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oftenderweapons · 11 months

Text

In Your Calvin's | JJK

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 9.6k

Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship

Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact

Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.

Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.

One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you. (Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)

Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨

You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours.

Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.

And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone.

At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat.

Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery.

You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram.

You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth.

Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see.

Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way.

Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world.

The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance.

“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”

Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why.

“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest.

“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now.

“I'm coming home.” You repeat.

He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.”

“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment.

“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend.

You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers.

“Candy?”

“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call.

On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in.

On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen.

Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.

Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower.

The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be.

“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?”

You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more.

“Candy, love.”

You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours?

How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"?

Who is this man?

Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy?

“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you.

“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish.

This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with.

“Candy—” He starts.

“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.”

He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist.

Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass.

“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”

You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous.

“I reckon you saw the commercial.”

“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic.

Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?”

No. Not just anger.

Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone.

Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.”

The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—

“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade.

“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum.

“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated.

“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.”

And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too.

“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.”

What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other.

“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.”

The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”

You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem.

His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone.

It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over.

He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be.

His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”

You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you.

His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod.

“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m better. I…”

“Tell me what you want.”

You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin.

“Pick me up,” you say softly.

And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom.

“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”

You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him.

He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day.

He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—

“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back.

His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better.

You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him.

You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin.

“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place.

He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.”

You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed.

He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it.

You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so.

“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.”

And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel.

“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow.

He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.”

You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”

His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys.

He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein.

“Do you want—”

“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.”

He stares at you, flabbergasted.

“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.”

He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it.

“Okay.”

You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly.

You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.

You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure.

“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass.

He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly.

This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk.

You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.

He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already.

“Go,” you repeat.

He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.

You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”

He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…

Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered.

And you close the door on him.

You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…

Oh, that, you think. And you get to work.

Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights.

“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you.

He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”.

He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does.

And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him.

“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet.

“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest.

“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief.

“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him.

“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show.

“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.

“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head.

“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”

“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut.

“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”

His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”

“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog

an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see.

It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts.

Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles.

“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face.

You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.”

He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you.

He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes.

“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds.

His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him.

“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly.

“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail.

“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.

“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating.

“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”

His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb.

“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him.

“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin.

“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need.

“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic.

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him.

“I do,” you admit.

He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow.

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion.

“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious.

“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”

“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions.

“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap.

“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown.

You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts.

He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state.

“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped.

“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea.

“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.”

“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”

“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”

“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.

Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact.

“Guk?” You ask, worried.

“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”

You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.

“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”

“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout.

“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch.

“I’m so sorry, bunny.”

“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated.

“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you.

He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”

“No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him.

He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.

Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand.

“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him.

He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”

“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth.

You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on.

“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.”

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy.

“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you.

He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway.

You don’t oppose.

In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs.

You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.

You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy.

He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion.

He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious.

He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again.

“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.

“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know.

“Please,” you manage to say.

He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance.

As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells.

“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”

That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back.

You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard

as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take.

When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you.

“Are you alright, Candy?”

You nod and take some large breaths.

He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even.

“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice.

You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?”

“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf.

He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly.

You press your lips to his to distract him.

The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his.

Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment.

The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”

“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”

He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest.

He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms.

“Still jealous, love?” he asks you.

“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them.

“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you.

You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”

You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.

“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?”

“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment.

“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?”

He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you.

You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”

You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused.

“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat.

“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot.

“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk.

“And yet, you love me.”

“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.

You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down.

His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully.

“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think.

“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face.

You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers.

He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely.

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly.

He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”

You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around.

He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him.

He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.

You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface.

Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone.

Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge.

You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first.

His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches.

Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to.

“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting.

He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him.

“I’m gonna draw you.”

He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?

“Candy?” he calls, unsure.

He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided.

“What— Where—?” He’s confused.

And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for.

“Candy, for the love of—”

“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”

He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him.

“Please,” he whines.

“Just a minute.”

He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress.

“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines.

You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats.

You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head.

“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?”

You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react.

He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him.

He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen.

“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh.

“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?”

You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless.

He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently.

He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry.

Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?”

And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop.

He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle.

You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables.

He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either.

“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?”

You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.”

His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation.

“I'm sure,” you comfort him.

He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you.

You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath.

“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.”

His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars.

“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?”

You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does.

“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick.

“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.”

You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.”

The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth.

He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them.

“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you.

It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you.

You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you.

“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face.

His expression is lazy and satisfied.

Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours.

“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue.

You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May.

“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up.

“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.”

His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”

“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone.

“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”

He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more.

“Can I see the pictures in advance?”

He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”

You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”

He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”

You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back.

You shake your head. “Brat.”

And he kisses you. Just that.

Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him.

He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now.

He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek.

Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass.

He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom.

A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery.

“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young.

You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”

His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet.

“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving.

“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably.

“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”

He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult.

“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again.

He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”

Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x candy #jungkook x yn #jungkook au #bts x reader #52 hertz #bangtansorciere #btswritersclub

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goldenhickeysandramen · 2 months

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Evolution of their narrative

I admit it. I also get confused as to what kind of couple Tae& Koo is supposed to be to their shippers.

When I first joined the fandom they were the “hidden couple”, and jikook was “fan service”, cause is what the masses demanded from BH/Bang PD.

It didn't take me long to realise that the "masses" in this fandom are actually the taek00kers (humaluvre is bigger than the majority of the most famous JK's focus accs) … So I've never really understood who the masses-asking-massively-for-"jikook"-content were 🤷‍♀️

Then, I read them that the big proof that taek00k was real was, precisely, that they couldn’t do all the things that jikook could do so well (you know, travel together only the two of them, stare at each other in rapt attention, sucking ears and necks, treat each other as a married couple, support each other to the fullest, holding hands whenever they have the opportunity…). The reason of them not doing all of these things was South Korea, since it is an homophobic country.

That’s why the company edited the content and didn't let them interact. It was all cuts and so on. Everything they did was private, and that's why there was no evidence, other than some witnesses of people with telescopic sight and facial recognition (maybe they were androids?)

I had more or less understood the narrative, until the LOVEGRAM era started, and that's when it all blew over!

Their insta accounts were no longer professional accounts (like twitter or weverse), but personal… and from then on, their selfies were some short of engagement pics or couple confirmation and their funny comments about boxing hooks were actually whipped messages of love.

Btw it seems South Korea was no longer homophobic at that time.

INSTAGRAM WAS THE LAW

When JK closed his Instagram account (forced by the company 😌) we were already in chapter 2. The lovegram didn't matter anymore…because Jungkook hanging out sometimes with Tae and wooga became the confirmation of what Instagram -in reality- failed to confirm. Never mind that their hanging out concentrated during some months when they both had more free time or that they actually just did what good friends do: having fun at the movies, bowling or skiing together with other friends… but hey, those tiny details don't matter in the great love story that is told.

And from there we move on to the part where the CHAOS really started, when the COMPANION SYSTEM news dropped

And guess what? Korea became homophobic again

Some said that they were forced to part ways (the company, the government, themselves because they wouldn't last a second without f?….). Gays dont enlist together they said.

Another line of argument was that Jimin had asked JK to enlist with him… I guess because he was going to be terrible at the military. LOL

But we all can sense that the most extended opinion was "I can't understand this plot twist for shit".

(Maybe the problem is they never understood their favs but that’s for another post)

And in the midst of CHAOS it was no longer possible to think of a new narrative...that's why the strategy became "attack". If they can't prove that their favourites are a couple, they'll go and debunk the rest.

At this point they don’t seem to care if ta3k00k is real or not… they simply choose not to surrender and ignore some facts. If they freaking ignored Jennie during a year, they will do the same with jikook being glued for 18 months.

So in the next months, we'll probably see part of fandom (solos and tkkers) attacking jikookers, and another part trying to ignore us. I fear the chaos will continue… pretty sure some toxic ones will watch the travel show just to diss jikook..

But we shouldn’t care too much because as we have seen, Jimin and Jungkook will never stop taking their decisions and behaving with authenticity

The boys have chosen their own path this year, not to please the majority of their fandom (jikookers are not the mass), but because they wanted to.

At the end of the day, they care about their fans, but we don’t own their lifes and they have shown us. And I applaud 👏 them

And yes, maybe their country and the careers they have chosen dont allow them to be fully free…. but they dont prevent them to stay one next to the other. They know how to choose the battles worth fighting for.

Don't you think it's beautiful and says a lot about the quality of love and respect that Jimin and Jungkook have for each other?

I think so

"standing in the fire next to you"

💜💛

#kookmin #jikook #jikook kookmin #mingguk #jimin and jungkook #jikook kookmin jinkook jiminshiii jk #minkook #mingukkie

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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isn't it romantic? | myg (01)

ENTRY ONE: Me Before You

⟶ SERIES MASTERPOST

Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

pairing: yoongi x f!reader; side/past taehyung x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: coworkers to lovers, magazine writers au, fluff, angst, eventual smut; central themes of cheating (not between yoongi and oc), swearing (a staple in this household 😗), one bit is a lilllll suggestive?, mentions of drinking, i think that's it hmmm, barely edited bc u know how we do

word count: 5.1k

note: this is the yoongi brainrot speaking !!! the banner for this entry is one of my all time favorite pics of him and i will find a way to use it in everything !!! but erhm yeah iir is officially starting and i'm very curious to see what y'all think about it 😗 please like it haha jk no i'm serious please like it it's my baby

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

I waste my breath on a prayer, you don't care, I was never a part of your plan, You can't make a God of somebody, Who's not even half of a half-decent man.

I Burned LA Down - Noah Cyrus

Half your life, you hated blue.

You often associated it with so many bad things - loss, betrayal, loneliness. The great big storm. The end of life.

Most of the pigtails-wearing girls in your class disliked it because it was often a boy’s color. You hated it because of a stranger on a beach.

Then you discovered Blue Side (as ironic as the name was), the magazine that everybody and their mother was reading. There was this column - the Love Maze (as corny as it sounded) - that had your 15-year-old self hooked from the first article you read, “Flirty Pickup Lines to Text Your Crush”. It gave you a nice little distraction from the reality of your fucked up family.

You’d get home from school and dive right into it. You could count on the maze for a new article every day, covering all kinds of things - cute little quizzes, daily love horoscopes, relationship tidbits…

You started reading it religiously because it was stupid, and fun, but it was more than that too. They covered real-life stories of actual people, which you’d never really thought about. For the most part, it was tedious. Rekindling with an old flame whilst grocery shopping, accidentally spilling coffee on a stranger who then asked you out on the spot, etc. Things like that. You found them so… unremarkable.

But then it went beyond that, when they told their stories looking back on years and years after that first happenstance. How there was love in the mundane. How there was love every single day, even on the bad ones. How there was a spark that two people cared for and nurtured into a warm fire that never burnt out.

How there was love.

How there was always love.

To you, that was magical. It was something you’d only ever heard about in fairytales when you were a kid.

You still remember the exact moment when it all changed for you.

You met Kim Taehyung during your third week at Blue Side, where you were a wide-eyed assistant editor who somehow wiggled her way into a position there, and he was an effortlessly charming graphic designer.

Admittedly, the first time that you two had ever talked, wasn’t under ideal circumstances. You were tucked away behind the office building, nails digging into your palms at 3PM on a sunny but freezing afternoon, willing your tears to stay where they belonged. You’d felt severely underqualified, like you were only flailing about, trying to keep your head above water but something kept pulling at your feet, not stopping until you were at the very bottom. People always talked about how your early 20s were the most beautiful and freeing years, when you could truly live and feel your youth blossom all around you. But that just wasn’t true. Those were the loneliest years of your life.

Taehyung had found you then, while he was out for a quick smoke break. He could’ve made a lame excuse and left, or simply pretended to not notice you were even there, but he stayed. He approached you and asked what was wrong. He offered you words of reassurance and encouragement even though you were nothing but a stranger to him.

You were touched by his simple act of kindness and his endearing smile. Maybe it’s because you’d never been offered much kindness throughout your life that his small gesture seemed like everything. In a way, it was everything. He looked like the kind of fairytale love that you’d only seen in movies, only read about in Love Maze. To this day, a part of you still thinks that you fell in love with him the very second he asked, “Are you okay?”

The timing felt right.

Taehyung felt right.

He, too, was like the sun in the middle of a cold and isolating winter.

You remember the color of his sweater, and it was then that you realized blue didn’t have to be so bad after all.

[15:39] You: what r u doing tonight?

[15:45] Tae ♡: probably just head home after the gym. play a couple matches with Jungkook. hope i don’t die boiling water for ramen and hit the hay early

[15:46] Tae ♡: miss you :(

[15:49] You: thanks

[15:52] Tae ♡: mean

[15:53] You: lol 😇

[15:54] You: i miss you too <3

[15:56] Tae ♡: can’t you come back earlier?

[15:58] You: there’s only a week left. you’re a big boy, u can handle it :)

That was a lie. You were already on the train when you sent him that text, bouncing your leg all the way back to the city at the mere thought of surprising him with your early return. You’d taken a leave from work to visit your family, spent some time somewhere quieter, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city.

You watch as the scenery passes by, fast-paced like you’re in a montage. The rest of forever is right around the corner. You wish you could skip to your happily ever after and not have to rewind the tape ever again.

When the diamond on your ring finger catches the sunlight coming from outside the window, you allow yourself a blissful sigh as you gaze at the jewelry adorning your hand. But if you’re being honest, it doesn’t fit anymore, at least that’s what you’ve noticed over the past month. It’s a little loose now, not quite noticeable but you can still make out the slight difference if you concentrate hard enough. You should get it resized soon, maybe later this week now that your schedule has cleared up earlier than expected.

Three weeks is a lot of time to spend around only your family, you realize. You thought you could do it - seeing that you hadn’t been back in a while - but the second you stepped foot into your childhood home, you remembered what a dysfunctional household you had.

It was nice while it lasted, which wasn’t very long. You did all you could, bit your tongue and tried to suppress that unresolved anger until it eventually became too much to handle. Your mom has always been a complainer. Nobody likes talking about it, but she’d bring up the same old shit almost every day even though you all know what happened. Your dad would just sit there and listen as she berates him in front of you and your sister, and you suppose he keeps quiet because there’s really nothing to be said in his defense. It was his crime, and this is his punishment.

Sometimes, you wonder why dad still stays. Sometimes, you wonder why mom still lets him.

You just wanted to go, even though this was supposed to be home. You want to leave every time you visit, and it’s a haunting feeling that keeps following you around your whole life. Why is home always a place you want to leave?

When you arrived back in the city, the first place you went to was Taehyung’s apartment. You lounged about, enjoying the much needed silence after two whole weeks with your family, killing time as you waited for your fiance to return from work.

You thought about you and Taehyung, and how your wedding was only months away but this was still his place. You wondered why you hadn’t moved in yet, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying on his part. Even though you spent most days of the week at Taehyung’s, you still had your own place.

Twenty minutes before he was usually supposed to come home, you ordered from his favorite restaurant, so he would have a proper meal once he was back, instead of half-assing his dinner with flavorless ramen like he’d planned.

But Taehyung didn’t come back, and the food has been cold for hours now.

You glance at your phone again.

11:02 PM.

No new notifications.

The last message you sent him was around 8:30 - just a simple Whatcha doing? - but he hasn’t replied.

There’s a small part of you that goes into a dark place, and you physically have to shake off the thoughts. Taehyung has never given you a reason not to trust him, but still, the wandering thoughts can’t help themselves. Is it insecurity, or paranoia? Or have you been programmed to be skeptical after everything that’s happened?

Maybe he’s just caught up with work. Maybe the guys at the office had last minute plans. Maybe Jungkook showed up unannounced and dragged Taehyung into one of his shenanigans again. There’s a lot of reasons to explain why he isn’t home when he said he would be.

You wait for him. Sometimes, waiting is all you can do.

You don’t get any indication of life until some time after midnight, when the door opens and you hear him stumble into the hallway. The first thing that escapes you is a sigh of relief - relieved that he’s home, safe and sound, and not out there somewhere doing things you would really not even let yourself imagine. You sit there on the couch, shrouded by darkness, now even more committed to making him squeal out of his skin after (unintentionally) making you wait for hours like that.

You carefully listen to the sounds coming from down the hall, trying to time when you’ll jump up and shock him.

There’s his shoes dropping to the floor carelessly. There’s some shuffling as he moves about, navigating his way through the dark. There’s a light thud, the sound of something hitting the wall softly.

A sharp intake of breath. His familiar groan, muffled. A whimper, feminine.

Your mind instantly blanks, and that nervous breath from before has suddenly found its way back into your lungs, growing in size until you stand up and say, “Tae?”

Somebody shrieks, and it’s neither you nor Taehyung.

When he switches on the lights, you don’t know what to focus on first - your fiance with his shirt unbuttoned, red lipstick smudged around the corners of his mouth; or the woman next to him with her back against the wall, hair disheveled, one strap of her pretty blue dress pulled down.

Huh.

If this was what you wanted, then you suppose you succeeded.

Taehyung stares at you, eyes blown wide, mouth opening and closing dumbly as he searches for words. “Y/N, I-” he stutters, “w-what are you doing here?”

You’ve seen this exact moment in movies, read it in books and online posts on the Blue Side forum from people seeking advice. You witnessed your own mother go through it when you had just learned how to read.

Your nails dig into the palm of your hands as you steady yourself. You’re not sure what your face is showing, if it’s even showing anything at all. You’re being pulled apart in every direction. Things that you felt as a child are things you never wanted to feel as an adult. It’s not until now that you finally understand why mom hasn’t gotten over it, even though it’s been decades. This is the kind of hurt that chases you wherever you go, never relenting until it makes sure it has a home deep within your bones.

You inhale a shaky breath, and take a step back when Taehyung starts approaching you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking on the apology.

You don’t want to hear any of it. You don’t want to be here anymore. For the second time today, you’re leaving home. For the second time in your life, home is being taken away again.

Somewhere in the back of your head, a tiny voice echoes, There it is.

You run out of there, feeling like the ceiling is going to collapse on you. You hear him call out your name, but his voice drifts further and further away as you move. Taehyung isn’t even following you. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath follows you out, but not him.

You keep moving until you’re out on the street, until you can’t even see the building anymore. You shiver from the chilly air, and the influx of emotions that threatens to make you burst. Lightning cuts across the night sky, flashing bright for a split second before everything dulls into darkness again. The forecast said it was going to rain tonight, you recall. Your phone in your bag vibrates the whole time, but still, no one follows you.

Your feet slow to a halt when the first drop of rain hits the ground. You’re not even sure how long you were walking, but now that you’ve stopped, you notice the shiver is gone. You’re standing completely still, and that those seismic waves in the center of your chest from earlier are nowhere to be found.

Oh. You’re doing it again.

Heavier drops start to dampen the earth.

You don’t know where else to go.

Not your own apartment. Not now. No, it’s too empty there.

Maybe it’s a sign from the universe, that you’re just undeserving of a place to belong.

You open your phone to find his name on your screen, next to the words (7) missed calls. You ring up the only person you can, and when she finally picks up, you say, “Can I come over?”

Even when your voice cracks, you don’t cry. The earthquake never comes.

Sohee takes you in like the good friend she is. You’re grateful that she was someone you could count on to always have your back at work, who then turned into one of your best friends outside of the office too.

She gives you some clothes to change into, and doesn’t question anything when you ask if you could spend the night. Though, you have a feeling that she knows who this is about. She leaves you alone to get some rest, but it’s probably because she has work in the morning too, and it was already 1:30AM when you interrupted her peace and quiet with the call.

You don’t sleep a wink that night.

Instead, you think about your mom, and how she must have felt when she found out about your dad’s infidelity, time and time again. It’s true what they say, children really don’t know a lot about their parents.

How did she feel when she first found out? You can’t imagine what it must have been like, going through all of that while having two kids to think about too.

You feel bad that just yesterday, you’d been so annoyed with her that you cut your trip short.

Outside Sohee’s windows, the sky cries, like it’s grieving in place of you, its tears drowning the earth in waves of sorrow. For a moment, you consider stepping out there, to feel the rain on your face and in your hair. But in the end, you stay inside, where you’re sheltered and dry.

You don’t realize that the sun has risen until Sohee knocks on your - well, her - door.

She cracks it open gently. “Babe?” she asks, tentative like you’re a cornered animal, ready to bolt at any given moment. “Are you up?”

You lie in her bed, feeling so foreign in your own skin. You reckon your eyes must be bloodshot from the lack of sleep. You haven’t even cried once.

“I’m alive,” you tell her, as you stare up at the ceiling. There are no stars here, just plain cream-colored paint.

“Okay,” you hear her say, then she pauses for a moment, clearly not knowing how to proceed.

Sohee approaches you, sits on the bed, and gives you a smile. She pats your hair, and it reminds you of your sister. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I have some time before I meet Namjoon for breakfast.”

You sit up, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. It’s been switched off since you got here, and when you turn it back on, a flurry of texts light up the device until the screen lags. Messages from Taehyung, asking where you were, begging you to tell him if you were safe.

You open the texts to show him that you’ve read them. That should be enough of an answer.

You test the words in your mouth for a moment. “Taehyung cheated on me,” you say, thinking that if you verbalize it, it would be real and you would finally feel bad. That it was just a delayed reaction, that you were just too in shock to process anything. You want to feel bad, but it doesn’t work.

Sohee’s eyes widen almost comically. “Are you fucking serious?” she asks in disbelief, half because of the nature of the news itself, and half because of how calm you are.

“He cheated on me,” you repeat and still, nothing surfaces. If anything, it backfires. You can physically feel yourself doing it again - shutting down. “I caught him last night.”

You’re not sure what’s wrong with you. This isn’t a normal person’s reaction after they found out their fiance was cheating on them.

But.

It is a you reaction.

You keep doing this, even when you don’t mean to. You ran away last night, and you’re running away now. Your body shuts out every negative emotion until you feel nothing at all. It’s stupid that you do this, and it’s stupid that you don’t know how to stop doing it.

Fight or flight, and you choose flight every time. Every single fucking time.

You wish you could give Sohee something, anything would do. Scream, cry, go back to your apartment to set fire to all of Taehyung’s belongings. Anything would be better than this complete lack of emotions you’re showing.

You watch her face as it happens, things that you should be feeling but aren’t. She’s mostly shocked, angry, but not hurt. How could she? She wasn’t the one being played for a fool. You wish you could ask her to give you some of that anger, even if it’s only a fraction.

You don’t see Taehyung again until two days later, when he shows up at your door. Even when he’s standing in front of you, words spilling from his lips like prayers instead of apologies, you just feel… empty.

You let him inside, and the second that the door closes behind him, you fill up with unease. All your walls are up again, your system on high alert. Everything in your body is telling you that there’s an intruder in your space. Your feet are ready to bolt, just itching to get out of there Go, your head says, you’re not safe here.

Taehyung approaches you, tries to hold your hand, but you just shrug him off. The man in front of you visibly deflates, and despite the way his face falls, you don’t soften.

The first thing he asks you is, “Why didn’t you cry?”

“What?”

“You don’t look like you’ve been crying,” he points out. “Did you cry?”

Reluctantly, you admit, “No.”

Then he just stares at you. When his judgmental gaze holds yours, you feel guilty. Guilty that you’re not mourning the death of this relationship. Guilty that you’re just letting it go, but the truth is you don’t have any fight in you. You don’t see the point in trying to salvage what’s no longer alive.

“Do you even love me?” His voice is hard when he asks this, like he’s trying to keep his anger at bay.

“Of course I love you,” you say, but it lacks conviction. You both know it. The words sound so flaccid coming out of your mouth.

But you love him.

You do.

Did?

“Then why didn’t you cry?”

How do you tell him that you can’t? That you don’t know how?

How do you tell him that if you could, you would reach inside and claw out your feelings like digging for water in a desert.

What the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t a high school crush, or a casual summer fling.

You two were supposed to get married, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to spend the rest of your life with him. If there’s anything that could make you break through those godforsaken defense mechanisms to let the hurt in, it should be this.

“Did you kiss someone else just to see if I would cry?” you ask. Your voice is even, and you can see that it makes Taehyung more frustrated than he already is.

He grits his teeth, exhaling. You notice his blue sweater, and you stop him before he can say anything else. Obviously, it looks a lot more worn than it did back then, but over the years you’ve always found it endearing. It’s the first memory that you have of him. It was always something you could cherish.

Now, you can’t even bear to look at it.

It’s then that you realize it doesn’t matter what answer he gives you. Yes? No? It genuinely doesn’t matter. There is nothing that can make you see him the same way ever again.

You run your thumb over the ring on your finger, twisting it for a moment to memorize the feel of it. It’s the last thing that ties you to him. “You can have this back,” you say, handing the piece of jewelry back to him.

When a relationship ends, especially for a reason like this, people tend to think it’ll go down in a kdrama-esque fashion - crying, slapping, throwing water in the other person’s face. But that’s not what this is. It’s not cathartic; sometimes the end of a relationship is just a fizzle, doesn’t even make it to a fullburn. It might be unsatisfying, but it happens every day. It’s not always a pivotal point; sometimes it’s just a point.

Taehyung stares at the object in his palm. “That’s it?” he asks in disbelief. “We’re breaking up?”

“What else is there to do?”

“You’re not even gonna ask me anything? Who she was, how it started, how long it’s been going on?”

The other morning, Sohee had asked you to elaborate after you told her what happened, but there was just not that much to tell. You were there. He brought someone else home. End of story.

It was enough for Sohee to call him every name in the book and curse his entire bloodline though.

You suppose that’s a reasonable reaction. Taehyung cheated. You never thought he was a person capable of doing that. Three years of your life, down the drain. There’s nothing left to save.

“Okay,” you shrug tiredly, like you’re just having a casual and dull conversation about the weather. “Who was she? How did it start? How long has it been going on?”

Your name comes out of his mouth, sounding like a scoff. “Ask it like you mean it.”

“But I don’t mean it,” you say. “What difference does it make? Knowing doesn’t change the fact that you still cheated on me. You know what I’ve been through and you still fucked it up. You did the worst thing you could ever do to me.”

“Fuck, I know that!” he groans, throwing his hands up. “I messed up badly, and I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry. I will never deny that what I did wasn’t wrong. But have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re to blame for this too? You never want to admit that it could be your fault too.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me. I keep having to put up with your baggage.” Then he shuts right up, barely even makes it through the last syllable before he’s squeezing his eyes shut for a second, clearly realizing that out of all the things he could’ve said, that was grossly out of line. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean th-”

And now you’re getting angry for the wrong reasons.

“You cheated but somehow it’s my fault, right?” you snap. “Boohoo. Sorry that you’ve had to put up with me all these years. I’m such a burden, right? Fuck you, Taehyung.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“I think you should leave.”

You think it’s the steel in your voice as you say this that makes him stop arguing.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer. You’re someone who tears up when you see stray dogs, who cries alongside the fictional characters in your favorite show. And yet, as you watch your own fiance leave…

The door clicks shut as he exits your life, but everything he said stays behind, clings to your walls and festers like mold.

The second you step onto the floor, everyone grows quiet. Lively chatter turns into hushed whispers. People go back to making their morning coffee, side-eyeing each other in a way that’s not meant to be very subtle.

You quietly make your way to your desk, all the while feeling the nosy pairs of eyes on you as you walk. You don’t know how word got out, but you were sure that everyone would know eventually. You just didn’t expect it’d be this soon. Sohee would never do that to you, and you highly doubt that Taehyung would go around broadcasting his infidelity.

As you set your stuff down, you make eye contact with the new intern who sits a few spots away from you. You haven’t had the chance to talk to her much, but she’s a nice girl. She gives you a small smile in greeting, and even though you know she doesn’t mean to pity you, you can still see it in her eyes.

A minute later, Sohee comes up to you. “Hey, babe,” she says, leaning on your desk with two plastic cups in her hands. One iced latte and one mango smoothie. She puts the yellow-colored beverage down and nudges it toward you, a little lackluster and unlike her usual playful self.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the smoothie with a smile, commenting, “Interesting morning so far. Never thought I’d ever be the subject of office gossip.”

“Yeah, about that. Do you know who was Taehyung’s… uhm… y’know?”

It’s okay. She can say it. You can handle it.

You already feel nothing, and there’s nothing you can even do to rectify it. Might as well lean into it, right?

Or maybe you should just go to therapy.

“No,” you tell her. “I didn’t want to know.”

“Well, uhm, now that the whole office knows, I think you should hear this from me first…” Sohee bites her bottom lip as she gauges your reaction. When you only sigh and give her the go-ahead, she continues, “It was Yura from Marketing.”

“What?”

“Yura from Marketing. You know the one. Brought muffins for the whole office on her first day? A little too bubbly for my taste. But yeah, she was at work the other day and suddenly burst into tears at, like, 10AM, and that’s how everybody found out.”

Of course. Even though people here are surrounded by celebrity gossip on the daily, nothing beats the good old-fashioned office affair. Why bother with celebrity gossip when you have front row seats to live drama unfolding ten feet away?

You take a sip of your smoothie, swallowing down the inkling of irritation that tickles the back of your throat. “Well,” you say, “I’m glad the downfall of my relationship is like a circus animal for them to gawk at. Can’t wait until they move onto the next big thing.”

“Honestly, it might blow over sooner than you think. The Love Doctor is back today.”

“What?” Your ears perk up at the mention of his name, glancing up at her in surprise as you put your drink down. “Doesn’t he work at the Paris office?”

“He used to work here. We joined around the same time. Then he transferred to Paris a few years ago. Nobody even knows why. One day he just upped and left.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he’d be here? I didn’t have time t-”

“Calm down, sweetcheeks, I only just found out,” Sohee chuckles, holding a finger against your mouth to shush you. “We all know you used to have a major lady boner for him.”

“I do not.” You don’t even know what he looks like, just his name when it appears in the byline of an article. “I admire him.”

Which is true, you do admire him. He’s your own version of a freaking rockstar. Though, you have to admit that Love Doctor is a huge cliche of a nickname, and significantly reduces the scope of his brilliance. The way that man writes makes it seem like he’s experienced lifetimes and is now here to pass on his wisdom.

He doesn’t feel like a mere magazine writer like yourself. There’s something in his words that turns you inside out, makes you experience things that you’ve never even gone through. He flows like poetry, and leaves you stunned every time.

Okay, maybe you do have a lady boner, but for his brain.

Which… is probably something you should never say out loud.

Someone walks in then, a man you’ve never seen before. He looks around your age, if not a couple of years older. He bypasses all of the other desks without saying anything, not a single Hi or Good morning. He doesn’t look like the type to speak if not spoken to.

Then he walks over to where you and Sohee sit, and sets his bag on the empty desk next to yours.

You look at Sohee, and she just shrugs.

It can’t be him. Surely, it’s not…?

“Min Yoongi,” she says in greeting.

Oh, it is.

He spares her a nod before he looks away again. “Sohee.”

Is that the Parisian way? Is that how people normally greet someone they haven’t seen in years? Sohee and him were only colleagues, but still, the least you could do is pretend.

You’re not one to judge a book by its cover, but c’mon, seriously? Were you wrong for expecting the person who writes about love in its most raw and beautiful form to look… not like Grumpy Cat personified? It makes you even more fucking intimidated. And he’s going to be sitting next to you? The fuck?

As he sits down, you blink, still a bit dazed, not sure how to process this. Sohee gently pushes you forward, which makes you nearly stumble right into him. You turn to her with a glare, but she just motions to him, mouthing ‘Go on.’

You clear your throat, wiping your hand on your pants before you hold it out. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, trying to sound as professional as you can. “I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

He glances at you, and reaches out to meet your outstretched hand in a barely-there handshake. “Yoongi.”

752 notes · View notes

aajjks · 2 years

Text

Mommy Issues [TEASER]

synopsis. They needed you, They wanted you.

pairing: yandere!single dad!jk x fem!reader.

genre: DARK, FLUFF, ANGST, YANDERE, extreme YANDERE. THRILLER.

tw: mentions of a d**d b*dy, manipulati*n, obsession, toddler child. mentions of s*x.

note. YAYYY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS MINI SERIES (?) Based on the reaction this gets, I’ll continue this. PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS OR QUESTIONS EVEN. enjoy! wanna be tagged? reply under THIS POST ONLY!

header credits @introgfx 🙏🙏😭💕

[pic found on Pinterest]

*not edited*

part one

It all started when,

A newborn infant was forced in his hands as he watched the hospital staff take the dead body away.

Jungkook watched with unshed tears glossing over his brown orbs, his grip unbeknownst to him tightening protectively around the baby. His life had just crumbled right before his tired eyes.

His whole life was ruined in a span of an year.

It was just another night, it was supposed to be just one night of meaningless sex and nothing more.

That woman was a one night stand. She didn’t mean anything to him. He didn’t care about her, hell, he didn’t even know her name.

He was drunk and depressed. Jeongguk was a reckless young man. He only cared about sex and nothing more.

Jungkook still remembered the last five years so clearly, it was like yesterday when he received a call from one of the local hospitals of Seoul.

He still felt the trembling of his legs as he was standing there, his mind was all over the place.

The day that changed his life forever….

The cry from his toddlers mouth broke him out of his trance.

Jungkook tapped on his chin as he watched his son pout, his heart swelled inside his chest as he stared into those familiar bambi eyes of the toddler.

“What’s wrong? Jeon-Seol?” He cooed, softly brushing away the hair as he waited for his son to respond. “Yknow it’s your first day in kindergarten? You should be excited! You’ll get to meet so many kids… you’ll make so many new friends!” Jungkook smiled, wiping away the tears that fell from Jeon-Seol’s eyes.

“D-Daddy I-I don’t wanna go… w-wanna stay with you…” he cried, as he hugged his tiny body to jungkook who was down on one knee. Jeongguk hugged the child back.

Humming a lullaby in order to calm him down, running his hands to soothe his tiny back. “Sweetheart, do not be afraid. You’re so strong and brave aren’t you?” Jungkook whispered to Seol.

The toddler only whined into his fathers neck as he nuzzled closer. “You’re my strong little guy, right?” Jungkook was feeling so excited, his heart was jumpy, a hint of impatience in his tone.

“B-But daddy- hush, jeon-seol.” Jungkook carefully broke the hug as he cradled his sons face in his hands.

“You don’t want to go and spend time with our favourite?” Jungkook couldn’t help himself as he knitted his eyebrows.

“You don’t want to go to ms Y/N?” It was jungkook turn to pout. “Weren’t you telling me the other day how much you missed your mommy?”

The child stopped crying as he stared innocently into Jeongguks eyes.

Not being able to catch the dark glint in his daddy’s eyes. “Y-Yes daddy… I missed ms Y/N…” he confessed, his chubby cheeks huffing.

“I want to go to mommy… just like you said daddy.” He whimpered. Jungkook smiled again. “Daddy?”

Jungkook hummed again.

“When will mommy come to live with us forever?”

Jungkook blinked. His heart fluttering as he took a deep breath.

“Soon, my dear son, soon. I want mommy to come with us too.”

2K notes · View notes

kanmom51 · 10 months

Text

JK Incheon airport 12 July 2023

Our sweetheart Kookie left for NY.

Can anyone be ANY more adorable than this man?????

Can they?

Be any more adorable?

I just adore him.

And another angle.

*Side note: Those pants seem to be a little big on him. Kind of like given to him to walk through the airport without proper fitting, long tracksuit even though it's summer and hot. Do we smell an ambassadorship in the air?

He's happy. He's hyped.

Black N' White as usual with great pics.

And yeah, how can I post about JK at the airport today without talking about...ta da da... THE RING?

It's a little hard to see the details on that ring in this pic.

Let's find a better one.

A little better, but not good enough yet.

Soooo much better.

Side tracked for a second here, but that JM looks darker again. Just saying.

Do we have an even better pic?

And I mean, not an edited one like this one:

Look, I know people (cult) are talking about this ring being the Chanel Wooga squad ring. They want it to be that ring so so bad they literally edited it onto JK's finger.

I personally do not think it's that ring.

Let's start with:

If you have to edit the ring onto JK's finger then it probably ain't the ring you want it to be.

The grooving on the ring just doesn't look the same to me.

Also, Wooga, they wear the ring on their index finger, friendship and stuff.

JK has the ring on his pinky. And it's not like this is an index ring, it's smaller. You know, like the kind that would fit a certain someone that has cute smol (yes I know that's not how you write small, it's just cute) handsies.

Also, exact fit. Definitley not an index finger ring just moved to the pinky.

Remember this?

Oh, and there is this too:

Another option:

Option 3?

Although the grooves on the ring look more like the first JM ring option (the ring from the Samsung ad) than the second option or the third.

In any case, I guess Jenni saw the talk, cause girl, she fought right back.

Oopsy to all the cult fuckers. Cos play you say? Well folks, fuck off into your dream land, cause Jenni is on the block...

Oh, and also posting this:

Done and dusted.

Omg, and this is so cute, lol.

youtube

A few more hours to the teaser...

See you on the other side.

#Jungkook #JK #JK Seven #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM #JK airoport #JK NY #Youtube

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xo-cod · 6 months

Note

OP I AM🖤✨ IN L O V E ✨🖤

with the bg!141 😭

It's got me to the point of major brainrot P L Z like fr I gots ideas in my head I hope u don't mind me rambling,,,

• Popstar's fanbase just e x p l o d e s with so many edits when they see people posting about the Big Boys™ that is the bg!141 😮‍💨

• Sometimes when popstar goes out, the boys are on rotation who goes with them in public and now there's so many edits of each of em if they find the guy's social media 👀

• Popstar gets booked by major designers and photographers for some fun (and sometimes secretly risqué 👀) photoshoots; and if there's no set schedule for the Boys™, it's a fight (/jk) to see which one goes to the shoot with them. (They take so many behind the scenes pics to send in their 141 gc anyway)

• During events, the Boys definitely feel like Popstar's Stylist is out to kill them with the fits they put them in ✊😔 takes everything in 'em to not just grab hold of them and keep em in the limo for some fun- (but the Stylist also is propbably killing Popstar, when they dress the Boys™ up to match them for the night 🤤)

• It's always so precious when Popstar meets one of their own idols and inspirations at these events because they're a stuttery mess, but knows it means so much to em when their idol compliments them 🥹🖤

I am unhealthy (in the best way) for this au im sorry 😭

- 🔒

i'm so sorry i got to this so late :( i love all of them n you !! they're so sweet :") 🤍

141 going absolutely viral to the song big boys by sza i'm 😭😭

especially for events, popstar!reader getting papped with the sparkly outfit she got on the colour matching one of their ties :")

each of them acting like a brick wall whenever there's a crowd of people, only backing down when you give them the all clear

going absolutely feral and jealous when they see your risqué photos on your social media, the fact that others have access to the pictures?? instant block (by them)

johnny and simon have been known to go on burner accounts and gently threaten anyone who's thirsting over the pics a lil too much

each of them having a special touch on your body to calm your nerves, very subtle so it looks like nothing to the public but it's very intimate and private between you both

and if you ever befriend any of the 141 fave artists, be prepared for him to go all fanboy on you. literally will ask for the very last detail about them

#asks #simon riley #bodyguard!simon riley #bodyguard!141 #🔒 anon <3

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not-goldy · 4 months

Note

Right now there are some tkk left confused. Some left after Paris, some have been barely hanging on. Even saw some saying what Tae did with JK with the face time shirtless screenshot, actually mad them angry because now they feel Tae is gaslighting them or trolling them, esp since its all but confirmed he was in fact dating Jennie for 2 years. Coming to terms with things isn't easy or instant. It takes time. You don't have to switch from Tk to Jikook and accept Jikook is real now. What you can do is set yourself on your own path, away from the major big TK accounts still gaslighting you and making hella money off you. You say, well they aren't leaving and staying for a reason, maybe they do know things about TK. OR maybe its more like, why would they leave, even if Taekook is not real, cause you give them clout, money, attention and exposure. They ain't leaving when you do that, but you can.

The 5 big tk accounts who always end up on report accounts and you know who they are. Start with reporting these accounts and help them get taken down. Or better yet, take a stand against them and speak your peace to them. You earned the right. Do you honestly, deep down really think Jikook did this because there were no other choices? Come on. Don't do that to yourself. You've been corrected by Karmy who actually speak Jk's language on what he wanted to do and the reality is, it wouldn't have been where Tae is. And Tats didn't prevent him for being with Tae, cause Tae could have scarified and did this with Jk and went with him and you know this. This isn't a case of Jk will transfer to be with Tae after 5 weeks. You also know that is not gonna happen, it would defeat the whole point of what Jk did enlisting through buddy system. I am speaking to you like a rational adult. Like a human. Don't let these accounts who have gaslit you and made money off you, continue to lead you down a path of thinking Taekook are real and dating and Jimin and Hybe are villains keeping them apart and after military Tk are gonna come out and announce they are married with 2 adopted children. (TBH, you should have reported that grumpy tkk woman the day she said this, cause you know that is not sane. Its actually defamation, slander and mental illness) that you went alone with. You know Jk is a capable adult. You wanna say, well he liked a taekook tiktok. And honey he is the creator of GCF Tokyo, the biggest Jikook edit with a queer love song. He might have liked a TK tiktok edit, like he did a Jinkook edit, but he went with Jimin to Japan for 5 days right before enlisting. Sorry, to me that holds more significance. Saying Tae showed them shirtless was sending a message. They were also in sperate houses, talking and Vmin also said they video call shirtless, so there's that. Not to mention Jikook were standing next to each other on their private vacation with arm around their naked torso, in Jk's bday post pic from Jimin. The word T O G E T H E R, not separate houses. Don't do this to yourself and do the compare game, it won't work out for you. Do yourself a favor and Take what Jikook did with this enlistment as a reminder, to never let anyone else tell you what to feel or think, cause Taekook lives is telling you Jikook are not close, but Jikook are showing you different. Think for yourself. Or, wait around and keep holding on and let the fall be so bad, you will never recover from it. That is a scary thought to live with. If you think Paris was a bad fall, you wait for Jikook out of the Military. This was your warning shot from jikook. Your way as an out for good. Their way of telling you nothing will ever stop them from prioritizing each other and best believe they gonna show you when they get out. I would listen to them, if it were me and not someone gaslighting me to make money off me. Choice is yours.

💜💜💜💜💜💜

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girlyliondragon · 11 months

Text

GUESS WHERE MY SUDDEN DORMANCY WITH THEM WENT HAHA.

Here's a Suselle Pride Month pic! This actually started out as something I did as a spite reaction to the hate this ship gets and it's still getting it because people don't know how to look at characters as any sort of 2-dimensional except me (jk I've seen a lot more folks thankfully) SO IT'S STILL SPITE LOL. It was only when I realized that June was coming when I lined it at the tail-end of April that I held onto this and slowly worked over it in the month of May. So it wasn't originally for now. Funny that tbh.

This was also me fucking around and finding out with Sai 2's scatter brushes now at my disposal :D I love the sorta blatant Fire and Ice thing with them still. I won't lie in the slightest it was greatly inspired by Lynxgriffin's piece of them. Other than that I draw everything from scratch and my hands were screaming for a while (If tumblr isn't still fucky with links I'd do that but until then aaaaa..)

Art: Mine

Do not steal/crop/edit/etc. Do not tag as kin/me ty! Suselle haters DNI :U

#Deltarune #Deltarune Fanart #Noelle Holiday #Noelle Deltarune #Susie Deltarune #Suselle #Em Doodles #Cleverly lesbian colored sapphics lol #Personally I'm still more of a Heavily Sapphic-leaning Bi Susie gal even when I ship her only and exclusively with Noelle #but listen I'm bi as fuck for women rn too. man I wish girls were real (jk) so Solidarity. :D #There's a lot of layers in this pic so RIP Sai when I was drawing it #shout out to that dude that put an entire hate rant bashing the ship btw by greatly mischaracterizing both parties. (/neg)#he reeeaaally brought those spite feelings back and motivated me to draw these two again so props for letting me do that again lol #btw Imma throw the inspo piece in the notes.

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mrs-monaghan · 5 months

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjBH2Mos/

Hey Shaz, i was watching this video and i noticed that Jk didn’t really say much about Jimin. There were two times when all the other members said stuff about the person whose pic they picked but Jk was silent and then when he finally answered that last question about Jimin, he answered in a very generic way and even Jimin had to ask him to be specific. I dunno but i kinda felt a lil weird about it. Is it that Jk really doesn’t know Jimin that well or did he just intentionally not want to say much about Jimin? Or do u think they might have been going through a rough patch here? Cuz whether u think they are dating or not, those are very basic things that anyone would know about their bandmates atleast so him being quiet while all the other members said stuff about each other was kinda weird to me a lil bit. The only way he really wouldn’t know those stuff is if he really doesn’t give a shit about Jimin cuz after having stayed with someone for that long you will atleast know those basic things about them. I really don’t know what to think about this clip. What do u think?

Aish. Anon u sent me the video and after reading your ask i feel like we both watched 2 different things. Man, when the vermin and antis jump to conclusions idgaf but when a Jikooker does it, it does my head in. Honestly.

Original

youtube

(@chicknbunny13 xoxo)

First question

JK answers:

Even i know that answer. Any Jikooker or Jimin stan knows all about Jimin's love for the stage. Huge thing he has in common with JK btw so of course JK knew the answer.

There was some other questions but we don't get to see JK's answers. They edited off a few member's answers to multiple questions. So we only see JK answer twice and already you concluded he doesn't know Jimin?

2nd and only other question he answered

JK's answer

Jimin interjects

So JK rectifies

All the members including Jimin, laugh.

According to my English comprehension JK wasn't wrong. He said that moment was a vacation because Jimin doesn't usually have a preference. Guess he has no issue with organising or going with the flow. And since we have it on record Jikook taking vacations together, its safe to say JK knows what Jimin likes for/during vacation.

Anon you are so busy nit picking the two answers, two! That you missed JK calling Jimin sexy

Then looking right at him

And the grunt he makes before he says that... 🤭

You also missed the part where JK picked Jimin's card on purpose. They were all supposed to pick randomly but JK checked the cards in advance and gave V the other one then kept Jimin's.

You can see JK inspect the cards before handing one to V.

Now, one could argue JK couldn't really pick himself because then where would be the fun in that? And you know what? That's fair. But I would argue a) JK has a habit of cheating in order to end up with Jimin and b) JK peaking at the cards in the first place when they weren't supposed to? Come on now. Refer back to point (a)

So!

JK was never silent. That was just the editing and we never got his answers.

The 2 questions we did see JK got both answers right.

Other members were calling each other handsome but of course JK had to call Jimin sexy. This isn't a word straight men throw at eo willy nilly. (Compare JK grunting at Jimin's photo and calling him sexy, to him shouting "sexy namjoon!" at that online concert and tell me you don't see the difference

In conclusion; this obsession with Jikook fighting every other Tuesday or breaking up has got to end.

#ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #jikook analysis #jimin and jungkook #kookmin #minkook #jimin #jungkook #whipped jungkook

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jkstompers · 2 years

Text

the flower festival | jjk

pairing: alatfsg!couple, jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: sexual tension and corsets don’t mix… unless you have a willing prince that has been dreaming to unlace it himself.

genre: best friends to lovers, smut, fluff, royalty!au, crown princess!oc, prince!jk

warnings: 18+!!, mature!!!!!, making out, some mirror play (barely), heavy petting, oral sex (f + m receiving), cum-eating

word count: 11.8k

author’s note: hello everyone! ๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑ it’s been a while since i’ve posted this couple! i’ve been super hesitant to post this because writing smut is such a weak point for me and i wasn’t satisfied with the smut in this for the longest time, but i’ve edited it enough to make it bearable. so pls let me know what u think! .^◡^. also if there are any typos i am so sorry... but i hope u enjoy either way! (｡>﹏<)

banner pic cred here!

read the previous part here!

patience is a virtue.

on the first of may, that night when jungkook proposed to you. the two of you ended up spending the night in the city. everyone else was allowed to go out and celebrate, but you and jungkook had to be hidden from the public eye, so while you guys were holed up in your apartment; they took shots in honor of the two of you.

alone, you and jungkook did the normal things engaged couples do. eat delivery pizza, watch pretty little liars, and of course: make out.

when you kissed jungkook that night, something changed between the two of you. which was expected, but you can never prepare for how different things could be. there was some awkward talk beforehand, like how you were trying to explain everything after season two (because that’s when jungkook stopped watching.) but, he always knows when and how to strike.

“so are spencer and toby still together? i thought he betrayed her.” jungkook asks intently, biting off a piece of his pizza crust.

you suck in a breath through your teeth. “it’s complicated— you really just have to watch it to understand everything.”

“yeah?” he asks, staring at your face and leaning his cheek against his fist. the sound of emily talking in the back fades into the background for him. he was listening at first— about how toby only did it to protect spencer but soon enough, the words started going into one ear and out the other. he was only really listening to how sweet your voice sounds. you explain the show’s twists and turns because you know jungkook wouldn’t watch the rest of it. he was done with the show by season two. spoby was his ship. finding out that toby was a member of the a team sent him over the edge— he vowed to never watch the show again because it’s treasonous to do that to the woman you love. (and since he vowed to never watch it again, he’ll never know that they actually end up together.)

so as you explain everything, jungkook pretends he’s listening. technically he is. staring directly towards your lips, watching your lips turn into a smile when you realize that he wasn’t catching anything you were putting down. “can you repeat anything i said to you?”

“what?” he laughs, lifting his head from his hand. “my apologies, princess, i was too busy thinking.”

“about?”

“your lips.”

the two of you turned a new leaf. you were in no way going to deny yourself the luxury of jungkook’s lips, especially as a princess; you are allowed everything you could ever want. and all you want right now, is him.

it starts slow, one sweet kiss that has the two of you giggling. three kisses that lead the slower pace. then so on. jungkook swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. the both of you kiss through giggles and gasps. you climb onto his lap after a few minutes of lip locking and sit yourself down on something prominently hard. you can’t help but breathe out a moan at the feeling. it makes jungkook groan against your lips. the feeling of your warm core on him makes his head spin.

he calls for a time out, laying his head against the couch to catch a breather. you know, allow himself to relax. it was fun, provoking jungkook when he was like this: flustered. so as you sit on his lap, his problem is still very evident. you quirk an eyebrow and ask, “are you hard?”

jungkook lets out a little laugh before lifting his head back up to look at you. a roll of his eyes and a small smile as he replies, “not even gonna answer that.” he dives back in, sliding his tongue against yours as you moan out. his hands on your lower back, pulling you closer and closer until you were only one step away from doing the deed.

“are we—” you start but jungkook already knows what you’re going to say.

“fuck— i’m sorry, princess. too much?” he pulls himself away. “you said you wanted to take it slow.” he holds you gently in his lap, not as close as before. he’s biting his lip now, scared that he did take it too far.

you blush. “right— yeah, of course, slow.” you nod incessantly, trying to calm yourself down even though you’re one hundred percent sure your underwear is soaked. your reply puts him at ease, he can hear that you’re as flustered as he is.

with a gentle laugh, he holds your cheek in his hand. “whenever you want it, just know i do too.” he assures you. “but i want to do this right, wanna make sure everything is perfect, you know?” the way he’s tilting his head to the side and giving you that lazy smile; it’s testing your abstinence. you could just take him here and now. but you refrain, understanding that it’s just probably not time yet.

“i know.” you nod again, sheepishly. “hungry?” you ask him as you shuffle off of his lap.

he laughs at the way your face turns pink. “one more kiss.”

and so it went on. day after day. week after week. leading to now. it’s almost the end of may. you and jungkook are doing good, abstaining from sexual desires by basically avoiding each other whenever the urges come. neither of you are sure you can hold out any longer. but the two of you put up a strong front. jungkook doesn’t know that you’d pounce on him within a second if he asked. you don’t know that jungkook would kiss every inch of your skin if you told him he could. there’s just a lot of nervous feelings surrounding sex between the two of you. a kiss is one thing, but sex is another.

besides the copulation conundrum; spring is in full swing. the flowers in raemor are in full bloom. the pretty pastel colors remind you of the special time that comes every year.

the annual raemor flower festival!

every kingdom in the world is invited; they’re welcome to party and stay at the palace whenever the flower festival comes around. with the multiple rooms in the castle, two chateaus under your name, and the jeon family's castle, it was safe to say that you could never run out of space to help house all the families that were invited to the festival.

it took place over a week; sometimes people would stay the entire week, a couple of days, a night, or maybe even just a couple of hours. it was just a huge sleepover party that welcomed every kingdom of the world to check out how pretty the flowers are in raemor. it was also a time to network, befriend more people, and assure that alliances were kept.

you’d heard from blue that this year is expected to be the largest turn out in history, and it’s all because of you and jungkook. your engagement has attracted the attention of almost every kingdom. everyone wants to be invited to the wedding, the coronation, the baby shower— they want to see it all. they want to see the fairytale dream come true!

“are you nervous?” jungkook comes up from behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he gives you a hug. you’d been watching and assisting the staff as they begin to set up the tables and clean up the garden.

“for what?” you place your hands over his, leaning into his warmth. jungkook was always warm for some reason, even if he wasn’t dressed properly for the weather. just like now, it was still morning and the sun hadn't properly risen. but he seemed to only be wearing a short sleeved shirt and the sweats you got him.

“the festival,” he answers, pulling you closer to him so that you're snug against his front. “i heard everyone is coming, and i mean like, everyone.”

a part of you is nervous, terrified really. it’s your first real, real event ever since your return. your welcome back dinner didn’t really count since it was mostly just family and close friends of the crown. then the suitor/supposed-to-be engagement party didn’t really count because you didn’t do much besides sit down, chat, and mope about jungkook. but this, this was a meeting that involved international relations. people that you haven’t seen in years, and some you haven’t even met yet. “kind of,” you shrugged. lying through your teeth.

“your mother was talking to me about how she’s gonna make you redo your etiquette training,” he informs you. you turn around, ready to argue your cause that you’ll do just fine, but you got side tracked easily.

jungkook is just so pretty. the title of prettiest prince was well deserved, because when you turned around, one look at his face was enough to make you stutter and stumble over your words. “she— she what?! when?”

“yeah, i think she will be training you for the days leading up to the festival.” he explains, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats. his morning look is unreasonably attractive. messy hair and slightly puffy face. if you could, you’d shower his face in kisses right now. realizing your stare, he smiles. “like what you see?”

you roll your eyes, “yes, my pretty prince.” you press a finger onto his chest, “you better help get me out of etiquette lessons or else.” you warn before walking back into the castle. you continue pointing to him with a direct glare as you pass the big double doors that lead back into the castle. you can only see his face break into a smile before he shrugs sarcastically.

“you’re on your own, princess!”

you’d learned that jungkook wasn’t lying about your mother wanting to redo your etiquette training. she wasn’t impressed by the way you carried yourself during your would’ve-been engagement party. so, for the past few days you’ve been balancing books on your head because she said that you slouch your back when you walk. then at dinner she would be eagle-eyed, making sure you were picking up the right utensils. she would correct your legs when you were sitting, telling you to cross at the ankles and to sit the right way.

“i can’t even breathe properly, according to her.” you groan, walking with jungkook down the hall and to the garden. another one of your mothers training sessions was about to start. she warned you not to be late or else she’d make it extra long today.

it was the day before the festival. in a few hours, it would be the welcoming dinner which is when everyone will attend. some guests had already started to arrive but your mother wasn’t satisfied by the way that you still weren’t able to walk with three books stacked atop your head. she just had to squeeze in one more etiquette class.

“at least it’s done after today,” he laughs, “then you just have to remember what you learned and make sure you’re being the most princess-y princess.”

“right,” you scoff playfully.

“___! come on! we’ve got to get started now!” your mother calls from the edge of the garden. you look at jungkook, silently pleading for him to save you before you walk down the stairs and to her.

he goes inside for a little bit; answering questions from the early arriving visitors and helping the staff put the finishing touches on everything. before he goes back outside to meet with you, he grabs some tea and a little snack for the both of you. when he comes out, you’re walking in a straight line with three books stacked on your head. they looked heavy, he wonders if it hurts.

jungkook watches from afar, smiling at the way you wobble when you walk. bottom lip stuck between your teeth in concentration. you’re just about to finish the walk when the top book falls, making the rest of the fall too.

“where has your good posture gone, my child?!” your mother giggles from the other side.

“highschool and college will do this to you, mother! this is how you know i was a good student!” you groan, picking up the books and trying it again.

you were determined, and you’d eventually get it. the second try you were able to walk back and forth the line without dropping the books. when your mother approves, you plop onto the grass beside the cobblestone. a sigh of relief coming from your mouth.

that’s my girl, jungkook almost says out loud before he realizes a presence beside him, startling him. she’d probably been standing there for a while. there was a slight grimace on her face, staring— almost glaring— your way.

“it is quite bizarre that the people want to make her queen, isn’t it? i mean, look at her,” she scowls. jungkook looks around to see if she’s talking to anyone else, but he’s the only one near. obviously, she was talking about you, she was facing your way and mentioned the fact that you’d be queen. you’re next in the line of succession, of course you’d be queen. it was dumb thing for her to say.

he turns and looks at her with a disgusted, but mostly confused expression. “she is the king's daughter— we don’t have to make her the queen, she is going to be queen, it’s in her blood.”

she’s quiet at first from the response. apparently she was expecting a different reply. jungkook doesn’t know if he’s ever met this lady. she seems just a little older than the both of you. he suspects she’s probably from here, a highborn of some noble. it’s both surprising but somehow expected. there’s been reports recently of some extremist raemorians that have spoken out against your becoming of the queen. they don’t trust you, as you’ve been gone for so long and only come back now. they see it as you’ve abandoned them, and only came back to marry jungkook, and if you were to choose, you’d rather be with the outside world than raemor.

but jungkook knows that’s not the case— he can see how much you missed the kingdom. in the way that you spend a little more time walking around than you used to. the way that you take forever when you talk to the citizens of the village. you care about raemor— not just because of jungkook or because you had to come back. but because this is your home, this is your birthplace, this is your family.

“she doesn’t behave like a princess, let alone a queen.” she rolls her eyes, breaking jungkook out of his train of thought. “if only the queen bore another child, maybe they would be more worthy of the crown.”

it was bold of her to be speaking this way about you and your family. especially to him. she had to have known that jungkook was a close friend of the crown. there are pictures and paintings of all of you around the palace, some in the city too— did she think he secretly despises you? she could not have been more wrong.

“i’m not sure who you think you’re talking to, but if you don’t want to be on the kings bad side, i suggest you keep your statements to yourself, because that girl there—” he points to you, successfully walking with four books stacked atop your head. a smile on his face before he finishes his statement, “—is my betrothed, and i will not hesitate to defend her.”

that seems to get her, and if she wanted to say more, jungkook didn’t give her the chance. he walked down the stairs and to you just after, scones on a plate in one hand and tea in the other.

“great job on the books.” he congratulates, handing the plate to you.

“thank you,” you give him a proper curtsy. “are we done now, mother? i wanna take a nap.” turning to your mother with a mouthful of food. she gives you a playful glare. you chew your food fast and swallow before asking again. “please?”

“one hour,” she tells you. “you’ve got to be up and ready before it gets dark, it's the welcome dinner tonight, you know that.”

“you got it!” you smiled, taking jungkook’s hand and dragging him back into the palace, up to your room and plopping onto your bed. a good nap is what the two of you need, especially since the two of you have been waking up at seven in the morning to help out these past few days.

the sound of the alarm on your phone blaring makes you jolt up, jungkook too. “your alarm is a bit harsh, don’t you think?” he rubs his eyes. he was right, it was the scary one, that sounded like you pressed the wrong button in a control room.

“how else am i going to wake up?” you laughed, shutting off the alarm and stretching in your bed. “time to get ready.” you sigh against your sheets, eyes fluttering closed once more.

jungkook pulls you up when he sees that you’re about to fall asleep again. “rise and shine, princess.” your body feels like jelly, you collapse against him and groan.

“protect me from the corsets, jungkook.” you plead against his chest.

“you don’t have to wear them.” he shrugs, “jieun didn’t—” and you’re sending him a glare before he can finish the sentence. “sorry.” he scratches the back of his neck.

“mother said i have to— she said it will help my posture.” you groaned. “plus, she said if i wasn’t wearing my corset for the festival— she’d find me and put it on me herself— i am not risking that.” you shake your head in fear.

“fair enough.” jungkook laughs. trying once more to get you up but you plop down again, unable to leave the comfort of your sheets.

speaking of your posture, your mother would be disappointed if she saw you right now. your spine was at an almost ninety degree angle, jungkook tries to hold you up but you keep slumping down. before you know it, your doors are being opened and the sound of your two best ladies rings in your ears. “it’s time, princess!” chaeyoung jumps onto the bed.

“we’ll take it from here, your highness.” chungha tells jungkook, and he nods, letting go of your jelly body gently and watching as you plop back down on the bed.

before jungkook leaves the room, he raises your left hand and gives a gentle kiss to your ring finger. “i’ll see you later, princess.” he smiles against your knuckle. it’s the only thing that got you to sit up, so you could look at him properly. after you bid him adieu, he makes his way back home to get ready himself. his friends are also hiding out in his room, ready to style the prince for the flower festival.

the dress you chose was beautiful, a pretty light green color that reminds you of the leaves from the flowers you were celebrating today.

they allow you to get into your undergarments and when you’re ready, they help you slide the loose corset on. it’s been five years since you last wore one. your ribs and stomach have been allowed to be free and enjoy life. but now, it’s once again being subjected to weird and unusual punishment.

chaeyoung and chungha promise that it shouldn’t hurt too bad. it’s supposed to be one of the most comfortable corsets in the market.

“just remember, take in all the air you can and then hold it, yeah?” chaeyoung explains. you nod, taking in a few more breaths before she moves behind you alongside chungha. “okay, ready, breathe!” she calls out, pulling the laces and pulling them tightly.

they were right about it being a lot more comfortable, it felt nice against your skin but it was still a corset. after some time, even the finest fabrics will feel like sandpaper.

“we’re late.” chungha points out, nodding towards the clock that reads 7:15.

“crap!” you gasped. “does it really take that long to help a girl dress up?!” they finish tightening the corset and rush to slide the gown on. they cinch the waist of the dress and tie the knots into pretty bows.

“corsets are an art, they take time,” chaeyoung says. she would know, half of her closet is corsets; she loves the hell out of them. she was studying fashion the last time you checked, you hope she still is.

you’re sitting at your vanity, digging through your jewelry box to see which pieces would look good with your dress. chungha styles your hair. she decides to go for a flowy look today, leaving your hair down and adding some texture with gentle curls before adding tiny flowers through the strands to match with your dress. you were truly raemor's crown princess with this look. chaeyoung applies your makeup, a natural look with neutral browns to fit in with the nature theme you were going with. then you were sifting through the necklaces you own, deciding on the simple gold chain and dainty gold rings. last but not least, the honorary raemor flower crown that is passed down to every princess of raemor. it’s been yours for the past twenty years. it’s never fit as perfectly as it does today.

“you are stunning, princess!” chaeyoung and chungha praise you as you stand from your vanity, giving them a little twirl, they cheer some more.

you let out a laugh, “are you ready for one of the biggest parties of the year?” raising your eyebrows.

you all let out a whoop and make your way outside of your room. allowing the three of you to calm down as you walk out and towards the ballrooms second story entrance. you and your ladies looking prim and proper as you arrive half an hour late to the celebration. you stop just in front of the door and the announcer calls out the names of your ladies first, the two of them step through the huge doors and walk down the stairs on their own.

as you let out a breath, you tell yourself that all the nervousness will go away. that you won’t tumble down the stairs and that your crown won’t fall when you bow and curtsy. when you hear the announcer call your name and the big double doors swing open for you. your breath is caught in your throat. the sight of at least a thousand people in one room; it frightens you.

it’s almost silent in the room, the only noises were quiet gasps, whispers, and the faint entrance music playing in the background. your eyes search through the room to find someone familiar, your mother, your father, your ladies, anyone! and just as you thought you were about to run away. you spot jungkook at the back of the room, in front of the open doors of the ballroom with the biggest smile on his face. he’s so handsome, his hair parted and his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo. seeing him makes your nerves wash away.

with that, you bow your head slightly and begin your descent down the stairs. you watch as jungkook snakes his way around the crowd to make it to your side when you reach the bottom of the steps. you bow once more and a round of applause breaks out into the room. multiple praises, shouts of compliments come your way and you can’t help but blush.

“you are breathtaking.” jungkook approaches you, whispering close to your ear.

“as are you,” you tell him. he smiles at you as he holds his arm out for you to hold. you greet everyone as you make it through the huge room, saying hi to people you haven’t seen since you left, to people you’ve never met before, and to people you just saw an hour ago. at the end of the line, your parents stand, proud of their beautiful daughter.

“you really are the crown princess of raemor.” your father takes you into his arms, kissing atop of your head.

your mother sneakily checks if you’re wearing a corset by giving you a hug, her arm wrapping around your waist to check for the ribs of the garment. “you’re doing amazing, my love.” she laughs, “i won’t torture you about it anymore.”

“thank you.” you groaned. laughs erupt between the two of you and she tells both you and jungkook to go and mingle. it was the best time to form stronger alliances and now since the two of you are officially engaged, everyone will want a piece of the pie. they want to know if they’ll be invited to the wedding, if they’ll be in the wedding party (even though you aren’t close to most of these people.)

and that was exactly the case when it came to the marchioness of spain. you never really knew her all that well, she doesn’t really come around very often and you’ve only ever visited spain twice in your entire life. jungkook had separated from you because the prince of france took him away for a drink with him and his buddies, leaving you with his sister: the princess of france and the marchioness. they’re apparently the best of friends.

you’re on your third fake laugh when the marchioness finally asks what you think she’s been itching to this entire conversation. “have you chosen your maid of honor yet?” she asks.

with a pained smile, you shake your head and lie through your teeth. “no, i haven’t.” of course, i have. it’s seungyeon.

she gives you a little wink, “well, i’m always open to it, you know?” you know she’s being serious by the way that she looks so hopeful about it. it made you feel kind of bad. but the maid of honor spot is meant for someone that you’re actually close to, not someone that you felt bad for. you could only give her another big, fake smile. in hopes that she’ll lay off the idea.

the princess of france butts in, “but you’re married, you can’t be a maid of honor.” she swirls her champagne around in her flute, shooting the marchioness a look.

“i can be a matron of honor.” she bites back. her eyes narrowed and a very apparent glare started to form. the two of them begin having the most intense staring contest in the world. you couldn’t even believe you were in the middle of this.

from behind you, your knight in shining armor comes just in time. jungkook coughs, getting your attention before speaking. “princess, your father has been searching for you.”

“oh—! right! i must go, ladies, my apologies.” you excuse yourself with a quick bow of your head and take hold of jungkook’s arm as he leads you away. “thank you.” you squeeze his arm gently and lean into him. “i never realized how exhausting talking to aristocrats— being that we are also.”

“well, they’re… you know—“ he laughs.

you finish his sentence for him, knowing he’s too nice to say it out loud. “annoying?”

“yes, exactly.” he laughs.

“princess!” the duchess of gotia approaches you, eunwoo’s mother. she’s known to be the mother, actually. she’s always offering to babysit the royal children. you always found it very sweet. she loves being a mother, so with her interaction, you know exactly what she’s going to say. “so…” she sing-songs. “how is it coming?” she asks, signaling towards your belly.

“uh— well," you laugh awkwardly and jungkook quickly answers for you.

“duchess, we aren’t even married yet.” he shoots down the idea immediately.

“well, if you ever need a babysitter, you know who to call!” she smiles brightly. “you have been the greatest to my eunwoo, and i would like to express my gratitude whenever you need me.”

“of course,” you nodded with a smile. “we will let you know when the time comes.” you tell her hesitantly, looking up to jungkook, only to see that his eyes have averted to looking anywhere except you.

she walks away to converse with the ladies when another pair of highborns decide to approach you. for the third time tonight, you and jungkook have maneuvered your way around and avoided the talk of an heir. how awkward was it to talk about babies when you guys haven’t even touched third base yet.

“everyone please gather! it is time for dinner!” clementine announces and you let out a sigh of relief. you and jungkook make it to your assigned table and sit down next to each other.

before anyone starts eating, the king and queen are supposed to make a speech about how thankful they are for everyone that has visited, how they hope everyone enjoys the flowers, and then wishes them well as they allow them to dig into their meal.

but the speech has gone on for quite a long time this year, your father was rambling about how this is the first flower festival with you back and how hard it’s been without you. it’s a touching speech, really, but your father always finds a way to skew the speech in a different direction; even when he doesn’t mean to. it’s been five minutes and now he’s talking about how tough of a winter it was this year and how he was afraid that the flowers were frozen and gone forever.

jungkook glances over to see you hunching your back, it looks uncomfortable, and it must be if you’re in a dress like that. multiple ties in the back and metal ribs to cinch in your waist. so he decides to help you out a little bit. sneakily, his hand moves to your back, pushing slightly. “straighten your back, love.” he whispers in your ear.

your back straightens immediately, a shiver runs down your spine as well. “thank— thank you.” the slight touch and his words make you quiver, having to take a breath to stabilize yourself and assure that you don’t start making out with him in the middle of your father’s speech.

he takes his hand away from your back swiftly, but not before he takes a quick look at the intricate lacing in the back. tightly woven for the appearance of a defined waist. “does it hurt?” jungkook visibly winces.

“just a little,” you pinch your fingers together. “but you get used to it after a while.” you shrug.

“are the laces too tight?” he asks after staring at the ties for a while. “i can tell chaeyoung,” he suggests.

you shake your head, “i’m fine— promise.”

your father finally finishes his speech with a request for everyone to raise their glass and cheers to the celebration of the flowers, thanking the higher powers for everything before telling everyone to dig in.

after dinner was when the princes and princesses would talk, in this case: jungkook (since you were too nervous to talk). for some reason, he was really nervous today. jungkook is never nervous, he’s always confident about what he’s going to say. but now it was his turn to be corrected. his leg was bouncing like crazy, the table jumps every now and then from his knee knocking it. so you place your hand atop of his thigh, gently telling him to cease the movements. it works, he pauses and stares at your hand with wide eyes. they flicker between your hand and your side profile. you stare straight, listening to your father talk (he was supposed to just introduce jungkook, but ended up making another speech) while your hand comforts his restless leg.

jungkook tries to keep it under control, but your hand is inches away from his groin, and he tries to deny the blush that rushes over his face.

his hand covers yours and gives you a gentle squeeze. it makes you turn to look at him, a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. a straight face with eyes that wander, stern but mischievous at the same time.

he pulls your hand off of his leg and redirects it to your lap, giving you a little smile before letting his hand ghost the skin of your exposed thigh. the slit on your dress is unhelpful when it comes to modesty and trying to be subtle about how you feel towards jungkook, both emotionally and sexually. a slight touch from jungkook topples the dominoes. goosebumps raise on your arms, your breath is caught in your throat, and now suddenly, your core is a lot warmer than before.

your father continues to ramble about the history of the soil and how every flower and plant can grow on the grounds of raemor. jungkook’s hand is still on your lap. you’ve calmed down now, the urge to pounce on him has subdued to just wanting to kiss him right now. he’s gorgeous, as always. a perfect side profile, hair styled so prettily, and his skin so soft against yours.

“and to keep the night going, a word from our prince, jungkook!” your father finally announces.

you plant a kiss on his cheek before he gets up, “good luck.” you whisper in his ear and he gives you a bright smile before he makes his way up to the stage.

after the welcome applause dies down, jungkook taps the microphone and introduces himself as if no one in the room knew him. then he goes on about how lucky he is to be living a life like this. how privileged he and everyone in the room is. and how excited he is for the future of raemor and the world. he ends the speech with a sweet shout out to you. “and as we are here celebrating the best blooms of raemor, i’d like to thank the prettiest flower, our princess ___, for being my best friend and my fiancée— now let us party!”

you blush. your hands covering your face because of how cute it was. jungkook received a loud applause, credited to his friends who whoop and shout as he comes down the stage. once he comes back to the table, he gives you a big kiss and the two of you laugh at how cheesy his ending sentence was.

the party starts up once more, the mc’s orchestrate the music and multiple people join, waltzing and turning upon the shiny ballroom floor. jungkook wants to dance with you. so he lifts his hand from your lap to ask for a dance.

jungkook knows you don’t exactly like dancing, but you always take the chance to dance with him whenever it’s given to you. plus, with this dress, how could you not groove and twirl around?

a dance sounds so innocent, the gentle movements of ballroom dancing and the easy one, two steps. but jungkook is a pro, despite your novice skills, he lets you step out of your comfort zone. trying dips and lifts with you. the slight touches against your hips, your waist, and down your arms. you had no idea how to exactly explain it, but you felt something burn inside of you.

when jungkook pulls you in for another twirl, his hand ever so slightly grazes just underneath your breast, his thumb running over the clothed skin. you jolt back abruptly and jungkook is startled. pulling his hands down to yours immediately. “is everything alright, princess? would you like to take a break?”

you nod, “please.” you let go of his hands and walk off the dance floor. jungkook is hot on your heels as you head to your table to get a drink of water. soon, the burn from deep inside begins to travel. your face began to burn up, your fingertips, and your skin. suddenly, your corset was way too tight, your shoes were a size too small, the crown on your head felt like thorns— everything was bothering you. you knew it was because you wanted jungkook so bad.

“is there anything i can get you?” he comes up behind you. a hand gently caresses your arm. his touch is hot. it was so hard to control these feelings. love was hard enough, but now lust clouds your view.

“i’m— i’m fine,” you take another sip of your water. “i just need to sit down.”

he sits down with you, worry encompassing his face. “are you sure everything is okay? is it your dress? i can call one of your ladies to help.”

you shake your head, “i’m fine.” reassuring him that it was okay, it’s just that incredulous, incessant burn.

“alright.” jungkook nods. “i won’t leave your side, just let me know if you need anything.” he tells you, and you nod. thanking him even though you knew if you wanted to keep this abstinence promise, you were gonna need to be as far away from him as possible.

you try to spend the next ten minutes calming down, but with jungkook sitting in front of you, conversing with other princes and highborn from his seat— he looks too good. he’s leaning back, arm around the empty chair next to him, his body is still facing you but his face is turned to talk to his friends that are at the next table. it just makes him look even hotter. if that was even possible. the promise that he wouldn’t leave your side made you melt, and it’s only contributing to the problem between your thighs. you cross your legs and squeeze, trying to relieve some of the ache but it doesn’t work. you need to leave now or you need jungkook to help ease this tension.

and there was nothing wrong with asking for it.

“actually— jungkook,” you sit up. taking his attention away from yugyeom who sat at the table behind him, showing him something on his phone. “can you help me? the lacing on my corset is starting to become unbearable.”

he stands up immediately, holding his hand up for you to hold as you get up from your seat. “oh— sure, princess, let me get chae—“

“no! it’s okay— could you just help me to my room?” you interrupt him, a sweet look on your face. your intentions are quite evil, and you wonder if he can see right through you. “please?”

“of course, princess.” he agrees. excusing himself from the conversation with yugyeom. his arm is out for you to hold, and you take it gleefully.

you weave through the massive ball room to get to your parents table, tapping your mother on her shoulder to inform her. “i’ll be taking a break in my room with jungkook.” she nods and laughs, clearly not paying attention to whatever you were saying because her friends were telling her about a trip they had in bali.

so the two of you make it up the stairs, down the main hall and to your room. you let yourselves in and lock the door behind you. “oh— thank god,” you sighed. jungkook was already on your bed, back against your comforter and eyes straight to the ceiling.

“suffocating conversations and a device around your waist that basically chokes you, are you a sadist or something?” jungkook jokes, laying on his side with his head resting against his hand.

“i don’t take pleasure in making people cry, jungkook.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “i think the word you’re looking for is masochist.” taking off your heels, you make your way to your bed and jungkook makes some space for you. you groan as you plop down onto the bed. in the minute that you’re laying down, jungkook takes the liberty to put something on the tv and dim the lights a little. as the movie plays in the background, you lay there on your stomach, arms feeling like jelly as you try to untie the laces of your corset by yourself.

jungkook watches as you flail your arms. stifling a laugh, he asks, “do you need help, princess?”

“yes, please.” you pout.

“okay, i’ll call your ladies and—"

“jungkook, you’re already here— do you want to try? i can talk you through it.” you sit up, looking him in the eye.

jungkook tries to hide the way that his eyes almost bulge out of his head. gulping, he asks, “are— are you sure you want me to help? i can get them up here quickly.”

“please?” you ask him sweetly. you can see that he’s eager, that he is willing; but you know he’s too much of a gentleman to admit something like that. especially in this abstinence period the two of you are having now. so you shrug a little bit, “unless you don’t want to, then i can go find them myself, it’s no problem.”

he lets out a shaky breath. jungkook isn’t sure how to explain why he’s worried. the thought of helping you out of a corset is intimate. he’s had many, many dreams about it. so you asking him, leads him straight into a trap. one that the two of you have been avoiding ever since you first kissed.

but you’re asking so nicely, the sweetest look in your eyes that he knows has to be intertwined with evil. because why else would you be asking your best friend— soon to be husband— to undo the ties of your corset?

he’s thought about it for all too long now. to the point where he just thinks, fuck it. so he nods. “i’ll help you.”

“are you sure?” you tilt your head. he only comes closer, nodding his head as you scoot back a little bit, so that you’re closer as well. out of habit, his hands move to your waist automatically. you have to take a slight breath to calm yourself down before continuing. “okay,” you mentally prepare yourself. “untie this first,” placing your hand where the dress holds itself together. he pulls the silk bow apart easily, and the material of your dress falls. leaving the corset laces out and ready to be loosened. you point to the bow just at the middle of your back, “then pull this apart.”

the string is pulled and the knot is undone successfully. jungkook looks at you through the mirror in front of you. the moment is something you’d find in a romance movie. the dim lighting is inherently sensual, and the volume of the tv fades into the back as the two of you only focus on eachother. the mirror compels the two of you to make eye contact every now and then. jungkook successfully unties the very professional bow chaeyoung tied and looks to you again for reassurance. you give him a soft smile and a quick nod.

with that, he asks. “what now?” he’s a little closer than he was earlier. that familiar feeling between your legs starts up once again. you try to hide it, shifting your weight every now and then, squeezing your thighs together.

jungkook doesn’t say anything, but he notices.

“pull the strings here,” you cough. you bring your hands up to hold his, bringing them to the laces. “to loosen them.”

he nods, swiftly going through with your instructions. jungkook can feel the heat radiating off of your body, he can also see the way that your cheeks are turning pink and how warm your hand was against his. to comfortably pull the laces, he lifts your hair and brings it to your front. his fingers ever so slightly brushing against your neck; the slight touch making you lean your head as if he were diving in to kiss it. jungkook can see that too, it makes him smile. the pure want that radiates off of you matches the passion he’s been trying his hardest to bury.

pulling gently on the strings and watching as they tug apart, the integrity of your corset deteriorates as the strings pull further away. your bare back begins to show. your hand moves to the front of the corset, holding it close to your chest and (barely) trying to keep everything modest.

“should i keep going?” jungkook whispers in your ear, entirely too close for comfort but it feels so nice. his voice is so smooth, it goes straight to your core, only adding to the intense warmth. his question was a double edged sword. asking if he should keep unlacing your corset and at the same time, keep going with this. “do you want to?” he adds.

“yes,” you nod. a look in the mirror shows you a different jungkook, one that is filled with desire.

instead of pulling that last lace to completely deem your corset useless, he catches you off guard, sitting straight and undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. your eyes almost bulge out of your head when he takes his shirt off, his bare chest out for you to see. it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but in the moment, you can’t help but stare.

he covers your shoulders with the shirt, making sure the front of the shirt covers your chest before he pulls out the last knot. in turn, the top becomes loose and falls forward into your grasp. the feeling of the cold air against your warm skin makes goosebumps rise. jungkook’s shirt is the only thing keeping you from full-on flashing him with your breasts. you hold the shirt closed with your hand as you let the rest of the dress fall off of your body, you gently kick it to the side and leave it on the floor beside your bed. putting his shirt on properly, the cold silk brushes against your arms.

when you turn around, jungkook is further than he was. no longer was he close enough to whisper in your ear and make your shiver from his lips ghosting your neck. he’s now sitting with his back against the headboard and he’s staring. he sees how pretty you look in his shirt and that your legs are clad, only in the black underwear you were wearing. he tried his best not to stare. when he realized that you caught him, he changed his focus back onto the tv. he clears his throat, “comfortable now?”

you hum, “very.” he looks so delectable, your multicolored lights don’t help your hunger; the lights reflect off of him in the prettiest way. his legs are parted just enough, and you can imagine how it would feel if you sat between them. “can i sit with you?” you ask, a devilish idea sprouting in your mind.

“of course,“ he nods, “c’mere, princess.” patting the spot next to him. you have other plans, crawling into the space between his legs. jungkook doesn’t protest, rather, just a surprised look on his face when you rest your back on his front and sit yourself flush against him.

“is this okay?” you asked, turning back to look at him.

he nods, gulping. “yeah— yeah, of course.”

jungkook forces his eyes not to stray just below him, where the valley of your breasts is exposed because you didn’t bother to button the shirt up all the way. his eyes try to stay focused on the avengers saving the world, but from his peripheral vision, he can see the way that his shirt barely clings onto your breasts. if you were to move an inch, the shirt would slip easily.

on your end; jungkook is taking too long. you thought he would have made a move by now. his bold words and actions earlier when he was undoing your corset had your expectations high, but now it looks like he’s actually focused on the infinity stones. you shift a little against him, making the hand that was resting on his leg fall onto you. he pulls back immediately, as if he’d burned himself on your skin. “sorry,” he flushes.

you laugh, “it’s okay.”

as always, jungkook is too much of a gentleman to speak his dirty mind. every few minutes or so, you can sense his eyes changing their focus from the tv to the gap in his shirt you’re wearing. the little glimpse of your cleavage is enough to make his face flush and his dick start to stiffen. “fuck,” he whispers to himself.

“hm?” you turn your head to look at him. the devil on your shoulder telling you to kiss him and tease him. when he makes eye contact with you, you spot his bottom lip between his teeth.

“don’t do this to me, princess.” he practically begs, on his last thread of self control when you turn a little more. the shirt shifting and revealing more. “i’m afraid i can’t hold back any longer.”

giving him a gentle kiss against his jaw with a smirk on your lips before you say, “then don’t.”

he sighs, leaning his head back against the headboard. “you—“ he starts, lifting his head back up after he’s gotten his thoughts in order. “princess, don’t you want to wait?”

“do you still want to wait?” you ask him, sitting up and covering yourself in a quick haste. jungkook is silent. if he was honest, he was scared. he didn’t really know why, but he just felt like he would mess it up somehow. plus, waiting for the right time wasn’t so bad, despite him wanting to devour you right now, he’s a man of self control. he won’t push anything you don’t want. patience is a virtue, he tells himself. so he gulps, not saying anything, just staring back at you.

he takes too long to answer, and it just makes you more insecure. you can’t even look at him straight in the eye anymore, afraid you humiliated yourself in front of your best friend. you start buttoning up the top as you speak, “i’m sorry— i just… didn’t want to wait anymore.”

and in that moment, jungkook says fuck patience.

reaching out to stop your hands from doing another button. your eyes shoot up, making eye contact with him. “i’m sorry, princess— i didn’t know.”

“wasn’t it obvious by the way i’m throwing myself at you right now?” you giggled which in turn makes jungkook laugh as well.

but the energy in the room is far from family friendly, the laughs that leave jungkook make him even more delectable. he has that lazy smile on again. he raises his hand from your buttons to your face, gently rubbing your cheek before he dives in for a kiss. one that leads the two of you into a great deal of swapping spit.

he smiles against your lips, “i just needed to hear you say it.” his other hand snakes under the shirt, placing it on your lower back and pulling you close. jungkook’s bare chest against your silk covered one. sneakily, using his other hand to unbutton the ones you’ve done up.

you look up and beg him with your eyes to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs. “please,” you nod.

he tsks, shaking his head. “need you to tell me what you want, my love.” his hands continue to roam under the silk shirt, you can feel the way they inch closer and closer to your breasts.

“i— i want you to touch me.” you tell him.

he hums. accepting your request. gently pulling the garment away from your chest, your breasts out for him to cherish. he takes his time admiring them before bringing his warm hands and running them over your stiff buds. enveloping you in a messy kiss as he continues. the cold metal of his gold signet ring is a stark contrast to the warmth of your bodies, it makes you shiver and groan against jungkook’s lips. feeling so sensitive and so ready. it was embarrassing for you to admit that you were so wet, the anticipation has you dripping. “like this?” he continues to play with your breasts. paying close attention to your nipples because he loves the way that you react when he adds a little pressure.

“more,” you plead, breaking the kiss. “please— jungkook.”

he lets out a little laugh at your willingness. his hands move to your back, giving you another kiss before repositioning the two of you and gently laying you against the pillows. he presses another kiss on your lips before moving down, kissing your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck. further down to your collarbone, between your breasts, and then deciding to give love to both of your nipples.

it makes you giggle, in turn making him smile against your skin. you always thought that something like this between you and jungkook would be way too awkward, no matter how many times you’ve thought and dreamed about it— you’ve never thought of it being so… natural with him.

you aren’t allowed to be in your thoughts long before he allows his mouth to latch onto your nipple, sucking lightly and running the tip of his tongue against the bud. making you whimper and instinctively running your hands through his hair. “fuck— jungkook, more, please— please.”

“are you sure, princess?” he brings his head up, making eye contact with you. he looks so pretty. it’s unbelievable really. messy hair, red lips, and cheeks ever so slightly tinted pink.

“absolutely,” you tell him.

before he goes any further, he moves back up to give you another kiss. “i love you,” professing his love with another gentle kiss that makes you feel surrounded by angels and clouds.

“i love you,” you smile. “are you sure you want to do this?”

“you don’t know how much i want this, princess.” he tells you, hinting at his dirty thoughts. you weren’t alone in your pining. you almost laugh, but jungkook cut to the chase, kissing down your body once more and making it to the waistband of your lace underwear. your legs accommodate him, spreading them apart once he dips low enough. “so pretty.” jungkook comments, running his finger over the material of your underwear, making you shiver. he likes watching the way you react to his actions.

“picked it out myself.” you pride yourself in your choice of intimate wear.

jungkook lets out a little laugh, “it’s no shock that the crown princess has great taste.” he teases, running his finger under the lace now. placing kisses on your inner thighs, making you drip in anticipation. his lips gently make his way between your thighs, placing a kiss on your clothed clit. it makes you keen, arching your back slightly.

“oh— jungkook.” you lightly gasp, only egging jungkook on more.

“i was going to tease you some more, but i can’t wait.” he says, thinking out loud. "you just look and sound so delectable." his fingers tug the lace down and off of your legs to reveal your glistening core. his mouth waters at the sight of it and his dick throbs at the thought of making love to you. “fuck, princess—“ he groans, dipping down and waiting no time.

placing a kiss to your clit, he makes those pretty, soft gasps spill from your mouth. you watch from above, his hands on either thigh, pulling them apart and savoring what’s in between. you don’t think you’ve ever been more turned on in your life.

jungkook’s tongue works wonders. savoring your taste as he dips into your hole before sucking your bud gently, making you moan out loud. no one could hear you anyway; with the loud music, the big room, and the distance from the party— you were allowed to be as loud as you’d like.

“fuck, that feels so good.” you mumble, your hands moving to run through the strands of his hair again as you close your eyes and reel in the pleasure.

“yeah, my love?” he asks, pulling his mouth away to watch as your other hand instinctively goes to your breast, playing with your nipple for extra stimulation. watching you enjoy yourself, it makes him drool. in turn, he places his thumb on your clit, using the excess wetness to glide sleek circles against the sensitive mound.

that’s when you start to feel your ears heat up. your eyes open to see jungkook staring, your confidence skyrockets. jungkook looks like he wants to devour you, and without a doubt, you’d let him. you lean up on your elbows to watch him at a better angle, in turn, making your legs spread further apart. “oh—!” you gasp, your eyebrows slightly scrunched together in pleasure.

“you’re so pretty.” he smiles, dipping his middle finger into you. watching as your face contorted in pleasure once more. “could spend forever between your legs.”

always the romantic. you smiled at the saying. “you look very dashing down there.” complimenting him as he continues to egg your high closer and closer.

“you think so?” he flashes that lazy smile once again, somehow making a gush of liquid pour all over jungkook’s fingers. in turn making him groan at the sight, he dives in soon after— cleaning you right up.

the consistent pumps of his finger and the languid licks all combined to create that knot in your stomach. jungkook can tell when you’re close, the tiny gasps you let out and the way your legs twitch are a clear indicator that he’s doing a great job.

“gonna cum, my love?” he asks, making eye contact with you.

you nod, “so close.”

the closer you got, the wetter you were, and the sloppier it was— your thighs were twitching and your body was moving to the beat of your own drum. jungkook loved the sight. you, enjoying this intimate interaction, it’s been on his mind for years and now he’s able to watch it— make it happen— in real time.

you felt that knot being pulled tighter and tighter until finally, it snaps. “oh— oh, jungkook!” you gasp, running your fingers through his hair and coincidentally keeping him where he was so you could properly ride out your orgasm. jungkook didn’t mind, you tasted like a sweet treat on a summer's day. there’s nothing else he could have wished for on this beautiful night.

until you come down from your high. your face flushed with sweat beginning to bead at your hairline, you ask him a question that almost makes him pass out. “what about you?” you said it so quietly. it could have been missed if jungkook wasn’t paying attention.

he could cum just by the thought of it. and the thought of him busting within five seconds of doing anything with you, makes him super nervous. so he smiles, “don’t worry about me, princess.” he assures you. “i probably won't last long anyways.” telling the absolute truth.

you rolled your eyes. sitting up and making your way towards him, placing your hand on his face before you give him a gentle kiss on the lips. “can i?”

“what?”

“make you cum?”

jungkook swallows his spit. nodding immediately, "s—sure." you smile at his willingness. now it was your turn to please. jungkook moves first, reconnecting your lips and pulling you close, as close as he can.

“i love you.” you tell him between kisses. you can feel his smile against your lips.

“i love you.” he tells you, pulling away and making sure to look you in the eye. he reassures you again, hoping that you’re not just doing this because he did it. “you don’t have to—“

“i want to.” you cut him off quickly. planting another kiss on his lips before turning the two of you around, you gently push him down to where you were laying and let the fun begin. jungkook watches intently as you kiss down his body, his shirtless torso deserves all the kisses and praise in the world. “did you win an award for the best body in all of the kingdoms too?” you teased.

he rolls his eyes. “that’s not even a category.”

as you get to his lower stomach, you place a kiss where his belly button is and sit up. “you’d win anyway.” you laughed, tugging at his belt buckle to unravel it.

jungkook helps when you finally get the buckle off, sliding down his pants after you’ve unbuttoned and unzipped. leaving him in only his boxers. right about now, you realized that this is the most you’ve ever seen of jungkook. the second you pull that piece of clothing down, it’s whole new territory. you have no idea why you’re thinking about this now— jungkook has now seen every inch of you, and you are about to do the same.

“princess? you don’t have to do this.” jungkook speaks up after noticing you waver.

but you shake your head. “i was just thinking about how long it took for us to get here.” gently dragging a finger up and down his body, it makes him shiver. “i really am happy that we’re engaged to be married.”

“me too, my love.” jungkook smiles at you.

always so pretty, even when you’re about to do something so filthy. he can’t not kiss you, so he gives you a quick smooch before. you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather spend your life with. he deserves the best blowjob in the world. and you’re gonna try to give it to him.

pulling down his boxers, his dick lays heavy and hard against his stomach.

he’s huge.

your eyes bulge at the sight— it’s even pretty like he is. pink tip and a long, thick shaft. it’s literally impossible how perfect this man is.

dipping down, your tongue sticks out and gives one good, long lick against him. making him breathe out and furrow his brows. taking hold of him, you place your mouth over his tip and gently begin to suck. watching as jungkook throws his head against the pillows. “fuck, princess.” he groans.

jungkook doesn’t look away for too long, needing to watch as you treat him. gathering up some spit, you let it drool down your tongue and onto his cock, making sure he has a nice view of the glob traveling down his shaft. just before it touches the base, your hands collect the spit and slowly begin to jerk him off.

“holy— what the fuck,” jungkook gasps. his thighs slightly twitching next to you as you continue to pump and gently suck his tip. “how— fuck, that’s so good, princess.”

closing your eyes, you brace yourself as you try to take most of him into your mouth. you could only do so much before gagging, tears beginning to build in your eyes.

“don’t force yourself, my love.” jungkook tells you as he lifts your mouth off slightly, placing his hand on your cheek. a tear falls onto your face and he catches it quickly, wiping it off with his thumb. “i hate to see you cry.”

he’s always so sweet. it makes you wanna please him more. his reactions are egging you, you want to see more, to hear more. so you nod, continuing what you were doing earlier. in turn, you get what you want— groans and gasps leaving his mouth that seemingly sound like a melody. his teeth every now and then biting into his lower lip to control his noises. but to no avail, you always do something to make him moan.

meanwhile, you could feel yourself dripping again— jungkook turns you on like no other. the noises and just how he looks, you were ready for another round. “slow down, princess— i might cum.” jungkook warns. you smile against him, pulling yourself off but continuing to pump consistently.

“that’s the point, right?” you cocked your head to the side and begin raining kisses all over his cock.

“princess—" he groans. his eyebrows furrowed. he looks so hot. pleasure taking over his features entirely. “let me kiss you.” he demands, pulling your face towards his as he indulges the two of you in the messiest kiss you’ve ever been involved in. “fuck— i’m gonna cum.” he pulls away from the kiss first to let you know. you look at him and his lips are red and swollen, covered in a sheen from a mix of both of your saliva. you’re still gliding your hand up and down his spit covered cock. jungkook places his hand over yours and quickens the pace slightly. his eyes threatening to squeeze shut as the two of you work together to bring him to his own high. his hair flopping and sweaty near the roots. you can’t help but kiss him. your lips travelling everywhere. his face, his neck, and his ears. “princess, where can i—?”

“in my mouth?” you answered quickly.

jungkook bites his lip, trying to tell himself to be more of a gentleman— but that’s so hot. you think it’s hot too. and jungkook can see that face you’re making, that one that you make when you’re about to ask for something you want. so jungkook gives in to the guilty pleasure.

while jungkook was thinking to himself, you took it upon yourself to dip back down. your lips wrapping around his tip and letting your tongue run along his slit. your hand continues to pump with his and jungkook can’t hold back any longer. “fuck, princess, i love you.” he says once again before he blows his load.

you feel warmth flood your mouth. the slightly salty taste staining your tongue. you clean him up diligently before you sit up, swallowing everything you had in your mouth. jungkook groans at the sight of you. “did i do well?” you wondered out loud, opening your mouth and showing proof that you’ve swallowed it all. the image before his eyes is one that he never hopes to forget. he’ll probably be thinking about it for the next six months, and have a boner that never goes down during those months.

“come here, my love.” he beckons you over, a fucked-out smile on his face. without a second to waste, you climb into his arms. his hands automatically meet your cheeks, his thumb gently running over your bottom lip. “you are majestic,” he compliments. you smile, kissing his thumb. “was that okay?” jungkook asks. eyes desperate to meet yours to make sure that there aren't any second thoughts flooding your mind.

“jungkook.” you deadpan. scaring him. “that was the hottest thing i’ve ever experienced in my life.” you grinned, letting jungkook exhale that breath he sucked in. “so when can we do it again?” you laughed.

jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing along with you. “let’s talk about it after we cleaned up, yeah?” dipping down to give you a kiss before retrieving his boxers and putting them on.

you nod, “sure.”

he gets up from bed and holds his hand out for you to hold. the two of you make your way to the bathroom and clean up, making it seem like nothing ever happened! jungkook plants kisses all over you face. the two of you in a cloud of love as you laid back in bed, rewinding and finishing the movie.

every now and then you would push forward and place a kiss onto jungkook nose, making him smile before he did the same to you. he tucks the hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear. “was that really okay for you?” he asks.

“yes.” you nod, assuring him this is something you want. you’ve never been more sure of something. “what about you?”

“i couldn’t have dreamed of anything better, my love.” he smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead.

the two of you lay in the thick cloud of love made by yours truly. only giggles and sweet words float around in there. three knocks make you and jungkook jolt up from the pillows and away from your love cloud. “uh— princess? are you awake?” you can hear blue through the door.

“yes! is everything alright?” you shout, hoping that he hears you through the thick door

“the royal family of xezia is here, your mother is asking for you to come down and greet them.” he informs you.

“oh— sure, i will be right there! give me five minutes.” you tell him, jumping up rushing to get dressed. jungkook hurries to do your corset as best as he can and helps slide your dress on.

“and if you know where prince jungkook is, please let him know that they would like to see him as well.” blue adds on.

your eyes meet with jungkooks and the both of you can’t help but laugh. “sure, blue, i’ll let him know— thank you!” he finished tying the knot on your dress and proceeded to put his clothes on as you moved to your vanity; spraying perfume, fixing your hair, and makeup. making sure that all evidence of sex is rid of.

both you and jungkook had a game plan for the rest of the night: act like nothing happened, greet the xezia family, bid everyone goodnight, and then rendezvous at his castle in his room.

by the time you’ve already greeted the family of xezia and walked around to say goodnight, you were exhausted. who knew how much walking was expected of a princess?

taking a seat at your chair in the front of the ball room, you watch as everyone continues to mingle before they leave to head off to sleep for the night. jungkook is off talking to his friends in the far corner of the room and you sit alone with a glass of water, trying your best not to make it obvious that you just got the best head you’ve ever received just thirty minutes ago.

you spot chaeyoung walking your way and you invite her to take a seat next to you. the two of you gossip and talk about the party, if she had fun, etc. etc.

just as she excuses herself to head to her bed chambers, she turns around, remembering to tell you something. “by the way— not that anyone else noticed, but your bows are uneven.” she whispers in your ear.

your eyes are wide when she pulls away, making her laugh out loud. loud enough for the entire ball room to hear as her chuckles echo. you facepalm yourself before asking, “it’s not that bad, right?”

“well… you can definitely tell a man did it.”

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts #bangtan #bangtan fic #as long as the flowers still grow #jjk #jjk drabble #jungkook x you

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