Dear Koo | Teaser

Dear Koo | Teaser

➪ Pairing: penpal Jungkook x female reader 

➪ Synopsis: Dear Koo is an advice column for all of y/n's confessions, questions, and delusions. A safe haven for her inevitable cries for help as she navigates through adulthood. Who is the lucky know-it-all on the other side of the line, you might ask? Well, it's none other than Mr. Jeon Jungkook, the president of the Lovers Club and the boy who had cared for her since their diaper days. After moving abroad for his studies, Jungkook vowed to keep in touch by creating this submission box. "I'm just one Dear Koo away, y/n,"

➪ Genre: platonic relationship, fluff, childhood best friends, coming-of-age

Just an fyi I changed the title and banner of my upcoming fic bc I didn't think the old one fit the plot hehehe ;) But rest assured, I have other plans for Tell Me Pretty Lies~~

new

old

If 3D Jungkook has no fans then I have died

3D - Jungkook

Like a Hostage

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

⇢ warning: explicit language, mentions of rape, physical abuse, emotional abuse, drug use, alcohol use, and suicide. ⇢ w.c: 4.5k

Spending the rainy Friday at home, Jungkook browsed through the list of recently added movies on Netflix before clicking the one with the most viewer votes. And, as you rested your legs on his lap, the two of you shared a warm glance once his hands naturally began massaging your toes, careful with the bruise on your ankle. One that you comedically earned from your skiing accident, where you overestimated your skills or better the lack of them and dared to race your athlete-build boyfriend. Needless to say, despite giving you a headstart, you found yourself dumbfounded in his embrace after an innocent rabbit scare led to your crash into a nearby snow pile. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, palm gently hovering over the purple hues. 

“Not really. I’ve been using that cream you gave me,” you replied with a soft smile, drawing circles on his tattooed forearm. 

“Next time, let's verse in something that won’t leave you in a cast, mmhh?” Jungkook teased, placing a gentle peck on your hand before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

Diverting your attention back to the screen, your sleepy gaze suddenly widened as the camera panned closer to the female lead's naked body during a steamy shower scene. Flinching at the visuals you stare at the ceiling, awkwardly fumbling with the rings on your fingers before Jungkook notices your tension, quickly skipping over the intimate parts. 

“Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked quietly, glancing down at your flushed state. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Baby, what's on your mind? Tell me,” he leaned in closer, tucking a few stray hairs out of your face. 

“Nothing, it's stupid,” you managed to form somewhat of a reassuring smile before glancing back at his sly grin. 

See, you’ve always wanted to save yourself for marriage, and while the decision didn’t stem from religious beliefs or values it was significantly fueled by your desire to have control over your life. At least some parts of it. If it was up to you, in a perfect world where children were born into love, you wouldn’t be consumed by the dreadful shame of knowing that the bride’s side of the family would consist of only yourself. Since, once your parents left, so did the structure in your life as you tiptoed over the cracks in the weathering foundation, but now, the cards were in your hands. And, you were dedicated to the hope of blooming at your own pace and with the right person. However, to this day, somewhere deep in your subconscious, this tiny voice of doubt kept daunting your decision. Would it be fair for Jungkook if you starved him of your touch? How long would he be willing to withhold his lust until one day you were no longer worth it? 

“Oh, come on, don’t be shy. It’s natural. But, I guess now we know why this was the top pick. Horny bastards,” Jungkook chuckled, sneaking in a quick wink before resting his head on the couch. 

“Well, you must have thought about it, right?” your eyebrows furrowed, lifting your torso from the blanket cover. 

“About what?” 

“You know,” you murmured under your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks. 

“Have I thought about sex with you?” Jungkook’s voice deepened, hooded gaze slowly observing every inch of your exposed body. 

“Shhh, why are you so loud?” you yelped, hushing his lips with your index finger until his hold on your hand tightened, and with one swoop you were exactly where he wanted. On his lap. Lips inches apart. 

“Y/n, I think about you all the time.” he grinned, tracing the bottom of your pouty lips as your breath hitched in your throat. “Not, in a freaky, call 911, stalker type of way, but…” he leaned in closer. 

“I think about the heart-shaped vein on your eyelid …” he whispered into a soft kiss on your lid. 

“I think about the moon tattoo behind your ear …” shivers went down your spine as his teeth gently grazed your skin, hands roaming under your tank top. 

“I think about the little mole on your ring finger, and the way your baby hairs curl up after you come out of the shower,” Jungkook's eyes searched your fluttering gaze, the back of his palm gently stroking your cheek as you unconsciously melt into his touch. 

“No, you know, that’s almost exactly what a stalker would notice,” you teased, tightening your hold on his hand as he tried to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

“Oh, sweetpea, if only you could read the thoughts in my head,” he sighed, resting his forehead on yours before pulling you closer onto his lap. “But, I need you more than I want you,” his words echoed in your ears, playing over and over again like a broken record. 

There’s a difference between a need and a want. You might want it to stop raining because the humidity has been frizzing up your hair, but you need water to survive. Like it or not, without it, you’d be dead in three days. Shrivelled up like a raisin in the sun. In the same way, although the sexual attraction between you and Jungkook was obvious to the naked eye, there was a fine line between your want and need for each other. He might not be the best at showing it, but behind all that ink and muscle, was a lost boy who’s spent his life running from his past, in search of something that would make him fight for the future. So, as far as he’s concerned, as long as you were breathing, his life served a purpose. One to protect, love, and care for you and the battle scars that were left behind. To him, you were the water that the human body feared losing. 

Eyes flickering down to your lips, Jungkook smiled into a teasing kiss as your hands rested on his chest, burning tension depriving you of oxygen. He was gentle, hooded gaze searching your eyes for hints of discomfort. But your orbs were dark, infused with the craving for his touch, the need to be close, skin to skin, as one singularity. 

“Koo?” you whispered, softly pulling on his silver chains. 

“Yes, y/n,” he grinned, biting down on his bottom lip.  

“Can I?” you asked with a hesitant plead, hands gently caressing the side of his neck. 

“I’m all yours, love,” he whispered in your ear, unbuttoning his black dress shirt before tracing your fingers down his sculpted chest. 

Admiring the lust in your boyfriend’s eyes, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as your lips left a trail of needy kisses on his burning skin. Sucking on his soft spots, hushed moans escaped his parted lips as his grip on your thighs tightened. And, with a slow pace, your bodies fell in sync, grinding against the tempting friction. 

“Y/n?” Jungkook whispered, gently lifting you off his lap before laying you down on the sofa. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Can I?” his veiny hands trailed up your waistline, hooded gaze glancing up at the mess he created. But, despite giving him a nod of reassurance, he knew better than to go against your better judgment. Valuing your boundaries, he never wanted you to feel rushed, consumed by regret or questions of his intentions. So, he asked again, broad shoulders hovering over your form as his chains dangled inches away from your lips. 

“I need to hear you, baby,” 

“Yes, yes you can, Koo,” you giggled, pulling him into a long kiss, as his body layed on top of yours. 

Pinning your hands against the headrest, his warm touch embraced every crevice of your heaving chest, tossing your bra on the floor. And, as you laid under him, your eyes linked, fueling a kick of adrenaline spreading through your system. It was a bit of everything, all at once. The nerves, the pleasure and the aftermath. 

But, for now, your mind was solely consumed by the effect of his soft lips as they marked your collarbone in paints of purple possession, forcing you to dig deeper into his back. Enjoying the pain, echoes of Jungkook’s groans filled the dim room, admiring the way your back arched from the sensation as the friction between your sensitive heat and the evident bulge in his jeans became harder to ignore. 

“Baby, we have to stop,” he said with a furrowed gaze, tilting his head back as you watched the sweat roll down his heaving chest. 

“Did I do something wrong?” you quietly asked, covering yourself with his shirt. 

“If you do one more thing right, I won’t be able to pay for my actions,” Jungkook hushed your nerves with a sly wink before cuddling into your warm embrace, taking in the smell of the cherry-scented perfume that you wore on your first date. 

To him, it was so bluntly obvious that it was never about your body, your eyes or your sweet smile that made him fall in love. It was the way you made him feel at ease. The way you calmed the turbulence of chaos in his mind with a single touch, a single whisper of reassurance. When you were by his side, the world seemed a little less shitty. 

But, if it were really that simple, the story would’ve already ended. No? Yet, here we are. Anticipating the worst, not knowing the half of the abuse. Please don’t forget that love is bittersweet and when two souls are tethered by the heartstrings of their past, the fear of old pain could foreshadow the end.

“Mom?” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the dark corridor as he slowly pushed the unlocked door of his parent’s house. 

“Mom? It’s me, where are you?” he called out again, furrowed gaze scanning the surroundings for hints of life. Until whispers of his mother’s voice muffled from the haunting gloom leading up to the second floor. Attempting to turn on the lights, sparks of electricity burst through the living room chandelier, forcing Jungkook to resort to the flashlight on his phone. Careful with his steps, the creaking sound of the old wood accompanied his way up to his mother’s room where she sat on the edge of the bed, back facing the door. 

“Mom?”

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” she asked quietly without even a glance, wiping the dried tear stains off her lifeless face. 

“I … I wanted to remind you that y/n and I will be leaving town for a week. I mentioned it over the phone but thought it would be best if I came in person as well,” he explained, worried gaze lowered to the bruises on her wrists. They looked fresh, like the abuse happened recently. And judging by the state of the room, the chances of it happening were high, as the floor remained witness to the littered bottles of antidepressants and liquor. 

“Mom, is everything alright? Did you and Dad fight again?” Jungkook asked, kneeling in front of his mother’s still form before she abruptly pulled her knees to her chest, scooching further away from his touch as her widened eyes stared back at his. 

“That stupid bitch. I never liked her, always hogged you like a slut.” she cried out in frustration, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, go ahead. Leave, for all I care. Let your father beat me to death but don’t come crying back when I’m finally gone.” the rage in her voice grew stronger with each word, bitting down the tears before her bloodshot eyes lowered again. 

She knew y/n was never the problem, but it was easier to be angry at people than to tell them that you’re hurting. So, that’s exactly what she learned to do, all she grew to know. She became angry at the world, at the guilty and the innocent. Leaving Jungkook as her weakness, the one person in her life that she wasn’t able to give up even if that meant losing herself to the abuse of her husband. But, the more time Jungkook spent with y/n, the less time he had to protect his mother. So, he became a buffer, neutralizing the flames that slowly burned down his family tree. However, in doing so, he developed a fear of commitment, unable to give someone his all when the desperate cries for help beating from his mother’s chest grew to consume him. 

“It’s me or her, son,” her voice trembled, hands reaching for his as Jungkook’s head rested on the edge of the bed. 

“But why? Why do I have to choose? Why can’t you let me have one thing for myself? Wasn’t Jieun’s death enough?” he cried out, choking on the tears that rolled down his face. 

“Don’t you dare bring up your sister,” 

“Why not? If it weren’t for your guys' constant fights she wouldn’t have jumped. Jieun-ie would still be here, with me,” Jungkook’s voice broke down, furrowed gaze hidden behind his trembling hands before he was brought back to that night. The night his world turned upside down. The night his little sister plumaged to her death, leaving behind a void in his heart that no one has been able to heal. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” his mother’s voice pierced through his dwelling, as her cold gaze glanced out the window with not one hint of remorse. 

“Then explain it to me,”

“I can’t. It’ll only make you hate you more,” 

“Try me,” Jungkook scoffed, resting his head on the window frame beside her. 

“She was raped. Your father raped Jieun … and when she tried to call the police … he threatened to shoot me. That night, when you went out to your friend’s house, two officers knocked on our door with suspicion of abuse. But, your father was a powerful man and a good liar at that, so, he demanded a warrant unless they wanted to settle everything in court. And, after they left we had a big fight, he wouldn’t stop, nothing could stop the rage in his eyes. I tried pleading with him, to let Jieun leave so she wouldn’t have to hear me scream because I was ashamed. But, he wouldn’t let that happen, he wanted to punish her for going against him. So, she heard everything and died because of the guilt.” his mother’s voice broke down into a whisper as she struggled to breathe, feeling the tightness in her throat. 

“Mom!” Jungkook pulled her behind him, as the door suddenly slammed open, revealing the daunting silhouette of his father. Who was, naturally, drunken out of his mind. The smell of alcohol travelling with his steps, as he inched closer to their still bodies. 

“Finally came back home, son?” he grinned, opening up his arms as a welcome back hug. 

“Don’t call me that.” Jungkook hissed, feeling his mother’s hands tighten their hold on his jacket as her panic kicked in. 

“What did she tell you?” the man growled, dropping the fake smile as his furrowed gaze pierced through her hideout. 

“Don’t you dare to come closer.” Jungkook threatened, slowly moving back before they hit a wall. 

“Or what?” his father sneered maniacally with a raised brow and a slight head tilt, plunging onto Jungkook with his fists in the air. Squeezing her eyes shut, the woman flinched behind her son’s broad shoulders as the sound of shattering glass suddenly echoed in her ear. Watching the blood run down his veiny hands, Jungkook pushed the glass deeper into his father’s chest, darkened orbs staring into his lifeless state. And, although he knew his father’s heart stopped beating, Jungkook wanted him to last longer, to feel the pain spread through his body until it was humanly unbearable. He wanted to abuse his power the way his father abused his mother. He wanted to get justice for Jieun.

Wrapping his tie around the cut on his hand, Jungkook pressed the button to your floor before resting his head on the elevator door. He didn’t know where else to go, or frankly, what else to do. There’s only so much that one could take in one night, yet, it felt like his whole life flashed by, unleashing a tide of old pain that evolved into new trauma. Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought to himself, zipping up his bomber jacket to cover up the blood stains on his shirt as the elevator door opened. Walking down the dimly lit corridor, his head felt heavy, vision slowly blurring out of focus until he heard your voice, furrowed gaze glancing up at a man in your doorway. 

“Anyways, thank you so … oh, Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you gasped, smile slowly fading after you noticed that his attention remained on your friend who awkwardly waved back at Jungkook’s burning glare. 

“Hate to interrupt,” Jungkoook hissed, tongue poking the side of his cheek as he bumped past the guy before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

“Koo?” you asked hushly, looking up at his welled-up eyes that flickered down to your lips as your hands rested on his chest.  

“Who was that, y/n?” he whispered breathlessly.

“That’s Mino, he’s my neighbour. My wifi started acting up, so I asked if he could help,” your words trailed off into silence, waiting for his reaction.

“Why didn’t you ask me?” 

“I called but you didn’t pick up, so I thought you were busy. I’m sorry …” your gaze slowly lowered, hands fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. 

“No, I’m sorry. I got caught up with some stuff,” Jungkook sighed, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand before pulling you into a hug, feeling the tension melt by your touch.

“Hey, what happened to your hand?” 

“Just a little cut, it doesn’t matter. Now, how about I take you for a little ride, mmhm?” he winked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as your fingers intertwined. 

Securing your helmet, Jungkook kissed the mole on your ring finger before pulling your hands around his waist. Starting up the engine, he glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin as you flinched, startled by the sound of his motorcycle. 

“Do you trust me, y/n?” 

“Hypothetically,” you laughed nervously, tightening your hold around his waist as he drove out of your apartment complex. The time was reaching midnight but the bright hues of Seoul’s nightlife kept the momentum going. Feeling the wind in your hair, chills ran down your spine as his speed increased. And, with each gear shift, faces in passing cars became harder and harder to make out. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you’re insane!” you screamed, helpless cries muffled by the pounding of his heart. He was insane. A murderer. Or was it self-defence? Nonetheless, it didn’t matter, because his life, the way he knew it, was already slipping through his fingers. Consumed by the darkness of his past. And you? Well, you were the last speck of brightness that kept him sane. So, he held onto the moment, keeping you close because it felt right. In hindsight, that’s all he ever wanted. You, were all he ever wanted. 

“Let’s go?” Jungkook said softly, hand reaching for yours as you walked down the bridge near the Han River. The same bridge where you first met. On the night that you thought would be your last. To this day, you could never figure out how he managed to be in the right place at the right time, seconds before your body sunk deep into the dark water. He saved you, but now, he’s the one who’s dying. 

“Koo?” you whispered, looking up at his pale face. 

“Mmhm,” 

“Thank you,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip to fight back the tears. 

“For what?” his worried gaze searched your fluttering eyes before stopping in his tracks. 

“For saving me,” you felt your breath hitch in your throat with each word. 

“Y/n …” Jungkook said, before tiny raindrops wet your skin. And, within seconds as the sudden lightning bolt struck the sky, it unleashed the wrath of a heavy pour. But, Jungkook didn’t seem to mind it, pulling you into his chest as his hold on your shivering body tightened. 

“Koo, it’s raining. We should go,” you whispered softly, burying your face into his jacket. But, he didn’t reply. Barely moved. 

“Koo?” you asked again before looking up. His eyes were closed, brows knitted with tension.

“Please, y/n … just a little longer, let me hold you for a little longer,” he breathed out, gently caressing your hair as tears rolled down his face. And, for a moment, it felt like time stopped. For a moment, all he could feel was the beating of your heart, a glimpse of a future he felt unworthy of. Deep down, he knew that your love for each other was fragile. As if he could foreshadow the end, the way your feelings would eventually succumb to the pain and exhaustion of trying to win against every shortcoming that’s been thrown at your shared path. 

So, as he laid you down onto the soft duvet of your bed, your glossy eyes sparkled under the moonlight. Reaching for his hand, you looked up at his hollow gaze. 

“Aren’t you going to lie down?” you asked. 

“I should go,” Jungkook replied, caressing your hand with his thumb before slowly letting it go. 

“Please don’t. I’m asking you,” you plead, lifting the duvet before clearing up his side of your bed. 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” your lips trembled, cuddling into his warm embrace as your hands intertwined. 

“Always,” he whispered, biting back the tears before placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

And, although he said exactly what you wanted to hear, you layed on his chest knowing that this time, something was different. His touch was cold, lifeless even. Something in him has switched and it killed you to wonder where it all went wrong. Like pieces of shattered glass, the two of you reflected each other's weaknesses, connected by the heartstrings of predisposed despair. 

Watching you sleep, Jungkook rested his head on yours, closing his eyes for a moment until his phone buzzed. Reaching for the nightstand, he scrolled through all the missed calls from his mother. Who stayed back in the house, sitting on the floor, knees to her chest, watching the lifeless body of her husband surrounded by a pool of blood. Stuck in a state of shock, she didn’t know what to feel. It could have easily been her who was bleeding out, with her life cut short by the hands of her abuser. But, yet, again, Jungkook managed to be at the right place and at the right time. But, at what cost? Killing his father as an act of self-defence still puts him on the radar, and sooner or later the cops would want answers. The problem is that, when one lie gets out, everything else will follow. The abuse, the rape, the suicide, and the murder. 

So, Jungkook knew he had to leave. Now. But he couldn’t bear leaving you without a reason. So, he had to lie to protect your peace. Betray your trust and see the spark in your eyes slowly vanish. Make you feel worthless, like you weren’t enough. Pull on the strings of your breaking heart and step on the wounds that would hurt the most. Make you hate him enough to let go.

“Tell me,” you cried out, resting your aching head on the cold wall of his room.  

“What?” Jungkook sneered, furrowed gaze glancing at the tear stains on your face. It hurt. Hurting you, hurt him. 

“Tell me this was all a lie,” you yelled, kneeling down before him as your trembling hands reached for his. 

“You know I can’t, y/n,” he whispered, fighting back the tears. 

“Do you regret it? Please, say that you regret it,” you cried into his lap as his hands resisted the urge to comfort you, to hold you in his arms and tell you that it was going to be okay. Because in hindsight, it never was. 

“Would it matter if I did?” 

“Bullshit. You’re lying. I know you are. God, don’t you think I at least deserve to know the truth?” your pupils dilated, knitted brows raising at the sight of his empty glare. It was hollow. As if there was nothing behind those dark eyes. 

“Fucking hell, y/n. Are you even listening? I hurt you, and you still stayed. When will you get the hint?” Jungkook scoffed, pushing your hands off of him before slamming his fist on the nightstand. 

“When you grow the balls to admit that you’re scared of loving someone beyond fucking them. What you really couldn’t hold it in your pants?” you felt your throat tighten, finding it hard to breathe, even though you knew you couldn’t ask for his help. Because the person that was standing in front of you was no longer the one you used to know. There was nothing left of Koo. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n,” his voice broke down, glossy eyes looking back at your defeated self. 

“Whatever. I’m exhausted, Jungkook. Fights for us turned into fights with you. All I ever wanted was to be loved, and I truly thought that you out of all people would understand that,” you let out a deep sigh, wiping the tears off your face as quiet whimpers left your parted lips. 

“Y/n … where are you going? Please, don’t just leave,” he cried out, gulping down the pain of seeing how you looked at him. Like he was a stranger.  

“It’s okay, Koo. I finally got the hint,” she replied with a soft smile. 

“Y/n, if you walk out that door, we’ll never see each other again,” he sobbed with each step you took further away from him. 

“You know, that night, at the bridge, I was crying on your shoulder and you told me to live for you. But, I wish you would’ve just let me fall. Because, at least then, I knew for sure that the pain would only be temporary.” you glanced back for the last time, reminiscing all the memories that led up to this night, before closing the door behind you as your heart sank to your stomach.

“I still love you, I promise,” Jungkook’s whispers trailed off into a void. One that consumed his life ever since his sister died. And, one that will continue to do so, for nothing is as painful as love. In hindsight, it was all very clear, his broken soul knew who to love but not how to, always losing someone in sacrifice for another. While the cries of your bleeding heart knew how to love but never who, as you grew up alone, betrayed by the ones that were meant to be your everything.

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"I'd rip anything off you,"

“Y/n, are you still mad at me?” Junkook’s breathless voice echoes in the men’s washroom as the two of you exit the tiny stall. Chest heaving up, you run your fingers through your curls before wiping the smeared lipstick off of your face. 

“Why would I be? Mhm? I looove the sight of my ripped dress on the dirty floor,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as your arms fold over your chest which was left covered by the mere fabric of the lacy bra. Just a few minutes ago, you were so immersed in the pleasure of Jungkook’s slender fingers that it took you a good second to realize why you could suddenly feel the cool breeze all over your body. 

“To be fair, I’d rip anything off you,” he says softly, hands inching closer to your waist as his broad shoulders cage your form under him. Arms on either side of you, he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to meet your furrowed gaze before noticing the goosebumps covering your soft skin. 

“Koo …” you whisper, placing your hands on his blazer as his sly smirk slowly softens looking down at your doe eyes. It doesn’t take much for him to fold, just the innocence in your gaze is enough of a motive for him to lift your body onto the countertop. And, as your legs naturally spread apart, the tiny space between you two welcomes him in, as if reserved solely for his touch. 

“I’m sorry baby, you know I don’t do too well with sundresses,” Jungkook mumbles, tucking a few stray curls behind your ear before giving your pouty lips a quick peck. 

“Well, now what? I’m literally naked,” you chuckle from the disbelief, leaning back on the stained mirror. For some context, tonight is your friend’s big gallery exhibition and Jungkook was supposed to be your plus one. But now, it seems like the only exhibition the two of you came to watch is your own mirror sex. To be quite frank, you’re not even sure how it all escalated to this. One second the two of you were arguing about who was more artistically gifted and the next you watched him pin your arms over your head as his thrusts gradually increased in speed. 

“Fine by me. Just the way I like it,” Jungkook says with a grin, nibbling on his lip rings as his eyes scan his favourite canvas. 

“Koo, I’m serious. I can’t go out like this in front of all our friends,” you snap him out of it before slightly pushing him off of you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, handing you his blazer. “Now, we’re even,” a teasing chuckle escapes his parted lips as he unbuttons his black dress shirt, exposing his sculpted chest and the silver chain that would usually dangle over you. 

“I’m not sure how this is supposed to help us hide the fact that we just fucked,” 

“Who said I wanted to hide it?” Jungkook replies with a sly wink before opening the door, eyes following your every move as his blazer covered just enough of your skin to eliminate possible suspicion. As far as everyone else is concerned, this is a fashion statement. 

“I would lay you down on top of this piano if you’d let me. Listen to the echoes of your pretty moans bounce off the brick walls, giving these people the pleasure of some real live music,” the sound of his raspy voice dragging behind shifts your attention back to your needy boyfriend as you turn around to see him manspreading on the wooden piano bench. 

“What an intriguing offer, unfortunately, all you do is talk, pretty boy,” you tease, as the sound of your heels inching closer to him adds to the heated tension. 

“Don’t do that, y/n,” 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” his hooded eyes shoot up, hands tracing circles on your exposed thighs. 

“I think I’ll be just fine,” 

“I know you will. I’m more concerned about myself. When it comes to you I seem to lose all control,” 

“Oh? I’m sorry?” you attempt to act shocked, blinking your naive eyes as to create an image of pure innocence. 

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook scoffs, jerking his head back, and pulling you onto his lap as your lips rest inches apart. 

“I’m not. I like the taste of dominance,” you give into a quick peck before straddling his thighs, earning a slight hiss.  

“And, I like the taste of you. To each their own, I guess,” Jungkook mumbles the last part before pulling you into a deep kiss. Tongues fighting for the said dominance, the space between your heaving bodies is no longer apparent. And, as your hands trail up his warm chest you could feel him smirk into the kiss, his grip tightening around your waist.

“Koo,” you manage to let out a hitched breath before cupping his face which was busy leaving trails of purple marks on your collarbone. 

“Do we have to go back? We can put on our own show at home. I’ll be the artist and you can be my muse, mhm? How does that sound?” he virtually pleads, eyes sparkling under the dim lights of the hall. 

“No way one sundress got you this needy,” you can’t help but giggle, gaze softening at his vulnerable state.  

“You could walk out wearing a sack of potatoes and I’d still beg on my knees,” 

“What will you do if we break up?” you ask hushedly, caressing his soft hair. 

“Oh, there’s no breaking up, baby. I’m too consumed now,” Jungkook grins, sneaking his hands under your blazer before earning a soft yelp from your parted lips. 

“And what if I’m not?” you say teasingly, slowly straddling your hips back and forth, innocent eyes locked on his darkened gaze. Of course, you are, but what’s the fun in admitting your weakness? 

“You’re not?” he asks, smirking at the way your mouth slights parts as his thumb rubs circles over your throbbing heat. You might be his weakness but you also stand no chance when his possessive side takes over. 

“I said if,” you whisper, chest heaving up from the suffocating tension. 

“I’ll make sure you are. Make sure you’re mine,”

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

Current State of Events

Had the worst writer's block and tbh still am going through it. I've always loved writing as an escape, but right now it feels more like a chore, which just signifies that I'm not in the right mindset. I miss it, but I wouldn't want to put out something that doesn't come purely from my heart.

I have so many unfinished stories and even more potential pieces of work waiting for their turn to be published, so for that, I apologize. All of my posted stories have already been finished in terms of planning but I have to actually link the words together and create a coherent flow of meaning.

Recently, I've been wanting to step foot into a different domain aside from writing, more like video editing, something visual that could go hand in hand with the storylines I've created. I don't know, these ideas are always brewing in my head but I swear putting them into an actual, physical form is like pulling out teeth.

To be honest, I was thinking of deleting Tumblr and forgetting I've ever even started this, as it felt like all motivation within me slowly dispersed into thin air. But, I do enjoy the creative aspect of it so maybe a little break is all that I needed. Anywho, this word vomit is more for me as a reflection process, so thank you if you stuck around till the end <33