickles in your grilled cheese and how traumatized you still are. Evi tells you about a guy who tried to flirt with her using a PowerPoint presentation on why they’d make a good couple.

You snort so loudly you scare yourself. “Please tell me he included transition effects.”

“He had star wipes,” she says solemnly.

“Oh God.”

It’s easy. It’s comforting. You forget the time.

Until Evi gasps so loudly you think something’s exploded.

“Oh my god, did you see what’s trending?!”

Your brain scrambles. “What? No. I’ve been horizontal all day.”

She’s already typing. “I’m sending it. Check Twitter. Now. Now.”

“Why are you being dramatic?”

“I’m not. This is a cultural event. Look.”

A notification pops up. One link. No caption.

You tap it.

It takes a second to load. Then—

Your stomach flips.

There’s a photo, blurry but unmistakable. It looks like it was taken from a distance, probably by a phone hidden behind a plant or something equally stalkerish. The lighting is dim, but the person in the picture is clear as day.

Jungkook.

Even with his back turned, you’d recognize that frame anywhere. The black cap pulled low. The shoulders. The way his hands are tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

But that’s not what makes your heart lurch.

It’s the girl beside him.

She’s leaning in, her hand lightly brushing his arm. Her face is half-turned toward him, lips curved in a way that feels too familiar. Too… intimate.

Ji-a.

Your breath catches.

Your throat goes dry.

You don’t realize you’ve gone silent until Evi speaks again, voice cautious.

“You saw it?”

You swallow. “Yeah.”

“Is that—?”

“Jungkook.” You don’t even try to soften it.

There’s a long pause.

Evi doesn’t have to ask why you sound like that. She already knows. You told her about Ji-a in one of your late-night rambles. You said her name the way people say ghost stories—quietly, like saying it too loudly might summon her.

Evi inhales. “It could be nothing.”

You nod even though she can’t see you. “Yeah.”

“He’s not facing the camera. I don’t even know its him”

“It’s him.”

You don’t know how you know. You just do. It’s the way he’s standing. The slope of his shoulders. That slight inward tilt of his head when he’s listening to someone speak. You’ve seen it in real life now. Once. Twice.

Enough times for it to be burned into your brain.

Evi sighs. “I hate that people sneak photos like this.”

“Yeah.”

“And post them like they’re prizes. Like human beings are trophies to be dissected online.”

You nod again, lips pressed tightly together.

You know she’s right.

But still.

Something twists in your stomach. Jealousy? No. You don’t have the right to feel jealous. Hurt, maybe. Disappointed. Or just… embarrassed. You remember the way Jungkook looked at you Friday. Like he saw you. Like he remembered everything.

Like it mattered.

But maybe it didn’t.

Maybe it was just a moment. And this is real.

Your chest tightens.

“This is going to be a shit show. Thank God you are not in PR, bestie” She adds trying to lighten the mood.

You say goodnight soon after. Evi offers to stay on the phone longer, but you politely decline.

When the call ends, silence floods your apartment like rising water.

You stare at the photo again.

You wish you hadn’t.

The comments are worse. Speculations. Ship names. Theories. Some fans defending him, others demanding explanations. And some people—because the internet is the internet—talking about how perfect Ji-a is.

You put your phone face down.

You’re at step 96 now. You know because you count the four steps it takes you to crawl into bed and cocoon yourself in blankets. You stare at the ceiling.

What did you expect?

Jungkook is… Jungkook. He’s allowed to date. Allowed to be seen with whoever he wants.

You just didn’t expect it to sting this much.

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 5 - CHAPTER 7

[fentyjjk]

pairing namjoon x fem reader x jungkook

synopsis in an attempt to finally ask your fuck buddy to be your boyfriend, you take him camping, your plans are soiled when he brings along his friend, jungkook.

warnings y/n is the bigggggggest simp for namjoon, accidental blow jobs, outdoor sex, plot twist (no spoilers!), pwp if you squint, drinking, black oc headcanon, somnophilia, overuse of italicization, JOONS MF ARMS, jungkook with rings <3, prior context so we not confused joon did what y/n is doing now before (ofc in a different setting) so this is an unspoken boundary that they have explored prior (it’ll make sense when you read it !)

read me outdoor sex, that’s it.

In theory this was a good idea, sacrificing your comfort for the devastatingly beautiful Kim Namjoon who showed a hint of interest in you was worth it.

With one minor hiccup.

Namjoon had invited others, his friends, to what was supposed to be your third date. Namjoon liked nature, he was one of those people that loved the beauty of the outdoors and its grounding qualities, so you had the perfect plan: camping! You were raised in the fast paced city of Seoul, never stepping foot in the countryside, but for him, Namjoon, you planned an entire weekend trip to a camping resort you’d heard about from a friend of a friend. It would have been the perfect place to ask him to be your boyfriend…if he hadn’t invited his friends.

You try your best to keep your facial expression in check despite the utter disappointment you feel that they’ll be joining you, it’s hard, but you manage a smile. Namjoon introduces you to only two other people; Jungkook who's a year younger than you guys and only recently transferred to SU and Stacey. In any other circumstance you’d be happy to meet the people closest to Namjoon, Jungkook seems nice enough and Stacey is a foreigner, she's not black like you, but you could probably relate to each other in terms of experiences in Korea.

And yet you can’t see the joy in them being here.

You take the opportunity to softly break the news to Namjoon and question as to why they’re there when they begin to lug their equipment to your reserved camping lot. You stand beside Namjoon who is busy unpacking the trunk, looking back to make sure they’re out of ear range before you bring it up.

“So… you brought your friends?” Namjoon hums, carefully placing both of your tent wraps on the leaf filled ground. The weather is perfect for camping. Winter had winded down a little over a month ago and the warm temperature and beauty of spring was great for camping.

…And out door fucking if Namjoon was down for that.

You twist your lips to the side, “I wish you would’ve told me, I would’ve brought my friends as well.” You lie, it’s better to lie than be embarrassed that he didn’t know this was a date… right?

“You still can! Just call them, the park's last minute reservations close in an hour,” Namjoon informs you, swinging both your backpacks onto his ridiculously buff arms courtesy of his military service. “I didn’t know you wanted to bring your friends that bad,” Namjoon gives you a look of uncertainty, “I thought this was a double date.” No you didn’t want to bring your friends, that was a lie what does he think y—wait.

Come again?

Namjoon chuckles when you pause in your tracks, your lips parting in surprise, “Well.. don’t look so shocked,” he teases that dimple you love oh so much making an appearance on his cheek. “I'm not that clueless, Y/n.” You shake yourself out of your initial shock swallowing.

“I just—oh my god, Joon, I was so upset!” You exasperate, lightly hitting his arm.

“I know I could tell, you’re so easy to read.” He chuckles again continuing your walk after nudging your arm, “I’m sorry for not asking beforehand, Kook just met Stacey and wanted to take her out somewhere inexpensive. You know college is expensive as hell and all that stuff,” Oh you understand, “plus this place is notorious for wildlife sightings. It's better to have a group to push down and make a run for it than just us you know?” You gawk at him and he laughs lightly nudging your arm again, “kidding! I’m kidding.”

By the time you two reach the patch of land designated for your camping—or glamping as you like to call it despite Namjoon correcting you—Jungkook is halfway done setting up his tent, the little plot of land next to him is cleared out the words ‘TENT PLACEMENT #2’ written out in the dirt with white spray paint on the left. Ah, so direct.

Stacey takes it upon herself to get to know you a little better informing you that she’s not just white, but half Asian and she’s been living in Korea for quite some time, you nod along to what she says barely giving any responses as your eyes focus on Namjoon’s hands and arms while he sets up your tent with ease, he didn’t even ask for help…

So ridiculously hot.

Jungkook prepares the small dining area behind you guys, setting up small lanterns around the makeshift kitchen he’s made, he briefly explains to all of you to turn them on when its dark as they’ll kill any bugs that venture into your lot.

And Namjoon had the audacity to say it wasn’t glamping.

Night came fairly quickly, the mountains in the far distance shrouded in darkness standing tall and intimidating from your spot by the fire. Despite it being Spring the nights lingered with Seoul’s winter breeze and of course you needed to fit the camping experience and set up a fire—well Jungkook and Namjoon did all the heavy lifting collecting the wooded pieces and assorting them to perfection.

And if you thought Namjoon was hot before nothing compared to watching him easily handle five logs onto his shoulders and set them down without as much as a groan.

His arms will be the death of you.

Jungkook, Namjoon’s friend, noticed you shivering and offered you a blanket while Namjoon added the finishing touches to the fire you took the heavy material with a smile missing the distasteful look Stacey sent you.

“How long have you and Joon been together?” She asks as you wrap yourself in the thick wool blanket.

You look back at Namjoon to make sure he’s engrossed in helping Jungkook cook the food before you lean towards her whispering, “We’re not together yet! I’m going to ask him to be my boyfriend later on, probably tomorrow to be honest.” She licks her lips humming.

“You must really like him, huh?” Your brows furrow at the tone she takes on, but nod nonetheless because of your course you like Joon you wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping in the woods if you didn’t. “Just be careful alright? I’ve heard some things about him in relationships, just watch out.” You would ask her what she’s heard but you hear a very clear and loud: ‘Dinner!’ Ending your conversation.

By the campfire you enjoyed surprisingly good sandwiches and half watered down beers Stacey’s prior warning fading into the back of your mind the more beers you downed. Jungkook took it upon himself to indulge you in all the hilarious mishaps of their childhood together while Namjoon blushed furiously (cutely) Stacey seemed to only get more touchy and flirtatious as she drank more beers leading Jungkook to take her to the tent so she can sleep off whatever lingering horniness she was feeling.

When he returns Namjoon offers him another beer but he refuses, “I need to be able to drive into town in the morning, I forgot my sunscreen.” You perk up reaching into your bag.

“Here you can use some of mine…it is scented though if you have a problem with that—“

He’s quick to cut you off shaking his head, “No, no, thank you.” You hand him the small bottle catching sight of the rings lining his fingers.

“Those are sick,” You compliment him, he looks down at his hand smiling proudly, he wiggles his fingers.

He shows you his other hand which is also covered in slightly less rings than the other, “Thanks, I got them from a friend's shop, she has some on sale right now, you want the info?” He asks followed by a small yawn.

“Sure in the morning though, you look ready to pass out.” Jungkook stifles a chuckle.

“Stacey is not easy to put to sleep while she’s drunk.” Namjoon laughs at that.

“Oh yeah we know.” Your face grows hot as you recall her very loud ’no I don’t want to go to sleep, why won’t you fuck me?’ ‘Kooooookie, I’m horny.’ oh and who could forget: ’just the tip? Please pleaseee?’ If that’s what she’s like drunk you can’t imagine what she was like sober and horny. You don’t blame her though you were a few beers deep and desperate to get back to your tent, but first to spare you and Namjoon the embarrassment of having his childhood friend hear you two go at it, you want him to get well into a deep sleep before that happens.

“Alright I’ll catch you guys in the morning.” You say your goodbyes to Jungkook watching him disappear into his tent enclosure.

Huh, they look kinda similar in the dark, you think looking between your tents.

“You ready to turn it in?” Namjoon questions, as the fire begins to die down.

“In a minute I’ll be in, wait up for me?” He hums kissing your cheek before he leaves your little fire set up for your shared tent. Once the zipper comes down you take a minute to take it all in, you actually find yourself enjoying the outdoors; it differs from Seoul, quiet, but loud in its own naturistic way. You also used the time to adjust yourself making sure your bra looks good under your shirt and spray a tiny bit more perfume on yourself.

You ventured out to the small bathroom station that was a short walk from your campsite filling a bottle with water to completely put out the fire. The door creaked open giving you half a heart attack before you fully got a good look at the figure looming in the doorway, Stacey.

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me.” You sighed, rubbing your chest to calm your rapid heart beat.

“Sorry gotta take a piss, and maybe vomit.” She choked holding her mouth, you capped your bottle of water leaving Stacey alone in the bathroom. On your way back to your campsite you wondered if you should have helped her back to the tents, but reckon that if she could get there while shitfaced she can make it back.

After putting out the fire you pushed your boobs up over your shirt exposing an unnecessary amount of cleavage, checking your appearance on your phone to make sure your attempt at seduction wasn’t too obvious. You close out of your camera app smiling at the drying wood, you were more than ready to enjoy a semi private hook up with Joon and then a good night's rest with lots and lots of cuddling.

With a small dilemma.

Earlier when you thought the two tents looked similar you weren’t kidding and right now they look almost identical. If you were slightly more buzzed you would have gone for the left tent, but that’s Jungkook and Stacey’s and yours is on the right. You slowly unzip the tent hearing Namjoon’s light breaths, you always thought he'd be a snorer because of his large build, but no, only light comforting breaths.

Crawling, you hit your head on the lamp hanging from the tent ceiling, but you don’t turn it on wanting it to be dark. You don’t want to wake up Namjoon.

What guy doesn’t like being woken up with a blowjob? Plus you owe him for waking you up in a similar fashion a few weeks back.

You briefly turn around to zip up the tent, the darkness fully encompassing your surroundings, you barely see Namjoon’s face and squinting doesn’t help, but nevermind that you need to get to work. Slowly, you lift the cover, the same one from earlier that Jungkook gave you. He must’ve offered it to Namjoon, you make a mental note to thank him in the morning since it is quite cold.

Once fully settled underneath the blanket you feel up his legs, he switched his shorts for sweats and unfortunately for you when you reach upwards your fingers brush over a tied knot, “Son of a bitch,” you mumble, why’d he tie them? Gently you sit back on his calves, still under the cover of the blanket you delicately unravel it pausing when you feel him shift, but he doesn’t move much, your ass is on his leg’s keeping him in place. When you deem him unaware (when you get impatient) you get back into position leaning forward your ass high in the air, you only lower his sweats enough to free his cock, huh no boxers. Namjoon’s never gone commando before to your knowledge. After every hookup he at least fell asleep in boxers, but maybe he was too tipsy to remember to put some on, you brush it off for now licking your hand, it’ll make things easier.

He’s soft when you take him into your slick hand twitching when you grip him properly, still asleep though. Your stomach coils with heat and want when you hear a low confused groan and then another when you open wide stretching your mouth around his length. You go slow at first, you have to, maybe it’s because you're buzzed but he feels thicker.

“Wha…” You bob your head faster as he begins to fully wake up, “fuck,” he rasps egging you on, leaning down you take more of him into your mouth and partially down your throat, his groans grow louder in volume breaking off into lower throaty moans, his hand reaches under the blanket fisting your curls, something hard akin to metal scrapes your head, but the pain meshed with the heat growing in your stomach makes you moan, which makes him moan. “God, fuck, fuck,” He guides your head up and down the grip on your hair tightening when you trail your tongue over a vein running under his cock. You shift on your knees rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure between them because this is turning you on way more than it should.

“Fuck, Stace, I’m gonna come.” Everything freezes, or maybe you just freeze up because he—Jungkook is breathlessly asking, “Shit, baby why’d you stop?” You remove your hand first, your mind blank, but it’s not it’s loud, so fucking loud because this can not be happening. You sit up slowly, the taste of him weighing heavy on your tongue, the blanket falls with your movement, the darkness giving you a momentary shield, but it doesn't last.

“I-I didn’t know,” You choke out your eyes teary, in the darkness you can make out Jungkook sitting up and reaching forward clicking on that God-awful light. He squints when the light floods his eyesight, but when it registers, what just happened and who you are his eyes double in size looking you over once, twice just to confirm that you, Namjoon’s…girlfriend? Gave him head just now. His panicked expression only makes you ramble more, your tears actually spilling over as you try to explain, defend yourself. “I-it’s so d-dark I couldn’t tell, I-I thought this was our tent! I-I just — I’m drunk, I-I couldn’t t-tell, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You sob through your explanation as Jungkook pulls the blanket over his crotch to cover his still hard cock. It might have gotten harder because of you crying, but you don’t need to know that information. “I was-wasn’t trying to assault you or anything-oh m-my God I’m an awful p-person—“

Jungkook reaches over to comfort you, but you flinch so instead of touching you his hand hangs awkwardly in the space between you, he puts his hand down sighing, “It’s okay, okay? Breathe.” You take some much need deep breaths, surprised by Jungkook’s calm demeanor especially because of your current situation. He does actually touch you this time rubbing your forearm. “I’m not upset, okay?” You nod wiping your tears, “Joon can never know.” Your eyes meet his, your brows furrowed, you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it, “He won’t understand like I do, he’d never be able to see you the same.” The admission puts you back on the brink of hyperventilation, but Jungkook’s gesturing you out of the tent. “Go, I don’t know when Stacey is coming back, I don’t want to fuck things up with her.” God, how could you have forget about her?

“Okay, I-I really am sorry, Jungkook.” Jungkook lets out a heavy breath, nodding.

“I know.” He asserts, glancing back you catch a small reassuring smile on his lips, “Goodnight.” You don’t say it back, quickly leaving the tent.

Jungkook lays back onto the blankets, lightly biting into his forearm as ropes of cum spurts from his twitching cock, smearing his abdomen and the blanket.

Jesus fucking Christ.

read me i feeeeel like i could add more to this but idk what… yk? so for now it’s a one shot ❕ also my cover image wouldn’t come out right so for now there’s no cover

[linnitheo]

Chasing Stars

The city lights blurred past as I leaned against the tinted window of the car, my heartbeat racing in time with the thrum of the engine. Tonight was supposed to be a low-key date, just Jungkook and me sneaking away from the chaos of our lives as idols. But things never seemed to go as planned when it came to us.

“We’ve got a problem,” Jungkook muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror. His voice was calm, but I could sense the tension in his words. I turned my head, catching a glimpse of the paparazzi’s headlights flashing like unwanted fireworks behind us. They were relentless, as usual.

“Of course we do,” I sighed, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling up. “We can’t catch a break, can we?”

Jungkook flashed me that trademark smirk, the one that made my knees weak even in the most stressful moments. “Wouldn’t be as fun if it was easy, right?” His hand found mine, fingers interlocking as if to remind me that we were in this together, no matter how many cameras tried to invade our little world.

I squeezed his hand back, feeling the warmth and strength that always calmed my nerves. “What’s the plan, genius?”

He glanced at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hold on tight.”

Without another word, he made a sharp turn, the car swerving into a narrow alleyway that seemed to barely fit us. The paparazzi behind us hesitated, unsure if they could make the turn. Jungkook floored the gas, and we sped through the alley, the walls on either side a blur of graffiti and shadows.

“Seriously, do you have to make everything feel like a car chase in an action movie?” I laughed, the adrenaline making my voice pitch higher than usual.

Jungkook grinned, his eyes never leaving the road. “You love it. Besides, this is the only way we get any alone time.”

He wasn’t wrong. Between our hectic schedules, public scrutiny, and the constant pressure of being in the spotlight, moments like this were rare treasures. A secret rendezvous that felt like a rebellion against the rules of fame. And in these stolen moments, he wasn’t Jungkook of BTS, and I wasn’t a celebrity. We were just two people crazy about each other.

We finally lost the paparazzi, pulling into the underground garage of a luxury hotel where we had a private suite booked under a fake name. Jungkook parked the car, and for a second, we just sat there, catching our breath and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I think we deserve a medal for that,” I said, still half-laughing, half-breathless.

He leaned over, his face inches from mine, eyes dark and intense. “How about I just kiss you instead?”

Before I could respond, his lips were on mine, and every thought about the chase, the cameras, and the chaos faded away. It was just us, wrapped up in a kiss that felt like coming home. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer, and I could feel the smile on his lips as our kiss deepened.

“I missed this,” I whispered against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair. “I missed you.”

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against mine. “I missed you too. Every second.”

We stayed like that for a moment, just breathing each other in, savoring the peace that only came when we were together. Eventually, we pulled away and made our way up to the suite, keeping our heads low just in case. The suite was perfect—dim lighting, soft music playing, and an impressive view of the city skyline that shimmered against the night.

Jungkook walked over to the window, gazing out at the city below. “You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we didn’t have to hide.”

I moved to stand beside him, our shoulders brushing. “It would be easier, that’s for sure. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t be as exciting.”

He turned to face me, his expression thoughtful yet teasing. “You think sneaking around with me is exciting, huh?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my heart was doing somersaults. “Let’s just say it keeps things interesting.”

Jungkook’s laugh was low and rich, sending a shiver down my spine. “Well, I’m glad I can keep you entertained,” he murmured, his hand finding its way to my cheek. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine. “Let’s make tonight count, then.”

And we did. For a few precious hours, we were free. We danced in the suite like no one was watching, shared stolen kisses, and whispered secrets under the soft glow of the city lights. We laughed until our sides hurt, teased each other about everything and nothing, and reveled in the simple joy of being together without the world watching.

As the night wore on, we ended up tangled on the couch, Jungkook’s arm around my shoulders and my head resting against his chest. The world outside continued to buzz and spin, but here, in this little bubble of stolen time, everything felt perfect.

“I don’t care how many times we have to run,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “As long as I’m with you, it’s worth it.”

I smiled, snuggling closer. “Yeah,” I agreed, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. “It’s always worth it.”

And in that moment, I knew he was right. Because no matter how many twists and turns life threw at us, as long as we were together, we could face anything.

[pjmsneverland]

Said Dearest

Warnings: minors dni (mention of drugs, high!jk, Jiminxreader (they’re dating), taekook, fluff, drugdealer!Tae (if I missed anything let me know). Wc: 4.1k

The weather is rainy and cold. The time changes, shifting your biological clock while you drag through work, school, and your social life; too busy to even acknowledge your birthday creeping up on you. It feels like you are carrying a weight on your shoulders each morning; a guilt you couldn’t shake even if it wasn’t yours to keep. Your boyfriend is not sparing you the festivities as he’s mentioning your special day at every possible moment which was nice. The last time your birthday had been this exciting was when you were turning thirteen.

“You okay?” Jimin would ask while holding you in his arms while a movie played on the screen.

“Yeah, just tired is all.” You sigh.

He leaves it there not wanting to prod or ruin the moment of peace, memorizing his plans for the following day when he calls Jungkook while he goes over the guest list for your surprise party.

“Hello?”

“Clear your schedule, we are planning a party for Y/n.”

The younger boy looks away from his computer screen, taking the phone off of speaker to press it to his ear with a stoned face.

“Does she know?”

“Now where’s the fun in that? Are you gonna help me be a good boyfriend or not?”

Sure he knew you two went out on a date last he heard but he was not aware of how far well you two were getting along and hearing it from him causes a pang of betrayal to surface in his chest. He pushes it aside remembering that his friend is on the line waiting for an answer.

He clears his throat “Totally. What’s the plan?”

-

You trudge up the stairs exhausted from the long day at work but you keep in your mind that the weekend is here for comfort.

Your phone is squished in the pocket of your purse knowing that looking at the screen will send you into a spiral; even with your birthday near you felt not an ounce of strength in you to acknowledge it nevermind celebrate it.

Pushing the key into your lock you push the door open and shut the door before laying on the floor of your apartment feeling exhaustion take over your whole body. Letting your mind wander, you think about Jungkook and the last encounter you had with him a month ago. You imagine he’s planning a party tonight with the week end rolling in and all or maybe he’s planning on saving himself the cleanup and visiting a club to blackout in instead.

Your eyes shut as you groan at the feeling of a resurfacing headache as you attempt to coax yourself to relax and rid the thought from your psyche. Vibrations from your phone have you perking up to rummage through your bag to lazily tap the green button without looking at the name.

“Hello.”

“Hey beautiful.”

Your mood smoothes over immediately at the sound of Jimin’s voice coming through the speakers as you prop yourself up so you’re able to sound like you weren’t on the verge of passing out on your apartment floor.

“Hey.”

“Can you get pretty for me in say thirty minutes?”

Your head tilts in confusion.

“What are you planning, Park?” You stand up from your previous spot on the floor and trail over to your boudoir.

He laughs in response to your suspicious tone.

“I left you something in your closet a few days ago so put that on and I’ll be by to pick you up when you’re done. How’s that sound?”

Unable to deny the man’s charms, you agree with a slow nod as you begin to strip yourself of clothing before realizing he can’t see you.

“Yeah. See you when you get here, honey.”

It takes you half an hour to shower and slip on the dress he left for you in the closet but you figure he’ll take his sweet time coming up the elevator to come get you as you spray at your hair and apply another layer of lip gloss not before spritzing a perfume Jimin gifted you a few weeks ago. He felt like a dream or a scene out of a movie. He seemed like he really did like you aside from the parts of you that every other boy wanted to indulge in and disappear. He was one of the only men you could truly be yourself in front of without the need of trying to hide the ugly parts of yourself like how you self-isolated to punish yourself for something you did wrong in your week or in that one month of last year. It was only ever like that with Jungkook. Pausing in your action of fixing your stockings you look up into the mirror with wide eyes at the thought of him and just then the door of your apartment clicks open. Taps of Jimin’s heeled dress shoes letting his presence be known.

He stands at your bedroom door and smiles at you as you step into your heels. Eyes still on you as he remains wordless in his observing of your form.

“Is it what you imagined?”

His brow raises.

“You’re more than anything I could’ve ever imagined darling.” He steps closer to you to rest his hand on your cheek as your heart soars in your chest and you fight to act unphased. It’s not fair that you like someone this much and you haven’t worked hard enough for someone to treat you this well.

“I meant the dress sweetie.” You tease, looking up into his eyes while laughing.

To deflect from your victory he goes in for a kiss that you accept. His touches are always so sweet with no traces of malice. He made loving you look like it wasn’t hard.

“You ready?” He asks slowly when he pulls away.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

He shakes his head mischievously before taking you by the hand and walking you out of your apartment down to the car and opening the passengers door for you. It’s silent most of the car ride but his hand that is not busy steering the wheel lays on your thigh caressing the stocking clad skin gingerly as your excitement heightens at what he has planned for the night.

After what feels like ages he turns into a parking garage and makes turns until he reaches the top floor.

“Jimin, are you secretly planning to murder me?”

He chuckles as he backs into a parking slot.

“Now I should be asking you that.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans in to land a quick peck on your lips, giving you butterflies as you giggle wordlessly.

“Me? I’m harmless.”

He shakes his head, reaching into his back pocket to pull out what looks to be black silk cloth.

“Turn around.”

You obey his command, turning so he can tie a firm knot as he blindfolds you.

“There.” He says in accomplishment before you hear him step out of the car and run around to your side and take your hands to help you up. He shuts the car door behind you and you feel his hands hold onto your waist gently as he instructs you to step forward.

“What if I hit into something?” You panic.

“I’ve got you baby.” Jimin says, comforting you by caressing your waist as you get more comfortable to take bigger steps.

“Almost there babe, you’re doing good.” You take a few more steps forward, heels clacking with each step and your tummy flips in anticipation at what your beautiful boyfriend has planned for you.

“Okay beautiful. Stop right here.”

You come to a halt as you feel the silk material loosen from your eyes and it drops to show beautiful fairy lights hung to lay above the table as well as all your friends that shout a “Surprise!”

“Aww no! You didn’t have to-guys!” You spot your best girl friends you haven’t seen in a while smile widely at your teary eyed reaction.

The two taller girls run towards you and coddle you in a long hug as you back away to take in the sight of them.

“You guys look gorgeous oh my god!”

The night goes beautifully as you catch up with your friends and sip on champagne. Jimin periodically chimes in and your friends congratulate you on the new found relationship.

“So do you love him or?” Your friend, Sky, whispers as your heart drops to your ass at the question.

You ponder before you answer. Jimin is really sweet to you but he’s always been a nice guy even in terms of friendship but you didn’t want to rush into saying the word just yet.

“I really like him. He’s set all this up for my birthday. You know how I am about not doing anything for my birthday.”

Your friends nod, taking in the sight of you after not seeing you for so long.

“You know after everything I’m surprised you didn’t end up with Jungkook.”

“What? Did everyone know about that except for me?”

Sky and Paige spent all of high school watching the two of you go through the awkward stage of your friendship to what it is now. The parties, the granting of a key when you landed your first apartment which made them side eye you, but you saw it as a safety measure if anything.

Your friend, Paige, rolls her eyes.

“You can be a little oblivious, hon but hey Jimin’s a cutie and if he treats you right that’s great!”

You nod with a grin, thinking of their words before you hear Sky speak.

“Speak of the devil.”

You turn to see Jungkook decked out in a gray suit as earrings decorate his ears and his newly black strands are slicked black. The wind knocks out of you at the sight of him leaning down to look at you, the starry look in his eyes never falters when he flashes a smile at you.

“Hey pretty!” He beams, throwing a wink at you before peering over at you friends who greet him with a curt handshake.

“I’m gonna steal the birthday girl for a sec.” His hand is out for you to take and you slowly let your hand fall into his cautiously. He leads you away from the crowd and gives you a smile.

“You look amazing.”

The compliment makes the alarms in your head go off but you blush at his words nonetheless.

“Thanks for coming and thank you, that's sweet.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment and you look away from his gaze to peer over at an excited Jimin who speaks to your friends.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His hand reaches over to put a strand of hair behind your ears. His touch leaves your skin burning in his presence. What is going on with you? Reaching into his suit pocket he pulls out a pink velvety box.

“Bought you a present. Saw you eyeing it at the mall a few times.”

“Jungkook, you didn’t-”

“-but I did. Always will when it comes to you.”

Opening the box promptly he pulls out the sparkly diamond bracelet that has the lightest tinge of pink on it as you spot a piece dangling from it.

“It’s your initial. May I?” He gestures toward your wrist, asking if he could clasp it on and you let him.

Tattooed digits carefully decorating your wrist with the diamonds.

You can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thank you so much. I didn’t think you’d show up because I thought you were mad at me.” You ramble on. He can hear that you’re on the verge of tears by your shaky voice while his hand caresses your back.

“I’m not mad, dearest and fuck me if I was. It’s your birthday and all the other shit doesn’t matter.”

He’s trying his best to be respectful as a best friend who has feelings for you but he can’t help but feel like everything he says is coated in intimacy. There’s nothing you can do to scare him away. He’s going to be here to watch all the huge things that are going to happen for you. He knows friends drift apart but he won’t let it happen with you.

“Love you.” You whisper against his ear.

Jimin deserves better than a girl who has a weird attachment towards her best friend. It isn’t fair for him to do all this for you while you’re crying in another man's arms.

“I love you too. Always.”

He’s careful in the way he holds you. He’s not a bad person. He may not be perfect but he would never disrespect you and his friend’s relationship.

“Happy birthday, Dearest.”

You finally pull away and wipe your eyes.

“I wanna go take shots. Join me?”

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.”

The timing is perfect because as you walk out you see Sky and Jimin carrying over a huge cake with candles beautifully lit upon it. They set the cake down on the table and Jimin is quick to wrap his arms around you. Kissing your cheek and shoulder sweetly before everyone gathers around to sing happy birthday to you. Your best friend feels his stomach sink at the sight of you together. He’s never seen Jimin like that before with anyone else. Jungkook tries to let the happiness for you overshadow his jealousy. He’s a good friend. His behavior towards you has been puerile and he told himself after that last kiss that he would let the thought of ever having you shrivel up and die.

“….happy birthday to you.”

You lean over to blow your candles as you clap in glee. A smile that spreads out from ear to ear graces your face as your equally beautiful boyfriend brings his lips to yours and your group of friends look at the two of you in admiration, but all Jungkook feels manifesting in his chest is envy.

-

“Don’t be a pussy, Kim.” Jungkook teases as he sits in the section of the nightclub secluded from the crowd of people on the main floor. The crystals of white piles on the table are evident as each person takes turns consuming it in the way they like.

Taehyung smirks at Jungkook’s intoxicated state. The boy didn’t know when to stop and he didn’t think he would hear from him again after the last time he’d sold to him which according to Yoongi didn’t end well but who was he to deny the extra cash?

“I’ve had enough. After this line I’m calling you an Uber.”

The younger man rolls his eyes at this before passionately snorting another line, sighing at the burn in his nostrils as he leans back on the cushion of the sectional.

“Ugh you used to be fun!” Jungkook slurs, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the high approaching.

“Your friends aren’t gonna cuss me out over you anymore. Yoongi is gonna have my fuckin head if he sees you like this.”

Taehyung’s words bring the thought of you to his mind. How happy you looked at your birthday party a week ago and how good you and Jimin looked together.

“You know yn’s with Jimin now? They look good together!”

Taehyung glares at the boy. What a trope. Jungkook not getting the girl he fawns over is quite the opposite of what he was expecting but from what he had heard and observed about you when seeing you at all the parties the boy threw it made sense. The way you kept a close eye on him each time he looked like he was indulging a little too much while you nursed the same drink all night.

Yes, Jungkook dabbled in hard drugs but Taehyung thought he knew how to control himself. This was him coping with the fact that you found someone else and left him on the sideline to watch as a friend and only that.

Taehyung excuses himself and Jungkook from the section before walking him through the club to the exit where the vehicle waits for him.

“Go home and get some rest and call me when you wake up. Keep this up and I won’t sell a single fucking gram to you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and opens the door and climbs into the backseat, going to close the door when Taehyung grabs it.

“I mean it.”

“I heard you bro! Calm the fuck down.”

Taehyung nods and shuts the car door firmly, bidding the driver a goodnight before watching it speed away.

-

The Uber takes Jungkook home and the first thing he wants to do when he gets home is take himself to bed but he sees your house key dangling from his key hanger and before his further judgment can take over he’s pulling his shoes back on and trailing over to yours.

The walk doesn’t take long and before Jungkook knows it he’s staring at your door.

It’s 1am and there’s a chance you’re asleep so he doesn’t knock. He simply lets himself in with his key and closes your door behind him, kicking his shoes off before footsteps make him look up to see your groggy form staring back at him.

“Oh-hey Kook.”

The air knocks out of Jungkook at the sight of you in a sports bra, sweats and your pink satin bonnet.

He clears his throat. “H-hey.”

You tilt your head at his appearance, walking closer to get a better look at him. Your hands reach over to his face feeling how warm he is to the touch and the way his nose is red and his pupils are dilated. He leans down a bit to give your shorter form an easier time examining him until your tear your hands off of him.

“..and you’re high.”

“N-no I just really wanted to see you.”

Your brow quirks up at him as you cross your arms.

“So you’re not high?”

“I am but I wanted to see you.” Jungkook giggles toward the end of his rebuttal and you scoff, walking to your kitchen to fill up your water bottle. Jungkook crosses the threshold and leans on the counter behind you.

“The full story is I was at the club with Tae where I did said drugs and then he got me an Uber to mine, then when I got there I was like ‘I miss yn!’ so I walked over here.”

“You walked? That’s not safe-what if you blacked out in a random alleyway or something?” You turn to look up at him. Water bottle long forgotten as you slam it on the counter.

“But I didn’t, baby. I’m here.” He counters with a look of satisfaction coating his features.

“I won’t lecture you any longer. I just worry is all.”

Jungkook nods, looking at you intently. It’s like you get prettier every time he sees you. You’re a little pale from the winter but your skin looks so soft and your cheeks are so round and- God damn you Jimin.

“I know and I’m sorry for making you.”

“You know this relationship is so funny because I can’t get angry at you anymore. All I can do is tell you that you are actively participating in your downfall.”

Your words cause a pit in his stomach and he knows there’s nothing he can say that will make you wrong. He isn’t being smart with the way he is choosing to handle his life. He just knows he can feel you drifting with every lecture, word, and argument.

“I don’t want to bury my best friend cuz he overdosed on fentanyl.” You say it so quietly that he nearly misses it. You can’t look at him while you say it so you choose to look down at the tiled floor.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Your voice breaks and he knows you’re about to cry.

Fuck. No. That’s not what he came here for. He thought you’d be asleep and he’d only planned to black out on the couch. He knows why he’s doing this but he can’t tell you that or lie to your face.

“Is it because of me?” You finally meet his eyes desperate for the answer.

“I don’t want to lie to you.”

“So don’t.”

“I’m just a little jealous but I’ll get over it.” He grumbles.

Jimin’s good. He’s a safe pick and you both share similar qualities while also being polar opposites. He likes parties on the weekend, you’ll tag along but on the days you can help it you’d rather stay home or drive into the city for a movie. He brings out the extrovert in you and overall makes you happier. You enjoy parties if he’s around and the movie seems to have deeper meaning when he watches with you.

“Was it the party?”

“It was.”

You feel the guilt boiling in your core.

“So what do you want me to do?”

He laughs. “I can’t dictate your life because I have a crush on you.”

You want to tell him he’s been dictating it since the day he turned to drugs and started having parties every week instead of talking it out with a professional or getting help.

“Would it be any better if I liked you back?”

He’s stunned, shaking his head to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Would you still be snorting coke at 1am if I loved you back?”

“Don’t tease me with that question.”

“I’m genuinely curious because if that’s the case consider me and Jimin done.”

“B-but that’s not fair to Jimin-”

“We broke up.”

“But you two are perfect together-” He attempts to defend.

“-and yet you’ve got a key to my apartment and you got me a crazy expensive birthday gift and you kissed me on that floor right there a month ago.”

Your finger points at the floor in your living room.

“Jimin deserves better than someone who’s obviously hung up on their best friend.” You shake your head.

“You got what you wanted. You didn’t want me with him anyway.”

“All of that is true but what does that mean for us?”

“It means I give you a chance. We give us a really good try.”

Jungkook reaches out to touch you but you pull away.

“We start when you’re sober. Goodnight, Dearest.” You land a quick kiss on his cheek before walking over to your room and leaving Jungkook to situate himself on the couch.

-

Jungkook is knocked out on his back when he wakes up to the feeling of warmth on his head and a weight on his thighs. His heavy eyelids open to the sight of you caressing his face with the pad of your thumb.

“Morning-or afternoon really.” You chuckle.

“What-” he babbles at the sight of you on top of him.

You’re frivolous with the way you let your hands linger on him as you tilt your head as you observe his groggy face.

“You okay? Feeling sick?”

“No, I'm fine. Just-” He looks down at you straddling him as a way to articulate his feelings.

“Oh right-”

You go to move but he stops you with a hand on your thigh.

“Stay.”

He sits up with a groan, resting his large hands on your waist and resting his head on the swell of your chest as your automatic response is to put your hand on his head feeling the prickles of his undercut as you play with the tendrils atop his head. You are taken back to the night you told him you liked Jimin and it was there you realized his feelings towards you. It’s not like the thought of being with Jungkook never crossed your mind. He was your first real crush but he was also everybody else’s and you didn’t want to be a part of that rat race so you did the only thing you knew how to do.

Pivot and distract yourself. Perhaps you and Jungkook weren’t all that different.

“What are you thinking about?” He breaks the silence.

“How if you ever show up at my door coked up again I’m breaking up with you.”

Laughter rings through him at your comment, hands slithering down to your ass testing the waters that is you.

“You have my word, Dearest.” He says cutely.

And it makes you smile.

[armpirate]

Unspoken || Jungkook

pairing: Soldier!JK x fem!reader || Boyfriend's friend

w.c.: 9.3k

Warnings: smut, cheating, dirty talk, male masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 42 minutes

Summary: You thought you had a happy relationship with your boyfriend, you were convinced nothing would ever come between you two. At least until you first met Jungkook, Mingyu's friend and base partner, for a holiday break. His pull toward you was immediate, but also forbidden. Neither of you needed to express how you felt about each other, your attraction was unspoken. Although it'd only get out of control the second you both confessed how you felt about each other.

MASTERLIST

Jungkook leaned back against the passenger seat, the low hum of the car engine blending with the soft playlist his colleague, Mingyu, had playing on the stereo. It was a rare break from the structured chaos of military life, and Jungkook still wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up accepting Mingyu's invitation to spend the holidays at his place.

"You're gonna love it," Mingyu had said, grinning as he threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car earlier that morning. "Y/n makes the best holiday food, and the vibe's just... different. You'll see."

"Thanks again for inviting me" Jungkook said now, glancing over at Mingyu, whose focus was split between the road and his casual commentary about how cold it always got in their hometown during the holidays.

"No problem. Can't have you stuck at the base during break, eating pre-packaged trash. And besides, Y/n's been wanting to meet you forever. She loves hearing my stories about how I carried your butt during training," Mingyu teased.

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes. "Carried me? Right. You couldn't even..."

Mingyu's laughter cut him off, the kind that made it hard not to smile along. Despite their constant banter, Jungkook had always appreciated Mingyu's warmth. It was one of the things that had made him such a good friend, both on and off duty.

The car pulled up to a modest but inviting house tucked behind a line of bare trees, its porch lit with soft golden lights. Jungkook stepped out, his boots crunching against the icy driveway as he stretched. His breath curled into the cold air, and for a moment, he let himself soak in the quiet that only winter seemed to bring.

Jungkook followed him inside, shaking off the chill. The warmth of the house hit him immediately, carrying with it the smell of cinnamon and pine. He stepped into the living room, his gaze moving over the soft, glowing decorations scattered across shelves and windows. Then his eyes landed on you.

You weren't quite sure when your boyfriend would show up, but you were dying to see him. Despite how cold it was outside, you managed to put on his favorite outfit: a pair of shorts that barely cupped your ass and a thin top that he had always managed to take off easily.

The click of the door, heard from your room, almost had you jumping in excitement in your place, biting your lip before you finally chose to walk downstairs to meet him.

You were expecting your boyfriend, but not the man who was behind him. Mingyu was quite big, but those doe-eyed man's shoulders managed to oversize your boyfriend's.

Jungkook barely registered Mingyu's playful retort because, for a second, it felt like time had slowed. You were stunning, not just in the way you carried yourself, but in the ease of your smile and the warmth in your dark eyes. You weren't what Jungkook had expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he actually had bothered to imagine you.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming with someone?" it was your first question as you walked downstairs, closing the gap to slap your boyfriend's arm.

"It'd be better if I leave" Jungkook got cut off by you, big eyes looking at him over Mingyu's shoulder.

"No, I didn't mean that" you sighed. "It's just... this dickhead should've told me first. I'm Y/n".

"I know" he smiled, quickly nodding. "You're everything he talks about in the base".

And now Jungkook knew why.

"Let me guess... Jungkook?" you pointed at him, looking unsure, but at the same time knowing you were about to give the right answer.

"You got it right".

Your laugh was soft, but it resonated. "It's nice to finally meet you, Jungkook," you said, extending a hand.

Jungkook shook it, his palm warm against yours, while he noticed the distance you had built. Maybe it was that he just wanted to feel you closer, while you were keeping the safety of each other's personal space.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, his voice steady even as something in his chest stirred.

He told himself it was just nerves. Or maybe the exhaustion from months of routine, of walls and regulations. Whatever it was, he ignored it.

You were Mingyu's.

And Jungkook had no intention of complicating that.

But as the evening unfolded and conversation flowed freely between the three of you, he couldn't shake the strange pull he felt toward you. Every laugh you shared, every subtle gesture, seemed to light something within him. It was subtle, unspoken, but undeniably there.

Jungkook had told himself, over and over, throughout the months he dragged after knowing you that it was just a fleeting crush, a strange little inconvenience brought on by proximity and circumstance. But the more time passed, the more he realized he was lying to himself.

It didn't help that you weren't the kind of woman he could ignore. Every time Mingyu mentioned you in passing, with his face lighting up with affection, it made something twist uncomfortably in Jungkook's chest. He hated the feeling. Hated that his mind lingered on stolen glances and shared laughter from the few times he had seen you.

It was getting worse, though. Much worse.

You visited the base once, just over a month after the holidays, surprising Mingyu with homemade snacks and your bright, warm presence that seemed to brighten the cold halls of their quarters. Jungkook hadn't known you were coming, but the moment your laughter echoed down the hallway, he knew.

He was mid-conversation with another soldier when you appeared, walking beside Mingyu with a radiant smile and a bag slung over your shoulder. You looked out of place in the best way, soft in a world of hard lines and camouflage.

"Jungkook!" you called out when you spotted him, your hand lifting in a small wave.

He froze for a moment, the sound of your voice cutting through everything else. Forcing a smile, he raised a hand in return, his stomach twisting into a knot as you approached. He didn't expect you there, and even less looking so bright with that short flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh.

He needed you to hug him to finally realize he wasn't going crazy with his own thoughts.

"I didn't know you'd be here today," he said, his voice steady even as he fought to keep his expression neutral, stepping back to look you in the eyes.

"Surprise!" you beamed. "I couldn't let Mingyu go too long without something sweet to snack on. And I packed extra for you, too. Thought you might appreciate it."

Your kindness was as effortless as it was genuine. That was the worst part. You weren't trying to make his heart race or send him spiraling into feelings he didn't want. You were just... you.

"Thanks," Jungkook murmured, taking the small package you handed him. Your fingers brushed briefly, and he cursed the way his pulse quickened.

Mingyu, oblivious as always, grinned at the interaction. "See? Told you she's the best. You don't know how lucky I am"

Jungkook's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly, his gaze flicking to you, who was already chatting with another soldier nearby. "You're really lucky."

The rest of your visit was a blur of polite small talk and stolen glances that Jungkook wished he could erase from his memory. When you finally left, Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, talking about you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in the chaos of military life.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook felt like he was losing a battle he couldn't even admit he was fighting.

Each passing week only made it harder to ignore. Every time he caught himself thinking about you, he'd push the thoughts away, burying them under layers of duty and loyalty. But they always came back, stronger and more insistent, until it felt like he was carrying a weight he couldn't shake.

And the worst part was knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

If he thought it was going to be a temporary crush, he couldn't be more wrong. And what made the least sense for him was the way it kept growing bigger with the little he actually saw you. But hell, the little he saw you was enough to have a huge impact on his system and the way his brain worked to be wrapped around you.

If you wore a new gloss, it was enough for him to keep thinking about the way it'd taste on your lips if he kissed you. If you did something new to your hair, he kept coming up with ways of brushing the few strands that escaped your hairstyle and getting you to smile shyly. And the most simple thoughts turned into the most primitive when he was alone in his room, reminiscing of how your clothes always looked good on you. It only made him wonder how good what was underneath would look.

You were a nightmare and a dream at the same time. Something he couldn't reach, but something he couldn't escape either.

He needed it to get it to stop.

That was why he agreed when you came up with a blind date for him. Jungkook knew he should've said no the moment you brought it up, but his desperation to get you out of his head was bigger than his common sense.

"I have this friend," you had said, your eyes lighting up with the enthusiasm that always made his heart skip a beat. "She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. I think you two would really hit it off!"

He'd tried to decline politely, but you had a way of being insistent without overstepping. Before he knew it, he was sitting in a crowded cinema on a Friday night with someone he barely knew while you and Mingyu sat right next to them.

His date, Hana, was nice enough, chatty and kind, exactly as you had described. But Jungkook couldn't focus. Every smile she gave him, every laugh they shared over popcorn, felt hollow. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to the woman who had orchestrated this evening in the first place, the same woman who was sitting at his left, oblivious of how crazy you drove him.

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the movie, and the theater fell into a hushed silence. Jungkook shifted in his seat, trying to settle his restless thoughts, but the more he tried to focus on the screen, the harder it became.

It didn't help that your voice still lingered in his head, your laugh from earlier in the night replaying over and over.

He wasn't even aware of what he was doing at first. It was an unconscious movement he didn't quite control. His hand, resting on the armrest, slipped lower, brushing against your skirt where it met your thigh. It was an innocent gesture at first, or at least, he told himself it was. But as his fingers pressed just a fraction further, he felt the warmth of your skin, the soft fabric of your dress.

His breath hitched.

You tensed beside him, turning slightly. "Jungkook?" you whispered, your tone more confused than alarmed.

Realizing what he'd done, he immediately withdrew his hand, his heart pounding. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie. "I... hmm... I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

You offered a small, uncertain smile, brushing it off with a light shrug. "It's fine," you whispered back, your focus returning to the screen.

But Jungkook couldn't move past it. His stomach churned, guilt and shame twisting inside him. He hadn't mistaken you for Hana, not in the physical sense, at least. But in the darkness of the theater, his mind had wandered, and for a fleeting, selfish moment, he'd let his emotions take over.

He spent the rest of the movie barely moving, his body rigid as he counted down the minutes until the credits rolled. When the lights came up, you seemed as sweet and nice as always, as if that moment hadn't meant anything for you.

But Jungkook couldn't shake the weight of what had happened, or the realization that he was spiraling into feelings he had no business indulging.

Your concern for his happiness, your effort to set him up with someone, had only made things worse. You saw him as a friend, nothing more. And yet, his own desires had betrayed not only his loyalty to Mingyu but the respect he'd tried to maintain for you yourself.

As you exited the theater and Mingyu teased him about the "cute couple" they made, Jungkook forced a laugh, but inside, he felt like he was crumbling.

Something had to change.

Because if he didn't find a way to stop this, he knew it would destroy him, and everything he valued most.

Those were the only thoughts in his head while he stared at the ceiling that same night, trying to know what was the best way to put a solution to everything going on. Maybe it was time for him to stop his friendship with Mingyu and free himself from the pain and the trouble.

A sound broke through the silence. It wasn't loud, it was obvious he wasn't supposed to hear it, but it was followed by another sound that was heard clearer the second time. Your moans were soft and cautious, almost as if coming from the back of your throat by how hard you tried to keep them to yourself.

But he heard. Of course he heard it.

Jungkook didn't know when he disconnected, or more like when he allowed his brain to come up with images of you. But when he realized it was way too late and he liked it too much to stop it.

His fingers were closed around himself under the blankets, his eyes closed and his lips parted as the thought of him being the one getting those sounds out of you started being more powerful. Not only powerful, it was so vivid he could almost feel his digits pressing on your flesh to keep you in place, your warm breath on his neck while your fingers played with his hair. He twitched on the spot when he replaced the emptiness of his hand with warmth inside you. He was sure you'd take him well, knowing he was meant to be pounding into you instead of rubbing against his palm. He also knew he could make those moans sound louder, making you unable to control yourself, no matter who was in the next room. You'd be loud and desperate for him to let you reach your orgasm. He could even hear your whimpers against his ear, with your thin breath coating his lobe. Your nails would drag down his spine and your legs would close tight around his waist, because he knew you probably were the type to get so blinded by pleasure that you had no control over your body.

All of his muscles tensed when he pictured you reaching the climax, his toes almost curling by pleasure while he had to gulp the groan that almost interrupted your prolonged moan when you came, not wanting to cut how good you sounded.

If you ever said his name with that same needy tone, he knew he'd cum at the first letter you pronounced.

Reality hit him again when he blinked in the darkness, realizing he fell back again into the same course he promised he wouldn't follow a few weeks back. Without making a sound, he got out of his room to clean himself up.

Right when he was just coming out of the bathroom, you were walking through the corridor, coming back from the stairs. Your cheeks were a pale read, your eyes big and still dark, your hair messy, but that same friendly smile remained.

"How was the date? Did you like Hana?" your eyebrows raised with curiosity. "She's nice, right?"

But Jungkook didn't care about how nice Hana was. He didn't care whether they'd make a cute couple or not, because the only thing in his head at that moment was the idea of you asking that because you were minimally jealous, and not because you were genuinely hoping something would come out of that blind date.

"I... I don't think so" Jungkook grimaced, avoiding your eyes.

"Aw really?" you almost pouted. "Why not?"

It was his chance, or so he thought. For once he didn't let his consciousness get in between what he wanted, he didn't allow caution to stop him from taking the chance you were offering.

He pulled you in the bathroom, closing the door right behind you before cornering you against it. You couldn't help but hear your heartbeat against your eardrums, slowly taking you away from reality, leaving you deaf to anything that wasn't Jungkook's voice.

"If I tell you 'why not', I'm afraid we'll have a big problem" he admitted, his hand slowly raising up to your head level.

Your tongue moved through your lips, but it stayed as dry while his eyes pushed you to do the craziest things that came to mind "Jungkook, I..."

"Don't say my name" he cut you off. "Don't say my name or I'll lose control of myself, and I promise you there will be no turning back".

What were you supposed to say? No words were able to come out of your lips. What was he expecting you to say?

"I didn't like Hana because I kept thinking how your lips would still taste sweet, even after the popcorn you were eating. I didn't get confused and touch you when I wanted to touch Hana. I wanted to touch you, at least know what it felt like. I'm going crazier every day for you, and I don't know how much I'll take it".

"I'm with Mingyu" you confronted.

You used those words, hoping they'd work for Jungkook the same way they worked for you. But they had no effect on him.

Your sentence seemed like a lame excuse to stop yourself. It wasn't a straight 'no' because you were sure of your decision. It was a weak excuse to get to know whether that mattered to him as little as it started to matter for you since you first met Jungkook.

"I know" he scoffed, "of course I know" his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to be in his place tonight. Just the thought of having you around me has kept me satisfied for a while, but tonight... Fuck, tonight I realized how much I need that to stop being a thought and be a reality".

You hated the way your body reacted to his words, but you hated even more how he didn't need those words to make you feel the way you did.

"I..." you were so close to succumbing, so close to ruin it all. "No".

It was the only word you could pronounce, the only word that wouldn't hint at how indecisive you actually were and wouldn't expose your shaky and unsure tone before you pushed him away.

It would be a mistake. A big one. And you couldn't do that to Mingyu, not to yourself. You were better than all that.

Your heart stopped when he paused your steps before you could reach the door to your room, forcing you to turn around and face him, before you were back against a wall.

Jungkook was aware of the way you looked at him before you stepped out of the bathroom, and seeing you under Mingyu's t-shirt pushed him to fire the last bullet. The only thought was how possessive he felt of you when he noticed you were wearing his military t-shirt, another detail reminding him you weren't his.

He would regret it the next day but, at least, it was something he'd get out of his chest.

He kissed you.

His hands were cupping your cheeks while his lips moved slowly on yours. For a moment, that was the only thing that mattered. It wasn't the way you both knew each other, or the circumstances... you could only feel him.

Your fingers tugged on his t-shirt on his waist, too unsure to pull him closer, but too needy to let go. His lips felt different, like he was familiar with you despite not kissing you before. He treated you with such care while showing off how much he craved you, that you thought it couldn't be real.

You gasped when his tongue slid through your lips, finding yours, barely touching before you broke the kiss again after hearing your boyfriend calling you from inside the room.

You felt so guilty because of how much you liked it, and you also felt guilty because you couldn't give Jungkook what he wanted.

What had you done?

He knew, by the way you looked at him as you walked back to the room, that there was no point in trying, because Mingyu would always be your choice.

The airport was buzzing with life, a constant ebb and flow of people coming and going. You stood just outside the arrival gate, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if the gesture alone could shield you from the nervousness to take a toll on your sanity.

You didn't want to be there. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

When Mingyu had asked you to pick Jungkook up, the instinctive response had been a hard no. But you'd hesitated, your heart betraying your mind. You hadn't seen him in weeks, not since that night, when everything got out of control between you two.

Actually, he set a whole ocean in between you when he left for a special mission in another country. Yet, that distance only made him more present in your life. Your head could only wonder whether he was alright, because whenever you asked Mingyu, he never had enough information that could help you to go on.

During those moments, you regretted only kissing him once.

The memory was still vivid, a flash of heat and regret tangled together in a kiss that should never have happened. He'd kissed you as if he'd been holding back for far too long, and the way your body had responded, the way your heart had raced, made it all more dangerous, because you couldn't remember reacting that same way with your boyfriend -not even when you started dating.

But you had returned to him that same night, guilt pressing heavy on your chest, and Jungkook had pulled away, physically, emotionally, entirely.

The distance he'd created had been suffocating. You'd told yourself it was for the best, that you two needed it. And yet, when Mingyu asked you to help out this once, your excuses had faltered.

Deep down, you wanted to see him.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you suspected Jungkook felt the same.

Your thoughts scattered when the sliding doors opened, and Jungkook emerged, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was tousled from the long flight, his jaw set with the faintest tension, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on you.

"Y/n," he greeted, his voice low, almost hesitant.

"Jungkook," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hum of the airport surrounded you, but it felt distant, like you were suspended in your own little bubble of awkward silence and unresolved tension.

"You didn't have to come," he finally said, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder.

"Mingyu asked me to," you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

It was an excuse that you didn't believe yourself.

Your boyfriend asked you to, but you could've said no. You could've used work as an excuse not to be there, and you knew your boyfriend would've taken it.

You sighed, your posture relaxing slightly. "But... I didn't mind."

That last part slipped out before you could stop it, and Jungkook's eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place. Relief, hope... you didn't know, but it was positive.

"Let's go," you added quickly, turning on your heel and heading toward the exit.

The walk to the car was quiet, the tension between you palpable. You unlocked the doors, and both climbed in, the faint smell of pine from your air freshener filling the silence.

"How has it been?" you managed to ask.

He grimaced, his expression unsure while he twitched on his seat "It was... okay. Let's say the noise these few weeks have kept me distracted. Some thoughts are way louder and disturbing" he admitted, his tattooed arm resting next to the window.

It didn't take much for you to know what he was hinting at. Any hopes you had to be able to ignore what happened between you two, vanished when he confessed he felt as disturbed as you did.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, the words you'd been holding back tumbled out. "Why did you do it?"

Jungkook turned to you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"You know what," you said, gripping the wheel tightly. "The kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I couldn't keep pretending," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't keep acting like I didn't feel something for you. Like I didn't..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know what happened that night, but I felt like I needed to do it. After so much time, it just felt right".

Your chest tightened. You didn't know what you'd expected, but his honesty left you breathless.

"You didn't say anything after," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought it was better that way," he replied. "You went back to Mingyu, and I knew I had no right to... to want anything more. That's why I volunteered for this new mission. It was better than staying here."

Your grip on the wheel faltered for a moment, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You swallowed hard, focusing on the road.

"So you don't regret it?" you managed to ask.

"Do you?" he questioned immediately after, eyes narrowing while trying to read through your body language.

A scoff introduced your reply before you spoke "I asked first".

"No".

The car fell silent again, but this time, the quiet wasn't as heavy. There was something unspoken between you, something you both knew couldn't be resolved in one drive.

The ride had grown quieter, but the tension between you buzzed like static in the air. You couldn't focus, your hands gripping the steering wheel as your thoughts ran in circles around Jungkook's answer.

It lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Did you actually regret that kiss?

When you reached the mall parking lot, a stop you'd insisted on under the guise of needing to grab something, you parked the car and let out a long breath.

"You don't have to come in," you said, your voice clipped.

"I don't mind," Jungkook replied casually, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

Of course he wouldn't stay in the car. He would never make things easy for you.

The two of you walked through the glass doors of the mall, the buzz of activity offering a welcome distraction. You kept your focus on the shops ahead, determined to ignore the way Jungkook's presence seemed to fill the space beside you.

"What do you need here?" he asked, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as you strolled past storefronts.

"Just... something for Mingyu," you lied, thinking that bringing up his name would work as a stop for the two of you

"Hmm," he hummed while nodding slowly, his tone unreadable.

You stopped in front of a small boutique, pretending to be interested in the display of watches in the window. But your focus shattered when you felt Jungkook lean in, his voice low near your ear, the warmth of his chest almost hitting your back.

"Why are you avoiding looking at me?"

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back, glaring at him. "I'm not avoiding you."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, one that sent a shiver down your spine. "You are," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the entrance of the store, but before you could take another step, Jungkook caught your wrist.

"Y/n," he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.

You turned reluctantly to face him, your heart pounding. Thinking you'd look stronger, you ended up feeling smaller.

"What?" you snapped, though the bite in your voice was weak.

His dark eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you forgot where you were. The bustling mall around you faded, leaving just the two of you in the small pocket of space they occupied.

"I'm going to make you want me," Jungkook said, his tone calm but resolute.

"W... What?"

"These days I've been away... I made the decision that I wouldn't give up on you" he confessed. "I tried, but it didn't work out, because I know you want me as much as I want you, you just need something to help you realize".

Your lips parted, a mix of shock and defiance flashing across your face. "Jungkook, stop."

"I mean it," he continued, stepping just close enough to make your breath catch. "You can keep pretending this doesn't exist, but you feel it just as much as I do."

Your pulse quickened, heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad... But I'll let you be the one taking the lead the next time".

"I'm with Mingyu," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It didn't stop sounding like a momentary stop, instead of a determined rejection. It was an excuse that kept giving him hints on how you felt. Not by the words, but the tone and weak look in your eyes.

"And I hate that I'm saying this while you are," he admitted, his gaze softening. "But it doesn't change how I feel. And I know it doesn't change how you feel."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. "You don't know how I feel."

"You're right, I don't" he countered, his tone firm. "But one thing for sure: you were waiting for that kiss as much as I did. You keep waiting for me to kiss you, I bet you're dying for me to do it right now" he continued. "Next time we kiss though... I doubt I'll be able to go on with just that".

You shook your head, breaking eye contact as you turned away. "Don't waste your time. Nothing is going to happen"

He didn't follow you this time, letting you walk ahead into the store. But as you browsed aimlessly, his words echoed in your mind, each one carving deeper into the walls you'd tried to build between you two.

It wasn't simple. It never could be.

The party was alive with music and chatter, the kind of event where everyone seemed carefree, wrapped up in their own little bubbles of fun, laughs and alcohol. You, however, felt far from carefree.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor with Mingyu, his arm draped possessively over your shoulder as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You tried to smile, to play the role of the attentive girlfriend, but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the man standing across the room.

Jungkook.

He looked effortlessly handsome in his black button-up, the top few buttons undone to reveal just enough of his tanned skin to make heads turn. He leaned casually against the bar, a drink in his hand, his gaze flicking toward you every so often. You tried not to look at him, but the pull was magnetic, impossible to resist.

It was as if having him so far from you only helped to pull you closer. And that was what happened the whole night. Jungkook didn't walk around you, even Mingyu was surprised by the distance he had settled, although he shrugged it off thinking his friend was just out to get on with someone.

If he only knew...

The tension between you two had been unbearable ever since the airport.Thinking it couldn't get any worse than the day after your first kiss, you were proved wrong. The unresolved words, the unspoken confessions... they lingered like ghosts in every glance you shared. And tonight, it felt as though the air crackled with it, threatening to ignite at any moment.

You adjusted the hem of your dress, a sleek black number that clung to your figure in all the right places. You thought it was Mingyu's gift when it arrived at your apartment, complete with a note that read, Can't wait to take it off tonight.

But when you'd mentioned it to him earlier, Mingyu had laughed. "I can't wait to take off any clothes you're wearing, to be honest. But, especially, this new dress. You have such a good taste" he'd said casually.

It was then you realized.

The handwriting on the note wasn't Mingyu's, but it wasn't like you cared enough to realize. You wanted it so bad to be your boyfriend's, that you ignored all the details.

The realization had sent a ripple of unease through you, but it wasn't enough to stop you from wearing it.

Jungkook's gaze darkened every time it landed on you, his jaw clenching as he watched you laugh at something Mingyu whispered in your ear. You weren't immune to his jealousy, but instead of feeling guilty, it fueled something in you, a twisted desire to test his limits.

So when Mingyu kissed you, you let him.

The kiss was long and slow, a public display that left no room for doubt about your relationship. Your hands trailed up Mingyu's chest, and though your mind wasn't fully in the moment, you didn't stop yourself. Even your boyfriend was surprised by how touchy you were being.

When you dared to peek through half-lidded eyes, you saw Jungkook. His knuckles whitened around his glass before he abruptly turned away.

It was petty, and you knew it. But it didn't stop you from feeling a small, vindictive thrill.

Jungkook didn't stay by the bar for long. When you glanced over again, he was on the dance floor, a striking brunette by his side. She was tall, confident, her hand sliding along his chest as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Your stomach twisted, the sight of them together setting your nerves on fire. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Mingyu and the party, but your eyes betrayed you, following Jungkook as he danced with the woman.

He didn't look at you, not once. It was as if he'd decided to pretend you didn't exist.

And yet, every move he made felt deliberate. The way he leaned into the brunette's touch, the way he let her lips graze his ear, all of it was meant to taunt you.

It was working.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy that you couldn't suppress, your grip tightening around your drink. Mingyu noticed, pulling your attention back to him with a soft smile.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a little warm in here."

Mingyu didn't seem convinced, but he let it go, turning back to his conversation.

You, however, couldn't let it go. Your gaze found Jungkook again, and this time, he was looking back. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

His expression was unreadable, but his message was clear.

Two can play this game.

Your heart pounded, and you hated the way it thrilled you. The way his attention, whether born of anger or jealousy, still managed to consume you entirely.

The game was far from over, but you weren't sure who would come out the winner, or if winning even mattered anymore.

The pounding bass of the music reverberated through the walls, muffled and distant in the small confines of the bathroom. You leaned against the sink, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Your lipstick was still flawless, your dress clinging to you like a second skin.

You should've felt guilty for what you were about to do. You really should've.

But the fire in your chest, the jealousy that had flared every time you saw him with that brunette on the dance floor, had burned through your restraint.

The door clicked open behind you, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room before he even said a word. You didn't let him take one step forward when you pushed him back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you two.

"You shouldn't be in here," Jungkook said, his voice low, his tone carrying that familiar edge of frustration.

"So, do you want me to leave?" you replied, turning to face him with a small, taunting smile.

He looked at you, his dark eyes searching, confused by your calm demeanor. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his posture stiff as he leaned back against the closed door.

"You've been playing games all night," you said, taking a slow step toward him. "Dancing with her. Ignoring me. Acting like you don't care when we both know you do."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

You took another step, the sound of your heels clicking against the tile floor. "You said you'd make me want you," you murmured, stopping just inches from him. "So why aren't you trying harder?"

He exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up. "Didn't you tell me to leave you alone?"

"Right after I told you, you said you'd make sure I wanted you" your head tilted, the tip of your fingers gently brushing against the exposed tattoos on his arm.

"You don't know what you're asking for"

"Don't I?" you asked, tilting your head. Your fingers trailed up his chest, over the smooth fabric of his shirt, until they rested just over his racing heartbeat.

His hand shot up, catching your wrist, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his grip tightened, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"You seem to be a little too much into what I'm doing" he snapped back at you, though his voice lacked the confidence.

"Don't come up with that" you countered, your lips curving into a sly smile. "Don't act like you haven't been looking at me, dying to touch me all night."

The tension snapped like a live wire.

Jungkook let go of your wrist, only to grab your waist, pulling your flush against him. "You're really pushing me, Y/n," he said through gritted teeth, his breath warm against your face.

"Maybe I want to see how far you'll go," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.

His resolve crumbled in an instant.

Your lips crashed together, the kiss hungry and frenzied, months of pent-up desire pouring out in every movement. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, sliding down the curve of your back as if he couldn't get enough.

You matched his intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your back hitting the door when he made the both of you turn. The cool wood contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're going to regret this," Jungkook murmured against your lips, though his actions said otherwise.

"Then give me something to regret," you shot back, your voice breathless.

For a moment, time ceased to exist. There was only the sound of your breathing, the faint thrum of music beyond the door, and the way you fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting far too long to connect.

His smirk only disappeared when he kissed you back again, pressing his body against yours, not wanting to let a single centimeter ruin the experience of feeling you against his body. It was like his dreams were coming true whenever your fingertips brushed the back of his hair every time your tongues touched.

But reality was never far behind.

A loud knock on the door startled you both, and you pulled back, your chest heaving. Jungkook's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Occupied!" he called out, his voice rough.

You laughed softly, the sound almost bitter. You straightened your dress, smoothing out the fabric cupping his cheeks again. Your tongue traced his upper lip, instantly getting him to lick it as a response before Jungkook tried to pull you for another kiss.

"You won't be taking this dress off tonight" you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Really?" Jungkook challenged, his gaze piercing as he looked at you.

Your resolve wavered, but you forced yourself to turn away, your hand on the door handle. "Really"

As you stepped out into the chaos of the party, your heart pounded in your chest, your body still buzzing with the memory of his touch.

The door closed behind you, the sound reverberating through the small entryway of Jungkook's apartment. He kept looking at you concerned. When he heard you through the phone, he knew something was off, but now that he was seeing the state you were in, he knew it was worse than he could imagine.

"Y/n?" he asked,getting your attention, your face flushed and eyes blazing. "What happened? Why are you here so late?"

You didn't answer right away, your fists clenching at your sides as you struggled to find the right words. The argument with Mingyu was still fresh, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

"Why do you keep doing this?" you finally demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts anger and frustration.

Jungkook frowned, stepping back at that attack. "Doing what?"

"You," you spat, pointing at him. "You're always there, always watching, always... lingering in the back of my mind. Do you have any idea what it's doing to me?"

His confusion shifted into something more guarded, his shoulders tensing. "I think you need to calm down," he said carefully.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "I just had the worst fight with Mingyu, and you know what? It wasn't even about him. It was about you."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I was mad because he's leaving again, he's leaving me alone for another mission, another stretch of time where I have to sit and wait and pretend like I'm okay with it." your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "But I wasn't yelling at him because of that. Do you know what I was thinking instead of worrying because he won't be with me?" you stopped, your gaze attacking him. "I was fucking glad he is leaving. Do you even realize what this means? I'm the worst girlfriend ever. No matter how much I try, I can't get you out of my head. You're there all the damn time with any reason".

Jungkook's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his gaze searching for yours.

He knew Mingyu was leaving. They both discussed it before he finally made the decision. He even remembered the way his friend tried to find out the way to tell you, yet all he could think of was how there would be nothing on the way for him.

"I hate it," you whispered, your voice softening as the anger gave way to something more fragile. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. That when I'm with him, it's your face I see. That this... whatever this is between us, it's ruining me."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"You think it's easy for me?" Jungkook said finally, his voice rough. "You think I don't feel the same way? That every time I see you with him, it doesn't tear me apart?"

You flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show.

"I didn't ask for this, Y/n," he continued, stepping closer to you. "I didn't ask to feel this way about someone I can't have. But here we are. I also hate not being able to look Mingyu in the eyes because all I can think about is his girlfriend. Or how, instead of telling him not to go, I wanted to encourage him to leave".

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides as though he were trying to hold himself back.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. "Why now?"

There was a brief silence, realizing with his question you had no business there. Why were you there?

"I don't know," you admitted, your eyes glistening. "I just... I needed to see you."

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"I know" you whispered, your voice breaking.

And then, as though drawn by an invisible force, you both moved at the same time. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him toward you as his arms wrapped around your waist. Your lips met in a clash of desperation and need, a release of all the emotions you'd been bottling up for so long.

The kiss was messy, frantic, and utterly consuming, neither of you caring about the consequences for the first time.

In a mini second his hands were everywhere they could reach, making your whole body squirm when he cupped your ass with his palms. It was fast, need hitting you two like a truck, barely giving you time to settle what was happening before you were getting rid of each other's clothes.

His tattooed fingers moved down your neck, in between your breasts, feeling your rushed heartbeat against his palm. He could sense you felt the same way he did, but you'd been too stubborn to admit it.

He kept moving down, the heat of your skin raising with every soft touch of his digits, your legs slightly parting when he attempted to slide through your folds. His groan made you throb against the tips, causing his breathing to become heavier.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" he asked with a thin voice, slowly starting to rub your clit in circles.

"I love it" you admitted. Your hand traced his packed chest, going down his marked abs until you moved past his v line "I kept thinking about being with you like this since you first kissed me".

You didn't know, but those words worked like a switch for Jungkook. Hearing from your lips how you were into him as much as he was into you was the little he needed to lose every bit of sanity.

Before your fingers could reach his dick, he pulled you for another kiss. His rough hands went straight to your ass, cupping your cheeks so he could lift your body and have your legs around his waist.

Jungkook didn't take you to the room, he didn't want to waste another second without being linked to you, he had wasted too much time already. You gasped again when your back collided against the wall.

His lips trapped you in an unknown world you didn't know could be so pleasuring. Usually, it was always just about Jungkook. But that night it was all about Jungkook, his taste, his gaze, the way his tongue worshiped your body like he wanted to know and memorize what every bit of you tasted like.

Your body arched for him when he closed his lips around your hard nipple, moving his lips and tongue like he was actually devouring you. You hadn't ever done it, but you were sure you'd be able to cum by the way he was only sucking you.

"Please, Jungkook" you muttered, your fingers getting lost in his strands of hair.

"Ask me" he demanded. "I've been imagining those words for way too long, I need to hear them".

"Fuck me" you asked, looking into his eyes. "Make me regret taking so long to do this"

"You're mine, Y/n," he growled, his eyes darkening, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You didn't respond, but the passion and hunger simmering within you made it clear that you knew a part of you belonged to him before you could admit it.

He reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair, and tugged your head back, exposing your neck. His lips found the delicate skin below your ear, and he nipped and sucked, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He leaned in, his eyes blazing with possessive desire, and his lips crushed against yours again, with a hunger that set fire to the pit of your stomach. His tongue delved deep, exploring every hidden crevice of your mouth, whilst his hands clutched at your body, gripping you tightly. That kiss only worked to drown the moan in your mouth as he slowly slid inside you, trying to memorize the feeling, to feel every millimeter in your channel get adjusted to him.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his. It was slow at first, with the two of you wanting to get a taste of what you'd been craving, but were too stubborn to admit. But slowly, the intensity started getting the best of you, his digits denting on your skin as he angled his hips to rock them against you.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans and sighs echoing in the room as you reached for your release. Jungkook's dirty talk fueled your desire, and you eagerly met his thrusts, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that only intensified their pleasure.

"Oh, god, Jungkook," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust harder.

"You like that, don't you?" Jungkook asked, his voice strained with desire. "You like feeling my cock inside you? Hmm? Fucking you like this?"

As you moved together, you found yourself lost in the moment. You had never felt this alive, this desired. Jungkook's dirty talk only added to the experience, his words making you wetter and more eager for him. Every time you thought you couldn't be more into him, he always did something that proved it was only the beginning.

"Yes, Jungkook, harder," Y/n begged, your voice filled with need.

He bent down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently. You arched your back again, your hands tangled in Jungkook's hair as you urged him on.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Jungkook sensed it too, because he started pounding into you even harder. The loud dry claps of your bodies echoing through the silence of the room.

"Are you going to cum for me? Do it, baby" his forehead was resting against yours. "I'm going to cum inside you, Y/n. I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

With a loud cry, you came, your pussy clenching around Jungkook's cock. Jungkook followed soon after, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with his cum, staying like that for a few moments, panting and trying to catch their breath, hoping common sense wouldn't hit you and make you regret what had just happened.

Jungkook slowly pulled out of you, moving his hips back while his hands still carried you. You looked up at him all the way through it, your eyes filled with something else that wasn't regret, yet he couldn't quite decipher what it was. You leaned in and kissed him again.

Although that kiss only meant the night wasn't ending there.

And it didn't.

You laid on top of Jungkook, your long hair cascading down your back as you moved your hips up and down, grinding your pussy against his cock. Your perky breasts bounced with each movement, and Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you, hypnotized by the way your body moved. He reached up and cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples as you moaned with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, throwing your head back as you rode him harder. "Your cock feels so good"

Jungkook smirked, reaching down to spank your ass. "I love how your your tight little pussy takes me so well"

You moaned, biting your bottom lip as you nodded. "Hmm yes"

"Just like that... Show me how bad you want it" as time passed by, he sank deeper on the couch.

Just then, Jungkook's phone started ringing. You paused, looking up at him with a confused expression when he froze for a moment.

You were too drunk with pleasure to think of any possibility that wasn't distracting him from it, your lips moving quick to his neck.

"Who is it?" you asked.

Jungkook reached for his phone, but he didn't answer it. Mingyu had sent him countless messages, he had called a few times, and he knew the reason why was in front of him. He looked at you, knowing the second he mentioned your boyfriend, it all would stop.

He tossed it aside and focused on you, his hands on your hips as he thrust up into you.

"Who fucking cares" he moved forward, hiding his face on your neck. "You're so fucking hot, Y/n," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I could fuck you all day long."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Jungkook grinned, his hands on your hips as he guided your movements. He loved how wild and uninhibited you were in bed, how you weren't afraid to take charge and ride him hard. Hell, you were the best fantasy he had ever had, and he finally had you.

"That's right, baby, ride my cock," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "You do it so well"

You nodded, unable to speak as you focused on the delicious sensation of Jungkook's cock filling you up. You could feel yourself getting close to orgasm, your muscles clenching around him as you rode him harder and faster. The claps of your bodies turning into splashes due to your sticky skin covered in sweat and his load mixed with your juices leaking out of you.

He reached down between you, teasing your clit with his fingers as you moaned into his mouth. You started moving your hips again, grinding against him as you chased your orgasm again.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, breaking the kiss as you threw your head back. "I'm so close. Don't stop". Your nails digged on his skin, all the muscles in your body tensing "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm almost there, Jungkook, I'm almost there."

Jungkook grinned, gripping your hips as he slammed up into you harder. "That's right, baby. Come for me. I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Jungkook didn't need any more encouragement. He thrust up into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he came hard. You followed him over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as you screamed out your own orgasm while your nails dug into his chest. Jungkook grunted, following you over the edge as he filled you with his cum.

It didn't hit you after the climax, not even after you showered and dressed yourself. It hit you when you walked to the door and he kissed you one last time, with such delicacy and care that you couldn't believe it was the same man you were begging to.

His steps were careful, pinning you against the wall again while cupping your cheeks.

You weren't quite sure what you wanted to do, but one thing for sure: you couldn't let go of Jungkook so easily after that night. 

[jungkookstatts]

Cherry Flavored

[Summary]: Your biker boyfriend takes you on a joyride.

[Theme]: Established realtionship!AU, Biker!JK

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, oral (f receiving), spitting, dom!JK, riding, creampie, spanking

[Word Count]: 5,498

[A/N]: The biker verse has come to me in the new year. So has covid. But biker fantasies heal me. Enjoy! (P.s. thinking of doing a Tae fic soon??)

“Just, hold onto me,” Jungkook smiles. It’s a toothy grin, one that would usually send butterflies of affection straight to your tummy. His lip piercings shine like the metal around his fingers and ears, catching the midnight glow of the street lamps against them.

“There’s no seat belt,” you exhale.

“Of course,” he laughs a little. Brown hairs fall over his forehead with the soft force of his voice. You’re too nervous to move them out of the way like you usually would right now. “It’s a motorcycle, baby. I’m your seat belt.”

You laugh in disbelief.

“Kook, I’m not sure—” you begin, but he stops you. Cold hands cup your cheeks, his nose inches from yours. You can smell cherries on his breath, left over from the cherry flavored lollipop he bought from one of the gum ball machines at the entrance of the diner you just ate at.

“Baby,” he kisses your lips once. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, you know that.”

You exhale against his lips, knowing his words are true. But still, your mind can’t help but evaluate all the “what ifs”.

“I’ll go slow,” he smiles softly. “No games.”

“Promise?” You search his eyes. You know he isn’t lying. He’d never play with your safety like that. He loves you too much. Such an over protective boyfriend. A big teddy bear at heart despite the piercings, tattoos, and loud motorcycle he has to his name. He’d never do anything to harm you.

“I promise,” he kisses you again. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you exhale. The boy smiles again. It shoves your nervous butterflies away and briefly replaces them with those affectionate butterflies you missed dearly.

“Good,” he kisses you deeper this time. You feel his pillowy lips against yours, sliding between your lips like they were made to be there. You almost grab his jaw to keep him against you. But he cuts the kiss short. The taste of cherries is left on your lips when he pulls away and grabs the spare helmet off the back of his bike.

“Put this on,” he hands it to you. It’s black and glossy and twice the size of your head. But you slide it on anyways, looking at your boyfriend through the tinted glasses of the helmet.

“How do I look?” You ask him.

Jungkook’s heart nearly flips. Who would have thought you’d be so cute with a helmet on? He did. You just confirmed it.

“Cold,” he settles with. Pulling of his biker jacket, he puts it over your shoulders. It’s night, and the air will only get colder once he starts riding. The jacket will provide extra protection if you fall, too. It’s thick exterior and interior act as a buffer against any surface. He doesn’t have a spare, but he’d risk himself for you on any occasion.

You slide the bulky sleeves up your arms, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the unfamiliar garment. It doesn’t really feel like a proper jacket, too stiff and thick to have on unless you were riding. 

“Now, the key is to just lean,” he puts his own helmet over his head, trying to refocus. You watch his tattooed fingers grasp the handle of the left side of his bike after he walks over to it. “And hold onto me. Tight.”

He swings a leg over his bike, situating himself. Cocking his head to the side, he signals to you to come over. You do as you’re told. 

With timid hands, you tightly hold onto his shoulder and hike yourself over his bike. It wobbles, and your heart skips a couple beats at the thought of falling. But Jungkook is calm, and you feel slightly reassured knowing he trusts the bike won’t do as you thought it would.

“H-How tight?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his waist. The softness of his t-shirt makes you feel better. Rather, the feeling of his body underneath your fingertips does. It’s soft and warm, but you feel the ridges of his abs as you test the tightness of your grip.

“Tighter,” he asks. You do.

He shakes his head. You see a wrinkle in his eye, knowing he’s smiling behind his helmet. With his rough hands, he grabs your own, tightening them himself around his waist.

“For dear life, Y/n,” he rubs your hands soothingly afterward. 

You nod, doing as he says. A raspy chuckle leaves his lips at the tightness of your grip. He pulls his biker gloves and his keys out of his pocket before putting them on. With a twist of his key, the bike comes to life with a loud roar, and you somehow grip him tighter. He wishes you could see the blush he has going on right now. It’s worthy of a few lines of humiliation you like to throw at him whenever he’s feeling flustered by you. 

“You ready?” He double checks.

You take a deep breath, telling him yes, which prompts him to lean the bike to the side and kick up the kickstand. He leans forward a little, and you move with him. With a flick of his wrist, you’re moving with him on his bike.

You feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The bike is moving! You’re gripping his t-shirt, probably some of his skin underneath, too, holding on for dear life like he instructed. 

“Kook!” You inhale, weary of the already fast approaching speed. Little do you know he’s barely made it to the local street speed limit.

“Trust me,” he tells you surely.

Looking at the sureness of his hands on the steering, the steadiness of his pace, you decide it’s time you really do. This is Jungkook. He wouldn’t let you backpack unless he knew he was sure enough to handle you as one, unless he knew you’d be safe with him as a rider. He’s been training for this moment. Never proposing the idea until recently, and you knew it was because he finally felt ready to be trusted with your safety.

You’re still a little nervous, but you’ve transferred most of that into your arms and hands. You hold onto him, wrapping your arms fully around his waist, leaning into his back as you let him guide you through the night. He’s guided you through many things in life. Your first tattoo, your first New Years kiss. Your first true love. You trust him with your soul. You love him with all of it, too.

Under his helmet, Jungkook smiles with content when you wrap your hands around him. You’re trusting him. He feels the weight of responsibility. But moreover, the excitement of showing you something he loves. Of showing someone he loves something he loves to do. Riding through the night with wind going against him. The motor of his bike propelling him forward as he rides under the stars. How he’s dreamed of taking you on one of his joyrides. Something in him knew you would like it. 

He goes faster, not daring to enter the highway on your first ride without your permission. But he goes through the local roads, hitting the exact speed of the speed limit given to him. Not going a unit over the number on the signs. You giggle when you realize, knowing the boy you hold onto usually does go a little over, even in the car. But the fact fills you with warmth that he wouldn’t dare play games with speed right now. Not with you on his back. 

After a certain point, you reach a red light, and he puts a foot on the ground to stabilize the bike at the stop.

“How do you like it?” He turns his head slightly to check in with you.

“I love it,” you smile. “I love you.”

His big heart skips, and he looks back at the time on the cross walk to see if he has enough time to kiss you silly from your confession. But you give him no time.

“You can go faster,” you scooch closer to him.

“You sure?” He looks back at you again. The red reflection of the light still beams on his helmet.

You nod. “Take me on the highway, Kook.”

Suddenly, the light turns green.

“Okay,” he shakes his head in disbelief. A small laugh erupts through his chest. When did you get so dauntless? “Better hold on, then.”

You squeal, doing as he says when he accelerates forward. He’s faster this time, still stable and not at all reckless. But the wind catches your clothes enough to know he’s going to do as promised.

The laughs that erupt from your body when he hits the highway is enough to solidify that he’s so totally going to kiss you so silly tonight. Maybe all night, if you’ll let him. 

He stays in the slow lane, going the minimum speed the highway gives, and yet you’re screaming joy and laughing relief out of your lungs as he guides you through the night. Just you and your biker boyfriend.

You trust him enough to take one hand away, letting your fingertips feel the wind of this summer night. But it’s interrupted after a while when Jungkook’s hand returns your own his waist. He pats the top of your palm a few times, telling you to behave, and you do. You hold him tighter, if that’s possible. Scooching closer to him as he finishes the ride off the highway.

The streets start to look familiar, the houses and street names ringing bells in your head. You’re sad to end the ride, honestly. Especially when he pulls up to his townhome, sliding into the parking spot right in front of it all a little too soon.

With steady hands, you sit up from your leaned position, still holding his waist, as he turns off the bike. Jungkook pulls off his helmet, brown messy hair falling around his ears from the release of the protective gear. There’s a bit of sweat forming at the base of his hairline, and you almost went to kiss it if it weren’t for your helmet. Before you can take it off, the man is already standing up, positioning himself in front of you to pull it off himself. You swing your leg around the bike, leaning your feet against the pavement as you stay seated. He stares down at you, tall and handsome as he awaits your approval.

“Well?” He tugs his lips upward. The piercings on his eyebrow dance as he raises it.

“I loved it,” you candor. “I kind of want to suck your cock right now.”

He laughs, crinkled nose and all. That nose nudges with yours when he kisses you. It’s slower than the pecks from before, when he was coaxing you into the joyride with him.

“That much?” He laughs. Those rough hands of his help you stand, the reminder of chest against yours only makes your heart flutter more. “Should have taken you sooner, then.”

“It was perfect, Kook,” you hold his jaw. “I really loved it.”

He looks at the stars in your eyes. The overwhelming presence of you in his biker jacket, holding his spare helmet in one hand and his jaw in the other. God, could you be any more perfect? He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

So he leans into you, holding the back of your neck as he sears his lips onto yours. He’s still cherry flavored, and you can taste it surely when he dips his tongue into your mouth. You envelope it warmly, kissing him with all the love you have. Except you wish you could feel more of him, have his skin against yours. You want the hand that holds his helmet to hold your waist. For your own hand that holds his spare to run through his hair. You want to be on his lap, to look at him from above, sweaty hair and brown eyes. 

He seems to read your mind, detaching your lips only slightly when he whispers against them, “Do you want to go in?”

You nod, watching him smile knowingly. It’s one of those smiles he gives when he’s shy, when he feels bashful and is receiving more attention than he’s used to. It’s one of his cutest smiles to-date. The desire to jump his bones is stronger than it’s been all night.

You follow him as he walks up to the door. He takes your helmet from his hand and balances it on his finger like he does with his own. The key turns, and the smell of his apartment fills your lungs. It smells like him. Like man, but better. A strange thing to think about, as you never associated “man” with smelling good. But he does, somehow. He smells like home. 

You follow in suit, taking your shoes off as he does the same when hooking your helmets on his biking rack next to his door. You lock it for him, and he smiles back at you in a quick thanks.

Quickly, you tread in front of him, becoming taller as you leave him in the shoe divot in front of the door.

“So does this mean you’ll let me take you on a few of my joyrides, then?” he asks you.

“You can take me on all of them if you want to,” you promise.

He comes up to you, destroying the height confidence you had from before when he steps up from the shoe divot.

“I love you,” he cups your jaw with both of his hands this time. Puffy lips connect with yours, they’re hot and slightly damp, firmly kissing you. Passion presses your back against the wall, his frame engulfing your body in love and lust as he kisses you. You can only return the favor, sliding your hands up his clothed chest. He breaks his grasp on your jaw when your hands slide around his neck, prompting him to replace his hands underneath your thighs instead. With no effort at all, as if you weigh a feather in his strong arms, he lifts you around his waist.

The new angle allows you to kiss him deeper, your hand securing around his neck and shoulder. Big hands hold your waist and back. He walks with you, messing around through his apartment, taking you to his bedroom by pure muscle memory as he’s too distracted by the smell your clothes against his skin to focus on anything else. 

For a second, his hand leaves your back to push open his door. The lamp on his bedside table is still on, something he forgot to turn off when he left to meet you at the diner with your friend and her date earlier.

Gently, almost as if you were made of glass, he lays you on his sheets. You still have his biker jacket on, and he swears it’s never looked better on anyone else.

“Biker looks good on you,” he says, admiring you from above.

“Want me to leave it on?” You suggest, an eyebrow raise up at him.

You visibly see his cheeks turn red, and you have your answer before he can even say it. 

“You don’t have to,” he denies. But you’re already sliding it off, taking your shirt and bra underneath before bringing the jacket over your shoulder again and zipping it up halfway.

He looks at you, bewildered and so terribly infatuated before he hides his face in his palm and groans. He’s so unbelievably flustered and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“You’re going to kill me, Y/n,” he muffles in his hand. 

You almost say something, but he’s already trapping your frame underneath his, searing his lips onto the skin of your neck. He bites and sucks at your skin, marking you in his purple and blue love bites. You can’t get enough, tilting your head for more, which he gladly gives you.

You pant lustfully in response when he hits your sweet spot. His lips are delicate at first when he comes across the territory he’s memorized so well. But you know better than to think that he’d stay that way. Not when he knows how it causes you to slide your hands in his hair and pull at his scalp in the way he likes best. Not when he knows you’ll react with the breathy moans he loves so much that flow from your lips at the slightest kiss. So he does just that, feeling your back arch into his chest and your fingers tangle in his hair when he plays with your pleasure. 

“Jungkook,” you flutter. His lips feel so good, like they were made to make you feel like this. 

He kisses down your neck, coming to the base of the zipper you left done halfway up the jacket. Slowly, he unzips it, watching the fabric part ways as gravity takes it to the sides of the bed. The jacket doesn’t completely reveal your breasts though, so he takes matters into his own hands and cups them from underneath.

His stare makes you feel shy, and you inhale sharply when his thumbs brush over your nipples slightly. The reaction makes you even more shy, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide the small moans that leave your mouth.

“So pretty,” he looks up at you. 

You tug at the rim of his t-shirt, begging him to take it off as you lay open chested below him. He only chuckles at the realization, seeing that he’s still fully clothed, way too preoccupied with you to take care of himself.

He does as you ask and more, tugging off his t-shirt and his jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. You feel a wave of slick come through your panties at the sight. Tattoos and muscles stare back at you. You try to ignore the halfy he’s sporting in his boxers, a pure reminder of the activities you wanted to give to him as a thank you for taking you for a ride on his bike.

But he’s quick to turn you down when you sit up to do just that, hiking his fingers under your pants and sliding them down along with your underwear. He throws them somewhere on his floor, falling to his knees to admire you.

“Oh honey,” he marvels at the sight, sliding a slender finger gently up your folds. “You’re soaked.”

You whimper against the back of your hand.

“I-I wanted to suck you off,” you protest, placing a hand on his wrist. Not because you necessarily want him to stop, but because you were scared about how good his touch feels already. “As a thank you.”

“What for, baby?” He stops playing with you, his spare hand cups your thigh. Soothingly, his thumb rubs against your skin, waiting for your answer. 

“For letting me ride with you,” you respond.

“You don’t need me to thank me for that, sweetheart,” he smiles gently. “I’d allow you to ride with me any time you want. I need to thank you for trusting me enough to want to,” he takes your hand in his. Those big doe eyes capture yours, asking for permission with stars in his eyes. “Will you let me?”

Fuck, will this man be the end of you. Of course you will, you’re basically leaking infront of his face.

You nod, and he shyly smiles again. The hand that had previously slipped up your folds springs to life again. This time, it circles your entrance gently, causing you to whimper into your skin. Hot lips envelope your clit, his tongue playing with you softly.

“K-Kook,” you gasp at the feeling. He only hums, his eyes closing when he applies more pressure into your leaking heat. The vibrations from his moans against your clit cause you to arch your back, your head falling back against the sheets when his fingers play in tandem with his tongue. They tempt over your cunt, circling your hole and gathering your juices just enough to make you go crazy.

He detaches his mouth for a brief moment, his lips covered in your heat, red with lust, as he watches you squirm when he replaces his thumb with his tongue over your clit. His mouth always does wonders, but something about his thumb against that ball of nerves makes you clutch onto your orgasm for dear life. It’s firm against you, not too harsh, but just enough to make you feel all of it when he circles it slowly underneath his thumb. Jungkook pulls your hips closer to the edge of the bed, completely in control as you let him thank you. He watches you carefully as he inserts a finger into your aching pussy, seeing how you gasp and grab onto his wrist. But he’s stronger than you, and you’re fully aware of that. You also don’t want him to stop—your grasping onto him a mere reaction for support.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He asks you. He’s so gentle, always so cautious at first. You know at one point he’ll become a sex demon and ram you into the sheets. But he’s being a sweetheart right now, wanting to coax an orgasm or two out of you first. He does it right.

“Mhm,” you solidify. Your answer is weak, too taken over by the sliding of his finger against your walls. 

“Do you want my mouth?” He asks. You know he’s asking permission, well too aware that the combo is a recipe for an orgasm.

“Y-yes, please,” you give it to him.

He chuckles at your polite response, although it takes over his desire in ways that he’s struggling to control. You’re just so sweet to him, always so perfect in every way. He couldn’t ask for anything more. You’re perfect. And you’re his. 

He replaces his thumb with his mouth again, this time moving faster than before. His pace quickens, and he adds another finger to your dripping cunt. The feeling makes you dig your fingers into his hair, pressing him against your pussy. It gets him high, moaning against your cunt shyly as he curls his fingers against your g-spot.

“Jungkook, m’ gonna cum,” you whine into air. Both your hands secure his head on your mound, as if he’d leave before you finish.

He feels you clench around his fingers, so damn tight his cock twitches in his boxers embarrassingly. But he ignores it, taking his mouth off your cunt to give you his thumb again. The change makes you arch your back, the coil in your tummy slowly unraveling beneath him.

“There you go,” he coaxes you. “Good girl.” 

You gush at the nickname. White heat flows around his fingers, and he replaces them with his tongue as you finish against his lips. The sensation is almost too much, your over sensitivity making you whimper and close your thighs around his head to stop him.

“K-Koo,” you whine. “Sensitive.”

He finishes up at your request, swallowing your release sweetly. He leaves you gently to stand up, tossing his boxers somewhere on the floor. You’re left to catch your breath, an arm over your eyes as you gasp into the air of his bedroom. Only when you feel his familiar frame tower over you again do you look up. You’re met with a sweaty man with wet lips and a lovestuck smile plastered on his features.

“You okay?” He kisses your forehead.

“Mm,” is all you have the strength to say.

You feel his thumb pry your mouth open.

“Open for me,” he asks you anyways. You mewl when you see him gathering spit in his mouth. He transfers it to you rudely, and you feel you might just cum again from the sheer force of it. He’s so hot, you feel overwhelmed.

You feel it enough to gain the strength to flip him over when he’s off guard, straddling his hips with his biker jacket on your shoulders.

“What’s this?” He grabs your waist. God, you look so good in his clothes.

“Let me give you a ride this time, Kookie,” you suggest.

He swears he’s never heard anything hotter in his life. It makes his dick leak with precum, your suggestion paired with his favorite girl in his favorite jacket ontop of him.

Your soft hands lay on his chest for support as you lift up your hips. He helps you, grabbing your waist with his big hands. You grab his cock, so big and just for you, lining it up with your wet cunt. You slide it in with a small gasp of your lips, and you swear you see his eyes roll back slightly at the feeling.

“Oh,” you softly gasp as he fills you up. The stretch is so good from this angle, filling every inch of your walls up to the brim. You feel all of him, and he can feel all of you, too. You know it with the way he grips your hips, telling you to give him a minute when you reach the base.

You give him just that, before you test the waters again and start a pace. 

“Fuck,” he tilts his head back. You riding him is an entirely different sensation, his thighs slack and your ass bouncing on his cock as you use him for pleasure. You feel so good, you always feel so good. So perfect for him. 

“Koo,” you mewl as your hands plant for support just below his rib cage. Your hips move perfectly, bouncing on his cock like it’s your day job. It’s exhausting, but it feels too good to stop. You won’t until it’s too much, until you can’t do it anymore.

You see why Jungkook likes to be on top most the time. The view from this angle is sickening. You see the sweat coming down from his scalp and neck. It begs to make entry into his forehead, and you hope at one point it does. Brown hair flops and lays over his skin and the sheets blow him. His Adams apple bobs every time he moans and swallows. You see every scar, mole, and blush this man presents to you. You feel entirely privileged that he is all yours.

He catches you staring, his big hands that you love so much cup your thighs on either side of his hips.

You feel sweaty in his jacket, already knowing it probably smells like sex and sweat already. You feel flush from the heat, and he seems to take note, coming up to hug around your waist with one arm and push off the jacket with the other. His legs dangle over the edge of the bed, supporting you on his lap as the jacket falls to the floor.

“So pretty,” he hums against your lips. His cock throbs inside of you, and you beg for friction, pushing your knees against the mattress and sliding up and down ontop of him again. “You like this, huh? You like fucking my cock?”

“Yes,” you whine against his neck. You feel like a horny teenager, unable to get enough of the man beneath you.

“So needy, baby,” he helps your pace with his hands on your hips. It’s quicker, making you dig your fingers into his scalp as you moan against his neck. “You like riding me? Tell me which one you like to ride more, my bike or my cock. Hm?”

“Y-You,” you respond almost immediately. But he doesn’t seem to like your answer, his hand landing a harsh slap against your ass that causes you to dig your nails into his shoulder.

“I can’t hear you, baby,” he kisses your neck.

You somehow muster the strength to face him again, your hips changing direction slightly to rock back and forth against him. It makes your cheeks feel numb and your fingers tingly, his dick pressing against your g-spot so delicately.

You nudge your nose against his, his cherry flavored lips ever so slightly touching yours.

“You,” you repeat. “I like to ride you more than anything.”

That seems to do it for him, your short ride of dominance ended as his lips take you over. He kisses you until he’s got you in your back again, his body obsessed with your own.

“So perfect for me,” he kisses you. “Let me fuck you good, yeah? My perfect baby.”

You can only nod, ready to come back to your throne as pillow princess. Your boyfriend takes your thighs, hiking them up around his back before he rams into you.

He fucks you like he’s in heat, needy and overwhelmed. His tip hits you in all the right places, causing you to arch your back into his chest. You scratch at his tattoos, chanting his name against his neck as he makes you feel good over and over again.

“J-Jungkook,” you gasp. You try to say your words, but you’re hit with euphoria with every thrust he delivers into your body. “Koo, I-“

“I know, baby,” he shushes you, a kiss to your cheek. “Just cum for me, hm?” He suggests.

“C-Close,” you tell him. The man seems to know your body more than you know it yourself, his lips reattaching to your sweet spot so delicately, it doesn’t match up at all with the way his hips piston into you. “Jungkook,” you gasp when he sucks there. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach returns, and you feel warm throughout your entire body.

With his hair in your face, lips on your neck, and hands caging your body beneath his, you tighten around his cock, unraveling for the second time underneath the man above you.

You feel him twitch, knowing he’s not that far behind you. He moans so sweetly against your neck when you tighten around him, his hips losing rhythm as you cum on his dick.

“Sso tight,” he groans against your neck. “I-Is inside okay?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh against his ear. You’re so fucked out, so obsessed with him. You really don’t know if there’s a request out of his cherry lips you can deny.

“Oh, ah—“ he grips the sheets, balling them up in his fists. “M’ gonna cum.”

You simply run your hand through his hair, gripping it strongly as he thrusts harshly inside you. It overstimulates you, and you pant his name against his scalp as his seed spills out of you in hot, thick ropes. His moans are like music to your ears. So breathy and sweet. You swear you’ve never heard anything more lovely in your life.

The two of you calm down, your sweaty bodies absolutely filthy with summer night air, the smell of motorcycle exhaust, sex, sweat, and cum. It starts to make you cringe after a while. Ever the attentive one, your boyfriend notices and comes up from his place by your neck.

He gives you a soft smile before pecking your lips gently.

“I’ll start the shower,” he offers, pecking your lips again.

You let him leave you for a few seconds. Feeling cold and bare, you get up and search for your clothes. But you’re unable to find them, probably kicked somewhere underneath the bed. You only see Jungkook’s t-shirt and his jacket from before. So you slide the t-shirt over your head, feeling giddy again with the smell of him engulfing your senses.

With sore legs and an aching core, you walk over to the bathroom, hugging your man from behind like you did on his bike just an hour ago.

“This is my favorite part,” you start, holding him tighter.

“Hugging me?” He asks.

“Mhm,” you confirm.

You feel him laugh a bit in your arms, turning around in them only to poke at your frown.

“I like to hold you close. Especially when you go fast suddenly and I get a little scared,” you look up at him.

The shower mist fills up the mirror, and the heat lulls you into the feeling of sleepiness his aftercare always gives you.

“I never want to scare you,” he kisses your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you lean into his palm, his hand holding your face close as he kisses your swollen lips softly.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” he cups your hips.

You open your eyes, watching him eye the shirt you’re wearing.

“Seriously, baby, you gotta stop wearing my clothes,” he slides his t-shirt over your head. “It’s doing things to me.”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll wear your biker suit then,” you wiggle your eyebrows.

“Now that would murder me.”

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

[yok00k]

luxurious

pairing: hellokittylover!oc x boxer!jk

genre: fluff, suggestive

"this kind of love is getting expensive"

warnings: SUGGESTIVE— lingerie shopping, perv thoughts, boob squeezing, kissing

word count: 1,619

series m.list

one of jeongguk’s favorite activities is to go shopping with you. 

to each their own, it may be boring for other boyfriends to go shopping around with their girlfriends but jeongguk seemed to love and enjoy this particular activity. it gives him pleasure to be around and witness you get the things you like. to put it in simple words, thrill and ecstatic looks good on you. 

he loves to get dragged by you to each store at the outdoor shopping center. knowing how excited you get, he speeds up his steps to match with yours so he can still open the doors for you. 

as soon as you enter the first clothing store, you almost always forget that you’re with your boyfriend as you swiftly make your way to feel the texture of the pieces of clothes you find interesting, partially letting his presence slip on your mind. which he understands because you’ve been telling him this ‘define lulu jacket’ and how badly you need them in your closet all-week long. you mention them to him first thing in the morning and before shutting your eyes at night. 

and now here you are. grabbing four different colors of the jackets that you’ve been obsessing on. baby pink, black, dark burgundy, and white. 

“feel how soft they are baby!!” you exclaim, handling the fabric piece near him to feel with his fingertips, which he did. he could care less about shit like this but if his pretty girl cares, he automatically cares for them too. he just nodded in approval. 

he feels like a lost puppy following you around the store but is he complaining? definitely not. him being there next to you is already a blessing.  he also doesn’t mind holding a tall pile of gym clothes that you’re going to try-on later. 

you insist that he wait outside the fitting room. however he strongly insisted, convincing you that he would rather be zero feet away from you than three. plus he can give you his opinion if you’re debating on things. 

of course that’s just all just a false display for him to put up. not completely though. but what is truly rewarding about going shopping with you is he gets to see you try on a variety of clothes. including the fact that you have to undress in front of him. he’s a grown man after all. 

“kookie, what do you think of this one? ” you asked your boyfriend sitting behind you, as you examined the jacket. the cloudy pink material hugs your physique perfectly, and fits like a glove. it defines your waist and curves naturally. 

yet that’s not where his mind is at. the moment he sat down behind you, he can’t help but to stare at your nice plush ass. correction, they stared at him first. the yoga pants also seemed to give justice to defining your butt.  he cleared his throat before speaking. “looks like it’s made for you baby.” he commented, eyes still glued on your behind. 

‘just like me’ he thought. 

“okie, I will definitely be getting this one then.” you innocently agree before trying the other ones. 

after trying on several more clothes in your shopping bag, you’ve decided that you’re only getting two jackets. you just got done paying bills, car payment, and put some money into savings after this recent paycheck. with some leftover money, you can only afford two pieces for now considering that they’re quite pricey. 

“I think I’m ready to check out” you announce to your man as you hang back most of the clothes into the clothing rack. 

“you didn’t like most of them, love?” he curiously asked. you seemed to like each one of them.

“I do kook, I’ll be back for them next time” you said, giving him a soft smile. 

“what about let’s buy everything you like now?” 

“I can’t koo, I have to wait ‘till next paycheck.” delicately explaining to him. 

you understand that jeongguk came from a wealthy family. oftentimes he doesn’t look at prices of things. why would he? when he can confidently afford it. he also gets a big commission and bonuses from boxing since he always wins. in which that money from his wins goes to the things he buys for you. 

“who said anything about spending your money? baby when are you gonna get used to me paying for you?”

and here we go again. 

you took a deep breath before replying, “love, we already talked about this. didn’t we?”

don’t get it twisted, you love receiving gifts and treats from your boyfriend. it gives you pleasure, making. you feel loved even. but not when he does it every single time as if paying for you is his only purpose in your life. he’s still your boyfriend. not sugar daddy. 

you had multiple conversations about it. you kept telling him that he didn’t have to. the result? He continued to insist and never listened. 

“we’ve talked about it and the conclusion every time is that you’ll let me.” he noted, collecting back the clothes that you placed on the rack. “shall we?” 

you argue no further. he wins. always 

you were not surprised when the total cost was as expensive as your apartment rent. just like always, his metal black card is the one that’s getting tapped on the card reader.

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

jeongguk’s most favorite store to go to with you is Victoria’s Secret.

it’s certainly obvious why. this store is like a paradise to him. there’s nothing more exciting than picking lingeries and underwear for his woman. it’s like playing a game where he has to dress his own doll, putting so much energy into finding cute and sexy undies for you although he’ll end up ripping them off. not only that, he’s willing to spend thousands and thousands of dollars to replace them again. 

“jeonggukie, I don’t see a point of buying these when you’re just gonna rip them again.” is what you would say. 

he shrugs it off, showing no hint of bother. the shameless man even initiated to choose the undies that he thought will suit you, earning a few concerning stares from other shoppers and couples. 

they must be envious. he thinks. but jeongguk is a man that has his priorities straight. he’s the only one who will see these undergarments being worn by you. nobody will be able to take them off you or what’s even better, rip them off you. no one else. only him is able to fuck you on them. why would he care what people would think? zero fucks were given as he continued to gather more of the good stuff. 

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

“hmm?” you hummed, looking at his eyes in the reflection of the full body mirror in the intimate fitting room, fishing for some type of comment on the dark burgundy laced lingerie that you tried on for him. soft and delicate, just like you. it’s thin, almost see through. most importantly: is very low cut showing so much cleavage, barely covering anything. 

those large and rough fingertips of his runned through the flimsy material. from the side of your lower pelvis, his two huge palms made their way to give your tits a good squeeze. he took his precious time to admire how heavenly you looked. the color of the chosen lingerie compliments your skin tone divinely. it’s the way it sits right on your body. 

“this coming home with us” he wearily muttered under his breath. 

“but koo, this one is too pricey. $200 for this? maybe we can find a cheaper one” you faltered before glancing down at the white price tag. 

“I love this one though, I want this, the baby pink one, and the white one” he knew that those two were your favorite color. 

“jeongguk it’s too much,” you protested. “don’t want you spending more money on me”

your boyfriend just chuckled, shaking his head. spending a couple of grands from his bank account won’t hurt anybody, it’s barely worth a coin to him. 

“love if you’re worried that I will go broke from buying you these things, I’m assuring you now that I got it all covered okay?” he whispered, his index finger lifted your chin to look up to him.

“but it’s not only that koo..” you started, guilt taking over you. you’re very aware that you won’t be able to pay him anytime soon. not with the amount of money he has spent and will spend on you. 

“you’re worried that you can’t pay me back?” he muttered, planting kisses on the side of your neck. 

the gentleman can read you like a book. by fixing his gaze into your eyes and the tone in your voice, he can discern how you feel or what you’re thinking. jeongguk observes and studies you like his favorite subject. 

he paused the kisses, “I’ll never ask you to pay me back and you know this.” he mumbled softly before pressing his lips into your smooth skin.

“you wanna insist on paying me back baby? there’s different ways to pay back. hmm?” you can feel him smirking beneath you.  from smooches, he intensifies his seductive actions by licking and sucking one weak spot on your neck, resulting in you to produce a faint moan. 

at this point, he’s got you wrapped around his fingers. jeongguk knew how and where to hit your weak points. you’ve got him too. simply by being submissive to him. 

before the temptation took completely over, he stopped. thanks to his strong self-control for keeping his sexual desire under control.  

“we’ll check these out then where do you want to go next love? Chanel? LV? Dior?”

want to read more?: my_m.list

[prettypetals3]

What’s the soulmate story about jungkook where you need to find your soulmate to see color but in the beginning he’s in love with his gf who finds her soulmate and reveals she sees color, he says the tulips are orange but she tells him they’re black

[dillydandydaisy]

Cursed in your Orbit

Part 1

New city, same broke Y/N.

YN screeched, “Five hundred dollars?!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t see platinum joints in the walls or gold bricks lining the floors!”

She knew she was being dramatic, but someone had to say it.

The realtor, a guy with sharp sun-kissed features and dressed in all-black urban streetwear, squinted at her like she’d never paid rent before. “And how much did you pay for your last place, little lady?”

“Four hundred. For a 900 square foot concrete box with more holes than I have fingers. Oh, and a 24/7 view of my big-bellied neighbour on life support who thought he was the pornstar of my dreams. Never forgot to flaunt those hairy curves.”

The sunny man visibly gagged, shaking his head. “Right. So, compared to that, this place is a steal. No pervy neighbors. One-bedroom, kitchen, attached bath. Plus, a basement you could use for work or...”

He gave her a once-over. Twice.

...garage. Not that you have a car."

Rude. Also not wrong. Still rude.

Unbothered, he leaned back against the doorway, arms crossed. “And for your kind of work? This area is a gold mine.”

She blinked. “Therapy?”

“Exactly.” His eyes gleamed in the sunlight filtering through the cracked window. “A guy got murdered here just last week. Cold blood.”

Red flag. Huge one. Waving right in her face. 4K

He leaned in, like this was the best sales pitch in the world. “Low-cost living, high trauma. Gym down the street full of men and women with emotional damage and zero coping skills. Gangsters, goons, unhealed childhoods. You’re surrounded by walking case studies. Play it smart, you’ll be cashing in.”

Y/N nodded slowly, while her mind spun faster than the cracked ceiling fan above.

Later, at a dingy café with even dingier coffee, Y/N pulled out a napkin and scribbled a list:

Pros:

Cheap rent

No hairy curve-flashing neighbors

Free crime stories for dinner talk

Work in basement = cool

Cons:

Possible ghost

Definite murder

Gym full of potential murderers

May die

She sipped the watery coffee. It tasted like regret. Or maybe beggars really can’t be choosers.

🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫

Twenty-four floors above the crumbling city, Jungkook lounged in his leather chair, one boot resting casually on the windowsill. In his tattooed hand, a glass of dark liquor swirled as neon lights flickered across his face, cutting shadows into the sharp angles of his jaw. The skyline blinked like it owed him money.

Things were going too well.

“They’re celebrating, Taehyung,” he muttered, watching the grainy feed on the screen. His enemy, Brad's crew, hooting around crates like they’d just unlocked military-grade loot in a video game. “Those dumbasses think they scored premium Russian stock.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Premium? Bro, I wouldn’t trust those guns to shoot a water balloon from two feet. They jam if you sneeze near ’em.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook grinned, cruel and gleaming. “Third-grade polymer, stuffed with recycled metal, painted like they’ve seen war. And the cherry on top? They paid for it with a loan… from a Shell company under my false name. 50% interest rate. But of course, they don’t know that yet.”

Taehyung raised a brow, smirking. “Using your money to buy your fake guns to wage war against you. That’s fucking Shakespearean.”

“Nah,” Jungkook said, sipping slow, “that’s just business with extra glitter.”

A waitress dressed skimpily slid by, carrying whiskey and dead dreams. No one looked at her. The room was full of better distractions: drugs, drinks, bodies, and sin. But for Jungkook, the real high came from watching stupid men dig their own graves with polished shovels.

He rewound the video. One of Brad's men held a rifle to the light, nodding like it was divine. Jungkook hit record. “Make sure we film the moment these toys jam on them. I want a full fucking highlight reel. Send it to them with a fruit basket later.”

Taehyung snorted. “Operation Dumbass Deluxe in full swing.”

“Oh yeah,” Jungkook said, voice low and smug. “And get this...before they took the guns, they signed a supply agreement. Buried clause, bottom line, unread. They basically sold me the rights to two coastal cities if they default.”

“You’re kidding.”

“They won’t read it until it’s already mine.”

Silence fell, heavy, the kind that comes just before gunshots or bad decisions.

Taehyung chuckled. “You’re a bastard.”

Jungkook smiled slow and shark-like. “But an efficient one.”

He turned back to the window. The city looked small from up here. Like something he could fold and put in his pocket.

“Double the security on the west blocks. When these idiots realize the guns don’t work, they’ll panic. Try to retaliate...fast and dirty.”

“Landmines or snipers?”

“Both. And a drone. I want a drone hovering over them playing circus music when they try to fire those guns.”

Taehyung was still laughing when he left the room.

Jungkook stayed behind, watching the skyline like a man admiring his own reflection. This city ran on blood and bad decisions, and he owned both.

The floor below thumped with bass and bodies. His men were getting high on power, flesh, and illusions. But he? He got high on control.

And somewhere, way across the city, a young therapist with a cracked phone, student debts, and a chip on her shoulder was signing a lease.

Did she know the building sat on the edge of a war zone?

Did she know her future clients included half the city’s most broken criminals?

Not yet. Would it change her mind if she knew her place was built on the hotspot of an active volcano dressed as a human?

Nope.

After all, student debts don’t pay themselves.

🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫🎀🔫

[kikiswriting7]

Seoul Connection ✈︎ JJK ✈︎ PJM

CHAPTER 5

Authors note: Its a big one hahah my hand slipped You are not exactly sure how you ended up here. You are sitting in the middle of Yoshi and Seo-Jun while Sana throws her head back laughing and leans against Mitsuki. You became friends during the week that had passed, as Yoshi was in the same position as you — but for another group.

The room buzzes with easy conversation and half-eaten snacks scattered across the low table in front of you. Someone’s Bluetooth speaker is playing some upbeat music in the background, the kind that makes everything feel like a movie montage.

You glance at Yoshi, who’s balancing a chopstick on her upper lip like a walrus. She grins when she catches your eye and leans closer, whispering, “You realize we’ve completely infiltrated their inner circle, right?”

You snort. “You make it sound like we’re on a spy mission.”

She raises a brow. “Aren’t we?”

Seo-Jun, catching your exchange, shakes his head with a smile and passes you the last shrimp chip. “Better eat it before Mitsuki sees.”

“Hey!” Mitsuki calls from across the couch. “I heard that!”

Sana giggles harder and nearly spills her drink, slapping Mitsuki’s arm like it’s her fault she finds everything this funny. You realize your cheeks hurt from smiling, which surprises you. You hadn’t expected this — to feel so relaxed, so included — not insuch a short time.

For a moment, you let yourself soak it in: the warm press of Yoshi’s shoulder against yours, Seo-Jun’s dry humor, Sana’s uncontainable laughter, the distant sound of someone starting to sing along off-key.

You met Yoshi first — your unexpected lifeline in a sea of chaos, when both of you showed up on site for a dance challenge between one of ‘your boys’ and hers, you both wide-eyed and unsure where to even stand. She was going through the same thing but just with another group, and instantly took you under her wing, as the social butterfly she is.

Through her, you met Mitsuki — warm, naturally chaotic, and somehow always both the loudest and most observant in the room. Mitsuki brought you into the fold without hesitation, acting like you’d always been part of their circle.

And with Mitsuki came Seo-Jun and Sana.

Seo-Jun, calm and a little blunt, had seemed intimidating at first. It took you a while to realize his quietness wasn’t disinterest — just that he didn’t feel the need to talk unless he had something worth saying. He’s already a full-time employee, someone who knows the ropes and looks at your current internship with a quiet sort of amusement.

Sana is different. Sunshine with a sharp edge. She works with BTS too, but in a role that doesn’t have her glued to them 24/7 like yours. She's seen things, knows things, but never flaunts it — instead, she focuses on everyone else, drawing people in with ease, like laughter is something she hands out on demand.

A beat passes. Then two.

And just when the moment starts to settle into a comforting kind of quiet, Sana suddenly gasps. “Truth or dare.”

Groans ripple around the room. Seo-Jun immediately throws his head back against the couch cushion. “No.”

“Yes,” Sana insists, sitting up and pointing at him with dramatic flair. “You are too mysterious for your own good. I need answers.”

“I vote yes,” Mitsuki says, raising his hand like they’re in a board meeting.

“Traitor,” Seo-Jun mutters.

Yoshi’s already grinning and sitting up straight  “Alright. But if we’re doing this, we go full chaos mode.”

“I’m scared,” you say, laughing.

“You should be,” Yoshi replies without missing a beat.

Before long, the circle is formed. Someone dims the lights. Sana finds a bottle to spin — of course she does — and the first few rounds are harmless: sing the chorus of a guilty pleasure song, show the last meme you saved, attempt to do a handstand (which goes horribly for Mitsuki and earns loud applause anyway).

Then the bottle spins and lands on you.

“Truth or dare?” Sana asks, eyes twinkling like she’s already plotting your downfall.

You hesitate. “Truth.”

Groans again. “Boring!” Yoshi yells, but you shrug at him. You’re still trying to preserve what little dignity you have left.

Sana doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright,” she says, smirking. “Who in this room did you expect not to like when you first met them?”

The room erupts in oooooohs.

You freeze, mouth parting slightly. “What kind of loaded question—?”

“Answer it!” Mitsuki cackles.

Your gaze flicks to Seo-Jun, who’s watching you calmly over the rim of his drink. To Sana, who’s definitely enjoying this. To Yoshi, who just looks way too entertained.

You inhale, then blurt out, “Seo-Jun.”

More gasps. Even a bit of fake betrayal from Mitsuki, though he wasn’t even mentioned.

Seo-Jun raises a brow. “Fair. I thought you were too polite to be real.”

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he says, setting his drink down. “But then I heard you curse under your breath in the elevator on Thursday and figured you were human.”

The group erupts into laughter again, but this time, it feels warmer. Softer.

Your shoulders relax without you realizing it.

You catch Seo-Jun looking at you, though not saying anything more — just watching, like he sees something that makes him smile quietly to himself.

You’re not sure what that means.

But the bottle is spinning again, and for now, you don’t ask. As the bottle lands on Mitsuki, who groans dramatically as Sana claps like a game show host.

“Truth or dare?” she asks, grinning wickedly.

“Dare,” Mitsuki says, sitting up straighter like she’s bracing for impact.

“I dare you,” Sana says, eyes gleaming, “to post an Insta story with the caption ‘catch flights not feelings’ while holding Seo-Jun’s hand.”

The room erupts. Even Seo-Jun laughs, half covering his face with his sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze. “That’s so 2016.”

“But kind of iconic,” Yoshi adds, snorting into her drink.

Mitsuki plays along, grabs Seo-Jun’s reluctant hand and strikes a peace-sign pose while Sana fumbles for her phone. You swear your cheeks ache from how much you’ve smiled tonight.

When it’s Yoshi’s turn next, she picks truth. Sana narrows her eyes like she’s about to ask something deeply invasive, but instead says, “What’s something you haven’t told anyone since arriving here?”

Yoshi falls quiet.

Not in a tense way — more thoughtful. She stares at the ceiling for a moment, then says softly, “That I almost didn’t come. I was scared I’d mess everything up. That I wouldn’t find anyone who… got me.”

No one says anything right away, and the silence feels delicate. Then you reach over and squeeze her hand, and she looks over with a soft smile.

“Well, that was dumb,” you say, teasing gently. “You’re everyone's favorite already.”

“Speak for yourself,” Seo-Jun mutters, but there’s no real heat in it.

Yoshi squeezes your hand back.

It’s odd, you think. How fast people can go from strangers to comfort zones. How easy it is to laugh with them like you’ve known them longer than a week.

Sana yawns loudly and announces, “Alright, I’m claiming this couch and Mitsuki is my pillow.”

Everyone begins shifting around, the game dissolving into sleepy chatter and late-night laziness. You find yourself tucked next to Yoshi again as the group stretches out across the room in various stages of exhaustion.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she says suddenly, just loud enough for you to hear.

You glance at her, a little surprised.

“Me too,” you say, quieter still.

And for the first time since you got here, you feel like maybe — just maybe — you belong too.

Monday hits hard, but the studio buzzes with energy before you’ve even had your coffee. Comebacks do that, apparently—everyone’s running on nerves, caffeine, and a little too much hairspray.

You’re balancing a tablet and three paper schedules when someone taps your arm.

“Are you part-time barista now, too?” Jin jokes, eyeing the coffee tray in your other hand.

You laugh. “Only for the cranky and the overworked.”

“Perfect,” he says, snagging one before you can answer.

Jungkook’s sitting on the couch nearby, hoodie up, absently watching rehearsal footage on a monitor. He doesn’t say anything, but you catch him glancing your way. When you set a coffee beside him, he looks up—brief eye contact, a quiet “thanks,” and then back to the screen.

Jimin walks in a minute later, beaming like he hasn’t just danced for six hours straight.

“Morning,” he says brightly, and your name rolls off his tongue like he’s said it a hundred times. “You survived the weekend?”

“Barely,” you say. “I think Yoshi broke my spine. Or maybe Mitsuki’s couch did.”

He laughs, leaning in like it’s a private joke. “You should’ve called me. I would’ve rescued you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “With what? Your limited cooking skills and anime recommendations?”

“Exactly.”

Behind him, Taehyung’s dragging a chair into the corner. Sana stands beside him, flipping through notes, her eyes narrowing in concentration. You catch her eye, and she gives you a quick, subtle nod—shared understanding between coworkers in the same storm.

Namjoon enters mid-call, Yoongi trailing behind him with a snack in hand. Hoseok’s already stretching out by the mirrors. The energy shifts when they’re all in one space—bigger, louder, like the air itself rearranges to make room for them.

You hover near the monitor, watching choreography edits with the rest of the team, but you feel it when someone steps beside you.

Jungkook.

He doesn’t speak, just folds his arms and watches the footage like you do. You steal a glance at him—his profile calm, unreadable—and then look away again.

It’s like that with him. Presence without pressure. Silence that feels just full enough.

“Make sure they get a water break in ten,” Sana says, nodding toward the guys. You nod back and pull out your phone to set a reminder.

Jimin’s voice carries from across the room, teasing Hoseok about his messy bun. The others laugh.

You’re seated on the floor near the back wall of the dance studio, finishing up notes on your tablet when Hoseok flops down beside you, dramatically wiping sweat from his forehead.

“You survived,” he says, voice breathless but teasing. “We almost didn’t.”

You glance up from your screen. “You say that every rehearsal.”

“Because it’s true every time,” he grins. “This choreo is no joke. Try doing it yourself them come talk to me.” You roll your eyes playfully at his comment and go back to what you were working on.

On the floor nearby, Jungkook is lying flat on his back, shirt damp, chest rising and falling steadily as he recovers from the last run-through. Jimin’s sitting beside him, chugging water while teasing Taehyung about a missed count. Namjoon scrolls through something on his phone, and Jin’s rifling through the snack box like it owes him something.

You’re technically not needed for another fifteen minutes, but no one seems to mind you staying.

“You’ve got the look,” Yoongi says from across the room, pointing a finger at you without looking up from his notes.

“The look?” You question him, your gaze curious to what hes so entertained by his notes.

“The ‘what did I sign up for’ look.”

You smile. “You mean the ‘I’ve never sweat this much from watching other people dance’ look?”

He lets out a low laugh. “Yeah. That one.”

Jimin, overhearing, scoots a little closer, pointing at the notes in your lap. “Are those for the team or for us?”

“Team. But I can make a few copies if you promise not to crumple them into your bag.”

“No promises,” Jin calls from the snack pile.

Jungkook finally sits up, arms propped on his knees. “She’s already better than half the staff we’ve had.”

You blink at the unexpected compliment, and he meets your eyes just briefly before looking away again, like he didn’t mean for it to come out so bluntly.

Taehyung nudges your foot with his own, grinning. “Look at you, making fans.”

“Should I start a club?” you tease trying to go back to what you were doing.

Hoseok lifts his head. “Too late. We’ve already named it.”

“Oh?”

“The Y/N Protection Squad,” he says proudly. “It’s exclusive. Invitation only.”

“She didn’t even ask to be protected,” Namjoon says without looking up.

“Exactly,” Taehyung adds. “That’s why it’s a squad. She doesn’t even know we’re protecting her.”

They’re all talking at once now, bouncing off each other like it’s just another inside joke in a long list you haven’t fully caught up with yet—but the difference now is that they’re pulling you into it. Not watching from a distance. Not treating you like a nobody, which is exactly like you thought it would be. Its exactly what internships are, right? You are the corporate slave that does the job nobody wants to do. Like making photocopies of useless papers. But here…. Its comfortable. Letting you exist in their space as one of them.

Even Jungkook, who doesn’t say much, offers you his unopened bottle of water before getting up and muttering something about changing his shirt.

You take it, not because you’re thirsty—but because it’s the first time he’s handed you something without being askedsince you arrived.

Later, as they trickle out one by one, Jimin lingers.

“You staying late again?”

“Probably,” you say, glancing at the untouched parts of your schedule.

He offers a sympathetic smile. “Don’t work too hard. You’re allowed to like this, you know.”

You nod, unsure of how to answer that. Because you do like it.

You like them.

And you’re starting to think they might like you too.

It’s late. The kind of late where most of the building has gone quiet, lights dimmed in the hallways, and even the vending machines seem like they’ve powered down for the night.

You were just coming back for your badge—you’d left it in the sound room during the last meeting. It should’ve been a two-minute detour. In and out. No big deal.

But then, you hear something.

Low voices. Close. Around the corner near the back stairwell—the one barely anyone uses unless they’re avoiding being seen.

You pause, footsteps going still against the polished floor.

“Come on,” a girl’s voice says—soft but sharp at the edges. “You said tonight.”

“I didn’t say yes,” Jungkook’s voice answers, and your chest goes still. “I said maybe.”

There’s a shift in the air, like you’ve walked into something private. And yet, your feet don’t move.

The girl scoffs, not loud enough to echo. “You always say maybe. Then you disappear.”

“I told you,” he says, quieter now, like he’s trying not to be overheard. “I don’t want anyone finding out.”

“So you are embarrassed.”

“No.” The word comes fast. Too fast. Then slower: “It’s not like that.”

It’s hard to tell what exactly stings in that moment—but something does. A prickling behind your ribs, heat rising slowly in your chest like a wave you weren’t expecting. You don’t understand why you’re still standing here. Why your legs won’t move. Why hearing his voice like this makes your throat tighten.

The girl speaks again. “Then what is it like, Jungkook?”

There’s silence for a beat.

And then, almost reluctantly, he says, “It’s just not… serious.”

Something drops in your stomach.

The girl lets out a sigh—a little too theatrical—and steps closer. You hear her heels click softly. “Well, if it’s not serious,” she murmurs, “then why do you always act like we’re doing something wrong?”

You lean the slightest bit forward, and your shoulder brushes the wall. A quiet sound—but enough.

Jungkook turns.

His eyes find yours immediately, and something in his expression shifts—like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, even if technically, he hasn’t done anything at all.

The girl follows his gaze and straightens, smoothing her shirt like it matters.

You don’t say anything.

You just stand there, caught in the strangest emotion you can’t name. You aren’t angry. You aren’t hurt. Not really. But there’s this weird hollow ache spreading in your chest—something close to disappointment, maybe. Or confusion. Or something heavier that you don’t want to examine too closely.

You force yourself to nod with a very weird and fake smile. Not cold, not warm. Just… neutral. Like you didn’t hear enough to matter. Like you’re okay.—You’re not sure if you are.

You walk away before he can say anything. His voice catches on your name, soft and uncertain.

But you don’t turn around.

You keep your head down when you walk into the BTS floor the next morning, hoping no one will notice the way you didn’t sleep much. There’s a dull pressure behind your eyes, but you’ve tucked your hair neatly back and thrown on a clean hoodie, so maybe that’s enough to make it through the day.

Most of the guys are already there—scattered across the space, talking over breakfast or lounging on the couches with their phones. The usual quiet chaos.

You pretend not to scan the room.

He’s there.

Jungkook’s standing by the fridge, bent slightly as he digs around for a drink. He’s wearing a black T-shirt, headphones looped around his neck, hair pushed back like he didn’t try too hard—but not messy, either.

He looks like he always does.

Except he doesn’t.

Because he’s watching you. Quietly. From the corner of his eye, like he’s been doing it for a while.

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze.

It’s brief—half a second, maybe less—but your stomach twists anyway. He straightens up quickly, drink forgotten in his hand, lips parting like he’s about to say something.

But you turn away.

You’re not trying to be dramatic. You’re just not ready.

Not for his explanation, not for his shrug, not for whatever careful thing he might say to smooth it over. You don’t want to hear him say its nothing, not when it clearly meant something that he didn’t want anyone to know.

You slide into your usual spot near the monitors and pull out your tablet, focusing on anything but him.

The air feels weird all morning.

He doesn’t come near you.

But you feel him. His glances. His hesitation. The way his voice drops when he talks to other people near you, like he’s careful not to be too loud. Like if he sounds normal, it might make everything worse.

Jimin ends up next to you at one point, joking about how tired he is, and when you laugh—just enough to be polite—you don’t miss the way Jungkook’s posture tightens across the room.

You don’t know if it’s guilt or something else.

And you don’t ask.

Because if he really wanted to talk to you… he would’ve done it by now.

You’re sitting on the far side of the room, headphones half-on as you skim through a rough cut of their behind-the-scenes footage. They’re gathered just across the room on the lounge couches, sprawled out and tossing snacks between themselves like it’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, not a packed weekday.

It’s nice. Comfortable. Loud.

Until it isn’t.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says around a mouthful of chips, “didn’t Jungkook sneak out after dinner last week?”

You don’t react.

At least, not on the outside.

Namjoon looks up from his phone. “Oh yeah, you disappeared. You were gone like an hour.”

“An hour?” Jimin laughs. “Bro was gone the whole night.”

You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your stylus like nothing’s shifted. But the room tilts slightly—something inside you shrinking, pulling taut like a wire.

Jungkook groans softly, but there’s a note of defensiveness under it. “Don’t start.”

“Wait,” Jin says, leaning in. “Was it that girl? The one from—what was it—like a month ago?”

You pause your video. Just for a second. Then restart it. Keep pretending.

“Not important,” Jungkook says quickly. It’s not embarrassed. It’s… careful.

“She’s cute,” Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing serious, right?”

“No,” Jungkook mutters. “Not serious.”

There’s laughter. A few jokes tossed around.

No one’s being mean. No one’s trying to hurt anybody. It’s just boys talking.

But still, something inside you curls in on itself.

You don’t know why your fingers feel colder. Why your throat’s dry. Why every version of “not serious” echoes louder than the last.

You hadn’t thought about him much today. Had buried it, tucked it neatly behind to-do lists and edits and that new note you made for their stage lighting.

But now he’s right there again. Not looking at you. Talking like you’re not listening.

And maybe that’s the part that stings the most.

Not because you wanted him to like you.

You swallow and adjust your headphones higher on your ears, blocking out the rest of it.

The screen in front of you flickers into a new frame. Taehyung laughing into the camera, someone offscreen cracking up behind it.

You force yourself to focus. Pretend you didn’t hear anything at all. -- You’re getting good at that.

It’s weird how easily Jungkook slips back into being himself.

The next day, he’s in the studio early, hoodie slung loose over his shoulders, hair still wet from a rushed shower. You spot him the second you walk in—he’s balancing a paper cup of iced coffee on his knee, headphones around his neck, half-humming something under his breath while scrolling through his phone.

He glances up when you enter.

And smiles.

Not forced. Not apologetic.

Just—bright. Like nothing’s strange. Like you’re still in that awkward-soft place from a week ago where you were just getting used to each other.

“Morning,” he says, sing-song and cheerful.

You blink. “Morning.”

You sit at the far end of the work table and open your laptop. He doesn’t move toward you, but he watches. Just for a second. Then glances away like he doesn’t want to make it weird.

Later, he offers you a snack—just slides it across the table with a nudge and a grin.

You nod politely. “Thanks.”

Still no eye contact.

He keeps trying, though.

Little things.

He tosses a foamball at you when the room gets quiet. It bounces off your desk and lands at your feet. You blink down at it, expression unreadable, and when you look up, he’s waiting with that sheepish smile, like come on, smile back.

You don’t.

Not because you’re mad. You just… can’t.

It feels strange. Too familiar.

He doesn’t stop, though. Not even when it becomes obvious that you’re not meeting him halfway.

At one point, when most of the others are gone, he passes behind your chair to get to the water dispenser. You feel him slow. Hover.

“You okay?” he asks.

It’s soft. Kind. Genuinely concerned.

And it makes your chest ache.

You force a tiny smile, eyes still on your screen. “Just tired.”

He hesitates. Then lightly taps the back of your chair with his knuckles. “Don’t burn yourself out.”

You nod once.

He walks away.

And that’s the thing—you want to believe he means well. That he’s just being friendly, that this is who he is.

But it’s hard to separate his warmth from the ache he left in you.

Harder still to pretend that his attention doesn’t feel like salt on a wound you’re trying not to name.

The thing is—he doesn’t stop.

Over the next few days, Jungkook finds little excuses to be around you. He’s not pushy. He’s not obvious. But he’s there.

And he’s always nice.

Too nice.

He compliments your hoodie on thursday, even though you’re pretty sure you’ve worn it before and he’s never mentioned it.

He brings in an extra drink “by accident” and just happens to hand it to you.

He jokes with you when the group teases Jin. Bumps your shoulder when something funny happens. Looks your way first when Taehyung says something ridiculous, like the two of you are sharing a private joke even though you’re barely reacting.

It’s not overbearing.

But it’s constant.

And it’s confusing.

Because now your stomach twists for a whole new reason. Not from seeing him with someone else. Not from the ache of being invisible.

But from the way he keeps acting like you’re not.

Like he wants to be close. Like he’s trying to pull you back in without ever saying anything out loud.

And you hate that it’s working, even just a little.

You hate that when he calls your name in that soft, playful way—“Y/N-ahhh”—you still look up without thinking.

You hate that you want to ask him why he’s being so warm when he knows you caught him red handed.

You hate that you don’t even know who she was.

And you really hate that it doesn’t make it easier.

Because you’re still just the girl in the room who’s not supposed to feel anything.

You’re supposed to be invisible.

Professional.

Neutral.

But your smile is thinner now. Your replies quieter. And sometimes, when you laugh at one of his jokes because everyone else is laughing too, you catch him looking at you like he’s waiting for more.

Like he can feel it too—the distance that wasn’t there before.

But he doesn’t say anything about it.

He just keeps showing up, softer than he needs to be, kinder than you know how to accept.

And you keep pretending that it doesn’t affect you at all.

It Friday and guess what? You are doing over hours again. “at least its some extra money” you think to yourself.

Most of the staff have trickled out, but a handful of you are still in the studio, waiting for a delivery, finishing edits, or—if you’re Taehyung—sitting upside down on the couch, legs thrown over the backrest like it’s the most normal way to exist.

Jungkook’s nearby too, playing with a Rubik’s cube like it owes him money. You’ve barely spoken today—just your usual hello, a shared glance across the room when someone spilled coffee, the kind of silent acknowledgement that you’ve both become good at.

You’re typing notes into your laptop when Sana walks past, tossing a grin your way.

“She’s still working,” she calls out to the room. “Y/N wins Employee of the Month.”

Taehyung peeks over the couch. “Only because Jungkook’s not eligible. Too much favoritism.”

Jungkook makes a mock-wounded sound. “What? I’m a model coworker.”

Taehyung smirks and points his Rubik’s cube at you. “Nah, he’s just trying to stay on Y/N’s good side. Ever since she tamed the dragon.”

Someone snorts—maybe Sana. Maybe Hoseok, who just walked in with a snack.

You smile without looking up. “Right. He’s terrified of me. That’s why he brings me coffee. Classic fear response.”

Taehyung cackles. “See? You admit it!”

You glance up then, just in time to catch Jungkook watching you, that boyish grin already tugging at his lips.

He shakes his head. “You’re so dramatic.”

You flash him a crooked smile. “I’m just saying—if I had a fan club, I think you’d be president.”

“Wow.” He leans back in his chair, feigning offense. “Didn’t realize I was so obvious.”

You shrug, turning back to your screen. “That’s okay. I’m used to being everyone’s emotional support intern.”

More laughter.

The moment passes.

But when you sneak a glance at Jungkook again—he’s still smiling.

Still looking at you.

Like the cold air between you never existed.

And somehow, that smile stings worse than silence.

Your weekend passed too fast even though you were doing absolutely nothing just rotting in bed, watching bad movies while facetiming with Evi.  And now you’re in one of the conference rooms, folding over a stack of notes while your phone buzzes uselessly beside you. Another group rehearsal is happening a few floors up, but you weren’t asked to be there today. You tell yourself that’s a good thing.

You don’t really believe it.

“You okay?”

Seo-Jun’s voice cuts through the silence gently, like he’s already halfway sure you’re not.

You glance up. He’s leaning in the doorway with two coffees in hand.

You try for a smile. “Am I that obvious?”

He shrugs and walks in, offering you one of the cups. “Only when you stare at the same sticky note for five minutes straight.”

You accept the drink with a quiet “Thanks,” then nod toward his work badge. “Shouldn’t you be off being administrative somewhere?”

He grins. “Delegated. Perks of being useful.”

You laugh, just a little. He’s always been easy to talk to—funny without pushing, smart without showing off. He sits across from you now like he has all the time in the world.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you say after a beat.

“Uh-huh.” He sips his coffee, eyes still on you. “Fine with a capital not.”

You roll your eyes but don’t deny it.

He doesn’t push, just lets the silence stretch out, quiet and unthreatening.

Eventually, you sigh. “I’m just…a bit tired.”

“From what? Work?”

You shrug. “Everything. I don’t know. It has been a lot to process”

There’s a beat of quiet.

He nods like he understands anyway. “Well… maybe you should try not carrying all of it alone.”

You glance at him. He’s not joking. There’s a softness in his eyes, calm and steady.

You smile, small. “Was that supposed to be deep?”

He smirks. “Give me a break, I don’t do this kind of pep talk often.”

You shake your head, but the smile lingers a little longer this time.

Later that day, you’re in the break room with Sana and Mitsuki when the topic circles back, as it always does.

“He’s cute, you know,” Mitsuki says, nodding toward the hallway where Seo-Jun had just walked by.

You feign ignorance. “Who?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Mitsuki nudges you with her shoulder against yours.

Sana nudges your side. “He’s been circling for weeks. He even offered to help you carry equipment last time. Voluntarily.”

You groan. “You’re both terrible. Hes just being nice. And it was heavy.” You try to defend it.

“Terrible and correct,” Sana says with a grin. “Look, maybe it’s okay to let someone be good to you.”

You don’t respond right away.

Mitsuki raises an eyebrow. “You always act like you’re waiting for some other shoe to drop.”

“I’m not,” you say. Too quick. Too defensive.

Sana gives you a look—soft, not judging. “No one’s asking you to fall headfirst. Just… don’t shut the door before it opens.”

You nod, but your stomach twists.

Not because of Seo-Jun.

But because you don’t know what it means to be open anymore. Or what version of yourself you’d even let someone get close to.

You don’t see Jungkook until the next day, when you’re walking out of a team meeting and Seo-Jun jokes quietly beside you about running off together to avoid editing deadlines. He says it loud enough to get a laugh—and you catch Jungkook just a few feet away, pausing mid-sentence with Taehyung.

His eyes flick to you. Then to Seo-Jun.

His smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

Later, Jimin is quieter than usual too. Especially when Seo-Jun shows up again with extra snacks “just in case you skipped lunch.”

You say thank you.

You see it in Jimin’s face—that flicker of something.

But no one says anything.

Not yet.

You’re walking alongside Seo-Jun after a team sync, arms full of folders and checklists. He’s making some ridiculous joke about running away to Bali with company funds and blaming it on a scheduling error. You roll your eyes, laughing, and nudge him with your elbow. He nudges you back, playful, easy.

It’s the kind of banter that’s harmless on the surface. But you feel the eyes on you the moment you round the corner.

Jungkook is standing near the door to the main rehearsal room, talking to Taehyung and someone from sound.

He’s mid-sentence when he sees you.

His gaze flicks down to the way your arm brushes Seo-Jun’s, then back up to your face. You’re still smiling when you meet his eyes—until you realize the smile isn’t mirrored.

Not fully.

Taehyung says something that makes Jungkook blink, refocus. He nods, laughs a little, but it’s off. Like a scene slightly out of sync.

You keep walking, heartbeat suddenly not where it belongs. Seo-Jun doesn’t seem to notice the shift in you.

But Jimin does.

Later that afternoon, you’re back in the editing suite sorting through a cluster of schedules when the door cracks open.

“Yo,” Jimin says, poking his head in. “Got a sec?”

You motion to the mess in front of you. “Technically, no. What’s up?”

He slips inside anyway and drops into the chair across from you. “Just hiding. Hobi’s making us do bonus choreography and I didn’t stretch today.”

You huff a laugh. “You didn’t stretch yesterday either.”

He grins. “Wow. So observant. Are you always watching me, Y/N?”

You blink, caught off guard.

He’s clearly teasing, but the words land awkwardly in your chest. You shift your focus back to your laptop. “You’re hard to miss.”

Jimin watches you for a second, the mood thinning just slightly. Then, without warning, he gestures to the pile of empty snack wrappers at your side.

“Are you and Seo-Jun, like… working late nights together or something?”

The question is too casual. His tone too carefully light.

You shrug. “He just shows up sometimes. He’s nice.”

“Mm,” Jimin hums, gaze flicking back to the hallway. “He’s also really there lately.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope,” he says quickly. “Just… curious.”

The silence stretches.

You tap your pen against your notepad. “It’s not like that.”

Jimin looks at you for a moment longer—like he wants to say something else, but doesn’t. Finally, he stands and stretches.

“Cool,” he says lightly. “Just checking.”

He leaves with a crooked smile that doesn’t feel quite right.

You stare at the door for a long while after it shuts.

You didn’t plan to stay this late.

Again.

The hall lights have gone into energy-saving mode, leaving a soft dimness that reflects the end of the day. Your monitor glows faintly through the half-open office door, and you rub your temples, exhaustion settling in behind your eyes like a weighted curtain.

There’s a light knock on the doorframe.

You glance up, a little startled.

Seo-Jun.

Holding two cups of something hot.

“I guessed wrong once already,” he says, holding both up. “This one’s tea, the other’s some kind of sugary latte situation.”

You blink. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he says simply. “But your eye twitch was getting louder and it started to bother me.”

You huff a tired laugh and take the tea. “How observant of you.”

He shrugs, settling onto the edge of the desk next to yours. “I’ve got a good eye for overachievers on the edge of burnout. Especially the ones who pretend they’re fine when their voice gets all chirpy and fake.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “That’s oddly specific.”

“You’re oddly easy to read, sometimes,” he says, not unkindly.

You glance back at your screen to avoid that look—the way his face softens when he talks to you like he knows there’s something hiding underneath all your composure.

For a minute, you sip your tea in silence.

Then he says, carefully, “You’ve been a little quiet lately. Quieter than usual.”

You hesitate. “I’ve just been thinking a lot.”

“About?”

You shrug. “Work. Life. The occasional existential spiral.”

“Any particular reason you don’t talk about it with the rest of them?”

You lift a brow. “Why, when I can trauma dump on you for free?”

He smirks. “Exactly.”

But then his tone shifts, just slightly. “I mean it though. I see the way they look at you sometimes. Like they’re trying to figure out where to place you. Like they still don’t know if you’re one of them or just… someone passing through.”

You feel something flicker in your chest.

He’s not wrong.

And the worst part is—you’re not sure either.

“Sometimes I don’t think they know what to do with me,” you admit. “Like I’m too involved to be uninvolved… but not really part of the circle either.”

Seo-Jun nods slowly, like he’s been waiting for you to say that.

“I know that feeling,” he says. “Floating somewhere in between. Close enough to hear everything, but far enough to pretend it doesn’t affect you.”

You glance at him, your defenses dipping just a little. “Is that why you’re nice to me?”

He grins. “No. I’m nice to you because you’re funny when you’re pretending not to be overwhelmed.”

You snort.

“And because I like your face,” he adds, more casually than you’re ready for.

You almost choke on your tea. “Okay. That’s enough honesty for tonight.

“Was it too much? Should I have texted it instead?” he teases.

You don’t know what to say. Your heart thumps awkwardly in your chest—caught off guard not by what he said, but how easy it felt coming from him.

And maybe that’s what scares you a little.

You glance at the time.

“You should go home.”

“You too.”

You both stand, but neither of you moves.

Then Seo-Jun says, quieter this time, “You don’t have to always be half-in, half-out. With anyone. Including me.”

You nod.

But you don’t promise anything.

The day drags on slower than you’d like, filled with meetings and fleeting moments where your attention drifts toward your phone. Between glances at the time and half-hearted attempts to concentrate on the project in front of you, the weight of reality starts to press down on your chest.

You don’t know when you started to dread the idea of returning to university after the internship ends. It should feel like a break—getting back to what was familiar—but somehow, the idea of leaving this behind doesn’t sit right. The longer you’re here, the more you wonder whether you belong with this group of people—or if you’re just in the way.

It’s not something you’ve shared with anyone, but the unease lingers quietly in your thoughts. You’re here. But not for long.

You let out a breath and turn your focus back to the group.

The boys are clustered around, a mixture of friendly banter and half-distracted comments as the team finishes setting up for another session. It’s chaotic in the best way, but something’s different today. As the conversation shifts and the focus drifts toward the work, you catch Jimin’s eyes across the room. He gives you a smile, a little brighter than usual, but there’s something else in it, too—something you can’t place.

Then, Seo-Jun enters the room, his usual confident gait making its way to the group of managers in the back. He waves at you, and instinctively, you wave back, a smile tugging at your lips as you exchange a quiet greeting.

You don’t see it immediately, but you sense the change. Jimin’s gaze sharpens, his attention switching between you and Seo-Jun in a way that makes your pulse pick up.

You ignore it, busying yourself with some notes, but you feel the tension shift in the room. Seo-Jun’s presence never fails to bring an ease to the space, yet today it feels like something else lingers—like the air is thickening with unspoken thoughts.

Jungkook, who’s been quiet all morning, suddenly clears his throat. “I didn’t know you two were so close,” he says, his tone casually off-handed.

You glance up, feeling something you can’t quite define. Jungkook isn’t looking at you—he’s still focused on whatever conversation he was having with Taehyung, but his words hang in the air, a little too pointed.

Seo-Jun chuckles, the sound easygoing. “We’re not that close,” he replies with a grin, but the look he gives you—almost teasing, light-hearted—makes your chest tighten.

Jimin, who had been smiling just moments ago, suddenly shifts. His expression darkens, just slightly, as he looks at you and Seo-Jun. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something you can’t decipher.

Jimin’s smile tightens, and he raises an eyebrow at you in a way that feels like he’s asking a question that you don’t have an answer to.

You’re caught in the middle, and for the first time, the weight of it feels heavier than it has before. They’re noticing you and Seo-Jun. The growing tension between you and the two boys has only escalated, and now, Seo-Jun’s casual proximity to you in the group feels like a spark in the room.

Jungkook, picking up on the shift, leans back in his chair, throwing a glance your way. “Don’t tell me, Y/N,” he teases, “someone already trying to steal my coffee buddy, too?”

You force a laugh, though it comes out a little more strained than you intended. “It’s not like that.”

It’s a deflection.

It’s always easier to hide behind humor.

Seo-Jun glances over at you, his grin softening. “No stealing involved.” he says, making sure his voice is light. But something about the way he’s looking at you—almost too knowingly—sends another ripple through the room.

The boys don’t let it drop, though. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, his usual playfulness tinged with something sharper, and Jimin, ever the observant one, quietly observes.

“You sure about that?” Jimin’s voice carries a quiet edge, and you notice the way he’s looking at Seo-Jun, his expression unreadable.

Seo-Jun’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of something passing between him and Jimin. It’s almost imperceptible, but you catch it—a quiet challenge, an unspoken question.

“Don’t worry, Jimin,” Seo-Jun says lightly, though his words feel heavier than they should. “We’re just having some tea and talking about work. Nothing to steal.”

Jimin watches him for a moment longer, and you can see the tension in his jaw. But he doesn’t say anything else.

You don’t know what’s happening—whether it’s just the stress of the day or the weight of all the things you’ve been carrying, but it suddenly feels like everyone’s watching you. Their eyes on you, but their minds somewhere else. The air’s too thick, the silence too loaded.

Seo-Jun doesn’t seem to notice it, and Jimin doesn’t address it further, but you’re painfully aware of how your presence in the group feels like it’s shifted, and maybe not in a way you can control.

It was finally the weekend.

After the whirlwind of awkward silences, confusing tension, and long days of tiptoeing around unspoken things at work, the neon lights and music felt like another universe. The girls had practically dragged you out of your apartment—and you were glad they did.

You weren’t sure what to wear. You’d stood in front of your mirror too long, trying on outfits you didn’t even care about, until Yoshi yelled through your door, “You look hot in anything! We’re late!”

Now, an hour in, you were letting yourself breathe for the first time in days.

The bar-turned-club pulsed with bass-heavy music and flickering strobes. Sana was already tipsy and dancing with someone she swore she didn’t like. Mitsuki was talking with a cute bartender, and Yoshi kept bouncing between the group and taking pictures of the night.

Seo-Jun stayed close.

Not hovering—but always within reach.

He was comfortable to lean on. A familiar, steady kind of presence in the chaos. You’d caught him glancing at you more than once, but he didn’t act on it. Just stood nearby with a lazy grin and a drink in hand, answering your sarcastic comments with his own dry humor.

“You okay?” he leaned in to ask, his voice almost drowned by the music.

“Yeah,” you shouted back, nodding. “I’m good.”

You wanted to be good.

So when a remix of an old song you loved started playing, you grabbed his hand for a second and spun toward the dance floor with a “Come on!” before letting go and disappearing into the crowd. He hesitated, watching with that unreadable look again, but didn’t follow.

You danced with Yoshi at the edge of the crowd. Song after song it was only hits, songs that you knew way to well. You danced with also the strangers around you sometimes singing with them and feeling yourself in this moment. And you loved doing this. Dancing.

Not for anyone, not for attention—just because your body finally felt light again. Like you could shake off the complicated week, the stares, the weird feeling in your chest every time one of the boys looked at you like they knew you too well—or not at all.

And then… you realized something.

You were alone. Somehow you had drifted into the crowed and Yoshi had vanished. Maybe she went to the toilet?

You turned slowly, blinking through the red and blue haze. Your friends were still on the other side of the dance floor, but now you were in a patch of strangers. Faces you didn’t recognize. Bodies too close.

That’s when it happened.

A hand touched your waist. Too low. Grabbing you in and pulling you close.

You flinched, turning, only for the guy to smile—drunk and overconfident.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said whispering in your ear, clearly not meaning it. His other hand moved like it wanted to find a place on your back.

You sidestepped pushing yourself away. “I’m good, thanks.”

He didn’t let go. Gripping now your arm.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. You’re out, right?”

You tried again to pull away, but his grip firmed. “Hey, I said—”

“She said she’s good.”

The voice cut through the music like a switchblade.

Familiar.

Low.

Commanding.

You froze, the guy startled enough to back off a step, and that’s when you saw him—Jungkook.

Sweat dampened the strands of hair stuck to his temple, his jaw clenched. Behind him, Taehyung had a drink in his hand and a frown on his face. Jimin stood close too, his eyes fixed on you, unreadable.

You didn’t understand.

They weren’t supposed to be here. Why would they be here?

The guy mumbled something and disappeared before any of them could say more. Jungkook didn’t chase. He turned to you instead, gaze running down your arms as if checking if he’d gotten too rough.

“You okay?” he asked, voice lower now. Less anger. More… shaken?

You nodded, barely.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure—”

“I said I’m fine.”

It came out sharper than you meant, the panic still fresh in your chest. You weren’t mad. You were just embarrassed. The adrenaline still hummed in your blood and now all three of them were watching you like you’d broken.

“I didn’t need a rescue,” you added, softer.

“No,” Jimin said from behind Jungkook, voice quiet, “but you got one anyway.”

You blinked.

It was only then you realized how close they all were.

The three of them.

Watching.

Hovering.

And suddenly, you felt more exposed than you had all night. The walls felt like closing in and suddently you couldn’t completely cacth your breath.

“Thanks,” you said quickly, stepping back. “But I’m fine now. I should get back.”

“To Seo-Jun?” Taehyung teased gently, but something in his tone hinted he wasn’t just joking.

You didn’t answer.

You didn’t need to.

Jungkook’s jaw ticked.

Jimin looked away.

You turned before you could unravel.

You blinked again.

Gone.

The boys were nowhere.

Where Jungkook had stood, there was only a flicker of shifting lights and unfamiliar faces. No Jimin. No Taehyung. It was as if the moment hadn’t happened—if not for the thrum still in your ribs and the way your fingers curled slightly at your sides, like they were still on edge.

You pressed your lips together and turned away away again

No one needed to know. Not Seo-Jun, not the girls. Not anyone.

You pushed your way back through the crowd, forcing yourself to walk like you hadn’t just been rattled. Like you weren’t fighting a war between embarrassment and something colder.

“Hey!” Yoshi waved you over as soon as she spotted you. “Where’d you go?”

You gave her a faint smile. “Just wandered off. I’m back.”

She passed you a half-finished drink. “Mitsuki left with that bartender.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Sana chimed in with a giggle, “She texted ‘Don’t wait up’ and a heart emoji. I think she’s fine, but you know. Classic Mitsuki.”

You nodded, pretending to laugh with them. But the night suddenly felt thinner. Less electric.

You glanced toward the bar where Seo-Jun stood talking to someone from another department. As if sensing your gaze, he looked over. His face shifted the second he saw you—shoulders straightening, mouth tightening a little.

He walked over, brushing his knuckles lightly against your arm. Which had you frowning and stepping away.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just over it. .”

“Want to go?” His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to pressure you but wouldn’t take no for an answer.

You paused.

“I think I’ll just head out,” you murmured. “You don’t have to leave. Stay and have fun. I’ll be okay.”

He frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you going home alone.”

“I’ll take a taxi,” you said gently, cutting him off before he could insist again. “Seriously, Seo-Jun. I’m just not feeling it anymore.”

He hesitated, clearly torn. But you looked away before he could protest, already pulling your coat off the back of a chair.

You stepped outside a few minutes later, the air cool and damp against your skin. The noise of the club melted into a low hum behind you. You were halfway toward the curb when a voice behind you made your heart lurch.

“Hey.”

You turned, startled.

Jungkook.

He was standing a few feet away, hoodie up, his hands in his pockets. You hadn’t seen him come out, hadn’t even known he’d stayed.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same.”

He smiled faintly. “Taehyung wanted to stay. I just needed air.”

You glanced toward the sky, then back at him. “Yeah. I get that.”

He took a step closer, but not too close. “About earlier…”

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t worry. It was nothing. Leave it be”

That made him pause, caught somewhere between a smile and something sadder. “That’s not what I—”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” you interrupted, gently but firmly.

Jungkook nodded. He looked down, scuffed the toe of his shoe against the sidewalk. “You’re not hurt, right? From the guy?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Silence. He keeps staring at you trying to see through whatever you were trying so hard to cover. His jaw tense and his face more serious than you have ever seen him.

You didn’t know what to say. Everything was so heavy suddenly. Like your body had already left the club, but your mind was still playing catch-up, trying to understand the strange looks, the timing, the strange ache in your chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I should go,” you mumbled, stepping off the curb.

He nodded again, slow this time.

But just before you opened the taxi door, he spoke again.

“Y/N?”

You glanced over your shoulder.

“…I don’t like seeing you look at someone else like that.”

The words knocked something loose inside you, something small and quiet and stubborn.

He must be drunk and doesn’t even know what hes saying anymore.

You didn’t answer.

You just slipped inside the cab and shut the door.

chapter 4 - chapter 6

MASTERLIST

[hopelessromanticdeviant]

The Rise, The Fall

Chapter 2: When Life Gives You Demons

Chapter Summary:

He’d first laid eyes on her at a gathering of mixed emotions, a funeral. Her soul had no color. He didn’t understand why he couldn't stop watching her. Curiosity was one thing, the thought of not knowing what she was up to made him wince. He still called it only curiosity though. There was no business for it being something else.

~this is smut

He’d first laid eyes on her at a gathering of mixed emotions, a funeral. It was a breeding ground for low-level demon life forms with no intelligence. He had visited the cemetery to regulate the demons due to too many impressionable souls.

Anyone would’ve spared her at least a glance, what with her copper brown hair in a sea of black suits and black hairstyles. But that wasn’t what had got his attention to begin with.

Her soul had no color.

Each soul on earth had an inherent color that changed over time, determining whether the person is good or bad. The colors were incoherent to human eyes, not that they could even begin to imagine or see them. Only high-level demons such as himself could gauge a person’s karma with the color of their soul.

Yet, this was the first time he’d seen a colorless soul. In the midst of solemn and glum faces, her childlike and innocent face finally caught his gaze after he’d tried to gauge her soul.

He couldn’t come up with a single explanation for it. There was nothing that could do justice to this enigma. He slouched against the tree and sighed.

‘Is she even human?’ he thought.

But no, she definitely had a soul, albeit without color. He’d never heard of such a soul, neither read about them – and that was saying something - since he’d practically read almost every demon lore, from ancient to modern.

He saw her frown; long lashes peered up at him.

Wait, she could see him? But just as quick as she looked at him, she’d turned away.

She was probably just gazing listlessly, Jeongguk reasoned.

He saw her pass right by himself, holding the hand of an older woman who was wiping her tears with a handkerchief. He sucked in a breath when she got close to him.

He couldn’t shake off the sense of novelty when he came close to her in person. He watched her leave as all the visitors left in their grey, black, and white cars, his gaze never leaving her ride. He followed her back to her home, not wanting to lose her trail, should he feel the need to study her again.

What is she?

It was probably something he wasn’t supposed to get involved in. It was probably His will in a way.

But curiosity had got the better of him. He began asking every demon he knew about such a phenomenon. Without letting them know about her existence, of course.

Taehyung had laughed at him. Suga-hyung had looked at him in disbelief, as if he was making things up. Hyejin was curious; she’d asked if he’d seen a soul like that. Of course, he answered no. Jin-hyung was curious too, but he’d taken it with a grain of salt.

He’d decided to visit the The Great Den of Wisdom, the most ancient library with every record of demon copy and written text. He’d cracked his head trying to find even a silver of semblance to her situation, but there wasn’t a single such recorded event.

He simply decided he was losing it. He would visit her once; just once and then never think of her again. That would be him closing her case.

He saw her drawing something on the sand, while her friends chatted around her.

She’d worn a pink tank top with knee-length blue jeans.

“You can liven up now, Haru,” a girl close to her age said to her.

Haru.

That was her name. It adorned her well with her bright brown eyes and copper brown hair. Her small face definitely seemed like a Haru.

“Yeah, I just…” Haru started, “I guess I’m just not over Aunt Chaewon’s death.”

“We’re only 15. We’re allowed to not give things much thought. We’re allowed to move on, Haru.” Her friend had uttered with maturity.

 Haru nodded.

He’d gone back to the mansion. When he sat on his bed, he began to feel an itch at the back of his mind.

“Haru,” he said her name out loud, in the privacy of his room. As if it was a secret only he was allowed to be in on.

He then said her name along with her last name, “Mae Haru.”

She was 15. She lived in Seoul, Jamsil.

But her soul had no color. So how was he to know whether her soul was good or bad? As far as he knew, there was no neutral place for dead souls.

He was twirling his thumbs against each other. To gauge whether she was good or bad, he’d have to watch over her, know more about her, and understand her personality. Maybe doing so would also open the doors to the secret of her soul’s mystery.

And so his quest had begun, he’d started studying her – every action and reaction.

He came to know a lot about her within a span of a few months. Her family included her parents, and a boy called Sungho who was the son of her deceased aunt, Chaewon. Sungho had begun to live with Haru after his mother’s untimely death.

Haru did pretty well in school, not a complete genius, but always in the top 10 of her class grades. She was as good at sports as any other 15-year-old, pretty decent. Sungho, the 4-year-old kid, was pretty smart for his age. His cognitive skills were better than average, he thought like an 8-year-old.

Through his continuous scrutiny, he’d come to know that she was a kind soul. It didn’t surprise him at all, what with her upbringing and the people that surrounded her. She had people who cared about her, and she, in turn, cared for them even more.

He’d noticed her kind gestures in the form of waiting out with a girl who’d got her period, mid-PE lecture. He’d noticed her warm smiles towards children younger than her, the kids who used to play with Sungho.

He’d watched her save two kids from a wild dog, by standing her ground in front of it, even when she was scared out of her mind.

Jeongguk deemed her a good person, from what he’d seen.

He jumped over the fig tree that stood right by her room window. Perching himself over a sturdy branch, he watched.

He gazed at her slender form, wearing yellow shorts and a light green tank top. She hadn’t pulled up the covers because of the summer heat.

How did it come to this? Two years had already passed.

He’d watched her grow out her clothes, seen her embarrass herself, and seen her during her sad times and happy ones too.

He watched her sleeping form, eyes travelling from her head to toe. His gaze stayed a little longer on her chest, as it rose and fell down – eyes zoning on the soft mounds that had developed with time, and quite beautifully even. His eyes then traveled to her lean legs, spotless and maintained with care. He knew she was developing into quite a splendid woman for a human.

He didn’t understand why he couldn't stop watching her. Curiosity was one thing, the thought of not knowing what she was up to made him wince. He still called it only curiosity though. There was no business for it being something else.

Her soul still never changed in color. The mystery didn’t solve itself, even after so much scrutiny.

The question of ‘what if’ would never leave his mind. What if there was something going on, that only He could gauge. What if there was something bound to her from previous lives? What if nothing she did in this life was being measured at all and she would be damned to hell anyway?

Jeongguk immediately sat up, breaking in a cold sweat. But, what if she was bound to heaven instead? That was what worried him the most. If she were to die, he wouldn’t come to know where she would end up, unless it was the underworld.

There was only one possible way for him to see her after death – and that was the underworld. The other path was her going to heaven – where he wouldn’t ever get to see her again. Or her soul perishing – again never getting to see her again. Or something unprecedented – something planned by Him – which again, meant he wouldn’t be able to see her.

So his only option to see her was her being alive and well. He couldn’t risk it; there was a very low chance of him being able to see her after death, i.e. in the underworld. The chances of him never seeing her again were far too great.

He scorned the fact that humans only lived so long. This meant even if she led a full life, his time with her would be very short. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d lost sleep over it many a night.

But then came one ugly day, where his rage knew no bounds. He’d been sent to the underworld for some important business, for a meager 2 weeks.

A MEAGER TWO WEEKS!

And within that time period, she’d gone and started talking to a dirty brat named Jaewook. She hardly ever talked to boys!

All the glass windows had been broken in the mansion that day, just from the sheer vibrations of his animosity. Hyejin wouldn’t dare speak up; she was scared for her life. The main door had been lifted off its hinges and thrown across the front lawn. His bedroom was in shambles, the bed broken and all the pillow fur strewn across the room.

It truly was an ugly day. If only he hadn’t gone. Hyejin did ask the reason for his outburst, but he obviously didn’t say anything to her. She’d reasoned it being some mood swings, or some demon probably got on his nerves.

It took him quite a few days, 2 weeks actually, to fully grasp reality. And the first thing he did when he came back to his senses was making her leave the relationship.

He’d ordered a few lowly demons to stray Jaewook’s father’s path astray.

It wasn’t his fault, he told himself. Demons could only influence humans who already did have hints of doing bad deeds, such as bad thoughts and intrusive thinking.

This was bound to happen someday, he’d just sped it up, Jeongguk told himself.

Jaewook’s father had promptly cheated on his wife, Jaewook’s mother. And Jaewook’s mom had taken his custody and left town with her son, within the span of a week.

He hadn't meddled in her life directly, Jeongguk told himself. It was a direct stimulus for someone within her indirect vicinity. It was bound to happen.

Haru had cried a lot; and something in him churned at the sight of her in tears. A human would comfort another crying human, wouldn’t they? Was it the same urge he was feeling? He reasoned it being like that because he’d been watching her for quite some time, and it was foreign seeing someone cry who is mostly always smiling.

He couldn’t help the visual that popped into his head.

Him pulling her into his arms and her sniffling into his chest, holding him even tighter for comfort.

He would pat her head while she let it all out.

He thought of the vision for quite a while after returning to the mansion and lying in bed. He decided to shake it off, considering it nonsense. But the thought stayed at the corners of his thinking cloud with low opacity, never quite leaving.

She’d finally turned 18, and was in her final year of high school.

He watched her at the school ground through the fencing.

His eyes trailed to her lips, then her throat as she reached down to the faucet to gulp down some water. Some droplets fell astray and made their way down her throat to the front of her school uniform.

The fence rattled a little, as Jeongguk gripped on to it suddenly. Her eyes darted toward it, causing something in his heart to jump.

But she immediately looked away, probably blaming the wind.

Her body had developed spectacularly in the past year, maturity oozing out of every movement. It was surreal how women’s bodies could change within such short time spans.

Looking at her made him wonder if he actually had a liking for a body type. He shrugged the thought off immediately. It was only curiosity, he reminded himself.

It would be just like this, he would watch over her as she lived a full life. That’s what he’d thought.

Until that night.

He’d just been making his way to see her for the night. She’d been walking home alone.

She’d flown, as the car collided with her body. He’d just reached then. The asshole who hit her didn’t even bother to stop, he’d just slowed the car for a few seconds, then sped up and left.

Jeongguk had no time to chase after the bastard. She was in mortal danger.

Something in him triggered the fight or flight response. This was a human response, wasn't it?

She dies, you never see her again.

Jeongguk hurried to her, in a flurry of panic with sweaty hands. Her astral spirit was slowly stepping out of her body.

He didn’t know how he did it, but he’d caught her hand and pulled her back into her body. His eyes immediately widened in disbelief.

This was unheard of. No one in the world had the power to do that. Especially not a demon. He blinked, trying to wake up from what had just happened.

Did this really occur?

He rested his hand on her chest. Her heart was beating. Jeongguk let out a sigh of relief.

That was all that mattered. It could be a worldly glitch, it could be His will, it could be something that had happened before in history but was unheard of – all that mattered was that it worked. She was alive.

He carried her into his arms, and teleported back to the mansion in a puff of black smoke.

“Jeongguk-nim who is this?” Hyejin asked, panicking at the sight of an unconscious human girl.

“She had an accident,” was all Jeongguk said.

Hyejin was confused. Jeongguk would never - any demon would never save a human from anything, be it an accident, cancer, or dying of old age.

Realization had dawned on her, thanks to her quick wit.

She gasped, “Her soul is colorless!”

“Is this the human you were talking about that day? A human with a colorless soul. You told us all you were just creating a hypothetical situation!”

“Well, you see her now!” Jeongguk didn’t want to be part of this conversation, “What could you have possibly done had you known about her existence, anyway?”

Hyejin was taken aback; it was very, very rare for Jeongguk to act irrationally like this.

She stood there silently as Jeongguk laid the girl on the couch.

Jeongguk watched her unconscious body for a few seconds, and then reached out to her, straightening out a part of her skirt that had turned upward. He smoothed it out, and sighed.

“She is awfully pretty,” Hyejin decided to break the silence again.

Jeongguk didn’t say anything; he just stared at the girl’s body, as if contemplating something.

He’d done something really crazy, something that could turn out to be really ugly.

“I need you to call Taehyung.”

“Taehyung-nim must be bus-“ Hyejin was immediately cut off

“This is urgent, tell him that.”

Hyejin nodded in obedience and disappeared.

Seeing her up close and personal like this made his heart race. It was the thrill of seeing her so close, as well as the uncertainty of the future that kept him in frenzy.

He would take her home when she woke up, and everything would go back to normal. Or so he’d thought.

He’d stayed at her home’s vicinity after dropping her off, just in case something went awry.

He’d soon realized it wasn’t just something, everything had gone awry.

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