I Opened The Same Drabble Request Game A Few Days Ago But No One Requested Me What I Wanted To Write

I opened the same drabble request game a few days ago but no one requested me what I wanted to write the most... so.....

please write a All of the Girls You Loved Before + Jin 😭😭😭😭

Ilysm 💜

all of the girls you loved before | ksj

✰ pairing: seokjin x f!reader (married au) ✰ warnings: fluff; husband! and dad!jin; discussions of and reflections on past relationships and breakups, including teenage romance and long-distance; alcohol; some mild but loving teasing of their children ✰ word count: 2.8k (oops) ✰ notes: thank you for the request, sweet nika! writing inspired by ‘love in the big city’ by sang young park, one of my favorite novels of all time; story inspired by ‘the last’ by wong fu productions (LMAO throwback). not quite sure how i feel about this type of story (where the women in his past exist solely as one-dimensional character development tools lmao) but i think it turned out okay in the end. also, you may all blame @daechwitatamic for the dad!jin brainrot. thanks

✰ listened to: all of the girls you loved before - taylor swift

—

“Seokjin.” You cross your arms in the doorway. “Honey, the movers are going to be here in an hour—“

He jumps. Glances over his shoulder, looking caught. "I know, I know, I'm just finishing up here.”

"What are you even looking at?" You venture into the room, surveying the scene in front of you. Seokjin's sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of your bedroom, right where the foot of the bed used to be. Instead of packing away the last of his clothing as instructed, though, he has a shoebox open in front of him.

Around it, spilling out of it, spread all over the floor—letters. Notes on pink, yellow, blue stationery, some folded into hearts, some spread open, crowded with bubbly handwriting and doodled hearts. Photos, film prints to Polaroids to strips from the old-school purikura booths that you'd frequent in high school. Little trinkets and souvenirs, too, like Lotte World tickets, keychains, and receipts. He keeps a wary eye on you as you approach.

"What... oh, my god, is that—"

"Me and Nabi," he says. He rests a hand on the old photo, faded a bit with age. In it, an adorable, seventeen-year-old Seokjin is smiling in front of a bowling alley, his arm around a girl you'd both gone to hagwon with back in high school.

"I took this photo," you say, folding yourself down next to him. "I remember this. I didn't know you've been keeping all of these...."

You take a closer look at everything spread out in front of him. They're all mementos of Seokjin's past relationships, you realize. Letters from girls named Dahye, Eunkyo, Chaewon. Photos under cherry blossoms, in lecture halls, in pubs. A pencil sketch of Seokjin's profile, in blurred strokes. All of them kept in a nondescript shoebox, one that had been gathering dust on the highest shelf in your shared wardrobe for years but that you'd never really bothered to investigate.

You realize Seokjin's watching you carefully—gauging your reaction, it seems, the tips of his ears turning red. "What?" you ask, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. "Were you worried I'd be upset?"

"Not worried, exactly," Seokjin says. He absently rests a hand on your thigh, letting his thumb trace little circles on the exposed skin there. "But... yeah, maybe not the reaction I was expecting?"

You understand what he means—anyone would be concerned about their spouse coming across a box full of keepsakes from their past relationships. But you know Seokjin. Know that he's sentimental even though he comes off as flippant; know that he likes to hold onto pieces of things even when he's left them in the past. 

Know that the union you and Seokjin have is something to which he dedicates himself on a daily basis, and that he's never once given you reason to doubt his commitment to you.

You glance at your phone. "Well... we have some time." You pull a handful of the photos toward you, loop an arm through your husband’s, and rest your cheek on his shoulder. “Want to tell me about these girls?"

—

The first girl I loved was Nabi.

You know Nabi. We all went to the same hagwon together, and you'd always sit in the front row because you were a huge nerd—yah!—but Nabi and I.... Well, we were a bit less devoted to our studies, let's say. And you know how some of us would go out, get dinner after class? Nabi always tagged along whenever she knew I was going. I suppose I've always been irresistible—yah, why are you laughing?!

Teenage love.... I know you didn't have your first real relationship until college, and maybe what I had with Nabi wasn’t quite real, either. But I really did love her. Or maybe I was just in love with the feeling of being loved. I know it's hard to believe, seeing how dashing I look here, but I really didn't think much of myself back then. I suppose a lot of teenagers don't—it's a horrible time, with all the stress of the CSATs and college admissions and growing into our own skin. But it did feel nice to be admired. To know that someone liked me for me, and not for what I did or didn't accomplish.

Teenage love is so uncomplicated, isn't it? All you have to do is hold hands, daydream, buy each other little trinkets and delude yourselves into romance. Nabi was sweet. And all we did was meet at the playground and pass notes in class—and take photos at the bowling alley, I guess—but she meant a lot to me at that time.

You know how it goes, though. Girls are fickle—yah, why do you keep hitting me!—and someone else eventually caught her eye. We only dated a few months, but I was ridiculously devastated. I got over it soon enough, and it was good that we ended things, because we were just two foolish kids playing at a relationship.

But she was special to me, at one point in my life. She was the first person to show me what that kind of love felt like.

—

The second girl I loved was Chaewon.

Whatever we had was brief, just a month or two in the winter before we enrolled in university. She was my mom's friend's daughter, lived two floors up from us, so naturally we had to keep things secret.

I was still too shy to do much of anything with her. But I remember this one night—the first snowfall, and she insisted that we go watch it together. Something about the person you watch the first snowfall with being the love of your life, right? So we held hands and took the night bus to this lookout point, but the snow didn't end up falling that night. I laughed, but she was really upset about it—yah, stop hitting me, I was just a kid!

My mother eventually caught us outside the building and gave me an earful. Lectured me for hours, then forced me to break up. I don’t remember much about it, but the one thing she told me that really stuck was that I wasn't good enough for someone like Chaewon.

I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry about me—I think she was right, in some ways. I acted like a kid, still. Immature for my age, not great at school. But Chaewon was more mature than I was, much smarter, and came from a better family to boot. I wasn't much compared to her, at least on paper. 

The words hurt at the time, but I knew she was wrong. It didn't matter to me or to Chaewon who our families were or how much money we had or who did better at school. We liked each other—loved each other, even, in the way we thought of love back then—and that was enough. Love is so difficult when you introduce too many factors. Can’t it just be enough to love? Why do we make it so hard for ourselves?

That love came at an important point in my life: at the cusp of adulthood. I wasn’t a child anymore, but I wasn’t quite grown yet—I’d disabused myself of childlike notions of soulmates and romance, but I still held on to a bit of hope. Or maybe I should call it naïveté, because I simply didn’t know that love took work. That it's not so easy to love someone else in this world.

Anyway, my mother’s words motivated me to do better once I reached university. To become someone that she could be proud of, someday.

—

The third girl I loved was Dahye.

You know Dahye—we met her at the last reunion. I met her for the first time at our freshman orientation. A group of us went out for drinks at the start of the term, and there she was. You know how shy I can be around new people, right? Well, I was being Classic Seokjin that night. Red ears, red face, couldn’t stomach a thing because I was so nervous. And here was this pretty girl sitting across from me, pouring me drinks with two hands even though we were the same age. I walked her home afterward even though I was plastered, and apparently I kissed her in front of the bus station—yah, don’t worry, it was consensual!

I was learning what it meant to be a real man at that age, living out of home on my own. I learned how to do my own laundry, find my own way around the city, make my own doctor’s appointments. You see this extremely good-looking, capable man sitting in front of you now, and you must wonder how he was ever incompetent—okay, fine, I’ll be serious—but it’s really thanks to her. I felt the need to show her that I was grown up. Responsible. I learned that I should offer to walk girls home at night. That I should pay the bill at dinner. That I should text her good morning. Little things like that, things that no one seems to teach you but everyone knows anyway. I couldn’t be a clueless, insolent kid forever.

We dated for quite a while. A couple of years, give or take. I’m sure we both were at fault for the breakup, but the gist of it is that I felt she was too controlling, and she felt I wasn’t doing enough for her. That’s fair, because I was working a ton back then. Interning, part-time jobs, studying. I focused so much on making myself a person worthy of admiration that I forgot who I was doing it all for. But at times, it seemed like she wanted an entirely different person and didn’t love me for who I actually was. We’d have terrible arguments over the phone, and I’d wake up next to her in the morning but still feel alone.

I was the one to finally end things. She taught me a lot, but in the end, I had to teach myself to be brave enough to say goodbye. I’d grown comfortable with her presence, and I can imagine a life in which we carried on like that forever, not totally satisfied with each other, only staying together because we’d already been together for so long.

But I knew it wasn’t right, and it would be best if we both moved on. If we both found the person we truly deserved to love. 

—

The fourth girl I loved was Eunkyo.

I met her on a blind date, actually, just out of school. My mother, convinced I'd be single forever, had set me up with a daughter of one of her church friends. I only went to please my mother, so you can imagine my surprise when this woman and I hit it off.

She was a year my junior, so still in school. Studied art, and she'd get paint stains all over my clothes and my car. But I didn't really mind. I was working some horribly depressing entry-level finance job at the time, a regular cog in the machine, and she brought color to my life. 

I confused domesticity for permanence, then. We basically lived together even though she was still in school, and she was busy, but she still made time to pack my lunch, and make me dinner, and sometimes even ironed my shirts. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I liked being taken care of, but worried that it was something she felt like she had to do, instead of something she wanted to do. But I accepted that this was her way of showing love to me, and tried to reciprocate it as best as I could. I hated myself for thinking it, but I imagined this was what marriage would be like, and imagined that she could be my wife someday.

Reality hit eventually, though, and once Eunkyo was done with school, she was offered a prestigious post-grad fellowship in New York. I didn't want her to go, of course, and looking back that was selfish of me. But I wasn't going to hold her back. I told her to go—that she couldn't turn down an opportunity like this, and that we would try to make it work. So she left, and I stayed.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't go very well. The time zones are nearly polar opposites, and she was so busy, and I was neck-deep in grunt work for the company. We always seemed to miss each other's calls. I'd send flowers for Valentine's Day that arrived two days late. She'd send a message that somehow never got to me until I was asleep. Little things like that built up, and eventually, on one of her trips back to visit Korea, we agreed to end it.

I don't regret telling her to go to New York, because I don't think I could have lived with myself if she had given up this huge step in her career for me. But still, I wondered a lot in the months after whether things could have been different. Maybe if I'd gone to New York with her, or if I'd prioritized her over my job, we could have made it work.

Later, though, I came to realize that there was a reason everything happened the way that it did. I learned to let go of things out of my control, especially the mistakes I'd made in my past. It was a painful heartbreak, but I knew everything would work out in the end. It did for her, too—the last I heard, she wound up moving to Paris and becoming a prominent artist there.

I loved her at one time, yes, but I learned that love isn't immune to timing and circumstance. And I learned how to make an effort for the person I love, but that I can’t force something that was never going to work anyway.

—

“I lied, earlier. When I said Nabi was the first girl I loved.”

You glance at Seokjin curiously. “Hmm?”

“The first girl I loved,” he says—soft, deliberate, turning to face you, “was this unbelievably huge nerd who sat in the first row of our hagwon classes. She loved photography. Always had a film camera around her neck, so she'd run around taking pictures of us, of her friends. I thought it was adorable.”

You breathe a laugh. Feel your cheeks growing warm, even as you roll your eyes. “Please stop talking.”

“She never gave me a second glance, though,” he continues, as if you haven’t spoken. He reaches for one of your hands, lacing his fingers through yours. “She was too smart for that. She actually didn't notice me until much, much later, when we were both adults, and we happened to meet again at a friend’s wedding. But… I’m glad she didn’t see me back then.” He leans in, touching his forehead to yours, and you feel your cheeks growing even hotter. “Because imagine if she dated me before I became the drop-dead gorgeous, perfect guy I was when we met—“

“Umma! Appa!”

You both jump apart and look up, startled. Standing in the doorway are Yerin and Yeseong—or, as you and Seokjin like to call them, Chaos Demons One and Two. “Umma,” your five-year-old whines, racing to climb into your lap, “Noona said you aren’t taking me with you when you go to the new house.”

“Not true,” seven-year-old Yerin insists, throwing her arms around her father’s neck, at the same time Seokjin gasps dramatically and says, “Yerin-ah, that was supposed to be a secret!”

You roll your eyes as your son’s lip quivers, threatening tears—and as Seokjin and Yerin visibly fight their mirth. “Okay, okay, knock it off. Yerin-ah, stop teasing your brother. Did you finish packing your toys like Umma asked?”

“Well—“

“Go. Run along. The movers are going to be here soon.”

Yerin obediently departs for her room, her little brother trailing after her like a shadow. The second they’re safely out of earshot, you smack Seokjin’s arm.

“Yah!” he yelps, indignant. 

“Yah you! Would you quit traumatizing our offspr—“

Before you can even finish your sentence, Seokjin’s impossibly soft lips are on yours, effectively shutting you up. 

You wonder how he manages to make every kiss feel like it’s the first. How the stars managed to align so that his past and yours, two parallel lines, wound up converging in the end. How he managed to find a path, despite all the dead-end streets, back to you.

He tastes like morning coffee. Like home. Like your forever.

An Illusion || Young President! Coriolanus Snow x reader

GIF by @unknown and divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Whispers were circulating the Academy about who the lucky girl was to be Panem’s First Lady, Coriolanus’ soon to be wife, his lover; but little do they know.

Warnings: none

A/n: does anyone know where I can find more plain gifs of Snow? I feel like it’s so limited 😭

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

From the moment you stepped foot in the Academy, the whispers had already begun. You walked with poise and confidence, the clicking of your heel making heads turn as if tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You basked in the attention your fellow peers always gave you.

You were Capitol’s darling of course. Coming from a high born, and filthy rich family, everyone knew who you were. “Y/n,” Clemensia nods her head at you with a smile as you do the same, “Clemmie,” “You’re here quite early,” She comments as the two of you walk the halls, “He had an early class so he dropped me off earlier,” You say as Livia Cardew joins the two of you.

The three of you converse in conversation, ignoring the curious glances people would give you. You stepped into Casca’s class, he was late. When moving to your seats, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop the conversations happening around you. “He’s being mentored by Dr. Gaul now. Isn’t the crazy?”

“I would love to be Panem’s First Lady.” “He’s so hot. And he’s body? Training as a Peacekeeper does have its benefits” “I’d love to know what he’s like in bed.” That comment caught you off guard but made you smirk to yourself.

Clemensia and Livia give you knowing looks as you chuckle. “Little do they know,” You say to yourself as the girls giggle quietly to themselves. “Quiet down, Quiet down everybody” Casca came in rushed and class began.

After lunch, the whispers had seemed to intensify. “The Academy is going absolutely crazy,” You shake your head as you eye groups of students talking in hushed tones as they glance at you.

In your head, all you were thinking about was the moment you were able to show Coriolanus Snow as yours. And you, his. The satisfaction of watching everyone envy you was itching your brain. “When is this day going to end,” You mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes.

Finally, the school day had ended. You accompanied Clemensia and Livia to Professor Crispus to drop off their essay before walking outside where a crowd had formed. “What is going on?” Livia questions as the three of you walk towards the crowd of students.

Once people saw your presence, they make room for you to see the front. And there he was. Coriolanus Snow. Your Coryo. He was leaned up against the car, his head turned to the side. His eyes finally land on yours, the corners of his lip turning up as he smiles at you.

“Sweetheart.” And that was enough for everyone to start gasping and watch in shock at the pet name Coriolanus gave you. Your cheeks began becoming hot as you smile and move closer to him. Even in heels, you still had to go on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands place themselves protectively on the small of your back.

You kiss his cheek as he kisses your hairline. “Clemmie, Liv,” He politely greets your best friends and his friends as they both nod back with a smile. “She’s so lucky,” “Of course she’s dating him,” Whispers began once again. “We should go, wouldn’t want to keep your presents at home waiting,” Your eyes lit up at his words and you nod.

You wave to Clem and Liv before Snow opens the car door and lets you in. He closes the car door, moving the curtains so it covered the window. “Really? Presents at home?” You scoff, crossing your arms as you move away from him. “They’re going to think I’m a spoiled brat,” You harshly say.

Snow rolls his eyes. “With that attitude you are, Princess,” He mocks as you shoot daggers at him. He sighs, massaging his forehead. “It’s true, you know,” You turn your head to him with narrowed eyes. “What’s true?” “There’s presents at home waiting for you,” Your lips part as you watch him, a sense of sadness? Was etched into his face.

Fucked up that we got monday tomorrow

fav jungkook fics + recommendations!PT II

“busy bein’ yours, to fall for somebody new” ｡ﾟ･ ☆ ° ｡ PT II

^^ PART I

young wolf by @junqkook

video games by @revkooks

the cost of jealousy by @jvngkoos

heartstrings by @cosmostae

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites

euphoria by @btsydtrash

love is a game by @lleldey

the deepest marks of essence by @lleldey

denial by @girlygguk

obsesión by @thvlouvre

summer bummer, baby by @kooktrash

two point five by @bratkook

bad omega sweet omega by @helenazbmrskai

addicted by @sparklingchim

the weekend by @chryblossomjjk

deep six by @bratkook

eight year ache by @rmdently

freaky dreaky by @mercurygguk

ego season by @sparklingchim

trigger happy by @cosmostae

BAD, SAD AND MAD by @joonberriess

the hating game by @sxtaep

10 series by @deepdarkdelights

PT III very sooon! <3

reminder | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.

warnings: explicit sexual content, exes, second chance, angst, fuckboy!jk, possessiveness, jealousy, exes with benefits, boxer!jk, unprotected sex(STAY SAFE), creampie, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, oral sex (f. rec), handjob, spanking, toxicity (a lot if it), shower sex, heterosexuals (sorry), fluff if u squint, mutual pining, sooooo much pining, minors DNI

category: two-parter

wordcount: 8.6k

a/n: ck jungkook has given me brain rot and i just had to write something about it. sorry in advance.

— m.list & concept video

Change is inevitable. Everything changes. Everyone changes. You love change, though. You don’t like clinging to things and you’re always up to try out new things. You’re the one in your friend group that’s always trying new items on a menu, always checking out random music, trying different things with your hair.

Maybe it’s because of the way you’ve grown up, always taught to move on and enjoy new things because life is short. No dwelling on the past, no asking yourself ‘why me?’, no fear of change in your life. That’s exactly how you’ve always been.

So what you don’t understand is how you allow yourself to be in this situation right now, a book you should’ve closed a long time ago.

With your face pressed into your wet sheets, back arched, bare ass in the air and lewd moans spilling from your lips as you get fucked into your mattress by the man you broke up with 2 years ago.

“Jungkook! Slow down, I’m gonna–”

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your left asscheek, your teeth sinking into the bunched up sheets in front of your face as the stinging and warmth from the spank spreads through your skin. You yelp in pain yet pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets even tighter. You usually don’t orgasm from solely penetration but the overstimulation is causing you to physically feel every single one of your nerves electrifying in your nether regions.

“Cum, then. I’ll fuck you through as many orgasms as you want.” The pace of his merciless pounding never falters and it has you seeing every celestial body in the universe every time you blink. He grunts loudly as you start clenching around him, his hand reaching for your forearm and pulling it back to press it into your back as he continues to fuck you.

Your other hand reaches behind you, pressing flat into his lower abdomen to get him to slow down but he just swats your hand away. You attempt it for a second time and this time he grabs your wrist, bringing it next to your other arm that he’s already pressing into your back, now caging both of your arms in his grasp against your back as his hips slam into your ass.

A cry rips through your throat, eyes tightly squeezing shut as you drool into the covers. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, the knot in your stomach snapping and your entire body heats up as if you’ve been set on fire. Your slick walls constantly clench around Jungkook’s dick, making him grunt your name alongside a few swear words. His hips stutter in their movement, speed faltering as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him.

He curses under his breath, letting go of your arms. He presses his hands down on your ass until you’re fully lying on your stomach, face still pressed into the sheets. He never pulls out, on the contrary, he continues to fuck into you as you sob under him, the overstimulation has you squirming like a fish out of water.

There’s a pressure against your upper back, one that you quickly realize is his bare chest as he leans into your ear. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathlessly says into your ear, a soft moan following his words and you feel his dick twitch inside of you. He’s close.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His thrusts start getting inconsistent and sloppy.

“Jungkook,” you sob, a sniff following your cry and it’s the final thing you know he needs to get that knot in his stomach to snap. It doesn’t take long after for him to shoot his load into you, coating your walls with his cum.

He moans in your ear softly, something you swear is the single best sound on Earth. Paired with the best feeling on Earth, having Jungkook fuck the shit out of you.

After a few more lazy thrusts, continuously fucking his load into you, he comes to a full stop. His hips are still pressed into your ass and his forehead is pressed against your shoulder.

•••

2 hours ago

You’re scrubbing the last of your dirty cutlery with your soapy sponge when you hear 3 soft knocks on your front door.

It’s him.

You glance at the clock that’s hung up on the wall in your kitchen, your hands automatically reaching for the kitchen towel that you slung over your shoulder when you started washing your dishes. 10:45PM. You dry your hands and neatly drape the damp kitchen towel back over the cupboard’s handle before heading into the hallway.

You peek through the peephole but it’s blackened out, already knowing who it is with the way he always presses his thumb into your peephole to keep you from seeing him. You fight the smile that’s trying to force its way onto your lips as you reach for your keys.

With a sigh, you slowly unlock your front door. Your hand pulls on the door handle, creating a bigger gap and allowing yourself to be seen as your eyes make contact with his big brown ones and his sheepish smile.

There’s a cut on his cheekbone, bags under his eyes, his long black locks pulled back into a small bun. The layers that are too short to fit into the bun frame his face so perfectly, kissing the top of his brows and tickling his temples.

Still as gorgeous as ever.

He’s wearing a black shirt and grey sweats, and he’s got luggage with him, he probably came here straight from the airport. He must be absolutely exhausted. Or at least jetlagged.

You cross your arms, closing your cardigan around your torso in the process. “You’re back.” It’s all you can say, really. It’s all you ever say when he’s suddenly in front of your front door every few days or weeks.

Like it’s become some kind of inside joke, an inside joke just for the two of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he says without any hesitation right after the words leave your mouth. He always replies with these exact words but it catches you off guard every single time.

He doesn’t wait for you to invite him in, he knows you’ll let him. Like you always have. Like you always do. Like you always will.

He struts in, kicking his shoes off his feet but neatly placing them by the door next to his luggage before returning his attention to you, his big hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer. You lean back a bit to glance up at him, your thumb gently grazing the cut on his cheekbone.

He doesn’t react, just stares at you as he lets you do whatever you want. He’ll always let you do whatever you want.

Because it’s no secret that Jungkook is still in love with you.

“Does it hurt?” you ask softly, bringing the same thumb down to rub his bottom lip, peeking at him through your pretty lashes.

He shakes his head, parting his lips as he takes your thumb into his mouth and slowly circles the tip of your thumb with his warm tongue.

“You must be hungry if you came here straight from the airport. I just made some pasta, you want some?” You move your other hand up to brush some of his hair out of his face.

“Hm, I can have you for dinner as well.”

You roll your eyes and take the opportunity to take your thumb out of his mouth and pry his hands off your waist to head into the kitchen. He huffs but quickly follows you, trailing behind you like a stray kitten.

•••

With your empty dinner plates in front of you, your conversation goes on. He’s just staring at you, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. It makes him look like a bunny.

“How long are you staying in town this time?” you question, already assuming since he usually stays a week or 2 before he flies out again.

“5 days.” His answer is almost immediate, like he knew you were going to ask that question. It’s only natural, though, you usually ask him that.

“How was Paris?” you ask as you reach for your glass of water and bring it to your lips, keeping eye contact with him over the rim of your glass.

“It was good.” He leans back into his chair, rubbing his stomach which he always does after dinner. “Cold, though.”

“Yeah? I bet some lucky ladies kept you warm, no?” you tease, knowing he hates talking about that with you. You watch as he cringes, adjusting in his seat as he sits straight up.

He glances at you for a moment with a slight frown on his face and then rises to his feet, gathering the dirty plates and utensils before heading into the kitchen. You’re used to him completely ignoring questions like that.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you momentarily look out the window. You’ve always pushed him to try new things like you do, that includes moving on from you.

He simply refuses.

You need him to move on from you so you can move on from him. It’s that simple. But every single time he stands before you, it’s like he sucks all the strength to turn him down out of your body.

The water runs and you hear the clatter of dishes, assuming he’s washing them. You get up and clean the table before walking up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his back.

He dries his hands with your kitchen towel and turns around in your arms, cupping your face delicately, his pretty brown eyes scanning your features.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he quietly asks, thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek.

He always asks this when you see him again. You always agree.

Your eyes shift from his left eye to his right consistently, a look of contemplation on your face. You both know that you really, really want him to, though.

Does he kiss the other women too? Does he caress their faces like he does you? Hold them so gently?

With a curt nod of your head, he finally leans down and presses his lips to yours. With your chin tilted up to meet his lips, your eyelids flutter close instantly, your heart rate picking up whilst a bubbling heat spreads through your body, starting in your stomach and growing all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

His lips were made to be on top of yours.

His kiss gets a bit needier, his hands holding your face so gently yet so firm, as if he’s scared to let you go. He tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, a soft muffled sound resounding in your throat.

The wet muscle you feel poking your lip doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you happily welcome his tongue, letting him lick into your mouth. By now his kiss has gotten heavy, tongue ready to devour you and swallow you whole.

With your hands still on his waist, you squeeze him gently, wanting to feel more of him. Needing to feel more of him.

After a few more minutes of passionate making out, he pulls back and deeply inhales. He’s still holding your face, tilting it even more to make you look up at him. “Will you let me fuck you?”

He always asks this when you see him again. You always agree.

Your heart jolts in your chest at the unexpectedly expected words. If the making out didn’t already leave you soaking, those words surely did.

You quickly nod to his question. As if you’d ever decline. He drops his hands, moving one to wrap around your wrist as he starts leading you toward your bedroom.

He sneaks his arm around your waist and pushes you toward your bed again, slowly letting you down onto your mattress. You reach for your pyjama shorts and yank them down, leaving you in your tank top and panties.

He drops down onto his knees in front of the bed, dragging you to the edge of your mattress by your thighs. You softly gasp at the sudden force pulling you, propping yourself up on your elbows as you set your gaze on him between your thighs, intently.

He takes his time, bringing his index finger to your clothed sex to gently rub all over your slit. Your hips jolt up like they’ve got a mind of their own but Jungkook presses you down by your lower stomach with one hand, shaking his head.

“Let me take my time, baby. You know I’ve missed this pussy.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, you let yourself fall back on your mattress. You’re sprawled on your bed with your ex-boyfriend in between your thighs and if you told yourself at 16 that this is who you were going to be when you grow up, that girl would’ve laughed at you.

Because you don’t dwell. You don’t go back. You don’t cling to the past.

But all those thoughts instantly disappear like fog in your head the moment Jungkook presses a kiss to your clit through your panties. A soft gasp leaves your lips, your fingers tucking under the hem of your panties as you try to yank them off.

He simply chuckles as he allows you to take them off, his eyes glued to your glistening sex. He wastes no time latching his tongue onto your wetness, licking a thick stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your pulsating clit. He hums in delight at the taste of you.

A cry falls from your lips, your fingers making their way to the top of his skull. You tug on the loose strands that frame his perfect face so well as you grind into his mouth.

“Hm, missed me?” he purrs, pressing you back down by pushing on your pelvic bone. He slides his hands up the back of your thighs from your ass to the back of your knees, pushing them back as he continues to devour you.

Soft moans spill from your lips as you arch your back off the bed, toes curling at the sensation of your clit being sucked on with so much fervor. “Jungkook!” you cry, pressing your palms into your eyes to try and keep yourself from bursting into tears at the pleasure.

He simply hums against your sex, dark eyes peeking up at you. His tongue slides down your slit, teasing your hole before licking back up to your clit. “There’s nothing better than the taste of this pussy,” he mumbles before wrapping his lips around your clit again, gently sucking on it.

A soft moan bubbles up the back of your throat, leaving your lips which makes him smirk against your skin. “Hm, even better than your little girlfriends?” you tease. You always use the words ‘little girlfriends’ to refer to all the girls in the city he fucks besides you, all the girls he fucks overseas, all the girls he fucks that aren’t you.

He peeks up at you again, this time a frown on his brows. You steal a glance at him when you sense him looking at you, a sheepish smile on your face. He pulls back and wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he lets go of your legs and rises to his feet.

You eternally groan at the fact that made him stop fucking you with his mouth but the show he’s giving you as he removes his shirt almost makes you thankful that he did.

“Yeah. And I fucked a bunch of ‘em in Paris,” he replies as he tugs his sweatpants down his legs, kicking them somewhere across the floor.

The slight raise in your eyebrows shows that you’re surprised. Jungkook never comments on your attempts at provoking him and mentions of other women.

You just shot yourself in the foot because you really, really don’t want to imagine him fucking someone else. You usually bring it up to provoke him and he usually dismisses it but this time, he puts a vivid image in your head and you don’t like it.

You huff as you sit up on your bed, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His response is immediate, his hand reaching for the hem of your tank top. You let him pull it off your body and allow him to ogle at your breasts.

He tosses your tank top at the growing pile of clothes on your floor before licking his thumb and bringing it to one of your nipples, rubbing circles around it with his wet thumb.

You sigh at the stimulation, “Were they good?” You can’t help but ask him this question, your voice coming out a bit choked but he doesn’t comment on it.

“They were fucking great.”

You almost bite a piece off your tongue, the entity that’s called Jealousy menacingly looming over your body and ready to devour you whole. You know you always provoke him but you only do it because he never responds.

You don’t comment further, you just reach for the hem of his boxers but he stops you. He swats your hands away and pushes you further back onto your mattress, so you scoot back whilst still sitting up right. He climbs into your bed next to you, sitting down on his ankles as he leans over you.

You place your hands behind you, leaning back on them as you glance up at him. He’s staring down at you, hand sliding up and down your thigh. With a little pressure, he spreads your thighs further apart and his fingers find their way back to your sex.

You grunt once his fingers make contact with your clit again, a tiny shiver running down your legs. You bend your legs at the knees, placing your feet on the edge of your bed and spreading your thighs further, still looking up at Jungkook who is staring you down like he wants to absolutely ruin you.

The tips of his middle and ring finger start rubbing consistent circles onto your pussy and you scrunch your eyebrows together, mouth falling open.

“Whose pussy is this?” he murmurs, fingers sliding down your slit and rubbing in between your folds. You moan softly at the sensation, thighs jerking in the process.

You quip, “Mine.” You know that’s not the answer he’s looking for, especially with the way his eyes narrow at you.

“Mad because I finally answered your stupid questions for once?” he scoffs, fingers sliding straight into you which earns a surprised gasp from you.

Your eyebrows scrunch together even more, your mouth still agape and your big eyes pleading for more. It’s the face you know Jungkook can’t resist, he usually kisses you right away.

But this time, he doesn’t. He doesn’t kiss you. He just stares you down as his hand starts slamming into your sex, fingers rubbing against your slick walls with each movement.

The lewd sound of your wetness almost embarrasses you but your mind is too clouded, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

Before you can fathom what just happened, you yelp out in painful pleasure. Jungkook has retreated his fingers and brought his palm down with a slap to your wet pussy, making your legs jerk and your hands reach up to grab at his biceps.

“Ah!” you cry out at the sudden impact, your nose warming up and you know you’re about to start tearing up.

“I asked you a question.” His voice resounds inside your head, it almost makes the return of his fingers inside of you go unnoticed by you.

He fucks his fingers into you, palm slamming down on your clit whilst his fingers thrust in and out of you.

Moans spill from your throat as you hold onto his neck now, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious torture on your sex.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

You cry out when he slaps your pussy once again, your hips jolting under him but he pushes you down by your lower abdomen. He enters his fingers again, palm still continuously slamming down on your clit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you manage to say without sobbing, the pleasure he’s giving you is making you dizzy.

“Bullshit,” he grunts, picking up the pace of his hand.

You want to pull his face closer by tugging on his neck but he doesn’t budge, his hand adamant on making you cum and it’s succeeding.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, clenching around his fingers with your eyes shut tightly. You wince when he pulls his fingers out but you have no time to react when he suddenly rubs all 4 fingers in a waving motion against your clit at an incomprehensible speed.

You cry out again, squirming under him when a different kind of knot in your stomach snaps. You open your eyes just in time to watch yourself squirt all over his hand, all over your sheets, all over your floor.

All the strength in your body dissolves and you fall back against your mattress, the sensation of squirting all over your mattress still going as you writhe under him.

His torture never stops, the demonic speed in which he assaults your clit is enough to have tears bursting out of your eyesockets and the longer he keeps going, the more you keep squirting. “You gonna answer or want me to keep going?

His name falls out of your mouth in a series of sobs, “Fuck–! Yeah, I’m mad!” you admit, pushing against his arm to try and get him to finally stop.

And he does, he pulls his hand away. He takes a while to just stare you down and if you weren’t already, you’d describe the feeling as feeling naked under him.

“So then why do you keep asking me if you know you’ll get mad?” he asks as he starts tugging his boxers down, allowing his erection to spring free. He kicks his underwear off the bed as he uses his wet hand to pump himself, essentially lubing himself up with your slick.

Not that you’d need any type of lube now, you are completely and disgustingly soaked.

You’re still on your back, trying to catch your breath when his hand slips under the back of your knee. He spreads you for him again and circles his tip all around your sensitive sex.

“Jungkook,” you warn, the effects of overstimulation making anything you say sound like a pathetic cry.

“Shhh, I know.” He pushes into you and usually circles your clit with his thumb but he doesn’t this time, for obvious reasons. You’re grateful, though. Jungkook can get pretty rough with his so-called punishments – that are absolutely sublime – but you don’t think you could take any more clit stimulation now.

He places his hands on either side of your head and leans forward, his silver chain dangling in your face. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away to watch your face as his hips start slamming into you.

You sob his name, legs falling limb after an attempt at wrapping them around his waist. He leans down and presses his lips to your cheeks, softly kissing your tears away.

You sniffle, enjoying his proximity as he continues to fuck into you. Soft moans escape his throat too and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world. He sounds angelic. His lips retreat from your face in the meantime as he watches your face, a look of admiration on his.

“Do you kiss them as well?” you quietly whimper, sincerity in your eyes instead of the usual teaseful look.

He observes you for a moment longer, gaze dropping to your lips quickly before returning to your eyes.

You’d tease Jungkook about being with other women, something he hated and he never took the bait, and in the two years after your break up of the two of you casually having sex whenever he’s back in town, you’d never crossed the emotional territory. Because you had always taught yourself to move on, to not dwell, to not beat yourself up.

But with Jungkook, it’s just inexplicable. You want him, you need him, you breathe him.

You didn’t expect this time to be so emotional. So raw. So unchanged.

“Would kissing be worse than fucking?” he asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. You try to fight the quiver in your bottom lip but you can’t help it, your hands wrapping around each of his wrists that are caging your head in between them.

You turn your head to look away from his overwhelming gaze, pressing your lips to the side of his arm.

Out of the blue, he picks up the pace and starts fucking into you again. Several moans and cries fall from your lips, muffled by the skin of his arm. You sense his eyes on you from your peripherals but you don’t return the eye contact, you can’t. You might burst into tears. And this time it won’t be from pleasure.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips to your neck, kissing the skin under your earlobe and making his way down.

The words ‘I love you’ are stuck in your throat, threatening to blurt out. With all the strength you can gather, you swallow them down, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

“No one will ever compare to you.” His voice is muffled from kissing your skin but you can hear him loud and clear, aside from the skin slapping and the wet sounds from your pussy being pummeled by his hips.

You shake your head in response to him, not wanting to hear that at this moment. You’ll just fall in love with him all over again and you’d rather die, you’d much rather die.

“Shut up,” you mumble after another sniffle, turning your head to face him again. He takes his lips off your throat, letting his gaze drape all over you again and it makes you feel so small.

His thrusts come to an abrupt halt, making you wince. In one swift motion, he pulls out of you with a grunt. He sits back on his ankles and gently – yet with a firm grip – turns you around onto your stomach. His hands return to your body with a tight grip around your hips, yanking your ass up into the air.

“You want to know how I fuck them? I’ll show you,” he says breathlessly as he shoves himself right back into your wetness, fingers sinking into your skin as he pounds his hips into your ass and the back of your thighs.

This is how he fucked you when you’d have an argument back when you were together, when he was mad at you, when you were acting up. He would say he didn’t want those eyes of yours looking up at him if he was fucking you with no emotion, with no warmth, with no love.

This is his way of answering your annoying questions, you suppose.

You mewl under him, your hands gripping the soaking sheets tightly to support yourself from the momentum of his thrusts. A low grunt rumbles in his chest when you clench your walls around him. His speed is almost demonic at this point, your body being sent into overdrive as your stomach tightens again.

“Jungkook! Slow down, I’m gonna–”

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your left asscheek, your teeth sinking into the bunched up sheets in front of your face as the stinging and warmth from the spank spreads through your skin. You yelp in pain yet pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets even tighter. You usually don’t orgasm from solely penetration but the overstimulation is causing you to physically feel every single one of your nerves electrifying in your nether regions.

“Cum, then. I’ll fuck you through as many orgasms as you want.” The pace of his merciless pounding never falters and it has you seeing every celestial body in the universe every time you blink. He grunts loudly as you start clenching around him, his hand reaching for your forearm and pulling it back to press it into your back as he continues to fuck you.

Your other hand reaches behind you, pressing flat into his lower abdomen to get him to slow down but he just swats your hand away. You attempt it for a second time and this time he grabs your wrist, bringing it next to your other arm that he’s already pressing into your back, now caging both of your arms in his grasp against your back as his hips slam into your ass.

A cry rips through your throat, eyes tightly squeezing shut as you drool into the covers. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, the knot in your stomach snapping and your entire body heats up as if you’ve been set on fire. Your slick walls constantly clench around Jungkook’s dick, making him grunt your name alongside a few swear words. His hips stutter in their movement, speed faltering as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him.

He curses under his breath, letting go of your arms. He presses his hands down on your ass until you’re fully lying on your stomach, face still pressed into the sheets. He never pulls out, on the contrary, he continues to fuck into you as you sob under him, the overstimulation has you squirming like a fish out of water.

There’s a pressure against your upper back, one that you quickly realize is his bare chest as he leans into your ear. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathlessly says into your ear, a soft moan following his words and you feel his dick twitch inside of you. He’s close.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His thrusts start getting inconsistent and sloppy.

“Jungkook,” you sob, a sniff following your cry and it’s the final thing you know he needs to get that knot in his stomach to snap. It doesn’t take long after for him to shoot his load into you, coating your walls with his seed.

He moans in your ear softly, something you swear is the single best sound on Earth. Paired with the best feeling on Earth, having Jungkook fuck the shit out of you.

After a few more lazy thrusts, continuously fucking his load into you, he comes to a full stop. His hips are still pressed into your ass and his forehead is pressed against your shoulder.

He pulls out and collapses onto your mattress, right next to your body. You crack one of your eyes open to peek at him. He’s on his back, the back of his hand pressed into his forehead with his eyes shut tight as he’s focused on steadying his breath.

You stare at him for a moment, captivated by his utter beauty. Your eyes trail the bridge of his nose, his pretty black lashes, his red cheeks and swollen lips. The thin layer of sweat makes him look like he’s covered in glitter, his cheeks glistening like a glazed donut, the pretty moles on his face making his soft skin look like a starry night sky.

The small cut on his cheekbone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course. The wound has seemingly healed but the skin around it is still purple and has some traces of yellow too. He’s way too beautiful to be fighting for a living.

You quickly avert your eyes when he opens his eyes again, staring straight at you as if he sensed you staring at him. You clear your throat awkwardly as you slowly turn onto your other side, giving him your cold back.

A finger starts drawing patterns on the bare skin of your back and you’re incapable of stopping the goosebumps from popping out of your skin. The mattress dips, telling you he’s scooting closer until he’s completely pressed up into your back.

He places his lips on your shoulder blade, not moving them, not kissing your shoulder. Just keeping them there, like they belong there, like they’re magnetized.

Neither of you say anything.

Nothing has to be said. You just enjoy the moment.

Because you know once he walks out your front door, you won’t see him until the day he has to catch another flight.

You know where he goes, you know what he does, you know how he spends the nights when he’s not with you.

He just showed you.

And you have no right to feel any way about it. You broke his heart.

Shattered his heart into so many pieces that you’re still the first one he sees when he’s back in town, you’re still the only one he actually lies with.

You’re the only one.

But you’re also not the only one.

•••

You stir, eyes fluttering open in the darkness of your room. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and recognize your surroundings. It’s then when you notice Jungkook’s tattooed arm lazily slung around your waist. Soft puffs leave his mouth, his breathing slow and very quiet snores fill up the room.

You silently reach for your phone, turning the screen to you and almost being blinded by the light of your phone. You squint as you try to figure out what time it is. 6:01AM.

You’re startled by the sudden jerk of his arm and you realize he’s waking up. With a turn of your head, you glance at him. He peeks at you through one eye, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Sorry,” you start, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shakes his head, his lips puckered as he leans into your face. He places his lips on your jaw, softly kissing down your neck which awakens the goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin.

You squirm once his breath hits your neck. “That tickles,” you giggle as you scoot away from him but he doesn’t let you get too far, quickly climbing on top of you.

You turn onto your back, tired eyes staring up at him, his beautiful hair falling forward which frames his face beautifully. It’s now that you’re reminded you’re both still naked and it makes your cheeks instantly heat up. Not because you’re embarrassed but because Jungkook’s body is temptation itself.

His muscles are soft and squishy now that they’re not flexed but you know how tight and hard his body really is. Your eyes trail the contours of his pecs and biceps, at least what you can make out in the dark.

His black locks must’ve escaped the elastic that kept his hair together in a bun whilst he was sleeping. Your hands automatically reach up, running your fingers through his beautiful hair to push it out of his face. “It’s getting quite long, hm?” you muse, ruffling through it in the meantime.

He lets you, of course, a soft chuckle leaving his throat as you play with his hair.

“You don’t like it?” he quips, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. You can hear the attempt at making it sound like a joke but you know him well enough to know he values your opinion about him.

Your tongue slides over your teeth from left to right, fighting your smirk. “Are you crazy? I love it.” You tug the hair on the back of his head, smirking when he hisses at the grip you have on him.

He pokes your rib which makes you release his hair, a quiet yelp leaving your lips at the feeling. “What time is it?” he mumbles as he buries his face in the crook over your neck, leaving wet pecks all over your skin.

“6 in the fucking morning,” you groan as you squeeze his waist, nails grazing his skin gently, rubbing patterns on his exposed skin.

He grunts as he pulls away from your neck, rolling off of you in the meantime. Your eyes are greeted with his bare back as he sits up in your bed, your hand automatically tracing the back muscles he’s putting on display for you. “I should leave, Yoongi needs me to go take new photos for my passport,” he mumbles as he lazily rubs his face.

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Jungkook’s coach-slash-manager, Min Yoongi. You haven’t seen him since the breakup. “Already?” you ask as you crawl toward him, “Can’t you stay a little while longer?” You press your bare chest into his back and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing soft kisses to his earlobe.

His hands automatically move up to yours on his chest, bringing one of your hands up to his lips to press a kiss to it. “I was supposed to do it yesterday because I ran into some trouble at the airport. I have to fly to Australia in a couple of days.” He peels your hands off his body and gets up, pulling you up with him.

“Let’s go take a shower, we passed out in all that shit,” he laughs as he nods towards the big wet patch, right where you squirted. You’re instantly reminded of the fact you both passed out right after that intense fuck session, you didn’t even clean up after yourself. Gross.

You wince in disgust and scrunch your nose up as you nod quickly, swinging your legs off the bed and placing your feet on the floor. You stand up and let him lead you to your bathroom, he could do it blindfolded – obviously, he used to live here.

You awkwardly wobble to the bathroom, the load he fucked into you last night threatening to spill out of you with each step you take.

You switch the lights on and let him close the door behind you, trapping you against it in between his arms. He takes this opportunity to kiss you softly, catching you off guard by the sudden affection.

You welcome his kiss nonetheless, your hands roaming all over his shoulders and squeezing his muscles. You can’t get enough of him.

He abruptly pulls away and rubs your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, something unfamiliar pooling in his dark eyes as he stares you down. He parts his lips and it looks like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t. He closes his mouth and takes a step back, turning around and reaches for the lever to let the water run before he enters the shower.

A frown climbs onto your brows but you don’t comment on it. You won’t push him to talk. You quietly follow him, simply just getting into the shower and sliding the glass door shut. You cross your arms nervously as you wait for the water to heat up.

Jungkook is already used to cold showers so he hops right under, letting the droplets of water trickle down his honey skin. You reach out to him, suddenly getting the urge to slap his buttcheek, and you do.

He grunts as he glares at you over his shoulder, his buttcheeks clenching in response. You laugh as you reach for the body wash, squirting a generous amount onto your palm before you rub your hands all over his back. It’s almost like it happens automatically, he always used to ask you if you could wash your back for him.

You rub down to his buttcheeks and he whines your name childishly, making you laugh loudly. “Come on, you know I love your booty,” you tease, reaching around his waist from the back to grope his pecs.

He throws his head back in exasperation but he can’t help but chuckle, the lukewarm water finally hitting your skin. You sigh as you hold onto him, feeling his heart drum against your palm.

It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of the water hitting your bodies and the tiles filling up your eardrums. That is, until Jungkook breaks the silence.

“Have you been with anyone?” he quietly asks. The sudden question knocks the air out of your lungs for a moment because he has never asked this before in the 2 years you’ve been broken up.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he could feel your heart thumping against his back.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s body tenses under your skin and it isn’t long until he turns around to face you, a blank expression on his face but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you know how it feels knowing you’re overseas fucking other people? Even when you’re here,” you explain in a panic, heart racing as he just stares you down intently.

“You’re the one that walked out on me, Y/N.”

His words sting.

“You know why I did that, Jungkook,” you whisper, tearing your gaze away from him as you pull your arms away from him to rub your own arms in an attempt to comfort yourself.

He huffs, “Yeah, and it was bullshit.”

Your head snaps back in his direction, anger bubbling in your chest and threatening to burst out of your throat in a pathetic cry. “What’s that supposed to mean, you dickhead?”

“Exactly what you think it means.” He nonchalantly shrugs, looking away from you for a moment as he rinses the bodywash. “Breaking up with me because I was ‘gone all the time’ and had a ‘dangerous job’, but you’re still here. You still let me hold you, you still let me kiss you, you still let me fuck you.”

You scoff, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge. You spin on your heels and reach out to the glass door of the shower, ready to make your exit but Jungkook is quicker. He doesn’t let you.

He pulls you back by your bicep, tugging on it until your back meets his chest. “You’re not going to rob me of the little time I have with you,” he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Let go.”

“No.” His reply is instantaneous, arms strongly caging you in.

You blink back the tears threatening to fall, his proximity enough to calm you down yet drive you crazy. You shake your head and begin, “Jungkook, I–”

“I’ll always want you, Y/N. Just say the words.”

You freeze, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You already know this. Jungkook doesn’t shy away from telling you about his feelings and reminds you every once in a while.

Before you can let your mind wander even more, you’re turned around by his strong arms in one swift motion, both his hands moving up to cup your face.

He tilts your face to make you look at him but you stay quiet. The words he’s yearning for you to say never come.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, not able to take this silence and not in the mood for a staring competition.

He doesn’t waste any time, he instantly leans down and presses his lips against yours whilst slowly pushing you backwards until your back collides with the cold tiles.

You deepen the kiss, your hands roaming his chest as he licks into your mouth. A grunt resounds in the back of your throat at the feeling of his hand slowly making its way down your waist, to your hip, to finally your bum.

He grabs a handful of your asscheek, squeezing it and it elicits a lewd moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to feel his growing erection inflating against your lower stomach and you reach for it.

You pump him slowly, making him grunt into your mouth. You rub your thumb all over his tip, gathering his precum and spreading it all over the head of his dick.

He pulls away from the kiss, his head dropping to your shoulder as you continue to pleasure him. His hand continues to knead your asscheek, a low swear word escaping his lips.

“Look at me,” you whisper, hand still jerking him off at a torturously slow pace.

He lifts his head off your shoulder slowly and let’s his eyes meet yours, head tilted downwards as he towers over you.

“How does it feel, knowing I did this with another man?” you ask him, a clear attempt at provoking him as you peek at him through your pretty lashes.

Something between an angry scowl and a confused frown etches onto his face and he merely grunts in response. His hand stops kneading your asscheek and before you know it, he’s turned you around, your front pressed into the tiles.

You’ve let go of his dick, hands now on each side of your breasts against the tiles in front of you. Your cheek is pressed against it as well, head turned enough to see him over your shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear about that fucking garbage,” he grunts, his hand pressed flat against the spot in between your shoulder blades as he holds you against the wall firmly.

You huff, but before you know it, his hand comes down to your asscheek in a powerful slap. It makes you jolt under his hold, a yelp ripping through your throat.

He spreads your asscheeks and slowly rubs the tip of his dick between your folds, earning a moan from you and you relax under his touch.

He pushes into you, eliciting a gasp from you at the intrusion. The delicious burn makes you arch your back more. He doesn’t really wait, he just starts slamming his hips into you, a series of cries and moans falling from your lips.

“Gonna fuck me like one of your hoes again?” you snark in between moans. Another slap to your asscheek makes you grunt and you look over your shoulder at him again.

He doesn’t even look at you, just snakes his hand around your face and drapes his palm over your mouth as he peels your face off the tiles and toward him, making you arch your back even more.

He continues to fuck angrily into you, “I fucking hate you,” he grunts, eyes glued to his dick disappearing inside of you.

You moan into his palm, eyes rolling back as the head of his dick repeatedly kisses your cervix. “Jungkook–!”

His other hand grips onto your waist, keeping you steady as he pounds into you. The strength in his hand has you seeing stars, if he put just a little more strength into it, you’re convinced he could crack your ribs.

“Come with me to Australia,” he whispers in your ear, lips softly brushing against the shell.

You close your eyes as you listen to his words. He’s often offered to take you with him, offered any way to keep seeing you, to keep being with you, to still have you.

“Please,” he whispers in desperation, the hand on your waist moving down to your sex as he furiously rubs your clit.

You cry into his hand, squirming and writhing under him but he has you under control. His thrusts never falter in speed and it has your eyes rolling back as you recognize the familiar knot in your stomach growing.

“Am gonna cum,” you whimper into his palm, but he doesn’t comment as he continues to destroy you.

He presses a kiss to the back of your ear, teeth gently nibbling on your earlobe and you slowly start losing control.

Your entire body is set alight, his hand leaving your mouth so he can listen to your pretty moans for him. Your orgasm comes to you like a punch to the gut, your eyes shutting tightly as pure bliss takes over you. You squirm under him, hips involuntarily jolting and knees buckling.

Both his hands return to your waist as he continues to fuck into you, wanting to get to his own release.

You’re fucked out, pressing your cheek against the tiles as moans continue to spill from your lips.

It doesn’t take long after for Jungkook to cum, shooting his release straight into you as he moans your name softly into your ear alongside a few swear words, which you’ve grown used to.

His thrusts get inconsistent, his breaths heavy and his grip on you loosens until he comes to a complete stop.

You stay there, mind clouded with nothing but Jungkook.

You’d considered going with him often but being on planes and having jet lag every few days wasn’t your dream, it was his. And while you would give up your life for him, you didn’t want him giving up his life for you. You know he’d start taking less fights, training, matches just to please you, to be with you, to love you.

He quietly pulls out but you don’t budge. When he notices, he takes it upon himself to clean you up, draping the showerhead over you, washing your body, your hair, his body, his hair.

The rest of the shower is quiet.

Not a single word was spoken.

•••

You both get dressed in silence, the occasional clinking of metal and ruffling of fabric being the only sounds in the room.

After he’s fully dressed and you’re back in your comfortable pajamas, you head down the corridor with him closely following behind you.

A soft exhale pushes past your lips when you unlock your front door as he puts his shoes on. You suddenly slouch, pressing your forehead against the front door. You think about the situation for a moment, the ruffling of him putting his shoes on being the only thing you hear.

“What?” he asks once he straightens his back and sees you looking out of it.

You push yourself off the door, turning to glance at him before momentarily looking away. “What are we doing, Jungkook?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is not right.” You shake your head, your hand moving up to adjust the earring in your earlobe. “Why do you keep showing up at my front door?”

You’d never asked him that before so he’s surprised, the slight raise in his eyebrows being proof of that.

His brown eyes stare you down, a look of contemplation on his face before he takes a step closer to you – making your heartbeat mess up its perfectly fine pace.

“Why do you keep opening it for me?”

He knows he’s got you, that much is clear. You’re at fault as much as he is. You know you shouldn’t keep letting him in but you do and you always will. You’ll always want him.

He reaches for the door handle but you make no effort to move out of his way, essentially letting him cage you in between him and the door.

You really don’t want him to go.

You prepare to speak, clearing your throat in hopes that your voice doesn’t give out. “I’m trying to forget about you. You know that.”

His gaze burns holes in your irises, a whimper threatening to burst from your throat at the intensity. He leans down and presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss but pulls away too quickly for you, your lips chasing his for a split second before you realize he has already pulled away.

“I will never let you forget about me.”

The words leave his mouth with a certain arrogance yet desperation before he pulls you toward him by your waist. You think he’s going to kiss you again but he’s simply pulling you out of the way, to allow himself to open the door and leave.

And he does, your sad eyes intently watching as he exits your once-shared home and closes the door behind him, luggage in hand.

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