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jkslipppiercing · 19 days

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Horny For My Bestie | Jeon JK | Oneshot

☆ Synopsis: Your best friend, jungkook, is dared to take a Viagra pill at a party. He's horny for his bestie...in this case, you.

☆ Genre: Smut, angst, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!, JK'S POV

☆ Pairing: Bsf!oc, horny!jk.

☆ Warnings: honestly just a loooot of smut, Jungkook is horny out of his damn mind, horny thoughts, angst, dirty talk, oc cries during sex, oral (f receiving), spanking, a lot of kissing (duh), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (be safe out there x), he cums inside her, bitch idk what else just read it and find out 😜 oh yeah dry humping, animalistic fucking, shit like that

☆ WC: 8.5K

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a/n: AHHHHHH it's finally here!! this is my longest fic yet so.i hope you enjoy it. im so so so excited everyone support and show love!! i love you all ♡

-UNEDITED

Her lips move, but i'm not listening.

She looks at me expectantly, like though she's waiting for a response.

Had she just spoken to me right now?

Because, not to be one of rude mannerisms, I couldn’t give a shit if I wanted to.

My body's on fire. Heat pulses through ny veins and my cock visibly throbs, and her bare thigh peeking out from the slit of her tiny dress isnt helping.

it's a given rule, not to be sexually drawn to your best friend.

I shouldn't see her this way.

I shouldn’t picture her lips sloppily sucking around me just because theyre swollen and inviting. Red and fucking attracting the hell out of my attention.

I shouldn’t picture her under me.

Above me.

On me.

Fucking hell.

Im aware of the sweat trickling down my temple.

Im highly aware of how uncomfortable I’d make her feel if I tried to adjust my seating position.

The raging hard-on would be hard to conceal if I tried to move a sliver of an inch.

Fuck, im horny.

Horny for her.

Thanks to fucking Viagra falls and Kim Fucking Taehyung.

Damn him.

the party music’s bass still rings in my ears, a reminder of how loud and chaotic taehyung’s parties always are. It breaches the peaceful silence one would usually experience sitting in a car half past midnight.

I’d picked my best friend up earlier this evening so we could go there together.

It was a weekly taehyung frat party. The usual.

The dress she chose to wear hugs her curves nicely, her makeup simple, but complimenting her features. High heels adorn her feet and that fucking dress adorns my conscience.

The tiny slit.

Tiny, tiny, little, slit.

She shifts her feet, and the dress hikes up higher.

The viagra I'd been dared to take just a little over half an hour ago had taken effect pretty harshly on my body.

My poor, poor body.

Stray strands of my hair are sticking to my forehead, my cock is growing harder by the second, and my heartbeat is beating faster than I could fucking breathe.

I cant even breathe properly.

And the damn sex appeal goddess sitting across from me in my car’s passenger seat is not making it any easier.

We’ve been sitting in this car for I don’t know how long, after I'd called out for her and asked her to leave, and drove us both to my apartment.

She didn’t look at me long enough then to notice all the distress literally draping over my body and ambushing it like a blanket, so she just obliged by my request, following me away and to my car.

Should I tell her? About the viagra?

Would it be weird?

Of course it’d be weird, you dumbass.

She’d probably be uncomfortable.

Fuck, since when was she so damn irresistible?

Fuck, just make out with me already.

Fuck, wanna fuck?

FUCK.

I’d love to fuck.

“kook.” she moans.

No she does NOT.

She didn’t moan. She just asked. But I’d love to hear her moan. When I ease into her and start fucking her with slow, languid strokes…I'd fucking love to hear that voice moan for me. For my cock.

Is she the loud type? Would she scream? Whimper? Cry?

My cock twitches, hardening by the second. It’s almost painful at this point, the viagra pumping in my veins and throwing my head in a frenzy.

Fuck, I literally want to fuck the shit outta her.

My eyes snap back to her eyes, cheeks growing red when I notice I’ve been staring at her thighs.

Great.

Now I look like a perverted asshole.

“sorry,” took me too long to respond.

Dammit.

I try to adjust my position, throwing an arm over my crotch to cover the raging hard-on. Casually.

Almost too casually, apparently, because that catches her attention.

She bats her eyelashes once at me, in what seems to me a mix of perplexity and frustration.

Same. Im also frustrated out of my mind.

But apart from that, im disappointed.

Almost angry, even.

I love y/n. as a fucking friend. Not literally. I mean, at the moment, I’d love to fuck her-

Ive said that too many times, havent i?

Anyway, she’s a friend. A really good friend. A best friend.

I always had a deep care towards her, always felt the need to be there for her just as she was for me.

So that proves the point as to why im damn disappointed in myself.

When I took that viagra pill, I hadn’t expected to be so drawn to her. I never saw myself thinking- more accurately, fantasizing- about her this way.

She’s comfortable. Platonic.

I thought it wasn’t a big deal. Thought I'd get myself a one night stand and satiate the horniness I'd feel when I took the damn pill. Call y/n a cab and go back home with a hooker on my dick.

I almost cringe.

But instead of doing just that? I panicked and looked for her. Searched the crowds for her. Called out for her and asked her to come with me.

I thought it was a good idea to take her to my car. Drive her to my apartment. Where I live alone. At half-passed midnight.

My thoughts were driven by her, seeming to believe that I’d calm down if I set my eyes on her.

I was the biggest dumbass.

Here I fucking am, horny out of my mind, for my best friend of all people.

I want her as a friend. No…need. I need her as my friend.

And lord help me, I'm horny for my bestie.

“was distracted.” I clear my throat, scratching at my nape awkwardly.

“why are you blushing?” there's the slightest hint of amusement in her tone, curiosity clouding her soft irises.

“me? Blushing?” I snort. I don’t blush. What a stupid question to ask.

Instead of verbally replying to me, she shifts her eyes rapidly towards the rear view mirror then flicks them back to me, as if telling me to ‘see for myself’.

I do just that, and all earlier amusement is replaced with embarrassment when I realize that, fuck, I am blushing.

Im fucking blushing.

My cock hurts.

Im sweating.

Discomfort swirls in my mind.

Horniness clouds my vision.

She laughs at me expression, which only deepens my frustration.

Only when I remain stoic, does her laugh die down. She looks to be confused once again, probably because she’s not used to me being so serious.

Usually, we’d laugh it off. We make fun of anything and everything, even sometimes each other.

So for her to burst out laughing and me not to join her?

that’s weird for us.

Honestly, she has a right to be confused.

Never once since I had met y/n had I seen her in the light im seeing her in right now.

Naked.

Choked.

Ruined.

Fucked.

My eyes glue to her lips and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.

I cant help it.

Im not even aware im doing it.

How would they feel? Soft?

Would she kiss slow, soft, and passionate?

Or rough, hard, and hungry?

When I remain silent and tense, she speaks with even more evident amusement.

“if you wanna kiss me, you could just ask…” she trails off into another light laugh.

Okay, she’s trying to lighten up the mood.

Except, my eyes cant help but flutter shut at the image of her lips on my own with her on my lap. Grinding on my lap. Moaning into my mouth. Smiling against my lips.

My cock fucking hurts.

This time, when I pull my eyebrows together and pinch my nose bridge in exasperation, she doesn’t let it slide.

Her brows pull in their own adorable frown as she eyes me weird.

She’s trying to read me, I realize.

She opens her mouth, but I beat her to it.

“don’t say things like that.” Just above a hard whisper. my cock throbs and I have to lean my head against the headrest. I face forward, not wanting to torture my poor dick any longer by looking at her. “not to me, y/n.”

I cant fucking breathe.

My eyes hooded and on the dark, moonlit sidewalk facing the forefront of my apartment, I try to calm my breathing.

In…out…in…out…

Nope.

Not working.

“relax.” She's growing irritated.

Good.

Maybe then she'd leave so I can stop myself from doing something I'd regret.

Except im parked in front of my building in my car.

And it’s way too late for her to go back to her place alone.

I almost scoff at how ridiculous that sounds.

y/n? alone? On the streets? Wearing that?

Fuck no.

I cant relax.

“you went quiet again.” Huh?

I turn my neck to her, head still on the headrest.

She reads the question in my eyes, “you wandered off. Again. You’ve done it multiple times by now.” She mumbles.

Shit.

Well, I cant just tell her Im horny out of my mind for her.

Instead, I say, “just got something on my mind. A little distracted.”

“but you’re never distracted like this, jungkook.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means you're giving me excuses.” She speaks louder now, more clearly. “you chew on your bottom lip when you're distracted. Your eyes grow doe and wide, giving you a ‘deer in the headlights’ type of look. You run your hands through your hair too many times, as well.”

Ignoring the flutter in my chest because ‘damn, she noticed all those things about me?’, I stare at her in question. “so?”

“so, you’re not distracted. Something's obviously wrong and you’re not telling me.” She lets a hint of frustration slip through. “you seem angry. Irritated. Your hand's clenching around the wheel so hard, your knuckles are white.”

I loosen my hold, now realizing I am.

“your eyes arent round and thoughtful. Theyre hard and hooded. You havent ran your hands through your hair once- and you even scratched your neck.”

“look-“

“you’ve been doing that tongue thing with your cheek for the last twenty minutes!”

Throwing her hands around the cramped space of the car in exasperation, her voice raises.

My mouth opens only to close again.

She’s left me speechless, and fuck, I want her even more badly than ever before.

I panic.

It’s between picking her up and taking her up to my bedroom, or finding a way to get her out of here…fast.

“take my keys.” I remove my car key from the ignition, opening her palm and closing it around it. “drive to your apartment.”

She gapes at me.

“I’ll take a taxi to yours and get the car back tomorrow morning. Or you can come pick me up and we'll figure something out. Call if anything happens.”

I grab my jacket from the backseat, discreetly concealing my crotch with it as I hop out of the car.

The cold night's breeze smacks my cheeks harshly, giving me a weird type of relief.

I relish the distraction from my thoughts for as long as possible as I walk to the building without looking back.

If I turn around and find her staring at me, she’ll be sore and begging by tomorrow morning.

Limping to the bathroom to wash my cum off.

I shake my head at my immaturity.

Get a godforsaken grip.

Except when im just about taking the first steps toward the apartment building, I hear my passenger car's door open and close, with the clanking of high heels against asphalt reaching my ears.

y/n halts in front of me when I remain frozen in place, and all I can do is curse under my breath at the absurdity of the situation.

“what you're doing is unfair.” With her head held high, she cranes her neck back to stare at me.

She’s hella irritated.

And frustrated.

Again, bestie, same.

“go home, y/n.” or else I'll do something that we’ll both regret.

“or what?”

Or I’ll ruin our friendship.

But I don’t say that.

“why am I expected to just listen?” her voice hardens with distaste. “you’ve ruined my night.”

“ruined your night?” I can’t help the dry tone that bleeds into the rasp of my voice into the cold night air.

“I met this guy, you know.” She laughs, but it’s humorless. Sad. I use her tone to distract myself, knowing that if I dwelled on what she had just said too much, I was gonna bury that “guy” six feet under by tomorrow. “it was going well. Thought I had a chance with him.” Like hell she did.

A muscle in my jaw ticks.

She averts her gaze to look at the concrete beneath us, only to stare up at me with resignation.

“but then you came. You happened. You grabbed my wrist and told me to come with you. I didn’t ask, and here we are.”

My eyes soften.

“tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“okay.”

Her eyes brim with hope.

“yeah?”

Fuck. Me.

“yeah. Let’s go up first. I cant have you freezing under my watch.”

She nods before a rough shiver racks her body, as if she’d just now realized how cold the night air kissing her cheeks really is.

Considering my still rock-hard cock and painful arousal, I can’t put my jacket on her. I cant give it to her, because then she’d see. Im already burning the hell up and am profusely sweating, which im sure she notices.

She’s been eying me with curiosity for a while now, trying to figure out what actually is wrong with me.

I don’t blame her.

Shivers relentlessly rack her body as her hair blows with the wind.

So I sling an arm over her shoulders and rub her arm with my hand, desperate for some sort of friction to warm her up, leading us both into and up the building to my apartment.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, y/n walks in quietly behind me.

It’s unnerving.

She hasn’t said a thing.

Yet.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

“Y/n-“

As soon as I turn around, her lips are moving in the softest rhythm imaginable.

She speaks and those bright pink pillows move, and the horny haze blocking my sight highlights her lips’ movements.

My cock pulses when she bites her lip.

What the fuck.

My eyes remain focused on her lips- and yes, im aware of how uncomfortable that must make her feel- even as she sways with a half-step.

She rubs her palms together, and when she looks up at me with innocent eyes and a sheepish smile?

I want to ruin her.

If she lets me…nothing about this night is going to end up “innocent”.

My eyes darken when I realize what she had just said.

“I noticed your boner, like, twenty minutes ago.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I close it right back when I don’t find anything to say.

Im at a loss for words.

Fuck, her lips are so soft. And swollen. And soft.

So fucking soft.

Focus, asshole.

Her lips tip up in an attempt of making me smile along with her, but all she gets in return is a grumpy scowl.

Not gonna lie, if I wasn’t such a horny prick right now? I wouldve laughed with her.

But now, all I could do is scowl in response.

Which makes her almost-smile fall.

I didn’t scowl at her. I scowled at the boner.

But she doesn’t know that, asshole.

Kill me now.

She clears her throat. “I also…um…” well that’s unlike her. “I saw you take that viagra thing. You know…the thing that made you so horny you’re scowling at me.”

Now that makes me snort. Loudly.

She laughs with me.

I almost forget my aching cock at the sight of her smile.

“so what happens now?”

“let me kiss you.”

We both speak at the same time, and my eyes widen in sync with hers.

Her mouth hangs open, and I look away in embarrassment.

Why the fuck is she eying me like that?!

What did she expect?

I’m horny.

She's here.

Doesn’t need a genius to piece it together.

Or maybe im an idiot who shouldn’t have thought about it that way.

But im also an idiot who took a viagra pill for a dare.

Im so horny I'd fuck a wall, for fuck’s sake!

I rake a hand through my hair in frustration…and something that achingly resembles resignation.

My cock hurts, man.

I’m sick of this shit.

“what?” I bite out.

She continues to gape at me.

My eyes droop low and slowly go over her dress.

My patience simmers on high heat as my anger almost boils over.

It’s either she gets the fuck out of my sight or she puts me out of my misery.

She's a goddess I’d be on my knees to worship in a heartbeat.

I can think of a lot of ways I can worship the effort she put into this goddamn dress.

I’m willing to fucking beg.

I am.

“you want to kiss me?”

Well, no shit, Sherlock. Didn’t she hear me zay exactly that?

“yes, y/n, I want to kiss you.” I snap impatiently.

Maybe if I wasn't in physical pain I wouldn't be such a prick.

When her eyes gloss over and she avoids eye-contact, there’s this prickly feeling that something’s on her mind.

“what is it?” I ask, making sure to soften my tone.

She shakes her head.

Fuck no.

I step closer to her, forgetting about my cock for the sake of communication, and swipe the hair barricading the frame of her face to tuck behind her ear.

Her neck remains craned down in an awkward situation, and im incredibly aware of how clear of an image she has of my boner.

She doesn't make fun of it, though.

She just stares at it, which kind of makes me uncomfortable.

So to get her to stare at my eyes, instead, I hook my index finger under her chin and lift her face up.

Her eyebrows pinch in a confused frown and her lips push forward in an adorable question.

I stroke her chin with my thumb.

What? It just feels right.

“ask.”

“what?”

“I know you want to ask me something. You always go quiet when you do.”

She tries to avoid my gaze again, but I pinch her chin firmly, keeping her right where I want her to be.

She looks up at me, and fuck.

Those eyes.

“I know im being kind of an asshole.” She hums and I chuckle. “but don’t let that get to your head. Im also your best friend.”

She smiles.

“your very horny best friend.”

She breathes out a soft laugh.

“so, as your best friend, please tell me what is it?” I reason with her. she's always been this stubborn. Wont ever tell me what’s on her mind unless I pry. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

It’s like I can feel her resolve melt right in front of my eyes.

My pretty little y/n. all she needs is pretty words and empty promises to give in.

The reminder of the guy she met tonight sneaks back into my conscience, along with the tiny slit of the dress she was wearing.

High heels and high ponytails.

Sex, money, feelings.

I cant help but physically weaken at the thought of someone else touching her like this.

Their hand on her chin tilting her face up. The way she simply obliges by the movement and shows no intention of rebellion against it.

Fuck…what if she had refused to come with me tonight?

Would she have fucked him?

Should I even care?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

The words are out of her mouth one second, and by the next, my lips are on hers’.

I kiss her with feverish dreams.

I kiss her with a hard cock.

I kiss her with a passion I had no idea of possessing.

Fuck, I kiss her.

I slip my tongue in her mouth with a moan.

I revel in the way her breath stops when I slide it against hers’.

I smile when she bites my lip for a stance of dominance.

Except I know for a fact that if I wanted to, I could have her punished and writhing for my cock in a minute.

I kiss her.

And she kisses me back.

When she scratches against my scalp and pulls at the strands of my hair, arching her back against me, I'm hit with the sudden realization of her earlier question.

She wants me to be attracted to her.

Desperately.

She’s kissing me- devouring my lips, even- pushing and pulling and arching her body against mine because she wants me to want her.

Dare I even say, she wants me to want her as much as she does me.

She wants me.

y/n desperately wants me.

The best friend I’ve known for years has been yearning for my touch, and I’ve been oblivious to it.

Stupid motherfucker.

My cock restrains when I slide my hands over her body, holding everything I can reach, but staying respectful. I inch toward the curve of her ass, but stop.

My hands barely graze the round of her breast, but I don’t go further.

Because I don’t know that she wants me. It’s a deducted conclusion, yet not a fully proven one.

Im giving her a chance to back down.

I rest my hands on her waist, and push her body closer to mine, craning my neck and giving in to the kiss deeper.

She bites my lip again, pulling it with her teeth and my eyes almost roll back at the feeling.

I'm torturing myself.

My cock aches for release and my body calls for her.

Yet, I just cant get enough of her damn lips.

She pulls away- reluctantly- with wide eyes and a crazed expression.

All swollen lips and smudged lipstick.

I almost whimper.

“wait.” She blinks away and I can almost feel her mind drift off.

She disentangles her body from mine and runs her hands through her hair, as if trying to regain a semblance of control over herself.

“hey.” Calling out softly, I reach out for her, for some of her.

I want her so fucking badly.

She doesn’t reply, only taking a step back and shaking her head.

My hand falls.

I push away my horny thoughts for a second.

Is that…regret I see on her face?

“y/n.” I call out again, mind swirling harder and only growing more drowsy by the second.

“you just kissed me.”

“I did.”

“why?”

What's that supposed to mean?

“because I wanted to?” my confusion is palpable.

“you didn’t answer my earlier question.” She doesn’t look at me.

She doesn’t look at me and my heart near sinks.

What question?

“do you want to fuck me because im the only available option?”

Oh. That.

“what?” is all I can say.

I don’t know what to say.

“you want to fuck me, right?” she doesn’t fucking look at me.

Why wont she look at me?

My shoulders tense and my eyebrows knot.

Would that be such a crime? Us fucking?

Apparently so, to miss y/n.

I thought she wanted me?

Guess I was wrong.

“yes.” I do.

“why?”

“what the fuck do you mean, y/n?” I cant help the rough edge that bleeds into my tone.

I thought we were getting somewhere.

She let me kiss her.

“why do you want to fuck me?”

“because I want to?”

I take a step closer, and she takes one back.

What the fuck?

“you’ve taken a sex pill, jungkook.” And?

I stay silent.

“that pill makes you horny.”

I hum impatiently, urging her on.

“we’ve been best friends for seven years, and you just now want to fuck me and do things to me?”

A sadistic chuckle rips out of my chest. I feel my heart bleed, but I try to shift the feeling to ice in my veins.

Except white hot lust is literally pumping through my system, and it’s with great effort that im able to contain my impulse.

Oh, and, by the way?

Pretty eyes still won't look at me, and it makes my blood boil.

Fucking boil, I tell you.

Would I pull her close and tell her to voice her insecurities if I didn’t want her?

If I didn’t care for her?

Would I kiss her?

“you’re not answering me, jungkook.”

Her eyes are not on mine and im panicking.

Does she think im using her?

“you wanna know why I want to fuck you?”

At my ice cold tone, she finally looks up.

And when I begin my stride toward her slowly cowering frame, she goes on with taking retreating steps.

“why I want to ruin you?”

Another step closer, met with another step back.

“why I want to hear your scream my name?”

I can see her clench her legs together, and when she bumps against the wall with a shiver, all I can do is laugh bitterly.

The predator and prey trance ceases when I halt in front of her with both hands against the wall on either side of her head.

Im caging her in, and she's shivering underneath my scrutiny.

It does little to satiate the inhumane sadistic urges containing me.

“tell me why.”

My hand slides down, down, down, until I find the curve of her hip and firmly hold my hand there.

“you don’t get to call the shots.” A squeeze at her hip. “not here,” my neck drops until my breath is met with the curve of her ear. I let my voice deepen into a rasp when I come dangerously close to the lobe of her ear. “not now.”

Her breath hitches, and when I step between her legs and pull her body flush against mine, all she's able to do is gasp.

My hand’s on her waist, arching her back as she’s pressed against me. The feeling of my thigh against her heat is driving me farther than insane.

I can feel the slick between her thighs on mine, wetness seeping through her panties and onto my jeans. I’m sure she can feel my rigid outline through my slacks, because she has the audacity to shift her thigh so that it connects with my arousal.

A little harsher contact than usual.

I cant help but hiss.

Everything she does now is ten times more heightened, but im not sure she knows that.

When I move my thigh toward her core in return, she grinds back onto it.

A small whimper graces my ears.

“now who’s being needy?” a humorless chuckle.

Belittling.

Humiliating.

But she couldn’t care less as she breathlessly moans in return and starts to ride my thigh.

Pathetic.

Turns me on.

I press my thigh even farther up her core as confirmation.

She moans louder this time, the sound like music to my ears.

“still wanna know the answer to your stupid question?” I smirk against her ear with a slight lilt of tease in my voice, knowing if she wasn’t riding high on a wave of pleasure, she would’ve- without a doubt- smacked me or poked my rib playfully.

But the thing is, she can’t.

She closes her eyes, frantically growing more needy with every bump and grind of her pussy against my clothed thigh.

She’s close when she gasps and clutches my bicep for support.

“not so easy.” I take her moment of vulnerability as payback for what she’s had me go through tonight.

Im in physical pain.

And im damn willing to make her suffer.

She audibly whines when I completely pull myself away from her, taking a victorious step back.

I just robbed her of her orgasm.

Ha.

“what the fuck?” she grows defensive now, coming nose-to-nose with me as she gets all in my face.

Cute.

My smile’s wolfish.

That only irritates her more, and I honest-to-god expect her to punch me right here and now…

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she lets out a huff- a fucking adorable one- and stalks off.

She hastily grabs her purse and shoves a hand in it, seemingly searching for her phone.

My smile instantly drops.

“what are you doing?” distaste.

She doesn’t answer me.

In an instant, she’s shoving the door open and the next, im walking over to her, pushing the door closed and turning her around.

Calmly.

I have no fleeting idea how the fuck I managed to keep myself controlled.

I pin her against the wooden door with a hand on the side of her neck and another on her middle.

“when I ask you a question,” my head dips down and I gently graze my nose against her jaw. “you answer it.”

She shoves me, clutching my shirt and crumpling it when she tries to push me away.

But her body does otherwise.

She arches against me and her breathing grows ragged.

She’s almost as turned on as I am, her nipples pebbled and hard through the sheer material of the dress.

So when she pushes me away, I remain rooted in place with a mocking smile on my lips.

“no.”

“no?” she echoes, infuriated and almost resigned.

A low hum reverberates as my confirmation.

“why?” she asks so quietly I strain to hear her, even through our very close proximity.

I can hear her heartbeat racing.

But it’s not even close to the rate of mine.

“because I want you.” A rough whisper.

A vulnerable confession.

“then kiss me.”

She wont have to ask me twice.

When my lips finally reconnect with hers’ in a dreamy haze, she kisses me back with insane need.

Im afraid once I start, I wont be able to stop.

Im not even sure I would want to.

Her purse falls to the floor as she circles her arms around my neck, pulling me down and further into the poison that is her.

She’s a drug.

And count me fucking addicted.

She bites my lower lip and tugs, shamelessly drawing blood and fuck if this girl will be able to walk tomorrow.

“I want you.”

I pull away as much as she allows me to, but my lips are barely off of hers’ and on her throat before she grabs my face and makes out with me again.

All I can do is moan into the dream that is her mouth in return.

She tries to take her heels off- failing miserably with her growing more preoccupied with my mouth by the second.

I groan impatiently and bite her lip, tasting her with my tongue and never getting enough it.

Her whimpers and my grunts get lost somewhere along our undying need for each other.

“up.” She jumps at the command, legs latching onto my middle which I catch and hold on to.

Our mouths remain one as I carry us both to my bedroom.

Fuck me if I aint taking this seriously.

Ive been wanting this girl for I don’t know how long, been in denial for even longer.

How could anyone not want her?

Her hair, her lips, her body, her eyes, her nose, her damn lips.

Those fucking lips.

My end, my demise.

She detangles them from our very sloppy make-out to lazily drag them along the column of my throat.

Slowly,

Boldly,

Teasingly.

I cant help but grind up into her in response.

I guess the low approving growl that reaches her ears turns her on, because she grinds back even wilder.

Feeling like I will most definitely combust, I set her on her feet in the middle of the hallway.

Her eyes round in confusion as to why I stopped just barely two steps away from my bedroom.

I could take her there.

On her knees, ass up.

On her back, knees apart.

On me, back arched.

But my cock aches and im two minutes away from begging if she doesn’t let me be inside her for another second.

This is torture.

She is torture.

So I give her mouth one last sloppy kiss before turning her around and-gently- pushing her against the wall. She winds up with her cheek pressing against it as well as her tits restrained in the tight confinement between her body and the solid concrete wall.

Pressing the palms of her hands on it for balance, she yelps when I grab her hips and pull them towards me.

She’s like a doll I can throw around however I like.

And im bewildered how easy she’s letting me off.

Under other circumstances, I would’ve gotten a huff or a whine in protest, but now?

She pushes her ass farther against my crotch and grinds.

She grinds her fucking ass on my dick and I think I might cry from the pain of wanting to be inside her.

Enough waiting.

I roughly pull the hem of her dress above the arch of her ass and fuck if it isnt the prettiest sight.

She lets out a sigh which turns into a moan when I land a light-careful- spank on her ass.

It’s careful because I don’t know what she likes.

Rough and hungry?

Sweet and slow?

The former would be more convenient, considering the circumstances of us being horny out of our minds.

But the latter would be more pleasant, especially since her body is way more delicate than I could ever imagine.

I wouldn’t force anything on her, of course.

Goddamn it, im gagged.

She spreads her legs wider for me as she grinds, moaning “more” in the most pornographic voice ive ever heard.

A pained groan and a harder slap is what she gets for that.

That torment.

The thong she’s wearing almost bares her pussy to me, and at that particular sight, I am a mad man.

I pull her thong down down down, and pull her ass up up up.

She glistens with the evidence of her arousal, and a low groan of pleasure shamelessly escapes me.

“You’re unbelievable.” Shock.

“In a good way?” Confused.

Getting on my knees as fast as I can, I latch my mouth onto her opening and do what I shouldve done a long time ago.

I worship the incredible goddess that’s been right in front of my eyes for ages.

I nibble, lick, and suck, moaning into her pretty pretty pussy.

She’s so fucking pretty.

I hope she knows it.

At least after this, I’ll make damn sure she gets that fact straight.

Unbelievable.

She is.

She moans and moans and moans, and all I need is a little friction to cum in my restraining boxers.

So I do what I need to; palm my dick through my jeans while I bury my face into her pussy.

So fucking beautiful.

Just like I imagined.

I suck her clit into my mouth and suck, in which she bucks her hips into my face in a moaning plea for more.

Toying with her clit and nibbling on her sinful taste has me on my knees. Literally.

I wouldn’t hesitate to fucking beg this woman.

If she asked me to? There’s probably nothing that would make me say no to her.

Nothing.

Im afraid im already obsessed.

She grinds once onto my mouth, gasping once she’s realized what she'd done.

“it feels good?” I press an open-mouthed kiss on her opening, using my tongue to tease into it.

She whimpers loudly, her legs opening wider for me.

“such a needy slut.”

She whines at that, and with no warning I push two fingers into her aching heat.

Her very, very, wet and soaking heat.

A barely audible gasp is out of her mouth when I push another finger in and take her clit back into my mouth, squeezing her ass-cheek with my free hand.

“what do you want?” and I start fucking her with my fingers.

“please…” her breath hitches right when I curl them, reaching a spot that made her clench around me and buck her hips wildly against my face.

“you wanna cum? Huh? All up against my mouth?”

She’s fucking dripping all over me, and it's just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I continue my ruthless finger-fucking until I feel her moans build up so high I have to spank her ass.

“shhh, baby. You’re doing so well.” I massage the red hand-print gently, slightly guilty at the rough spank I delivered. “let’s not give the neighbors a show they didn't ask for.”

But fuck, I love hearing her moan for me.

My movements don’t stop as they even heighten in intensity, but all I hear is her harsh breathing in return.

She chose to be obedient.

“Good girl.”

She whines quietly, and she clenches around my moving fingers again as she inches closer to her orgasm.

“yeah?” im waiting for her confirmation.

“yeah.” She says breathlessly, her hips arching further as she shamelessly offers her dripping pussy to me.

Goddamn the effect this woman has on me.

My cock twitches with the reminder of my horniness, and my breath grows ragged along with hers.

My fingers remain unrelenting as I pick the pace up further and curl them, sucking her clit into my mouth and toying with it using my tongue.

Breathing seems to be a far possibility for me when she clenches her pussy so tight it's almost hard for me to move.

Like she’s holding me there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

A high moan barely escapes her as she muffles the sound with her hand. Biting on her hand to quiet down, she reaches her orgasm and I moan when her legs shake.

She’s trembling, fucked out as she grinds back on my mouth with her hand covering hers.

I rub my cock through my jeans only once, and that’s all it takes for me to cum with her.

I tongue-fuck her through her orgasm, my hand on my clothed cock persistent, even as it gets a little uncomfortable.

She quietly begs me when I’ve overstimulated her, so I press one last kiss to her pussy and get on my feet.

Y/n holds onto the wall for support before straightening her back and leaning her weight against me.

She breathes heavily and her eyes are closed when she wobbles around to look at me.

Is she too spent already?

Too bad.

We’re nowhere near done.

“take me to bed.”

“we’re not done yet.”

“I didn’t say we were.”

She gets on her toes, pressing a sloppy kiss to my mouth as she fondles with my shirt.

I suck on her tongue when she opens a button and slips a hand into my shirt, feeling me up with her nails. She scratches me on my chest, on my abs, and wherever her hands can reach.

My cock goes back to its aching state, at that.

“mm, baby.” I pull back and exhale a sigh when she successfully unbuttons my shirt and throws it on the ground.

She guides a single finger over my abs- which flex as an approving reflex- and plays with the waistband of my boxers peeking out of my pants.

I’m reminded with the sticky material pressing against me right then and there, and she noticed the damp spot over my crotch when she pulls my pants down.

She looks up in surprise, apparently shocked that I’m so horny I came in my damn boxers.

Not gonna lie, a first for me, too.

I smirk. “surprised?”

“very.” She laughs.

I like this. Her. I can be who I am with this woman.

I can laugh with her during foreplay, for example.

On her knees, she looks up at me through innocent eyes and dark lashes as she pulls the barrier of my boxers down.

She stares at my length, appearing impressed- and scared- at the sheer size of it.

“fuck. You drive me insane.” A low grumble of bewilderment.

“I know.” A giggle of satisfaction. “you wanna fuck my throat?”

Judging off the fact that she goes to take me in her mouth, probably thinking I’ll say ‘yes’, she presses a kiss to the tip of my cock before sucking it into her mouth.

Such a fucking tease.

But we’re not doing this.

Not now.

I struggle to suppress a moan, pulling her up by her hand as I shake my head.

“Maybe another time.”

She stares at me with a scrunch of confusion in her brows before nodding in understanding.

I take her hand in mine and wrap it around my cock, stroking it once

Her eyes droop low in a shadow of wanting need as she watches the movement with her bottom lip between her teeth.

As I guide her through the hand job, I pull her to me by the neck, her hand in mine stuck between our bodies as I kiss her with feverish need.

Her rhythm accelerates and she squeezes me, making my orgasm almost tip over the edge.

I hold back with all my might as I loudly release a pornographic moan in her mouth, as to which she smiles into the kiss in return.

She bites my lips and pulls it to her before releasing it, sucking on my tongue right after. Stroking me even faster as she presses her mouth to me farther.

I can barely keep up, bur I’m not complaining.

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex this hungry.

She’s impatient and I’m testing her limits.

But I’m afraid my limits were crossed over in the process.

Apparently in the mood to torture myself now more than ever, I pull both of our hands away from my cock right as I’m about to cum.

“what’s wrong-“

“I need to be inside you.” She closes her mouth shut.

“need to feel you around me.” I kiss her.

“need to cum inside of you.” She moans.

“who's stopping you?”

Well damn.

Right to the point.

“shut up.” As I carry her to my bedroom.

Neither of us have time to contemplate anything as I set her gently on the bed.

She slightly bounces, at which she giggles at as I get rid of the bunched up dress at her waist.

Pulling it over her head, her tits bounce as she plops back onto the mattress and takes me down to her by her grip on my neck.

“easy, baby.” I smirk before her lips are on mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We're both naked.

Skin to skin.

Me and my best friend.

My cock glides easily along her pussy, a result of her being so wet.

For me.

Pretty baby’s as horny for me as I am for her.

“gonna let me fuck you good?” I pant as my hips accelerate in rhythm, bumping and grinding against her. “huh?”

She moans when my tip nudges her clit, and I do it again and again as we both grow needier.

Hungrier.

More and more desperate for the feel of each other.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back once I’ve gotten a taste of her.

So I take my damn time.

Her hot, wet pussy glides smoothly along my length as I grind on her frantically.

We’re like horny bunnies in heat, eager for release.

Unable to wait any longer, I stroke my cock once before nudging it along her entrance.

She moans at that, and looks down as she watches me jerk myself off with the tip inside her.

I stroke myself only once more, and she says, “do that again.”

She likes watching me jerk-off?

Well, fuck.

“you like that?”

She moans and clenches around my tip when I stroke myself again. Writhing underneath me makes her look borderline desperate as she pants.

Her tits go up and down in rhythm with her rushed breathing, and her peaked nipples beg for attention.

I take a nipple in my mouth, entering y/n one inch further.

A little sigh of contentment is all I get before she clenches around me so hard my breath is cut off.

I groan around her nipple, slightly biting on it as I release it with a pop.

I go slow the rest of the way it takes me to fully nestle inside y/n’s pussy.

She feels heavenly, so warm and wet and- heavenly.

My eyes are hard on the spot where my pelvis meets hers in an incredible show of intimacy, and my jaw clenches from how fucking tight she is.

y/n catches my attention by digging her nails into my forearm, silently pleading me to look at her.

So I do.

And, fuck. I might bust a nut right here and now.

y/n’s crying.

A tear runs down her face and she sniffles. Once.

I smooth a palm down her cheek, pushing stray strands away from her pretty face.

“what’s wrong?”

My cock is so deep in her that I’m 100% sure, if I press down on her stomach, I'll feel it there.

She struggles to answer me, her voice barely above a whisper when she whispers to me.

“it hurts.” Her voice breaks. “it hurts s-so good.”

The way her voice trembles and shakes is making it hard for me to breath.

Okay…

She’s an emotional fuck.

Such a pretty emotional fuck.

“You’re too big.”

I lock eyes with her when I slightly nudge my hips forward, her eyes snapping shut right when I do so.

Silently, I press a reassuring kiss to her lips which makes her open those pretty dreamy eyes for me.

“we’ll make it work.” With a deep sigh, I pull out of her only to slowly thrust my way back inside. “I’ll make it fit…” I snake a hand down her body to circle her clit gently. She whimpers. “…and it’ll feel good.”

She hums when I repeat my movements with slow reassurance, letting her adjust and take her time.

“look at you. Doing such a good job for me.”

She pulls me in deeper with her legs as they circle around my hips, caging me in as her nails graze my back.

She moans in my ears and I’m barely able to contain my damn hunger when she bites her lip while maintaining eye contact.

What on earth is happening to me.

Love?

Must be an insane amount of lust injected into my veins.

Does viagra have this long of an effect?

I’ve swam deep into this pool of desire, so lost in her eyes and breathy moans that I don’t notice how fast my thrusts have grown.

On a particularly harsh thrust, my hips brutally snap into hers as I pull out and do it again and again until she’s breathlessly moaning my name with tears in her eyes.

“yeah?” I dip my head into the damp crook of her neck.

She smells so damn sweet.

Like cherries, and….strawberries?

Maybe even a hint of vanilla.

Jesus christ.

Get a damn grip.

“it feels so good.” As she chokes on a sob.

“mhm?” I groan into her neck, the sound a low grumble of approval. “you wanna say that again?”

My hips are moving an animalistic speed at this point as she claws at my back and cries my name.

“jungkook!” a sob.

“you gonna cum for me? Huh?” I circle her clit again, and when I feel her clench so tight around me I can barely move, I know she’s cumming.

Without removing my face from her neck, I cover her mouth with my hand and snap my hips into hers again and again. Relentlessly.

“cum for me.”

She screams into my hand and bites it to muffle the sound, her body shaking under my own trembling body.

She whimpers as she comes down from her high, kissing my hand as a way of asking me to remove it.

My rhythm grows sloppy and lazy as my thrusts slow down, and with one last hard thrust into her, I’m biting into her neck with a rough “holy fuck” as I cum the hardest I've ever have in my whole 26 years of living.

I still inside her, unmoving as I kiss her neck lazily- apparently unable of giving up the sweet scent of her- as she runs her hands over my back and into my hair.

We stay like that for a while, both silent and content, the post-orgasm glow evident on both of our high faces.

Humming into the sweet taste of her throat, she giggles as the gesture seems to tickle her. One last kiss to her neck.

I roll off of her, careful not to crush her with my weight. We both grimace when I pull out of her, equally overstimulated.

We were horny best friends, frustrated and bothered just a little while ago.

Now?

We’re still best friends…I think.

Best friends who fucked like animals in heat.

But, unlike how I expected it to be, it’s not awkward at all.

When I turn my head to look at the beauty lying next to me, she has her eyes already closed as she seems to be dozing off to sleep.

I get up, making quick work to grab a glass of water and some damp towels, sitting back down next to her.

Cleaning her up only takes me a couple minutes to do the task as gently as I could, careful not to hurt her. I almost feel bad from how swollen and sore she’s going to be tomorrow.

I bend down and press a peck on her clit, the intention one of pure apology.

Maybe I went too hard.

“what’s that look for?” her voice speaks up from next to me.

“hm?”

“you’re frowning. Why?”

“I just- I'm sorry if I hurt you.” A small smile. “I got a bit carried away.”

“mm, you did.” She agrees.

Wait…did I actually hurt her?

She cackles at the hint of alarm in my eyes as she swats my arm.

“you’re okay, big guy. You didn’t hurt me…much.” She smiles a cheeky smile as she tries to stand up, wobbling as I grab her arm.

“you cried.” My voice is hoarse when I tell her that. It’s true. She cried, and it was the second hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, first being her pretty pussy. “it was hot.”

She shyly smiles at me, bending down to kiss me softly. She waddles to the bathroom- naked- as she stops at the entryway to look back at me over her shoulder.

“come shower with me.”

Should I?

Don’t mind if I do.

“okay.” The soft look in my eyes disappears to make way to mischief. She cathces onto that too quick. “round two?”

She snorts at that. “I’m afraid I’d pass out.”

“I mean…”

She gasps, as if in betrayal.

“you’re not seriously considering it, are you?!”

I step closer to her, my hand on her neck before I claim her lips. “and what if I am?”

how's may treating everyone so far?

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#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #smut #jungkook fanfic smut #jk oneshot #jk oneshot smut #jungkook oneshot smut #jungkook oneshot #bsf!jk #angst #jungkook angst

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angllicjk · 22 days

Text

𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 (𝐌)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Alt Nextdoor Neighbor!Jungkook X Bartender!(fem)Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.4K

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: While you're too busy putting up with that asshole boyfriend of yours, Jungkook spends his time trying to get you to see that he could be a better man for you. You're all he wants and he knows you want him just as much, you just need a little push. Specifically a night in with him and perhaps spill all he feels to you even if it might lead to you both falling apart.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: pining(jk), friends to lovers!, sum angst, tiny fluff, sorta unrequited feelings but not rlly, oc is emotionally constipated & very conflicted, jk is a desperate feral simp for oc, jk with neck tatts & of course his sleeve tatt😩, jk wearing smudge eyeliner(soooo hot), jk with brow & lip piercing, jealousy, slight possessive jk!, mentions of toxic relationship, smoking pot(jk & oc), infidelity(oc), arguing, sexual tension, heavy petting, heated making out, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, big dick!jk, softdom!jk, sub!oc, rough vaginal fingering, oral(f receiving very briefly), cum eating/tasting, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink/difference, light dirty talk, missionary, biting/marking & light choking.

A/N: Hiii!. I’m back with another fic 🫶🏻 this took kinda long to finish & for what, I was kinda iffy about it but I rlly wanted to post another story again. I rlly hope you enjoy this, pls let me know. I shall post another one soon hopefully. I love youuu allll💗💕🩷🎀

Through the thick haze that lingers over the both of you in his bedroom, Jungkook still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re real and sitting right next to him. A cloudy puff of smoke escapes your red stained lips, licking them right after and when you turn to look at him with a blissful smile. He couldn’t think of a better sight. A better moment than this, because he likes the way you look beside him in his room, on his bed, when you look at him like that. Just you.

Jungkook’s been trying to get you to come over to his place for a while now. Seeing you in the halls in passing or down at the laundromat and sometimes in the elevator isn’t enough for him. Being next door to you simply isn’t enough. The amount of times he’s knocked on your door to borrow some fucking sugar or to ask if you need your sink fixed again. Hell, he’s gone as far as pretending his shower was broken just so he could use yours in the meantime. Anything in the book just to get closer to you really.

Like almost every night when he’s waiting up for you after your shift from the bar a little ways from the complex just so he could walk you home. Asking about your night and keeping you company down the sketchy dark streets because he doesn’t like the thought of you all alone out there.

You always remind him that he doesn’t have to do that but Jungkook insists he must and walks you home every night anyway. He likes to. Especially if it means he gets to spend more time with you while keeping you safe.

“I just needa make sure my pretty neighbor gets inside safely, can’t have anything happen to her.”

An addictive sensual melody of a song plays low from his stereo system, filling the lingering silence between you in Jungkook’s bedroom and the heady bliss you’re starting to feel puts your overworked mind at ease.

You said you wanted to forget about whatever happened in your walls earlier(all he heard was some heated argument between you and your bitch ass boyfriend) and for once not feel a single thing but that of the burning relaxation between your fingers. Which is why you’re currently sitting beside him on his comfy bed smoking some of the pot he deals. And yet, here he is making you feel a million other things instead. Jungkook is not even doing anything but merely existing.

The way he looks so pretty leaning back against his deep burgundy colored wall. It’s cute how long strands of hair nearly cover his dark eye-lined eyes, although you miss the sight of his hot brow piercing. He had you melting on sight when he walked you home not even an hour ago when you first saw him. The fit of a signature leather jacket, an old band tee that fits his slim frame perfectly and baggy denim jeans with a metal square studded belt gleaming around his hips. Veiny wrists clad in thick leather bands, some silver studded and spiked as well. Long slender fingers adorning pretty silver jewelry.

Jungkook always looks so good.

Damn him for being so fucking hot.

“Got anything on your mind?. Wanna share?.” He breaks the silence, staring back at you whilst taking a long drag from the thick blunt held within two digits. His leather jacket had been shrugged off the moment you both entered his room and now you’ve got the pleasure of staring at his beautiful tattooed arm and a few that litter the right side of his neck.

It’s a moment before you answer, eyes trailing up to his pretty irises that stare back at you, glazed over with a look you can’t quite pinpoint this instant, but it makes your insides feel on fire. If he knew what you were currently thinking about, you wonder what he’d say or do. The guy is almost always running through your mind, as much as you don’t want to admit it.

“I don’t think so.”

He hears you utter softly, tearing your gaze away to place your attention upon the many posters he’s got plastered over his wall instead. You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you anymore. Jungkook just loves eye contact.

“Why not?.” He sighs in disbelief, neglecting his half smoked blunt on the ashtray near him on his desk. It’s been silent for a bit between you, only his music makes it less awkward but it’s not uncomfortable. Jungkook had been wanting to say something to keep you interested, to get even closer to you. Although, he’s not sure if you’d wanna come back again after tonight, but he can’t help but think that you look like you belong here right beside him.

A breathy chuckle tumbles out of you along with smoke. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Because it’s simply not something I want you to know.”

Now Jungkook really wants to know what's going on inside that mind of yours. He’s got a few guesses, but he’s not so sure you’d like to hear them.

A sudden thought ponders in his mind and with a quirk of a brow he scoots a bit closer as he then suggests,

“Well, what if I tell you something in return?.”

The idea momentarily intrigues you, lifting your head to meet his excitement filled orbs. He almost looks innocent for a change.

“Mm, like what?.” You ask before inhaling another huff of the now shortened blunt.

Jungkook gets a bit distracted watching you and the way you blow out the smoke from your lips. Why do you make smoking look so hot?.

Another thing he finds himself distracted by is the peek of cleavage he sees by the first few buttons undone of your white blouse mandatory for your bartending gig. His throat constricts at the sight, arousal burning in his gut and Jungkook forces his eyes back up, delaying in his response to you.

“It can be anything.”

“Fine, tell me a secret.” You comply without much thought, not really minding the idea at all. It should be fun and simple, something else to keep the thoughts at bay.

Jungkook likes the sound of that, so he leans close and whispers in your ear. The deepness of his low timbre and lips slightly grazing the shell of your ear, it all sends a good tingle down your spine you try to fight off. You don’t want him to know the effect he has on you.

“I heard you the other night through the wall and I fucked my fist hard imagining it was you instead. Came so damn hard hearing the hot sounds you made.”

The filth he just confessed widens your eyes in slight surprise. Did he just say that?. The fact that Jungkook got off to the sound of you trying to make yourself cum after hours in bed and admitted it was so hot.

The walls are thin and you’ve found his bed is adjacent to yours with the same layout as your own apartment. So it’s no wonder he could hear you. Sometimes you hear him as well.

You very much heard him that night too and his desperate sexy moans through the walls fueled your own drive to your end with your hot neighbor in mind. So much for keeping the thoughts at bay, because now they stray further imagining what he might look like himself laying in bed chasing his own end. Most likely shirtless, boxers pulled halfway down with a tight fist wrapped around his hard cock, head thrown back, sweaty chest heaving, mouth wide open and groa— Okay! That’s enough!. You force the sinful thoughts to go away at once. It’s definitely not something you want to think about right now with him right beside you. It’s not so good for your foggy mind and the ache between your legs.

Jungkook leans back a bit, taking in the expression on your face with a teasing grin. He knows he’s got you all hot and bothered. You can try to hide it all you want, but he knows. Jungkook always knows.

“Your turn.” The whisper he rasps deeply in your ear fuels simmering heat in the pit of your tummy. It’s crazy how just hearing his voice is enough to make you feel all hot.

‘Come on Y/N. Keep it together’.

When you turn to look at him once again with those pretty eyes, all Jungkook wants is to simply tug you to him impossibly closer and kiss the fuck out of you. To taste those sweet lips he’s always dreaming about.

“I like that you walk me home every night, it’s sweet of you.” He barely hears your low voice, but you say it so lovely with a tiny smile peering up at him, giving him a glimpse of your pretty teeth.

How are you so fucking cute right now?. Especially after what he just confessed to you.

“I like you so much.” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to confess, passion dripping off his tongue. It tugs your heartstrings, but you pretend you didn’t hear it.

“That time you took a shower in my bathroom when you forgot a towel and I brought you one. Well, after you left I went to my room and touched myself because I thought you looked so hot half naked and with dripping wet hair.” It almost took a lot for you to admit that, but it just came out. A sheepish smile spreads across your face with slight embarrassment. You bring the blunt up to your lips for another much needed drag.

Since he shared a dirty secret, why not share one too. It’s only fair.

“Fuck, your so hot.” Jungkook groans at the thought, shutting his eyes for a moment as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth imagining you in bed desperately trying to get yourself off to the thought of him.

“I want you to come over more.” He then says, a bit eagerly turning back to you.

“I like the little talks we have and when you're kind enough to ask if I need help with anything.” You add on, gaze softening as you remember those times Jungkook was able to make you forget what a hard night you had with stories of his own that got a few laughs out of you or even asking about the things no one ever takes the time to learn about you, especially when he never does.

It’s what you really appreciate and a part of you hopes that you never lose the safe space that you feel with Jungkook, whenever you’re near him. He’s a comforting warmth, a home you terribly miss sometimes and he makes it all feel even a little better most times.

“You’re such a sweetheart and I hate when that motherfucker comes around when he treats you like shit.”

And suddenly it changes in a millisecond. You still briefly, body growing tense beside him and he notices the change as well when the smile slips off your face, knowing he hit a nerve he shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t have to say that.” Low and soft you utter tinged with sadness and he feels the disappointment in your words. In the way you look at him. Your hurt filled eyes tell him so. Striking a pang in his heart, but he can’t bear this any longer. Everything he feels on the inside. Himself. For you. About you. It’s always you.

“But it’s true. Why do you let it happen when…when you have me.” Jungkook sighs with the utmost pented frustration. He doesn’t get why you let yourself get treated so badly. That the lousy fucker is taking advantage of you and messing with your beautiful head. It’s sickening. His heart hurts knowing it and the fact that he can’t necessarily do anything about it. At least not without hurting you in the process by butting into your toxic relationship. You’d probably stop speaking to him if he tried to as well, something he certainly cannot risk. But here he is doing just that. Jungkook can’t let it happen anymore.

“It’s…it’s just complicated.”

It’s all you could ever say, he’s heard it all before. It’s always so fucking complicated and it seems like it’s never going to get uncomplicated any time soon either. Deep down you know this, but you’re too stubborn to still try to make it work.

“It wouldn’t be with me.” He clasps his hand over yours that’s resting upon your naked thigh, gently squeezing your plush skin in a comforting manner. It startles you, makes you feel those things all over again. Everything he’s saying is getting to your head and taking over your body. Maybe it’s the weed. It’s definitely the weed.

“What are you doing?.” With furrowed brows in confusion, you pull your hand away from under his searing touch and scoot further to create some type of distance. He’s too close for comfort, for the addictive feeling he provides that’s all too consuming.

You’re slipping away from him, putting up those walls he’s been trying to tear down for months now. He won’t let you, not this time.

“I just wanna show you how sweet I could be to you.” Jungkook never tears his gaze away, eyes holding so much emotion that you almost can’t hold it together yourself and it’s enough to crack some of the hard shelled resolve you’ve tried scraping together in a desperate attempt to stay put, never stray.

“You are sweet Jungkook, so sweet I-…I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.” You sighed out almost defeatedly as you slump your head against his wall, staring up at the ceiling.

He’s the sweetest and everything opposite from the man you’ve been seeing. Jungkook cares about you so much, you can tell by the way he’s always looking out for you. The things he says, the things he does for you even when you don’t ask for it. The efforts he makes in getting to know the real you and when he gives you the heart-melting look that makes you want to unleash the deepest parts of you that you never share with anyone else. To let him have his way. Let him have you.

“I want you, you already know this.” Jungkook’s husky whisper brings you back to him and the comforting yet suffocating confines of his bedroom.

He wants to so badly reach out and hold your hand. Have you look at him again and make you hear his heart out till it’s full content, till you know everything he hopes, dreams and desires for.

“You don’t need that stupid pretty boy, I bet he doesn’t know how to take care of you since I keep hearing you night after night.” Jungkook shakes his head, gently leaning closer to have you near him again. Within his four walls, inches, millimeters. It’s never enough for Jungkook and it never will be. If he could sear himself into your skin, meld himself forever to your body, he would if it meant never parting from you. If it meant you’d belong to him and he belonged to you.

Wouldn’t you want that too?.

Your breath hitches at how terribly right he is. It’s always half assed and most of the time you never finish, leaving you high and dry and it hurts whenever he leaves right after, stinging your heart and pride. Leaving you alone in bed to cry, wallowing in self pity.

“Plus, I’m way prettier.”

Of course, he speaks no lies. Jungkook’s the prettiest and handsomest you’ve ever seen. No one could compare nor compete. You’re always staring a little too long at his pretty plush lips and the shiny lip ring pierced into his skin you find so hot, glittering doe eyes, flawless features that always steals the breath from your lungs whenever you see him. He’s like a perfect daydream come to life.

“I just know I could have that pussy soaking for me in seconds.” He’s in your ear again and again his hand gently grips over your thigh, fingers sinking in between the skin where they meet.

The sudden touch has you snapping your head to look back at him, startled and he’s so close. If you lean in just a bit you could kiss him. Jungkook smiles his cute smile down at you as his hand kneads your plush thigh.

“Huh, you just need to hear my voice and have me look at you like this, don’t you?.” He rasps deeply. The sound rich in your ears that sends a pulse and multitude of flutters to your pussy.

He isn’t wrong. Jungkook doesn’t have to do much to get you wet and going. Especially when he lives in your mind most late nights.

He hums and pushes his hand further between your legs and you slightly pull them apart for him, falling into his sweet temptation. You bet his long and slender fingers would feel so good, better than your own on those nights when you’re desperate.

“I bet you’re so wet right now. I could take care of it.”

A soft moan escapes you at the first light stroke of his finger against your covered clit he finds easily.

“There she is, let me in baby, please.” He rubs it over a few more times, nail grazing it gently before his hand fully engulfs your heat, cupping it in his hold. Palm digging against your mound and rubbing it in a slow but hard tandem that pulls a loud moan from your throat, unable to hold it back and you allow your eyes to fall shut, basking in the pleasure he provides. Gently rocking your hips up against the firmness of his palm. He drops his head beside yours, groaning into your ear as he feels wetness seeping through your panties. Cock hardening to life, throbbing painfully and the tightness in his jeans is beginning to feel almost unbearable.

“I know you want me too.” Jungkook urges, breath picking up and suddenly you snap out of his spell, quickly removing his hand from between your legs.

No. It’s too much. You can’t let yourself fall too deep in whatever this is between you. It isn’t fair to Jungkook and yourself, not when he’s still in the picture.

“You’re delusional.” You spat with spite, scooting further away from him once again. Disappointed with every second that you almost let yourself get pulled astray into his tight clutches.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. He grins amusedly and shuffles his way to you on his bed. “Maybe, but you are too if you think things are gonna work out with that little boy.”

“It might.” You retort weakly, although you don’t sound so sure yourself.

He cackles, throwing his head back.

“Oh, sweetheart it wouldn’t and you know it.”

Jungkook is beside you once again and continues on his little spiel.

“I know you like me too. You can’t stay away either. Stop lying to yourself. You want me to keep looking at you, want me to keep coming over and ask for stupid shit cause’ you know I just wanna see you. You want me to keep wanting you, but baby I could only hold out for so long.”

His words rattle you, stir something in you that you try to force down, but perhaps Jungkook is right. You like the guy, absolutely adore him and maybe if you had met him first, in different circumstances. One where you're a better version of yourself, not struggling, not so desperate for a new change in life, things could be different.

“Why do you like me so much?.” A frustrated sigh heaves past your lips, looking back at him with deep perplexity.

Who would like you like this?. Want you this way?.

You know he’s liked you ever since you moved in all those months ago and you’ve always wondered why. What did he see in you?. What made him want you this much?.

“Because I did the moment I saw you. It just happened. I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, always.” Jungkook’s eyes are practically heart shaped, staring back at you with such intensity yet a loving softness that makes your whole world spin out of control.

Smoke wafts between you and the now neglected bud between your fingers continue to burn just like your desire for him.

You don’t know if it would ever die like fiery embers, fade away into nothingness. It possibly couldn’t. He’s always fueling the fire.

“No one’s captured my sole attention so easily like you do. I’m so drawn to you and I can’t help it. I like how sweet you really are. I like watching you get excited over little things because I hardly get to see you that way. Like that time we stopped at the convenience store on the way home and you were so happy they restocked those jelly candies you like so much. It was really cute.”

Your breath hitches and your insides turn to mush.

Fuck, what is he doing?.

Jungkook chuckles, seemingly thinking of something else before he goes on to tell you more.

“You’re cute when you think you’re alone in the laundromat, with your earphones in, singing along to your music and doing little dances. You care, even if you get irritated with me sometimes, you still don’t hesitate to help and I know you’re smart. I’ve sneaked a peek of your architecture designs and ideas before in your room when you weren’t looking.”

He sees the second your eyes widen with shock and slight irritation but before you could say anything on the matter, he beats you to it.

“They’re great, you don’t need to give up something you love just for someone who doesn’t deserve you. You don’t need him at all to make it. You could do that on your own.” Jungkook speaks everything he means and the way he’s looking at you right now is scary because deep down you know it’s true. You tear your glossed over eyes from his ardent ones and shuffle off of his bed completely.

“You know, I came here to forget things but you’re only making it harder by bringing this shit up Jungkook. I don’t need this right now. I’d appreciate it if you could just mind your own fucking business for once.” You’re snagging your purse from his bedside table and yanking it onto your shoulder, putting out the neglected blunt on the ashtray near his soft glowing lamp light.

His brows pin together in deep confusion and hurries off his bed as well with abruptness, trailing after you.

“You know I can’t when it comes to you.”

Standing beside you in a second, eyes moving frantically over the side of your face. He places a hand upon your shoulder, shaking you gently for a second more of your attention.

What had he done?. He just told you half of what he loves and admires of you and then you're running away the next second, looking mad at him as if he’s the one who's to blame for the hell in your life.

“Would you please look at me?.”

You don’t give him that, too busy trying to get your heels back on as you hold onto his wall for support. You’re leaving and Jungkook’s panicking. He’s in front of you now, invading your space as you shift to get the other heel on.

“If you want to forget, I could make you.”

“I know what you really need, just say the words and I will.” He urges on, watching you intensely for your next move and impatiently of the words you speak.

“I need to go.” Is all you mutter, moving past him to his door as you reach for the old brass knob.

Jungkook’s fingers clutch tightly onto the band of your black skirt from behind as a last resort to stop you from twisting it open and leaving.

“Fine. If you leave, then this is the last time I’ll ever bother you. You want me to stay out of your business, I will. I’ll leave you alone for good.” You hear him huff in a threatening snarl, yanking his touch off of you as he backs away to give you the space you clearly wanted.

“I don’t want to keep waiting around for something that’s not gonna happen. I need to move on too.” He then spits with sharp bitterness.

You turn around to meet his frustrated dark orbs. Brows pinched in a mean furrow as he watches you.

It should be enough for you to walk away, to walk out of his room and never look back. He’s making it easy for you but so hard to do so at the same time. If this means not seeing him everyday, his pretty smiles, the talks you two share on the way home together and basking in the comfort he brings you by simply being within his presence. Abandoning the home he’s made in your heart. Fuck!. You can’t do it. You shouldn’t have gotten too close. It was going to hurt either way, you or him and all you’ve been doing is hurting him and ultimately yourself in the process.

“You’re always in the way. Why do you always make everything so goddamn hard, Jungkook.” You huff so frustratedly, shoulders dropping along with your resolve because you can’t do this anymore.

He shakes his head vehemently, jaw tensing as he takes a step closer. His heavy gaze pierces your being. It makes you feel small and pathetic. You are in this moment and so weak for Jungkook and all of what he makes you feel.

“No, you do that on your own. You want to stay miserable with that fucker be my guest, but you know I’d take care of you way better than him. I may not be rich like he is, but I can still give you everything you need.”

Jungkook states, now standing directly in front of you. He never loses the mean furrow or the frustration and burning anger in his eyes you witness. Baring them to you and it takes all of you to keep yourself rooted in place, to not step up to him, lean in and put out the fire yourself.

“I’ll always take care of you. Always make you feel wanted and special because you are to me. I love you but you make it so hard for me when you act like the dumb and weak little thing he wants you to be for him.” The nasty edge of the last sentence he grits through clenched teeth strikes a nerve within you. You know how awfully right he is. It’s draining and a pain how right Jungkook always is but never as much as it is being with him. Despite his crude words, his touch upon your cheek as he curls a strand of hair behind your ear is gentle and soft just how he is with you.

The way you fell for him.

“I want you to be my proud shining gem, my sweet girl.” Harsh gaze softening, cradling your cheek like you’re a precious porcelain doll. He whispers near your lips, pure adoration melting into you and your lustrous eyes warm with a passion that his heart yearns for. Eyes falling to your lips he’s aching on the inside to get a taste of, he can’t help it.

This time you can’t turn away. Can’t stop the feeling he's bloomed inside you ever since you met him in the hallway the first week you moved in all those months ago. This time you can’t fight it and push everything you feel for Jungkook in the deep crevices within that you never look for.

You let yourself feel it all. Your frustration, your weak temptations for the man standing before you that looks at you like you are the whole universe. Deep yearning and ache whenever he’s near. His anger, his frustration, his comfort and all his love. It’s all you truly want.

It’s what drives you to close the hair's breadth distance in between and meld your lips against his soft ones. You feel him go rigid and still for the briefest moment in slight surprise. It’s like electric currents shocking through him at once and he’s tangling his hand in your hair and the other at the side of your neck, kissing you back with just as much fervor. Both of your tongues wrestle together, ravishing each other like you’ve been starved all your life. Teeth clashing, mixed saliva staining the corners of your mouth and chin as you taste one another.

Jungkook pulls you by the waist and yanks you back with him towards the edge of his bed, manhandling you around as he pulls apart from your lips to push you back on his bed. He’s on you in a second and devouring your lips once again. Groaning into your mouth at the taste of you, so sweet and so addictive. Soft moans of yours into his mouth he swallows up and they get louder and desperate at the way he grinds his hips against your covered mound.

“Want you so fucking bad. Always.” Jungkook breathily moans against your cheek, lips traveling past your jaw and upon your neck. Suckling and mouthing hot wet kisses against your skin in his wake to explore your body.

You moan in response, tangling your fingers into his dark hair and tugging at the strands. His touch, kisses, everything feels so amazing. You can’t believe you kept yourself from this. From him for so long.

He paints his own marks into the side of your neck whilst his hands bunch your skirt up to expose your covered core in sexy black lace panties. He pulls his lips apart and lifts his head to peer down at you.

“Can I make you feel good?.” Jungkook groaned softly against you, smooth palm rubbing over your covered cunt and when his fingers brush over your clit through the fabric, how could you deny him when the simple touch of him makes you feel so damn good. Body hot, tingling and aching desperately for him.

“Yes, please! Please!.” You softly moan, nodding your head rapidly up at him.

Jungkook chuckles lightheartedly, swiping strands of hair back from your flushed face.

“Heh, aw, you sound so pretty when you beg like that.”

Alas he skims his hand beneath the hem of your panties and plays with your slick folds, spreading them apart with his fingers. They drift lower and feel just how wet you already are and Jungkook groans in delight.

“Fuck, so wet baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll show you how good I can, better than he ever could.”

Your body squirms underneath his big frame towering above you, whines and moans escaping you as he cops his feel of your hot pulsating pussy and a startled gasp tumbles past your lips when Jungkook suddenly tears your panties down your thighs quite aggressively till they fall off your feet.

He pushes your thighs apart and you spread them wider for him as he lowers himself down your body to fully engulf the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt to his hungry eyes. Glossy with your slick, puffed and throbbing just for him. A sharp intake of breath is heard as he stares intensely at your gaping hole. His cock grows harder at the sight and Jungkook has to hold himself back, fingers wrinkling the sheets hard in his hold at the side of your head.

God, you drive him to insanity and he knows he’s not gonna last long once he finally gets to be inside you.

“Jungkook, please don’t just stare.” His eyes snap up towards your face and sees the complete lust swirling in your irises. The furrow between your brows, begging him to do something just like your cunt throbs for the same thing.

“I need you.”

He moans throatily at your desperate plea and it has him springing into action. Leaning back up to smash his lips against yours with his fingers back between your wet folds. He swallows up your whines when his fingers rub your needy clit, gathering the juices you leak to spread all over your bud he plays with. Back arching and mouth falling open against his as he sinks two digits inside immediately with how drenched you absolutely are, coating them fully.

“Oh!. Oh my- fuck!-“ A near-sob racks through you, head falling back against the sheets.

“Feels good huh. You're squeezing my fingers so tight, baby.” Jungkook purrs in your ear, plunging his digits in and out of your plush walls in a maddening pace that already has you a quivering mess beneath him.

Obscene squelches of his fingers fucking your soaked pussy fill the otherwise silence of his bedroom. You don’t even remember when you last heard the remnants of the playlist he had playing long moments ago. All your clouded mind and body knows is the hot pleasure coursing through your veins, just how good Jungkook is making you feel.

Your breathy and whiny moans raise octaves higher the deeper he reaches inside your cunt each time he pounds his digits back in, finding that special spongy spot that gushes more of your essence, dripping down his hand and wetting his sheets below. He doesn’t care one bit of the mess you’re making, hell no, it only fuels his carnal desire to see you make an even bigger mess, to see just how fucking wetter he can get your pretty pussy for him.

“Right there huh?. Mmm, fuck you’re so hot. So perfect for me, sweetheart.” He’s so turned on, body buzzing with hot arousal watching you squirm and the way your wet pussy tightens around his fingers. No thoughts but your tight plush cunt, the hot sounds you make that sends his cock throbbing in his jeans begging for a feel of you. Filled with the sudden urge as he licks the side of your face up, tongue flattening and leaving a sheen of his saliva before biting the apple of your cheek hard with a deep groan rumbling against your skin.

The action you find oddly hot yourself and he knows it too by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers hard. He catches your pretty face that contorts deeply in pleasure, watching him with fucked out eyes, mouth wide open of your cute moans falling one after the other at the fast pace he fucks your cunt.

Fuck, how are you so fucking beautiful like this?. How do you always manage to outdo yourself and make him fall harder for you 100x more than he already has.

Needing to taste you all over again, he drives his tongue down your open mouth, sucking and wrestling with yours in a frantic heated rhythm. Jungkook practically devours you, never wanting to part and both your saliva mixed makes the kiss more messy and nasty than it already is.

He never ceases the harsh pace his fingers pound into you nor does he give you a moment to breath kissing you like he’ll never get to again.

“Mmm!- Ju- ngh!.” You struggle against him to get some air in, voice muffled against his mouth.

How he ravishes you and fucks your leaking pussy, it’s almost too much and the coil in your stomach further expands, almost ready to explode any moment at how heavenly you feel.

Jungkook gets one last long kiss of your lips then pulls apart finally and you get blessed with the sight of his rosy, plump lips with a sheen of your mixed salivas coating them. There’s small streaks of your smeared red lipstick at the corner of his lips and down his chin as well. He looks so pretty and the sight of him sends your cunt pulsating a multitude of currents around his fingers.

A whine of protest leaves you the second he backs away a bit, hands pushing your thighs higher against your chest and he lifts a brow at you to comply.

“Be a good girl and hold them up for me.” In a heartbeat, you hook your hands beneath the fold of your knees and keep them up like he wants.

“Good girl.” Jungkook hums with satisfaction and leans back over you, dropping his head against your forehead, dark lidded eyes boring into yours.

“Baby, I want you to watch me make this perfect pussy squirt for me.”

You moan in response and when he shifts his head to look down, so do you and your breath gets caught in your throat.

Watching him continue to batter your pussy with his two long pretty fingers plunging in and out at a menacingly fast and hard pace. With his tattooed hand that is clad in his leather and silver bracelets, a thick black one with spikes. Eyes skimming over the veins that pop out prominently from the strain he’s putting on his tattooed arm to make you cum. Fingers reaching so deep in your pussy you nearly can’t take it anymore as he pounds and twists his digits in. It’s all enough to have you quake with immense pleasure, eyes wanting to fall shut but you fight to keep them open, orbs crossing over and the band in your tummy snaps at once as you cum hard, jets of your essence shooting out your gaping hole the moment Jungkook pulls his fingers out to see your pussy squirt like he so badly wanted to.

It splashes over your whole mound, wetting your thighs with droplets and soaking his sheets below your bottom as well as sprinkling some spots on his dark denim jeans.

“Holy shit!. That’s so fucking hot. You’re so- Mmm!- So hot, baby.” Jungkook growls almost animalistically, cupping both your cheeks and giving you a searing kiss, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting into the plump flesh before letting it go.

He nearly came in his pants at the sight of your pussy squirting and the obscene view of it soaking wet, still pulsating from the intense pleasure he gave you.

“One more time before I fuck your pussy, wanna see it again.” Jungkook pleads while pecking your lips with chaste kisses over and over.

“No!. I don’t thin-“ You immediately shake your head whining at the thought, you're so sensitive and you’re not so sure you can do it again. It was a whole new intense feeling for you.

Jungkook seems to think otherwise, nodding his head down at you.

“Yes, baby. Yes you can. I’ll fuckin’ make you do it again for me.”

With that, he’s shoving the same two digits back into your sloppy cunt, sinking in knuckle deep and fucking his fingers in your pussy twice as fast and hard. So determined to make you explode like a waterfall once more.

Your moans become uncontrollable, high in pitch as you throw your head back. Body buzzing with hot searing pleasure, hips and legs shaking violently as you lay there and take it. His fingers reach so deep, jackhammering into your g spot over and over in a frenzy.

Jungkook sucks in a deep breath, moaning along with you. So addicted to watching the sight of your beautiful tear stained face cry out in ecstasy then down below where he fucks your soaked pussy, fingers drenched in your sweet juices. Damn, he doesn’t know which sight to focus on more.

You’re quaking with intense pleasure, so loud and crying out for him. He feels a hand of yours clinging onto the front of his shirt and tugs, needing something to help you grasp reality but you’re too far gone. Too drunk off of the way he’s making you feel with his fingers alone.

“Shit!. You’re gonna cum. Gonna fuckin’ squirt for me. Can feel it sweetheart. Squeezing me so damn tight.” Your walls grip his digits so tight he almost can’t pull out all the way, so he keeps abusing them deeper against that sweet spot of yours.

“I- fuckkk!. Jungkook!. I can’t- Nghh!. Oh!.” You sob aloud, almost pathetically as your body shakes violently underneath him. You’re so close, he can feel it and Jungkook is just as desperate as you are to have you reach euphoria.

“Yes you can. C’mon baby, let go for me. Fuckin’ give it to me please!.” Jungkook coos down at you with low growls and pleas of his own. It’s all it takes to have you reach your end. “Hah!. Fuck fuck fuckkkk.” Convulsing, eyes blown in ecstasy staring back at him as you cum so hard around his digits. Splashing more of your essence all over his hand and pussy absolutely drenched with your wetness.

Jungkook stares mesmerized at the mess he’s made of you and he can’t help but to play with you a bit more. Splaying his fingers flat over your folds, further spreading your wetness all over. You’re so soaked, swollen red and still so sensitive. You push his hand away with a helpless yelp of protest.

He surprises you as he lifts his hand and licks your slick off of his fingers, sticking the same ones he fucked you with in his mouth. Sucking on them and moaning in delight at your taste as he does so. A breath of yours hitches, feeling hot all over once again at the lewd sight of him enjoying the taste of you off his fingers.

“Mmm, so fuckin’ good. Love your taste…need more.”

Before you know it Jungkook lowers himself between your spread legs, face diving first into your pussy. A sharp gasp escapes you fleetingly, chest heaving and you watch from above as he laps at your folds. Drunken orbs staring up at you before they fall shut with brows furrowed deeply in pleasure like he’s the one getting eaten out.

“S-stop!. Pleasseee!.” You nearly scream as he tongue fucks your hole, thighs clamping tight around his head as you try to wiggle feel, but Jungkook doesn’t care and wraps his arms around your thighs to stop you from thrashing in his hold.

“Mmngh…just a taste, baby.” The vibrations of his growl against your pussy sends a rack of shivers through you and you whine helplessly, trying to pull him off by the grip of his hair.

“Hah!. Uh- that’s enough!.” You yank harder and this time he relents, mouth pulling off of your slick pearl with a wet suck.

The taste of you lingers on his tongue and he’s become so addicted to it. He didn’t want to stop and have you keep cumming on his face, in his mouth, on his tongue and drink all you have to offer up like the best thing in the world. Jungkook rests his forehead against your sweaty one, heavy breaths mixing with your pants and fanning over your cheeks. Carnal passion burning in his pretty smudge eyeliner orbs. He’s so fucking hot and your pussy clenches hard staring up at him. He pecks your lips once and twice more, missing them on him.

“Next time, I’ll make you cum on my tongue. Eat this sweet pussy for hours till you beg me to fuckin stop and trust me, I won’t want to.” Jungkook promises, backing away to finally unbuckle his studded belt, watching you as he does so and your pretty pussy that still throbs for him.

His words catch you off guard for a moment and excitement courses within you at the thought of doing this again. Smile growing wide as you watch him get his pants off while you lift your own top overhead, fingers undoing your bra and tossing it aside.

He stills for a moment, sucks in a breath at the sight of you, plump breasts, all naked, and exposed lying there just for him.

“Fuck, look at you. So beautiful.” Jungkook whispers more to himself as he lifts his own t-shirt overhead and you marvel at the beauty he is. He’s well defined, built of scrumptious muscles, prominent veins you have a certain attraction for with a snatched waist you're almost jealous of and deep v-lines leading to his clean shaven dick that stands tall and proud. Your eyes immediately zero in on it. He’s painfully hard, big and girthy, mushroom tip an angry red with beads of precum leaking down his shaft. It twitches a few times and he can’t help but to wrap his hand around himself, squeezing his base and lightly jacking himself off for a bit.

His dick is so pretty just like him. Every inch of his body is absolutely beautiful.

It’s so hot seeing him touch himself and watching you with heavy lust filled eyes as he does so. It has you slithering a hand past your naval and parting your folds, slipping your fingers inside. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling and it seems to have snapped something in Jungkook because suddenly he’s yanking your hand out of your pussy and pulling it up to his lips. Sucking on your digits for another taste of you. Throwing your hand back down and leaning over your smaller frame as he grabs you by the throat with slight pressure.

You're a bit startled but so excited and utterly turned on by him and the slight aggression he shows towards you, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer. He grabs himself by the base and lines his cock with your leaking hole, resting his mushroom tip against it just barely pushing in.

“Do you still want this with me?. Tell me.” He adds more pressure upon your throat, lightening his grip a moment after to have you answer him properly.

Though you nod your head frantically at his words along with desperate pleas falling rapidly from your lips.

“Yes. I want you so bad, Jungkook. Only you.”

“Fuck!.” He hisses, pushing the entirety of his hard length inside your pussy to the hilt in one go with no resistance due to how wet you still are. Body going still and muttering curses against your cheek, breath hitching at how heavenly you feel around his cock. So fucking wet, plush walls chocking him tight and the flutters of your pussy inside he can feel has him on edge already, eyes nearly rolling because fuck, do you feel so goddamn good.

“Fucking tight. God, feel so perfect baby.” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting more marks into your skin since the ones from before are starting to fade. You’re his now and if you don’t know it already he’ll make you.

“Mm!. Please fuck me Jungkook.” You moan wantonly, bucking your hips up for friction. His cock fills you up so good you can hardly think straight, being stretched out by him.

“Shh, baby. I’ll make you feel so good. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” He lifts his head up, staring directly into your eyes and tightening his hold around your throat again as he drags his big cock out till the fat tip, slamming back into you hard. Repeating the motion over and over at a maddening pace.

Both your groans and moans fill his bedroom mixed with skin slapping and the obscene sound of his cock plunging deep into your soaking pussy with wet squelches.

“Harder!. Hngh. Please!.” You grab at his shoulder and biceps, nearly sobbing when he gives you just what you want. Pounding your pussy deeper and rough with hard thrusts, heavy balls smacking against your ass. Both your legs are tossed over his shoulders and he’s got your thighs pressed against your chest with his body nearly crushing you. He loves the way you look beneath him, so small and cute.Tattooed hand still around your throat choking you with enough pressure to send you reeling.

“So fuckin’ pretty. Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He groans roughly against your lips, slipping his tongue out and into your mouth. Making out with you in a sloppy and heated manner.

“Nngh…feel so- Ahh!. So- so good!.” His cock fucks into you so deep, hitting your sweet spot directly each time. Legs shaking, body quaking and face contorted in immense pleasure, tears streak your pink cheeks as you whine and sob like a desperate little thing begging to cum undone.

“Know it does, baby. Pussy squeezing me so good. Gonna fuckin’ cum soon.” His words are broken heaves, brows pinched and mouth open of moans that have you clenching harder on his cock, making it difficult pulling halfway out with each drag. He's definitely not gonna last long like he initially thought.

Your soaked pussy hugs him snuggly and the lewd sight of it swallowing his big cock, creamy white ring surrounding his base and balls with both your essence mixed. He throbs inside of you, nearing his own release.

“Gonna let me cum inside?, sweetheart.” Jungkook grunts hotly above you, hips snapping harshly into yours.

“Mhmm!. Please!. Want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your high pitched squeals and pleas are like music to his ears. Each sound drives him closer to his sweet end.

“Fuck, keep begging me like that and I’ll bust inside this pretty cunt.” He gruffs, stomach caving in with each clench of your pussy as you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“Ohh!. Please!. Want you to fill me up. Make a mess in my pussy, please!.” You babble out, moaning aloud as you do so and cling onto him tighter. Your tits bounce so hypnotizingly with every pound you take and Jungkook removes his hand from your neck to fondle each one, pulling and twisting your puffy nubs that makes you an even whiner mess.

Jungkook loves this so much, and thinks he could never get used to this because he’s always going to want to see you this way. Over and over now that he’s got a taste and feel of you.

“Did you ever let him?.” He doesn’t know what propels him to ask. Voice an octave deeper in a husk and almost stern. Maybe it’s the way you squeeze around him to Heaven and back, or the thought that he’s seen you this way before.

Did that asshole ever have you like this?. Have you a crying and moaning mess?. Creaming his cock and looking like the perfect sin while doing so. Looking beautiful and so drunk off his dick fucking you so good. He possibly couldn’t right?.

With rapid shakes of your head at his words, you moan your truths to him. So fucked out and desperate to even think straight.

“Not w-without a condom…no one’s ever-“

His steady rhythm falters and he presses his weight into you, holding you tight against his embrace as his arms wrap under you. Head against yours and staring down into your pretty drunken stare.

“Shit!. Hngh. Gonna f-fuckkk…claim this pussy. You're mine, baby.”

You keep your gaze focused on him but your eyes roll back once you feel his hand slip down in between and rub your clit with his calloused fingers in rapid figures of eight.

“Cum with me baby, please.” Jungkook pleads hoarsely, hot breath panting against your face.

“C’mon, milk my fuckin’ cock. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

His cock pounds into you so deliciously with his fingers on your clit and the way he stares down at you, cooing filthy words, looking so hot as he does so. It's all overwhelming and what snaps the coil in your tummy. You clench so hard around him as you cum, soaking his cock with your essence. Jungkook follows in close pursuit, painting your walls with spurts of his white hot release, cock pressed so deep and hips stuttering against you.

“Fucckkk!. Shit!. Hah…Nghh.” His body falls against yours, chest heaving with unsteady breaths as he tries to calm his racing heart.

You’re no better, panting and staring up at the ceiling basking in the afterglow of the amazing pleasure and orgasm he gave you, his cum seeping out of you.

Jungkook lifts his head up to meet your gaze just as you look down and he shuffles closer in dire need to kiss you but a wince tumbles out of you suddenly that he pauses abruptly midway.

“It hurts.” You say with a soft groan, wiggling your back, indicating the spiked band cuffing his wrist was poking against your skin in an uncomfortable way.

You hadn’t noticed it until now, too lost in pleasure during sex to pay any mind to it before.

“Oh fuck!- I’m sorry.” Jungkook is quick to apologize, leaning up from your body to remove his arms. He rips the band off his wrist at once, pouting at the obvious indents he also notices he left above your chest where he had grabbed you by the throat during sex.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You reassure him with a small smile, hand clasped over his own that softly rests against your stomach.

It’s grown silent but not uncomfortable and now that you’re both not clouded with lust or driven by overwhelming emotions, Jungkook wants to tell you that this meant something to him. That everything he does for you will always mean something deeper to him. He doesn’t know if you’ve gotten it through your head yet just how much you really mean to him. How much he’s loved you all this time when you were too busy with that fool, stuck in your own four walls and in your own world most of the time.

You never really let him in, but he wants to know more of your world. Explore it with you and expand it with him.

Would it be something that you would want?. Or would you go back to your rich boyfriend who treats you like crap each time you two get together.

With a deep breath, Jungkook gathers himself before he could tell you all of this and he clears his throat, breaking the silence at once.

“Listen, I wanted to-“

A blaring ringtone rudely interrupts Jungkook and you both stare back at each other, brows furrowed in confusion. You lean up a bit and he backs up to give you space as you reach for your discarded purse on his floor. Bringing it back with you on his bed, you grab for the device inside and see the name lit up across the screen.

It’s him.

You hesitate and don’t answer it, peering up at Jungkook who watches you intensely. He has that look on his face and glazed over eyes silently pleading with you.

He quickly snatches the phone from you so suddenly, peeking at the screen before turning it off completely. Jungkook’s pushing you back down into his bed, hovering over you.

“Don’t go back to him. Stay.” He pleads, desperately so.

Please choose me.

You know what he’s really asking of you, you see it in his eyes and your heart sinks when you realize what he’s possibly thinking right now.

Reaching up, you cradle his cheek and bring his face down to you, catching his lips with yours in a deep kiss. Pulling back, you promise him with your whole heart, every fiber inside you burning to be with him.

He’s the only one who's ever truly made you feel wanted, loved and saw you for who you are. Jungkook never once tried to control you, take over your life, isolate you, tell you pretty lies, tear you down only to bring you back up and do it all over again because he liked seeing you cry. Never threatened to hurt you if you didn’t comply with whatever he wanted and he sure as hell never came to you smelling like another woman's intoxicating perfume.

He wasn’t like him and you were so done being with someone who doesn’t treat you like you deserve. For once, you choose happiness and your happiness belongs with Jungkook and the life you could finally start living for yourself.

“I won’t go anywhere, Jungkook. I want to stay with you.”

Jungkook knows what you mean when you say those words, he can feel it. He can see it reflecting back at him and his heart has never felt so good before because for once, his happiness chose him back and he’d never trade it for anything in this world.

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this!. Tysm for reading 🫶🏻 pls let me know yours thoughts & feelings 🎀

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onlyswan · 2 months

Text

summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months

Text

Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?”

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people�� Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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yummyyummie · 1 year

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To think doodling these back in early february was what (sort of) kickstarted this whole thing, turns out, be careful what you decide to draw cause even if ironically at first it can quickly turn into something else :V

Didn't help it was a lowkey thing in the background for the longest time anyways

#tw vore #v0re #safe vore #soft vore #snake #oc marimoo #oc vexx #my art #my characters #testing things in dnd can lead to some realizations that's for sure #then doodling it on top of that? nah dog you're playing with fire then #at least the group is nice about it cause as friends we're all very respecting of each other :3 #even if the teasing is endless #but it's all in good fun~

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constantinerkives · 11 months

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PAIRING: Hotel Magnate! Yoo Jimin x College student! Fem reader _____________ WARNINGS: Sugar Mommy AU, college AU, age gap, OC is in her final year of college while YJM is 34, profanity, strangers to paramours, Chopard and Cannes Film Festival Karina, good lord. OC has a slight crush on the dean lmao. OC short-circuits when pretty, older women talk to her. Smut, oral (K receiving), strap-on sex (reader receiving), Dom! Karina, mommy kink, OC ain't a virgin, riding, rough sex, cock-warming, or was it strap-warming? (IDK, but you catch my drift, yeah?), shower sex, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of a vibrator, pool sex, biting, marking, fingering, that's pretty much it, I think. _____________ WORDCOUNT: 14.7K Sorry, this was self-indulgent yall, my bad💀🤩 _____________ A/N:

You asked; I shall deliver. Oh - and please see the header for synopsis and turn on your sound hehe.

"Ning Yizhou, what the fuck-"

"Shut up and listen, will you?" She cuts you off with a glare and turns her MacBook screen towards you. "You need this."

You clamp your mouth shut and allow the younger girl to continue. The ash-blonde girl takes a seat across from you and shows you a site from the internet. You sit before the latter with the pads of your fingers tapping against your thighs. Ningning observes you warily before knotting her fingers together. "After hearing your rants for months about how the school's kicking both your ass and wallet, I propose a solution."

"By being a sugar baby," You snort. She shoots you a silencing look. "Let me finish, Y/N."

She shows you her profile, "This website is safe, and it strictly monitors the chats of both parties. It is consensual and beneficial for person A and person B." She then shows you her chat with her sponsor; the profile read: Uchinaga Giselle. If your memory serves you correctly, she is the managing director of AE Industries, a definition of young, rich, and beautiful. "Woah, your sugar mommy is Giselle?"

Ningning's lips curl to a smirk, "Focus, Y/N. Have you read our conversation?"

"Yes," Your eyes skim the chat, "It's respectful and direct."

"Exactly," She grins and closes her MacBook. "Not all stories involving a life like this are scary, Y/N." Your friend presses a palm against her chest, "Like me, for example."

"Yeah, yeah," You sigh and lower your head, "I don't know, Ning." Her features soften as her hand reaches yours, her thumb rubbing comforting circles against the back of your palm.

"Some sugar mommies or daddies want to fill the void of being rich Y/N. Some want to soothe their overbearing parents, and some just have too much fucking money. They're mature and won't force you to do something you're not comfortable with for the sake of being spoiled in return."

You contemplated for a moment before curling your lips to a smile. "Fuck it, Ning. I'm in." Your friend grins and opens her MacBook. "Leave your profile to me, Y/N. And pick a dress you'll be using for the ceremony. You need to look fresh for tomorrow." Right. Before this discussion with Ningning, you received an email from Hanyang University that you're a dean's lister for the second semester.

"Thanks, Ning." You stand from the table and make your way to her room.

"Y/N!" Minjeong squeals upon seeing your familiar figure as more awardees enter the venue, "I'm relieved! I thought I was going to be alone with strangers for the ceremony."

"Not anymore," You grin and crane your neck to examine the students on the premises. "Are we the only ones from our block?"

She follows your example and hums, "Seems like it, and - oh shit, the dean's heading this way!" You snap your head and lock eyes with the dean of your department. An automatic smile curls on your lips as you acknowledge her presence by bowing your head. "Miss Kim, Seol," The older woman greets with her slender digits knotted atop her stomach.

"Good evening, Miss Bae." You greet in return. Bae Joohyun, professionally known as Irene Bae, is the dean of your department. The woman couldn't be older than forty, fair-skinned, doe-shaped eyes framing sharp, intelligent obsidian-hued pupils, an upturned nose, a small face, and pink, plump lips. The dean is sporting a mint blue suit and white heels, and her long black hair tied in a low ponytail. The older woman's lips curl upward, "I see that it's only the two of you again from your block," She comments while you and Minjeong look at each other, uncertain. "And I'm impressed," Irene adds. You glow under her praise, "Thank you, Miss Bae."

The latter hums, "Do enjoy the celebration."

With that, she walks past you and Winter. You caught a whiff of the older woman's scent and let out a blissful sigh as you stagger. "Damn," Winter exhales as her head follows the older woman's slender figure, "If she wasn't the dean, I don't mind being smashed by her."

"Agree," You giggled as you watched the older woman interact with her faculty. "I guess I have a reason to study my ass off."

Then your stomach churns uncomfortably as an unpleasant thought voices your concern.

That is if you have the money to enroll for the final semester.

Blood drains from your body, and your smile drops. "I should find a job that should sustain me." You mutter under your breath as another feminine voice interjects: "Minjeong!" You snap from your reverie and raise your head. You spot Chaewon standing next to Yunjin and Ryujin; gesturing a hand to Winter, who looks at you with a small smile, "I'll hang around with them, yeah?" Her tone indicates permission, and you snort at her. "You don't need to ask for my approval, Winter. Go."

The latter guffaws and pats your shoulder, "Have a nice evening, Y/N." With that, she leaves to join the group.

You sigh, and your posture droops as your eyes scour your surroundings. Your vision dims at the sight of extravagance oozing from your peers and faculty. You clench and unclench your hands to calm your racing nerves before the voices behind your head speak up: You don't belong here.

And you painfully agree. How the hell did you manage to keep up?

"Excuse me, miss," Your ears perk upon hearing an unfamiliar deep yet feminine voice. Sultry and alluring. "But have you seen Joohyun?"

Joohyun? Your brows furrow. How can someone say the dean's name so casually?

You turn in the direction of the stranger, and your eyes subtly widen at the sight of the towering beauty behind you. Your eyes take in her appearance. Her long black hair was styled; slid back, allowing you to have a good glimpse at her smooth, fair countenance, familiar doe-shaped eyes framing those sharp, intelligent hazel-colored crevices. You mentally pick your jaw from the floor.

"Joohyun?" Your voice came out as a squeak, and you fought the urge to palm your face. "You mean our dean?"

A playful grin curls on her plump lips, "Yes," Her hazel-colored eyes scour your features, "And my," She purrs, "Aren't you a beauty?" Your cheeks warmed as the woman continued: "I should count myself lucky for asking a pretty girl like you." A subtle shade of pink dust your cheeks as you clear your throat softly, "Thank you," You muse as you shift your weight from one foot to another. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for-"

"Karina," Your posture straightens upon hearing her authoritative voice. Irene takes a stand beside you. Her face turns in your direction with slight surprise before she regains her calm countenance and returns her gaze to the said stranger: Karina.

"I see that you've met one of my students," The dean gestures a hand towards the raven-haired beauty. "Y/N, meet my..." She trails off before Karina's lips release a deep chuckle, shivers run down your spine, and your stomach churns at the sound. "Don't be shy now, Hyunnie."

Hyunnie?

Karina holds out her hand for you to shake, "I'm Karina Bae, her half-sister. And you are?"

Half-sister?

That explains the familiar features, and if you have to compare the two of them by age, Karina seems to be ten years younger than the older woman next to you. But still, both women are drop-dead gorgeous. They won the battle of genes.

"Seol Y/N," You reply in a trance as you reach to shake her hand, expecting a handshake, but she surprises you by bringing it up to brush her mouth against your knuckles, a shock traveling up your arm at the contact. Her eyes never leave yours, and you hold your breath, afraid you'll do something embarrassing if you do. Hopefully, your face doesn't show how the action flustered you. You gawk at her as she releases your hand.

"A pleasure, Y/N." Your body glows at the way her tongue smoothly caresses your name. It's embarrassing how quick you are to succumb to the younger Bae. You instinctively look away from her raving eyes as the dean clears her throat.

"Easy, Karina." The dean chides, "She's my student,"

A heart-throbbing smile graces Karina's lips, "Anyways," She raises a paper bag. Was she holding something all this time? How come you didn't notice? "As you can see, sister. I just returned from France," The hazel-eyed beauty hands it to her, "And I bought a present."

You eye the two of them, feeling as though you're intruding on a moment between the siblings. Irene's lips curl upwards and takes the paperbag, "You shouldn't have, Karina. Is that why you came here?"

"Of course," Karina grins, "I can't come back to my alma mater empty-handed now, can I?"

"Thank you, Karina."

The latter merely hums in reply, "I'll get going now. There's no need for me to stay if a party lacks drinks." She grins while Irene rolls her eyes. "It's protocol,"

"Sure," Karina turns to you, "Take care, Miss Seol."

Perhaps she was waiting for you to hold your hand out again, but your brain decided that risking another touch from this gorgeous woman would have undesirable consequences. A wave sufficed for now.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Karina."

You were wrong. Karina doesn't even have to touch you to get you woozy. Her wolfish smirk was enough to make your knees wobble. She departs, leaving your eyes to follow her lithe physique.

"I apologize on her behalf," The older Bae announces, and you move your gaze to her. You gulped. "She isn't usually like this. Perhaps staying in Paris rewired her behavior." You shake your head sideways, "It's fine Miss Bae. Have a wonderful evening," You tell her before bowing and departing from the dean.

Ningning automatically bombards you with her findings while you are at the ceremony.

"So your account has been receiving DMs," She grins with pride beaming in her delicate features as she slides you a takeout from her favorite fast-food chain, "All you have to do is to go through it with a fine-tooth comb and take your pick." She slides the MacBook in your direction, and your eyes widen at the number of requests.

"Woah," You mumble, feeling overwhelmed. Your friend catches on and sits next to you. "You don't have to make a choice overnight. You can scour it whenever you're free."

And that's what you did.

You spent your lunchtime and break times scouring the site for your potential benefactor.

For days, no one caught your eye, until a woman popped up on your screen.

Yoo Jimin

You clicked on her profile, half of her face was hidden, but those plump lips, the lighting, and the prominent collarbones beneath the lapels of her blazer pulled you to dig deeper into her account. You press the photo where she is leaning her back against the gold railing of Hotel Olympia. Jimin was wearing a form-fitting black dress showing off her slender figure. On her hand was a champagne glass and the closest glimpse of her side profile; absolute perfection. You let out a huff and close your eyes to steel your nerves before typing:

Hello

"Ning, what are we doing here?" You inquire the younger girl as she drags you into Givenchy's boutique, the employees eyeing you warily as the latter scrutinizes the boutique before looking at you with a familiar smile.

"We're shopping for your outfit next week," If your face showed surprise, you hid it poorly. You lean close to whisper against Ningning's ear. "In here?"

The ash-blonde shoots you a look. "Duh?"

"It's expensive!"

"It's fine-"

"What can I do for you ladies?" Ningning turns to the employee and smiles, "I made an appointment three hours ago under Giselle Uchinaga's name." The older woman hums as your friend continues, "Send us your best attires for a date night for my friend-" She gestures a hand towards you, "What's your size?"

You gawk at her as the employee looks at you expectantly, "Uhm-"

"Tell her," Ningning commands, the look on her face gave no heed to protests.

You blurt out your size, and the lady nods and turns to your friend, "We'll look for her size. In the meantime do enjoy the private suite located to the left corner of our store." She gestures an open palm to one of the five private booths. Ningning seemed pleased by the suggestion and thanked the woman before grasping your wrist and dragging you to your assigned booth.

"Yizhou-"

"If you're worried about paying back, don't worry about it." She cuts you off as she grabs one of Givenchy's brochures presented on the table. "Besides," She tears her gaze from the material, "You need to look presentable for your meeting with your sugar mommy."

You purse your lips. After interacting with your benefactor for two days, you finally agreed to meet to discuss the nature of your relationship with her. She gave you the freedom to dress in whatever clothing you want, so long as you'll style it with a white scarf. That way, she'd be able to identify you and not cause any misunderstanding. Ningning pats a spot next to her on the velvet couch, "Be comfortable, Y/N. I'm here."

"This is new territory to me, Nings." You confess while rubbing your nape. The younger girl's expression softens as you sit next to her. The ash-blonde-haired girl drapes a slender arm around your shoulders. "You don't have to pay me back, Y/N." She tells you solemnly, "I take pleasure in knowing that you'll look good in your first meeting because I was there to ensure that you'll give a good impression. Now don't worry about the price tags. Gigi is aware and is willing to extend her generosity because she knows I'm friends with you, and we've been together through thick and thin."

"Gigi?" You teased with a smile, and she winked at you. Before she can say anything else, there's a knock on the double doors.

You fix your posture as your friend tells them to come in.

On cue, three women entered the room. Two of them were delicately guiding the cloth rack inside while one pushed a tray of shoes, bags, and accessories. Your jaw slacks at the collection.

"These are our finest collections," One of them declares with a smile, "Feel free to choose which ones you like." Without another word, they exit the booth, leaving you and your friend alone. "Okay," Ningning stands from her couch and approaches the dresses and takes one that caught her eye, and presents it to you. "Try this one first."

After trying on different types of attires for an excruciating hour, you found a dress you and Ningning agree on.

"Finally!" She grins as she circles you, inspecting the dress. You stare at your reflection, unable to recognize the lady in the mirror. It's a black, leather one-shoulder draped dress; it hugs your body perfectly. "It goes well when your hair is down." She notes and looks at the shoes, "Okay. Let's try shoes."

Unlike the dresses, the shoes were easier to match with your dress: Voyou slingbacks, or just quintessential black leather heels. The same goes for the small pouch just for your phone and cash to take you to Hotel Olympia, the destination of your first meeting.

"Perfect," Ningning awes, "This will be your look for your meeting." She locks eyes with your reflection, "Do you like it?"

"Yes," You breathe, and she claps her hands in delight. "We're taking it." The latter then eyes at the accessories, "One last!" She snatches a white silk twill scarf with beveled ends and styles it around your neck.

Now you don't recognize the girl in the mirror. You eye her with awe as you run a free hand from the top of your neck; down to your chest. The reflection inclines her head to the side.

You are going to be this girl next week, and you can only hope that your attire alone can coax your potential benefactor to sponsor you.

The ride from Hanyang University to Hotel Olympia is twenty minutes.

Upon entering the hotel, the biting chill nips your skin, eliciting a shudder from you, and with your free hand, you rub your bare arm. No one seems to mind your presence.

"Should've brought a jacket," You shudder, and a voice behind your head interjects:

But as if any of your jackets can match your attire.

A snort leaves your lips as you scour the lobby of the hotel.

Hotel Olympia is the largest hotel group in all of Korea with Lotte trailing behind them. Your eyes scour the area for the front desk and lock eyes with the hotel receptionist. With a smile, you approach the employee.

"Good evening, miss." She greets, "Is there anything you need?"

"Yes," You clear your throat to steel your nerves while your feet tap against the polished marble floors. "Can you point me to Bicena Olympia?"

She fixes her posture and gestures a palm towards one of the double doors to your left. "Through that door." You follow the direction of her hand and bow at the older woman, "Thank you." Shuddering, you enter Bicena Olympia: the restaurant of Hotel Olympia: white, clean walls, cloud-like chandeliers, polished saddle-brown floorboards, and elegant yet comfortable furniture; to add life to the restaurant: it's decorated with carefully selected plants and priceless paintings. Guests from all over the country fill the walls of the restaurant with hushed chatter, laughter, the cluttering of utensils, and the clinking of champagne glasses.

"Excuse me, miss." One of the restaurant's staff approaches you. A man, no older than twenty-five, sporting a neatly pressed suit. His hair: gelled and slid back. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Oh, yes - for Miss Yoo."

The gentleman nods, and folds his hands behind his back, "Follow me." He turns and strides toward one of the vacant tables - you follow behind him as he pulls out a seat for you. "Thank you," You tell the man before he bows and returns to his podium.

According to Jimin, she'll be joining you shortly. She's caught up in a meeting. You take this opportunity to fix your appearance via your phone's camera.

From the entrance of Bicena Olympia, there emerged a woman no older than thirty-four, wearing a black long Cady dress with a plunging neckline, exposing the valley of her breast down to an inch above her navel and white heels. Her hair is styled straight and loose, and at the base of her neck lay a single gold chain necklace, emphasizing her prominent collarbones. Her right hand secures a shoulder bag, while the other, a neatly pressed, double-breasted tailored coat with red lapels.

Her hazel-colored eyes scour the restaurant, looking for a college girl with a white scarf.

Your nails tap against the tablecloth as you wait patiently for your date, ignoring the biting chill that keeps brushing against your skin. You felt a presence behind you, wondering if it's a waiter you crane your neck - only to be stopped when you feel someone draping a thick piece of cloth over your shoulders. Hands grasping your shoulders delicately.

"Oh-"

"Thank you for waiting, darling." Your skin tingles as you look up, pupils dilating, jaw-slacking as a familiar woman with hazel-colored eyes locks with yours; they light up with mirth as her plump, red lips curl to a bemused smile.

"You," You breathe, inhaling her subtle but expensive perfume. The scent is so intoxicating and warm. With notes of coffee, white flowers, and vanilla, it's the perfect mix of sexy and sweet. It suits her.

"Good evening to you too, Miss Seol." Karina chuckles deeply. Your stomach twinges blissfully at the sound as you shift beneath her intense gaze. Oh, wait - she remembers your name? Oh, lord.

"Good evening, Karina." You stammer as one of her hands plays with your scarf. She hums absentmindedly and takes a seat across from you and as she did, your eyes shamelessly follow her graceful physique.

Holy shit, she looks hot-

"This is a pleasant surprise," Karina starts as she knots her fingers together and shoots you a playful smile. Your cheeks dust pink. "I didn't expect to see Joohyun's pretty student so soon."

And you didn't expect to have your potential benefactor as your dean's half-sister, either. Shit.

"And I you, Yoo Jimin." You counter and mirror her smile. The older woman guffaws, but you didn't miss her eyes wandering from your face to your attire, and your skin tingles at her attention. "You look wonderful, Y/N." She puts her bag to the side of the table. "Are you hungry?"

Your stomach growls, and your cheeks flush as you sheepishly rub the back of your neck. "Yes - I'm hungry."

A knowing smile graces the older girl's lips as she directs her gaze to the person behind you and nods. "Dinner's on me, Y/N. Order what you like."

A waiter immediately comes to her and distributes the menu. Karina swiftly opens it, her hazel eyes scouring her options before looking up at the waiter. "I'll take a steakhouse-style ribeye." She shifts her gaze toward you, "And for the lady?"

Your lips swiftly moved the meal that Ningning suggested for you to order:

"I'll take the balsamic-and-rosemary-marinated florentine steak." An approving look dances on the older woman's face as the waiter jots it. "How about your drinks?"

Karina looks at you, beckoning you to order first.

"A cranberry mocktail," The waiter nods and turns his attention to the other woman, "And as for you, President Bae?"

Hold on a minute - president?

"A Sauvignon Blanc," A grin breaks from the waiter's lips, "Excellent choice, President Bae." He takes a step back. "I'll come back with your orders in approximately 40 minutes." Without another word, the man bows and strides away from your table.

"President?" You muse as a smirk creeps on the latter's lips. "Surprise, surprise." Karina picks up her empty wine glass and examines it. You watch her intently. "I'm sure you have questions." Her eyes suddenly dart back to you, and your skin crawls. "Ask ahead, darling."

You purse your lips, "The waiter called you president," You tread carefully, "Are you, by chance, the president of Hotel Olympia?"

"Clever girl," She purrs, and you shrink in your seat, "Yes, Y/N. I'm the president of Hotel Olympia." Damn.

She gestures for you to ask again. You clear your throat, "The name you used in your account, why use Yoo Jimin?"

Karina hums, "Yoo Jimin was the name my mother initially thought of before Irene's father changed it. They still let me keep it for casual occasions that aren't related to business."

Your lips form to an 'o' as Karina leans close, "Is that all?"

"Yes,"

"If that's the case," She puts down her empty wine glass, "What about you, Y/N?"

A playful smile tugs your lips, "What do you want to know?"

"Your information, likes, dislikes."

You followed through with her request, telling her everything she has to know, and the woman paid attention to every word you said. And it feels odd having someone like her listen to a girl of your caliber.

"-I'll sponsor you," She finalizes.

You gape at her, "Really?"

"Of course, princess." You nearly threw yourself out of the chair as your hands gripped your purse as she continued:

"You're a catch, Y/N." She admits with honesty brewing in her eyes, "And something tells me that you're someone who must be kept at high maintenance. And I'm here for it. You chose me out of all the women out there, and you chose well."

Your face warms at her praise as Karina leans close, "So, pretty girl, will you be mine to spoil in return for your time?"

And who are you to deny her?

"Yes," You breathily answer, and the older woman approves with a wolfish grin. "Perfect,"

And speaking of perfect-

"Excuse me, President Bae." The waiter returns with a tray of your ordered steaks. The older woman leans back, giving them space as they distribute your meal and your drinks. Setting it down on the table, he straightened up, but not without opening the wine and pouring it into her wine glass.

"Do enjoy your meal,"

"Wait," Karina held up her hand, halting the server before reaching into her bag. Sliding a small roll of bills out, he pulled at least five of them free to hand over. "Thank you, President Bae." Judging by the way his smile brightened, it must've been an enormous amount as the server bows deeply before leaving.

Karina snaps you back to reality by motioning to your plate. "Dig in, sweetheart, and if you want to eat anything else, speak up - it's all on me." She grins as she picks up her glass by the stem and swirls it. You watch as the liquid sloshes while the woman inhales her wine before taking light sips and releasing a sigh of contentment. Noticing your stare, she snaps her gaze to yours. You quickly look away with pink dusting your cheeks, and the older woman's lips curl to a smirk. "Say, do you have plans this weekend?"

You bring your attention back to her, recounting your plans and finding none.

"No, I don't have plans this weekend, Karina." You blink, "May I ask why?"

"You'll see," The raven-haired beauty grins, "Enjoy your dinner, Y/N."

Your jaw slacks upon stopping before the boutique of Patek Philippe. Karina stands beside you and puts her hand on the small area of your back. Despite her coat hanging on your shoulders, a mild shiver runs down your spine. "Come, Y/N." She beckons gently as she leads you inside the boutique.

You stand there while the retail clerk and your benefactor talk, unsure of what to contribute to their discussion, and finally, the sales clerk gestures a hand towards the three models displayed inside a glass casing.

"There are only three of them in the world," She proudly begins, "And it just so happens that our branch won all three of them in the auction, President Bae." Karina turns to you with a kind smile, "Pick whatever you want, sweetheart."

The sales clerk expectantly looks at you. You snap your head to the display of watches before looking back at Karina, "Is this okay with you?"

"Consider this a sign of our beneficial partnership, darling." She goes behind you. Your breath hitches as her snake past the coat and traverses to your waist, delicate yet firm as she presses her front against your back. Karina drops her voice an octave lower, sending goosebumps trailing in her wake as she husks:

"So choose,"

Fuck, you bite your lower lip, trying to focus while the older woman's hands rest on your hips, gently squeezing them.

"That one," You stammer as you point to the two-toned watch. The older woman smirks from behind as she moves to the side, leaving your back cold and aching for her warmth. "Excellent choice, miss." The sales clerk grins before shifting her gaze to your benefactor. "I'll just prepare some paperwork, and then she can wear it."

It didn't take long for the transaction to be processed. By the time the three of you reached the counter, Karina pulled out her wallet. You watch, as her well-manicured hand gracefully takes out a JP Morgan Reserve credit card made of laser-etched palladium and gold and hands it to the register. Seconds later, Karina's sitting while the retail clerk assists you with the watch.

"There you go," The clerk beams while you study the accessory.

Patek Philippe reinterprets the design of its most complicated wristwatch by offering it for the first time in a "two-tone" version combining white gold and rose gold, along with brown opaline dials. The watch is accompanied by white gold cufflinks featuring a brown opaline center adorned with a hand-guilloched hobnail pattern and a rose gold Calatrava cross.

It's beautiful, elegant, and practical.

"What do you think, Y/N?" You turn to the latter and smile warmly at her with gratitude swimming in your eyes. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Karina."

The wealthy woman returns your smile and stands up. She holds out her arm for you, beckoning for you to intertwine your hand on her arm, and you happily indulge her as she leads you to the exit with the clerk trailing behind and bowing as you two leave the store. You examine the watch again with a small smile dancing on your lips.

"Beautiful," Karina praises, and you tear your eyes from your watch and lock eyes with the hazel-eyed beauty. "Yeah, it is beautiful."

"I mean you," She grins, and your cheeks warmed. "But yes, I agree the watch is beautiful."

Bemused, you asked her: "Are you this flirty with someone you just met?"

The older woman shakes her head sideways, "No, pretty girl." You freeze as she reaches to brush a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "I meant what I said."

Eyes wide like a dear caught in headlights, your face flushes, and you clear your throat as you step back. Karina smirks, amused by your reaction, before looking at her wristwatch.

"Oh, my," She returns her gaze to you. "Didn't you say that the university dorm closes at 10 PM?"

"Yes," Your stomach drops as you instinctively look at the time.

9:35 PM

"Shit," You mutter under your breath.

"I'll drive you there," She chimes as she reaches for her bag. "I'll call my secretary."

Before you can say anything, she already has her secretary on the line.

"Yes, we'll drive her back to Hanyang University." Karina turns to you, "It isn't safe for her to return there alone. Yes, we'll meet by the entrance of the hotel, have the car ready." With that, she ends the call and turns to you, and raises her arm, as if to escort you. "Come, Y/N. Our ride awaits."

Elated, you intertwine your arm with hers as she leads you to the entrance of the Hotel Olympia's building, where a sleek black Rolls-Royce car is waiting with a short-haired brunette no older than twenty-seven leaning against the passenger door.

"Good evening, Miss Bae." The secretary turns her head to you and regards you with a bow. "Miss Seol."

Karina opens the passenger door for you. "Let's go, darling."

Twenty-three minutes later, Karina's car parked near the entrance of the university dorm.

"Thanks again, Karina." You bashfully tell her as you take the coat off your shoulders and hand it back to her. The older woman takes it with a smile while her secretary focuses her eyes in front. And just before you open the door, your eyes widen as your body numbs as you turn to her, Karina tilts her head, her gorgeous face contorts with curiosity. "What is it, darling? Did you forget something?"

"No," You clear your throat, "No. I forgot to ask this earlier, but, what about your sister?"

She quirks a brow, bemused. "What about her, sweetheart?"

"What if she finds out?"

The older woman exhales softly and scooches next to you as she puts her hand behind your back. A mild shiver couldn’t help but run down your spine, thanks to her fingertips gliding along your exposed skin. You almost forgot that your dress was semi-backless.

"I'll still sponsor you, darling." Her lips curl upward, "Our arrangement doesn't concern her. We're consenting adults aren't we?"

You nod in agreement and she pats your back gently, "Good. Oh, and before I forget, send me your bank account and other apps you use for monetary transactions in the morning, yeah?"

"I will," A grin escapes your lips as she retracts her hand, and you open the passenger door, but before closing it, Karina calls out to you.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

"Yes?" You breathe as she leans close enough for you to see her lashes, "Have a nice evening. I had fun."

"You too," You lean away, "I had fun too." When you finally close the door, you turn away from the vehicle and stride toward your dorm with a smile that is raised on its own on your lips.

You curse as your phone pings with notifications of Karina sending you $50,000.

"Woah," Ningning grins as she leans away with you as more students file through the lecture hall. "Told you it worked like a charm!" You mirror her grin as she playfully swats your arm and drops her voice to a whisper. "So, who is she?"

You drop your head, "The Hotel Magnate of Hotel Olympia."

The latter's jaw slacked, "Karina?" She blinks, "As in Karina Bae? The half-sister of our dean?"

"Hush!"

She gasps, "Holy shit, Y/N. What if her sister finds out?"

You rest the side of your face against your palm while the other hand toys with your pen. "She said she'll still sponsor me," A small smile curves your lips as you look at Ningning as you repeat Karina's words from last night:

"Our arrangement doesn't concern her. We're consenting adults, aren't we?"

The latter hums as she takes out her MacBook, "So are you guys exclusive or?" Your brows furrowed. Come to think of it...you look down at your watch. "I don't know. I didn't specify." The ash-blonde-haired girl hums, "It's safe to assume that you are unless you clarify it." She boots up her device and frowns as your peer's chatter amplifies.

"Professor Jung is late."

Your brows raise as you turn to the vacant teacher's table, "That's a first."

Ningning shrugs, "Doesn't matter. We have free time - wanna grab a coffee-"

"Settle down students!" An authoritative voice booms inside the lecture hall, immediately silencing them. Your body bristles as the dean's slender figure enters the classroom sporting a matching black pleat short jacket and slit skirt that reaches below her knees and black heels.

"Holy shit," Ningning snickers as she turns to look at you while the dean puts her clicker atop the desk. "Since Professor Jung is dealing with a personal emergency, I will teach in his stead." She raises her head, and your eyes lock with hers for a brief moment.

Your posture stiffens as she turns her body towards you, "Miss Seol, tell me, what was your last discussion with Mr. Jung?"

Your friend nudges her elbow against yours. You shoot her a look before standing up while she hides her smile as you inform Irene of your last discussion with the professor.

"Very well," She turns and clicks on the projector, "Thank you, Miss Seol. Be seated."

An inaudible sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sit down. Your friend leans close to you with a shit-eating grin as she whispers:

"Chill, Y/N, you look like a sinner sweating inside a church."

You nudge her side and hiss quietly at her: "Shut up." she just stuck her tongue out to you and you roll your eyes at her in response as the dean's voice fills the lecture hall, continuing Professor Jung's lesson.

Thirty minutes in, and your phone vibrates inside your pocket. You sneakily take a peek to see who it was:

Karina

And she was asking if you want to have lunch with her if you're not busy.

You're not

You fought the urge to smile as you reply with yes.

She'll pick you up ten minutes after your class with the dean.

"Gigi invited me to have lunch with her," Ningning says as she gathers her things. "That means you have to find a replacement for me as your lunch buddy."

"It's fine," You tell her as you pack your things and sling them over your new bag. "Karina invited me to have lunch with her too."

"Nice," The latter grins. "So, see you after lunch?"

"See you after lunch."

"Oh," She snaps her head back to you. "Don't forget to ask if your arrangement is exclusive or not!"

A chuckle rumbles in your chest, "I will." And you make your separate ways.

"Your sister will see you," You mused as you approach the older woman who was leaning against her Bentley.

Karina pushed her Hugo sunglasses to her hair, giving her luscious locks a slid-back look. The raven-haired woman was wearing a black brushed ribbed-knit top with matching tailored sailor pants and boots. The fit complimented her lithe body. On the base of her neck is a golden chain necklace.

The older woman grins as you stand a few feet away from her. "You make it sound like I'm your paramour."

A small smile dances on your lips, "You just got off from work?"

"It's a slow day today at the office," Her hazel-colored eyes run down your body, "And I see that you got yourself a new look."

You look down at your attire: white, monogram Jacquard cropped jeans, a plain white shirt, and ankle boots, all from Loius Vui, just like the attire of Karina.

"Needed a fresh look," You tell her as you check out your attire. "You like it?"

"It suits you," She smiled before opening the passenger door for you. "Shall we get lunch?"

"Well, isn't this a surprise," Karina mused while you and Ningning gaped at each other with her arm draped around who you presume is her benefactor: Giselle who's wearing a two-piece red suit and black heels.

"Karina," Giselle regards before looking at you and smiling, "Y/N."

Your benefactor turns to you, surprised. "You know each other?"

"We're friends," Ningning interjects, "I'm roommates with Y/N. Giselle knows her through me."

"I see,"

"Be seeing you two," The conglomerate looks at her sugar baby, "Let's go to our table." Before separating, Ningning sends you a wave while Karina leads you to your designated table with her hand pressed against the small area of your back.

"Here you go, darling." She pulls out a seat for you before sitting across from you. "Order what you like. It's on me." She winks before a waiter comes and distributes the menu.

"So," You clear your throat as soon as you say your orders to the waiter. Karina inclines her head to the side, waiting for you to continue. "Are we exclusive?"

The raven-haired woman arched a brow, and her expression hardens. "Do you plan on cheating on me if I say no?"

"What," You sputter as your arms frantically wave as if saying no. "No, I mean - I was just clarifying-"

"Yes," Karina's features soften with mirth, "Yes, darling. We're exclusive, so relax."

"Oh," Your cheeks flush.

"Why? Are you seeing someone?"

"No," You squeak. Your face burns as you clear your throat and straighten your posture as you repeat your answer: "No."

"Very well," She toys with her utensils, and a wolfish smirk plays on her plump lips. "Has anyone told you that you look cute when you're flustered?"

Your face flushes, "No,"

"Then I'm the first," After some time, she drove you back to Hanyang University fifteen minutes before your next class begins.

"Thanks for the lunch," You tell the older woman as she brings you to the other entrance of the University. The latter hums, "My pleasure," Karina then clicks her tongue, "And Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"A little bird told me that you guys have a year-end party next week," Karina begins, "And that you'll have a three-day vacation after that due to the preparations for your university week, correct?"

"Yes," You confirm as you shift your weight on your other foot. "Why's that?"

The hazel-eyed beauty tilts her head sideways, "I was wondering if you'd like to spend those days with me in Japan. I have a business convention in one of my hotels in Tokyo." She tells you with her arms folded behind her back.

A vacation with a drop-dead gorgeous woman? How could you say no to her when she's asking you so nicely?

"I'd love to," You beam at her, and her features glow.

"Wonderful. You have plenty of time to prepare until then..." She trails off as she approaches you and takes your hand.

You incline your head to the side, watching her with intent before your eyes widen, your cheeks dust pink, and your skin tingles as she presses her lips against the knuckles of your fingers.

"Be seeing you," Karina whispers as she lets go. But before you enter the main building, your sugar mommy calls out your name.

"Yes?"

"Call me 'Jimin' next time we meet," She graces you with an award-winning smile. "'Karina' sounds cold coming from you, darling. So call me Jimin instead."

"Okay then, Jimin."

With that, you enter the main building.

"Woah," Ningning snorts, "She invited you to a business convention with her in Tokyo?"

You hum as you browse through a fine selection of clothing.

"In Tokyo?" Your friend repeats, and you give her a look, "Yeah? What about it?"

"Oh, nothing," She leans against the pillar and smirks, "It's just that you two seem to hit it off, I guess." You spare a glance at her, "Why? Did Aeri invite you to a vacation with her?"

"Yep,"

A snort leaves your nostrils, "Then that makes two of us."

"Yeah," She concedes with a sigh as she begins to look for her new clothes. "You're right. What was the theme of our year-end party again?"

"Las Vegas-esque," You click your tongue, "I don't know, as long as we dress like the people attending casinos, we're fine."

"So, we're supposed to dress like sluts, then?"

You and Ningning snap your heads at each other before letting out a laugh. "No!" You rebutted, "We're supposed to dress like new money or something."

"Oh," She bobs her head, "Right."

"If you want to look like someone who goes to a casino," A steely, feminine voice interjects. You and Ningning straighten your backs as you slowly turn around to face Irene Bae, the dean of your college department.

"I suggest you wear semi-formal attire." She turns her gaze to your friend. "And not dress inappropriately, Miss Ning Yizhou."

"Good afternoon, Miss Bae." You and your friend say in unison as you bow to her. "At ease, ladies."

"Sorry about that, Miss Bae." The ash-blonde hair sheepishly remarks before the dean softens her sharp features with a small smile. "I see that you've already chosen your attire, Ningning." She moves her head in your direction, causing you to lock eyes with obsidian-hued crevices. Your back feels as if someone brushed a cold hand against your skin.

"What about you, Miss Seol?"

"Oh," You sputter as you feel small beneath her gaze. "I haven't picked one yet, Miss Bae."

The older woman hums, "If I may," She strides forward. Both you and Ningning instinctively make way for the older woman as she picks an outfit for you: A oversized, double-breasted jacket in vinyl leather and a gold belt. But despite that, you focus on her proximity and how her subtle but expensive perfume fills your nostrils. Intoxicating.

"Try these," She coaxes, "But this is only my suggestion, Miss Seol."

You tentatively take it from the latter, "Thank you, Miss Bae."

"A pleasure," She looks at your watch. You fight the urge to hide it as an approving smile graces her lips.

"Nice watch, Y/N. No wonder why there's only two of the same model left." She raises her arm and pulls back her sleeve to show you the black variation of the watch. "I have the second-to-the-last model." Irene grins, the sight surprising you. "I suppose that you and I share the same pleasures in life."

"You and me, both." You agree with a steady smile. The older woman regards you and your friend. "I best be going now. You ladies enjoy."

"Goodbye, Miss Bae." Ningning bows, and you follow her example. Once she's out of earshot, the latter turns to you with her lips curling upward t a smirk. "So, you're going to try her suggestion?"

You raise the pair before looking back at her. "I think I will. I mean, have you seen the way she dresses?" Your friend agrees, "Alright, try it, and I'll give you my feedback."

"Thanks, Ning."

"Holy shit - Y/N, is that you?" You snap your head as Yeji's voice fills your ears despite the EDM music blasting over the speakers.

"Yeji!" You return her greeting as she approaches you and Ningning. The older girl wore a white tweed suit and heels. "Geez, girl." The chestnut-haired girl scours you from head to toe, "You look amazing!"

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" You counter, and she playfully hits your shoulder, "Yeah - but seriously, you look good."

"Thanks," You wink at her before she pats your shoulder, "I see Lia at the other end of the room. If you wanna drink and hang with us, our table is open."

"Duly noted," You tell her before she nods her head and then leaves to join her group. While waiting for Ningning to arrive at the party, you mingled with your peers with a mocktail in your hand. Despite it being a year-end party, alcoholic drinks are still prohibited.

"Finally!" You exasperated upon seeing a familiar face. Ningning rolls her eyes at you as you hand her a drink. "I thought you aren't going to show up."

"And waste the outfits we bought for this party?" She scoffs, "No fucking way. You look good, by the way. Miss Bae has good taste."

"I agree," You nudge her by the arm. "Yeji told me I looked amazing earlier, too." The latter cranes her neck, "What is it?" She snaps her attention back to you, "Oh, nothing." Then, Ningning smirks. "It's just that you've gained some attention."

"The good kind, I hope?" You follow her example; indeed, Ningning's right. You've attracted stares from your peers.

"Can't blame them though," She shrugs, "You've been wearing pants and trousers for the whole semester. The sight's refreshing."

A scoff leaves your lips, "I feel like I'm giving the 'ugly duckling' effect."

"So about your arrangement with Karina," A hum reverberates from your chest, "Did you clarify?"

"Jimin and I are exclusive," You sip your drink, and the beverage smoothly runs down your throat; you sigh. "Speaking of, are you and Aeri exclusive?"

"Yep," She emphasizes the 'P', "Gigi made it clear the moment we first met."

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?"

Ningning stands close to you. Her expression sharpens as she whispers: "Oh no, a man is approaching."

"Who?"

"Beats me," She whispers back. "I ain't leaving you."

"Thanks,"

"Excuse me?"

"Hello," You greet him with a clipped tone as a stranger approaches you. The first thing that strikes you is how strong his perfume smelled. Oh, god.

"You're Y/N, right? From Professor Jung's class?"

"Yes?"

He grins and takes a step close. You instinctively step back while Ningning observes him with her purse ready. "I was wondering if you girl want to join our table?"

Ha! No, thank you. But your friend spoke on your behalf.

"No thanks," She grabs your arm, "We're okay right where we are."

"It'll be fun," He tries, and you hide your shudder as your skin prickles under his gaze. Your posture bristles as you drape your arm around Ningning's waist. "No, thank you."

He is about to say something when another voice chimes in from behind. Cold, steely, and cutting. But vaguely familiar.

"Are we interrupting something?"

On cue, all three heads snap to no other than the Bae siblings. But your focus is on Karina, whose expression's harsh, and her gaze: piercing, and dare you to say hostile?

"Good evening, Miss Bae," All three bow before the two powerful women, "I'll get going now," The guy sheepishly excuses himself, and your benefactor's face softens, but that was cut short when her haze-colored eyes traverse on your attire - did her eyes just darken?

"Miss Bae, what brings you to the year-end party?"

"Karina and I just finished discussing matters regarding University Week. She'll help sponsor the program."

"Oh," Karina's lip curled upward while she ran her eyes up and down your body, sending goosebumps in her wake. "That's right. And my, Y/N. You look ravishing."

"Thanks," You breathe to calm your nerves as you fought to say her name. Did Irene arch a brow between you and Karina? Or was it just the strobing effect of the lights in the venue? You mentally shake your head sideways as you focus on another fact that the sisters look good - Karina looks good - ravishingly beautiful. The woman wore a soft white double lapel slashed cropped jacket finished with a single button fastening matching a soft white asymmetric mini skirt and platform thigh-high black boots. And to finish off the look, she styled her hair damp and slid it back with Bulgari rings adorning her well-manicured hands.

"I chose that attire for her," Irene chimes and Karina snaps her attention to her older sister before raising a brow at you. You chose to ignore it.

"I see," Karina notes absentmindedly, "No wonder I spot a change in style," she adds with a tone you can't decipher.

"Hey, Y/N!" Yeji's voice interjects before she gets cut off by another voice:

"Oh - they're with the dean-"

"It's fine," Irene raises an open palm, "We'll be on our way."

Oh...

Karina sends you a coy smile before leaving with her older sister, leaving your eyes to trail after her as they disappear from view.

"Damn," You whisper while Ningning snickers, "Easy girl, we can't have the floor all slippery with you drooling after her."

"Oh, shut up." You hiss at her while Yeji and Lia invite you and Ningning to their table.

"Excuse me, ladies," You announce, "But I need to go to the comfort room."

"Want me to go with you?"

You held up a hand, "No thanks, I can manage."

Yeji nods in understanding while Ningning chatters with Yuna.

The door creaks open as you enter the clean CR to check on your appearance. Not long after, another woman enters the CR, but you didn't bother to raise your head to see until you feel two slender arms snake around your waist, pressing your back against her strong front as her voice fills the room:

"I didn't know that you and my sister saw each other." You hastily turn away from the sink as Jimin's slender figure stands in front of you, your back pressed against the marble sink.

"Easy, darling." She purrs, "It's me,"

"Jimin," Your breath hitches as the woman before you smirk in delight.

"I said it once, and I'll say it again," She leans dangerously close to your face. You hold your breath as her perfume fills your nose, "You look ravishing, darling. Exquisite too, if I may," Your hands grip her arms as she continues:

"But the next time you go shopping, call me." Her cold breath fans against the skin of your face. "I'll make time for you."

Shit, she's too close - you can't think!

You instinctively lean away with your heart ramming harshly against your ribcage, "I will," You fought the urge to slap yourself for the way your voice sounded. "You look beautiful, Jimin. Nice touch on the hair."

A grin escapes her lips, "I knew that you were attending. I had to dress to impress you, baby."

"And I am," You tell her breathlessly as she pins you gently against the sink as she moves her head to the side of your face, her breath fans against the outer lobe of your ear, eliciting a shudder from you.

"But I don't think I can leave you alone tonight, sweetheart. Especially when they have their eyes on you." She moves her head to your neck, her lips brush against your skin, and you bite your lip to prevent an embarrassing sound from coming out.

"Shall I do something about it?" Your hoarsely suggested, and the older woman chuckles. "You can indulge me, pretty girl."

A gasp leaves your lips as she pecks the side of your neck. Your skin thrums at the action as your hands shamelessly traverse to her back, flushing her against you, eliciting a dark chuckle from the woman's lips as her other hand goes up to your neck, then at the back of your skull where she takes a handful of your hair and gently pulls it back, your look up at her, eyes dark and glazed.

"I know I have such an effect on you, darling." She rasps, her voice an octave lower. "I'll be blunt, baby. I want you the moment I saw you in Bicena Olympia."

Your lungs betray you as the latter presses her hips against yours. "Will you grant me this?"

Not trusting your words, you give the simplest form of reply by pecking the corner of her lips. Jimin returns it by locking her plump lips against yours, swallowing your cries of delight before pulling away, her hazel-colored eyes dark, almost abysmal as her sister's.

"I'm taking you home," She gasps, and you don't have a problem with it.

Of course, the Hotel Magnate would be staying at the penthouse of her hotel. And that same hotel magnate has her legs spread with you in between. Karina's skirt and boots are haphazardly discarded somewhere on the floor, while your double-breasted blazer jacket is loose.

Her hair was strewn beautifully all over her pillows a blissful moan leaves the older woman's lips as you lap her juices. Her hand grips your hair, eliciting a hum from you as she rocks her hips against your tongue. Your hands fist the sheets as you flatten your tongue to let her do as she wishes and groan when your nose bumps against her clit.

"Fuck, keep going, baby." She purrs, "You do me so well - fuck!" She drops her head against her soft pillows; a groan leaves your lips as her walls squeeze your tongue and your hips rut against the mattress, hoping for some friction, but Karina tugs on your hair as a warning. You obey your mistress as your lips traverse from her core to her clit and bite it. The hazel-eyed goddess sighs in satisfaction.

She's close, by the telltale signs of her fluttering walls, and a surge of wetness touches your tongue, and you didn't hesitate to lap her essence until her thighs shake from overstimulation - that's when you pull away and rest your cheek against your thigh while you squirm as your arousal dampens your underwear - and it's starting to become uncomfortable.

"Good girl," She praised and caressed the top of your head. "I will reward you." Karina presses a kiss against your forehead.

"Stay here," She whispers, "I'll get something, okay?"

"Yes," You pant as the latter slips away gracefully, and while she's away for a moment, you inhale her scent in the sheets and sigh blissfully. She smells divine.

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Karina standing - naked, allowing you to see her lithe physique. Her body is carved with perfection. Your eyes travel lower and - your jaw slacks. Trapped to her hips was a strap.

A double-ended strap.

Karina's eyes ate you up predatorily as she stalks towards you, but your eyes were focused on the long, thick strap between her legs. You watch, slacked-jawed as she sits on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her hazel-colored eyes glaze with lust as she rakes her eyes at your figure.

"Strip," She commands, and you didn't need to be told twice as you quickly, haphazardly discard your clothes, leaving them to flood her marble floors. "Good girl," She purrs as her slender hand pats her thigh. "Now come to me."

You oblige by crawling to her. Your cunt flutters due to exposure as you crawl towards your mistress with hooded eyes, Karina watches you intently as you straddle her strong thighs, hands on her shoulders while the pads of her fingers dance around your hips while her lips press butterfly kisses around the pillar of your neck before going behind your ear:

"Ride me,"

Say less

With a puff of your breath, Karina helps you align your sopping cunt to her faux cock. The latter grunts as you slowly sink into her thick cock. You bounce up and down, pussy rubbing against hers as you dig your nails against Karina's shoulders, hearing the older woman hiss, you loosened your grip, muttering: "Sorry-"

She cuts you off by flushing you against her and thrusting her hips, faces contorting with pleasure, and her lips curl to a wolfish smirk when your lips let out streams of moans.

"It's okay, baby - oh fuck. Keep doing it. Ride me, harder."

"Fuck," You mewl as your hips meet her thrusts, your jaw drops into an 'O' shape as your release a particular squeal that has Karina groaning and caresses your ass before she spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth as you hide your head in the crook of her neck while her lips attack your neck by sucking. Walls clenching and throbbing around her, you were so slick and wet that your juices dripped down on her thighs.

"Yeah, just like that." Karina gasps, letting out a guttural moan as the other side of the strap digs against her clit. Karina thrusts her hips upward in motion with yours, fucking you hard and deep that your vision grew irregular as a strange pressure grows on your stomach, your insides pulsing and tingling - you're close.

"Karina," You mewl, and you press yourself harder against her, your position coming off as intimately close. "I'm close - please-"

"Keep going," She growls, pounding into you harder to the point that her thrusts are shallow. Both bodies are covered in a thick sheen of sweat as beads of exertion form on both your foreheads. The smell of perfume and sex permeates in the air accompanied by sinful noises coming from you and the older woman.

The pressure grows strong inside of you, losing all inhibition as you kiss the older woman - searingly, all-consuming as she swallows your moans. Her arms snake around you, pulling you impossibly closer to her hot body as you come undone with a gnawing urge to say something - call out the title the woman deserves.

But you refuse at the embarrassing possibility, so instead, you pull away and bite her shoulder, earning you a moan from the older woman as she cums. Both ends of the strap are covered with your juices as her hips stutter.

Fire consumes your body as you lift your head from her shoulder and gently kiss the mark you left on the woman before resting your head on the crook of her neck, both chests heaving harshly for breath while your mistress brushes a hand against your back.

You lean away from her, and you're greeted with an equally spent Karina whose lips curl to a satisfied smirk. "Do you want me to clean you up?"

You shook your head sideways, not wanting to leave her arms.

"Very well," She pecks your lips as she grabs the duvet with her other hand to cover your lower parts without pulling out of you. She adjusted the both of you while her faux cock stays inside you, coaxing a soft moan out of you as she whispers in your ear:

"Sleep, pretty girl. We have a flight to catch tomorrow."

"I'll take a shower," You said.

"And I'll join you," Karina said, "It'll be faster." She said.

Well...

The bathroom echoes with your shared moans as the older woman plows into you with utter control as she presses you firmly against the marble wall.

You don't know how long you two were at it. All you could do was claw Karina's back in pure bliss as water runs down your bodies.

"Shit," Karina mewls, "Fuck, baby. You're so tight!" She emphasizes by roughly pounding into you as the other end of the dildo rubs against her walls deliciously, causing you to throw your head back against the wall.

Despite the running water, it doesn't conceal the sounds of obscene activity you and the older woman are doing.

You cry out and wrap your arms around her shoulders as she hits the spot that makes you see stars. You dig your heels against her ass, forcing her to thrust deeper into you. Her faux cock blissfully rubs against your walls as she fucks you into the wall.

"Are you close?" She moans when you kiss her Adam's apple before forcing your head against the wall with her other hand. "Answer me, pretty girl."

"Yes," You whine and clench your walls for good measure.

Karina's hips stutter before she pistons her hips at a harsh pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head with profanities befalling from your lips.

The older woman watches you with carnal delight as you writhe under her ministrations.

You look so pliant, so exquisite - hers.

The hazel-eyed beauty bristles with feverish desire as she combs her damp hair with her free hand, giving her a messy, slid-back look that makes her devastatingly attractive before she puts her hand back on your hips, keeping you still as she bullies your cunt with her cock.

"Close," You cry out, "Oh - so close-" There's that urge again, and you refuse it by kissing the older woman who returns it with equal energy as you cum so hard it's blinding.

Your entire body goes slack, and Karina holds you up with her hands caressing your hips slowly.

"You okay?" She bemused before pecking your bare shoulder.

"I don't think I can walk," You mumble as you close your eyes. Karina hums and rests her head against your hammering chest. A whimper leaves your lips as Karina shifts her hips with the strap still lodged inside you. Karina coos in your ear encouragingly, rubbing your hips to ease you, and pulls the strap out with a wet squelch.

"Fuck," You moan as the strap slips out of you. Your beaten walls ring with sensitivity, and you can't tell if it's better or worse now that Karina pulled out.

"Did I do too much?" She whispers as she holds you securely. Her touch is gentle and soothing as she caresses your back and waist.

"Maybe?" You cheekily reply, "I was too busy enjoying it to notice."

This elicits a grin from the older woman as she pecks your lips. "I'll carry you back into the room. We have a flight to catch at 6 PM."

"Thanks," You sigh as you wrap your arms around the latter and flush against her warm body as she brings you to her room.

The trip to Tokyo was smooth sailing.

The older woman always had her arm on the small area of your back whenever you go out together, even during her meetings with clients and investors. There's never a dull moment with your sugar mommy. You exit the stores carrying bags of Gucci, YSL, and Loius Vui. Designer brands? You name, you have it!

These shopping sprees paired with dinners at the finest restaurants in the city had you ready to give Karina what she wanted: you.

Not that you minded. Especially when Karina gives you mind-blowing orgasms; you'd let her do anything to you, even slip a vibrator inside you without any chances of coming undone.

You bite your lower lip to suppress a whine as the device edges you once again. Your hands grip the utensils while Karina talks with one of her loyal clients with a dangerous gleam dancing in her eyes. Your walls clench around the vibrator, your arousal dampening your underwear. You can only hope that it won't stain your dress. Your thighs quiver whenever you move as the vibrator strikes deeper, forcing you to bite into your pasta to prevent an embarrassing moan from leaving your lips.

Hot and bothered, you shakily reach for a glass of water as Karina turns to look at you, her carnal delight hiding behind the mask of faux curiosity.

"How about you, darling? Do you like the food Chef Nakamoto made?"

"Yes," You say through gritted teeth as Karina adjusts the dial to 'high'.

"Well," Sakura, the client, chimes with a warm smile. "I enjoyed the dinner. I'll have my secretary have the documents ready by tomorrow. Thank you, Miss Bae."

Karina stands up, and you follow her example as you three bow together and head back to her penthouse suite.

The balcony allows you to have a good view of Tokyo's city lights. Aside from the pool, there's also a canopy bed good for a couple a few feet from the pool.

You hold on to one of the railings as Karina leads you by the pool while the device vibrates inside you. You grip her hand, garnering the attention of the former as you look at her with pleading eyes.

"Can I cum, please, Karina?" You begged, "I can't hold it any longer."

God, begging is so unbecoming.

But the older woman replies with a vile smirk as she raises your hand to her lips. "It entices you, doesn't it?" She sneers, "Being denied over and over again in public."

"Karina-"

"Easy, princess." She chuckles as you clench your thighs together. "Why don't you join me in the pool tonight, hm? The moon looks nice."

You swallow hard and nod, not trusting your words as the woman pecks your lips. "Your swimsuit is in the living room, and meet me in the pool once you're dressed."

"Okay," you whisper against her lips before she walks past you.

With shaky legs, you enter the living room and fetch the swimsuit that lay atop the cushioned settee, and changed in one of Karina's bathrooms with the vibrator still inside you.

Upon reaching the pool, Karina's already in the pool with her hand securing the stem of her wine glass. The woman is wearing a goddamn revealing swimwear, backless and sexy, giving you a good view of her amazing back view.

"There you are," She turns around with a smirk. "I thought you took care of your inconvenience in the living room."

You shake your head sideways while the low hum of the vibrator squelches inside of you. "I could never do that when you can do it better."

She guffaws and pats the ledge of the pool. "Sit. You've been a good girl."

You oblige and sit on the ledge of the pool as Karina makes her way to you. The pool sloshes at her movements as she stops before your closed thighs. She places her drink on the ledge before using both hands to pry your thighs apart. You breathe in her scent as she comes closer, glazed hazel eyes watching your faces as one of her fingers moves the rim of your swimwear and underwear, eliciting a soft mewl from you as the pads of her digits play with your slick folds.

"Look at that," She bemused, "You're so wet."

And she pulls out the vibrator, eliciting a moan from you as she turns the device off and puts it on the ledger. The older woman kisses the inner area of your thigh before pulling away to sit on the shallow side of the pool.

"Join me," She coaxes, and you didn't need to be told twice as you drop to the pool, the cold, yet oddly satisfying water soothes you as you swim towards the older woman who has her arms resting on the ledges. She uses one hand to beckon you closer and sit on her lap.

Your slick rubs against her skin and mixes with the water while you keep your hands to your sides, unsure of the outcome if you allow yourself to touch her.

Karina inclines her head as she snakes both arms around your waist, pressing you firmly against her lean body. "It's okay," She whispers and assaults your neck with butterfly kisses. "You can touch me, baby."

A sigh escapes your lips as you play with the ends of her hair while ignoring the throbbing in your core.

Karina's hand caresses your back, "You've been a good girl, aren't you?" She inhales your scent and sighs. You've been wearing her signature scent for the entirety of the vacation, marking you as hers.

She pulls you for a soft, sensual kiss. Her lips are plump and warm as it molds and moves against yours. Your hands cling to her nape. Her hands move freely against your straddled figure while your thighs trap her below you. A deep rumble echoes from her chest as your bodies begin to heat up with desire.

You kiss her until your lungs burned.

And when you feel your lungs constricting, you pull away with batted breath.

"Keep up with me, darling." She teased, "I'm going to reward us both."

Before you can ask, her hand goes down to your pelvis and moves the fabric aside, and thrusts three fingers into you.

You arch against her, moaning in sinful delight for receiving what she had been denying you for hours.

"Fuck!" You mewl as her other hand grabs the back of your hair and pulls it back, leaving your neck open and vulnerable for her as she sucks on every exposed expanse of your skin until it changes to a hue of light pink that'll turn to blue, green and wine-like stains the next morning.

"So sensitive," She teases, and you clench your walls in retaliation earning a soft gasp from her as more of your slick exits your folds.

"So drenched," She adds as she deepens her digits, earning her another moan from you as you allow your head to fall on her broad shoulder as she fucks her fingers into you. Your nails dig into her skin as she increases her pace, and the pool sloshes with your ministrations as you roll your hips against her hand.

It didn't take long for her to rub a spongey area of your walls - your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you come undone unannounced.

"That's a good girl," Karina praises as she helps you ride your high and gently nips your neck. "I hope you're not too spent yet, darling." She rasps as she licks your jaw, making you whine before pulling away and kissing you gently.

"Come," Karina helps you get up and situates you on the ledge as she grabs a towel stationed near you and wipes your skin dry before reaching your legs. She parts them, eliciting a mewl from you as she lightly dabs the mess you left in between your legs.

"Easy, baby." The Hazel-eyed goddess grins, "We're not done yet." Teasingly, she cups your cunt, making your thighs slightly jump at her soaked hand and shooting you a wink when you whined.

Karina's touches are soft, teasing, and sensual.

And it's driving you crazy as she helps you slip out of the pool and to the canopy bed.

She laid you gently against the sheets while she took off her swimsuit and disappeared inside. Minutes later, she comes out with a strap harnessed in between her legs, gesturing for your clothes to be removed.

You clumsily take the swimwear off your skin, leaving it on the floor as the woman joins you.

Karina perches her knee on top of the soft mattress and crawls toward you like a lioness cornering her prey. The sinews of her muscle showed as she looms above you, her toned arms cage your sides, and her legs caged yous. Unabashed, you look at her lips before raising your head to capture them. You release yourself from the towel and latch onto her back. The black-haired woman moans and presses you against the mattress as she kisses you with an all-consuming passion. Karina's hands glide to your wrist and pin them to the sides of your head as she grinds her faux cock against your seeping cunt.

Your sugar mommy pulls away and attacks the expanse of your neck with kisses that morph into generous bites. You close your eyes and allow your head to fall on the soft pillows.

Your hips jut against hers - the older woman bites your collar in return as her arousal drips down her thighs.

"On your stomach," She commands. You obey.

"Hips up," Karina growls. You obeyed, allowing her to see your swollen cunt that was already dripping with arousal. "Good girl," She purred and slapped your folds, making you cry out as more of your essence dripped down.

The older woman uses your slick to coat her cock before looming above you, her hands trapping you on opposite sides before her right hand moves to your neck, applying pressure, causing you to gasp and jut your hips at her dildo.

Karina's other hand digs her nails against your neck, making you hiss in both pleasure and pain as she thrusts her entire length. The head easily parts your folds as she glides into you with one swift motion, impaling you entirely with her cock. The sheer girth of her shaft spreads your cunt until your walls are stretched thin around her length. You find yourself screaming in a mix of pain and erotical delight as you claw the sheets and you gasp for air, practically winded by the first thrust. Compared to her fingers, you feel full. Your walls fluttered, pulsing around her as Karina sets a brutal pace.

"Karina," You cry out as her hand leaves your neck and kisses your shoulder. Her hips hit the curvature of your ass. You can feel her abs flex and stiffen at her pace.

"Y/N," She moans, holding you down by your shoulders as she jackhammers inside you while the bulb presses into her walls. You both feel hot and dripping in sweat as she meets every roll of your hips. Your head falls against the pillows, letting the older woman have her way with you as her lips chase your neck and bite your skin, making you cry out as she spanks you.

"Mine," She growls against your ear and gently bites it. "You're mine, baby. Do you understand?"

Your cunt clamps vigorously, sweat finally dripping from your temple as lust has finally taken over you, moaning with abandon, your mixed juices now trailing down your thighs, body covered in both sweat and Karina's marks.

Her patience runs thin, and she thrusts harshly, "Answer me, pretty girl. Do you fucking understand?"

Your stomach coils, and your arms shake under her thrusts as she keeps her body close to yours.

"Yes - mommy."

Oh shit

You hope she didn't hear you.

The older woman digs her nails into your hips, pounds becoming more desperate, feral. Her hands grope any skin available for her as her need for release pushes her closer to the edge.

You aren't far behind her, either.

And she knows this, too.

The way your stomach coils and twists, toes curling, back arching, and your moans were high-pitched, sobs choked, and your mewls were breathy as she begins to thrust with abandon, you drop your head as you cry out her title, incensed by your wails, her pace inhumanly fast and-

You let out a loud moan as you felt her cock brush your g-spot, making your back arch against her front. A vile grin breaks into Karina's lips as she repeatedly aims the spot, making your arms weak and your thighs quiver with every penetrative slam. Moan after moan leaves your lips.

"Are you close?"

"Yes," You whimper with your eyes closed. A broken sob escapes your lips when her teeth dig against your nape, sending shocks of pleasure shooting right through you.

"Repeat my title, baby." She rasps.

What?

"Mommy," She clarifies, "Call me mommy when I fuck you."

So she did hear...

"Are you close?" She repeats. Another broken sob leaves your lips as you replay to her: "Yes, mommy - fuck, I'm so close."

Karina bends down to press a kiss on your marked shoulder before stilling her hips as you cum. Your walls fluttered as the older woman cums too.

She drops her head against your nape, and her warm breath fans your sensitive skin as her arm wraps gently around yours. Swallowing thickly, she pulls out.

You let out a frail moan as more of your cum leaks out of your abused cunt. The older woman delicately helps you lay on your back, finally allowing you to see her.

Karina looks beautiful in the afterglow of sex, her pristine appearance is slightly flushed, and her lips are swollen.

"Can you do one more for mommy?" She murmurs as she maps your face with light kisses.

And who are you to deny her? You cup her face and peck her plump lips. "Use me, mommy."

A smirk breaks past her pretty lips. "Hips up," She gently commands. You obey her and raise your hips, wincing at the sore feeling that shoots in your hips. Karina quickly places a pillow underneath your hips as her lips find yours, consuming you again.

Your hands circle her neck as you give in to her kiss, hands gripping themselves on your waist, pressing you hard on her bed as if to keep your scent there, and moaning softly when your tongue breaches into her mouth.

The older woman grinds her pelvis against yours, smearing your thighs with your juices as her lips latch onto your neck, biting her marks, making you roll your eyes to the back of your skull as shocks of pleasure ripple through you.

Sheer libido sticks in the air as she pushes herself inch by inch. Nails digging against the skin of her back; a breathy mewl breaks past your lips, and the sting of sensitivity ripples through you. Karina hides her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as she further pushes herself deeper, indulging in your moans.

"Mommy's got you," She coaxes, and her hips begin to move.

Gasping at the intrusion as she pounds into you with newly-found vigor, your body falls limp, allowing her to use you as she further spreads your legs apart to create more room for her to fuck herself into you, her pace bristling with need.

"Ah-fuck!" You cry out with ecstasy when she impulsively bites the center of your neck.

Your mistress growls and pulls away with a wolfish grin on her lips as she snaps her lips with need.

The dark-haired goddess suddenly slows her pace, pulling out until the bulbous head remains, before slamming right back in, and a wanton moan befalls your lips, eyes closing and mouth agape, letting out your sounds of moans of delirium, and Karina is incensed by this and angles her hips in a particular fashion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, whimpering "Mommy" on the lobe of her ear, driving her insane and increases the power of her thrusts, rutting into you whilst you litter her neck with kisses, all the while leaving red vertical lines on her strong back.

You could practically hear the bed mimicking your trembling legs beneath the older woman as your cunt takes her. The squelching sounds add to the symphony between the two of you.

The older woman growls and presses you harder, fucking you to her bed, hips snapping back and forth, teeth gritted, beads of sweat rolling down her temple, strands of hair falling to the side of her perfectly sculpted face.

You pull her close to you, legs trembling as they wrap around her waist, attempting to pull her closer and giving Karina the advantage of pushing her cock deeper inside your weeping walls, hitting your bundle of nerves.

"That's it, baby." The hazel-eyed beauty grunts with effort, her pace merciless, forcing you upward so that she has to wrap her arms around you to keep you in place.

"You're taking mommy so well."

Tenderly, she cups your jaw and massages your cheek, startling you as her hips are in contrast to her hand.

"You belong to me now, love." She whimpers as you jut your hips. "Say it, that you belong to me."

"I belong to you, mommy." You whimpered, causing the woman above you to close her eyes, heart fluttering upon hearing the sound of her title falling perfectly from your lips. "I-I'm close, please, please don't stop."

"I won't," She prompts softly, hitting deeper, the sensation rippling within you overwhelms your body. You're pushed over the edge with a sob as your body racks with pleasure; another orgasm crashes through you like a truck as you fall limply, squirting around her cock.

But she keeps fucking into you.

"Mommy," You mewl as you try to pry her off. "Too much,"

"One more," She pants, "Give me one more, love. Can you do that - fuck - for me?"

You can't, your legs feel like lead, your body is already covered with sweat and marks, and your lower region felt like it was about to split in half. But in determination to please your mistress, you nod, with tears welling in your eyes before she moves her hips at a smooth, steady pace. You cry out as the ring of sensitivity and overstimulation shoots in your cunt as she takes you raw, your eyes already spilling with tears as her speed picks up, pulling her closer until your bodies feel like molding together.

Karina slaps your clit, making you jolt and cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

She kisses you feverishly; she swallows your whimpers as she doubles the pace, making your back arch against her front.

You cry out helplessly as she throws your legs over her shoulder, allowing her to hit much deeper spots within you and running with effort as her pace becomes sloppy, both walls painfully throbbing for release as your broken moans fuel her and the thin line between pain and pleasure blurred as she stuffs you with her cock.

"More," You panted and clawed her back for leverage. "I'm so close, mommy. So, so close."

"You like that, hm?" She pants and moans softly when your stomach bulges from her thrusts. "Like it when mommy fucks you senseless? Treat you like a fuckdoll?"

You screamed as her tip kissed your cervix. You tangled your hand around her locks and tugged it harshly, making Karina hiss and speeds to a despearate pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as the tip keeps kissing your cervix, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm.

You latch your lips around her neck, sucking and biting her collarbones, and her hoarse moans fill your ears as you bite her Adam's apple, feeling her stutter in her thrusts and punishing you for it by drilling into you at a bruising pace, your vision hazy, your body heavy, skin covered by a veil of sweat as your hands grab onto her biceps or anything that will anchor you from her frantic pace, the skin on your inner thighs burning from the contact, dragging her fake cock in and out of your quivering folds.

Small hips jutting in sharp precision that she flaunts whenever she has a chance, she palms your cheeks, tilting your head up for a kiss, tangibly tender and sensual compared to her pace. The older woman kisses you gently while fucking you senselessly.

The coil in your stomach suddenly snaps with the tension, and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot ecstasy, curling, and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around her one last time, vision blackening as she throws you to your orgasm, blinding you until it consumes you whole, and you're shaking ferociously.

Karina bites your shoulder and comes hard with a harsh shudder. You held onto her tightly. Lungs panted for batted breath as she cradles you, prepping her kisses all over your face and brushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear as you tremble in her arms.

"Sh," She coaxes, "I got you. You did so well." She pressed another kiss on your lips, allowing you to anchor yourself into her. "Hang on, baby. I'll carry you to the bed inside, okay?"

Throat raw from moaning and screaming, you nod, and the woman carries you effortlessly without pulling out. You tighten your arms around her, feeling her against your walls as she carried you inside your private quarters.

She lay you gently against the bed and gently pulls out from your battered walls, and throws the toy somewhere in the room as she lays beside you, her arms automatically finding yours as she flips you so you can be on top of her while the other hand reaches for the sheets so she can keep you warm.

"Thank you," You croaked as you rest your head against her chest and inhaled her soft scent.

Karina returns your gratitude with a soft kiss against your forehead and rubs your back softly, lulling you into sleep. But not without hearing her raspy voice:

"Goodnight, darling. And thank you for indulging me."

"Here we are," Karina parks the car near the university's main building. You tear your gaze away from the window and towards your provider.

"Thanks, Karina." You lean and peck her cheek before exiting the car.

"Wait," The latter calls out and follows after you. The ends of her coat dance in the wind as Karina stands beside you. "I'll escort you there." It wasn't a request, but you didn't mind as you offer to her your hand. Karina smiles brightly, her skin glowing as the golden rays of the sun kiss her face, giving her hazel eyes a bright glow as she takes your hand. You walk together.

"Are you free after class?" She inquires as your footfalls clack against the pavement.

For her?

"Yes,"

"Then I'll pick you up ten minutes after classes, yeah?"

"Sure-"

"And what do we have here?" You freeze while Karina whips her head to the back, where her sister - the dean is standing with her hands on her hips with a perfectly arched brow directed at the both of you, her expression: surprised.

"Irene," Karina greets with a coy grin as you turn to face her. The Hotel Magnate quickly wraps her arm around your waist, pulling you close to her while you bow respectfully towards your dean.

"Good morning, Miss Bae."

"At ease, Miss Seol."

You straighten your back to see that the dean has her eyes on her sibling, and a small smile graces the older Bae's lips.

"So, when did you start boning one of my students, sister?"

"That's a long story, Joohyun." She looks at you, "Come on, I'll take you to the building." You eagerly agree with your paramour and bow to the dean again before leaving her standing there.

"What are we going to do?" You whisper to her, and she sends you a wink.

"She won't interfere, darling." She peers over her shoulder and smirks before returning her gaze to you and kissing you softly.

"You're mine. Remember that." Karina breathes against your lips. "And my sister can't do a thing about it."

Fin

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