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Mr. Right (Swipe)

Pairing: Jungkook / You Genre: one shot, fratboy!au, drummer!au, enemies to lovers!au Rating: M Warnings: slow burn, library sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex Word count: 30.1k Summary: Jeon Jungkook is well aware that he’s the bane of your existence. He just loves to push your buttons and lives to see you all riled up. So, what happens then when he catches you swiping left on his Tinder profile during class?

Jungkook is late to his class. He’s not just late, he is terribly late. Running on two and a half hours of sleep and caffeine, he quickly dashes through the campus grounds to get to the building.

A few minutes later when he arrives, he quickly makes a decision to enter through the top part of the auditorium.

Once seated on one of the seats in the last row, he rummages through his backpack and puffs out a tired sigh. Great. He managed to shove in his water bottle, his drum sticks, a packet of chips and a protein bar this morning but not his notebook.

He then turns to the person on his right, surprise settling on him when he sees that his seatmate is none other than his favorite person to annoy.

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between roommates | jeon jungkook au

summary | you’ve got a crush on kim namjoon. Namjoon being jungkook’s friend, jungkook being your roommate. things get complicated somewhere down the line that leaves him regretting pushing you toward his own friend when he wants you just as bad. as roommates he knows you shouldn’t, but damn did he really want you.

warnings | roommates one shot!, fluff, SMUT, Namjoon is kinda a fuckboy, jungkook is too but not as bad, drinking, heavy makeouts, a little bit of Namjoon x reader, safe sex, cunnilingus, pet names, oral (f recieving), missionary, they break a headboard, not that many warnings idk, not edited.

“No offense, but I don’t think you and I will ever work out. I need someone I can actually hold a conversation with on a more philosophical level.”

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Peach | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

Summary: the one where you won’t stop poking your bf’s ass so now you gotta face its consequences.

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 2 k

Warnings: brat oc, spanking, kinda ass eating?, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n: I saw a video and it inspired me to write about bf!jk. This is actually the koo morning couple, maybe I should just make a Drabble series for them (¬◡¬)✧ anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this pwp, do let me know your thoughts about this one! Oh and also, it’s not proofread so ignore any grammar mistakes that might be there hahaha…ha.. (・_・;)

Song:juicy by doja cat

mlist

“Fucking y/n, do it one more time and I’m gonna fucking punish you,” Jungkook spits with a poker face, lips drawing into a tight line as the darkness in his eyes shows how serious he is being right now. His harsh tone shoots arousal straight down your nether region as you bite your lip, raising your eyebrows in a challenging way. 

It all started when you got home to a hungry Jungkook looking in the fridge for something before he found the said something— his banana milk. He didn’t notice you entering as he continued drinking the milk, still looking in the fridge. You planned on giving him a tight hug but your eyes fell on his butt instead. His butt definitely did get bigger from all the workouts he has been doing. Your eyes sparkled with a glint of shenanigans that filled your mind. 

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daisy | kth. (m)

➵ summary: sleeping with your infuriating, unfairly attractive rival in art school? stupid. sleeping with him without protection? even more stupid. when you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy.

➵ pairing: taehyung x reader 

➵ genre: rivals/fuck buddies to lovers!au, accidental pregnancy, young parents!au, the fluffiest fluff, light angst, smut

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 16k

➵ warnings: swearing, mentions of addiction + counselling, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, breast fondling, oral (m & f. receiving), face-riding, clit-biting, spanking, dirty talk, deep-throating, ball-fondling, fingering, emotional/passionate sex, rough sex, scratching, creampie

➵ a/n: would you believe me if I said this was originally written in february?? HAHA this is a request by @feelsaesthetic​ for bgn’s 2 hearts, 1 love valentine’s day event!! this fic consists of taehyung, pragma (enduring love), slow burn, and an artist au with m&ms (the perfect first date) <3  I really hope you enjoy my interpretation of your request loves 🥺 thank you endlessly to my loves @taegularities​ & @amourtae​ for betaing and commenting!! (THE TAGS FINALLY WORK YAY) as always, your feedback means the world to me 💓

➵ playlist: die for you by the weeknd

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” 

You smile tentatively, swallowing dryly as you stand in front of a trendy restaurant; sleek with its atmosphere, cozy with its interior. Similarly, your companion clears his throat with a fist over his mouth, restlessly shuffling his feet. 

It’s quite comedic how you’re nervous for this date tonight, as though it’s with some Godforsaken unknown tinder fling. When in reality, you’re going on a date with the estranged man you have a five-year-old child with; Kim Taehyung. 

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bad karma | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection, and you cannot read this as a stand-alone.

— summary; in which you two can’t run from your problems any longer. 

— contents and warnings; smut, fluff, a disgusting amount of angst, badboy!jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies to lovers, (not so) secret relationship, arguments, smoking, they take a break, everyone is sad, jisoo feels betrayed, more cinematic parallels to the previous parts, FINALLY the L word, two smut scenes!, dirty talk, breast play, so much kissing, soft sex, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, fingering, pet names, praise kink, 1 single spank, unprotected sex (don’t.), creampie, sentimental cockwarming lol, one (1) mention of “daddy” but more mockingly than as the actual kink, anyways this goes downhill really fast but it has a happy ending so hang on!! 

— words; 23,7k

— author’s note; what can I say except: I’m sorry? We’ve finally reached The Angst. Hope it doesn’t disappoint. (Ps: the “tribulation” drabble is very important for this part!! Also the “feels like summer” one. So please read those if you haven’t already!) 

Thinking back now, it was impressive that you and Jungkook managed to go as far as you did without any major problems arising and threatening your relationship. Also thinking back now, it was quite obvious that those issues would catch up to you sooner or later. 

Yongsun was somewhat interested in the mystical, spiritual parts of life — which was the reason why she almost joined a cult and sold her soul, and also why you started to pay attention to equal numbers in the first place. By the end of the summer, even if you didn’t believe it one bit, those so-called angel numbers were starting to get obnoxious given how often you saw them on your phone screen and, every single time, the meaning would be the same: big changes coming, life is moving towards a different cycle. A tower moment, if you will. 

You thought that was the biggest cop-out in history: life is always changing, always moving and, if you believed something like that, even an alteration so small as a change in your class schedule would be enough confirmation that those repeated numbers were correct. Nevertheless, even if you weren’t buying all that esoteric mumble jumble your roommate drilled into your brain, it was obvious that something was about to shift. 

Before all that, summer had been perfect, a huge slice of paradise that you were sure you would only experience once in a lifetime. The days you spent with Jungkook were healing, comforting, and you walked out of that month (and a half!) by his side much more secure in your relationship. Even if your last night together wasn’t exactly textbook romance, it still had depth in its own, gut-wrenching way. 

And that was where the main issue started. 

You had made a promise to Jungkook that night: that you wouldn’t leave him like he meant nothing to you; that you would be there for him if ever he needed you. And, for those last few months, you had been truthful to your word. Still, considering your shared inability to fully discuss your feelings for one another, your much-awaited return to campus wasn’t as tranquil as you had hoped it would be. 

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;sleepy (m)

FIRST LOVE, LAST LOVE

Jungkook’s never too sleepy for sex…

pairing; jeon jungkook x reader genre/warnings; domesticated goodness in the form of smut and fluff, morning sex, sleepy jungkook, established relationship words; 2,254

more﹆chapter index

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b i g o l e f r e a k

p a i r i n g : jungkook x reader

g e n r e : fuckboy-friends w/benefits au.

t a g s : possessive behavior, jealous sex, toxic jk!, reader’s a freak, college setting, car sex, exhibitionism, mentioned recording, creampies, y’all low key not good for each other, sneaky link!jk, degradation, dirty talk, reader’s on her hot girl shit, slight cum play

s u m m a r y : you’re both exclusive only to each other. jungkook fucks the way he acts—crazy, hard. too bad you’re only here for the ride..

w o r d c o u n t : 2k

It’s another Netflix and chill situation, you’re not so sure why you keep coming around. Not because you felt some way or anything, it was just that you had class early in the morning. You couldn’t afford to go sleep deprived, more than you were anyways.

“Ride it good baby,” Jungkook licked his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, “just like that.” He purred softly.

He used his hands to guide your movements making you bounce at a slow and steady pace. Quiet moans and sighs escaped your lips, your mouth watering from the feeling his thick cock sliding against that special spot inside of you. At this rate you could cum from this slow pace, his cock was more than enough to get you there.

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nip it in the bud (m) – kth

➻ female reader x taehyung

➻ going to get a piercing au/completing bucket list au + my brother’s best friend au + tattoo artist!taehyung

➻ genres: smut, romance

➻ length & status: 10k words; complete

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; taehyung has tattoos and piercings, he and his big hands are illegal, tae’s oral fixation is entirely out of control, nipple sucking/breast play, semi-public sex (? idk tbh), the pussy eating he does is sloppy and gross, squirting, nasty/messy sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom and be safe kids OR ELSE), riding, creampie, pussy stuffing cuz tae has a big dick (I don’t think you understand it’s GIGANTIC), multiple orgasms

➻ summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

➻ a/n: this was born out of a TikTok where I learned that tattoo artists have to make sure your nipples are hard before piercing them and then I yelled at @jamaisjoons, having an existential crisis about how hot that was. She is the one who told me to write about it 😌 and the reason the fic exists. The last time I got piercings was idk 16 years ago (yes I was 7 🥴). I also have zero tattoos so my knowledge of this is minimal I just wanted to write hot Taehyung sex. Hope y’all enjoy this mess regardless. beta-read by @taegularities @hantaev & @chateautae​ (she helped with the summary too🤩) my favorite tae accounts who have encouraged me so much during this arduous writing process! beta-read and banner made by @softestmuse! You all were there for me for so much during this whole thing and helped so much 🥺

⋆ my masterlist ⋆

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The Sheets [KTH]

⟶ The Sheets [Taehyung x Female Reader] ⟶ Genre: FWB | Idol Au | Smut ⟶ Warnings: mentions of alcohol, smoking, rough sex, spanking, dirty talk, light choking, oral (f), biting, breast play, the condom is somewhere…, scratching, etc. ⟶ WC: 6.8k+ ⟶ Summary: On your night out with the gals you get hit up by the one and only, Kim Taehyung, who’s been eyeing all of your Instagram stories. It’s no shocker that he attempts to get you back to his place once you finally decide to leave the club because this isn’t your first rodeo with the determined and insanely hot, fuckboy. ⟶ Teaser: ““Move…” his palms grip your waist, “please, Y/n.”” ⟶ Beta: thank you so much to @kookdiaries​ and @jeonjcngkook​ for taking the time to beta! I really appreciate it so much! ⟶ Author’s Note: Yeah, I’m frustrated with Taehyung getting a damn Instagram. Someone please take it away from him. I said what I said. This is a lovely birthday gift (representing in #dailydaegu) in honor of the one, the only, Kim Taehyung! 

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Lonely Hearts Club

➭ “In this world, currency is not money but life, and those who cannot repay their debts have no choice but to submit for the Separation - a procedure in which the soul and mind are extracted from their bodies, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. Jeon Jungkook is an underground tattoo artist hiding from the outside world. She has been waiting her whole life to be Separated. They were never supposed to meet - let alone fall in love.”

- or -

“Two lonely hearts collide.”

pairing: jungkook x OC, (+ some yoongi x OC)

genre: tattoo artist au, angst, smut, dystopian/sci-fi AU

wordcount: 18k

❀ 4 / 8 of my oneshot requests ❀

** warnings: this is v angsty and dark!, named OC, thigh riding, tattooed!jungkook, violence, character death, heavy themes

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ABSTRACT ft BOB ROSS (M) - JJK

Summary: Paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what Jeongguk wants. And what Jeongguk wants, Jeongguk gets.

Genre: smutPWP, timid crack, established relationship

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: jeongguks horny! getting high, body painting, fingering, oral (both receiving), edging, slight subJK, unprotected sex, cockwarming, masturbation (fem), dry humping

A/N: Jeongguk being on his Bob Ross thing to help us through quarantine had me inspired. Fr Bob Ross was a legend. This gets steamy btw

Also pls stay safe everyone and don’t be selfish. Enjoy x

*Masterlist Link*

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this is how you fall in love | jjk

(banner made by me. do not steal or repost. not for personal use. / minors dni.)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader

— genre: rockstar au, established relationship, fluff, smut, light angst

— summary: After years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, Jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

— playlist: listen here <3

— warnings: not-so-linear storytelling, my attempt at writing soft giggly sex 🤭, slight sub!jungkook, big dicc!jungkook, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, brief cockwarming, hint of exhibitionism kink if you quint 👀, mentions of insecurities and anxiety. i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything

— word count: approximately 9.3k (i thought it was gonna be 11-12k at one point lol)

— note: here she is, my first proper oneshot !!! the title is from jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler’s song ‘this is how you fall in love’ lol how creative, but you should listen to it while reading this bc i feel like it sorta adds to the experience. also my first time writing smut lmao bear w me 😫 anyhoo this jk in particular is so special to me i enjoyed writing this so much !! btw it’s not as edited as i would like but oh well lol

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Jungkook commands the attention of every room he walks into; and just like right now, he’s basking in all the attention, all the screams of his name from dozens of girls and boys alike in this packed bar. You knew he was a charmer since you first met him, and you had known from the start that no matter how hard you try to resist, you would succumb to him eventually.

Sometimes, you feel as though he doesn’t belong to you—he can’t possibly, right? Not when people are shouting along to every word falling from his lips and you are… well, you’re just you. He’s destined for the world, for bigger things than just your two-bedroom apartment. Loving him is a privilege, and the thing about privileges is they can be taken away.

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throne of a sinner

pairing : yandere king! jungkook x servant! reader

summary : The people of the palace have been waiting for the king to choose his ideal queen. However, the fact that you approved of this as much as the others perplexed and angered him. So he proved how much he desired you to be his queen; no one would refuse you the throne, right? with your stomach growing with his child.

warnings : yandere themes, explicit smut, non con/dub con, infidelity?, innocent! reader, reader can’t speak due to child trauma, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, impregnation, slight age gap, manipulation, mention of murder and blood, somnophilia, drugging, pregnancy symptoms.

word count : 8k

The sun lowering, heralding the advent of darkness. stealing the light from you, your shaky arms almost giving up from the constant hard work of doing the laundry.  When the sun had softly slipped away, you’d always fasten your work. The night isn’t for you. 

You aren’t terrified of the darkness nor the creepy aura it exudes. When you were a kid, it was always enthralling and comforting to you. The birds noisily chirping, the stars dancing in the sky—it was all beautiful, until it was tarnished. 

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ruin you | kth & jjk (m) | masterpost

It started with a gentle spark and harmless gazes; but by now, you’re caught in a wildfire that will expand until you’re burned inside and out.

➳ pairing: Taehyung x female reader x Jungkook

➳ rating: 18+

➳ genre: established relationship, fwb; fluff, angst, smut

➳ status: completed

➳ playlist 🎶 

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"boyfriend of my dreams" pt. 1

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: college au. pwp. smut. strangers to lovers (or are they?)

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: oc's mean :/ but the bois ~love her. jk's so sweet. protected sex. dirty talk. mentions of alcohol & drugs (a lil weed). fingering.

Author’s note: hi <3 I started this so long ago to celebrate hitting 1k and got to finish it just now and wanted to share it. this was fun, felt like me when I wrote it. thank you for being patient with me during this time and for sending me love even when I'm away - it means more to me than I'll ever be able to express. I hope u enjoy, I'll make sure to pop in and chat w u guys! x

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

pt. 1

You lean your head to the side, smiling mischievously to yourself, absentmindedly drawing the far end of your pen between your lips. Namjoon scores a point – it’s mostly luck, catching his counter partner, and friend, off-guard. The ruckus that unfolds when he does is a tad bit too passionate for a mundane game of ping pong but that’s no obstacle to them, they’ll make a party out of almost anything.

Taehyung jumps on Namjoon’s back right as he breaks out in a celebratory sprint around the ping pong table, emitting laughter from everyone around them. Jin grabs a hold of his face, bringing it closer and planting a loud kiss on his forehead. Even the opposing team is cheering him on.

“Are they drunk?” Sumi asks, narrowing her eyes at them as she gives up on re-reading the same paragraph for the third time, unable to hold an ounce of concentration with the commotion before her.

“It’s 11 A.M.” Sydney types away on her phone, studying far from her intentions as she rides a hangover herself. She’s propped up on one elbow, breaking the circle you’ve formed on the green grass.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Sumi retorts, closing her textbook with more force than needed before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Namjoon is so… buff.” Your eyes don’t leave him, a pout adorning your lips as he chuckles, getting back into position to continue the heated game of ping pong.

“Stop fucking our friends.” Sydney’s tone laces indifference, eyes still glued to her screen. The reflection on her dark sunglasses giving you a perfect view of the obliterating left swipes as she fishes through Tinder. Nobody stands a chance. You laugh.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Sumi asks.

Sydney turns to her and then back to you, head lowering until her icy blue eyes are penetrating yours. “Hoseokie is still freed from your perversions, right?” She pauses and Sumi scoffs. “Right?”

“He came over on Monday to study for that Introduction to Philosophy class we share.” Your sentence is innocent and you try to match it with your tone but it falters, hinting sultry towards the end.

Sydney stays quiet for a second too long before she snickers, nodding slowly to herself, shooting you a “Nice.”

“So that makes all of them.” Sumi ponders, suddenly overwhelmed by the mental math. She’s fighting her own hungover demons.

“That’s Jin on fresher’s night. Jimin last Halloween,” Sydney starts.

“Then she went through her stoner phase and thought she was in love with Taehyung because they would always fuck under the influence,” Sumi adds, condescendingly.

Sydney nods at this. “That gets you a hall pass, ___. Hell, I’m in love with Taehyung. Look at him.”

“Mmhm,” you contemplate, thinking about how even in his hazy state he would pull orgasms out of you like it was easy.

Sumi snaps her fingers repeatedly. “Yoongi after that festival we went to over the summer.”

“And during,” Sydney points a finger her way.

You smile at the memory. It was thrilling, really, breaking the stigma his passive and reserved personality had painted him as. It gets you a little hot and bothered, attention almost fully diverting from what your eyes were originally after.

“Then Joonie last month – at least you guys went on a, you know, actual date.”

Sydney looks over at Sumi, mock endearment on her features. “She tried.”

“I can try harder.” You reach for your bag, fishing its insides for your lip gloss and some watermelon gum. You begin to straighten up as you apply the sticky, shiny product on your pouty lips, tuning into character – flirty and determined.

“Hold up,” Sydney’s voice gets both your and Sumi’s attention, fixed on her all of a sudden. She holds up her phone, removing her sunglasses as her eyes travel from the screen to the direction of the boys that are still in deep their Olympic style ping pong game.

You lean over, Sumi mimicking your movements until Sydney’s got two pairs of curious eyes eyeing her screen alongside her own.

“What? What?” Sumi’s eyesight betrays her, the sun hitting straight on the screen, making it hard to make up the image.

You see it perfectly though – Sydney’s screen flashes a Tinder page, a dark-haired boy smiling brightly back at you. When your eyes follow the line of vision that stands right ahead, that same smile finds you, only this time it’s directed at Namjoon.

You scoff. “It’s a small world. I thought one of the perks of living in a big city was the animosity.”

“Says you Mrs. No-man-left-standing.” Sydney sneers.

Sumi rolls her eyes, snatching the phone from Sydney’s grasp and bringing it close to her face so she can join in the discourse. “Oh,” she says, wincing slightly but awfully casual.

“Oh?” Sydney mimics.

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Who?” Both you and Sydney say at the same time, earning yourselves another eye roll from Sumi.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she begins but the confusion in your faces remain. “He’s a sophomore. We’ve met him- multiple times. Plays soccer? Center back?”

Sydney frowns. “Do I look like that rings a bell?”

“He’s been at almost every party this year.”

“He’s a sophomore why would I give two?” You defend.

“Because the boys have introduced us to him- multiple times. He’s even part of their little gamer cult that meets every Tuesday. He’s pretty much inserted in their group of friends which, by default, makes him part of our group of friends. He’s very nice, actually.”

A dark smile forms on Sydney’s lips. “Well, aren’t you smitten. Maybe if you’d spent less time gathering all of this information, he wouldn’t be on my Tinder feed right now.”

Sumi waves her hand at her dismissively, putting full focus back on her text book.

Sydney shrugs. “I’m swiping right.”

“Cougar.” You tell her.

“It’s a match,” she informs, gaze traveling back to the boy who reaches for his phone as in sync. He looks at the screen for a short second before they’re on Sydney for the split of that. She holds that intimidating, cat-like gaze until she’s got him visibly flustered – eyes glued to the ground, and you can’t see, but have no doubt he’s blushing. You turn to her, eyes narrowed. She shrugs. “He’s only a year younger.”

“He looks like a virgin.”

“I’ll try anything once.” You laugh at this, shooting her a pointer finger in agreement. “Or you want this one, too? Since, you know, apparently he’s a friend.” She turns to Sumi as she says this but the latter is consumed in her studies.

“No, thank you. I look up not down.”

“Is that code word for blowjob?”

You snort, eyes rolling playfully at her. “Interpret it as you wish, my lovely bimbo.”

She smiles at you and you let out a light chuckle before you’re standing up from your comfortable sitting position. You stretch a little, fixing your dangerously short skirt. Spring is here after all and after confining one of your best qualities to jeans for all of winter, it’s time to honor your attributes once again.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” Sydney cheers on.

“Go get him. She’ll take it literal.” Sumi adds and you all break out in laughter.

You make your way to your friends, ping pong game long forgotten after the arrival of Jungkook. They’re all standing around him, ogling him as if he was a puppy almost. Endeared smiles his way as he tells a story. Taehyung even ruffles his hair some. You roll your eyes – if only they were this committed to loving on their one night stands the way they love on their new little friend they wouldn’t be confined to your roster.

Yet perhaps it’s all for the best.

“Namu,” your voice is sweet as his name passes your lips like a little melody.

When Namjoon turns around at your beckoning, six more faces turn to you in perfect unison. You smile and like a domino effect, they return it. All but one.

You might’ve been unaware of his presence right that second – hell, of his name a couple minutes prior even, but Jeon Jungkook knows who you are. He knows all too well. Not by means he would necessarily feel proud to disclose (i.e., his friends being way too vocal about the wonder that is you) but you are very much in his radar. He sees you now, a tender smile on your face that only makes those tempting eyes of yours all that enticing to him. Enticing and confusing, that is. The way you call Namjoon’s name makes him wish, even if for a brief unconscious second, that it was him you were after.

Perhaps he’s giving himself way too much credit.

He’s wanted that, very much consciously, since the first night he met you.

It’s the oldest story in the world and you’d think it would consequently make it predictable; but Jungkook is yet to reap off the benefits of the cliché he walked himself straight into the moment you walked into Yoongi’s apartment that one night.

“Do you guys always throw parties after Game Club?”

“Hm. Depends, really.” Jin walks alongside Jungkook all the way to the kitchen counter, where an unholy amount of liquor lays, uncapped and ready to be responsible for the same amount of sin. Yoongi’s apartment lights shine dim red LED lights, making it all seem very Euphoria-esque. All the parties Jungkook had attended in his short first year of college had been rather trashy – sweaty bodies and frat bros that did highly questionable things after hours. This felt different. The crowd much smaller, the music far cooler and the overall atmosphere much more inviting. “Sometimes it’s just us. Sometimes we have… company, my young one.”

Jungkook follows Jin’s line of vision until they, too, land right on… company. Said company is looking right back at them – well, probably more at Jin than anything. A pretty girl with electric blue hair smiles at Jungkook, a small wave his way before she’s shyly looking down at the floor. Jungkook’s a weak man and the sweetness she exudes shoots right to his heart. And then very much right to his dick. Scratch that – Jungkook was a weak boy.

Jin laughs when he notices his sudden flustered state. “That’s Jieun. A doll, yes. But don’t let the shiny eyes deceive you, she will beat your ass in MapleStory. No mercy.”

For some reason, Jin’s words do zero favours to Jungkook, finding a girl beating his ass in the video game he’s had mastered since he was 12 awfully enticing.

He sounds nervous when he says, “she’s pretty.”

She’s looking at him again, an all too obvious glance down Jin’s direction for reinforcement before they’re glued back on Jungkook – sweet and welcoming but laced with something so incredibly attractive.

“You want her?” Jin’s voice breaks him out of his trance.

“Uh- I mean,” Jungkook doesn’t want to get his hopes up let alone objectify the girl.

“I’m only asking because she wants you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“I-”

Before Jungkook can elaborate on his obvious attraction for her, all eyes and ears redirect back to the front door. Your entrance is not necessarily loud but Sumi’s greeting certainly is – oddly obnoxious and out of character whenever she’s had one too many shots of tequila.

Jin smiles, waving over at you. “What took you so long?” He says this loud enough for you to hear.

You simply smile, slyly and cheeky for reasons Jungkook can’t decipher. Now, he’s not a nosy person but he gets a sudden urge to know. He can’t quite explain it. He also can’t quite explain why his mind is erased blank in that moment – suddenly unaware of where it was only a couple of seconds prior. You draw him in, despite the fact you haven’t all but glanced in his direction – even though he’s right next to Seokjin.

Jimin greets you in a hug and Jungkook doesn’t miss the way his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer until his lips lower to your ear. He says something that makes you smile, biting your lip as you chuckle slightly.

Jungkook thinks that’s it, you’re taken by none other than the person he’s grown the closest to in the group.

Only that’s not it, because in the span of the night he sees you fall into a messy but passionate make out session with Taehyung after an, in his very humble opinion, purposely failed game of suck and blow. You also sit on Yoongi’s lap as he rolls a joint that he shares only with you. Not to mention the way you have special pet names for Hobi and Jin.

A week after that party, you go on a date with Namjoon.

An enigma.

Hot as all hell,

But an enigma nonetheless.

Needless to say, Jungkook finds more entertainment that night in following you with his wonderous gaze than in entertaining sweet-gaze-blue-hair. Even if everything you do just makes you all that more confusing.

But hot. So very hot.

~

“Oh my God, you fuck me so-,” your words hitch right in your throat, a loud moan in replacement that finishes the sentence for you.

Good. He fucks you so good.

“Is that so, babe? You gonna cum for me?” Namjoon’s words hit you like a drop that tips the glass – a metaphor that fits the situation perfectly as your orgasm rips through you in waves of pleasure. You don’t have time to announce it, per say, but he doesn’t need you to say it in order to feel it.

His smirk is cocky and it would do things to you if you could see it. He bends you over further, hand coming to tangle itself in your hair as he pushes your face to the mattress, fucking you harder as he chases his own high.

“Cum for me, Joonie.”

The pet name is sweet but your tone is so filthy and that about does it for him, his tight grip on your hip growing firmer as he spills inside the condom with a soft, “fuck- I’m cumming.”

He pulls out with a hiss and your body falls to his mattress, a sigh leaving your hips as you swim in pure bliss – body almost ecstatic over how good he just made you feel. His hands grab you by the waist, turning you on your back so quickly you barely register it. You yelp and he snickers, positioning himself back between your legs – just how this ordeal all started.

“Fuck, ___. You fuck me like you love me.”

“I don’t,” your words get lost in soft little playful giggles. “That’s why it’s so good.”

He smiles, his brain convincing his body he could go again right then and there. “And that’s why I love you.”

You grab his face, pulling him down for a kiss. His eyes are closed, lips pouty as you say, “as a sexy friend that lets you fuck her brains out?”

His tongue licks at your lips before he bites on his lower one. “As a sexy friend that lets me fuck her brains out.”

“Mm, convince me again.”

“Gladly.”

His brain wins, body more than ready to go. He kisses you, deep right off the bat as your legs wrap around his waist, arm outstretching to reach for one of the condoms you’d tossed on his bed. You break the kiss, eyes on his as you bring the foil package to your lips, opening it with little hassle, hands lowering to his-

“Doorbell.”

“Huh?” You say, confused. Brain still a little foggy from the arousal.

“Someone’s at the door,” he says.

You whine into his mouth, pulling him closer to you. “It’s probably the pizza we ordered when you were trying to court me.”

He lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t court you with pizza.”

He frees himself from your hold, a soft peck to your forehead before he’s reaching for his sweatpants, throwing them on before passing you one of his oversized hoodies.

“Why? I like pizza…” You’re all but left alone with your thoughts as he leaves his room, well on his way to the front door already.

Namjoon is feeling rather chirpy. In a good mood that doubles as bliss – fucked silly, if you will. His steps pick up as he gets closer to the door, overly enthusiastic as he twists the doorknob ready for-

“Jungkookie.”

“Pizza,” he says, pushing the green and red striped box in his direction.

“You work for Papa John’s?”

Jungkook frowns. “No. The delivery guy just left it on the floor… I thought I’d pick it up.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah. Thanks, bud. What are you doing here?”

Another frown from the youngest, confused at finding Namjoon so disoriented. “You told me I could come… for those anatomy books, remember?”

Namjoon doesn’t remember and it’s rather obvious by the frown on his face. Right that second, in glorious sync, Jungkook makes out the reason why.

“Pizza!”

You come out of his room, in nothing but an oversized hoodie he’s seen on his friend many times before – nothing but the oversized hoodie he’s seen on his friend many times before. Your hair’s messy, mascara smudged around your glassy eyes and even from afar, Jungkook can make out the crimson traces of a love bite adorning your neck.

“Of course, I remember, Jungkookie. Come in, come in. I’ll get them for you.”

You smile, more at the pizza than at him – eyes fixed on the box he’s still holding.

“Uh- thanks, hyung.”

“No worries- oh, you’ve met ___, right?”

His gaze travels down, the patterns on the pizza box suddenly holding his focus fully. “Y-yeah.”

Namjoon walks back to his room to, presumably, grab those anatomy books that got Jungkook walking right into this situation. You walk over to him, eyeing him absentmindedly before you open the pizza box he’s holding, grabbing a cheesy piece for yourself before taking a big bite.

You moan.

You moan and Jungkook has no choice but to follow his animalistic instincts and look up at you, big round eyes searching for yours that are shut as you feast on a piece of pizza that can’t certainly be that good. When you open your eyes, Jungkook wants to look away. He even tries, but it’s to no avail, way too hypnotized by your close proximity.

“You want some?” You ask, shoving the slice in his direction.

He gawks at you before he reminds himself, pizza – you’re offering him pizza.

“N-no… thank you, though.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, brain zeroing in on a thought. “You’re Sydney’s little tinder conquest.”

Jungkook does not know what to say. Nothing comes to him – not a quirky remark, not a simple answer. Nothing. All he can do is stare at you, eyes traveling down for a split second as you sit on the edge of the couch, the hem of the hoodie hiking up your thighs, exposing way too much skin for him to keep his inner dialogue from producing a loud scratching sound and just absolutely rewinding. He stays quiet.

“You are! Hm… cute.” You say, and he can’t quite make out if you’re being honest or downright condescending. He hates to admit it but either way, it’s turning him on. “When are you guys going on a date? Oooh, take her to the movies! She likes indie films, believe it or not. Her favorite food is sushi and she does not like long walks on the beach.” You say with a proud smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him in a suggestive matter.

He stays silent yet again and you simply shrug, taking another bite from your pizza as Namjoon finally comes out from his room, a stack of books in his hands.

“Here you go, Kook. This class’ a bitch, don’t know why’d you pick it as an elective. If you need help studying let me know.”

“Thank you, Joon. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow at Tae and Jimin’s?”

“Yep.” He says, eyes making too big of an effort to avoid you and you can tell, which makes you smile. Sydney’s gonna have a blast with this one, always down for a lil subby.

Jungkook turns around, thanking his angels that interaction is about done. He struggles for a minute with the doorknob, hands full of books and a tremor to them that don’t necessarily help his case. You chuckle and he can hear it, the little balance he had on the heavy hardbacks faltering before they finally fall to their tragic fate, hitting the floor with a hard thump. He curses the same angels.

Namjoon comes to his rescue, reaching for the books as he tells him, “Let me get that for you.”

Jungkook grabs them, securing them in his hold once again before giving his friend a genuine smile before uttering a, “thanks.”

He leaves the apartment with a haste that emits another chuckle from you.

He hears it again.

Thankfully, he’s far from earshot when you say,

“He’s kinda weird.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes at you, closing the door after him. “He’s just introverted. A term you’re not familiar with.”

You give him a mindless shrug. “Cute.”

You mean it – condescendingly, that is.

~

Taehyung and Jimin are a dynamic duo. They’re also roommates and not afraid to fall into the pleasures a night of excess might ensue. That’s exactly why them hosting parties is a once in a full moon event – no, really. They follow the zodiac calendar religiously, making sure that whenever the moon ends a cycle, they’re ending the night with a crowd of partygoers that are not only drunk on liquor but all sorts of indulgences.

Little is off limits during Tae and Jimin’s full moon parties and, logically, it’s your favorite night of the month. It’s become quite poetical, really. Also, an excellent way for them to get laid, because, what’s more romantic than the Moon and a night that sort of revolves around it? Men that know their moon cycles, that is.

So, once a month, when the Moon is nice and plump, you and yours get extra done up and double the excess. It’s an iconic practice and you will it admit, it’s seen some of your best nights in college.

You make your way to your front door, stopping briefly by the mirror, giving yourself a double take. It’s a combination of the skin tight baby blue dress paired with the oversized leather jacket and Sumi’s surprisingly nasty playlist that has you feeling yourself. Eyes smoked out with enough black shadow to have you dreading the process of taking it off later.

“You look like Mick Jagger just had its way with you.” Sydney has never been one to enter any sort of situation casually.

“That made me a little horny.” You say, returning the smile that forms on her lips at your words.

“Great. Let’s make it worst with tequila,” she holds the bottle towards you, half full with clear liquid dancing around the thick glass.

“It’s like you guys want me to make bad decisions tonight.” Sumi says, one half of her hair curled and the other flat as she rests a hand on her hip dismissively.

“That’s when you’re even more fun, Sumi.” Sydney says, glossy lips smacking against her cheek.

“Ew.”

“See? You wouldn’t reject my affection after one shot of tequila.”

She smiles. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You clap. “That’s my girl.”

Sydney moves swiftly around your apartment, a natural in the kitchen – when it comes to a perfect tequila shot ensemble, that is. She displays it like she would a charcuterie board; a row of limes lined in perfect crescent moon shapes and little mountains of salt to ease the kick. She comes out from behind the counter, plate in hand and fingers tightly gripping to the neck of the tequila bottle. Her walk is flirty, steps skipping some as excitement is perfectly reflected on her face and the little giggles she lets out as she kneels in front of your coffee table.

The tall shot glasses you’d retrieved await the assault as you three work in perfect sync – lime juice coating the rim promptly before you’re dipping it in salt, the clear liquid following. Your eyes widen as some spills, dripping down your hand as Sydney snickers. Sumi complains about her glass being too full.

“Glass half full, not half empty, Sumi.” Sydney sneers.

She simply rolls her eyes, not putting too much of a fight as she raises her glass to join the toast circle you’ve started.

“What to?”

“Whatever we want.” Sydney’s tone is determined and she doesn’t really give you both time to object before she’s clinking her glass to yours, tongue licking around the rim before she’s downing the shot.

You shrug, not unhappy about it one bit as you mimic her movements. Sumi lets out a breathy laugh, pleased as she does the same.

“Who’s on your mind, ___?” Sumi asks, wincing at the burn before she soothes it by biting on the lime.

“No one in particular… you know I like spontaneity.”

“Wasn’t Joonie inside of you like- this morning?” Sydney adds.

“What does that have to do with anything?” You reply, genuinely confused as your friends look at each other, laugh erupting from both of them. “Hey.”

“I want Eunwoo,” Sumi says, tucking her face between her hands, letting out a dreamy sigh.

Sydney snaps her fingers, giving her a thumbs up. “Should I go after Tinder boy,” she ponders for a bit, “What’s his name again?”

“Oh my God, Sydney.” Sumi huffs. “Jungkook.”

“Jungkook!”

“They call him Jungkookie,” you tease, remembering your little encounter with him yesterday at Namjoon’s.

“Aw. That’s almost virginal.” She says, mocking endearment.

You laugh and Sumi throws you a nasty look. “You guys are awful. He seems like an actually nice guy.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sydney says in between chuckles.

“You know, not like his troglodyte friends that bolt at the first insinuation of commitment.” Sumi says. “He gives me like… boyfriend of my dreams vibes, you know?”

Both you and Sydney stare at her, half amused, half baffled. Confused but so very entertained at her train of thought. Your eyes remain on her for a couple more seconds before you’re both breaking out in laughter, eyes squinting shut as you throw your heads back, clapping for emphasis. You can’t see or hear the way Sumi scolds the two of you for being so insensitive.

“Well,” Sydney says, attempting to collect herself. “He can be someone else’s boyfriend of my dreams. I’ll be like, a send-off present before he finds the girlfriend of his dreams.”

You high five her, encouraging her funny remarks. “See, Sumi? Isn’t that nice of Syd?”

Sumi stares at you both, shaking her head before she rolls her eyes and downs another shot.

~

You wish you were more of a romantic. You wish you could come up with a million or so pretty words to describe the way life feels in moments like these. You wish there was a better way to phrase what it feels like to be standing in a room full of familiar faces, friendly faces, new faces – beautiful faces. Bodies coming together in sync with the beat of the music. Boys kissing girls, girls kissing boys and kissing girls, too. Boys kissing boys, not an ounce of love and lust suppressed. Just the pure inertia of the moment and a mix of a couple other things that make you even more susceptible to the world around you.

Your eyes close, softly and in what feels like slow motion, as you let yourself be consumed with the feeling, this moment, the heat the bodies around you radiate. A smile forms on your face and something tells you it’ll linger for the rest of the night.

Said smile grows tenfold when your eyes open and your gaze meets Yoongi’s. Joint sitting lazily between his lips, ginger hair tussled and eyes red. He raises a brow at you and your demeanour changes in a matter of seconds – eyelids feeling heavy all of a sudden, your smile turning into a smirk. He returns it – a lopsided grin adorning his features before he takes the joint from his lips, putting it in between yours. You lean forward a little bit, looking into his eyes as he winds the lighter a couple of times before both your eyes land in the flame between you.

The smoke feels dense as it passes through your lips, down your throat and out again in a rhythmic pattern. You feel it right away, that mellow haziness that settles through you. He takes a hit, too, unconsciously taking a step forward. Your hand brushes his and he entwines your fingers, almost instinctively. There’s no rush to Yoongi ever, and he touches just like that.

He fucks like that, too.

“Yoongi…” your voice is airy, but he can hear your thoughts just by the way your lips move.

“Hmm?” His voice is hoarse, cat eyes piercing into yours – not losing eye contact, not even as a cloud of smoke passes his lips.

“I want you.”

You’d be less brass about it but it’s not like those words haven’t left your mouth before – in much more compromising circumstances, even.

He smiles, nodding. One last hit before he’s killing the joint. “Me too.”

“Let’s go.”

“You’re faded, baby. Let’s wait a little.”

He gets closer to you, the hand that’s still locked around yours coming to your lower back, his other sitting at your waist.

“Okay,” you say and your voice is but a whisper, sending shivers down his spine as your lips sit right beside his ear.

“Want some water?” He asks you.

You shake your head. “No, I’ll just go wind down a little. Wait for me here.”

“I will.” And when he says this, his lips are mere inches away from yours, sending your mind into a frenzy, making you feel ten times more drunk. And ten times more high.

You squeeze yourself between the dancing bodies, smiling and knowing eyes as you pass Sumi, arms around Eunwoo’s neck as they kiss. You want to touch and be touched just like that.

You up your pace, making your way to the kitchen, heading straight towards the fridge and snatching a bottle of blue Gatorade that you know Jimin and Tae keep as after party favours – and to ease the diabolical hangovers that usually result as consequences to these parties. You take a sip and a deep breath before you walk towards their laundry room, opening the door and closing it behind you as you’re suddenly engulfed in darkness so dense it immediately relaxes you. The music from outside the tiny space is muffled but you still feel your ears ringing from the base.

You light the flash on your phone, quickly making up your surroundings. There’s a washing machine that makes up the far end corner of the room, a snug fit between the walls. You take two steps and in one swift motion you’re sitting on top of it, feet briefly hitting a small shelf that holds detergent and baskets. Mildly claustrophobic yet peaceful, semi-quiet and dark.

You’ll be sober in fifteen minutes max.

~

Jungkook has never felt more sober in his life.

In an almost parallel universe to yours, he finds himself amidst the crowd, not a place in his body left untouched as he takes a step back, body coming into contact with Jin’s, who’s far too busy with a touch of his own to even acknowledge him when he apologizes.

“Sorry for what?” The words lace themselves with a soft giggle, her hands squeezing a little at his chest before they’re traveling upwards and snaking around his neck.

Lola takes a step forward, closing the previous distance Jungkook had put between them and she wastes no time, eyes closing before her lips are grazing his, a soft gust of air passing her mouth in lust. It turns him on and he feels himself letting go a little – his hands at her hips, slowly moving upwards until they rest at her waist, pulling her closer. She giggles again and it pisses him off so he kisses her.

Just like a couple of minutes prior, it’s sloppy. Her tongue diving straight in for his, soft whines passing her mouth as she puts her hands on top of his, quickly moving them downwards again, passed her hips until she’s closing them around the flesh of her ass. Her skirt rides up and Jungkook can feel her skin at his fingertips. He grabs the hem of her skirt, pulling it down before his hands are back at her hip.

“No,” her words get muffled in-between a whisper and a moan. “Touch me, please.”

Her hand rides up his shirt, nails scraping down the tout muscles of his abdomen. It does nothing to Jungkook – his dick merely reacting by instinct, but his mind is elsewhere and he wants to get out of here.

He chuckles, trying his best to ease the blow for her. “I’m feeling super drunk.”

That’s a lie.

Her hands don’t stop, continuing their little journey, fingertips inches away from the waistband of his jeans.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He says, his hands wrapping around hers and gently taking them off of his body.

She rolls her eyes, uttering a snarky, ‘whatever’ before she’s storming off.

He feels dizzy all of a sudden – the neon lights coming at him quickly, the music too loud, air too stuffed.

He finds his way out of the crowd, slightly dazed and looking for silence.

~

You’re giggling absentmindedly at your phone as you scroll through twitter. It’s been well over fifteen minutes but you’ve found comfort in your sober state and the tranquillity the small space has provided. You haven’t let go of your goal for the night, still very much feeling that sense of want even after the buzz from the alcohol and the weed wore off. But like you said, Yoongi’s never in a rush and the night is still young.

Glancing at the left-hand corner of your phone, the time reads 2:37. He can wait, you decide, as you go back to a thread titled funny pets. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling, until…

Jungkook opens the door gently, stepping inside the space without a second thought. He’d noticed it as soon as he’d stepped foot inside the kitchen, curious as to where it led, knowing it wasn’t a bathroom or one of the two bedrooms he knew well. Silence engulfs him and he relaxes immediately, letting his shoulders drop – the tension leaving his body.

It’s short-lived, though – a bright light shining onto his face as soon as he turns around.

“Who are you?”

He recognizes your voice, body tensing all over again and eyes widening in shock. He can’t see you, the bright light blinding him and he puts a hand right in front of it, eyes squinting in pain.

“Uh…-” He begins, and it’s a mixture of that nervous stutter and your eyes finally accommodating on his face that gives it away.

“Oh. It’s… you.” You say, voice faltering slightly as you very obviously struggle at remembering his name.

He looks down at the floor, though he can’t see much as you turn the flashlight off and all that illuminates the room is a cat picture that displays on your screen.

“Jungkook.” He says, voice so faint he physically feels all the confidence he’s spent his entire life garnering evaporate right out of him.

“Yeah,” you say, uninterested but he’s not surprised. “What are you doing here?” You ponder. But before he can answer, your mind goes elsewhere. “Did Yoongi send you looking for me?”

“Yoongi- no. He didn’t.”

“Then?”

Your tone is harsh, bordering on mean – or maybe he’s a cry baby that would very much like for you to say his name the way you say Yoongi’s. Or any of his friends’ for that matter. But beyond his personal desires, he doesn’t understand it.

“Uh… I just needed a breather.”

“And your first option is the shoe box laundry room?”

Mean, again. He wishes he had the power in him to give you a snarky comment back. But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t know it was a shoe box… laundry room.” He says, growing nervous as he hears the way you let out a quiet sigh mid-sentence.

“Well, two’s a crowd.”

He’s about to apologize (for what, he doesn’t know), before you’re nearly plunging yourself from your seating position on the washing machine. You must’ve calculated wrong because you end up not so very gracefully landing on the floor – not only stepping on his foot, but also colliding with Jungkook’s body. The space is tight; too tight, and the impact of your body on his send him tumbling backwards until his back hits the door with a thud – his head following, and then, of course, you. He’d held onto your waist as an instinct, a futile attempt to steady you. You tumble forwards, hands on his shoulders and totally off balance.

You look up, grunting a little and cursing under your breath and though you can’t see much, you can make up the way he winces in pain, eyes tightly shut from banging his head against the door like that.

“Are you okay?” Your question comes off as abrupt – volume too loud for Jungkook and his aching head.

“Huh?”

“Ugh.”

You can’t explain it.

You can’t explain why he exasperates you to the point of rudeness – which, promise, you are not. He stutters his words and can’t hold eye contact and talks with a damn lisp the more you pressure him into keeping a conversation flowing. He seems spaced out all the time and even though it was your clumsiness that landed you in this position, you blame him.

You also can’t seem to explain why you can’t push yourself away from him. Or how your hands inched closer to his chest, index finger hooked inside his shirt, right over his collarbone. It makes the whole situation even more exasperating.

You squint, trying to make up his features – observing him. His eyes open suddenly, catching you in the act almost and you roll yours, narrowing them at him and that’s when you lose his gaze as he turns his face to the side. His skin feels hot under your fingertip and you can’t see it but you know he’s blushing.

Ugh.

Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.

Ugh!

“Ugh.” You say again, straightening your body and pulling Jungkook up with you. But despite this, you don’t break the proximity – your bodies still flush to one another. Your movements make him look up at you again and when he does, you ask again, “Are you okay?” only this time you space out your words, bluntly pausing so he understands. It’s condescending.

(And hot.)

“Yeah.”

His response barely passes his lips before you’re pressing yours against them. Hard but then soft all of a sudden as you swallow a soft gasp of his, the way his chest flutters over yours hitting you straight in the stomach – a tingle almost. A feeling you wouldn’t dare call butterflies because you are not twelve, or sixteen. Or dumb, for that matter.

Jungkook’s head spins and he feels dizzy, swearing to himself he must have a concussion because there’s no way in hell you’re kissing him right now. Him. You. Your hand snakes around his neck, nails scraping softly, contrasting with the way your mouth moves against his. His hands are on your waist but he can’t seem to move them, his brain wanting nothing more than to squeeze and bring you closer, spin you around until he can press himself impossibly tight to you.

His lips give in first, mouth opening for you as your tongue glides against the plump flesh. Your tongue slides right in, sensual and slow yet filled with need. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt anyone kiss him like that before, like you’re saying more than words could ever do justice. In complete sync with your body as your hands travel upwards, tangling themselves in his locks of raven hair. He tries his best to mimic your actions, to kiss you as so you can tell that he wants this, too. He wants you – so fucking much.

You so badly want to be bored out of your mind – uninterested. To feel unsatiated with his gentle touches. With the way you can feel his thumb circling over your waist softly, and his tongue dancing with yours slowly. You wish you could say you fed your curiosity with a kiss but when he pulls away, lips forming a pout so as to make it last longer, you want more.

His eyelids flutter dreamily, heavy with something that doubles as lust but hints to something else you can’t quite put your finger on. All you know is that they move in sync with yours and it takes you about a second to give into your impulses.

Your fist closes around the soft material of his black long-sleeved shirt – it’s oversized and makes him look so boy. He’s taken aback but follows, ever so compliant, still feeling like he’s stuck in some sort of fever dream – slightly concerned, still in the concussion theory. But you’re very much real and it takes you all but two steps backwards until your back is hitting the washing machine again and you’re pushing yourself upwards, sitting back on – right where he found you.

Your legs part, tight dress hiking up but you don’t seem to care as you pull him to you once again and he falls perfectly into that space you’ve nuzzled for him in-between your thighs. His hands grip the corners of the washing machine, trying to find balance as you take him off-guard. A soft little whine passes your lips as you wrap your legs around his waist and if the head bang didn’t get him dizzy enough, this for sure did.

“You can- touch me. Please.” You don’t part your lips as the words leave you and it drives him crazy – your breath on his and the way you nod when he nods, almost eagerly.

His hands rest on your legs, a feathery touch at first but it immediately sends a wave of goosebumps traveling down your skin in a perfect domino effect. He squeezes lightly, sighing softly against your lips at the feel of your skin. His sigh turns into a hiss as your teeth close around his bottom lip, pulling backwards and letting go, not letting him catch his breath before your mouth is back on his.

He loves it. He loves your boldness that doesn’t feel aggressive. He loves the way you want him and the way you showed him, right after rolling your eyes at him. Not any less of an enigma just because his tongue was on yours, you still confused him. But he was too focused on the other things you made him feel right this second and so the thought left him.

You can feel the effect you’re starting to have on him – he kisses you with more hunger, touches you with more need, the fear fading away the more you show yourself receptive. Which you are, inevitably so, receptive to him. To the physicality of the actions you’re engaging in and to the way he sounds, and smells, and feels. It’s all overpowering your every sense and when you realize you’re not only free falling into indulgence but also doing it whilst sober, you stop dead in your tracks.

Jungkook follows right behind you, stopping too. He looks at you, half his face illuminated and the other embraced by the darkness that surrounds you. You want to see him, but not being able to makes you feel more comfortable. You don’t want him to see you, but you know he is – you can tell by the way his gaze grows soft, eyebrows falling into his face slightly and head cocking to the side a bit. He sighs and your skin feels hot, but it’s not really out of horniness or lust.

He’s about to speak, his eyes looking apologetic and you don’t think you can deal with his softness when he’s putting it in words right now, so you kiss him. You kiss him hard and you kiss him good and when your hands land on top of his, you encourage him to explore further. Someone had taken that sort of lead on him today as well, yet the way you do it does things to him that could never compare to anything he’s felt before.

Your legs lose the grip they had around his waist, instinctively parting as you lean back slightly. Breaking off the kiss, you draw your lips in-between your lips and this time when you stare, you’re back to minx. His hand inches closer to your inner thigh and he’s acting purely by instinct. Now, he’s not unfamiliar with a woman’s body, but the way you’re looking at him right now makes him feel like he’s back to square 0.

“Is this okay?” He asks, taking you by surprise.

A part of you wants to reciprocate his gentleness but you don’t allow it to show. Instead, your gaze grows lusty as you say, “You haven’t done anything for me to judge your performance, so I guess I don’t know.”

If Jungkook were to be brutally honest, he has no idea what you mean by that, but he goes with the way your hips move closer to his hand, legs parting further – eyebrow raising at him, almost tempting him to play. When his knuckle grazes right over your clit through your lacy panties, you mewl – hips circling and body jolting in anticipation.

You’re so fucking hot he has to lock his lips with yours, eyes closed to ground himself and step back into this moment because you’re making it really hard for him right now. Emphasis on the hard. You kiss him back – mouth parting when his fingers move on you. Index and middle finger circling around your entrance over your panties, then slowly teasing with feathery touches until they reach your clit, applying more pressure the more erratic your breathing gets.

“Don’t tease.” Your attempt at keeping your tone collected is laughable but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, quickly complying to your needs as his fingers hook inside the side of your panties, parting your plump folds and letting himself bask in your heat.

A moan escapes his mouth as he says, “you’re so wet.” And though his voice is shy, his touches are anything but.

“Yeah?” You ask and he nods against your mouth. “Fix it, then.”

His thumb circles your clit, swollen and pulsing even though he’s just got his hands on you seconds before. He draws figure eights against the bundle of nerves and your head draws back, face scrunched up in pleasure as soft moans escape your lips. He can tell you’re trying to control yourself and there’s something about it that doesn’t sit quite right with him. His middle and ring finger tease at your entrance for about a second and you’re dripping – wet enough for him to push two fingers inside of you. It’s skilful and immediate, the way his fingers arch, finding that spot right away – taking you so aback your legs close around his hand.

“Oh,” and when the rest of your words get caught up in your throat as a whine replaces them, his movements slow. “Keep going- like that.” You encourage and he resumes his previous pace.

Your cunt is snug around his fingers, slick juices dripping down his hand and he’s so deep he can feel them running down his wrist. Every time he hits that spot inside of you, your breath hitches in your throat, voice too frail to praise and perhaps ego, too. But your body is so telling, there’s no doubt in him he’s doing a good job. His fingers pull out of you, a lewd sound filling the room as he circles them against your clit – your wetness aiding to the feeling and allowing him to be fast, hand moving with quick precision.

“Fuck- fuck. That feels so good.”

His head drops to your shoulder, pace never faltering, fingers gliding down at your entrance, relishing in the way your little pussy clenches around nothing – already missing the fullness his digits provided. Your cheek comes flush with his, lips grazing his ear as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly. He’s moaning as if you were reciprocating his ministrations – raspy voice taking on a breathy feeling to it, hitting right against your neck.

You grab his face, making him look at you before you’re crashing your lips onto his, pulling back for a second, eyes closing as you feel your tummy contract at the feeling he’s providing.

“Fuck me with your fingers- please. Please, Jungkook.”

It’s the way you say his name, removing all sense from him and leaving him wild. A throaty moan passing his chest, leaving his mouth before he’s bringing his hand closer to his mouth, spitting on it in an obscene way that only sends you further into your impending doom. You almost don’t want it to stop – you’d let him finger fuck you inside this laundry room forever if you could. It feels that good.

His fingers dive back inside of you and you can feel the way he’s purposely stretching you, scissoring motions hitting unfamiliar spots, making you throw your head back in pleasure. He adds a third finger and it takes you aback, sending you right onto the edge much closer than you’d expected.

“Oh my- fucking God. I’m so close.”

“Yeah?”

His question is rhetorical, bordering on cocky and it makes the moment ten times more devastatingly sexy.

Jeon Jungkook is devastatingly sexy.

Jeon Jungkook with the stutters and the lisp and the ability to draw every ounce of patience out of you.

Jeon Jungkook is about to make you,

“Cum. I’m gonna cum.”

He goes deeper, harder – almost as if he’d saved the best for last as the push and pull of his fingers send flutters down your lower tummy before they turn into a whole explosion as the moan that’s sitting at the tip of your tongue comes out as a scream.

You cum around his fingers for what feels like way more seconds than you’d ever cum before. Thighs closing around his forearm, body shaking and glistening in sweat. Your juices so slick it begins to feel uncomfortable as you start coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Holy- shit. What the fuck.”

Jungkook just stares at you – fully taken aback by probably one of the hottest things he’s ever seen in his entire life. All at his expense.

You’re spent. Knees trembling and hands a bit shaky and clammy as you remove your jacket and grab your forgotten bottle of Gatorade to try to restore the hydration in your body. You feel the way he gently fixes your panties, covering you up. It makes your heart seize inside your chest and you don’t only feel sober but also aware. Very aware. More aware than you’ve probably felt in your life, though you can’t quite put a finger on it.

Whatever it is, you push it to the side.

With dangerously trembling legs, you jump from where you sit on the washing machine, taking Jungkook aback as he takes a step backwards. Grabbing your phone, you turn to him, smiling – your eyes back to unreadable, nonchalant.

“That was good.” You say, almost as if you were referring to anything but the fact that he just fingered you inside a shoe box sized laundry room despite barely having exchanged any words and being pretty sure you hated him. He’s painfully hard and can’t think straight so when he doesn’t respond you give him a tight-lipped smile, lazily waving your hand at him before you say, “bye!”

And just like that, you’re gone.

Scratch that, he is pretty sure you hate him.

So, what the fuck just happened?

~

let me know if u enjoyed and if you'd like to be added to the taglist. I dont think it'll have too many parts but it's fun to write <33 I love u guys sm! xx

Please Love Me (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, childhood friends, CEO kids; angst, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: seemingly controlling parents but not really, sexism, alochol consumption, foul language, sexual content (fingering, hand job, making out, breast play, straddling, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex) (18+) - specific warnings will be written on applicable chapters

Word count: 64,350 (main story + follow-up)

Series summary: As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

A/N: This story is growing so I decided to put up a masterlist! Thank you so much for still going back to read this; they’re truly one of my favorite couples. 🥰🥰 @jeonwiixard also made a moodboard for this some time ago; do check it out! 🙂

Main story + Follow Up

Part 01 (wc: 13k)

Part 02 (wc: 16.6k)

Part 03 (wc: 18.3k)

The Honeymoon (16.3k)

Drabbles

Seeing an old fling. Again.

ruin you | kth & jjk (m) | masterpost

It started with a gentle spark and harmless gazes; but by now, you’re caught in a wildfire that will expand until you’re burned inside and out.

➳ pairing: Taehyung x female reader x Jungkook

➳ rating: 18+

➳ genre: established relationship, fwb; fluff, angst, smut

➳ status: completed

➳ playlist 🎶 

Keep reading

almost sweet (kth)

pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

genre(s): pwp, smut, some fluff

au: slice of life, bdsm, established relationship

word count: 5k

summary: life has felt like too much lately. your boyfriend agrees to give you a night of pleasure with a touch of pain.

trigger/smut warnings:  dom!tae, tae has a big dick, degradation (uses of 'whore' and 'slut'), mocking, ass slapping, pussy slapping, creampie, oral (m), rough throat fuck, rough fingering, squirting, silk ties and a ball gag are used, he makes her clean up after herself, rough sex, hair pulling, lots of spit, unprotected sex (wrap it up please!! and be careful!!), tears, hints that he's broken skin, praise, aftercare, strawberries, both of them are deeply in love with each other, and everything is consensual

rating: 18+

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely @rkivian for making this AMAZING banner!! i have never written a pwp before and a special thank you goes out to the absolutely astounding @taegularities for brainstorming with me, taking the time to beta, and allowing me to run ideas past her!!

tag list: @moonchild1 please like, reblog, comment, send an ask if you read this and enjoy it!! let me know if you would like to added to my tag list 💖 © sugalaritae, 2022. you do not have any permission to repost or translate my work even if you give credit. all of this is mine.

It’s a soft clink that hits your ears first.

You know that sound. You’ve heard it in your bedroom countless times throughout the days you’ve shared and sometimes in the middle of the night. It is one of those sounds that you pay no attention to in any other instance, but as it pushes through the bedroom and reverberates in your ears, you know that he has set down a ceramic dish against the small glass table top that sits atop your brushed gold bedside table.

Your eyes twitch against the silk material that is blindfolding you.

He’s been gone for a few minutes and now he’s returned with something. It has to be a dish, but what is in it? Your mind begins the race of possibilities of what could be in there. Food? Something that he could eat off of you? Ice cubes? Every nerve in your body remembers the last time that he brought ice cubes into your bedroom, and your pussy clenches at the memory of the frozen rock pushed against and then into your entrance.

Could it be something for after? A treat for you?

Curiosity gets the best of you and your tongue moves in your mouth as your brain sends the signal to ask the question, but the words are only pushed silently against the ball gag that holds your mouth open. You always marvel at how your body acclimates to these restraints, but just as quickly as you get used to the gag, your muscles begin to ache.

“You look so pretty.” His words crush the silence that has slipped over you and the room and a shiver of surprise rushes up your spine.

You want him to touch you. Your body has relaxed against the bed even in the restraints that he put around your wrists and ankles several minutes earlier. This is the part that always drives you crazy - the waiting. The two of you have discussed how long is too long and came to a compromise. The waiting proves to be worse when you know that he’s in the room with you.

You can hear his breathing, it’s soft and slightly labored. A moan runs through your throat and crashes against the gag where it is joined by your built up saliva, and together they squeeze out around the gag at the corners of your mouth. Your eyes close tight as you feel your drool slip down your chin and your neck.

His chuckle is deep, and behind the darkness, you picture it coming from the bottom of his chest.

“How are you doing, baby?” he asks, fully knowing that you will not be able to answer.

Prick.

You push sound against the gag and oh! You want to see his face. You want to see that cruel smirk that you know he will have. It’s silent for a moment and you think you can hear him moving, but you’re unsure. Waves of darkness crash behind your closed lids and you start to feel a little lost at sea.

Until, his voice pulls you back to the shore.

He’s close. So incredibly close. You can feel his breath against your neck as he asks, “Sorry?” Such a simple word and yet he’s coated it in lust, tenderness, and mockery.

You feel the mattress give under his weight as he rests a knee next to your chest.

“Do you want this out?” he asks as his slender fingers trace where the strap and your cheek meet, making you jump at the surprise touch. “If I take this off, you’re not allowed to swear at me, okay baby?”

You nod. He knows you too well. Knows that you can get frustrated when you have too much restraint and he’s left you for far too long. Your jaw aches and he should know, he’s had this same gag stuffed into his mouth before.

Carefully he lifts your head. Every touch is a wonderful surprise and a small tickle starts in your neck where his fingers have connected with your skin, traveling down to the base of your spine, and you lift your hips just a little. He smirks at this small action. Watching you react to his touches when you’re blindfolded is one of his favorite things to witness.

His body reacts differently; yours is so sensitive and he wonders what it must be like to live in a body like yours. Each touch, each kiss, elicits a reaction and while he knows he will never know what exactly it feels like, he is thankful he is the one that gets to witness it.

He slips the piece of soft leather out of the clasp and, oh so carefully, pulls the gag away from your mouth. He sets it down on the table beside the bed and it isn’t until you hear the soft sound of the metal clasp hitting the wood that you let out the breath you’ve been holding. He chuckles and wipes the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. You can feel his nail against your lip just for a moment before he pulls his touch away.

“I was going to fuck this beautiful mouth of yours, but I think I’ll give you a break, yeah baby?” he informs and you can hear the smirk that he is wearing.

You’re silent as you open and close your mouth a few times to try and get used to the freedom your jaw now enjoys.

“Answer me,” he growls, low.

“If you fuck my mouth, I need to see you,” you counter, your voice is raspy and the pitch is low as you feel the rush of spit flow down your throat.

This answer pulls another low chuckle from deep within him which sends another shiver down your spine and this time you feel your excitement pool against your lips.

“Maybe later then. I have things I want to do that you’re not allowed to see,” he whispers, making your head shift a little with another bolt of surprise. When did he get so close?

The bed shifts suddenly and his weight is gone from beside you. You want to touch him, your whole body needs touch. You’ve been tied up, gagged, and blindfolded for too long. You need attention and you are sure that if he continues any longer, you’re going to throw a fit. Still, you stay silent despite the tears that have started to build in the corners of your eyes. It’s been so long since you’ve been this desperate.

He’s been so good to you lately, loving you tenderly and sweetly. You were the one that brought up a night like this, the length of time it had been since you had been in the submissive position. Life has been too much for you and you’ve wanted to lose control just a little, but this feels like your skin is tingling, and as you think about it longer, your legs shake a little.

“What color are you at, baby?” he asks from near your feet.

“Green,” you answer and then quickly follow it with a hiss, “but if you don’t touch me soon, I’m going to be at yellow.”

His tongue pulls against the top of his mouth in a tsk sound and then his palm connects with your thigh.

“I told you that you’re not allowed to swear at me if the gag came out.” He’s standing over you and your leg stings where he slapped you, but it was a connection and your whole body is screaming for more.

You lift your head off the pillow and shoot him a glare that shows in your mouth forming a straight line; this makes him laugh outright. His laughter fills the room and then suddenly his fingers connect with your clit in a hard slap and your lips part in a whimper.

“Is that the kind of touch you want? Because I can give you more,” he’s watching you carefully, watching you tied to the bed like this pulls his stomach muscles together as his erection grows.

“Anything,” you whisper, the slap radiating through your sex. “I just want to be touched by you.”

“Then you need to be good,” he responds and finally, finally you feel his fingers trace the place where he slapped you on your thigh.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this, baby. Tied up, desperate for my touch,” his voice is low and while you can’t see him, you know what he looks like when he's taken with you. Eyes dark, brow heavy, jaw clenched. He always looks so incredibly sexy when he’s about to fuck you.

You wiggle in the restraints. The silk wrapped around your ankles feels soft but annoying if you think about it too much. This is what you’ve wanted though. This feeling of being out of control. You have wanted your whole week to completely disappear under his touch and under the restraints.

You don’t feel any weight pressed against the bed and your brain tries to figure out where he is and what he is doing when you feel his fingers in the patch of hair right above your cunt. You gasp, caught off guard, and this makes him let out a breath of air in a silent laugh. His fingers slip down, brush against your clit gently, and then part your folds.

“Look at you,” he says softly, the deep tone combined with the tender touch of his fingertips elicits goosebumps. “You must have been going crazy with anticipation. You’re so fucking wet and ready for me,” he pauses. “What do you want, baby?”

You’re not sure if words will actually fall out of your lips; every part of your brain is concentrated on where his hand is. You want him to completely fuck all vocabulary out of your knowledge.

His hand disappears and just as you’re about to complain, it lands back on your aching cunt with a hard slap. His fingers like individual little whips. You whimper in pain.

“You need to be faster with your answers,” he scolds.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“Now, what is it that you want? Do you want my fingers buried deep inside you?” he asks as his index finger slips against your opening. “Or do you want my tongue?”

“I-” you stumble again with your words, unsure of what you want because all thoughts have completely lost their way to you.

“I, I, I-” he mocks in a tone that makes you fight against the restraints which makes him laugh in a tone that you haven’t heard from him in so long. And oh, how you remember how this tone used to scare you a little until he explained what goes through his head when he’s there with you in the moment.

“Fingers,” you answer in a little squeak.

Without answering, he pushes not one, not two, but three fingers into you in one go. It’s rough, hard, and a little painful as your cunt stretches around them. You push down against them instinctively and for a brief moment, he pulls them out only to shove them back into you. He does this a few times until his pace quickens. Eventually, he only pushes two fingers into you, and they don’t leave you but are instead shoved high up and dig into your vulnerable spot.

His hands have always been one your favorite physical attributes of his. The veins that protrude from the back of his hand. His long slender fingers know how to comfort you with soft strokes when he massages your scalp, and they know how to dig into you to bring you the most incredible pleasure. No man has ever been able to make you come around their fingers like he does. He amazed you the first time he fingered you, bringing you two orgasms as if he knew you and what you liked.

Your muscles tighten and he brings one hand to your lower stomach and lightly pushes down.

He doesn’t say anything and you know it’s because he’s too enamored by you. Too completely taken with you to do anything but watch and fuck you.

Your orgasm causes your hips to lift off the bed, your legs shake, and oh! His palm pressing down makes your head spin. You gasp before loud moans fill the room and he, mouth open, observes you. Precum has already decorated the front of his pants.

He continues his unrepentant rhythm, never slowing through your orgasm, and then you feel the rush. That delicious push and he gasps. “Fuck, baby,” he moans out as you feel the sudden wetness against your ass and thighs.

He slips his fingers out as your body continues to shake and then he lightly slaps your soaking cunt, the sound filling your ears, and you moan louder.

“You’ve made a mess,” he states and you’re certain his voice has gotten lower. “What should I do with you now?”

Your body slowly comes down off the waves of pleasure. Every muscle that was tense has relaxed again and your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath that you release in an attempt to catch it again.

Suddenly, your world is bright as he rips the blindfold, tugging your hair a little with it. You let out a little whimper.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispers as he gazes at you.

You blink a few times before your eyes adjust to the dim light he has shining in the room. Slowly, he comes into focus, and there is a look in his eyes that you know but have only seen a few times. A look that shows pride. You’re the one that came like that, you’re the one that has the ability to squirt, but it’s him that made you. It’s his fingers, his presence, his everything that fills your head and body.

He knows that had never happened before him and while it still doesn’t occur all too often, every time it does, you know that it fills him with pride. He doesn’t have to say anything. Tonight, he’s keeping it in for you, but that glint in his eyes betrays him and the corner of your mouth pulls ever-so-slightly.

He leans down and stops with his lips just above yours. You want to kiss him. You need to feel his lips against yours, words are not enough right now. You want to show him just how thankful you are that he’s able to bring that out in you.

Except he’s not done with you.

His lips never touch yours.

“You’ve made a mess in my bed. On my clean sheets.”

Your bed. Your shared bed, but he knows what he’s doing and how to rile you up.

“And,” his voice has deepened, his breath is hot against your lips and fuck! How you want to kiss him. “I think I might have to make you clean it up.”

“Tae,” you let out in a whimper.

He pulls away and looks down at you, his hand brushes your hair back.

“Yes?” he asks. When you don’t answer, the look in his eyes changes to something akin to concern. “What’s your color, baby?” he asks as his eyes search your face for some sort of sign that you might be dropping.

Finally you lock your gaze with his and you smile sweetly, this is the man you’ve fallen in love with. The one that cares deeply for you, loves you like no one else has ever loved you, the one that lets you dominate him, and the one that dominates you when you need to forget the world around you and lose control.

“Green, love,” you answer and his face relaxes.

For a moment the two of you lose all the roughness as he leans in and kisses you. You know that he’s doing this to reassure the both of you that this is a side of him. A side of him that matches a side of you and it makes your heart leap in your chest.

Your tongues dance together as he presses his mouth against yours. It’s soft, full of love, lust, and passion until you moan into his mouth, breaking his resolve. It’s a sudden shift and you can feel it in the way that his teeth pull at your bottom lip, his tongue sharpening as it drags along the tip of yours.

Suddenly his mouth is no longer on yours and he’s leaning over you. He grabs your wrist roughly, his chest pressing into your face and your favorite scent fills your senses. You remember the first time you hugged him; you were sure that it was the nicest cologne you had ever smelled and it fit him - a little floral, musky, with a hint of what you thought was mint.

You close your eyes as his scent overwhelms you and then suddenly, the pressure on your wrist is gone, the silk material is falling away as he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your wrist before he shifts and starts untying your other hand. You move your now free hand and push it into his hair before he grabs it again and pushes it against the bed. He moves and looks down at you and with his free hand, he grabs your cheeks and pushes them together roughly.

“Just because I’m freeing you doesn’t mean you can touch me. You are still under my control, got it?” he commands, his voice a whisper as he leans down. His eyes are dark again and the look he’s giving you mixed with the feel of his fingers pinching deep into your cheeks makes your cunt clench.

You nod in a response and he chuckles. He quickly unties your other hand, and this time, you don’t dare move your hands. Instead, you grip the silk that is still wrapped around the headboard to keep yourself from touching him.

You watch him as he stands beside the bed and begins to undo his belt and trousers. Your mouth and pussy grow wet as the possibilities of what is about to come run through your mind.

As he pushes his trousers down and steps out of them, you realize you’re hungrier for him than you had thought. You push yourself up onto your elbows as you watch him stand straight, his cock standing against his body, the tip bright pink and wet already. A moan falls out of you and he smirks.

“I think I am going to fuck that mouth.” he states as he steps onto the bed and stands above you, feet on either side of your thighs. “Wanna see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock,” he says as he drags just the tip of his thumb along the outline of your mouth.

“Stick out your tongue,” he commands and you do.

He grips the base of his cock and taps your tongue with its weight. His precum drips onto your tongue and you moan as your brain registers the familiar taste.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take all of me in this beautiful mouth?” he asks as he drags his thumb along your bottom lip, and before you can answer him in a nod or with your voice, his hand is on the back of your head and he pushes in until you feel him touch the back of your throat.

His moan fills the room as you gag around him. You can already feel the ache in your jaw from the ball gag reappear, drool drips down your chin. He pulls out, your lips tight around his girth and he exits your mouth with a small pop before he shoves his length back in.

He is relentless with his rhythm. Fucking your face hard and fast, his hands each has a fist of hair as he uses you and your mouth to make him feel good. Your eyes water, tears slip and join the drool that builds on your chin. When he backs away, a web of spit is pulled from you and he groans as he looks down at you.

“Look at you, so messy,” his thumb pushes against your bottom lip. He pulls your head back roughly and you look up at him, lips parted, spit falling down onto your breasts and you shiver before he shoves two fingers into your mouth. You gag around him.

“This is my mouth,” he says and this new demon only shares a face and body with the man you love. You try to swallow, but instead you nearly choke around him, and he chuckles, a hard and cruel laugh that comes from deep in his chest.

He pulls his fingers out and bends down just a little before he spits into your mouth.

“Swallow, whore,” he says before he stands and shoves his cock back into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks around him, your tongue dances along the wet and salty tip. He moans loudly and your pussy clenches again, you are soaking wet, ready for whatever he is about to make you do.

Then suddenly, it’s over. He looks down at you. Your chest is shiny with your spit, your face a mess, mascara drips down your cheeks, your foundation has tear streaks through it and he wipes his hand down your cheek and then your chest. He slaps one breast and you wince.

“You are mine,” he growls before he leans down and kisses you. Your neck and jaw are sore as he pulls your head back to kiss you.

He breaks the kiss and steps off the bed. You sit there soaked and ready for whatever is about to come. You need him to fill you. You need to feel him bottom out inside you and fill you with his cum.

He unties your ankles and then roughly pulls you down the bed. You fall, your back hitting the mattress, an “oof” accompanying the fall. He flips you over onto your stomach and then suddenly, his hands are no longer on you, his energy is no longer near you. He disappears for a moment, leaving the room entirely, and for a brief second, you think about following him instead of laying spread eagle on the bed, your toes pushing against the floorboards.

A hand towel lands near you.

“Wipe up the mess you made. Use that pretty spit you have all over yourself to clean my sheets.”

You look over to him. He stands there still in his shirt, cock wet and shiny. He crosses his arms against his chest and raises his eyebrows. “Now, slut.”

You turn from him, grab the towel, crawl back onto the bed, and begin to dab at the spot you’ve made on the mattress.

He watches you, his gaze drifting slowly down your naked body. The way your breasts hang and just hit the mattress. Your stomach moves with each dab you make. Your hands grip the towel tightly. Your knees pressing into the mattress and creating dips.

You are marvelous to him. You have always been amazing.

From the moment he set his eyes on you, your voice reaching his ears, he was sure that you were made for each other. The way you fit against him. The way he holds you and you hold him. Your relationship is far from perfect, but you… you are everything to him. He wants to wrap you in his arms and hold you, but a voice tells him later. He can do that later. Now is not the time. He will give you everything you both need after.

His muscles pull his face into a smirk as he steps forward. Your concentration is solely on the task in front of you as he moves behind you and grips your hips, pulling you to him. He hears you gasp and his smirk grows. “Did I tell you to stop?” he asks as he runs his hand over his cock before he presses himself against your opening, slowly moving along your folds. He loves how your body reacts to him. He will never get sick of this.

“Keep cleaning,” he demands and without any warning, he pushes into you and bottoms out. Your voices join together in a moan.

He stays there for a long moment. Buried inside you. His mind empties and he slowly begins to pull out. You shiver and he marvels at how you feel against him. He watches your hands loosen around the towel.

“If you’re not able to continue, I’m going to have to punish you.”

He pulls his hand back and connects his palm with your ass with a loud and painful slap. He watches as your ass jiggles, the waves moving down your thighs. The visual sends a zap to his cock and he pushes into you again without any warning. He continues this for a while, nearly pulling out, accompanied by a slap, pushing in, followed by another slap, and on and on until your ass tingles from the pleasurable pain and intensity of his spanks.

You’ve stopped dabbing at the spot completely and he takes advantage of this as he presses his palm between your shoulder blades and pushes you down against the mattress. You turn your face so your cheek is pressed against the spot and you feel the dampness of the sheet, your spill, against your skin.

“Stay there,” he moans, and his hands move to grip your hips as he begins a rhythm that makes your muscles clench. The ball in the pit of your stomach grows tight; you are desperate for release and he can feel it. Your pussy aches. Your knees hurt. Your ass burns and stings.

“Come for me, I know you want to,” he groans.

“Tae,” you moan, your voice weak.

His gaze is locked on you, the way you take him. Your thighs jiggling with each thrust. Your back and the beautiful curvature of your spine. The way your muscles move with each push and pull. He can feel them clench around him.

“Fucking come, you whore!” he yells as he pushes deep within you - and then, you release. Your hands tighten against the sheet, your moans fill the room with a beautiful symphony he knows the neighbors will not enjoy. But it’s the sweetest and sexiest sound he has ever heard.

He watches as you drip down your own leg, coating his cock in the purest white, and then he jerks, filling you just as you had wanted. You feel him twitch inside you, feel his warmth coat every spot of your walls. His weight falls against you, and the both of you fall against the bed. He kisses between your shoulders, stays inside you for a moment before slowly, slowly pulling out and stepping away, leaving a trail of kisses down your spine.

“Stay here, baby,” he hums as he leaves the room.

You can feel yourself dip slowly. Your energy wanes. You can feel his remnants slowly drip out of you. Your muscles are still tense as you hear the water start for a bath.

“Baby,” his voice catches you off guard and you wonder if you fell asleep as his touch jolts your body awake. “Open up,” he whispers and nudges your legs open with a gentle push with his hand.

You groan, “Please, Tae, no.” Your body is too tired to obey.

“I need to clean you up.” His voice is soft, sweet, and you know that the man you share your life with is back.

Slowly, you open your legs a little and your breath catches as you feel the warm cloth against your folds, cleaning you. He folds the cloth gently before he carefully dabs at the bruised skin of your ass.

“Oh, baby, I am so sorry. I got carried away,” he says as he leans down and gently kisses your thigh just below the now sensitive and tingling skin.

You wince and he sighs. You feel him disappear for a moment before he picks up the dish that has sat forgotten on your bedside table. He sits on the bed next to you and lifts you up with one hand until you’re sitting. You lean against his shoulder and he holds the dish out. The brightest strawberries sit in the dish, their stems cut off and you look at them for a moment.

“Come on, baby, eat and then I promise you can stay in the bath as long as you need.” He sets the bowl down on his leg and takes a strawberry and brings it to your mouth and watches as you take a small bite. He smiles, his free hand moves over your hair.

“You are amazing,” he whispers against your temple as you eat the fruit.

After you have consumed two beautiful, juicy strawberries, he guides you up to stand. You wobble on your feet and he pulls you into his chest. No shirt is stopping you from feeling his skin this time and you fall into him.

“You did so well. God, baby, you are amazing,” he says as he decorates your face in gentle and soft kisses. "The light of my life." Each kiss pressing away the sting from you each slap he gave you.

He steps into the bath first and guides you down so you sit between his legs, your head resting against your chest. It takes a moment for your body to get used to the sting of the water against your skin. But you move and finally settle, curled up on your side, your cheek against his chest, as he carefully brings a washcloth to your ass.

“I love you. So much,” he whispers as your body relaxes.

Gently, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. This is your safe place. Here, with him. You love him just as he loves you. No other place will ever feel like home as he does.

1:05am | jjk

warnings: none, just kissing and gooey fluff

request: here // “1:05am, f!reader with jungkook. whispering sweet nothings at each other”

the request is f!reader but it works out gender neutral anyway.

a/n: hope you like it anon :) jk just seems like the type of bf who’s always warm

“ARE YOU AWAKE?”

Your boyfriend’s hushed whisper fills the quiet bedroom, and you feel him shift closer towards you as he poses the innocent question.

“No,” you whisper back, eyes still glued shut.

He lets out a light chuckle, before slipping his muscled arm around your waist and dragging you closer to him, ignoring your half-hearted whines of protest. You give in, and curl up close to his warm, warm body, lay your head on his chest and feel rather than hear the contented sigh that leaves his lips.

“You can’t sleep?” you ask drowsily, as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your hair.

“Mm,” he hums lowly. “Just thinking, angel.”

You yawn into his chest, and raise your hand to stifle it as his fingers begin tracing your hairline. Jeongguk is always touchier during the night, always insistent on having you in his arms and smoothing your hair and kissing you wherever he can reach. Not that you’re complaining — far from it. Nights with Jeongguk, soft and warm and cozy, are your favourite.

“Thinking ‘bout what?” you murmur, opening you eyes to take him in. His hair is tousled, his face bare and dimmer in the darkness, but his eyes, as always, are pure love. You raise a hand to run through the tangle of dark locks on his head soothingly, and he smiles in delight.

“About you,” he admits after a moment, his eyes fluttering shut as your foreheads meet and noses bump.

“Me?” You let out a tired giggle, one that has his heart melting and he can’t help but pull you closer. “I’m honoured,” you finish lightly, gently teasing out a knot in his overgrown hair.

“You better be,” he whispers teasingly against your forehead, and you both are smiling, albeit tiredly — but tired smiles are the best, after all. What is more beautiful than fighting off the warm lull of sleep to bask in the warm smile of a lover instead?

“I am,” you assure him. “But I would be more honoured if you told me just what you were thinking.”

“I was thinking,” he begins, his eyes following his fingers as they slowly trace patterns on your bare arms, “about how much I love you.”

“Cheesy ass,” you mumble, only to hear his body shake with a laugh, before he continues.

“Being serious, baby,” he murmurs, and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with another content sigh. “’M so lucky.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and release your own satisfied sigh as he tugs you closer. “Mm, you’re so warm,” you say sleepily. “I love you.”

You can feel his smile, even if your eyes are drooping shut. “Love you too, baby,” Jeongguk whispers, breath warm against your skin, hands warm against your back, heart warm against yours. “Always.”

“Always,” you echo softly, burying your nose further into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. The last thing you feel before you sleep is lips against your forehead, and a soft whisper;

“Sweet dreams, angel.”

- panic womb. (m) ; jjk

atu!couple, established relationship, smut, fluff, 5k

note: this is based on a request i got a looooong time ago for the atu!couple. enjoy!

warnings: explicit smut, drunk (more like tipsy) sex, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, ass eating, pussy spanking, butt spanking lol, creampie kink idk lol, mentions of pregnancy, etc. jaykay is a sweetie and i love him, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

The sounds of the nightclub still echo in your ears, the base pumping through you even as you step off the elevator, heels sinking into the plush carpet. 

Jeongguk lags behind you, hands sifting through the pockets of his jeans to locate the key to your apartment before you let your vision focus and then refocus again, blinking wildly. Perhaps those tequila shots Taehyung gave you weren’t such a good idea. 

Keep reading

mistress | k.nj

rating: angst, smut 🍒 (college!au) slowburn

pairing: dilf!yandere!professor!namjoon x student!f!reader, 

word count: 14,763 grab the popcorn

summary: after years of misfortune, your acceptance at a prestigious university seemed to be a turning point in your life – until your psychology professor decided otherwise.

request: Hello author-nim , i hope you’re doing well . Can i request a yandere dilf namjoon where he is the president. He visit oc’s university and he becomes obsessed with her

warning: age gap (the reader is about 18-19, namjoon is older than her), classism (?), mentions of prostitution, slut shaming, namjoon’s wife is batshit crazy, murder that is not explicitly written, yandere themes, unhealthy obessesion, rough sex !!!, spanking/whipping, namjoon chokes the reader with his belt, oral (recieving), daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, creampie, namjoon has a thing for being called daddy/sir, infedility, namjoon is a little bit of tsundere in the beginning, poorly written ending ugh, i’m sorry this is unedited, i apologize for any mistakes

Upon your professor’s final dismissal, a sea of students began to file out of the large lecture hall after more than an hour of learning tedious information. Although the mood of the class had been rather dreary — numerous tired faces were proof of this — you were elated to begin your first day at university. Regardless of the misfortune that seemed to plague your family, this signified the beginning of a new chapter for you and possibly even hope for a brighter future. Before you could pack your various notebooks properly inside your bag, you noticed that nearly all of the students had exited the room in a rush to enjoy the rest of their day. 

The start of your first semester had begun smoother than you had imagined in your head. A few mishaps along the way seemed virtually impossible for you to avoid, yet you were happy that you had managed to remain joyous for most of the day. Within each course, you tried your best to be noticed by all of your professors, which proved to be a hard task but definitely not impossible for you. For most of your life, you were known as an exemplary student and there were very few disappointing grades on your report card throughout high school. Your teachers had hardly anything to complain about, the only words you were used to hearing at the parent and teachers conferences was the endless praise of those who taught you.

Indeed, your hard work had paid off; not that you were surprised, but it certainly wasn’t easy for you to become top of your class and simultaneously earn numerous scholarships and acceptances to prestigious colleges. For that, you were pleased with yourself, especially knowing that there were many chances for you to give up on your dreams. Your mother was also exceptionally proud, you can distinctly remember how emotional she was as she read off all of your acceptance letters. Her tears had coated every single paper that she held, and for the first time in a while, she had been overcome with happiness. 

A few students lingered around the exit, including one boy that you saw dozing off in the middle of your professor’s lecture. You couldn’t help but release a soft giggle as you noticed his head tilting downwards at times only for him to spring back up and try his best not to fall asleep, eventually, he failed and the soft dulcet of light snores echoed soon after. You wanted to wake him up, but perhaps you were too shy or enjoyed the sight of him resting, and in the end, you decided to leave him alone. As you carefully lifted your heavy bag and placed the strap over your shoulder, you saw him trying to talk to a few students who brushed him off and ignored his advances. When you finally made it to the exit, you noticed him staring at you wide-eyed and seemingly stressed. 

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some say fate manifests itself in odd ways, could yours be the ‘help needed’ poster in a bookstore window?

summary: in your desperation to find a job, you accept work at the local bookstore, owned by a grumpy man who wants to make your life miserable. you can’t seem to figure out why he’s so cold towards you yet charming and sweet to everyone else. when his act starts to slip, you realise there’s more to him than he lets on pairing: bookstore owner! jungkook x reader genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to friends to lovers, i guess you could say enemies to lovers word count: 15.3k warnings: jungkook is mean at first :( swearing, they’re really dorky, alcohol consumption, dad!namjoon bc that itself needs a warning, explicit smut - dirty talk, oral (f receiving), lots of making out, fingering, big d jungkook, soft sex but at the same time its rough?? idk jungkook is just really caring, missionary, riding, multiple orgasms, praise kink, brief handjob, breast play, creampie, after-care

kismet. noun, destiny; fate.⠀

It truly was a miracle how your landlord hadn’t kicked you and your roommate out of your apartment yet. Perhaps he felt sympathy for the two of you, fresh out of college and living off of takeaway food while figuring out what to do with your lives. Whatever it was, you were grateful for the extra week he had given the both of you to hand in your rent.

Keep reading

how long will we fall

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: if it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it.

alternatively, jungkook’s your soulmate, but he doesn’t want to be.

[ soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love (at first), a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, reverse cards that make u cheer, redemption arc, i swear to u that this does not hurt as much as heartburn did ]

notes: i'm back with a big fic!!! :D this was originally supposed to be named something else but i realized that the title was Too Serious and u know what,,, ten listens later as i write this, i realized that i'm obsessed with this song that i received from this ask and wow thank u so much anon <33 although the rec isn't originally for this fic, it fits perfectly and i can't thank u enough <33

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

There will never be another Jeon Jungkook in this world — that much you're sure of.

You're sure of it because it feels as if it's a universal truth. An irrevocable and irreversible one that you don't bother verifying because Jungkook carries his presence with finality, obvious that he carries security within himself the most.

If he were to slip away from your grasp for any reason beneath or beyond you, you’d know that he leave a vacuum in his wake. Jungkook isn’t yours for you to lose, but he is yours for you to long for.

You know this because Jungkook is the type of beauty you won't ever grow used to despite spending years, with him and around him. You're both seniors in college and yet you don't feel like it, despite being born just a couple months earlier than him (therefore older) which irks him to this day. You don't feel like it because his presence alone makes you feel like you're in elementary figuring out your heart flutters from square one.

If he were to star in a show, he’d be the mainstay character everyone fawns over. He would be the one to stay in the biggest trailer, have the most doting team, and have the brightest lights on him. If Jungkook was a star, he’d rake in all the money by himself.

If Jungkook were to to be yours, you’d never want for anything more.

“Are you seriously — don’t sleep on me!”

Jungkook’s voice is the first thing that snaps you out of your reverie, reminding you once again that you think of him even if he’s already in your presence, an endearingly-type of new low for you.

“I wasn’t sleeping on you,” you snort with a defensive cross of your arms across your chest, the prospect of rest making you yawn in suppression with your mouth closed, eyes tearing up and your nostrils flaring instead.

“Yeah but you were zoning out on me,” he sing-songs in faux irritation, twirling on his chair with an accusing point of his finger, “and that means I have two minutes left to talk to you before you fall asleep.”

The only reason you’re awake is because Jungkook practically begged to keep you up as emotional (and actual) support for the entirety of the assignments he’s been cramming.

You share a spacious dorm and yet the two of you are cooped up in his room because his mind would overload if he’s in someplace else, eyes surely gonna shake if he were to write essays on the coffee table in the living room or at the bar stool in the kitchen.

“What do you need me for now?”

Need.

It’s nice being needed.

It’s nice being needed that despite Jungkook’s initials on your ring finger that tied him to you as your soulmate, and his unawareness of it, Jungkook needs you.

The initials on one’s left ring finger develops over time. Some take mere years after their birth while others take decades. Starts off faint until they become clear red letters right on your vena amoris, inked on the skin above the vein that’s closest to your heart.

It gets fully-developed when it’s fully-realized. Having Jungkook’s bright and clear on your finger didn’t necessarily mean your initials reflect the same condition on his.

It was personal preference, really — whether or not you choose to cover up the soulmate mark or not. You’ve always chosen to cover your finger up with a ring because you didn’t want to freak your best friend ever since childhood that simply put, the two of you are soulmates.

Jungkook, just like you, chooses to wear a ring. In fact, he even wears the same one that you do because he argues that even if you’ve bought the silver signet ring first with the money you’ve saved up for years (it wasn’t cheap at all), he thought about it first.

That’s where the connection ends; only goes so far for the two of you to have matching rings to cover up your soulmate marks.

Jungkook, adamantly and stubbornly since the start, doesn’t like looking at his ring finger.

Even before there were faint outlines of ink, too vague for it to resemble your initials, eight-year old Jungkook would start having things around his particular digit, whether it’s a two-day old ring pop he leaves in the fridge or a piece of yarn that accidentally almost cuts off his blood circulation.

You remember Mrs. Jeon sheepishly explaining to curious onlookers whenever both of your families would go out for trips and that out of the two youngest members of their entourage, the handsome child with the wide eyes would have some sort of cover on his ring finger at an early age, be it an oven mitten or a headband scrunched up.

“I like not knowing who’s apparently meant for me.”

You’ve asked him multiple times throughout your life, all for Jungkook to be consistent and give you the same answer every time.

The same answer when you were kids as you repetitively flicked the tip of his ring finger with your eyes closed as instructed by him, in panic to make him feel something because he’s covered his mark with yet another ribbon too tightly, and in respect because even he himself didn’t want to see the ink.

The same answer when you were teenagers and you’re getting Christmas gifts together and Jungkook just looked too much like your ideal boyfriend with the way he’s lining up for you on the counter and is watching over all the items, pulling you closer every now and then when the prospect of losing you to the crowd gets higher with every rush.

The same answer now while you’re passing the time on his bed as he’s hunched over his desk, a harmless question included randomly into your series of sleep-induced curiosity; the question of why he doesn’t want to know about his soulmate, asked in the same breath of casualness to whether Jungkook preferred his rice better cooked with too much water or too less of it, or if he’d go home for the holidays with presents already prepared.

“Is that a kink?” you scrunch your nose at his unwavering consistency, knowing you would’ve liked it for any other situation besides this.

Jungkook breathily laughs, shrugging his shoulders carelessly as if the two of you are talking about the weather and he’s admitted that it’s been years since he’s last looked at a forecast willingly.

“I don’t wanna know, really. I still breathe without knowing who they are.”

The way he says it is easy, no underlying malice indicated in his tone at all. He says it in the way as if he’s been asked this a hundred times and his response is natural and well-lived, not once changing.

“I don’t believe in fate.”

Hurt doesn’t even explain half the pain in your chest all this time but in this light with the way you’re simply asking him why he doesn’t want a soulmate, why he doesn’t want you by extension — it’s only an ache.

It’s only an ache that pacifies on your bones instead of gnawing on them. It’s drawn-out yet dull, the pain not striking you enough to the point that you even hum at him to elaborate.

“Because what if I don’t end up loving them? What if the one I end up loving isn’t the one the universe apparently destined for me?” Jungkook goes on, lips in a slight pout. “Love doesn’t have initials.”

You sink further into his pillow, playing with your fingers yet retaining your gaze on him.

“You don’t have to love your soulmate.”

Read: you don’t have to love me.

Additionally: you don’t have to love me because having you in this platonic way atleast gives me the semblance that you love me even by a fraction, but if you love me in the same way I love you, it’d be nice.

“You say that now to make me believe in them,” he snorts, twirling a pen between his fingers with a genuinely curious gaze, “but what happens if you aren’t the one they want?”

You haven’t been doing anything and yet you still stop in your tracks, the question echoing in your mind as you repeat his query out loud.

“What happens if your soulmate doesn’t want you?”

What does happen?

You don’t die. You don’t puke flowers.

There’s no catch to it. There’s no grand consequence to having your soulmate not want you.

It makes you think once of your present situation and rethink twice of every decision you’ve ever made beforehand when your ring finger was still plain and devoid of his initials; when the only person you’ve made plans with and for isn’t just yourself, when it wasn’t him.

Jungkook doesn’t want you.

What’s supposed to happen to you?

“I need you to stop zoning out and help me make this essay!” he whines demandingly and it’s the last thing that pulls you out of your thoughts, sitting up straighter.

“If you start asking now, I can actually start helping you, y’know?”

Jungkook’s in STEM while you’re a literary major, the obvious exchange of help being convenient, yet the only difference is that when you make him answer your worksheets, you don’t wait until it’s three hours before the supposed deadline.

He’s giddy now that he’ll get to finish his last assignment due, eyes scanning back to the instructions because his attention span’s already been spent looking at his phone.

“What's love to you?"

You freeze at the abruptness but you move on just as quick as you were surprised, remembering that it’s just the guideline for an essay and not the turning point you’ve expected it to be for a split second.

“How do you want me to answer that?

You ask lightly, humorously even, as you stand up from his bed, running a hand through your hair and working the knots of out of your neck before you get to work.

“I want you to answer it in the sense that I have a paper about love due tomorrow. At 12:00 in the morning.”

“Why?” Jungkook giggles additionally, nudging you with a shit-eating grin and a playful glint on his eyes. “How would you have wanted to answer that?”

“Nothing else,” you smile faintly, scooting him to out of his seat and switch positions so he could sit on his bed while you type for him at his desk. “I’m answering it in the sense that you would be lost without me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

It’s only meant to be a tease but it hits home nonetheless. Maybe it’s because you’re in your soulmate’s room underneath his lights and you’re visible to him. Maybe it’s because your mark pulses just ever so slightly underneath your ring, irritated and itchy underneath the silver as much as you feel hurt.

“Lost without me in the sense that you’d fail your subject if I don’t help you with your essay now."

( ♡ )

Anyone who’d meet Jungkook for the first time is likely to think of three things.

He looks clean. Handsome in a way that he looks effortless even if he wears the same oversized black shirt every guy wears outside, enough to garner second glances for himself. He’s tidy in the facet that he looks like he takes care of himself but not vain, far from annoying prep kids he scoffs at.

Jungkook looks rich and is rich. His family doesn’t come from generational wealth and yet they thrive from their own holdings, learning early-on that they owned a cottage near the beach and rented it out as they moved next-door, and the next thing you know is that at present, they own multiple properties and ventured out into food business that make absolute bank.

He carries himself with the stature that he knows what he’s doing, back sometimes slouched but dignified nonetheless, the air of importance surrounding him. Jungkook was raised in comfort but he’s humble, that much you’d bet your whole life into believing. He was the type to have pocket money whenever he goes out but he spends it in the same way you do, calculating his expenses mentally as if the bills in his wallet wouldn’t pay for the video games he’d want and even have some change afterwards.

He’s aware in the sense that he doesn’t forget where he comes from, admitting to you numerous times that his family having much disposable income sometimes bothers him. Jungkook thinks there’s an itch behind his ear whenever his dad proposes to eat at a five-star restaurant for dinner; that there’s a guilty pout on his face when his mom takes the initiative to buy him new sets of clothes because his shirts look too lived-in, even if he knows to himself that his wardrobe needed a change.

He’s down-to-earth and it reminds you of the way he’d forego all of his Fisher-Price toys just to try and plead to you if he could borrow your hand-me-down stuffies from your older siblings. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are nothing but humble in the same way that they raised their child, despite the fact that in rare times, they have the taste for the finer things in life.

Mrs. Jeon’s beyond generous during the holiday seasons and you recall her gifting your mother the expensive casserole you’d catch her looking at in adoration whenever both your families had dinners, customized to her favorite color and attached with a heartfelt letter from Jungkook’s mom. Mr. Jeon practically adores your dad and looks up to him like a younger brother would, always taking him to fishing trips just and buying two pairs of the same things so the two of them could match.

Jungkook was raised-well and if it’s even possible at this point, he gets much more endearing in your eyes.

“Why would I not walk you home? We live together, if you haven’t realized.”

He says it when he sees you in campus as he drops everything to walk you home, even if your shared apartment isn’t his destination for the time being. He goes out of his way to ensure that if you stay home while he goes about his plans, there should be food in the fridge and cupboards that you’d actually like. He’d lock the door and try to budge it open from outside, and once he’s assured enough that it remains secured, he’d go about his routine of texting you to call him if you need him.

“You can have mine. I’m full anyway.”

Jungkook says it whenever the two of you end up ordering new items from menus and you end up liking your dish, offering you his plate nonchalantly. He insists that it just tastes average for him, and if he sees you hesitating on stealing some from his portion, he’d go as far as telling you that it tastes horrible so you wouldn’t feel guilty.

“Look! My mom sent you these! I told her you liked them.”

He calls you over every time his family’s goodies for him for the month arrives at the mail, laying the package on the floor as he waits for you to unbox it with him because he knows just how much you like going through things and organizing them. Mrs. Jeon always made sure to include something specifically meant for you in Jungkook’s box — whether it’s the family-sized portion of your recent cravings or your favorite hair treatment in bulk.

“Hey, wanna go on a drive with me?”

He asks you whenever he sees you too absorbed and frustrated in your studies in conjunction with whatever work gig you have at the time, heart panging to see you struggling to take care of yourself because he knows you have the tendency to try and finish everything as fast and as good as you could, not stopping even at personal circumstances. He’d simply put your pair of house slippers on the floor for you to wear, pull you up by your armpits to urge you to come with him, and he’d just drive. Would go through a drive-thru and take off from there, not pressuring you to open up to him at whatever cost.

Jungkook can’t sense you in the same way you do, like a soulmate would, but he cares for you in the way that he can tell when you don’t feel like functioning at all and you’re shutting down; you’re shutting even him off and that’s when he knows that something’s bothering you to no end even if he can’t decipher what is it.

Whatever’s in his power, Jungkook sits next to you, lies on top of you, and does almost everything to invade your personal space whenever you shut down — just because he doesn’t want to give up on you like how you do with him.

If anyone were to meet Jungkook for the first time, they’d know he’s uniquely himself.

He cleans up extremely good as he wears a suit to the grand opening of his family’s café, a dream of her mother ever since she was a teenager that became fully-realized and he can’t be any more happier seeing his parents content.

He greets people left and right with genuine happiness to see all of them ecstatic and supportive, eagerly shaking their hands with a full smile on his face. He draws everyone in effortlessly as if he’s inertia itself, well-aware that it can’t only possibly be you that looks at him with this much reverence.

There’s a red string of pull and you feel it when Jungkook stumbles on his feet on his way to you, feeling your body being slightly tugged downwards but you pull yourself up just as quick, playing it off by pretending that there’s a speck of dirt on your shoes.

He’s been looking for you for the past five minutes because it’s his mother’s fault that she wanted two floors for their café and it’s packed immediately on opening, pointing at you eagerly as he weaves through people. “There you are!”

It’s not your first time meeting Jungkook but you feel the same three things each time, heart swelling in size in familiarity of the person who inhabits it the most.

Jungkook giddily laughs and takes his position beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and making conversation with your parents for the umpteenth time, your head instinctively bending to lean against him. He looks every bit the part of the person you love the most in this world, despite being unsure if you even deserve to in the first place. He looks every bit of the guy that makes you realize you can’t deal with having anyone else’s initials on your finger, the words slipping out of you naturally.

“You look like someone’s first love.”

( ♡ )

You’re flawed.

You’re flawed and you don’t need anyone to tell you so in order to give yourself a wake-up call.

You’re flawed in a way because you feel dumb being so lovestruck and devoted with little to no point of salvation. You pride yourself in not being selfish but you’d be lying if you say don’t once hope that Jungkook would look at you in the way that you do. Every now and then would you feel the urge to demand from him insistently every second of the day that he should love you. That he owes you atleast that for the years you’ve spent helplessly trying to put him first rather than your own sanity.

But it feels wrong. It is wrong.

Jungkook doesn’t owe you anything and you know that much.

He doesn’t owe you anything and you shouldn’t expect for him to pay attention to you even if you’re his designated driver for the night, celebrating the end of the stressful semester by unwinding at a club.

He doesn’t owe you an explanation when you see him not fending off the countless girls that go up to him and get their hands on whatever they could; doesn’t owe you an apology when you see him leaning down fondly to kiss someone who isn’t you — someone who isn’t his soulmate.

You would’ve been alone in your booth and the club in general (your soulmate’s out of the equation because he looks like he’s in a different realm entirely) if not for Hoseok, someone who’s perhaps your second best friend right after Jungkook.

It’s merely a coincidence that the both of you are here at the same time, him being the one to easily spot you as he weaves himself in your company seamlessly because he’s been meaning to escape all his frat brothers who annoy him more these days.

“I have something to say to you.”

Hoseok breaks into your worrisome silence, beckoning you over even if the two of you are sat right next to each other with your shoulders bumping.

“No. no. Come closer,” he insists and it makes you roll your eyes at what he could be playing at this time, indulging him by putting the side of your face right against his playfully.

Hoseok’s even more rational and realistic than you could be. In fact, he’s followed your gaze the entire night and he wonders how you haven’t grown tired. He knows about your helpless pining for your soulmate who doesn’t even want to know about you nor your existence, and all he can do is watch.

“You’re insane if you think this whole thing wouldn’t end up anything but extremely painful.”

His words are in a harsh whisper but it feels as if he’s yelled at you right to your ear, making you flinch away from his softly with a defeated pout on your face.

His words come out of nowhere but the rational part of you, the one that disappears whenever you’re vulnerable in this state longing after Jungkook, already knew that you’ve had this coming for a long time.

Hoseok doesn’t sugarcoat his words and it’s what you need almost all of the time. He’s harsh and unforgiving and it reminds you that you have a friend who isn’t Jungkook — someone who isn’t as gentle or kind; someone who grounds you rationally whenever you get too far up your head.

“Let me live, Hobi.”

“What you’re doing isn’t living, Y/N.”

He thinks for a second that he’s being too harsh but he realizes that maybe, just maybe, you need the truth no matter how cruel it could be. He figures that maybe you’d need someone to call you out instead of pitying you over what they could clearly see. “Tell me,” he murmurs, crossing his arms as he looks at you whose eyes are avoiding his gaze.

“Do you live for yourself first?” he nudges you by the shoulder, lightly tapping your ring with his finger. “Or do you live for Jungkook?”

Do you live for yourself first,

or do you live for Jungkook?

You’re dead silent and it’s the type that Hoseok doesn’t want to hear, mumbling to yourself before leaning to his neck to sniff whatever remnant he has on.

“God, what are you on?” you’re deflecting and you know it, cracking your knuckles at the process. “Let me have a hit of it.”

“I’m serious over here.”

Hoseok sees right through you and you feel like crying, recognizing the familiar solemn look on his face because like everyone else who has even the faintest idea of your situation, he pities you.

“And I’m telling you this as someone who cares for you,” he lightly swipes underneath your eyes that are welling up with tears before they even get to fall, effectively prying them out. “Let go of him while you still can.”

“How do I do that?”

You’re breathless in exhaustion but it’s not as if you’ve done anything physically strenuous to be in such a state. You haven’t done anything but it feels as if the wind is knocked out of your lungs and it doesn’t come back to you even if your sail blows.

“How do I do that if Jungkook asks me what do I want for dinner?” there’s trepidation underneath your tone and Hoseok recognizes it, the tremble in your fingers visible even if you have them clenched. “How do I do that if he holds my hand when we cross the street and shields me in crowds?”

“How do you expect me to do that when he calls my parents on weekends and tells them that he’ll always look out for me?”

You’re not scared of letting Jungkook know but rather, you’re scared of your inevitable fall. You’re not scared of the white hot pain you anticipate to feel when the moment finally comes that he says it straight to your face that he doesn’t love you; you’re scared of what happens to the two of you after and what’s left of it.

“How do you expect me to stop loving Jungkook when he acts like he loves me back?”

“He doesn’t.”

“And I know that.”

You’re flawed in the way that you’re self-aware. That you’re painfully mindful of your own emotions and multitudes. You hate that you’re as logical as you are emotional and for once, you just wish you didn’t know better.

You wish that you’re insensitive and reckless. You wish you were more cunning in the sense that you disregard Jungkook completely and stop at nothing to try and get him to look your way with a different gaze.

You wish that you’re anyone but yourself, someone who’s deserving of Jungkook.

“What do I do now, Hobi?” you lean into him because you can’t support yourself and he knows it, the weight of your heart being heavier than your head on his shoulder.

You’re flawed because you suppress a coo at the back of your throat when Jungkook stumbles over to your booth and immediately wraps his arms around you, drunken babbles leaving him as it’s a sign for you to take him home.

You’re flawed because you hear your soulmate speak as you bid goodbye to Hoseok for the night, only smiling when you hear his words. It’s a pain that doesn’t encompass you, rather, it’s a pain that’s hot enough to burn your flesh yet just warm enough to quell the pain in your bones.

“You're my best, best friend in every universe. Y’know that?” he hiccups, eyes completely glazed and rubbed raw as he looks at the side of your face while you haul him to your car. “I hope you know that.”

( ♡ )

Your door opens up before you even realize it.

Actually, Jungkook opens your door before he even realizes it.

He’s woken up in a rush with a single text from his dad that they’re coming over to visit and normally it wouldn’t bother him. Waking up abruptly in the morning isn’t a problem to him and so is making a game plan in cleaning everything up to make sure it’s spotless to his mother’s standards.

What is a problem is that when he entered the bathroom to brush his teeth without a shirt on, he sees the reflection of his hickies from the night before glaring right at him.

However, what an even bigger problem than that is when he tries to wake you up by knocking on your door with the pleads of helping him cover his marks up, it automatically opens when he twists the knob.

“Y/N, no! Why’s your door unlocked?”

His eyes widen in panic and worry, wondering why it wasn’t even locked in the first place. Better yet, has it never been locked ever since? When he leaves you alone in the apartment, do you go out of your way to unlock the main door that he secures closed on the way out?

“And why aren’t you even moving out of bed when someone’s inside your room? What if it isn’t me? What if it’s someone else who did the exact things I did?”

Jungkook’s more worried than he is mad even if his tone’s jittery, hands on his hips as his mind makes up for the whole nine yards. Seriously, does he regard your safety more than you do with your own? Leaving your door open is beyond unsafe. Were you being more forgetful these days? Does he not look over you enough?

You’re oblivious to his panicked state as you burrow yourself deeper into your sheets, eyes remaining peacefully closed because it doesn’t surprise you anymore when he suddenly inserts his presence into your vicinity.

“But it’s you,” you sleepily mumble, half-coherent with the way you hug your pillow closer. “Aren’t you the one who kept knocking at my door?”

He scoffs because you do make a point even if he refuses to admit it, but it just ticks him in a way that you regard his concern for you so lightly. “That’s different and-…”

“And now you’ve opened it yourself and invited yourself into my room.”

“Yeah and that’s okay because it’s me!” he gestures out but he forgets that you’re not even looking at him, unaware of how he looks genuinely upset and worried at the moment. “But what if it was someone else, hm?”

“Like who, an intruder?” you suggest even if you don’t know where this conversation is taking you, your careless words leaving you before you even realize because you don’t have half the realization to think about them deeper. “You’ll protect me if there is one, right?”

Jungkook freezes in his tracks and he suddenly feels no point in trying to berate you further, the stark suggestion that was only meant to be light-hearted painting him a grave image he wasn’t even trying to conjure, trying not to snowball for the worst possible scenario.

He should always be there for you, that much he knows.

“Fucking idiot, of course I would,” he huffs that you even doubt his prioritization for you and it makes you snort because you clearly hear it, turning to face the other side as you make no move in shooing him away and instead try to go back to sleeping. “But starting now, promise me you’ll lock your doors and wake up immediately when someone knocks, alright? You hear me?”

“Hmm.”

“Cross your heart on it,” he says it out of habit even if he knows you wouldn’t do it anyway, sitting on the vacant side of you bed as he tries to shake you awake. “Anyways, I need a favor from you.”

It’s never been lost on you that unlike every other time, Jungkook wouldn’t willingly come to you this early into the night without needing something from you for his own benefit. You don’t get your hopes up that perhaps this time, he comes to your bed just to hold you in warmth amongst his embrace because it’s something only a fever nap could do for you; clearly not sick enough to see that image.

“What do you need me for now?” your eyes start blinking open as you shift to look straight up at the ceiling, casting a glance on Jungkook who has a sheepish pout on his face.

“Please cover up my hickies. I’m begging you."

You don’t even flinch once and he’s nervous at how it seems like you didn’t even hear what he said, prompting to explain himself further. “Mom and Dad are visiting and they’re already on the way.”

You’re used to this.

There shouldn’t be any surprise factor to know that the time Jungkook wakes you up outside for the purpose of not making you late to your classes or to your errands, it would be for his sake. He wakes you up for the sake of himself, asking of you to cover up his hickies because he’s ever the angel to his parents and he can’t do it himself.

Jungkook wakes you up for you to see marks that link him to another woman, even if it’s just for a night, while he covers up the only marks he has of you on his finger and he doesn’t even know it, completely devoid of the only linking thing you have with him.

“Get me my makeup bag.”

He immediately knows where it is and he manages to mumble out a rushed thanks, sprinting back to where you lay. In fact, you have a separate concealer in Jungkook’s shade already that you don’t even need to turn the light on to know it’s a perfect match.

You sit up lazily and cover up his hickies like it’s routine. You see him everyday as he belongs to everyone but yourself, and the physical proof of it doesn’t hurt you as much as you expected it to be.

He lays down on your lap and neither of you talk.

You skim past the hues of pink and purple on his neck as if you were born simply to see them on your soulmate’s neck, as if you were conditioned all your life to be the one to cover up hickies on Jungkook’s skin as your sole purpose. You do the process of covering it up over and over again until you get rid of the marks that remind him he isn’t yours at all, right until he sits up to admire your handicraft.

“Woah, it’s like it wasn’t even there! This is so-“

“Now get out.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he gets whiplash from your hostile tone, but he probably chalks it up to you being sleepy, him interrupting your rest, and you desperately wanting to get back to it.

He’s out of your room to now clean up the entire place but your tone doesn’t leave him still, making him sigh out loud while he tries not to overthink it.

You’re just sleepy.

You’d never get mad at him.

Jungkook’s eyes blink once, twice as he resumes wiping down the counters, slower and more thoughtful this time.

You’d never get mad at him, right?

( ♡ )

The day is slow and so is the pain in your heart.

You can’t put a finger on it exactly, but being with Jungkook in any other form besides a soulmate doesn’t hurt you as much nowadays. The hurt is there but it’s never really left anyway. The vacuum in the shape of Jungkook from within you has been there for so long that the hurt you feel seems like a routine at this point.

You look for him in the way when there’s a misplaced decoration on the shelf; a single magazine missing amongst a row of books. You look for it, but you come to accept it. You don’t look for Jungkook in the way when you realize that an heirloom is missing from your possession and you tear around the whole place to seek it.

Having Jungkook away from your grasp feels as normal as you have him within yours platonically, the two weighing the same amount of harrowing.

“I have an idea,” Jungkook proposes to you over the couch when he’s shouldered dinner and it’s just yet to arrive, passing the time by being around you even if your attention isn’t on him. “What if you look at my soulmate mark?”

You’ve only been endlessly scrolling through your feed and as much as you expected Jungkook to bother your silence with one conversation or another, you didn’t think it’d be this.

Rarely does it cross your mind nowadays that you’re soulmates before you’re best friends turned roommates. In fact, not once did you wander about him today and admittedly in realization, it scares you before it relieves you.

“What for?”

“Shit and giggles, I think,” he replies with much amusement but the determination in his eyes tell you that he’s more than insistent. “Don’t tell me about it though. Don’t tell me even a single clue.”

You will yourself to look back at your phone, to ignore him as if he hasn’t said the stupidest yet simultaneously brightest proposal he’s ever given you because it’s too sudden. You’ve waited for years but now that Jungkook’s asking you to look at his mark in behalf of him, simply for shit and giggles, you worry that it’s too sudden. Too early. That the moment you’ve waited for years is too abrupt and now you’d rather wait for another lifetime for it.

“What’re you doing this for?”

You repeat the question again but you’re equally as serious the first time around, seeing his brows furrow because he feels like you’ve changed the atmosphere without him knowing.

“I suddenly got curious.”

“You don’t get curious.”

“I know, I just get easily influenced,” Jungkook sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his head because it seems to him that you’re cornering him and shutting him down for no reason at all. He doesn’t necessarily know why he feels intimidated by you, but it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try to ease the tension by explaining himself. “Remember when I asked you to cover up my hickies last week?”

“What about it?” your eyes narrow in genuine wonder, prompting you to think just how long Jungkook’s been meaning to ask you this.

“You weren’t wearing a bra that time.”

The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth continuously and he only has the mind to look embarrassed by it when you sputter out loud, averting his gaze to suppress a laugh,

“Jungkook-!” your pupils dart wildly, appalled and embarrassed at the same time when you defensively cross your arms across your chest even if what he’s pertaining to has long been finished. “Of course I wasn’t wearing a bra! It was 5 AM and I was still asleep when you kept knocking on my door!”

“And I wasn’t looking!” he defends himself with a laugh, head automatically shaking as he tries to reach out to you but you only swat him away. “I just glanced once because I realized it but I didn’t look again, I swear!”

“Well sometimes, you should keep your mouth shut!” you squeak, rolling your eyes as you try to get away from his further by moving to the opposite end of the couch. “I would’ve been able to live in peace without knowing you saw my boobs through my shirt.”

“It’s normal! Just like you seeing me without a shirt! We live together, stupid. It was bound one way or another,” he argues, earning yet another frustrated groan from you.

You power through the embarrassment because you’d look like such a sore loser if you walk away from him now, hiding your face to a throw pillow as Jungkook gathers his wits while he tries to get closer to you, abandoning his spot on the other end of the couch.

“Not only weren’t you wearing a bra-”

“Watch it,” you seethe when he gets close enough for you to flick his forehead harshly, earning a whine from him in the midst of laughing as he gets choked up.

His cheeks are tinted pink and it’s clear he can’t breathe well with how much he’s entertained, clearing his throat a few times and having to look away from you because your face alone apparently sends him into a fit of giggles.

You think this is the end of it. You think Jungkook’s effectively forgotten about his previous proposal and you’d be able to end the night with a good dinner and no confrontations at all, but your expectation gets spoiled as soon as you started hoping.

“You weren’t wearing your ring too.”

Your heart drops before you even get to digest all of the words, the hurt hitting you before the impending realization.

“W-what?”

Jungkook’s face twists in worry to see you so shaken up when he barely did anything, certain that you wouldn’t look this pale over a few minutes of teasing and banter. He tilts his head at you and it prompts you to straighten up and fix the worry in your features, good enough for him to continue.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t look. Besides, your mark was turned away from me the entire time because you were dabbing on my neck and I was getting sleepy while you did it,” he shrugs carelessly and it’s the first time you could physically feel the relief in your shoulder that melts all away the tension, the feeling so fluid that it feels warm.

“It was still dark too,” he adds in recollection, a faint smile on his face as he gestures to you and motions at your chest vaguely. “All I saw were just like… peaks and shadows.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook,” you snap but there’s no real bite to it. In fact, it even sounds sweet but he doesn’t know how to read between the lines and therefore nestles to your side in rising worry.

“I’m sorryyy,” he drawls out and the moment he feels you pat his nape with your confirmation that it’s okay and doesn’t really matter in the first place, he springs up back to his straight posture against the cushions of the couch, an eager smile evident.

“Anyways, that’s why you have me wondering what’s underneath my ring,” he connects seamlessly, obviously unaware of the way you’ve tensed up beside him. “Now come on, it’s okay! Think of this as me making it up to you. You can go look.”

Jungkook turns his position on the couch to face you, his left hand raised right in front of you and he’s laughing with unknown nerves, the feeling being akin to being tickled because he anticipates it fully, but the sensation feels different every time.

Your mouth dries when you’re faced with the same signet ring that you wear yourself, right on Jungkook’s digit. The shiny silver stares back at you in the eye and you can’t take your gaze away from it, the familiar piece of jewelry looking more unrecognizable the longer you look at it.

You don’t know what you expect from it when he teasingly starts to pull his ring up without any big movements to reveal the ink that’s underneath, but as much as you don’t know what you want to see, the trepidation blooms fully in your chest for you to have the mind in stopping him.

“Don’t.”

Jungkook’s confused and shocked to why you suddenly refused, recalling that just two seconds ago, you were all for his fun little proposal but now you’re no longer on-board.

He’s familiar with the conflict in your eyes, he just doesn’t recognize what’s it supposed to be. He sees the cracks of your hurt, he just doesn’t know the focus of it,

“Why not?” he frowns, genuinely curious to see you avoiding his gaze.

“I shouldn’t be the first one to see it.”

“I trust you, though.”

It’s what hurts all the more because he trusts you to see the initials of what would lead him to his soulmate, to you, but not in looking at you face-to-face for you to become the very thing he doesn’t want.

“Maybe next time, Jungkook.”

The mood is somber and he doesn’t know what to make of it besides the fact that you worry him deeply, bending downwards to have a glance at your face. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He looks down on his ring but now he suddenly feels off-put looking at it, obscuring his mark that makes him curious.

“Does it have to do with your own soulmate not wanting you?” he jokes around lightly to ease the mood and if only he knew that he’s hurting you right where it hurts, he would’ve shut his mouth int the first place.

You’re bitter, harshly biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from crying, voice straining as you try to bring back the playful atmosphere.

“I’ll have you know, I’m easy to love, Jungkook. Try it sometime."

He giggles right to your face — laughs at your hurt, right to your vulnerability and the little pride you have left.

“Silly,” Jungkook ruffles your hair in much amusement, eyes crinkling in giddiness because you’ve bounced back from the minor inconvenience in his eyes just as quick. “I can’t love you.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s family has a new house.

What’s different this time is that the house they had built isn’t for business purposes to be occupied by long-time tenants nor short-term guests. The spacious three-floored house is wide in technicality but it feels quaint and warm with all the furniture and personality inside it. Most vacation houses and cottages they had built are neutral, the life of the space completely dependent on its future inhabitants. But this house of theirs is clearly their own, the evidence of the three-member family visible from floor to ceiling.

Your family’s at the top of the guest list for their housewarming and it’d be a lie to say that you don’t feel fold seeing your parents and older siblings’ reaction to the welcome that the Jeon family gives. They’re nice hosts with the way they usher their visitors to the catering tables but they’re even more warm and familial with the way they give you your plates themselves, taking you by the arm as they tour your family around their house way ahead of everyone.

Mr. Jeon gushes to your dad how they have a pond out back and invites him to accompany him next week to buy fish for their deck, Jungkook’s dad insisting that he drives the two of them and they can go for street food right after.

Jungkook takes pride in touring around your mom and your older siblings by proudly introducing them to the other visitors, all along the lines of how you’re all basically like family ever since they’ve moved in next door to your family, their humble beginnings in the form of their original house where they started from scratch.

You stand meekly by the corner, against one of the towering pillars as you watch everyone interact with each other. One thing about the Jeon family is that they’re just the type of successful no one could ever be bitter of because they’re immensely kind and genuine, not a trace of bitterness being seen in any of the faces you see.

You know the last thing you should be feeling at the moment is displacement because as far as you knew, your family’s the talk of the household right after the hosts’. You should know out of all people that you belong in this environment that’s nothing short of familial and supportive, but it’s unavoidable.

It’s unavoidable because you see exactly why Jungkook doesn’t need you.

It’s inevitable to feel out of place because in yet another house that serves as a home for Jungkook, you realize why he finds no need nor significance in having a soulmate because he has everything he needs and more.

He has everything that completes him and balances him perfectly. He stands on his own two feet and is able to be happy without knowing who the universe has assigned for him. He lives and breathes without knowing you and it’s perfectly okay.

It’s perfectly okay for him to not want you and only live for himself because he doesn’t owe you at all.

Jungkook doesn’t owe you the love that you give him and that’s perfectly okay.

Everything should be perfectly okay because he is and yet you don’t know why your eyes are downcast despite everyone else around moving on without you. No one owes you anything and you should know better than to even voice the tiniest bit of sentiments you’ve been repressing all this time because the hurt you feel should only be yours.

All the while, you’re oblivious to how you’ve gained the attention of the woman who knows Jungkook the most before you.

“It’s Jungkook, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Jeon stands before you and your eyes flit to hers in an instant, pupils trembling to see what she could possibly mean.

You think you could salvage the pitiful situation she’s caught you in because of course, there’s no possible way that she could know, right? Even your own family doesn’t know of the initials that are inked on your finger and they’re your own flesh and blood. If anything, they should be the one who’d figure it out first.

The lie you were supposed to tell her gets caught in your throat because from her gaze alone, the same gaze you receive when Hoseok speaks you the truths you always try and make excuses for, you know that she knows.

Mrs. Jeon sees right through you before Jungkook and the realization crosses her face that the two of you only stand parallel.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, the dots connecting in her head much faster even if it’s years worth of all her intuitions, the gravity of it only hitting her now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You quickly shake your head even if she holds your hands in hers, her eyes wide and glassy to see her son’s soulmate in this light. She’s always treated you as a daughter and at first, she thought it’s because she only has a son. That maybe it’s because Jungkook’s an only child and she’s always wanted a daughter figure in her life. That maybe, she just happens to love you more than any of the daughters her friends have because she’s known you the longest.

She feels so remorseful that she should’ve listened to her instincts more and not just glaze over the fact that perhaps, you were her son’s soulmate. She feels that maybe she could’ve protected you better by saying that sooner or later, Jungkook would outgrow his phase of sleeping around.

She’s not blind to see the makeup that covers her son’s neck whenever she comes over, no matter how seamless it is. However, she’s blind enough to not see that it’s you all this time and how you’ve been hurting far longer than you should’ve.

“But what about you? What happens to you?”

“I’ll be okay, mom.”

She told you to call her that, much like how your mother insisted that Jungkook calls her that too. You reassure her endlessly that she shouldn’t feel sorry at all because it’s no one’s fault, and if it’s anyone whose blame should befall on, it should be you.

“Why did it have to be you?” her lip blubbers and it reminds you of her son, seeing her clench her eyes at the second wave of realization that you must be so hurt beyond salvation. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You don’t deserve the apology but hearing it makes you awed, your own tears welling at your eyes because for once, even if it’s the person you’ve least expected to say it to you, you feel seen. You feel remorse and pity without being looked down on; something you haven’t been able to experience in a long time.

“You deserve someone better than Jungkook.”

She looks up as if it would resolve anything. Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s begging for the universe to befall and it catches you off-guard with how she’s hugging you so tightly.

If she prayed to the universe for a short second, then the universe must’ve loved her enough to grant whatever it is that she wished for. The universe doesn’t befall on you but rather, it marches up to you with a furrow in his brow and his jaw clenched.

“What do you mean better than me?”

Jungkook didn’t mean to eavesdrop in the first place but he couldn’t hold himself back from inserting himself into the conversation that two of the most important women in his life were having, thinking it would be something he’s familiar with given the way the two of you looked shellshocked at each other.

“What are you talking about?”

He harshly whispers and neither of you meet his desperate gaze, not one bit of reassurance trying to confirm nor deny what he had just heard. He looks at his mother clutching your hands, thumb particularly rubbing your signet ring like how she would with a wound to soothe.

The realization and the heaviness that come with it are unlike no other.

“In my room now.”

Jungkook seethes as he doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling you desperately upstairs. He’s fuming even if his grasp on your wrist is gentle. He’s furious at you even if he nudges you inside his room, closing the door behind him firmer than he’d ever think of.

“Jungkook-“

“You are so fucking evil.”

What you could only see at the surface is that he’s mad, the maddest you’ve ever seen him. You don’t know if he’s mad at you directly but you feel the bite of his words nonetheless, catching you in surprise that you stutter.

“W-what?”

His expression can’t be gauged and neither can he discern what he feels. All he feels is that he’s in the dark and he’s disoriented with how blinding the light is that’s focused on him now, voice turning hoarse with how overwhelmed he feels.

“How long have you known? How long were you lying to me, huh?” he has his hands on his hips, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before and all he knows is that he’s angry at you. It feels like he doesn’t know you besides the outline of you that blindsides him. “How many people know that it’s me? How did it happen that my mother knew that I’m your soulmate before I did?”

You’re mad at him too. You’re angry at him because he speaks down to you in the way as if he doesn’t know you and all you’ve done to him is hurt him when not once did you betray him to be treated hostile as such. All you’ve done is give and it feels like Jungkook’s asking you to give him the satisfaction of being angry at you, one that he feels entitled to.

“I didn’t let you know because you didn’t want to. You’ve said it yourself a hundred times!”

“How would I have known that my fucking soulmate was standing in front of me the whole time?” he raises his voice, eyes widening. “Almost my whole life, Y/N! You knew and you didn’t even question my beliefs once?”

“And I know you don’t love me for almost as long as my whole life too. Even if I told you, it wouldn’t have made a difference. You wanted to be free and I let you!”

He scoffs, throwing his head back to mock you. He’s never the one to cry when arguing but the frustration wells up in his eyes because it all feels too much.

“So now you’re holding your heroic act against me? You already know how I feel about soulmates. You already know what I don’t feel about you! You could’ve just left and I would’ve understood!”

“No, Jungkook. You wouldn’t have understood,” your finger points at him and you don’t feel the slightest bit of remorse that you’ve offended him. “You wouldn’t have understood because not once were you in my shoes. I didn’t leave you because you didn’t want me to leave!”

Jungkook would make you cross your heart multiple times for you to never leave him. You were older than him by a few months and at one point, Jungkook must’ve looked up to you. He would’ve made you cross your heart to not leave him in the playground as kids and to not leave him to eat alone at lunch as students. He made you cross your heart to not leave him for longer than necessary as roommates, and cross your heart to lock your doors so he’d be able to sleep securely at night that nothing and nobody can harm you.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have wanted you to leave,” he grits his teeth, looking at you menacingly with stray tears on his cheeks. “But when I said that, I meant that in the sense that you shouldn’t ever leave your best friend.”

“You could’ve left me as a soulmate and I would be okay, Y/N,” Jungkook emphasizes and it’s not lost on you what he’s asking from you now. “But you’re still here! You’re still around me and it’s like you’re expecting me to love you back!”

You’re flawed but you know better than to let Jungkook construct his own truths that the both of you know are lies, persistently shaking your head as your eyes prick in frustration.

“I would never force you to love me back and you know it, Jungkook.”

You mean it with every fiber in your being because it’s tattooed into your mind that he doesn’t owe you anything at all. You love Jungkook simply because you do and you don’t expect it to be requited.

You mean it genuinely when you say that not once have you ever pressured him to love you back but it falls on deaf ears because he goes on, no matter how much you try to get it through his mind.

“I don't have to love you. Goddamn it Y/N, atleast give me a choice here. Don't just chain me to you!"

You resist the urge to grip at your hair as you cry, sobbing frustratedly. His words no longer hurt but what instead hurts you is that he makes you out for someone who isn’t you, the little pride you have left forcing you to stand up for yourself and become rational. “Hey, hey. Listen. Two people can be soulmates and not be in love with each other, y'know? That's possible."

“It’s not-“

“I’m already in love with you, Jungkook! That's the problem!”

You burst as you raise your voice and the little moment of calm gets washed away because Jungkook retaliates even louder, his chest heaving as he points at himself.

“I’m the problem now? You've been begging me all this time to love you back, and now I’m the problem?"

“You're not getting my point, Jungkook!"

“I’m really not getting your point here because you're making it sound like it's my fault that you love me!"

You try to breathe deeply, running your hands through your hair as the words slip out of you. “Maybe it's your fault, have you ever thought about that? You act as if you love me-"

“What the fuck? I’m kind, Y/N. Being kind is different from-"

“Best friends don’t-“

The words get lost on your tongue.

You stop yourself and it’s as if one seed of clarity plants itself in your mind, the sudden silence making Jungkook cease the heaving of his chest as none of you speak a word.

You’re flawed but this is the only time you feel that it’s fine to be as such, figuring that if you want to salvage the tiny bit of whatever compassion you have for yourself, you should no longer try. The tensions melts away from your shoulders and Jungkook feels the way the atmosphere once again changes before he knows it, wide eyes trying to gauge what exactly is happening.

“I’ll stop — cross my heart.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s your university’s semestral break for the holidays and throughout the entire time, you haven’t contacted him.

You don’t contact him even when it’s the day before Christmas and there’s two minutes left on the clock before it’s the 25th.

The two of you are apart this time. You’re in your childhood home while his family stays over in their new vacation house. His parents miss your family beyond measure but they’d overheard your fight and decided that maybe having a different celebration this year, one that’s only the three of them even if it’s not as boisterous and fun being with your household, is for the better.

The wound’s still fresh. The sting’s still there and it’s barely healing.

That’s why Jungkook sends you a quick series of texts before his family feasts without you.

i’m sorry for the things i’ve said, i was really rude

i don’t want to lose you

happy holidays btw, we miss you

see you after break :)

( ♡ )

It’s like it never happened.

It’s like Jungkook didn’t cry himself to sleep and feel extremely lethargic because as soon as break was over and the two of you are back into your shared apartment, you act normal.

You act as if nothing changed and it drives him out of his mind for you to be so casual despite everything because it’s like this time, he’s the only who’s affected by the entire situation that’s unfolded. The two of you’ve already exchanged apologies and reassurances that you’d move on collectively but now that he thinks about it, Jungkook never should’ve agreed to move on.

He never should’ve agreed to move on because out of the two of you, you’re the only one who isn’t on a standstill.

He’s distraught that even if it’s the same scenario and scenery before the two of you even blew over, you move on from him faster than he thought you could. Jungkook almost cried himself to sleep when you weren’t home by 9 PM from your classes and you looked genuinely confused to see him pacing by the kitchen, waiting for you to come home.

He feels like he’s losing it by the minute when you wake up by yourself and not without his incessant knocking that you’d be late for class if you stay in bed for a minute longer.

His heart feels like it’s about to break down when you don’t call him over to say hi whenever your parents call you, only getting to hear your conversations through the door as he suddenly feels that he’s excluded from all the things he shares with you.

He reminds himself that he wanted this. He reminds himself that he said he wanted you to leave during his family’s housewarming party, that he then retracts his statement and said he didn’t want to lose you over the holidays, and that all throughout the years he’s been with you — he’s never wanted you.

Jungkook reminds himself that he’s still with you.

He’s still with you, that much he knows.

He just isn’t sure if you’re still with him.

( ♡ )

Jungkook didn’t expect for this to hurt so bad.

He didn’t expect to be so lost into his thoughts that he couldn’t sleep in his room and marches right outside the living room wearing a new pair of socks that he didn’t expect to be this slippery, not registering into his mind that he’s done household chores the whole day to keep his mind preoccupied and that the hardwood floors are squeaky clean with wax.

He didn’t expect that he’d slip and fall on his arm painfully that it makes him wince, groaning at the impact of his body weight crushing his arm and for such a striking pain to travel to his elbow all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Jungkook didn’t expect for it to hurt this much because you don’t come out of your room to help him and he can’t take it, frustrated as he can’t get up that he does nothing but yell out your name multiple times.

All his calls for you effectively summoned you out but you’re more confused than you are panicked, a gasp leaving your lips when you see him lying in pain on the floor.

“What happened to you?” you ask in worry as you try to pull him up without hurting him, making him wince while trying to answer your question nonetheless.

“Huh?” he lets you carry him up to sit him down the couch for the meantime, assessing just how bad his fracture looks like to see if you’d have to drive him to the hospital. “What do you mean? Didn’t you feel the pain?”

Jungkook knows about the red string of pull and his eyes blink twice in confusion because you only realize what he’s talking about belatedly, the genuine confusion in your face making him swallow the lump in his throat.

“Oh. I didn't feel it. There wasn't a pull."

“Stop joking with me."

He clenches his jaw at how you could manage to play with him over such an important matter, even more baffled when you defensively shake your head and even breathlessly laugh.

“I’m not, Kook! I swear, I really didn't."

“Bullshit,” he rolls his eyes casually, deadpanning at you with a gasp emerging from his lips. “You knew I broke my arm and intentionally didn't help me!”

“Jungkook, I swear on my life,” he sees you hold up your hand in the air in a promise, tiny giggles of disbelief leaving you as he genuinely can’t understand where exactly is the humor you find in this.

He purses his lips and tries to look deeper for anything in your eyes that give you away even the slightest bit, pointing at your ring. “Take it off."

He watches intently the way surprise sweeps across your features and he thinks for a second that you’re just lying to him — you wouldn’t really take off your ring because doing so would confirm his hopes that it’s his same initials with the same vivid shade of red, right?

But you do it nonetheless.

Truth be told you’ve only removed your ring once since the incident because you didn’t want to be reminded of whose initials were underneath it, but it surprises you that your compliance gets the better of you and you take it off from him.

Jungkook’s stare falters to see the very thing he’s asked for.

What he could only make out clearly now is the J in the middle of his first and last initial, the two other letters clearly not as prominent. You’re shocked to see the difference from when you last saw your mark, the first J and K by your ring finger fading in contrast.

“You can’t — is this true?” he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat painfully, taking your finger into his own hands that he barely winces using his other arm, rubbing his thumb against your skin to see if it was just some trick. “Surely you can’t spell my name without the jeon and the kook, right?”

His breathing is too heavy and you don’t speak either. The two of you have heard about this once when you were children from both of your mothers, all blissfully too young and unaware to consider the possibility that it might just happen to the two of you.

“About the mark-…”

“My mom said-…”

The two of you pipe up at the same time but Jungkook lets you go first because even if you haven’t spoken at the same time as he did, he wouldn’t have been able to finish what he was supposed to say.

You say your next words honestly, in a gentle and soft voice but it lands loud and disruptive to Jungkook’s ears, making him want to clamp his ears shut because he refuses to believe.

“It could be because the universe is reassigning me a new soulmate.”

“Y-yeah,” he clears his throat as if it would stop the tears that are threatening to fall on his cheeks, looking down on his lap as he unconsciously hunches on himself. “I remember our moms saying this when we were kids.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in recollection, pointing to him eagerly because the two of you are at the same page. “I asked my mom about a week ago then an hour later, I got put into a groupchat with all the moms of the friends that I have."

Jungkook weakly snorts to match your energy because he’s weak. He’s too weak to raise his head to face how you’re so nonchalant about this and this time, it’s him who’s hurting so badly.

“Everyone's bets are on PJM — Park Jimin! Who would’ve known, right? The J initial makes sense."

Jimin, a family friend of a family friend.

Jimin, the one kid in preschool that always wowed the parents and the teachers because he talks like how a fourth-grader would and knows how to do addition with the carrying.

Jimin, a distant friend who studied abroad for college and whose news broke out that he’s coming back home during his break and plans to settle here in your city.

Jimin, someone who’s theorized to replace Jungkook.

“Don't even joke about that. I’m serious,” he mumbles under his breath and the croak of his voice gives him away, suddenly standing up from the couch and forgetting about his physical pain entirely, bidding you a quiet good night that he could only know is not something that he’d be getting underneath this dark.

“I’m gonna go to sleep."

( ♡ )

Jungkook wishes that his eyesight wasn’t so clear.

He wishes he didn’t heed his mother’s warnings of not looking at screens for too long too closely and his father’s insistence that he takes his vegetables and vitamins.

He wishes that his vision is poor because in that way, he wouldn’t be able to notice how the silver that’s against your skin looks different; how he couldn’t tell that it’s shine isn’t the same that he’s used to seeing and how it’s no longer the signet ring that looks like the same piece that he wears on your ring finger.

“Did you change your ring?"

He asks you one morning when you’re making breakfast. He memorizes seeing the furrow in your brows and the realization in your face as you look down on your hand, his words clicking into your head in understanding.

“Oh yeah, I did.”

Your ring’s now of a thicker design with intricate details and swirls, the band of it seemingly molded into decorative crosses. It looks heavy and of high-quality and Jungkook’s certain that your ring’s more expensive this time, clueless to where and when you got it.

The groove of the silver reminds him of the letter P, and his mind goes to Jimin’s family name instantaneously — and it makes Jungkook pray that he’d rather have his vision tainted than to ever see it on your skin.

( ♡ )

“Where are you going this early in the morning?”

Jungkook can’t bear to sleep in his bedroom anymore nowadays because it feels to confined, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts and insecurities which is why he chooses to sleep in the living room where it’s open and he has everywhere else to look at besides his ceiling.

He hasn’t even been sleeping well in the first place which is why he’s alert from his shallow nap when your door clicks open and he sees you already bathed and dressed.

“My dad told me to join him fishing,” you answer when you move on from the surprise he’s given you, releasing the hand from your chest as you calm down. “He’s fishing with Jimin’s dad.”

You’re too busy packing snacks that you don’t register how there’s pillows and blankets on the couch because Jungkook sleeps out here nowadays, compared to your assumptions that he’s just gaming or doing his assignments. Your back is turned to him which is why you don’t notice his face that looks crestfallen at your further explanation, heart sinking in thought.

“Oh,” he stabilizes his voice as best as he could, eyes set at the back of your head as he tries not to give himself away. “Would Jimin be there?”

“Not sure. I’ll see when I get there.”

He nods once, biting on his lip as he tries again.

“Is my dad coming with?”

“O-oh,” the realization crosses your mind that your dad’s companion when it comes to fishing and perhaps any other activity is Mr. Jeon, only hitting you now that you haven’t heard the mention of his name. “I honestly don’t know.”

That’s the thing of both your dads and Jungkook aches at the thought if his time is over. If his family’s time is over with yours. If it’s too late and the ink on your finger can no longer be traced back to him.

If it’s still him.

“Drive safe, m’kay? Call me when you need me.”

You don’t approach him for a goodbye hug and he feels too odd to only keep to himself as you leave out the door, not looking back even once.

Call me even if you don’t need me.

The words only remain on his tongue because speaking it out loud is pointless. It’s pathetic to be said out in the open because you aren’t there for him to look like a fool in front of. He looks pathetic as he waits for you.

It’s because you don’t call him throughout the day to ask if he’s already brought out the meat to defrost for his lunch or what he wants for dinner because you’re ordering on the way home. It’s because you don’t tell him to text you repeatedly so you wouldn’t fall asleep in traffic and miss out on your dad’s banter. It’s because even if he doesn’t need anything from you; even if you aren’t willing to give and he’s eager to take —

Jungkook will always need you.

( ♡ )

The pain Jungkook feels in his bones simmers before it bubbles over.

It marinates and lulls into his skin warmly before it stings. It’s a soothing type of heat that he mistakes for tension before it starts to sting. The pain he feels in his heart all the way down to the pit of his stomach stings before it boils and bubbles at his skin.

The pain he feels burns him unlike no other.

It’s the type of hurt he feels that no matter how much he rubs at his skin and cries his eyes out, it doesn’t relieve him even the slightest bit. He doesn’t feel the calmness when he goes through every single thing that used to soothe him before, every chance at salvation only for the pain to burn deeper making him more frustrated than the last.

Jungkook cries his eyes out every night and he thinks he’s exhausted all the tears out of himself because he finds himself knocking on your door, waiting for you to grant him entrance as he keeps his breathing at bay.

It’s late at night when you’re buried into doing your requirements that you tumble out of your chair to open the door for Jungkook, figuring that it must be an emergency with the way his knocks are desperate.

His eyes land on you the moment you open the door for him, words crawling out of his mouth as he pleads.

“Let me kiss you."

He’s no stranger to the confusion in your face and it feels as if nothing from the two of you would surprise each other at this point. He knows you’re tired and busy but he can’t stop himself to just reserve what he feels tonight and save it for the morning.

Your mouth flounders in wonder, closing it when you figure that nothing else would be lost from you.

You let Jungkook kiss you.

You taste as sweet as Jungkook thought for you to be and more and he cries. He cries as you allow him to kiss you for the first time and let him knock his forehead against yours as his cheeks are damp with despair, eyes looking down on your finger instinctively.

You know exactly what he’s looking at and it makes you sigh solemnly, pressing your knuckles against your sheets so he wouldn’t be able to see.

“Jungkook-…”

Jungkook refuses to give up because this time, he interrupts you with an even deeper kiss that you accidentally moan into, lost into your senses by the surprise that it makes your eyes close.

He tastes you deeper and longer and he feels like he can’t breathe, inhales feeling heavier and his exhales being fewer that you have to put a hand on his chest to nudge him away from you, a pitiful look spanning across your eyes that makes him shut his.

“Kissing me harder isn't gonna help.”

His initials on your finger don’t magically turn more vibrant, more alive. He thinks he’s exhausted every single tear he could possibly cry but it’s seemingly not over, sobbing into his hands right in front of you.

“Why are you not freaked out that your mark's disappearing?! It's changing! I-it might not even be me anymore!”

Jungkook sobs brokenly when he used to not be able to even have his voice tremble at your presence. His shoulders hunch and give out and you have no choice but to catch him with your hands, fearing that he’d tumble out of the edge of your bed and fall on the floor.

“I thought you wanted this. I’m not consciously controlling this, Jungkook. It's just the same when you had no control of your mark not appearing on you."

His words haven’t left you but so is the remaining little love you have for him, knowing realistically that a single night of confrontation isn’t enough to undo years of loving.

“It's on me now. I-It's showing up on me, but it's disappearing from you."

His sobs wrack his own body and you think for a moment that he’s about to pass out with how much he coughs from getting choked up, springing more tears into his eyes as he feels like puking.

“You started to accept it when I started revoking it."

You mumble to yourself in realization and what pains him is that he’s heard it loud and clear, crumpling into your figure as you unconsciously realize that your hand soothes his back.

Jungkook cries the most in his lifetime, tucking his face into your shirt as he shakes his head back and forth like it was a nightmare he’s just forced to live out, words repeating over and over again.

“Don't shut me out."

He clings onto you more than he’s ever had.

Jungkook looks for you in everything and tries to weasel his way into every day that passes, not the least bit of embarrassment creeping up to him on how he looks like a fool every time you leave him hanging and alone.

He apologizes to you day and night until you grow tired of him; until you roll your eyes at him to give it a rest and just shut up at that point onwards.

He endures the hurt and the rejection you give him over and over again; not even going up to par with half of the hurt he’s unknowingly given you all this time.

Jungkook knows he’s flawed — but he’s certain that he’s not flawed enough to stop trying.

He wakes up to the morning light and goes to sleep at the evening glow with only the prayer that he becomes better, better enough to be deserving of you and better enough to be someone the universe would shift connections for.

He’s flawed, but not flawed enough to think that you owe him your love, regardless of his efforts.

The days are warmer and the gaps are fuller when there’s an incessant knocking on your door. The lights are softer and the nights are kinder when there’s a figure that wedges itself beside your bed, a quiet hum to his voice.

“I told you to start locking your doors.”

Jungkook feels the tiny exhale of breath that leaves you before it turns into a giggle, hugging your pillow closer.

“But it’s you.”

He smiles.

“But it’s me.”

Jungkook lies next to you a little closer, his arms bigger compared to the last months that he now manages to cage you fully and have his hands be able to cup yours without having to stretch further.

There’s nothing cool to the touch because nowadays, you let your ring finger breathe as much as he lets his own mark to be seen.

“There are three types of love, y’know?” he hums to your ear when he knows you’re just about to be lulled back to your sleep, able to see you clearly in the dark because no matter what light the both if you are underneath in, he only sees you.

“I was your first, right? Jimin's the second, I’m sure,” he breathily laughs, taking away the hair from your nape because he knows that it bothers you. “I can be the third. I-I can be your third love. I’ll work for it."

For only a second too long that it’s quiet, your voice cutting through the air.

“You can't be my third love, Jungkook,” you hum just as long as his heart stops beating. “You're my only love."

Your eyes are still closed when you silently profess the love that’s never left you, oblivious to how Jungkook is as stiff as concrete behind you that you feel his shoulders lose the hurt immediately. “I’ve loved you three times through."

Jungkook could only hope that it’s not the sleep talking.

He knows you’re real beyond anything and anyone. You’re tangible and fragile and he’s come to learn it a thousand times more. “I’ll love you three times more."

For the longest time on end did Jungkook feel that he’s been falling but the impact never comes. He would’ve wanted to feel it, but either way, he’d know that it would be fine. That he would be fine. That the two of you will be fine and it’s you who he entrusts to spend all of his infinites with, no matter the hurt.

“I love you more than you'll ever know.”

How to Make Him Cum 101 (M)

Summary: You’ll love each other in sickness and health, hungover or hangry, sexless or… well, it’s becoming a little harder for the pants to stay on despite the calls of ‘let’s take this slow’ on the first date.

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

Genre: University AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst (tiny bit), Crack

Warnings: (Plenty my friend) Handjob, Fingering, Squirting, Sex without protection, Tongue fucking, Jungkook being whipped, Chocking (brief), Dry Humping, Jungkook cumming in his pants, lots of swearing, lots of alcohol consumption, consumption of weed

Word Count: 15k (it was meant to be 10k, but I fucked it)

A/N: I love Jungkook in this, he’s a sweetheart who has no fucking idea what he’s doing. Took me way too long to write this and I’m sorry if it drags, but I split it into little scenes to make it more manageable. It’s also pretty casual - no real storyline. Enjoy and suggestions always welcome x

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