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gukcnt · 1 day ago

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BACK IN YOUR ARMS ⭒ JJK

in which jungkook returns from his military service to reunite with his girl, spending a passionate night filled with love and longing after their separation.

pairing — dom!jungkook x sub!femreader

genre — established relationship, reunion, military enlistment, long distance relationship, slice of life, angst, smut, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, possessive!jungkook, soulmate vibes, hurt and comfort, longing, separation anxiety, love confessions, desperation, emotional intensity, heartbreak, lots of sex scenes, several orgasms, different positions, emotional sex, reunion sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f. receiving), making out, hickies and marking, body worshipping, eating out, face riding, face sitting, tongue fucking, clit stimulation, cum swallowing, lots of breast play, nipple play, overstimulation, forced orgasms, pain from pleasure, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, pussy inspection, hair fisting and pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), blowjob, deep throating, gagging and choking, face fucking, 69 position, mutual oral sex, rough sex, missionary, cum play, loving aftercare

wc — 7.3k

a/n — this one was requested by some of my lovies! I also decided to write this because our man just got discharged from the military and came home to us hehe, hope y'all enjoy this! <3

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

The morning of jungkook's departure for his military service broke through, almost like the universe itself mourned for the separation.

You stood outside the recruitment center, the crowd around you full of chaos—families holding each other, lots of other recruits with their belongings looking sad and disliking the separation.

The air was thick with heavy grief.

And you could feel it press against your chest but all you could focus on was jungkook, your boyfriend, standing before you.

His presence intensifying all the emotions you were feeling.

His dark hair was slightly overgrown and messy from the restless passionate night you'd both spent.

His jaw was often set in a grumpy line when he faced the world.

To others he was almost unapproachable, a man who carried himself with intensity.

Pushing people away.

But with you he was completely different.

His dark eyes soften when they meet yours, filling with warmth that made your heart flutter, his smile—was yours alone.

A secret shared between you two.

To him you were his entire world, the one person who he could be himself with, who could unravel his distant personality and bring out the tender love he hid from everyone else.

Your hands tremble as you clutched his, fingers intertwining tightly.

A desperate attempt to hold onto him.

His hands were warm and calloused, his thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands in a slow, soothing motion.

As if he could take away the heartbreak inside you.

You leaned onto him, his scent enveloping you—clean male and his usual cologne.

It was a scent you were used to and it always surrounds you with safety and love, now it was a cruel reminder of what you were about to lose. His scent that will still linger in your clothes and your apartment once he's gone.

His absence undeniable.

“I don’t wanna go.” jungkook murmurs.

He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, warm breath brushing over your lips.

The closeness was desperate.

He wished that he could stop time.

Plead for it.

His dark eyes search yours, filling with emotions—fear, love and anger at the separation none of you could stop.

“This is fucking torture, baby. I can’t do this… staying without you.”

Your throat tighten at his words, making it hard for you to swallow as tears welled in your eyes even though you promised him not to cry.

You could see the pain in his features, the way his brows furrowed and the way his lips trembled despite his efforts to stay strong for you.

“You’ll come back to me.” you whisper.

Voice quivering.

He lets out a shaky breath, hands moving to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the tears, his touch firm.

Grounding you.

Even though it felt like the world was crumbling around you.

“I promise, sweet girl. I’ll count every damn hour until I’m back holding you in my arms.”

His were were a vow

A lifeline.

You could hear the rumble of the bus in the distance, reminding you of the reality you both are going to face.

You looked at the other families clinging to each other for the last moment and everything was overwhelming for you, their sorrow matching your own.

“kookie…” you whimper.

Your fingers clutch the fabric of his shirt tightly, his heart pounding underneath your palm, a rhythm that seemed to increase now.

You press yourself closer as if you could mend your body to his, all while he's gripping your waist in such a tight grip it almost hurts, but it still wasn’t enough.

Like you could keep him from leaving.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared of what its gonna be like without you here.”

He pulled you into his arms, chin resting on the top of your head and you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.

Imprinting it in your memory.

“I’m scared too.” he admits.

His lips pressing on your cheek, voice raw and pained.

“I’m fucking terrified, baby, but you’re stronger than you think… you’re my brave girl and you’re gonna be okay, I’m going to be back before you even know it.”

“I’ll write to you every chance I get and call you whenever they let me. You're not losing me, you hear me? hmm?”

His words help with the ache in your chest and you tilted your head up, meeting his eyes, seeing the tears glistening in his eyes as well.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” you breathe, shakily.

“I promise.” he said, fiercely.

His hands tightening on your face.

“I’ll come back to you… nothing’s gonna keep me away from you.”

The officer's voice came through, calling jungkook's name with an impatience that knotted your stomach, your knees getting weak as you clung to him.

Fingers digging harder into his chest, desperate to hold onto the moment.

“No, not yet please.” you beg.

His hand slides to your shoulders, gripping them.

“I don’t wanna let you go.”

His voice hoarse.

“Fuck, I’d give anything to stay here with you, to have you next to me...”

You sobbed as you buried your face in his chest again, his arms tightening around you, breath hitching as he pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“I love you.” you choked out.

Muffled in his chest, he holds you tightly, almost trying to anchor you to him.

“I love you more.” he says, fiercely.

He lifts your chin to meet his, eyes burning with a love so fierce.

That it stole your breath.

“You’re my only girl.”

His lips crash against yours, a kiss that was desperate, hungry and full of everything he couldn’t say.

His mouth was urgent, exploring everything and his minty taste fill your mouth.

An intimacy you’d shared so many times before.

His hands cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

His hands cupped the back of your thighs, you got the gesture and jumped, causing him to pick you up.

Your legs wrapping around his waist as he pulls you closer.

The kiss was a moment of connection before the separation and he pours every ounce of love into it, your tears mixing with his as they fell.

Both of you tasting the salt of the tears.

His lips moving against yours spoke of the months apart, the nights that will be spent with longing for a love in the distance.

The officer called his name again, sharper this time and jungkook reluctantly pulled back, both your breaths ragged.

His eyes locked on yours, his hands lingering on your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks one last time.

“Wait for me, love.”

His voice a growl.

“Always,” you promised.

“until I’m back in your arms”

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead, lips lingering and then he steps back, his hands slipping from yours, losing his touch.

It felt like a physical wound.

He grabbed his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder, his jaw clench tightly and he looks at you one last time.

You waved, covering your lips to muffle the cry.

He turns, his tall and strong figure sulking down in sadness as he walks towards the gate.

Soon the crowd swallows him and you watched until he disappeared, your chest hurting beyond words.

You stood there long after he was gone, the coldness setting in your body, no longer receiving the warmth his presence provided.

You turn away from the center, steps slow, heart heavy.

The world already felt emptier without him.

۶ৎ

The months that followed were full of longing.

jungkook's military service was taking up all his time and the communication was very rare.

You sometimes wrote letters to each other, pouring your heart onto the paper.

The letters contained the simplest details of your life as you describe the weather, the new candles you bought or the way you wore his oversized shirts to bed.

To feel closer to him.

His letters back were hurried in his messy handwriting, but each word was so full of love and adoration.

“I miss your laugh.”

He wrote in one.

“I miss the way you scrunch your nose when you’re shy. I miss holding you… I can’t breathe without you.”

Phone calls were very occasional.

Only when he got a break but it was never enough.

His voice always heavy with tiredness.

“I’m counting the days,” he says.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sane here, baby.”

You'd cry after each call, clutching the phone to your chest, his voice breaking you more.

The apartment felt too big without him, the silence too loud, his scent still lingers everywhere, especially on his pillow that gave you company in his absence.

It was fading, you realized but you’d bury your face in it every night, chasing even the bits of his scent.

As you wait.

Counting the days, clinging to the promise of his return.

Your love for him the only thing keeping you tethered.

۶ৎ

The day of jungkook's discharge arrives.

For him the military enlistment was a place with tiring months—full of orders, work and a deep ache for the life he’d left behind.

Now, standing at the first day of his freedom, his heart raced with a single all consuming thought: you.

jungkook adjusted the strap of his duffel bag, scanning the crowd that had gathered.

Waiting for their own reunion.

But as jungkook's eyes raked over the faces, his chest tightened with a growing panic.

You weren’t there.

The one face he needed to see.

The one that had kept him awake at night was nowhere to be found.

You promised to be here.

In every letter, every phone call, you’d told him that you’ll be the first thing he sees once he comes back.

The memory of your voice was still in his mind.

“I’ll be there, jungkook. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He clung to those words but now, standing alone in the crowd of reunions, doubt came in.

Had something happened? were you hurt?

His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag as he forced himself to move forward, gaze darting left and right searching for your face and the way your eyes always seem to find his in a crowd.

Nothing.

He ran his hand through his hair, it was almost like a habit, one you'd always teased him about, saying he looked like a grumpy bunny when he did it.

You were his anchor.

His reason for enduring the sleepless nights, the training that sucked the soul out of him and the several days of separation

Without you here, it hurt him.

“Everything okay, soldier?”

A man that was with jungkook at the camp, another soldier he had a good interaction with.

“I don’t know…” jungkook admitted.

“My girl… she was supposed to be here.”

“Long time apart, huh? that’s alright, bet she’s waiting for you though... girls like to surprise you sometimes.” the man laughs.

jungkook forces a small smile.

“Yeah, maybe.” he whispers.

The man pats jungkook in the back before heading out.

jungkook decides to head out as well, knowing you are not here.

He approached closer to a cab, voice rough as he gave the address of your shared apartment.

The cab pulls away from the base.

He stared out the window as it was all familiar, he’d dreamed of this moment, returning back home.

Returning to you.

When the cab finally pulled up to the apartment, jungkook quickly came out, his heart hammering as his hands fumbled with the bills, paying the driver.

What if you weren’t there?

What if something had happened?

He slid the key into the lock, pushing the door open, stepping inside with urgency.

His duffel bag hits the ground.

It was quiet all over the apartment, your usual vanilla scent fills him, deepening the urge to see you.

You weren’t there.

“baby?” he calls out.

The stack of new books on the couch tightened his throat.

A reminder of the small promises left unfulfilled because of the separation.

He promised that he will listen to you read those aloud since he knew how much you loved reading novels and he loves hearing you read them to him just as much.

He finally reached the bedroom door, pushing it open, expecting you to be here.

He froze.

The sight before him stealing his breath.

There you were.

Laying on the bed, glowing with the slight sunlight from the window, the sheets on you did little to distract from the vision of you—naked and exposed.

Yet so breathtakingly beautiful.

All your curves exposed to him—the soft swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips, your hair down.

You look at him with wide eyes, full of shyness and also with longing that can be seen from the way your eyes glisten with tears.

Your eyes locked onto his, a flush on your cheeks, hands trembling slightly, betraying the nervous anticipation that was going through you.

Your nipples were hard, pebbled in the cool air and your legs were slightly parted.

A silent invitation that made his mouth go dry.

jungkook dropped to his knees beside the bed in front of you, his entire form filling with relief and desire.

His hands shook reaching for you, cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes, letting out a broken whimper at the feel of his touch after so long.

Your soft skin against his hand ached him with a fierce need.

Almost consuming him.

As his fingers trace your features, making sure that you were real and he wasn’t dreaming

His thumbs brushed away the tears that had gathered in your eyes, his own eyes watering.

“Fuck”

He breathes.

“Baby, you’re… you’re here.”

His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail—your half lidded eyes, the way your breasts heaved with your shaky breaths.

Especially the way your lips part slightly, glistening with the faint trace of gloss.

His cock twitched in his uniform pants, the fabric suddenly too tight as he felt the heat through him.

He was hard, achingly so.

And the sight of you like this—waiting for him just as he’d dreamed—was taking up all the pent up frustrations and hunger he’d held back for months.

You sat up slightly, voice trembling with emotion.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

You whispered, eyes never leaving his.

“I read your letter, the one where you said… you wanted me waiting for you and I missed you, so I wanted to make it special.”

His heart clenched, his worry leaving him as he leans closer, forehead pressing against yours.

The scent of him immediately makes your heart race.

“I thought something happened to you.” he breathes.

A tear streamed down his face, mixing with yours and his grip on your face tightens as if making sure you were okay.

“I’m right here.” you croak.

Tears spilling down your cheek.

“I’m so sorry I scared you, koo.”

He shook his head, a guttural sound leaving his throat.

“Don’t apologize,”

“You’re here. You’re safe and that’s all that matters.”

His lips crashed against yours, no longer able to hold himself back, the kiss desperate, full of longing and relief after months apart.

His tongue slipped past your lips, tangling with yours, exploring all over.

That expressed exactly how much he missed you.

And how he won't ever let you go.

Your hands clutch at his uniform, bunching the fabric as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

His tongue coaxes out needy noises from you, making him groan in return, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands don’t stay still as they start roaming all over your body, tracing everywhere, his fingers trembling with the need to memorize you all over again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes intense.

“Waiting for me like this… my perfect girl.”

Your cheeks flush, a shy smile tugging at your lips despite the throb in your pussy.

“I wanna make you happy,” you whispered.

“I thought about you every day, kookie…”

He groans again, hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them as he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he growls.

“Seeing you like this… fuck, I’ve dreamt of this every night.”

You reach for him, fingers brushing against the hard planes of his chest through his uniform.

“I love you.” he whispers.

“I love you too.”

He kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense, lips moving against yours, hands sliding up to cup your face once again.

His hands slid down to your thighs, parting them gently and your breath hitched, body already responding to him.

Your pussy was wet, clit pulsing with need, the anticipation of his touch made you dizzy and he noticed.

He always does.

He takes in the sight of you before him.

Ready and waiting.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs.

“What am I gonna do with this girl?”

He leans down, lips brushing against your collarbone, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses as his hands roam higher, cupping your breasts, weighing them.

His thumbs brush over your hard nipples, drawing a soft gasp from you.

You arched into his touch, hands clutching at his shoulders.

“jungkook…”

All the pleas and begs in his name alone.

jungkook stood, taking off his military uniform, discarding it on the floor, eyes never leaving yours.

His black undershirt strained against his muscular frame that was even broader now after months of working out and training in the military.

His dark eyes rake over your naked form sprawled across the sheets like an offering.

And he was about to devour you.

There was a faint sheen of sweat coating your body, breasts heaving from your pants as your thighs remained parted.

Just enough to reveal the glistening evidence of your arousal.

jungkook snarls, his cock pulsing painfully inside his uniform pants.

The sight of you—his sweet, shy girl, so vulnerable yet waiting for him—lights something primal in him.

His hands shook, reaching for the hem of his undershirt and he yanked the shirt over his head in one swift motion.

His chest full of hard muscles, abs even more prominent now and defined, glistening with sweat.

The tattoos were highlighted on his arm and his body also had scars from training.

All these only added to his rugged look.

“Fuck baby,” he rasped.

“Look at you…”

Your pussy clenched at the adoration in his voice as you shift on the bed, clutching the sheets, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I wanted to be pretty for you.” you croon.

His gaze softens for a moment, a flicker of tenderness breaking through the hunger.

“You’re always pretty,” he said.

“But this… this is fucking torture, I’ve been wanting this for months.”

He stepped closer, hands moving to the buckle of his belt, the metallic clink making your pulse race.

His fingers hurried as he unfastened his pants, shoving them down, only leaving his boxers on.

His bulge was very visible, a wet spot forming on the fabric from the precum beading out of him.

You press your thighs together at the sight of him, instinctively, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

jungkook noticed, lips curling into a smirk that was almost predatory.

“You want me, love?” he teased.

His voice rough.

He finally kicks off his pants and you can see his body, full of power and strength.

Such a stark difference compared to his body before.

And his cock twitched, watching you check him out like the way he was doing to you.

“Please… I need you.” you whisper.

He hums, the sound causing you goosebumps as he climbs onto the bed, his hands find your thighs, pulling you towards him.

Manhandling you.

You let out a squeak.

“Gonna make you feel good.” he husks.

Lips brushing your earlobe.

“I’m going to make up for every fucking day I couldn’t touch you.”

His hands slid up your sides, leaving heat trails in his wake. He paused at your breasts, cupping them and squeezing gently, thumbs rolling your nipples.

It sent a jolt straight to your core and you arched into him.

“jungkook…” You moan, softly.

His eyes locked on your breasts, thumbs continue circling the buds.

“These tits,” he grumbles.

“I’ve been thinking about them… so soft, so perfect.”

He pinched the nipples gently, flicking them and you let out a whine, hips bucking towards him.

He lowered his head, lips closing around one and you cried out, hands tangling in his short hair, tugging.

His mouth hot, sucking onto the sensitive bud and his tongue swirls with a fast pace that makes your toes curl.

You let out a broken moan, his teeth grazing lightly over your nipple.

“Oh god… jungkook”

He moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention, lips and tongue working in tandem.

His hand continues to knead the neglected one, pinching and tugging until you were writhing beneath him, bunching the sheets.

Your nipples swollen, glistening with his saliva and the sight seemed to drive him wild.

“mm… you’re so sensitive.”

A deep chuckle rumble from his chest, lips brushing your skin as he speaks.

You could feel the slickness pooling between your thighs, coating your folds.

Your lips remain parted, panting.

“Please.” you signed.

Your hands tugging at his hair.

“I need more…”

He smirks, tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip in a sensual way that has your eyes dilating.

“Oh, baby… I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”

His hands spread your thighs, as far as they would go, exposing your pussy to his hungry gaze.

The cool air against your heated skin makes you shiver, but the real shock came when his fingers brush against your soaked folds.

A grunt leaves his mouth, taking in your quivering pussy.

Your clit pulse harder under his gaze, his fingers sliding through your wetness, coating themselves in your slick.

He parts your folds, thumb brushing lightly over your clit.

“Oh!”

Your hips jerk upward.

“So fucking wet for me… you’ve been thinking of this, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted.

“Every night, koo, I touched myself thinking of you.”

His eyes flash with an animal need, he leans down, the smell of your arousal hitting him, making his nostrils flare.

“Good girl.” he hums.

His lips brushing your clit.

“Now let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

He didn’t tease for long.

His tongue lapped at your clit with slow strokes as you let out needy murmurs, thighs shaking.

He holds your legs apart tightly, almost bruising them in the process, something you don’t mind.

You'll look at the bruises later, admiring them.

His tongue circled your clit before his lips close around the throbbing nub, sucking hard and you cry out, hips thrusting against his mouth.

“Hahh, jungkook, mhmm—”

He focuses on your pussy, letting out growls of approval at your taste as he eats you out like a starved man.

He has been away from you for so long and all the overload need has turned him feral.

His tongue switched between different motions, from soft licks to sucks that made your vision blur.

He flattened his tongue, dragging it from your entrance to your clit, tasting every inch of you and you felt your orgasm building quickly.

Your hips rocked, chasing it, stomach knotting faster.

His hands grip your thighs and the sting of his nails digging into you only heightened your arousal.

You let out a shaky cry.

“Please don’t stop!”

You were only capable of begging and uttering his name.

He pulls back just enough to speak, lips glistening with your arousal, some dripping on his chin and the sight makes you look away in shame and embarrassment.

“Never.” he snarls.

He dove back in, tongue plunging into your entrance, fucking you with slow, deep thrusts that made you see stars.

He would alternate between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit.

It felt like a delicious torture.

You were a mess, couldn’t think straight as your body trembled.

Your hands found his hair again, tugging hard and he moaned against your pussy, the vibration pushing you closer to release.

He slid one hand up your thigh, fingers finding your entrance.

He teased you first, circling you with one finger, spreading your slickness all over your mound before pushing in slowly.

You gasped, clenching around his finger.

The intrusion almost felt foreign yet familiar after so long.

“So tight,” he huffs.

“I bet being away from you for so long made you tight all over again… gotta stretch this cunt for me.”

He added a second finger, stretching you and you yelped, head falling back against the pillow.

His fingers curled inside you to find that spot that makes you scream.

He pumped them slowly at first, his tongue still working your clit, sucking hard as his fingers fucked you.

You were in tears.

The dual sensation too much.

“Nghh, kookie!” you screamed.

Your body almost lifting off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your pussy pulsed around his fingers, clit throbbing against his tongue.

He didn’t stop.

His fingers pumping faster, his mouth sucking harder.

You sobbed, vision going white.

“jungkook, oh god, ahh—I’m coming!”

His tongue lapped up every drop of your release, groaning in approval as his fingers slowed but did not stop, drawing out your orgasm.

Until you were an oversensitive mess.

“That’s it,” he coaxed you.

“I missed this… you taste so good.”

You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving with your pants, jungkook pulls out his fingers slowly, making you whimper.

He brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

The sight making your pussy clench again.

A fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs.

He crawls up your body, lips finding yours and you tasted yourself on his tongue, mixing with his saliva and you moaned into his mouth.

Your hands roaming his broad back, feeling the hard muscle under his skin.

“I missed you.” you whispered.

Voice hoarse from screaming

“I missed you too, sweet girl.”

His voice rough with emotion.

He kneels between your legs, taking off the only garment covering his body, his boxers slide down as he throws them somewhere in the room.

Your eyes were closed, body still trembling from the orgasm he'd just given you, trying to catch your breath.

Your nipples still ached from his earlier attention.

You open your eyes slightly to meet his, his pupils blown wide with lust as he looks down at you.

You inhale sharply as you look at his cock standing proudly and heavy, like a promise of what's about to come.

It was thick, veiny and the tip flushed, glistening with precum that beaded at the tip.

The sight of it made your mouth water, throat going dry.

Your clit pulse as well looking at his thrashing length and you fisted the sheets in need.

It was bigger than you remembered.

The months of absence made it seem almost intimidating, his throbbing cock proving how desperately he wanted you.

You sat up.

Reaching for him, fingers trembling as they wrapped around his cock.

You felt the hardness of him along with the throb as you started stroking him slowly, thumb brushing over the tip, spreading the precum and making him hiss, his hips jerking.

“Fuck, my love,” he grunts.

“Your hands...”

You licked your lips, meeting his eyes.

“I wanna taste you.” you purr.

Your voice was shy but still laced with a boldness that surprised even you.

His eyes almost turn pitch black, a growl rumbling from his chest.

“Then take me,” he urges.

“Suck my cock like you mean it.”

You didn’t hesitate.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the saltiness reminding you of the past memories where he guided you in the way he likes.

You both knew each other's body like the back of your hands.

Knowing exactly how to please the other, knowing what makes the others eyes roll at the back of their heads.

His hands tangling in your hair, not pushing but guiding but still holding back to take things at your pace, which you understood from his hold.

You take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head as his heavy cock fill your mouth.

You sucked gently at first, lips sliding down his shaft tracing the vein that pulsed beneath.

“Oh god…”

He hissed, head falling back as you looked up at him to see his adam's apple bobbing with his gulp.

The sight made your thighs clench, bare giving you any relief.

“Always so fucking good at pleasing your man.”

You moaned around him at his praise, the vibration making his hips buck and you knew from his actions that he wanted you to take him deeper.

You took him as far as you could, throat constricting as you fought the urge to gag, eyes watering.

But determined.

Your hand wrap around the base, stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach as your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently.

Feeling their weight, his grip tightens in your hair.

“Just like that, baby,” he grits out.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

You pulled back slightly as your tongue swirls around the head again, sucking hard and his husky growls were driving you crazy.

Each sound sends a jolt to your core.

You could feel yourself getting wetter, aching for his touch.

Any friction.

You tried to ignore your needs and focused on bobbing your head, setting a rhythm, his cock twitching in your mouth, hips thrusting slightly.

And you hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, wanting to drive him as wild as he'd driven you.

But jungkook wasn’t content to let you have all the control.

“I need to taste you again.” he scoffs.

His voice fill with urgency as he pulls you off his cock with a gentle tug, his hands guiding you to straddle his face with your back facing him.

Before you could react.

You gasp, clutching his muscled body as he positioned himself so his cock hovered over your mouth, the tip brushing your lips while his face settled between your thighs.

His breath hot against your pussy that was still dripping from your earlier release.

The sight of him—his cock so close—made your mouth water again and you didn’t waste any time reaching up and guiding his cock back into your mouth.

Sucking eagerly.

At the same time his tongue finds your pussy, you moaned around his cock, his lips closing around your clit, sucking gently and you bucked your hips.

Your body struggling to maintain the overwhelming sensation.

He groans against your pussy, the vibration sending shockwaves through you while you can’t keep up with sucking his cock.

Now moaning against it.

His tongue relentless as he teased the sensitive bud before sliding to your entrance, gathering the arousal there.

“Oh shit, ahmm—”

You gasp, his nose nudging your clit.

“I could drown in you.” he says.

Voice muffled.

You tried focusing on his cock and not on what a squirming mess he was driving you into, cock sliding deeper into your mouth as he thrusts gently.

Your tongue swirling as you stroke the base, sputtering, eyes watering.

Your arousal drips onto his tongue.

You were basically riding his nose now, his tongue curling inside you was too much and you were letting out choked whimpers and moans around his cock.

His hands held you open and the wet sounds of his mouth against your pussy mingled with the sounds of your mouth on his cock.

Creating a lewd music that fills the room.

“kookie,” you sob.

“You’re gonna make me come again… stop please.”

He doesn’t stop his tongue moving faster, fucking you deeper, his movements feral as you didn’t back down as well, even though your thighs were shaking.

You took him back into your mouth, sucking hard as you deep throated him and you gagged, stroking while his tongue and lips drove you closer.

You both were lost in each other, giving and taking in equal measure while he fucked your mouth and worshipped your pussy.

Controlling you in all ways.

You came first, body arching, your sobs muffled on his cock, tears leaving your eyes as he laps up every drop.

You pulled off his cock, body shaking uncontrollably.

Your orgasm left you weak but you didn’t stop pumping his cock and he groaned, thrusting harder into your mouth, chasing his release.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.” he pants.

You knew he was near from the throb of his cock.

You let out a needy whine around him and the vibration was enough to push him over the edge, cum spilling into your mouth, coating your tongue.

You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him, tongue working until he let out a growl.

His hand cupping the back of your head.

You collapse in his arms, his chest heaving as you both lay there for a moment catching your breath, your bodies still humming with the aftershocks.

He pecked your lips, giving you the taste of both of you.

“I’ve missed this… missed us.” he whispers.

You hum, eyes watering, fingers tracing the lines of his tattoos as his hand soon starts roaming your body again and you know this is only the beginning of the night.

The hunger between you far from sated.

You both craved more.

jungkook hovered above you and you still felt your release dripping down your thighs, pooling on the sheets.

He breathes hard, taking you in naked and spread out for him, breasts still rising and falling.

“I need you inside me.” you whimpered.

Your voice filled with need.

A low growl rumbles from his chest as he positions himself between your thighs, the bed creaking under his weight.

“I’m gonna give you everything, love.” he promised.

“Fuck you so good... make you feel how much I missed you.”

He grips his cock, hand wrapping around the base and rubbed the tip against your slick folds, teasing your clit with slow strokes.

You gasp under the pressure, cunt clenching in anticipation.

You didn’t want teasing.

“Oh god, koo…” you huff.

Nails digging into his shoulder, he drags his cock through your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

Your pussy was swollen and ready.

The months of being apart have left you hypersensitive.

Even the slightest contact of his length sent sparks of pleasure through you.

You gave him pleading eyes, tears dropping.

He didn’t make you wait any longer, his own restraint fading and he pushed into you with a slow thrust, cock penetrating your pussy, inch by inch.

It was too much.

A delicious burn while your walls adjust for him, tightening further on him.

A cry of pain and pleasure leaves you.

He groaned, head falling to your shoulder as he bottoms out, cock buried to the hilt.

“Shit,”

“You’re so tight… so perfect around me.” he husks.

His cock pulsed inside you, hips rocking slowly at first, each thrust taking him deeper.

With each thrust of him, you let out “ohs” and clench the bedsheets.

“You like that, hm?” he asks.

“Like how my cock feels inside this little pussy?”

“Yes.” you sobbed.

Voice high and needy, hips rocking to meet his thrusts.

“Please don’t stop!”

He growls, his thrusts pick up their speed as his hips snap against yours.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

His tip almost brushes your cervix, making you see stars behind your vision.

He grumbles, his eyes locked on where his cock disappears into your pussy, puffy folds stretched around him and the quivering nub just above it.

“Taking me so well like a good naughty girl” he tsks.

He leans down, plunging his tongue into your mouth while his tongue performed the same sex act that his cock was giving you.

You struggle to breathe, just mumbling expletives while scratching his back.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he noticed, his hand sliding up to cup one, fingers pinching and rolling your nipple.

He leans down, sucking onto one and you cry out, arching your back as your pussy clenches on him rhythmically.

You were drooling now, brows furrowed.

You were mindless, not capable of feeling anything but the pleasure he was igniting inside you.

“jungkook. jungkook. jungkook.”

You chanted his name, voice breaking.

You didn’t know if you wanted him to slow down or keep going, his thrusts relentless now, cock pounding you while his balls slap against your ass.

He fucks you like a man possessed.

His cock was hitting your g-spot with every stroke, you were screaming now, biting into the sheets to ground yourself.

“You’re gonna cum for me?” he rasps.

His hands slide down to rub your clit, fingers circling it in tight fast circles and the added stimulation was breaking you, pussy clenching around him so tightly.

He hissed.

His thrusts faltering slightly.

“Come on my cock, sweetheart… let me feel you.”

“Ahh, hnn I’m gonna—”

Your words were cut off with a scream that ends with a wail as your orgasm hit you.

Pussy spasming around his cock.

Your walls milking him with you release

Your body shook, nails digging on his back, almost drawing blood.

“Shh, that’s it.” he calms you.

Even though his voice was strained from chasing his release, thrusts growing harder.

He kisses you, swallowing your moans and cries as he fucked you through your orgasm and he finally came, his cum hot and thick, filling you with spurts and spurts of it.

He moans your name, hips jerking as he empties himself, gripping your hips tight.

“Mine,” he growls.

“All fucking mine.”

Your forehead meeting his, both your breaths shaky and you cling to him, body spent.

Both of you didn’t have the strength to separate the connection.

Your pussy still pulsing around his softening cock that was filling you, grounding you both in this moment.

You lay there tangled together.

Both your bodies slick with cum and yet the room was filled with love.

“Always only yours, jungkook”

You murmur before your eyes fall closed.

۶ৎ

The room was filled with the smell of sex and sweat from your earlier intimacy and the sheets completely damp beneath you both.

jungkook's chest rose and fell steadily against your back, arms encircling you, one hand laying possessively across your stomach.

His fingers tracing small patterns that sent shivers across your skin.

You shifted slightly, turning in his arms to face him and the movement drew a low groan from his throat, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, no hunger, that was present just a few moments ago, lips swollen from hours of kissing and he was still sweaty all over.

And you knew you probably look worse but he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

He always does.

The sight of him so close and so real after months of absence almost felt unreal.

It was like a dream.

Him beside you.

“Still awake, baby?”

He rumbles as his lips curve into a soft, sleepy smile, only reserved for you.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering on your cheek.

“Couldn’t sleep.” you murmur.

Your voice was shy now, a contrast to the boldness of your earlier actions and you ducked under his gaze, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

He chuckled deeply.

“Don’t leave me again…” you breathe.

All the earlier giggles faded as a seriousness took over you, eyes glistening.

His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his hard chest pressing against your bare breasts and your oversensitive nipples grazing him still sent jolts of sparks through you.

“I’m not going anywhere.” he said fiercely.

“Not now. Not ever. You're stuck with me, babygirl.”

He pecks your nose, the action precious.

“I’ve waited too fucking long to be here with you and I’m finally home.”

The word ��home” hit you and your throat tightened.

You tilted your head up, kissing him as you both tasted the salt and arousal from earlier doings.

He brought one of your thighs up, wrapping it around his waist, branding himself in you.

jungkook pulls back, eyes searching yours.

“Every day in that lonely fucking place. I thought of you… you kept me going.”

His hand slid up to cup your face and you felt the tremor in his touch.

“I’d go through it again if it means I get to be here with you.”

۶ৎ

The night stretched on with several positions and lots of whispered love confessions.

“I love you.”

He’d said with every thrust.

“So fucking much”

Your hands clutched his, fingers intertwining.

As dawn crept through the curtains, you lay together, bodies spent but your hearts full.

jungkook held you close and you smiled, body aching but sated as you rested against him.

“I’m back in your arms,” he whispers.

“And I’m never leaving you again.”

The night had been a desperate, hungry reunion as you both made up for all the lost time.

And now as you drifted to sleep in his arms, the world outside faded, leaving only the two of you.

Bound by love

And a promise of forever.

────

permanent taglist: @chaelvrx @wintaemoonjen @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @nanisblogg @tatamicc @mokaliciouss @armybomb-infires @jiniminisworld @seokjinthescientist @gyeomibearr @xmiaacxio @n0chuprettykook @gizaspicebag @aaclariww @dollytingz @pokalunolino @bunnies-only @cuntygguk @avawants2havefun

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joonie · 7 days ago

Text

‘Killin' It Girl (feat. GloRilla)’ - j-hope

#bts #7jgif #bangtan sonyeondan #btsgif #hoseok #j hope #jhope #jung hoseok #I HAVE SO MANY THOTS BUT I WILL SHUT UP #HE'S SO FKIN HOT FKKKKK #look at this set on your 60fps monitors or phones i promise it's an experience

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kookooluvr · 2 days ago

Text

Made of Honor | JJK (fic announcement)

you gained a lot from university; a law degree catching dust in your attic, countless arguments with your roommate about laundry schedules, and a best friend whose biggest fear in life is commitment. in essence, jungkook's world gets flipped upside down when you take a trip to london and he finally realizes his feelings for you...only to find out you've come back with a fiancé.

pairing: jungkook x (fem) reader x namjoon

genre: fluff, angst, smut, f2l au, love triangle au, bestfriend!jungkook, fuckboy!jungkook, baker!reader, photographer!namjoon

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w/c: tbc

warnings: tbc

a/n: my first one-shot woop woop !!!! i'm soooo excited to share this one with you guys because moh!jk is a menace and namjoon makes me swoon 😩😩 i didn't want to give too much away with the teaser so it's just jk and oc's meet cute (my namjoonie isn't in the picture yet). pleeease let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist and i hope you are as excited as i am !! love you cuties 🫶🏼

jk moodboard oc moodboard namjoon moodboard

moh spotify playlist

[Teaser]

It's Halloween night on campus, which means three things: a really loud, obnoxious party filled with really loud, obnoxious people, drunk hookups that no one will remember in the morning, and you've locked yourself in your room to avoid all of the above.

The entire university is pulsating with the energy of drunk frat boys in capes, girls dressed in skimpy lingerie calling it their costume, and at least three professors who are far too old to be dressed up amongst the students. You, however, are in your true element: a large hoodie, fuzzy socks, a half-eaten Snickers bar on your nightstand, and a thick law textbook open in front of you.

Parties aren't your thing. You'd rather be sued than make small talk with a guy dressed as a ketchup bottle. While your roommate, Jieun, spent hours hot-gluing rhinestones onto her platform space boots for her "sexy astronaut" outfit, you politely declined all invitations and instead declared war on your midterm readings. The only spooky thing in your life right now is the growing realization that you don't actually want to be a lawyer, the thought that you'll probably die single, and knowing you'll be buried in student debt by the time you graduate.

And honestly? That's still more appealing than the campus party.

You take a break from studying around 2am and finally decide to turn off the light and get some rest.

Until the door of your dorm room creaks open.

You pause, blinking your eyes open in the darkness of your room. Maybe Jieun forgot her phone. Maybe she brought back a stray alien from the party. Either way, you don't move, not until the unmistakable dip of the mattress under your legs almost sends your soul flying from your body.

Someone just climbed into your bed.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, your heart racing in your chest. It's pitch black, the only light coming from the little slit under the door.

"Jieunieee," the voice whispers, smooth and far too seductive. "Are you ready for the best dick of your life?"

That's it.

You scream as loud as you can, springing straight up. You grab the bottle of Channel perfume on your nightstand and spray it directly into his eyes.

"AHHH—WHAT THE F—!"

The stranger falls out of your bed with a loud thud, hitting the floor dramatically like he's been shot in a Western.

"What the hell?!" he groans, writhing on the floor with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding his head. "You maced me!"

"That was perfume!" you yell, feeling your heart in your throat, the perfume clutched tightly in your hand, holding it out in case you have to spray him again. "And why are you in my bed, you psychopath?!"

"I was looking for Jieun!"

"You can't just crawl into beds like a raccoon in the night!"

"I thought this was her bed!"

"Do I sound like Jieun?!"

He blinks rapidly on the floor, his voice strained through his agony. "I don't know, it's dark and I was promised a sexy astronaut!"

You switch on the bedside lamp with the force of a woman ready to kill.

And there he is.

Black leather pants. Tight black shirt. Fake bruises and cuts on his face, presumably made with makeup. An eyebrow piercing. Messy hair. Ridiculously attractive even while clutching at his eyes like he's just been gassed in battle.

Your brain fills in the blanks before he even says it.

"You're Jeon Jungkook, aren't you?"

He lowers his hand just enough to smirk at you. "And you're ___. The infamous roommate l've heard so much about."

You sigh, flopping back against your headboard in disbelief. "Of course she's hooking up with you of all people."

Jungkook is a campus legend. The boy whose reputation includes at least two streaking incidents, three girls who dropped out of the university due to their heartbreak, and a tongue that's done unspeakable things according to the word on the street.

And now he's on your floor, still very much looking like the kind of man your mother warned you about even after being sprayed in the eyes with perfume.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "For the record, l've had a lot of entrances, but that was definitely my worst."

"You scared the crap out of me!" you exclaim, tossing your pillow at him. "Who just walks into a dorm and climbs into an unfamiliar bed?!"

"I didn't walk," he scoffs, catching the pillow with an insufferable grin. "I strode."

You glare at him.

He grins wider. "Come on, that was funny!"

"You have a concussion, don't you?"

He wipes his eyes with the heels of his palms, settling on the edge of your bed. "Honestly? If you weren't so terrifying, I'd be impressed."

"Excuse me?"

"You're terrifying," he deadpans. "You sprayed me in the eyes and insulted me all within five minutes. That's worse than most of my Tinder dates. Not by much, but still."

You fold your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him. "Maybe don't go crawling into beds with strangers."

"Technically, you're the stranger," he quips, pointing a finger at you. "And you've maced and verbally abused me. That's a lot for a first impression."

You sigh, rolling your eyes. "Unbelievable. Are you always this irritating?"

"I like to think of myself as…persistently charming," he smiles.

You give him a dry look, your eyes narrowing. "You're the human equivalent of an unsolicited dick pic."

"Oof," he winces, placing his hand over his heart. "Okay, that one hurt. But also...kinda hot that you're this mean."

You blink at him. "Do girls actually fall for this crap?"

"Usually," he shrugs.

"Well, congratulations," you scoff. "You've officially found the girl who's immune to your bullshit."

He holds up his hands in surrender, laughing softly. "Okay, you've made your point. I'm sorry I invaded your bed. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I apologize."

Your face softens ever so slightly, giving him a curt nod. "Thank you."

"But also," he adds, leaning back on his hands, "you're hilarious. And clearly not afraid to defend your space. We should be friends."

You stare at him. "What?"

"Friends," he repeats, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "You and me. I'm serious."

You narrow your eyes once more. "You literally came here to hook up with my roommate."

"Which clearly isn't happening anymore," he sighs, lounging on your bed like he's at the beach. "But now l've met you. And I like you."

You scoff. "You don't know me."

"I know you don't care about going to a hot party and hooking up on Halloween night, and would absolutely tase someone if you had the chance. Right?"

You pause. That...is not incorrect.

"I also know that girls like you usually avoid guys like me. Which is fair. But still.." He swings his legs off the bed, standing up. "I want to be friends."

"Why would we do that?" you ask, genuinely curious.

He grins. "Because you're the first girl who's actually told me I'm full of shit to my face."

You open your mouth, then close it again, and he takes that as a win.

"Anyway, I'll see you around," he smiles, walking toward the door. "If Jieun asks, tell her I tested positive for an STD or something."

You roll your eyes. "Get out!"

He's halfway out when he turns back and winks.

"Nice meeting you, ___."

"Likewise, Satan," you grumble, gesturing for him to shut the door.

He laughs, loud and boyish, and disappears down the hall. And just like that, your quiet Halloween night turned into something totally unexpected.

You met Jeon Jungkook. And he wants to be your friend.

God help you.

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littlegochu · 3 days ago

Note

Can we get a big one shot or a series, of single daddy JK and reader is an assistant at HYBE daycare while she temporarily figures her life out (she’s an artist trying to make means meet). She also bartends on the weekend and runs into JK one of the nights he is out with the boys.

I feel like you’ll be incredible in writing this

after hours│ jjk 18+

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: single dad jungkook, slow burn

rating: 18+ (explicit content — sexual themes)

synopsis: y/n juggles quiet days at a daycare and late nights bartending, never expecting her life to shift when jungha — a soft-spoken kid — walks in with his ridiculously attractive, unreadable dad.

between shared coffees, late-night drives, and silent promises, y/n learns that love doesn’t always arrive loudly. sometimes it shows up in small, steady ways — and maybe this time, it’s hers to keep.

i really hope this is applesauce.

it’s barely 10 am and my jeans are dotted in glitter glue and something sticky.

"gina," i murmur, crouching beside the low table where a few kids are coloring. "we can get you a new one, okay?"

i try to console her as she's having a full-body meltdown because her juice box exploded.

beside her, haru’s chewing on a blue crayon like it’s a snack. again.

surprisingly not the worst morning i’ve had.

i've been working here for about 6 months now, as a daycare assistant with my bestfriend. unlike her, i never aspired to work anything in child care industry.

but life doesn’t really ask what you want.

it's been hard to keep myself up recently, not after my mom's passing. i dedicated the last 2 years of my life as her caregiver, cutting my own dreams short to tend to her illness and keep us afloat.

i would do it again in a heartbeat, its just funny to think that i wasted my time just to see her go.

after she left i've just been trying to survive, i work at the daycare in the mornings, bartending at night.

my real dream? probably to be an artist.

i was always obsessed with painting, color palettes were my own way of expressing myself—

"miss y/n, how do you draw a sunset?"

jiwon holds up a paper with orange scribbles and a sun in the top corner.

i crouch down beside him, resting my chin in my hand. “well… sunsets aren’t perfect circles. they kind of melt into the sky, right? like when your ice cream melts.”

he blinks. “so i draw a puddle?”

“a pretty puddle,” i say, smiling, and he giggles.

i help him blend red and orange together with his stubby fingers, showing him how to smudge the lines just a little.

“can i put it on the wall?”

“alright, clean up time!” i call, clapping my hands twice. “parents are on the way!"

i help the kids line up their drawings on the little gallery wall we made near the door with their names are signed at the bottom.

"say bye to miss y/n and miss kyla!" summer's mom smilies as she carries her toddler between her arms, holding her lunch bag in the other.

"bye bye!"

i wave, already turning back toward the cubbies when i hear someone crying over a missing sock.

"look who’s here, y/n," kyla says behind me.

i glance over my shoulder.

she’s holding a sleeping haru on her shoulder, smirking. her head tilts toward the front door.

i follow her gaze and stop.

standing in the doorway, all black casual business attire and silver rings, hair slightly messy.

mr. jeon.

he's one of those quieter parents, always on time. he's been bringing his 3 year old here for about 2 months and its always been him picking him up.

and never once have i heard jungha bring up his mom.

proabably a busy woman, i cringe at myself everytime i think i have a chance.

seriously? finding your student's dad attractive? you're sick y/n.

but he's such a dilffffffffffffffffffff—

"i'm here for jungha?"

i snap back into reality as i scan for jungha, my eyes land on a small figure by the gallery wall, quietly adjusting his drawing. when he sees his dad, he doesn’t run. doesn’t yell. he just walks over and tugs the edge of mr. jeon's sleeve.

“ready?” he says softly.

he crouches down, pulling him into a one-armed hug. his hand rests gently over jungha’s back, a subtle kind of affection.

“he was good today,” i say, stepping forward. “still quiet.”

mr. jeon looks at me. dark eyes, unreadable. “he usually is.”

i nod, offering a small smile. “he drew a rocket for you.”

jungha glances up at me. not a smile, exactly — just a blink, a flicker of acknowledgment.

he stands, adjusting the strap of jungha's bag. “thanks.”

he doesn’t linger. never does.

i slowly close up the bar as the clock hits 12am.

we don’t shut down until 2am but the rush is over. the shift’s been steady, not as wild as it got earlier during the basketball game, but a few stragglers here and there.

yoongi (he’s a newer face), is here — tucked into the end of the bar, sipping a belgian moon. he's been coming around more often, doesn’t talk much, doesn’t cause trouble, he tips well and waits quietly usually.

“refill?” i ask, wiping down the bar in front of him.

he lifts his glass slightly.

i pour a new pint and slide it back to him. “you waiting on someone?”

he glances at the door. “yeah. friend of mine.”

the door chimes.

i look up.

and stop breathing.

in a black shirt button up shirt, silver chain around his neck, the same messy-styled hair this morning.

mr. jeon.

he doesn’t notice me right away, more focused on yoongi, walking toward him with a nod.

they do that half hug — a quick clasp of hands and a shoulder tap before settling into the bar stools beside each other. mr. jeon mutters something low, and yoongi huffs a tired laugh in response.

i’m frozen in place behind the bar, turning away and crouching down pretending to find the bottle opener.

"congrats on your cousins gallery, man, you built that?"

“a bit,” yoongi answers. “been working on it since two years ago. happy to see it up.”

another soft chuckle. mr. jeon's voice is sounds lower, quieter, more relaxed than during his pickups. i peek up from behind the bar, just enough to catch him resting his forearms against the counter, silver rings catching the low light.

he looks good.

they talk about some mutual friend i don’t know, then mr. jeon finally glances toward the drink menu on the bar.

“you got tequila?” he asks, not looking at me yet.

i don’t move. just grab the bottle automatically and start pouring. “silver or gold?”

his head tilts. “gold.”

i slide the shot across the bar without thinking.

he reaches for it, fingers brushing the base and finally looks up.

his eyes meet mine.

and he freezes.

there’s a beat of silence where even yoongi seems to notice something shift. he blinks, eyebrows just barely lifting.

“…miss y/n?”

i raise a brow. “mr. jeon.”

yoongi turns, looking between us with a slow blink. “…wait.”

mr. jeon exhales like he’s trying not to laugh. “you work here?”

“four nights a week,” i say casually, resting one arm on the bar.

yoongi stares at his drink like it’s suddenly gotten way too interesting.

mr. jeon glances at him, then back at me. “she’s a teacher at jungha’s daycare,” he says, lips tugging into the smallest smirk. “interesting seeing you here.”

yoongi clears his throat like he’s trying not to get dragged in. “small world.”

“too small,” i mutter, pouring another round for someone down the bar.

yoongi finishes his beer, checks his phone, and lets out a sigh.

“alright. i’m calling it. see you?”

“depends if you call me first,” mr. jeon says, not looking up from his drink.

yoongi stands, gives me a small nod. “goodnight, y/n.”

“night, yoongi.” i manage, offering a small smile.

yoongi turns to mr. jeon. “you staying?”

“for a bit.”

yoongi just shrugs and claps a hand to his shoulder. “don’t bother her too much.”

“wasn’t planning to.”

once the door shuts behind him, the silence shifts.

mr. jeon doesn’t say anything. just sips from his shot glass and scrolls through his phone while i work my way around the bar, wiping down tables and stacking chairs.

by the time i flip the lights behind the bar, it’s just the two of us left.

he stretches slightly, standing as i pull on my jacket.

“you can call me jungkook, by the way,” he says suddenly, voice low.

i glance over. “oh?”

“i figured since yoongi’s throwing your first name around like that...”

i smirk. “y/n.” tilting my head a little—“you sure? ‘mr. jeon’ has such a nice ring to it.”

he laughs softly, a bit breathier this time. “only during pick-up hours.”

i zip up my jacket and sling my bag over my shoulder.

he doesn’t move right away, just watches me from where he’s standing, hands in his pockets, eyes following every small movement.

i head toward the front door and flick off the last neon sign in the window. silence wraps around us.

“where’s your car?” he asks.

i hesitate. “a couple blocks down.”

he nods once. no hesitation. “i’ll walk you.”

“you don’t have to.”

“i know.”

he says it so simply. i look at him for a second longer than necessary, then push the door open.

outside, the street is quiet. the sky’s clear, streetlights humming. my boots hit the pavement, his strides just slightly heavier beside mine.

we don’t talk for a while, just walk. his hands are in his coat pockets, mine gripping the strap of my bag.

after a minute, he glances over. “do you usually get off this late?”

“mm. depends on the crowd. tonight was mild.”

he hums in acknowledgment. “do you walk to your car alone every time?”

“i don’t really think about it.”

“you should.”

he’s not looking at me. just ahead, eyes calm, jaw clenched.

my car comes into view, we slow to a stop beside it.

“thanks,” i say, turning to unlock the door.

he nods. “you get home safe, y/n.”

it’s the way he says it; like it’s a request and a promise at the same time. its makes my chest feel strangely full.

i open the door, one foot inside, then glance back at him.

“see you tomorrow?”

his eyes flicker to mine, a corner of his mouth barely tugging up. “yeah. see you tomorrow.”

i get in.

he doesn’t walk away until i’ve closed the door, engine rumbling to life. hands in his pockets. watching.

ugh, its the morning.

i’m half-running on fumes when i open the daycare doors at 7:20.

my hairs tied up, coffee half-spilled on my hoodie, and a stack of paper stars tucked under my arm for today’s “space explorer” theme.

i kneel by the cubbies, taping up names for coat hooks when the bell above the door chimes.

i don’t look right away. just call, “morning!”

small footsteps patter across the floor.

a quiet thud against my leg.

i freeze.

then look down.

jungha.

his little arms wrap around my shin, his cheek smushed into my knee like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

i blink.

"morning jungha,”

his face stays buried for a second, then he pulls back just enough to hold up something clutched in his fist.

a folded paper rocket with red scribbles, my name in shaky letters on the side.

“you forgot this,” he mumbles.

my chest squeezes unexpectedly.

i take it, kneeling down. “thank you, astronaut jungha. i’ll keep it safe.”

his lips twitch upward, just barely—before he scurries off toward the coloring table.

then i glance up.

and there he is.

mr. jeon. leaning in the doorway, dressed in black slacks and a slate grey crewneck. same silver chain, one hand in his pocket, the other resting against the doorframe.

his gaze is steady.

not cold, not unreadable, just… watching.

something flickers between us then—small, unspoken.

“you get home okay the other night?”

my breath catches a little.

i nod. “yeah. thanks again.”

his mouth curves, subtle. “see you.”

“see you.”

and then he’s gone.

but i’m still standing there.

paper rocket in hand.

“...you good?” kyla’s voice floats in from the other side of the room, casual, but i know her too well.

i turn, slowly.

she’s leaning against the play kitchen with a plastic banana in one hand, eyebrows raised.

i clear my throat, shove the rocket into my hoodie pocket. “yep. great. just.. tired.”

“mhm.." she hums, biting back a grin. “tired from working late… or from walking to your car with mr. jeon?”

i blink. “how—”

“you had that look.” she shrugs.

“kyla.”

“he walked you to your car, didn’t he?”

i press my lips together. silence is apparently confession enough.

she whistles. “girl. i’ve been saying. the way he watches you at pick-up like he’s trying not to cross a line? but also might be imagining you in nothing but one of those tiny daycare aprons?”

i groan, dragging a hand over my face. “stop.”

“what? i’m just saying. he’s quiet. hot. good dad. you’re single. he’s single. jungha likes you. the universe is doing its job.”

“he’s a parent.”

“and?”

i narrow my eyes. “you’re impossible.”

she winks, already turning back to the kids. “just don’t be surprised when he shows up with a second paper rocket and a coffee.”

aaaaaaaaand.. what the fuck.

jungkook walks in at pickup with a coffee in his hand.

i dont even need to look back at kyla to hear her snickering behind me.

i pretend i don’t notice. pretend i’m completely focused on taping up the last few drawings from this morning — crooked crayon suns and glittery stick people — even as i feel him walk closer.

“you’re early,” i say, not turning.

“got off work early.”

i glance over, finally.

he holds the coffee out toward me. “thought you might want this.”

i blink. “…for me?”

he nods, a little too casual. “you looked tired the other night.”

i take it, slowly. the cup’s warm against my palm, and for a second i forget how to hold eye contact properly.

“…thanks.”

his mouth twitches. “cream, no sugar. that okay?”

“how did you—?”

“jungha says you like it like that. said you told him it was ‘adult coffee.’”

i blink again.

kyla cackles from across the room. i don’t even try to hide my glare.

“you have spies,” i mutter.

“i have a very observant kid,” jungkook replies smoothly.

i turn to see jungha run toward him at full speed, backpack swinging wildly. jungkook crouches and catches him effortlessly with one arm, pulling him in.

“did you draw another rocket today?” he asks softly.

jungha nods and glances at me. “this one’s for miss y/n.”

he digs around in his cubby and hands me a folded piece of construction paper. the rocket is lopsided, the stars are pink, and my name is spelled wrong.

i feel my chest actually ache.

“thank you, jungha,” i say, kneeling down. “i’ll put this right next to the one from this morning.”

he just nods again and slips his hand into his dad’s.

jungkook meets my eyes as he adjusts the strap on his son’s backpack. “see you around, y/n.”

“you too… jungkook.”

as they walk out, kyla sidles up next to me.

“you’re so fucked,” she sings.

i sip the coffee. it’s perfect.

“…yeah,” i whisper. “i know.”

it’s sunday night and the bar is slow — the kind of slow that makes you count bottle caps and restack coasters just to feel like time’s passing.

the overhead lights buzz louder without a crowd. the tv murmurs with a baseball game no one’s watching. it’s been like this all shift. mellow. forgettable.

and i was kinda hoping it wouldn’t be.

friday came and went.

so did saturday.

no jungkook.

no black button-up, no tequila order, no silent glances from across the bar that made my chest feel like it couldn’t settle.

i told myself it wasn’t a big deal. how he probably got busy or had plans or maybe walking a daycare teacher to her car once at 2am wasn’t as memorable for him as it was for me.

i mean… maybe i looked into it too much.

maybe it was just a one-time thing.

he was being polite, protective. like any decent guy would. i’ve just been tired, maybe the attention felt warmer than it actually was.

maybe i wanted it to mean something.

i lean on the bar, drag my rag across the same spot again.

“you’re spiraling,” kyla says from behind me, not even looking up as she restocks the glasses.

“i’m not.”

“you are. your face does that thing.”

i frown. “what thing?”

“the pouty one. where you’re convinced you read a guy wrong and now you’re punishing the countertop for it.”

i roll my eyes. “very specific.”

she shrugs. “very accurate.”

before i can argue, the door chimes.

i glance up automatically.

a group of three walks in. not him.

i swallow the twist of disappointment and straighten my posture. “booth or bar?”

kyla nudges my shoulder as she passes. “he’ll show.”

i don’t say anything.

but i hope she’s right, not just because it would mean he cares —

but because i think i really, really want him to.

the bar’s mostly clean. the register's closed, and i’m reaching under the counter for my bag when i hear kyla’s voice from the front.

“i’m heading out. you good to lock up?”

“yep,” i call back, pulling my coat on.

she swings the door open with her jacket already half-zipped, she turns to glance at me over her shoulder. “text me when you're home. don’t get kidnapped.”

“i'll try.”

the door clicks shut behind her, and then—

a knock.

i pause, slowly leaning to peek out the side window.

and there he is.

leaned up against the brick wall just outside the door. he’s scrolling his phone like he’s been there a while or like he only just got here and makes it look good.

i crack the door open. “we’re closed, you know.”

his eyes flick up from his screen, the corner of his mouth curves. “figured.”

“then what are you doing here, mr. jeon?”

he shrugs. “sunday’s slow. thought maybe you’d need a walk home.”

i blink. “you stalking my schedule now?”

“maybe.” he shifts off the wall. “or maybe your friend told me you usually bus it on sunday nights.”

kyla.

“and you waited out here?”

“you’re not the only one with good timing.”

i step out and lock the door behind me, shoulders hunching slightly against the chill. he walks beside me, casual, hands stuffed into his pocket.

“you missed friday and saturday,” i say after a beat.

“wasn’t avoiding you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“who said i was thinking that?”

he laughs under his breath. “were you?”

“if i was mistaken,” i murmur, “i’d think you have a crush on me, mr. jeon.”

his steps slow just a little.

“you’re not mistaken.”

my breath catches.

“but if it makes you feel better,” he adds, a slight curve tugging at his mouth, “i’m trying to be subtle about it.”

“this is you being subtle?”

he finally lets out a low laugh. “you should see me when i’m obvious.”

he says it like a joke, but there’s a flicker in his eyes when he looks at me that makes my pulse stutter.

i try to ignore it.

“so,” i say, clearing my throat, “do you do this for all your kid’s teachers?”

“just the pretty ones that make my kid smile,” he says, no pause.

i stop in my tracks.

he doesn’t.

just keeps walking a few steps ahead, like he didn’t just casually drop that into the night air and walk away from it.

“…wow,” i mutter, catching up. “bold.”

we fall into step again, quieter now. the wind rustles through a tree nearby.

the breeze gets there first, curling under my coat sleeve. i shiver.

he notices.

“cold?” he asks.

“a little.”

without a word, he tugs the jacket over his shoulders and holds it out. it smells like clean laundry and faint cologne. i hesitate, but he gives me a look.

i pull it over my head.

“you look warm,” he says, flicking his keys from his pocket. “come on. i’ll drive you.”

“you don’t have to—”

“i know,” he says again, unlocking the car. “but i want to.”

the inside of his car smells like pine and something faintly sweet. the passenger seat’s already warm from the heater. i buckle in, tucking my hands into the sleeves.

he glances over as he pulls out onto the road. “comfortable?”

i nod.

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. we fall into a silence, the city blurs with amber lights and red signals, windshield wipers wiping the early drizzle.

i swallow. “you know this is weird, right?”

“what is?”

“you. me. this.”

authors note: i kinda liked writing this, it was a very new trope for me but ill have part 2 soon!

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts army #jungkook smut #jungkook ff

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lovetales · 9 days ago

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JIMIN & JUNGKOOK Military Discharge | 250611

#jimin #park jimin #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jikook #bts #bangtan #dailybts #btsedit #my gifs #they were so shy n giggly my sillies :(

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ggukivrse · 1 day ago

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THE ART OF PRETENDING - JJK | 05

summary. when you and jungkook show up to your much anticipated graduation trip and realise neither of you had the guts to tell your friends about your recent break up, there’s only one thing you can do to keep the trip from falling apart: pretend.

but somewhere between fake kisses and real feelings, you start to wonder if letting go was ever the right choice at all.

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings: exes to lovers, fake dating, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, (eventual) explicit sexual content, swearing, alcohol consumption, kissing, making out (?), you guys are gonna hate me lolol, reader and jk are both stupid, ft. seokjin, namjoon, hoseok, jimin, taehyung, yoongi + four female ocs

word count: 8.1k

notes: i did NOT think this would take this long, i’m so sorry angels :< as always, like, comments, reblogs, feedback and asks are so appreciated!!! enjoy reading <33

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⤷ chapter five — anything

i don’t wanna talk about anything / i wanna kiss, kiss you eyes again / wanna witness your eyes lookin’

You wake up to warmth.

It takes you a second to realise it’s not the kind that comes from the sun bleeding through the sheer curtains. It’s heavier than that. Warmer. It smells like the detergent he always uses, that subtle citrus blend you used to make fun of for being “too clean.” You shift slightly; not enough to stir anything, but just enough to check.

Yep. That’s his arm, still draped across your waist.

He’s curled behind you, breathing steady, chest rising and falling against your back. One of his legs has somehow found its way tangled with yours. His grip on you is loose, almost lazy, like even in sleep, he doesn't want to let go — but he would if you pulled away.

You don’t.

Your pillow is soft, but his chest was softer last night. You remember the way he just climbed into bed, half-drunk, barely conscious, and slung his arm around you. No hesitation. No asking. Just like nothing had changed.

And maybe, for a second, you’d let yourself pretend that was true.

Now, in the stillness of early morning, there’s something terrifyingly comforting about his hold. About the way your bodies fit together so seamlessly, like no time had passed at all.

And you can feel the small ache in your chest — the part of you that misses him so much you're not sure how to deal with it.

You miss the way he sleeps like he’s protecting you from something. You miss the way his warmth settles over you like a blanket. You miss... him.

Your hand twitches, like it wants to reach for his, but you don't move — you don't want to break the moment.

So you just stay still, letting yourself exist in the space between what was and what could’ve been. Letting yourself remember, even if just for a minute, what it felt like to be loved by him without question.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, eyes half-lidded and mind floating somewhere between sleep and something a little too close to dreaming.

Eventually, his breathing shifts.

Not a lot — just the kind of subtle change that lets you know he’s slipping out of sleep. His chest rises a little deeper, his fingers twitch once at your side, and you feel the slight tension in his leg where it’s tangled with yours.

You keep your eyes closed.

He doesn’t move immediately. In fact, for a second, you think maybe he’s still asleep after all. But then you feel it: the tiniest brush of his thumb against the hem of your shirt.

You hear him breathe in, a little sharper this time. Not quite a gasp, but close. The kind of inhale people take when they suddenly remember where they are, and who they’re with.

Then his voice, low and scratchy with sleep, murmurs near your ear, “Still drool in your sleep?”

You scoff, caught off guard, and shove at his arm without really meaning it.

“No,” you mutter, voice thick, “but you still snore.”

There’s a quiet laugh behind you. It's barely there, a warm exhale more than anything else, but it vibrates faintly through his chest where it rests against your back. It feels nice, but too easy. Like a bad habit.

Then, silence.

Another beat passes, and you can feel the change the moment it happens. Like something clicks back into place for him. His arm retracts slowly, the weight of it disappearing from around your waist. He shifts back a few inches — not a lot, but enough to put space where there hadn’t been any for hours.

You feel the loss immediately.

Your skin feels cooler where he was, your body suddenly too aware of the places that were warm just seconds ago. You don’t move. Don’t look at him. You just stare at the soft curve of light on the wall in front of you and pretend you don’t miss the closeness already.

“Sorry,” he says under his breath, barely audible. “Didn’t mean to... yeah.”

You nod, still facing forward. “It’s fine.”

But it’s not. Not really.

He sits up slowly, the mattress dipping under his weight as he pulls his legs over the edge of the bed. You don’t turn around, but you can hear the way he rubs at his face with his hands, the quiet sound of palms dragging over skin.

“Sun’s already up,” he says, like you hadn’t noticed.

You hum in agreement, but you don’t say anything else.

He sits there on the edge of the bed for a second, then lets out a groan. "Fuck," he mutters. "How much did I drink last night?"

You shift slightly on the mattress, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. His hair’s a mess, flattened on one side and sticking up in soft waves on the other. It makes you smile.

“Judging by the way you came in here like a tranquilised bear? Enough.”

He huffs a sound that might be a laugh, head hanging low. “Figures.”

He pushes himself up with a grunt, standing slow like the weight of being vertical is a little too much this early. There’s a faint crease across his cheek from the pillow, another on the side of his neck where the blanket must’ve bunched up under him. He scratches absently at his jaw, eyes still droopy.

You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t look at you.

He just stands there for a beat, arms loose at his sides, before murmuring, “I’m gonna go see if there’s coffee. You want anything?”

You finally roll over, propping yourself up on one elbow just in time to see him standing by the door, his hair messy and eyes avoiding yours.

You hesitate. “Coffee sounds good.”

He gives a small nod. “Okay.”

The door clicks softly behind him, and you’re alone in the room again. The only evidence he was ever there is the indent on the mattress beside you and the faint trace of citrus still lingering in the air.

You sigh, falling back against the pillow.

You hate how badly you already want him to come back.

The small Hello Kitty sticker on the side of Jungkook’s helmet is still there.

It’s barely hanging on now, faded from years of sun and road and rain, peeling slightly at the edge like it's just waiting for someone to come along and pull it off for good. But no one ever has. Not even him.

You remember the day you put it there. It was in your third year of college, and he’d just bought the bike and rolled it into the lot, grinning proudly. He was already talking about road trips; about escaping the city and taking you everywhere just because he knew how much you loved travelling. You’d pulled the sticker from your phone case and pressed it onto the side of the helmet before he could say anything.

He’d groaned. You’d grinned. He kept it.

And now, here you are — arms wrapped around him as the motorbike hums down the road toward town, your legs pressed tight against his. You ignore the overwhelming urge to press your cheek against his back and just relax against him.

The wind is warm, laced with salt. You feel it push through your clothes and tangle your hair, but most of all, you feel him — solid in front of you, body moving in sync with the turns. His shirt is damp with heat, and your fingers rest lightly against the fabric, careful not to hold too tight.

But you want to.

You feel his breath shift when the town comes into view, a small stretch of painted buildings and narrow streets nestled between the coastline and the hills. It’s beautiful — chipped and colourful, with flags strung between rooftops and open-air shops spilling out into the street.

He pulls into a spot near the edge of the square and cuts the engine. For a second, neither of you move. Your arms are still around him. Your chest is still mere centimetres away from his back. The silence settles in like heat.

When you finally slip off the bike, the world feels too bright. You run a hand through your hair, trying to tame the wind-tangled strands, and glance back just in time to see Jungkook unbuckle his helmet and set it on the seat. The sticker catches the light. So does his smile — soft, and slightly crooked as he smoothens the edges.

You take a few steps toward the square, eyes scanning the little street corners and shaded storefronts. There’s a carved wooden sign hanging from a crooked beam, and beside it, a wire rack of postcards spinning lazily in the breeze.

But no sign of Ari. Or Namjoon.

Which is funny because it was Ari who had convinced you to come down here in the first place.

You’d been perfectly content by the beach, book in hand, half-asleep in the sun, but she’d tugged you up and kept begging you to come with her until you finally gave in.

To be fair, she did have a good reason; the house was running critically low on groceries.

Somehow, she’d managed to convince Jungkook too — which honestly, you're glad about because there's nothing you hate more than third wheeling a happy couple — but no one else was swayed enough to tag along.

And now, she's the one that's late.

You shade your eyes with your hand and glance further down the street.

“They said they’d meet us here, right?” you ask, finally.

Your voice is quiet. You’re not even sure if it’s meant to break the silence or just soften it.

Jungkook lifts his phone halfway, thumb tapping the screen like it’s muscle memory. “Yeah,” he says, not looking up right away. “Ah, Namjoon just texted me there. They just got here, so they’re probably still looking for parking or something. He said they'll meet us eventually."

You nod once and step away from the curb, eyes trailing the narrow stretch of market street ahead. Sunlight glints off the tin roofs. There’s the murmur of voices, the occasional clink of glass, and the low thrum of a radio somewhere playing a song you don’t recognise but vaguely like.

Jungkook falls in beside you without a word.

A couple passes going the opposite way, their hands intertwined. You glance down at yours.

“We should probably start,” he says after a beat. “Since they’ll just meet us.”

You shrug. “You have the list, right?”

He unlocks his phone again and scrolls. “Yeah. Ari texted it to me this morning.”

“What’s on it?”

He reads as you both start walking again. “Eggs, lemons, bread. Peaches. Some kind of pasta. And then she added ‘whatever fruit looks pretty.’”

“What's that supposed to mean," you say, amusement lacing your voice.

"No idea."

You break off from the main road, following a shaded lane lined with uneven cobblestones and quieter stalls. The air’s a little cooler here, less crowded, the noise of the market fading to a background hum. You walk slowly, letting your shoulders drop, adjusting the tote bag looped over your arm as it shifts with the weight of everything you’ve already picked up.

So far: a bundle of slightly overripe peaches, a paper-wrapped loaf of bread, lemons, and some fresh mango juice.

Jungkook had gone to find water in some corner café he'd spotted, and you’d just nodded and wandered a little further on your own, not really thinking about where your feet were taking you.

Now, you’re standing in front of a narrow stall tucked between a linen vendor and a rack of second-hand books, and the table in front of you is lined with jewellery.

Nothing fancy — just a board of earrings propped on the table, arranged in uneven rows on pale linen. Some dangle, some are simple studs. Silver, gold, brushed metal, the occasional coloured stone.

You scan them slowly, half out of habit. You’ve been keeping an eye out since yesterday, hoping you might stumble across something like the ones you lost, but nothing here is quite right. Too ornate, too polished, too intentionally handmade.

Though, one pair does catch your eye: small hoops with a single pearl hanging from it. They're pretty.

You don’t pick them up.

Just stand there, letting the edge of your bag dig slightly into your shoulder, the sun hitting your arms in slow patches between the slats of the awning overhead.

The vendor is older, seated on a stool in the corner, half-hidden behind a stack of folded cloth. She doesn’t greet you. Just watches, quiet and patient, a thread of silver hair slipping from behind her ear.

You tuck your hands into your pockets, shift your weight to the other foot.

The earrings catch the light when you shift your stance — just a soft glint where the pearl curves beneath the hoop. You stare at them a second longer than you mean to, thumb brushing the strap of the tote against your hip.

“Pretty,” someone says behind you.

You blink, half-turn.

There’s a guy standing just outside the edge of the stall, arms crossed loosely over his chest, sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

You offer a polite nod.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says. “You just looked kind of... focused.”

You shrug. “Just browsing.”

He steps closer.

“Any good finds?”

Your hand tightens slightly around the bag handle. “I’m just looking at earrings.”

His eyes flick to the table like he hadn’t actually noticed it until now. “Right. The pearls are cute. I could see them on you.”

You don’t answer. Just shift your weight, subtly angling your body away.

He doesn’t pick up on it. Or maybe he does and doesn’t care.

“You from around here?” he asks, like he’s picking up a conversation that was never started.

You glance down the alley, scanning for a glimpse of Jungkook, but it’s still quiet — just the linen swaying in the heat, a burst of laughter carrying from somewhere across the square.

“No,” you say, clipped.

He smiles like that was the answer he wanted. “Yeah, figured. You’ve got that kind of—” he gestures vaguely. “Not-local look.”

You’re not sure what that means. You don’t ask.

“Vacation?” he tries again.

You glance back at the table, pretending to study a thin necklace you’re not really looking at. “I’m waiting for someone.”

The guy hums, still standing there.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, almost like it's a joke. Like he already knows what he thinks the answer is.

You don’t look at him. “Yeah.”

Another beat passes.

And he says, “Don’t see him.”

You square your shoulders slightly, still not facing him.

“I told you, I'm waiting for him. I don’t need company,” you say.

He lets out a little laugh. “I’m just making conversation.”

You press your lips together and turn, this time fully, eyes meeting his just long enough to say I’m done.

And still, he lingers.

But his smile falters for a brief second, almost as if he’s not used to not being smiled at. Not used to being dismissed.

“Look,” he says again, something shifting under his voice now — flatter, slightly annoyed, like he’s decided you’re being difficult for no reason.

You stay silent, eyes on the earrings, jaw tight.

For a second, you think about just walking away. Heading back through the stalls, finding a different corner to browse that doesn’t come with commentary and unwanted company. You should’ve just stayed with Jungkook. Should’ve waited by the fruit stand like you said you would instead of wandering off like this.

You shift your weight again, about to turn to walk away when you hear the easy scrape of sneakers against stone behind you.

Relief blooms in your chest as the steady weight of Jungkook's palm settles low on your back.

“Hey baby,” he says, voice smooth, a little softer than it needs to be. “Sorry, it took forever.”

You turn toward him instinctively, letting your shoulder brush his chest, relief flooding through you.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you. His attention is on the guy, who’s already taking a step back.

The stranger raises an eyebrow, trying for a laugh. “Didn’t realise she was taken.”

Jungkook’s tone doesn’t change. “She is.”

You don’t pull away.

The guy looks between the two of you — sizing up, maybe, but the math’s already been done. He’s not stupid. He huffs a small breath through his nose and nods, like this was all just a misunderstanding.

“All good,” he says, and turns to walk off.

Only once he’s out of sight do you finally breathe. Jungkook’s hand stays where it is.

“Fucker,” you mutter, glancing back toward the street. “I literally fucking told him I had a boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles — a quiet, amused curve of his mouth, like he’s holding back more than he’s saying.

“You delivered it well,” he says. “Had me convinced.”

You shoot him a look, but your irritation is already starting to melt at the sight of him.

“I should’ve thrown a lemon at him.”

“You did buy extra.”

That pulls a genuine laugh from you, and he hands you the water bottle like nothing happened at all. His fingers graze yours — not long enough to mean anything, but long enough to notice.

You take a sip.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods once, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Comes with the role, right?” He nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. “Acting boyfriend of the year.”

You raise a brow, lips curving. “Please, you’re barely qualified.”

"Uhm, ouch?"

You laugh again, leaning into the teasing by gently nudging his side.

Jungkook shifts beside you, elbow lightly brushing yours as he nods toward the side of the stall. “You know what we should get?”

You glance over at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “What?”

He tips his chin toward a tray tucked beside the earrings — a neat line of woven bracelets laid out in rows, some beaded, some braided, some with tiny charms strung through the middle like afterthoughts. “Matching couple bracelets.”

Your brow lifts. “That’s bold.”

He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Just saying. That way, if someone else tries to come up to you again, you can just lift your wrist or something. Plus, it'll get Ari off your ass.”

You look down at the bracelets. Most of them are simple. Worn leather cords. Clay beads in dusky colours. A few pale shells strung on white string. The kind of thing you would’ve scoffed at years ago. Now… you kind of like the idea.

Still, you don’t let him off that easy.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say slowly, reaching out to nudge one with your finger. It rolls in place, beads clicking softly against the table. Then, a beat later, you glance sideways at him. “You know, if you want to match with me… you could just say that.”

He scoffs under his breath, but his mouth curves like you’ve caught him. “I literally just did.”

You smile without meaning to. “No, you disguised it as self-defense.”

He leans a little closer, voice low and casual like he’s letting you in on something. “Well, your safety is my top priority.”

“Sure,” you say, dragging out the word. “Let’s pretend that’s the reason.”

Jungkook holds up both hands like he’s innocent. “Hey, if matching bracelets keep weird guys away and makes us more convincing to everyone else, I think we’ve found the perfect investment.”

You roll your eyes, but your hand lingers over one of the pairs — two braided threads in muted navy and cream. His gaze follows yours, and you don’t miss the way his fingers brush close to yours when he reaches to pick them up.

He turns one over in his hand, quiet for a moment. “These okay?”

You meet his eyes. “Yeah. They’re nice.”

He pays for them — slipping a few folded bills to the vendor without looking at you — and you don’t stop him. You just put out your hand and let him tie it around your wrist, before doing the same for him.

You both linger for a second after the knots are tied, wrists side by side, the new bracelets snug against your skin. His fingers ghost over yours when he lets go.

“See?” he says, voice soft. “Official now.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile tugs at your lips anyway. You’re not sure if it's from the joke or the fact that he hasn’t stepped away yet.

Then his phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking whatever invisible thread was hanging between you.

He pulls it out, thumb swiping across the screen. His eyes flick across the message.

“It’s Namjoon,” he says. “They’re around the corner, by that little gelato place.”

You nod, ready to follow, but before you can move, Jungkook slips his hand into yours.

The movement is so smooth, so casual, like it’s nothing. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His fingers lace between yours with practiced ease, like they’ve done a thousand times before — because they have.

Your breath catches for half a second, but you don’t pull away.

He starts walking, gently tugging you along behind him, navigating through the narrow alley like he knows exactly where to go. His grip is firm but easy, thumb brushing once against the back of your hand as he adjusts your pace to match his.

And fuck, how you've missed this.

By the time you, Jungkook, Ari, and Namjoon made it back from town, everyone had drifted to the beach, bottles already half empty in hand. Naturally, the four of you joined in almost immediately.

Now, the sun hangs low over the ocean, melting slow into the horizon, throwing streaks of deep orange and pale lilac across the sky. The sand beneath you is warm, still holding onto the heat of the day, and the breeze smells like burnt sugar from someone’s abandoned marshmallow.

There’s a bonfire going, and everyone’s settled in a loose sprawl around it, feet kicked up, shoes long since discarded. Blankets are half-buried in the sand, and there's a speaker somewhere playing a random song no one has bothered to skip.

Seokjin and Haeun are curled together near the fire, trading sips of something dark from a flask. Taehyung’s stretched out with his head in Yasmine’s lap, sunglasses still on, despite the sun being nearly gone. Namjoon’s half-asleep, leaning back on his elbows and arguing about constellations with Hoseok.

Jungkook sits beside you. His legs are stretched out, knees bent, one arm hooked around the neck of a bottle he hasn’t touched in a while. There’s a subtle red glow along the edge of his cheek from the firelight. He’s watching the flames, brow relaxed, and you wonder if he’s even noticed how close your knee is to his.

You’re three drinks past tipsy. Four, maybe. Whatever the number is, it stopped mattering after the second time you laughed so hard your face hurt. Your skin feels flushed, limbs loose, everything a little too loud and a little too lovely.

You’re holding a glass in your hand and when you tip it back, only a lukewarm sip greets you. You shake the glass above your mouth, trying to summon more, but you only manage a few drops.

You glance around. Taehyung is still holding a beer, someone else’s drink sits forgotten near a towel, but the vodka — the one you’d claimed earlier, the one you’ve been nursing all night — is gone. Empty. Bottle tossed sideways near Kiara’s ankle.

You frown, squinting at it like it might magically refill if you look disappointed enough.

“We’re out,” you announce.

Your voice comes out rougher than you expect. The circle barely reacts — just a few shrugs, a lazy groan from someone too comfortable to care.

You push your hands against the sand and slowly rise to your feet, not bothering to brush it off your legs. The world tips, then steadies.

“I’ll grab more,” you say, already turning toward the path that leads back up the beach, toward the house.

Jungkook shifts next to you.

His voice is calm, but something in it feels closer. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

You pause, glance over your shoulder. He’s looking at you now, legs still stretched out in front of him, hand still around the neck of the bottle — but his focus is sharp. You tilt your head, expression loose.

“What, you think I’m gonna fall into a bush?”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “I’m saying I’ve seen you trip over air.”

You roll your eyes, already turning back toward the path. “I’ll be fine.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose — just the smallest huff of a sound — then pushes up from the sand with a groan. He dusts off the back of his jeans, tossing the bottle onto a towel.

“Wait up,” he says, catching up to you in a few easy strides. “I’ll come.”

You pause again, frowning faintly. “You don’t have to.”

“You’re drunk,” he says simply, meeting your eyes like that should be the whole argument.

It kind of is.

You shrug, not really fighting him on it. “Fine. But you’re carrying the new bottle.”

“Deal,” he says, and you’re already walking again, sand shifting under your feet as the last of the sun bleeds into the sea behind you.

The path up from the beach isn’t long, but it stretches just enough to make you feel the weight of your steps. You walk beside him in silence at first, the kind that’s filled with the hush of your own breath and the faint pop and crackle of the fire behind you.

He walks a step behind you at first, and you can feel the rhythm of his footsteps syncing to yours.

“Still think I’m gonna trip?” you mutter, not looking back.

“I’ve seen you fall off a curb while standing still,” he says, casual.

“That was one time.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “Sure it was.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, and his mouth pulls into that crooked grin that used to mean everything to you.

It still might.

When you reach the edge of the porch, you pause to shake the sand from your ankles. He opens the screen door with one hand, letting you step through first without a word.

The air inside the house is cooler, shadows stretching across the walls where the sun hasn’t fully let go. The hum of distant music still trails in from the beach, muffled now, wrapped in layers of wood and silence.

You kick your shoes off at the door and Jungkook follows behind you.

The kitchen light is off, but there’s enough ambient glow from the setting sun through the windows to see. You move toward the counter on autopilot, stepping over someone’s forgotten hoodie on the floor. Your body’s loose, hips swinging slightly as you walk, unbothered by how your tank top’s ridden up a little from the waistband of your shorts.

Jungkook makes a soft noise behind you, like he’s about to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he goes to the sink, running the tap and filling a glass.

You find the stash of liquor tucked behind the blender. Whoever stocked the place has questionable taste — peach schnapps, a half-full bottle of cheap whiskey, something unlabelled that smells like danger. But the vodka’s there, unopened. Cold from the fridge.

You pull it out with a small victorious sound and place it on the counter with a thud. The bottle’s condensation beads against your fingers.

Jungkook sets the glass of water down beside you and leans his hip against the counter.

“Drink that first,” he says, nudging the water toward you.

You groan, but reach for it anyway, your fingers brushing against his. They linger longer than they need to. You don’t move them.

“Responsible,” you murmur, bringing the glass to your lips. “Since when are you the responsible one?”

“Since you decided to replace dinner with mango juice and vodka.”

You hum at that, taking a slow sip. The water’s ice-cold, and the chill hits your throat all the way down, sharp enough to make you blink.

He watches you swallow, jaw flexing slightly.

“You’re staring,” you say, teasing, eyes glinting under the dim light.

“You’re drunk.”

“You said that already.”

“I’ll say it again if you keep looking at me like that.”

You laugh, short and soft, setting the glass down a little too forcefully. Some water sloshes over the side and you don't even care.

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Liar.”

You tilt your head and smile, stepping closer, into his space. Your arm brushes against his. He doesn’t step back.

He smells like sun and sea and a little like smoke, and the sharpness of the scent makes your chest tighten. You lean your hip against the counter, closer now, your shoulder touching his as you both look at the bottle between you like it’s something important.

“You look good,” you say, and your voice is low — blurry with the buzz in your blood, but not slurred. Just honest.

He glances down at you, one brow raising, like he’s surprised but not really. “You’re drunk,” he repeats, gentler this time.

You shrug. “Still true.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

Not right away.

He just stands there, eyes still on yours, like he's waiting for something — waiting for you to laugh, maybe. To wave it off. Turn away. But you don’t. You stay close. Too close. The air between you is warm and still, humming with something you don’t want to name. Not yet.

And maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the way the last of the sunset catches in his lashes, turning the brown of his eyes molten — but you swear, for a second, his gaze drops to your lips.

Your heart beats harder than it should. Like it’s thinking louder than your brain.

You shift, just slightly, your hand coming down to rest on the counter beside his. Your pinky brushes his. The silence stretches, heavy and soft, and you can feel your own pulse pressing up against your ribs like it’s trying to claw out.

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

It’s quiet — so quiet you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t already tracking everything about him. The slight shift in the set of his jaw. The way his fingers twitch once, like they want to move but don’t. He’s still watching you, still breathing like he’s trying not to let it show. But his gaze drops to your lips again and you're certain you're not imagining it this time.

“You’re drunk,” he says again, softer this time. Like he’s reminding himself.

You blink, slow and lazy, like the weight of the moment is pressing down behind your eyes. But you don’t move away. Don’t close the gap.

“Not that drunk,” you murmur, and it’s not a defense. It’s the truth, or close enough. You know how you feel. Know what you want.

Still, he hesitates.

His hand lifts like he wants to touch you — your arm, your waist, your jaw, something — but he doesn’t let it land. It just hovers there in the space between you, fingers flexing slightly. Like he’s waiting for permission. Or maybe for you to step back. Like he’s giving you one last chance not to want this.

But you don’t step back.

You hold still and let the silence stretch, taut as a wire between you.

“I don’t want you to regret anything,” he says.

You tilt your head, just a little. The corner of your mouth curls — not quite teasing, not quite sweet. “Then make sure I don't.”

That does it.

Something in him cracks. Or maybe he just exhales, finally, after holding his breath for weeks, months, too long.

He leans in.

And when he kisses you, it’s soft. So soft it makes your chest ache.

His lips brush yours like he’s scared you’ll disappear. Like he’s scared he’ll ruin it if he pushes too hard. His hand finally settles at your waist, the touch almost featherlight. You let your eyes fall shut as your fingers curl against the counter’s edge, your breath catching.

You’re not thinking clearly — not really. Your thoughts are cotton-wrapped and soft at the edges. The vodka, the heat, the way his lips feel on yours — it’s all tangled together now. You should probably be more careful with this. You should probably be thinking harder, asking him the all the questions that have been clawing at the back of your throat since the moment you two ended before letting this happen.

But you don’t want to. Not tonight.

You don’t want to pick this apart or hold it up to the light. Not when it feels like this. Not when his hands are on your waist, not when your mouth still feels like his.

Not when you’re this close to feeling whole again.

So you let it go.

Just for now.

You kiss him back slowly, deliberately, mouth parting just enough to deepen it. And when you do, he melts. A little. Just enough to let you feel the want he’s been trying not to show. The way he leans into you like he’s been waiting for this, needing this, and now that he has it, he’s terrified to let it go.

His hand at your waist grips tighter, pulling you in, and your chest brushes his. You slide one hand up to the side of his neck, your thumb brushing the curve of his throat, and he shivers under it, like the touch unravels him.

He parts your lips with his again, slower this time, and you sigh into his mouth — soft and involuntary and full of everything you haven’t said — and it pull something from him.

Jungkook's kisses turn firmer — still slow, still careful, but less afraid. Like whatever restraint he was holding onto just loosened a little.

You can feel the way his breath catches when your hand slips into his hair. The way he leans into it, barely chasing your touch. His thumb strokes slow, unconscious circles into your waist, and when your lips part again, he meets you there without hesitation.

You kiss him one more time.

Slow, like you’re trying to memorise the shape of it. Like you don’t know when you’ll let yourself have this again.

Then you pull back — not because you want to, but because if you don’t now, you might never.

It’s gentle. Barely a breath of distance. Just enough to meet his eyes, just enough to remember where you are. Your lips still tingle from the press of his, and your fingers stay curled in the fabric at his shoulder, not quite letting go yet.

His eyes flutter open, dazed and soft, and your thumb brushes the edge of his jaw before you drop your hand to your side.

Your lips hover over his, still close enough to feel the heat of him. He exhales, the sound soft and staggered.

“The others are probably waiting,” you murmur, voice low, breath a little unsteady.

His eyes open slowly, gaze heavy-lidded and warm as it settles on you. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just looks at you, like he’s trying to decide if he’s allowed to want this much.

“Let them wait," he mumbles.

You soft giggle leaves your lips at his words and he can't help but smile too, and it's real and a little stupid because of course he’d say that. Of course he’d look at you like that.

Your forehead presses gently to his for just a second, and he doesn’t move, but you feel his hand twitch at your waist, almost as if he’s not sure whether to pull you in again or let you go.

And god, part of you wants to stay. Wants to forget the weight of all the unanswered questions sitting heavy at the bottom of your stomach. Wants to let this keep happening. Just him and you and whatever the fuck this is.

But you don't. Instead, you lean back a little, just enough to get a proper look at him.

He looks dazed. Soft around the edges. His lips are pink, still wet from the kiss, and there’s this look on his face — like you could pull him back in with a single breath and he wouldn’t fight you on it.

Your gaze drops briefly to his mouth, then back up to his eyes before taking a small step back.

Your hand fall from his shirt and you reach for the vodka bottle on the counter. It’s still slick with condensation, and your grip slips slightly before you adjust.

You turn toward the door, feet padding softly against the cool floor, unable to stop smiling.

Jungkook stays behind you for just a breath, before you hear the shuffle of his steps as he follows.

It’s only been a few minutes since you and Jungkook made it back to the fire, vodka bottle in hand and cheeks just a little too flushed.

Now, the two of you sit side by side on a shared blanket, close but not too close, feet stretched out toward the fire. And despite your best efforts, you keep catching each other’s eyes.

It’s stupid. So stupid.

But every time it happens, one of you looks away, smiling.

You’re mid-sip when someone sighs dramatically into the circle, long and loud and theatrical.

“I’m bored,” Kiara announces, collapsing backwards onto a throw pillow someone must’ve stolen from the porch chairs. One arm flops over her face; the other lifts her cup to the sky dramatically

“You’re drunk,” Jimin says, somewhere behind a stack of solo cups. His voice is lazy, amused. “That’s different.”

“Drunk and bored,” she corrects, lifting her head. “Which is objectively worse.”

Someone snorts — maybe Hoseok — and Haeun mumbles something about how this is supposed to be a chill night, how she’s too full to function. You agree — the fire’s burning low, and no one looks like they’re in a rush to do anything.

Except Taehyung, who perks up suddenly, sunglasses still on even though the sun’s been gone for hours.

“We should play something,” he says, too enthusiastic. “Old-school, like we used to. Come on.”

There’s a round of groans — some weak, some performative. A few “nooo”s and a “please don’t make me move” from Namjoon. But Taehyung doesn’t let it die.

“You know what I’m thinking,” he adds, already grinning. “Truth or drink.”

That gets a bigger reaction. Jimin laughs like he’s been waiting for this exact moment all night and Kiara groans and says something you can't quite make out.

Beside you, Jungkook lets out a soft sound that might be a sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You lean back on your palms and squint at the fire.

“No,” you say, not looking up. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” Kiara whines, bumping your knee with hers. “It’s for old times’ sake.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung adds, already sitting up straighter, brushing sand from his thighs. “We literally used to play this every other week in college. Don’t act brand new.”

You're opening your mouth to protest and complain some more when Jungkook leans in, voice casual as he says, "I'm in."

You blink, glancing at him just quick enough to catch the faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

With a sigh, you tip the last of your drink back and swallow hard. “Fine,” you say, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. “But I’m not going first.”

Taehyung cheers. Someone claps. The bottle cap twists loose, and suddenly cups are being refilled, rules half-remembered shouted into the dark.

Everyone huddles closer together, and you put out your hands in front of you, letting the warmth of the flame dance across your skin.

Yasmine spins the bottle. It wobbles across the sand, slows, then lands pointing somewhere between Ari and Namjoon.

“Ooooh,” Taehyung says, wiggling his brows. “A couple round already?”

Ari laughs, unbothered. “Hit me.”

Yasmine leans in. “Alright. If you had to kiss someone here who isn’t Namjoon—”

Namjoon throws his hands up. “Wow. First question.”

“—who would it be?”

Ari purses her lips, glancing around the circle dramatically. “Hmm… probably Haeun.”

Haeun immediately covers her face with both hands as everyone laughs, and Seokjin wraps an arm around her, pretending to shield her from further corruption. “Yah, back off,” he says, laughing.

The bottle spins again, this time landing on Jimin.

Ari smirks. “Have you ever made out with someone here and not told the group?”

Jimin lifts his cup halfway with a sigh, freezes, then drinks anyway.

You have a feeling you know who it is, but you don't say anything as Yasmine and Jungkook immediately start yelling over each other.

“Who was it?!” Yasmine demands, eyes wide.

“Seriously, who?” Jungkook adds, pointing his cup at Jimin like he’s about to interrogate him under a spotlight.

"Not telling," Jimin replies in a sing song voice before spinning the bottle.

It slows until it lands squarely on Jungkook.

You glance at him. He doesn’t flinch.

Jimin squints at him, letting out a hum like he’s considering a deep philosophical question. “Alright. What’s your biggest regret?”

You freeze before you can stop yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. He stares at the bottle. Then at Seokjin. Then, just as calmly, he picks up his cup and takes a drink.

It’s quiet for a beat. Jimin groans. “Lame.”

“Strategic,” Jungkook replies, setting his cup down again.

Without missing a beat, he reaches for the bottle and spins.

It rolls smoothly through the sand before stopping at Kiara.

“Oh god,” she mutters, already bracing herself.

Jungkook’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Weirdest place you’ve fucked.”

Kiara groans, but she’s grinning. “You guys are the worst.”

“Come on,” Yasmine says. “No way you don’t have a good one.”

She sighs, thinking. "Nowhere crazy, just in the back of his car.”

"Boringg," whines Jimin, and Hoseok just laughs as Kiara reaches for the bottle again.

It turns, slowly, then comes to a stop pointed at you.

You tense a little, just for a second. Kiara catches it — she doesn’t say anything, but her smile softens.

She tilts her head. “Would you ever take back an ex?”

You blink.

There’s a beat — just a flicker — where your brain stalls. The question lands soft, not sharp, but it still makes your pulse skip a little. You lean back on your palms and tilt your head toward the fire, letting the heat lick at your cheeks like it might hide the flush.

Then, without much thought, you answer.

“Nah,” you say, casually.

Your tone is light. You smile around the rim of your cup as you take a small sip, and raise your eyebrows at Kiara like it’s a no-brainer. Because, really, what girlfriend is going to say yes to that kind of question when her boyfriend’s sitting two feet away?

Kiara simply shrugs, like she already knew what you'd say and lean forward to spin the bottle. You don't notice who it stops at because you turning to look at Jungkook, a small smile playing on your lips.

You expect him to smile back. Or roll his eyes. Or whisper something stupid, like 'Really? Not even after you made out with him the kitchen?'.

But he doesn’t.

He’s looking at the fire.

His cup is loose in his grip, his thumb brushing over the rim once before going still. He doesn’t make a face. Doesn’t say anything. But there’s something… quiet about him now. Like he’s stepped back from the circle without actually moving.

You blink, puzzled for half a second, but someone’s already laughing at something Jimin said and Kiara’s reaching for the bottle again, so you brush it off and take another sip of your drink.

The fire pops in the background as the questions continue. Someone asks Namjoon what his favourite position is (cowgirl), how many people Haeun has slept with (three), what Yoongi's biggest fantasy it (he chooses to drink).

Eventually, someone mumbles something about calling it, and no one protests. The fire’s burned low, just embers now, and the ocean breeze has started to bite. Haeun's already dragging Seokjin to his feet, Namjoon’s helping Ari brush sand off her pants, and slowly the circle breaks apart.

You push yourself to your feet, arms wobbling a bit as you dust the sand from your shorts. It takes longer than it should. Everything takes longer than it should. You feel warm and floaty and kind of like a loose kite being dragged around by your own legs.

You’d only been asked the one question all night, but you’re pretty sure you’ve had enough to drink for ten.

Jungkook stands next to you. He doesn’t say anything, but when you wobble slightly, the back of his hand brushes yours. You grin down at your feet.

Everyone starts peeling off, drifting toward the cabins in sleepy pairs. Taehyung’s got Yasmine slung across his back like a backpack. Ari’s hanging onto Namjoon’s arm, swaying slightly. Jimin’s halfway through singing something that might be a lullaby. No one seems to care.

You and Jungkook trail behind, still barefoot, shoes forgotten somewhere near the porch.

The path back is quieter than before, but not uncomfortable. You’re humming under your breath — something soft and aimless — and you twirl the near-empty bottle in your hand like it’s a microphone.

Jungkook walks beside you, arms swinging slightly at his sides. He doesn’t say much, but he’s not far. Not ahead. Not behind. Just there. Close enough that your elbows bump once, and you giggle, not even sure why it’s funny.

The stairs creak beneath your feet as you climb up to your bedroom. He opens the door without a word, and you step past him. He follows you in, letting the door swing shut behind him.

The room is dimly lit, and you don't even consider changing into more sleep appropriate clothes before crawling onto the bed.

You hear Jungkook moving around — the soft rustle of his hoodie hitting the chair, the creak of a drawer, the small thud of his water bottle landing on the nightstand beside you. It all feels distant, muffled by your buzzed brain.

You roll over dramatically just as he switches off the light. The room falls into shadows, and then the bed dips beside you as he climbs in.

You grin up at the ceiling.

“This was fun,” you say, voice low but still sing-songy.

Jungkook lets out a little sound in response.

The sheets are cool. The pillow smells like the detergent he always uses. You pull the blanket halfway over yourself and nudge your foot toward his under the covers without even thinking about it.

No words pass between you.

But it doesn’t feel weird. Just sleepy. Soft. Like the good kind of tired that settles behind your eyes after a long night.

You don’t notice how quiet Jungkook’s gone. Don’t notice that he hasn’t moved since lying down. You’re not paying attention to the way he’s staring up at the ceiling, or the way he hasn’t turned toward you at all.

You just let out a small sigh and mumble, “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Then, voice low and barely there, he asks, “Did you mean it?”

You’re already slipping into sleep when he says it — and maybe he’s talking about the game, or something from earlier, or maybe he’s not talking to you at all. You’re too warm, too tired to figure it out, so you just hum quietly and roll over, cheek pressed into the pillow.

He doesn’t say anything else, and the silence settles again.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the question lingers, but you don’t ask.

You’ll think about it tomorrow.

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jung-koook · 4 days ago

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jungkook’s little spin 🥹 (cr. @taee)

#jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jungkook #bts #bangtan #skygifs

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sabrinasource · 1 day ago

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SABRINA CARPENTER on the set of the 'Manchild' video (via Instagram)

#sabrina carpenter #scarpenteredit #sabrinacarpenteredit #usergoose #userholtz #usermusic #usermusicdaily #popularcultures #wonderfulwomendaily #flawlesscelebs #dailywomen #femalestunning #femaledaily #userladiesblr #ours #bts #manchild bts #2025 #edits

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94erz · 7 days ago

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#jhope #j-hope #Jung Hoseok #Hoseok #Hobi #BTS #BTSedit #BTSgif #Killin' It Girl #sabedits #NO CAPTION BECUASE IN MY HEAD IT HAS A MILLION CAPTIONS #top runner was 'big day for bi people' 'cause good lord I love women #feeling that yearning deep in my soul

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dailynnt · 2 days ago

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LOVE ME, EVEN IF I DON’T DESERVE IT

☽ ݂ ໋Summary: He didn’t believe in love. You wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. But sex became a trap. Feelings a mistake. Jungkook thought he could keep you, even when he kept disappearing whenever he wanted. You stayed, until got tired of waiting. And when you left — he finally understood what losing truly means. He wants you back. Not just your body — your heart. This is a story about passion, pain, and a second chance…

☽ ݂ ໋Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

☽ ݂ ໋Age restrictions: 18+

☽ ݂ ໋Size: one shot

☽ ݂ ໋Tags: established relationship, toxic relationship, breakup, from ex to…lover?, makeup sex, possessive jungkook, emotional smut, second chance romance, nsfw, smut, heartbreak, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, soft moments, he falls first, he falls harder, dom jungkook, passionate sex, emotional reunion

☽ ݂ ໋From author: The note to this fic was too big 🤭 So read it below after the story 👇🏻💜

☽ ݂ ໋Dedication: To every of my subscribers 💜 You are my strength, inspiration and priceless love 💜

☽ ݂ ໋Permanent tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @someoneelse0109, @kooklovee, @kookiesncreamri, @kooko009, @bhonbhon, @smokinghotstargirl, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @indigomoonchild09, @goldenboysmuse, @hisdecalcomania17, @ggingerismm, @tranquilreign, @asyr97, @mar-lo-pap, @diame93

☽ ݂ ໋Warning: This fanfic contains strong language, explicit sexual content, emotional manipulation, jealousy, toxic dynamics, and angst. Please read with caution if you’re sensitive to themes of heartbreak, regret, and complicated relationships. English is not my first language, so you may find some grammar mistakes or oddly structured sentences. Thank you for your understanding and kindness. 💜

Jungkook was not a fan of serious relationships. He saw sex as a game, as a way to release tension, as entertainment. So when he met you for the first time, you were supposed to be just another girl for the night.

It was his usual evening, with hookah smoke drifting across the tables and music playing too loud to hear his own thoughts. He was sitting with his friends, relaxed. His appearance was a magnet for girls and he knew that his tattoos and piercings were a kind of beacon. After drinking enough alcohol, he decided to find himself the one for the night. His eyes scanned the room looking for the most attractive one. He spent almost the whole hall with his eyes until he saw you.

You weren't laughing out loud, or dancing defiantly like the others. You were just sitting with your friend, holding a glass of tequila and looking out into the hall, as if you were familiar with everything here, and at the same time, as if you were above it.

He was impressed by this.

And then you met his eyes - briefly, coldly, sharply looking away. And he realized everything: you're not one whom interested in cheap tricks.

He came over ten minutes later.

"You look so bored."

You shrugged your shoulders without looking at him:

"Find yourself another victim. I'm not looking connected for a one-night stand."

Jungkook smiled. He liked complicated girls. But not for their emotional depth, no. It was the excitement. Because of the desire to prove that even those who are not "looking" will eventually end up in his bed.

And you did. He managed to get you to engage in a dialog, and at some point he was even interested in listening to you, he ordered you a few more cocktails, and you became softer. Finally, in the morning, he offered to take you home. Just to take you home, but in same time hoping to kiss you in the hoping for more. And when he got you to your house, he kissed you at the door, as if to save you from falling, and he realized that you had worked exactly according to his plan.

It was only supposed to be one time. He thought he was going to fuck you like everyone else-fast, vivid, and the next day he would forget your name.

But sex with you was different.

It was like you knew his every limit. As if you weren't afraid of its dark, wild side. On the contrary, it seemed to excite you.

After that night, he wrote to you himself. A few days later. And when you agreed to meet him, Jungkook was secretly happy. He knew he could enjoy great, wild sex with you again.

Then he came again. And then again.

You had a temper, you had character, you challenged him, and he loved it. And one day it happened. You started dating. No agreements, no serious words. He just didn't sleep with other woman anymore-at least not at first. You just became his girlfriend. By default. Even though he didn't see himself as a boyfriend.

Especially not a serious one.

He didn't promise love. And he didn't plan to. Only sex that could be obtained anytime, anywhere. You were the kind of girl who liked to experiment, wasn't boring in sex, and could make Jungkook want you all the time.

But then, as with everything that made him quickly catch fire, he lost his passion for your sex, the euphoria wore off, and he demanded something new. And he started cheating. He justified himself by saying that "it happens". That it doesn't mean anything. That he was just a man.

Jungkook started responding to your messages late. He would not show up for days. And every time you had a fight, he followed the usual scenario: he silenced you through kisses, through sex, through his ability to undress you, kiss you, break you into sweet oblivion.

Because he knew you liked having sex with him. Because it had never been like that with anyone else. Jungkook liked your body. Your wet eyes after a fight. Your supple skin. You were different from the others. But he was sure that you, like everyone else, would stay.

And you did. Until in one day something changed.

After another fight and your typical reconciliation, Jungkook agreed to go to Busan with his friends to the ‘Busan Rock Festiva’, which he attended every year. Why didn't he invite you to go along, because it wouldn't have been a vacation for him then. If you were there, he would have to restrain himself, and that's not a place where you need to restrain yourself.

So when he was already there, having a good time with his friends, when the new girls joined them, he got the first call from you that day.

Jungkook didn't answer the first one. When you called him again a few minutes later, he decided to answer you, saying that he there only for a day. Jungkook assumed that you would be angry, but he knew how to calm you down when he returned from Busan.

So Jungkook stepped away from his company and pressed the green button.

"Hey, my babygirl," he said, his voice soft.

"Hey," you said into the phone. Jungkook smiled lightly.

"What's wrong? Are you tired?" he asked, sensing the fatigue in your voice. You exhaled heavily into the phone.

"The day at work sucks," you said. "That's why I desperately need my boyfriend," your voice standing more playfully, but not without a trace of fatigue.

Jungkook is about to say that he's not in Seoul, but he doesn't hear Taehyung appear behind him and unceremoniously shout in his ear.

"Jungkook-ah! Come back to us. There are more girls to come. Why are you stuck here?"

Jungkook knocked Taehyung's arm away with the one he had managed to hug he and quietly showed him that he was talking to you with an angry face. Taehyung put his hand over his mouth and cursed silently.

"I'll be right over," Jungkook said and pushed Taehyung in the back. He apologized quietly, but Jungkook waved his hand and moved on. You were silent into the phone the whole time. "Babygirl, I would love to come to you. But I left for Busan this morning. Didn't I tell you?" the lie came out of Jungkook's mouth as easily as ever.

"No," you answered shortly and calmly. "You didn't tell me you were going to Busan."

Jungkook exhaled theatrically into the phone.

"Didn't I tell you? I told you yesterday when we were together that today is the ‘Busan Rock Festiva’, which my friends and I go to every year," Jungkook convinced you.

"We didn't being together yesterday," you said, still calmly, "We last seen on Monday, and today is Friday."

Jungkook didn't even panic. He knew that if you started to get angry now, he would accept it, and when he returned to Seoul, you would immediately make up.

"Really? Oh fuck, I was so wrapped up in this damn job that a week seemed like one day. Then I told it you on Monday."

"No, and you didn't mention it even on Monday," you insist. Jungkook notices that you are not angry. Your tone is even and calm. Perhaps because you are tired, you don't have the energy to be angry with him? Or have you finally accepted his constant pranks and disappearances?

"Oh sorry doll, I was planning to tell you, and seems to I forgot. It's only for a day, I'll be back tomorrow night. Damn it, we haven't seen each other for a week, I missed you like hell. As soon as I get back to Seoul tomorrow, I'll come see you first," Jungkook said, lowering his voice and moving further away from his group of friends. There was loud music and shouting from the festival participants around him, so he walked to a place where the sounds would be less loud.

"Okay. I'll be waiting for you," you said in the same tone, "Have a fun, Kook," you wished.

"Thank you, babygirl. See you tomorrow?" he asked, and he already caught himself thinking that he didn't like the fact that you didn't react to the fact that he went to Busan. You didn't even ask about the girls Taehyung mentioned.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you replied, and you were the first to hang up.

Jungkook stood there looking at his iPhone screen until it went off. He was really impressed by your reaction. Normally, you would have been interrogating, angry. But your calm reaction was not typical, and for some reason, it touched him. Jungkook put his phone in his pocket and returned to his friends thinking about you and your conversation.

Taehyung apologized to Jungkook that he was going to get in trouble with a girl because of him, but Jungkook brushed it off and continued drinking. The girls in the company were pretty, but for some reason none of them made Jungkook feel like having someone tonight.

One pretty blonde, even knowing that Jungkook had a girlfriend, did not hesitate to flirt with him with obvious hints of sex. She spent the rest of the evening and night hanging around Jungkook, but he didn't respond. He didn't want to have sex. But the girl did not lose hope, and when she asked Jungkook to take her to her camping tent because she could barely stand, she offered to give him a blowjob on the way. He refused even that, even though at any other time he would have shoved his cock deep down this whore's throat.

The next day, Jungkook returned to Seoul late at night. It was eleven o'clock in the evening, and he drove up to your house and texted you that he was there. You repeatedly made many times Jungkook to memorize the password to your house, but he wouldn't even try. He didn't want to bother with the password to your house. Usually when he was here, it was enough that you were with he and you would enter the password yourself.

The answer from you came almost immediately, as if you were waiting. You wrote that you were in the park near your house, sitting by the fountain, waiting for him. Jungkook raised his eyebrows wondering why you were in the park so late instead of at home. He didn't wear his helmet, because the park was close, so he started the bike and rode off.

While he was riding to you, he caught himself thinking that he really missed you. Especially your body and your hospitable pussy. The thought of fucking you tonight made his cock in jeans hard.

He got there in less than five minutes. Jungkook parked his bike in the parking lot near the park entrance and walked to the fountain.

It was almost deserted. You sat on a bench by the fountain, cross-legged and wrapped in a light cardigan. The lanterns cast a soft light on your face. You noticed him and he smiled at you. But in return, he saw coldness in your eyes. Not resentment - no. That would have been easier. Not anger, because he knew how to calm it down. It was the coldness of distance.

He approached to you slowly, confidently, as if he didn't feel anxious. But something inside him was shrinking. He stopped a few steps away, looked at you, and tilted his head slightly to the side:

"My babygirl looks like she didn't miss me," he said with a soft smile, but you didn't smile back. "Hey..." Jungkook sat down next to you, very close, "But I missed you," his voice lowered and his hand dropped to your knee. He put his other arm around you, pulling you closer. Jungkook touched his nose to your jaw and ran it all the way up to your ear, inhaling your scent. He really missed you, even your scent, which had always seemed ordinary to him. Pleasant, but not as evocative as it was now.

"I really missed you," he whispered in your ear. Then Jungkook grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned you to kiss you. You immediately, by inertia, let his tongue into your mouth, touching it timidly with your own.

Jungkook deepened the kiss, feeling a wave of excitement. He didn't understand how, but you rekindled the passion and desire he had at the beginning of your relationship. And just as he was about to pick you up by the waist and carry you to his lap, you gently but firmly pulled away.

"No," you said without raising your voice. You simply stopped his touch, as if it were not Jungkook but someone else. His eyes narrowed. He licked his lips, as if trying to collect himself.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked quietly.

"We're in the park," you said just as quietly, turning away. Jungkook leaned down to your ear.

"We haven't had sex in this park yet. I wouldn't mind fucking you right here," he whispered. You were frozen, unresponsive. Jungkook kissed your earlobe, and when he realized that you weren't responding to his actions at all, he concluded that you were upset about his trip. "Hey," he called out, "What's wrong? Are you mad at me for going to Busan without you?" Jungkook asked bluntly. You looked in front of you, and then looked down at your lap, at his hand, which was at a dangerous distance from your fly.

"I want to break up," you said firmly. Jungkook felt a twinge inside, but he didn't show it in any way. He pulled away slightly and looked at your face.

"What did you say?" he asked again, unsure. You turned your head to him and looked him in the eye and said clearly and distinctly.

"I want to end our relationship. Let's break up," you said, barely keeping your voice steady. Jungkook held you for a few more seconds and then let go.

"Why?" he asked. He was curious to know the reason. Because your relationship had been going on for six months, the longest Jungkook had ever been in, and you had put up with everything until now. Jungkook thought you didn't mind the relationship like this, and he didn't promise to marry you, but you had great sex and it seemed like that should be enough. Right?

"What's the point, Kook?" you asked instead of answering him right away.

"What do you mean, what's the point?" Jungkook didn't understand, raising his eyebrows. You laughed hysterically but quietly.

"You only come to me when you want to fuck. And I'm not sure it was ever anything special to you. So I'm letting you go, that you were free to do it all you wanted and not hide."

Jungkook exhaled an exasperated breath. You've fought many times, you've asked him to leave, you've suspected him of cheating, but you've never asked him to end the relationship. Something unpleasant stirred inside him. You're asking for an end to the relationship, and it's a good opportunity to finally get rid of your boyfriend's responsibilities.

But why doesn't he want to? Is he used to you being around all the time? That he can come to you at any time and you always accept him? Or is he angry that you asked for a divorce first? He was always the one who left girls first, not the other way around.

Jungkook was silent. His jaw was tense, and there was something dangerous in his eyes-not anger, but that deep, aching annoyance that comes through when you don't expect to be defeated. He stared at you for several long seconds, as if trying to read if that was really all. But you didn't look away.

"Do you really want this?" he asked slowly. His voice was low, dull, and he was trying to hold back his emotions and his pride that you had managed to hurt.

"Yes," you answered simply. Not in a trembling voice, not through tears. And that was worse. It was convincing. Jungkook smiled, and he reached out to hug you. He convinced himself that you were just mad at him as usual.

"Come on, babygirl, you love me. How can we part?" he says confidently, and he wants to kiss you so that you succumb to his charms, but you turn your head away and Jungkook barely manages to avoid kissing the back of your head. He freezes and then pulls away. Jungkook waits silently for you to turn around. You slowly turn your head straight and don't look at him.

"Yes. I loved you. But does that bother you? You've never cared about my feelings!"

It was true. Your feelings didn't mean anything to him. But now he felt his chest tighten. Why? You're just a girl. For whom he can easily find a replacement. But will those girls be like you?

"I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of you." you said honestly.

Jungkook felt as if something sharp was slowly scratching him from the inside. His gaze dropped down to your fingers curled into a fist in his lap, and suddenly he thought he was seeing you for the first time. Without the pink haze of sexual fantasies. Without a convenient role. Just a living, tired girl who loved him and was tired of waiting for a response. But it made him angry. Angry that you take everything so radically now, but not the way you used to.

"What are you tired of?!" he asked, somewhat irritated. You continued to ignore him with your eyes.

"Of your silence, your betrayals, your apologies with your body. I'm not sure if that sex ever brought me anything other than the feeling that you only wanted me when I was naked." A silence fell between you and it was painful for both of you. You were the first to break it. "Pretend like I never existed," you asked, "You're a master at this. You've been doing it our whole relationship."

Jungkook let go of you. He exhaled heavily and ran his hand through his hair. He turned to you and saw that you were sitting there with an indifferent expression.

He slowly stood up from the bench, something inexplicable still pulsating in his chest - it was not anger, not resentment. It was that rare feeling that comes only when you lose something... that you've had for a long time.

He looked down at you for a few seconds, as if trying to find a gap, a crack, a chance to bring you back. But there was none. You sat with your back straight and your fingers slightly trembling, but your eyes were no longer thirsty for him. And in that certainty was your strength.

"Okay," he said dryly, and the word seemed to crunch in the air. He gave you one last glance, trying to look as indifferent as you were, but you didn't even look at him to appreciate it.

Jungkook turned around and walked toward his bike. His figure disappeared among the night lights, and you remained seated, trying not to let the tears break through.

When he was almost out of sight, something stopped him. He looked over his shoulder. You didn't look back at him. And it was this indifference - not fake, not tortured, but real - that made him take a confused breath.

"I didn't cheat on you, this time," he threw into the darkness. "I didn't even touch her."

You couldn't hear him. And those words were empty, because Jungkook had done this many times before, without noticing how each time he left deep cuts in your soul.

He got on his bike without starting the engine, just looking at the empty park. And again he caught himself thinking: why the hell does it hurt?

It was the first night he came back from his trip, when he didn't stay in your bed.

Jungkook did not go home that night. He didn't want to see the walls of his apartment or the mirror where he could look himself in the eye. He drove around the city without a goal. He smoked one cigarette after another. He stopped on a bridge and looked at the black water of the river, which reflected the streetlights.

It was only then that his phone screen lit up with a message from another girl who wrote: "Are you coming to see me tonight?" he realized for the first time that he didn't want to. No. He didn't want to see any of them at all.

A few weeks have passed. No news or messages from you. For some reason, Jungkook was hoping you'd write. That you had made an impulsive decision and would still come back.

When a week passed without you, he was still holding on. He was trying to get back to his normal life, but everything irritated him. He wanted to know another girl to get over you, but none of them evoked any emotion in him. When he talked to some girl, he compared her to you: what would you say? And how did you behave? She didn't have the same hair, didn't have the same intoxicating scent, didn't have the same laugh. There was nothing in any of them that caught his eye.

Jungkook started drinking more, staying out in clubs until the wee hours of the morning just to avoid coming home sober and remembering how he fucked you in his bed, on the kitchen table, in the bathtub. Everything in his apartment reminded him of you. And when he found your things one day, he was completely torn. He shoved his pride up his ass and realized that he feels something for you. And he desperately needs you. Not your body. But your whole self.

He opened his phone and found your number. You signed yourself in his phone as "My babygirl". He typed a message, a simple one: "Hi. Let's meet?" and sent it. But the message was not delivered. He tried a few more times and realized you had blocked him.

Jungkook laughed. Did you really do that? He dialed your number, but the call kept dropping. It made him completely angry. With all this tension and anger, he threw the phone at the wall without controlling his emotions, smashing it to pieces.

Another week passed and Jungkook tried not to think about you again. He immersed himself in work, went on business trips for a few days, and whatever he did, you were always on his mind. And it was starting to drive him crazy.

When he returned to Seoul after a business trip, he went into his apartment and got tired. He went to the shower and stood under the stream of water. His thoughts were chaotic, and his chest felt like it was tearing him apart. Jungkook laughed hysterically. He touched with his hand the wall of the shower stall, his head down. The water hit his back, and he continued to laugh hysterically.

"Fuck..." he gasped out loud. "I'm an asshole," he called himself. "Did I really fucking fall in love with her?"

Jungkook couldn't believe it, but his state and his desire to see you, to at least touch your hand, spoke louder than he did.

Jungkook got out of the shower. He quickly dressed in a black T-shirt, similar black cargo pants, and threw on a jacket. He walked into the garage, passing his car, and got on his bike. Jungkook pulled on his helmet and rode purposefully to your house.

He turned off the engine and walked to the fence. Jungkook was tall and could easily see over it. You lived on a quiet street in a rented house. Jungkook found your bedroom windows without fail. The lights were off. Your whole house was in darkness. You must have been asleep because it was almost midnight.

Jungkook rang the bell several times, but you never showed up at the door. He cursed and went to his bike, which was parked in the shade of a streetlight. He sat down and smoked a cigarette out of nerves.

Jungkook had managed to take a few pulls when a car parked a few houses away. Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed, straining his eyesight. And when he noticed you in the front seat, something broke inside. You were smiling and saying something to the man behind the wheel. Your conversation didn't last long. After a few minutes, you got out of the car and waved goodbye to your friend, or maybe your new boyfriend.

Rage and jealousy clenched his throat as the car disappeared before his eyes, and you waited for it to drive away, headed for your house. You were so beautiful, so calm - Jungkook felt horror. Because someone else had already been in your life.

You had no sooner touched the combination lock than you heard a voice from the outside.

"You found a replacement for me quickly."

You froze when you heard Jungkook's voice. You turned your head and saw him sitting on his bike. He finished his cigarette and threw it on the asphalt, crushing it with his sneaker.

Jungkook smiled and slowly stepped out of the shadows, approaching you. He stopped a step away from you and couldn't help but think that you seemed to have become even more beautiful. Jungkook looked at you without shying. You were dressed in a white blouse, a long skirt with a small slit at the hip and a jacket because it was cool outside. You were wearing high-heeled shoes, which made you a little taller than he was used to looking at you.

"What are you doing here?" you said coldly, not commenting on his previous words.

Jungkook smiled his usual seductive, cocky smile. But inside him was a real hurricane.

"I've come to see you," he said as if it were a completely normal thing. Your eyes darkened. You gave him every indication that you weren't happy to see him, but Jungkook knew you weren't. He could see how nervous you were and how your breathing was quickening.

"I'm not asking why you're here. I'm asking what are you doing here?" you spoke sharply and Jungkook felt his patience to stay away from you and not kiss you was getting shorter.

"Was that your new boyfriend?" Jungkook ignores your question. You click your tongue, but answer the question.

"I'm not that one who’s successful at finding someone to fuck right after a breakup. Or even during a relationship," you pause and then continue, "This is my coworker. We're working on a project together," and you quickly trailed off, obviously catching justifying yourself to Jungkook. And he liked your answer and your justifying.

Jungkook smiled even wider. He took half a step closer to you, forcing you to take the same half step back. Now there was only half an arm's length distance between you. Your back was almost against the fence door, but you tried to keep your composure. Unlike Jungkook, who had already lost his patience with being away from you.

"Did you miss me?" his voice was velvety and low.

"What do you want?" you asked coldly, but not so confidently. And Jungkook heard it. He caught the way your lower lip trembled, the way your hands clung to your jacket to keep it from shaking.

"I don't know if I want anything... except you," he admitted honestly. His eyes, normally dark and deep, as if pulling you in, were now burning. Your eyes darted between his, and he bet you were struck by these words, but you suddenly laughed. Mockingly, quietly.

"And when did you understand that? After another girl? Or when I blocked you everywhere?"

"When I imagined you with someone else. And I couldn't stand it," he didn't look away. You huffed and turned away.

"That sounds nice. But it seems too late for such words. It's over between us," you said without any emotion in your voice.

Jungkook's face did not flinch, but something changed in it. In his eyes. In the chewing of his jaw. For a split second, Jungkook felt like he was breaking down-but he immediately pulled himself together again.

"It can't be too late," he argued. "You love me. Your feelings couldn't have disappeared in two weeks." Jungkook moved a little closer.

You angrily turned your head toward him, not realizing that he was closer than you wanted him to be.

"Shut up," you said threateningly. "Don't you dare say I love you. You don't deserve these feelings!" Jungkook pushed you against the door, and only now you realized how close he was. "Let me go, get out," you protested. Jungkook put one hand on the door and held you close with the other. He breathed in your scent, the same scent he missed so much, the same scent that intoxicated him.

"I don't want to leave. And I don't want you to hate me. I want you to love me, even if I don't deserve it," he said against your lips. You froze, looking at his lips. You were breathing fast and hard, and these sounds excited Jungkook. He leaned down and kissed you. He couldn't hold back any longer.

Your mouth was warm and sweet, and your hand clutched the fabric on his chest. He kissed you greedily, emotionally, without any self-control - as if these two weeks without you were an eternity for him. As if every second without you caused physical pain.

"I was an asshole," he whispered through the kiss. "But... please, let's try again. Start from the beginning."

You trembled in his arms. Your heart was beating so hard that it seemed like it was about to jump out of your chest.

"I'm afraid..." you confessed quietly. "I'm afraid you're going to hurt me again..."

"I won't," Jungkook interrupted you, cupping your face in his hands. "And if I do anything to hurt you again, I'll disappear. I'll be gone forever. Just... give me a chance. Just one. I'll make it right."

You looked away, full of tears, but Jungkook touched your lips again. His kiss was gentle, almost pleading, as if it contained his entire vow. And you gave in. When your lips parted, you whispered:

"Jungkook... make it right."

That was enough. He dug into your lips again, with more hunger. You entered the house. As soon as the door closed behind you, Jungkook pounced on you without another word. His hands were everywhere: he pulled off your jacket, unbuttoned your blouse, whispered in your ear that he missed you, not giving you a second to think.

His kisses were bold, deep, and with every second, all the pain and longing that had accumulated over the weeks came out of him. He undressed you right in the hallway, as if he couldn't wait any longer... Because he really couldn't.

When your skirt fell to the floor, you were left in nothing but your underwear. He pushed you against the wall, kissing you without stopping. Jungkook pulled away from your lips for a moment to look at you. He looked at your body with greed. His hands reflexively reached for your breasts, and without taking off your bra, he pulled one of them out and smiled. He couldn't help but rejoice in the moment that you his again.

Jungkook looked up at you, and he kept looking at you with a winning smile as he reached for your nipple.

When his wet tongue touched your aroused nipple, he was ready to moan. He adored the taste of your skin. Jungkook played around, licking your nipple, making your heavy breathing turn into moans. Your other nipple got plenty of attention, too. And when Jungkook wanted to kiss you again, his hand went down between your legs at the same time.

He easily slipped his palm under the fabric of your lace thong and touched the sensitive center, pushing apart your folds. You gasped and closed your lips as he pressed on your clit. Jungkook ran his finger up and down it, with gentle, blissful movements. A few more strokes and his finger plunged into your passage, feeling the tightness and wetness he had missed like crazy.

Jungkook froze for a second, two. He could feel your flesh clenching around his finger, and this contact made him lose the last vestiges of self-control.

His gaze slid down your face, stopped at your half-open lips, from which a soft moan escaped-sweet, intoxicating, just as he remembered. His heart was beating wildly.

"You don't know how much I missed this... you," he whispered, slowly removing his finger and gently running it along your thigh, leaving a wet trail. "Every night I imagined touching you again. In my dreams. In the shower. During meetings. Even when I was working."

His fingers dove under your panties again, this time along with his kisses. And when he'd had enough of your plump lips, Jungkook knelt down, never taking his eyes off you. He slowly pulled off your underwear, letting it fall to your ankles. He took off your shoes and kicked them to the side.

"Do you know what was killing me?" he looked up, holding his breath. "That I didn't know if I'd ever be able to kneel before you like this again."

You held your breath at his words. Those words affected you, and Jungkook could see it. And he was really afraid that you would never let him touch you again.

His tongue touched your most tender part - gently at first, stretching out the moment, as if enjoying every second of it. Then harder, wider, more rhythmic. You screamed and leaned back against the wall, clutching his hair as if you were holding on to your last bit of sanity.

Jungkook worked his tongue with such precision, as if it were his only meaning in life. His fingers penetrated you again-synchronized with the movements of his tongue-slowly, deeply, each thrust like a confession.

"You're mine." His voice was muffled but confident. "And you can't leave me anymore."

Your body shook. Your hair fell over your shoulders. Your chest rose in an accelerated rhythm. And as the orgasm grew, as your every cell screamed for pleasure, Jungkook stopped. Just for a moment. To look at you. To feel it with you - with all the depth. You were breathing heavily, looking up at him.

"I want to be inside you," he said, standing up, kissing you on the lips, leaving a trace of your own taste on them. "Now."

And you couldn't say no. Because your whole body was screaming yes.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, your fingers shaking, and when his cock came free-hot, hard, full-you ran your palm over it. He closed his eyes and moaned your name.

"Y/N... fuck... I want you," he leaned his hand on the wall, enjoying your movements. "Mine," he moaned in your hair somewhere near your ear, "Only fucking mine."

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you over to the couch, which was the closest comfortable place to fuck you.

Jungkook laid you down. He quickly freed himself from all the clothes he was wearing and approaching you without taking his eyes off you, he spread your legs. He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance and entered you with one deep, slightly sharp, impatient thrust, and the moment seemed timeless. You both froze.

Your nails dug into his strong shoulders, and your breaths intertwined in the darkness.

"God..." he whispered. "You were always meant for me."

He thrust his hips, feeling the instant pleasure of the tightness of your pussy.

Jungkook started moving slowly, pulling each thrust with sweet pleasure, as if he wanted this moment to last forever. His gaze never left your face - you looked as if you had just returned home after a long, painful journey. Your eyes sparkled, your lips were slightly open, and with each new penetration you dug your fingers deeper into his back.

"You're so... tight," he whispered, squeezing your hips. "For me, it's all for me, baby..."

His movements became deeper. Sharper. And everything in him was screaming - not just about desire, but about the need to restore the connection that seemed to have been lost.

You responded to his every thrust. Your hips arched to meet him, your neck opened for his kisses. He kissed it greedily, leaving wet marks and light bites. You felt your body tremble again - this orgasm was coming like a storm, and Jungkook knew it. He felt your every shudder, your every breath.

"Tell me..." he mumbled, not stopping, "Do you still love me?" he wanted to hear it. He needed to know that you hadn't lost those feelings. Your behavior and the fact that you had forgiven him so quickly had already answered that question, but he wanted... he wanted to hear it again.

"I love you," you breathe out. "I love you, Kook." you said, no doubt in your voice. Jungkook was happy. He wanted to confess too. But he didn't know if he really did. He didn't know if he knew the feeling the way you knew it. He stopped and came closer to your face. Inches separated your lips.

"I think I do, too," he said in a trembling voice. "I love you too."

Your eyes instantly filled with tears and they flowed down your face. It was the first time in six months of relationship that Jungkook told you that he loved you. And he only realized that he loved you when you left. He realized that only your warmth was the one he always wanted to return to and stay in forever.

He made a deep thrust with his hips that made you scream. He continued to move sharply, bringing you deeply to the edge.

"I'm sorry," he said as he fucked you, "I'm sorry baby. I've been an asshole. I've caused you so much pain. I'll make it all right… I'll make it right," he promised again. He spoke as sincerely as he could. He wanted you to believe him. That these were not empty words, but a promise he was going to keep.

Jungkook changed his angle - he lifted your legs higher, placing them on his shoulders, and he thrust deeper, right to the point that made you moan with a force he hadn't heard before. You bit your lip, but he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't be silent, I want to hear you," he wheezed. His voice sounded like thunder, low and raspy. "I want to hear you cum for me."

And you couldn't hold back. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched in orgasm, losing control. He caught your every breath as he continued to move, taking you through wave after wave.

But Jungkook didn't want to stop. Not yet. He hadn't had enough. His cock was still hard, aroused to the point of excitement. He flipped you over onto your stomach, gently but firmly. And before you knew it, he was entering you from behind again. His hands gripped your hips and then slid down to your breasts, squeezing them tightly in time with his thrusts.

"Fuck... it feels so good inside you, my love. I could live here forever," he growled behind you. You moaned as you felt his big cock from a new angle. It felt like he was penetrating you deeper than before.

You could feel your body coming to the limit again, even though you had just felt the discharge. His moans merged with yours. His pace increased. Jungkook wanted to mark you. To prove that he had a right to you, as he always had. He stopped, halfway out, and leaned down to whisper in your ear:

"I'm going to come inside you."

You didn't object. You couldn't. You didn't have the strength. Only the desire. And Jungkook was glad you didn't object. And when he entered you again, quickly and ruthlessly, you felt his hands tremble and his body tense. You came first. Jungkook felt it well. Your loud and long moan and the walls as if they wanted to strangle him.

"Y/N... I..." he groaned, and with one last deep thrust, he spilled inside you, leaving you both completely exhausted.

He didn't pull back immediately after that. He stayed inside you, trembling, breathing into your neck. His body was still covered in a light sweat, and his heart was pounding in unison with yours.

After a few minutes, when his breathing became calm, he came out of you. Jungkook didn't let you get up, he lay down next to you, hugging you. The couch was narrow, and in order for both of you to fit on it, you had to almost lie down on top of Jungkook. He put his arm around you, and you laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your leg touched his thigh without touching his crotch. You both lay there naked and exhausted, and incredibly content.

His hand gently slid down your back, as if trying to calm the residual tremors. He didn't say anything, just breathed with you, as if he was afraid to disturb this fragile harmony. Jungkook leaned down and kissed you on the forehead, gently, not at all like he had just made love to you. His lips lingered, and you felt him sigh, heavily, like a man who had just let go of something very heavy.

"I've never had anything like this," he whispered. "I didn't even think I could feel this."

You looked up at him, and he looked back.

"I was really afraid I'd lost you," he said quietly. He had never spoken so sincerely before. He had always given the impression of strength, dominance, control-but now he was just a guy who had just allowed himself to be loved for the first time.

"I'm not leaving anymore," you whispered, touching his cheek. "Not unless you destroy everything we have."

He hugged you tighter.

"I won't do it again," Jungkook said firmly. "I promise. Even if I have to change everything in the whole damn world."

Silence fell over the room again. Only your breaths and the warmth of your bodies remained. His hand rested on your stomach. An unconscious gesture. But you noticed it. And your heart sank.

"What?" he asked when you tensed a little.

"Nothing," you smiled, closing your eyes. "It's just... if we can keep this together, nothing else will matter."

Jungkook kissed you again. Gently, softly, like a seal, he sealed the promise. A new beginning awaited you, and you both hoped for a happy ending.

📝 Author's note:

Hello my dear Army. It's been a while since I posted my work here. I wrote to you that I am going through a difficult time in my life. And it's really hard for me mentally (especially mentally) and physically. I don't want to deepen you into my problems, the only thing I will say is that I will feel better very soon because I will visit a psychologist who will help me unwind the tangle of thoughts and nerves that I have wrapped up 🧶🤭

I promised all of you the story to the thousand followers on my blog. I even announced the cover with the title "Control Me". But as you can see, this is not the story I promised you 🥺

I'll try to explain it briefly. I wanted to write "Control Me" for you, but I didn't like it the whole time I was writing it. I gave it read to my sister Marichka, who is also a good writer, I consider her the best writer for me, and she evaluated it objectively. And she told me that such a story has a strong plot and it cannot be contained even in 15 thousand words for one story. She advised me to focus on "One Night..." and "No Mercy" and to write "Control Me" after these two stories.

Why wrote this fanfic like a series, because for CM I came up with a plot where Y/N will be a psychologist who specializes in sexual disorders. Jungkook will seek her help because he suffers from a phobia of emotional and physical intimacy. That is, in short, it will not get aroused from women (although physiologically everything will be fine). That's why it can't be summed up in one story. Because the process of his treatment is going to be long. That's why the story has to be unfolded. By the way, let me know if you like this idea? And should I write it?

And as for story which I wrote for you now 💗 It appeared in my head literally in a moment when I was listening to The Rose's song "Back to me" ❤️‍🔥 This story is about a love that was originally a default. It's about a guy who thought she would always be waiting for him and a girl who finally learned to let go, even though her heart screams otherwise.

It's about the gloomy, unattainable Jungkook, who didn't know what love was until he was left without it. It's about a deep sexual chemistry that becomes a language they use to tell each other: I'm still here, I still want you, I still love you. And at the same time, it's a story about correcting mistakes when it seems too late. And you know, even if this story is very "bookish", I believe that there are boys who have a many women, and when they meet the one they are ready to change for her 🥰 I am such a hopeless romantic and dreamer 🤭 But no one forbids it 💗

I will add at the end that I still feel bad and I don't know if I will have the inspiration and time to update "One Night..." and "No Mercy" in the near future, but I will try to do my best 🙏🏻 I really ask for your patience 💜 It is important for me that you stay with me 😣😭

Dear Army, thank you again for the thousand subscribers, thank you for your love and attention to me. I bow to you for every kind word you say, it is important and valuable to me 🤭❤️‍🔥 So let's be together forever 💜 Borahe each of you 🙏🏻💘

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