Jungkook X Oc - Blog Posts

Destined Through Centuries ⇌ KTH & JJK three

★ synopsis :: They say, life isn't a fairytale and it's the truth. When fate brings the four souls close to their soulmates, they only want to be happy till the end. But is it in their fate to be happy till the end? Will it be a happy ending for them?

★ pairings :: jungkook x idhika (fem!reader) & taehyung x anvi (fem!reader)

★ genre :: historical au, modern au, s2l, f2l, non-idol au, fluff and angst.

★ rating :: 18+

★ warning :: kissing, Jungkook being rude to a servant again.

★ notes :: enjoying writing this so far. hope all of you like it too. feedback is always appreciated. <3

1825, Chandralaya Kingdom

Anvi sighs in distress as Idhika keeps whining to her to see the painting she just completed a few days ago. They walk into Anvi’s art chamber, Idhika looking around when her eyes fall on the easel placed on the corner of the room, a thin veil covering the canvas. Idhika finally lets go of Anvi’s hand, her voice filled with excitement as she asks, “Is that the painting?”

Anvi hums, walking over to it. She carefully removes the veil, neatly folding it and keeping it away. Idhika gasps, her eyes widening as she takes in the details of the portrait. “Oh my god, this is magnificent. This doesn't even look like a painting. You two look so real.”

Anvi smiles proudly but it falters as soon as the younger princess says, “I didn't know your painting skills were this good. I mean I knew you were a great painter but– ow!” she yelps as Anvi smacks her shoulder, glaring at her sharply. Idhika rubs her shoulder, lower lip jutting out in a pout, “Alright, I'm sorry. This was expected.”

Anvi crosses her arms over her chest, side-eyeing, “Better.” Idhika huffs, her attention back onto the painting. She's in awe as she takes in all the details of the painting, whether it's the perfect facial features or the clothing, everything's just perfect and smooth. Anvi surely is a great painter.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ🍂

Anvi smiles, looking at herself in the mirror before her as the maids get her ready. It's finally King Min-gyeol’s birthday banquet and they'll be leaving for Korea soon. Anvi turns to look at the door when Idhika enters, wearing a pale blue gown with puffed sleeves. The fabric of the gown is decorated with delicate lace and floral patterns. A sheer, white shawl delicately wrapped around her wrists, her long, silky hair left open, jewelleries decorating her ears and neck. Anvi smiles fondly when she sees how beautiful her sister is looking, “You look breathtaking, Idhi.”

Idhika chuckles, moving to stand beside Anvi's seated figure, her eyes raking over Anvi's figure. Anvi is wearing a cream colored gown which is elegant and classy. The low neckline of the dress is decorated with lace ruffles and the sleeves go just below the elbows and are also decorated with lace. A tiny bow is placed on the waist and the bottom of the gown is decorated with layers and ruffles. Just like Idhika, Anvi's long, wavy hair is left open, her ears and neck adorned with jewelleries.

Idhika pats Anvi's shoulder, leaning down slightly to whisper in her ear, “You look just as beautiful, didi. Taehyung probably wouldn't be able to take his eyes off you today.” Anvi's eyes widen and she glares at her, motioning with her eyes that the maids are around them, even though they're completely unaware about the sisters' conversation, just doing their work. Idhika chuckles, mouthing to her, “They won't notice.”

Anvi sighs, regretting not being more careful with her relationship because Idhika is only talking about it all the time.

1825, Syndril Kingdom

The carriage stops in front of the huge gates of the magnificent palace standing tall and proud. Anvi looks out of the carriage window, so does Idhika but Anvi's heart is beating faster than Idhika. There's an unexplainable excitement in Anvi and she's trying hard not to smile.

They step out of the carriage, looking at the palace before them. It's beautifully decorated with various decorative items. The two princesses follow their parents as they walk across the large garden. A lot of guests are roaming around in the garden and talking to each other while royals from other kingdoms are entering along with them in the palace.

All of the royals are guided to the banquet hall. The interior is simply majestic. Large paintings and gold details are decorating the walls while beautiful chandeliers are hanging down the tall ceiling, shining brightly. The floor is made of the finest marbles, soft and shiny, rich, soft carpets placed on it. Except for that, every corner is decorated with fancy items and flowers.

Anvi looks around, excitement bubbling inside her as she thinks about finally seeing Taehyung after so long. They sit on luxurious, soft sofas, their parents chatting with the other royals.

Anvi sighs, her hands clasped together and resting on her lap as she looks around everywhere. Idhika notices her elder sister's impatience and chuckles, about to make a remark when she notices the man her sister is desperately looking for. She nudges Anvi's shoulder, a little too excited, maybe more than her sister even.

Anvi turns to face her, an annoyed expression on her face as she asks, “What?” Idhika looks in a specific direction, muttering to Anvi, “There's your prince charming.” Anvi turns her head rapidly towards the direction Idhika was looking at, and indeed Taehyung's standing there all in his glory, talking to a royal.

Anvi's heart leaps into her chest and she tries not to squeal there. She mutters, still staring at him, “Why is he not looking at me?” idhika shakes her head, a teasing smile on her lips, “You're too impatient.” Anvi smirks suddenly, teasing her back, “You wouldn't understand, because you have no one to get excited over, right?”

Idhika looks at Anvi blankly, lightly hitting her on shoulder, “Don't be like that. I'm still young.” Anvi rolls her eyes, “You're not that young, idhi.”

Idhika whines a little and mutters, “Stop it, di. Just focus on your prince charming now. We'll think about me later.” Anvi laughs, turning her attention back to Taehyung. Just then, Taehyung’s eyes scan the whole hall, suddenly locking with Anvi's. His blank eyes suddenly shine, adoration swimming in those deep ocean eyes when they land on the love of his life.

He halts in the middle of the conversation, his eyes glued to Anvi. A small, loving smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he nods at Anvi. He composes himself, turning his attention back to the man beside him before resuming the conversation. Even though he's conversing with the man beside him, he's unable to focus on it. All he can think of is now Anvi, his mind is only on her. At this point his heart is beating so fast that he's afraid it'll come out.

Throughout the whole dinner, they exchange glances and smiles secretly as they eat their meals. After the dinner is over, all the nobles move to the ballroom.

As Anvi and Idhika walk behind their parents, following them to the ballroom, Anvi feels a gentle tug on her wrist. She looks in the direction with a frown, her eyes widening slightly when she sees it's Taehyung. With a smile, Taehyung takes her away from there. Idhika raises her eyebrow at the scene she just witnessed, nodding her head at herself playfully as she follows her parents.

Anvi gasps as Taehyung takes her to his chamber, closing the door behind them. She whispers, “What are you doing? What if someone sees–” Taehyung cuts herself off, pressing his slender finger on her lips, pressing her against the wall.

“Shh, you talk too much, princess. This is the first time you see me after almost a year and this is the first thing you say to me? This is not right.” Taehyung whispers, his voice deep. Anvi breathes out, her cheeks heating up slightly at how close they're.

She swats his hand away gently, looking up at him, muttering softly, “Stop being so dramatic. Also Idhika knows about us now. She barged into my chamber when I was about to read your letter.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow in amusement, letting out a chuckle to which Anvi narrows her eyes at him, “What's so funny, Your majesty?”

Taehyung shakes his head, a small smile still on his face, “Nothing, just imagining her reaction, sweetheart.” Anvi sighs, shaking her head, “She was so surprised. She's still talking about it and teasing me all the time.”

Taehyung laughs, a deep and melodious sound which melts Anvi as she stares up at him. Her hand slowly moves up to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as she murmurs, “You seem to be in a really good mood. Did anything happen?”

Taehyung looks down at her, his finger tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he says softly, “Yeah, I'm in a good mood because you came. I missed you so much.”

Anvi smiles, her fingers gently running up to caress his jaw, eyes locked with his, “I missed you so much too. I was so excited to see you.”

Taehyung chuckles, playing with a strand of her hair with his fingers, “Me too, couldn't wait to see you. You look so gorgeous tonight by the way.”

Anvi smirks, pulling him a bit closer, whispering softly, “You don't look too bad yourself, Your majesty.” Taehyung smirks too, his free hand wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, if that's even possible. He looks down at her, his thumb running over her cheek, “Expected a better compliment than that, but alright, that will work too.”

Anvi scoffs, her hands resting on his chest, “As if your compliment was so good.” Taehyung chuckles at her remark, musing softly, “You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes and you know that, sweetheart, don't you? The most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on.”

Anvi rolls her eyes but she can't help but smile, “Alright, don't need to compliment me anymore.” Taehyung laughs again, tilting her chin up slightly as he leans in.

Anvi's breath hitches as he leans in, brushing his lips with her. Her eyes fall shut, fingers tightening on his royal coat when he presses his lips to her. The kiss is slow and deep, filled with love and longing as he pours his everything into the kiss.

Anvi kisses him back just as deeply, moving her lips against his slowly, her heart beating so loudly that she's afraid he can hear. He gently cups her cheek, pressing her more against the wall, tilting her head back, kissing her passionately.

Finally after what feels like an eternity, they break the kiss, softly panting against each other's mouths. He presses his forehead against her, muttering, his voice warm, “I love you so much, Anvi.”

Anvi's heart flutters in her chest, her eyes locking with his. She leans in, pressing a soft peck on his lips before whispering, “I love you so much too, Taehyung.”

As they're back to the ballroom, they can't take eyes off each other, secretly smiling at each other.

Anvi sits with her family as a few couples dance, watching them while bearing her sister's constant teasing and remarks on how her lips look a bit swollen and whatsoever. She sighs, massaging her temple and side-eyeing Idhika, “Mother and father will hear you. Keep it low.”

Idhika giggles, focusing on the dance instead. Anvi sits absentmindedly, playing with the fabric of her gown when she sees a hand extending towards and a familiar voice respectfully calling out to her, she looks up, gaping at Taehyung before her.

He smiles, his hand still extended, the other behind him as he slightly bends down and says, “May I have this dance, princess Anvi?”

Anvi looks at him in bewilderment before accepting his hand, getting up, letting him pull her to the dance floor.

His hands are on her, one on her waist and the other intertwined with her, guiding her to dance as she rests her free hand on his shoulder, moving along to the music’s beats.

Both of them have a ghost of a smile on their lips as they dance before Anvi says teasingly, “You finally got the courage to ask me for a dance in front of my parents, hm?”

Taehyung chuckles slightly, their bodies moving, “Yeah, surprisingly, I did.” Anvi chuckles as well, “Took you pretty long.”

Taehyung smiles sheepishly, “I'm a bit scared of them, you know?” Anvi rolls her eyes, “Sure, you're.” Taehyung smiles again at her eye roll, “I'm serious.”

Meanwhile, Idhika sits with her parents, watching her sister have fun, smiling softly. She notices her parents smiling too as they see their daughter dance with Taehyung, nodding at each other.

Idhika looks at the servant when he comes forward to offer drinks, she smiles at him and takes a glass of lemonade, thanking him. Her parents do the same, before the servant walks away, offering drinks to all the guests, some accept while some refuse. Suddenly, the beautiful moment is broken by glasses shattering, followed by a loud, masculine yell which startles everyone. Everyone halts on their movement, all the heads turning to the source of the sound.

Jungkook, the elder prince yells at the servant, his eyes dark with anger, “What are you doing!? Can't you see someone’s coming!? All of you're useless!” The servant just hangs his head low, not daring to speak a word even though he's not at fault. Unfortunately, Jungkook’s the one who bumped into him, not the other way around.

King Min-gyeol stands from his chair, sharply glaring at his elder son, his voice firm and stoic as he says, “Jungkook, behave. So many nobles are here, you're disrespecting us.”

Jungkook pays no attention, fuming at the servant as he still stands with his head hung low, “What!? Why are you still standing huh? Go and clean the–” Idhika cuts him off, her voice sharp as she says, “Why are you behaving with him that way? Mistakes happen, and humans do that. He's a human, so are you. What about the time when you make a mistake? No one behaves with you like that, do they? Just because you're a prince, doesn't mean you can behave with someone like that.”

Idhika's parents look at each other and her mother tries to stop her, whispering, “Idhika, don't talk here like that. They'll handle it. Be quiet.”

Idhika doesn't respond, her gaze pinned to Jungkook. She wouldn't let anyone be disrespected, after all her mother taught her to not disrespect anyone or let that happen regardless of their status when she was young. Jungkook’s gaze snaps to her, his eyes narrowing at her statement. He walks to her, stopping right before her as he says lowly, “What did you say? Who are you huh? Who are you to–”

This time Taehyung steps in, gripping Jungkook’s shoulder lightly. He looks at Jungkook, his gaze unwavering as Jungkook glares at him, though there's a hint of warning in his gaze as he says to Jungkook, “This is enough, Jungkook. You're creating a scene here and disrespecting all of us. This is not what we were taught when we were young. We weren't taught to disrespect anyone. Nothenless, let's end it here. The mess will be cleaned, you don't have to worry about that.”

Jungkook throws a glare at Taehyung, shrugging his hand away from his shoulder before walking out of the ballroom.

Destined Through Centuries ⇌ KTH & JJK two

★ synopsis :: They say, life isn't a fairytale and it's the truth. When fate brings the four souls close to their soulmates, they only want to be happy till the end. But is it in their fate to be happy till the end? Will it be a happy ending for them?

★ pairings :: jungkook x idhika (fem!reader) & taehyung x anvi (fem!reader)

★ genre :: historical au, modern au, s2l, f2l, non-idol au, fluff and angst.

★ rating :: 18+

★ warnings :: none

★ note :: took me some time to finish writing this as I was busy with my studies, but I hope you'd like this. thank you for reading ! feedback is always appreciated. <3

1825, Chandralaya Kingdom

The sunlight falls on her face, making her face glow. Her eyes flutter slightly as she stirs awake. Anvi sits up on the bed, squinting her eyes to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the curtains and entering her chamber. She yawns quietly, getting up from the bed before walking to the huge window in her chamber. She pulls open the curtains, taking in the view of her kingdom from the window. She stretches her limbs, humming to herself, seemingly in a pleasant mood.

A gentle knock on the door of her chamber catches her attention. The maids enter the chamber after getting permission from the young princess to get her dressed up for the day.

Anvi and Idhika walk to the throne room, when Idhika speaks up, “An envoy from the Syndril Kingdom has come to invite us for the king's birthday.”

Anvi raises her eyebrow, feeling her heart leap into her chest as she asks, trying to mask her excitement, “Really? Is he still here?”

Idhika hums, completely oblivious to her sister's excitement, “Yeah, I believe so.” Anvi glances at Idhika before speaking, “Idhi, what do you think about the king Min-gyeol?”

Idhika frowns hearing that and looks at Anvi, tilting her head as she asks, “What do you mean? Nothing, I guess?”

Anvi sighs, flashing a polite smile to one of the maids as they pass by her, “I mean, don't you think he acts weirdly? He takes too much pride in himself as well.”

Idhika blinks, “Weirdly? No, I don't think so. And he's a well known king after all, nothing new to take pride in him. Isn't it?”

Anvi shakes her head, side-eyeing her sister, “You're just too nonchalant about everything around you. And just because he's a king, he's too proud of himself? That's what I don't like. He also never really smiles, if you haven't really noticed. You know, I also heard the queen is his second wife.”

Idhika’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise upon hearing it, she turns her head to look at Anvi, “Really?” Idhika nods to herself and says, “King Min-gyeol is always so stoic and stiff, isn't he?”

Anvi hums, fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse, “Yeah, he's. He's not very friendly. I've noticed the queen appears very nervous when she's beside him.”

Idhika nods, her eyes raking over the various pictures of their ancestors on the walls of the hallway as they walk to the throne room, “Yeah, I've noticed that too. I think it's because of the way the king carries himself. Everyone seems to be very cautious around him. But how do you know that the queen is his second wife?”

Anvi gulps, nervously saying, hoping Idhika wouldn't catch her nervousness, “I just heard it… you know?”

Idhika nods in acknowledgement, not noticing Anvi's nervousness as they reach the throne room, stepping inside.

The royal councils bowed to the young princesses as soon as they entered and took their seats on their respective thrones right beside their father, their mother seated on her throne at the left side of the king.

Anvi’s eyes land on the envoy and she's momentarily startled when she notices his eyes indicating something. And she knows what it's. It's not the first time Taehyung has sent a letter to her after all. Anvi nods at the envoy secretly, silently letting him know to meet her at the back of their royal garden.

Anvi looks around, tip-toeing to the back of their royal garden quietly, her fingers pulling up her lehenga’s bottom slightly so as to not trip over anything. She sighs in relief when she sees the envoy is standing at a corner, waiting for her.

She walks to the envoy, still looking around to make sure there's no one around them. She nods and smiles as the envoy bows to her and hands the letter to her with utmost respect when she approaches him. She holds the letter, running her thumb over the envelope lovingly before looking at the man, “Thank you so much. You should go now, if anyone sees you, there will be trouble.”

The envoy nods, a small smile on his lips as he bows down to her respectfully, “Yes, I'll take my leave now.”

Anvi nods, watching the man leave before looking down at the letter in her hand. She hides the letter by adjusting her dupatta.

1825, Syndril Kingdom

Jungkook steps down off of his horse, gently rubbing his head when his horse leans closer to get some love. He lets his horse roam around the forest as he walks to the riverside. He lets out a deep sigh, kicking a pebble into the water, watching it drown in the water. He slowly sits down by the riverside, adjusting his royal coat. He closes his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes flutter open and he takes in the surroundings, feeling better than before.

Soon enough, his peaceful moment is broken when he hears the heavy footsteps of another horse, as it stops right behind him. Jungkook looks behind and his expression quickly changes when he sees Taehyung as he jumps from his own horse, smiling softly as it nuzzles to him. Taehyung lets the horse stay there after petting it before making his way to Jungkook. Jungkook grunts, annoyed at the fact that his peaceful moment was disturbed by his dear brother. He looks away, facing another way when Taehyung sits beside him.

Jungkook scoffs, still not looking at Taehyung as he asks, “What are you doing here? You can't just let me have some peaceful moments, will you?”

Taehyung ignores his words, plucking out a strand of grass as he instead asks, “I was going hunting. Thought I should ask you when I saw you sitting here. Wanna go with me?”

Jungkook doesn't reply, blankly staring at the river. Taehyung looks at Jungkook, a teasing smile on his lips as he asks, “What? Scared that I'll do–” he's cut off when Jungkook speaks, his voice low, “Why do you keep trying to get closer to me even though I push you away?”

Taehyung silently looks at him for some moments before uttering softly, “Because you're my brother? I know you don't like me and Yi-seul, but both of us love you. You're our older brother. We share the same blood, don't we? You can trust us, you know? We're not as bad as you think, so don't always push us away.”

Jungkook blinks, vulnerability flashing in his eyes as he heaves a deep breath, taking some time to answer, “I don't know. It's so hard to trust people around me.”

Taehyung nods, his eyes following a bird as it sits on a branch of a tree, “I know. Take as much time as you need. No one's rushing you. We'll still be here.”

Jungkook sighs again, running his hand through his hair, when Taehyung reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, his expression turning to teasing again as he asks, “So, let's go hunting?”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, cracking a little smirk playfully, a sight so rare, “Yeah, let's go.”

1825, Chandralaya Kingdom

She unlocks the door of her chamber especially made for her to drown herself into artworks, stepping inside. She closes the door behind her forgetting to close it as her free hand holds the envelope to her chest, excited to read it.

Anvi strides towards her desk and quickly lights up the candles, before settling down to read the letter. As she opens the envelope carefully, a wide smile dancing on her lips. She pulls out the letter, about to read it when the door of her chamber opens, revealing Idhika who steps inside, stopping midway at her sentence when she sees Anvi holding a letter, “Didi, aren't you–”

Anvi's heart drops and she quickly tries to hide the envelope, but alas, she's too late because Idhika has already hurried to her side, getting a hold of the letter already as she snatches it away.

“A letter? Who wrote it– what? Kim Taehyung?” Idhika's eyes widen when she sees the name as she goes through the letter. She gapes at the letter, not believing her eyes. She looks at Anvi in surprise and disbelief, her voice barely above a whisper, “Didi? A letter from Kim Taehyung? Am I seeing it correctly?”

Anvi bites her lip, shutting her eyes tightly, not being able to believe she got caught even after being so careful. Meanwhile, Idhika reads the letter, her eyes scanning over each letter Taehyung lovingly wrote to his beloved woman. Idhika gasps, shaking her head, “Oh my! I can't believe this. You two love each other? How come I never knew? Does anybody know?”

Anvi sighs in defeat, shaking her head as a no, mumbling, “No, you're the first one to know. Why did you have to come right at this moment?”

Idhika scoffs, pushing at her elder sister's shoulder, “Shut up. Firstly you kept this big thing hidden from me and now you're telling me this? Ah I still can't believe it. But anyways, I'm actually happy for you. How long has it been since you two started this?”

Anvi mumbles, snatching away the letter from Idhika making her giggle, “A few years. We saw each other for the first time when he came to our kingdom to visit it years ago for the first time as well. Since then… we have been talking, you know? He's the one who sends the letters most of the time.”

Idhika squeals, clapping her hands, “Oh my god! I'm so happy for you.” Anvi glares at her, “Stop squealing and clapping, someone will hear and thank you.” Idhika grins ear to ear, on cloud nine for her sister.

Destined Through Centuries ⇌ KTH & JJK m.list

★ synopsis :: They say, life isn't a fairytale and it's the truth. When fate brings the four souls close to their soulmates, they only want to be happy till the end. But is it in their fate to be happy till the end? Will it be a happy ending for them?

★ pairings :: jungkook x idhika (fem!reader) & taehyung x anvi (fem!reader)

★ genre :: historical au, modern au, s2l, f2l, non-idol au, fluff and angst.

★ rating :: mature. mdi.

★ warning :: slight mentions of abuse, mentions of blood, character death ( major and minor ), war, violence, mentions of infidelity, pregnancy, some indian culture things, jungkook is aggressive and rude, and taehyung's a softie, there's so much angst, so much crying, Jungkook is older than taehyung here (not in the whole story tho), every chapter has their own warnings.

★ status :: ongoing

★ important note :: the female characters' names are completely fictional.

★ a/n :: Hi, everyone ! thank you for choosing this story. this is my first time writing here and I'm really excited to write this story, hopefully y'all will enjoy it. I'm an indian, so there will be some Indian stuff. This story is actually a collaboration with my best friend. We planned this together. She'll be writing on a different platform, however. Also this beautiful banner is by @eerieedits . Thank you for the banner !

↝ CHAPTER INDEX

― Chapter 01

― Chapter 02

― Chapter 03

― Chapter 04

― Chapter 05

― Chapter 06

― Chapter 07

― Chapter 08

― Chapter 09

― Chapter 10

© 2025 daphhie. all rights reserved. Reposting or translating is not allowed, even if the proper credits are given.

Ahhhhhhh, I love it, so so much. I really like how Jungkook’s stance is questioned by the oc. Her character is easy to understand and is so much of a fresh take on the aftermath of the situation she’s facing. My gosh their chemistry is amazing. I love how he makes up for her distancing herself. I love how the maturity of Jung-kook, from his decision to not let her now and giving her space. It’s enlightening to know more about him as this particular character. I love how they comfort each other. This was a spectacular read. I’m looking forward to what’s yet to come.

candles & flames: fire | jjk (m)

chapter II: fire

Summary: The aftermath of wicked deception and painful revelations. You’re lost and confused, and so is he.

➳ pairing:Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: oblivious jk, hurt oc, misunderstandings, miscommunication is my brand lol, deception, lies, tension, tears, fights, crying, yearning so much yearning !!!, insecurity, flashbacks, pov switch, mention of past minor character death, jk as a kid, angst!; explicit sexual content: hook-ups, fondling with tiddies, biting, bit of choking, kissing, fondling with pussay, erection, bit of grinding, bit of dom!jk, yearning; the ending </3 ➳ wc: 22.8k ➳ a/n: phew okay, here goes :’) super nervous about this one, and super excited for the last/upcoming one. i hope everything turned out well and that you guys enjoy it. as always, do let me know what you think… i appreciate y’all a lot 🥺 !! 👑🤍 ➳ a/n2: this is part 2 to my mini-series candles & flames !! find the mpost below <3

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

When a rhythmic knocking sounds against your entrance door the next morning, you already know who trudged his entire way down to your house.

Keep reading

If you haven’t heard or seen this yet...... Here you go!

Seriously though, it a great fic that has a great deal of thought put into it and shines throughout the work!

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 3

Title: Greenhouse Muses and Surprise Guests   

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You need to think out this whole situation, and where better than your favourite place on campus? The one place where no one ever goes and where you can truly do your best problem solvi—wait who the hell is sitting in your supposed place of undisturbed tranquility? 

Warnings: PG18, heavy swearing, photography jargon (hopefully nothing tooooo confusing, I intentionally over explained a bit for those unfamiliar but a quick google search should clear up anything), euc=short form for eucalyptus “Youke”, art jargon but less, 1 (one) mention of metaphorical murder, and a bit of angst and fluff. I think that’s all?? Hella internal dialogue 

Word Count: 10,804

Release Date: March 2, 4:00PM

A/N 1: she somehow went from 8k to 10.8k???? Hope you enjoy!!

A/N 1.5: I’m literally so tired of looking at this, I’ve read it at least 10 times in three days. 

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Jungkook’s sitting at a table outside what he considers to be his new safe haven, making a mental note to thank Yuri for showing him the greenhouse cafe—is that its name? He should’ve asked.

He can see himself coming here all the time for quiet morning work sessions. The coffee is great, the snacks are delicious, and there aren’t a lot of people around either—zero—to be precise. So he really considers this a win in his book.

The cafe is just southwest of a medium sized greenhouse, not even a minute’s walking distance between the two. He could clearly see all the flowers and plants within from his seat outside. And behind the greenhouse was nothing but a small grass field followed by thick, dense forest.

It doesn’t even feel like he’s on campus. Just free about the world, grabbing a coffee and sitting down to work on a project like anyone else would. Like anyone else could. Another face in the crowd instead of the one on magazines in every corner store, book shop and grocer.

He can dream about it. Take in these small moments, but it will never be his reality. Not really. Even in this little corner of blissful nowhere the barista who served him his coffee knew who he was, addressed him properly, albeit a bit stuttered.

And he can’t blame her. It’s what she’s supposed to do. How she’s ‘supposed’ to react to him. 

He’s someone big and important. Someone people look to and see their future in his hands. Someone who merits reactions when in the presence of others. 

Someone who…

Someone…

So he dreams. And is thankful for what little normalcy he can get.

Taking a deep breath in, he holds it and he shakes his head, dismissing the thoughts before releasing a steady, controlled exhale.

Reset.

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THE WAY I ACTUALLY FROTH AT THE MOUTH EVERY TIME ONE OF THESE COMES OUT🙌😩

you’re doing so WELL I GOT SO MUCH RESPECT FOR YOU🫶🫶💜🫶💜💜💅🫶💜🫶💜💅

‼️GO READ IT‼️

NOT JUST ON CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

he's the first boy you've ever brought home for christmas. jungkook's nervous. you're horny.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 4 of 6

pairing nerdy!jk x gf!reader

genre established relo, college au, fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, spirited extro gf x soft angel bf, jk comes home w oc for the holidays, he’s so soft and shy, until he isn’t oop, i triedd w the context but this rlly is just oc getting the xmas dicking she deserves, kissing, cursing, switchy soft dom jk, giddy subby oc, they try to keep quiet, keyword try, dirty talk, cunnilingus, jk's a munch, condomless p in v sex, oc on pill, creampie, they're literal angels & i would die for them

word count 4.8k

banner by the gorgeously gifted @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

“My mom loves you.”

“You think?” Jungkook’s lips tilt into a soft smile, his hand warm and steady as it glides over your thigh, draped comfortably across his waist. “She’s amazing. I see her in you a lot.”

Your nose scrunches as you smile softly into the curve of his arm, your fingers absently tracing along his chest. When your nails graze over his nipple, you feel it perk up under your touch, and you can’t resist pressing a light kiss to the skin beneath your lips.

“You’re so easy to love, baby,” you murmur, your voice muffled slightly against his arm. But you know he hears you from the way his chest rises and falls a little faster, betraying the quiet effect you always have on him. “Had me whipped from the first time I saw you.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows cutely, the same expression he always makes when you say this. He never quite believes it, even now. You can tell he’s picturing that day—how you noticed him tucked into the back of the freshman seminar, seated in a corner with his laptop angled slightly, like a shield in case someone dared to take the empty seat beside him.

That someone had been you.

Coming to Seoul for university had been a big deal—not just for you, but for your family and everyone back home in Namhae-gun who’d cheered you on. You weren’t naturally gifted in academics the way your boyfriend was, but you worked hard, just like he did. You’d taken every extra shift you could at your local little grocer, worked the after-school care program at Sannie’s elementary school, and with some help from your mom and stepdad, you pieced together what your scholarship didn’t cover.

With that, you packed your clothes and favorite trinkets from your childhood bedroom, said goodbye to your family and the friends you’d known your whole life, and set off for the big, bright Seoul city.

It was bittersweet. Namhae-gun had been your whole world, but Seoul was your dream. And now, as you looked at Jungkook beside you, his pretty face soft in the dim light of your room, you realized he was now your new both. Your world and your dream. Your present and your future.

You still talked to your best friends, Lila and Jimin, nearly every night over FaceTime, Jungkook joining most times. He’d been so adorably shy the first time they demanded to meet him, visibly nervous they wouldn’t like him. It still baffled you sometimes, how he could think that way. How he didn’t see himself the way you did.

Because, in your eyes, he was everything. The cutest, dorkiest, sexiest nerd you’d ever met—you’d kill for him. You knew Lila and Jimin would fall for him too. And they did.

Your extroverted best friends even begged him for his socials, which he shyly handed over, his cheeks pink as he spoke out his handles. He almost choked on his own saliva when Lila let out the loudest moan mid-call, suddenly thrusting her iPad at the screen to show his latest post. It was a photo of the two of you at the beach—you, in a little multicolored bikini holding the camera out, and Jungkook with his big, wet chest on full, bare display beside you.

You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement at her thirsting over your handsome boyfriend, cupping the side of his burning face as he ducked his head into your neck. His linked arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as you nestled in his lap.

“Angel?” he murmured quietly into your neck. “Why would she say t-that?”

The disappointment—and maybe even slight annoyance—in his pouty tone made you want to slam your laptop shut and take him as far down your throat as you could. Instead, you’d cooed softly, turning your head to kiss his warm cheek and whispering in his ear that she was, in fact, a raging lesbian.

“Oh,” he whispered back, tickling your skin. “Okay.” His pout relaxed, and you felt the softest, relieved little smile on his lips against your neck.

You had bitten back a moan of your own at how much that turned you on, turning to pepper his round cheek with a hundred kisses until his blush faded and the corners of his lips tugged into a cute little bunny grin. You smiled fondly at the memory of Jimin groaning dramatically while Lila yelled at you to go lower.

“Your stepdad asked me to join him for golf tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s soft, nervous voice pulls you from your thoughts. You hum in surprise and beam up at him, fingers brushing lightly along his tummy. “Really? Oh, baby, that’s so great. Are you going to go?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, swallowing hard. His throat bobs as he glances down at you, your cheek now pressed against his chest. His hand lingers at your waist, fingers curling gently into your soft skin. “Would you… would you like to come?”

You coo softly, nodding as your lips brush the curve of his collarbone. “If you want me to, honey,” you murmur, your mouth pressing a little kiss to his pebbled nipple. His chest stutters with a throaty breath, and you grin against his skin. “I’d love to.”

“Always want you to come with me, baby,” he breathes, his voice unsteady as you tilt your head, lips wrapping softly around the bud. Your gaze drifts up lazily to his beautiful face, his eyes already half-lidded. “E-everywhere I go. Wish I could take you.”

“Mmm.” The hum vibrates against his chest as your hand slides up to scratch lightly over his other nipple, your teeth grazing over the one caught between your lips. His hips shift beneath you, his breath catching as his pants pick up. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, my love."

Jungkook tries to stifle the whine rising in his throat, but it slips out anyway, soft and desperate, when your teeth scrape just a little harder over his nipple. His fingers flex at your waist, gripping you tighter.

“Ahh,” he heaves under his breath, his head lolling softly into the pillow. “Baby, we-we can’t.”

You hum, brow arching slightly in amused defiance. “And why is that, honey?” Your lips brush over both of his nipples, one flushed red and swollen from your mouth, the other stiff and sensitive from your nails.

“B-because,” he stammers, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch you tossing the blanket off your waists and shifting to straddle his lap. His breath hitches as your thighs settle around him, your body hovering prettily above his. He swallows hard, his focus slipping as he tries to gather himself. “Your parents, angel. What if they—”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, your palms flattening against his chest as you lean in to steal his breath. His exhale trembles through his nose, and he lets out a desperate mewl when he tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing your lips. You pull back just enough to keep him chasing you.

“Their room’s on the other side of the house, my darling,” you murmur against his lips, your voice low and sweet. “So is Sannie’s. Nobody’s gonna hear your cute little noises.”

Jungkook flushes a deep pink at that, his pout immediate and utterly adorable. You dissolve into giggles, your nose brushing his as he huffs. He doesn’t correct you, though. He knows better and so do you. You’re always the one who can’t stay quiet during sex, no matter how much he whispers please, baby, they’re gonna hear us against your skin.

The thought makes your heart race. Sometimes you still can’t believe he was a virgin before you. Not with the way he fucks. Sweet and shy as he is, Jeon Jungkook turns into something else entirely when he’s inside you.

Your first time together had been soft and clumsy and perfect. Tucked into the covers of his dorm bed while his roommate Taehyung spent the night at his girlfriend’s place. He’d asked if you were okay a hundred times, his hands shaking against your skin as he moved so carefully, so sweetly. You’d never felt more loved.

But the second time?

Once he stopped asking if you were alright every thirty seconds, once he started trusting you when you told him you fucking loved it and to keep going, he went.

Oh, how he fucking went.

That second night, your own roommate had come back early—earlier than she said she would—and screamed the moment she opened the door. She’d walked in to find your shy, soft-spoken, nerdy boyfriend fucking you raw from behind on your bed, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusted you back and forth on his cock, your makeup-smeared face buried in the pillow, your throat raw from begging.

“We’ll be quiet,” you lie softly against his mouth, your lips brushing his as you lean back down, rolling your hips over his stiffening cock. The thin fabric of your Christmas pajama shorts drags over his matching pants, the friction making him shudder beneath you. “Haven’t fucked me since yesterday morning, baby,” you pout, leaning up with a little huff, bouncing brattily in his lap. “You hate me.”

“D-don’t ever say that again, baby,” he husks, his voice so fucking low as you begin to grind your slickening core against him. “Love you more than life itself.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your tone turning smug, satisfied. You drag yourself along the length of him again, slow and pointed, humming at the way he twitches beneath you. Leaning down, you hover just over his parted lips, so close your breaths mingle. “You love me that much, baby?”

He’s fighting it—you can see it. The way his jaw tightens, his brows knitting. His throat works around a sound he’s determined to swallow. His resolve is wavering. His control crumbling—or crumbled, he doesn't fucking know—as you roll your hips again, the wet heat of you seeping through the fabric between you.

“That mu-much, baby,” he chokes out, his voice strained. His long fingers dig gently into the soft flesh of your waist, guiding you as you move against him, his grip both a plea and a surrender all at once.

Your lips curl into a triumphant smile against his as you grind yourself back and forth with just a bit more pressure. You feel the way his breath hitches, the way his resistance falters. He knows he’s already lost.

And you know it too when his big hands slide under the hem of your little green singlet, patterned with tiny reindeers and snowflakes, gripping your hips firmly before flipping you both over.

Your big eyes blink up at him, maybe a little too giddy, as he hovers above you. He shakes his head softly, his bunny nose twitching, and then leans down to take the kind of kiss he’s been craving all day.

The kind of kiss he’s wanted since dinner, when your parents were fawning over him between bites of food, praising him for everything from his sweet nature to his thoughtful gift for San.

The one he hasn’t had a chance to steal since he was sitting nervously beside you on the living room couch, watching your baby brother open the limited-edition Iron Man figure Jungkook had picked out just for him. Sannie had sprinted up to your boyfriend, his tiny arms wrapping around him, hugging him so tight and calling him the best hyungie he’s ever had.

And, yeah, okay, maybe he cried a little.

It’s the first time all day he’s had you to himself, the first time since yesterday afternoon. The afternoon he’d spent with you in the communal kitchen at your college, baking the Christmas tree-shaped cookies you’d brought home for your family in a big container.

The same cookies he had snuck an extra one to Sannie, even when you told your little brother no more after two. He couldn't help it, folding instantly when the adorable kid tugged on his sleeve with those big, pleading eyes—the ones that reminded him a little too much of you.

Jungkook thought you hadn’t noticed, but of course you did. You’d stood quietly in the doorway, watching as your gentle giant boyfriend snuck two cookies from the container and handed one to San, his lips twitching with a soft laugh when your brother shoved the whole thing into his mouth like Jungkook might change his mind and take it back.

The feeling of your lips wrapping around his tongue pulls him back to the present, and he lets out a breathy groan into your mouth. You swallow it greedily, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as you tug his warm, solid weight down into you, relishing in having him pressed so heavily against you.

“Needa be quiet, baby,” he says, his voice low and breathy, maybe even a little whiny as he pulls away reluctantly. “C-can’t have your dad hearing us. I won’t be able to play golf with him tomorrow if I can’t look him in the eye.”

You hum as your lips chase his, dazed and unbothered. “You hate golf,” you murmur absently, your hands sliding up to cradle the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing soft, hot skin. Then your tongue slips past his lips again.

He lets out something between a grunt and a laugh, his resistance melting away as his big tongue laps against yours. You taste the faint trace of toothpaste as you kiss him deeper, chasing every last hint of it, your body tingling as you take his tongue further into your mouth.

It’s no surprise that he’s already fully hard, just like it’s no surprise that you’re already fucking drenched. His stiff cock presses down against your stomach, and your hips buck instinctively at the feeling, a mewly moan spilling from your lips without care.

His hand slides up from your waist to wrap gently around your throat, and your brows furrow in pleased anticipation through closed eyes, silently hoping he’ll squeeze harder. He does, in a way, his fingers pressing softly against the sides of your neck, enough to make your head spin. The kiss slows as he pulls back slightly, leaving you pouty and blinking up at him.

His cheeks are flushed, his soft lips slightly swollen, his big, gorgeous nose marked faintly on the bridge from where his glasses had rested earlier. He looks down at you before speaking, his voice reluctant, heavy with the words he feels he has to say.

“Quiet, please, angel.”

You lick your lips, trying to chase more of his taste. “Okay, cutie,” you say with a sweet smile, nodding softly as you gaze up at him. “I’ll be quiet.”

His tongue darts out to lick over his lips, as if he’s doing the same as you, before he smiles knowingly. “Liar.”

He’s back on your mouth, his fingers still brushing softly over your throat as his lips capture yours again. This time, he takes your tongue into his mouth, sucking in a way that’s both soft and firm, pulling wet, breathy pants from you chest. Your ankles tighten around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. There’s not even any fucking space between you, but you're not a quitter, grinding pathetically up into him, hips searching for the angle you need.

And then you find it.

“mmmM,” you whine as his hard, covered cock presses perfectly through your pussy lips.

Jungkook groans low into your mouth at the feeling, his lips and tongue moving with messily with yours. He’s devouring you, the wet, sticky sounds of your kissing filling the room as you grind yourself shamelessly against him. The friction is heavy, perfect as his cock is stiff and hot beneath the thin barrier of his pajama pants. Your hips move instinctively, searching for more, harder, faster, anything to ease the ache between your legs.

His hand tightens around your throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep your head swimming. His lips break from yours with a slick little pop, leaving your lips humming and eyes hazy as they meet his flushed face. His eyes are wide and wet as his grip on your neck loosens, trailing down to your waist.

“Needa taste it, baby,” he rasps, his voice wrecked as he slips lower, dragging his big frame down the bed. “Please baby? Need to taste you.”

The words make your head spin, and you breathing out a pleading god yes baby as his hands grip the waistband of your shorts, tugging them and your panties down in one motion. The cool air against your slick heat makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his big tongue licking a fat stripe right up your drippy folds.

“Baby—fuckk,” you breathe, your thighs trembling as his mouth works into you. He’s messy with it, always is, his tongue dipping inside your hole, then dragging back up to swivel around your clit. His big nose presses against you as he eats, throat humming and brows furrowing like they always do when he tastes a really good dish.

He pulls back just enough to breathe out, “S-so yummy, baby. I love it. Love it so fucking much.” His lips latch onto your clit, sucking it between his lips and humming dirtily, making your hips jerk up into his face.

“Hahhh,” you whimper, your voice high and dumb as your hands tangle in his hair, tugging hard when his tongue flicks even faster. “Shit, Jung- baby, uuh—”

Jungkook moans into your pussy, the sound high-pitched and needy, vibrating against your soppy heat. His jaw drops as he pushes in deeper, taking your whole pussy into his big mouth, completely forgetting the need for either of you to shut the fuck up. You’re dripping everywhere, your slick coating his lips and chin, and he laps it all up like an eager dog, his hands gripping your plushy thighs to keep you spread wide.

He lifts his head just long enough to suck in a breath before gathering a thick pool of spit in his mouth. He leans back down, face burying between your legs, and lets the saliva drool onto your folds before dragging his tongue through the mess, licking and lapping it all back up greedily.

Your body writhes under him, your head sinking back into the pillow as one hand fists tighter in his hair and the other grips the sheets desperately. Your mind reels, fragments of random thoughts flashing through it—the curve of the statue of liberty, the lucky quarter you found on your walk with him in the city, the moment you first kissed. Everything and nothing blurs together and you realize with a hum that your life is flashing right before your fucking eyes.

You’re trembling, vibrating against the bed, choking on the little noises slipping from your lips. Another uh. And another. And another.

“God, baby. That’s— uh, fuck. So fucking good. Eat your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook whimpers into you, his voice muffled by your cunt as his head follows the desperate rut of your hips. You buck against his mouth, but his hands hold you down, his tongue relentless. “My pussy,” he breathes against your folds, the words so adorably possessive. “It’s my pussy, baby.”

“That's r-right,” you gasp, your head lifting weakly to meet the sight of him—his face filthy, drenched, his mouth and nose buried in your heat as he tongue fucks your cunt like it's his last day on earth. “Your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook groans against you, wet and desperate, his hips shifting against the mattress as he thrusts into nothing, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He knows he’s close—so close that it’s embarrassing. He can feel himself leaking through the fabric, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s cumming right there in his pajama pants.

And you know it too. So you beg.

"Please, baby. Wanna cum with you, Kookie... Please."

His face morphs into a little pout as he slows, pulling away from his meal reluctantly, tongue flicking one last time at your puffy folds before his hands leave your thighs. He’s panting as he climbs back up your body, unable to deny you anything in the world, lips and chin glistening with your slick.

You smile at his wet face, your hands slipping up into his messy curls as you tug him down for a kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue is heady, dizzying, and you let out a little moan as you suck every last bit of it from his mouth. Jungkook groans into it, the sound so low that it almost resembles a cute little growl.

When you pull back, giving his swollen, red pout one last kiss, your gaze flickers down to his hand rubbing over his painfully hard cock. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing back up to meet his as you blink, waiting patiently.

He licks his lips, leaning down for one more quick kiss as his fingers fumble at his waistband. There’s a soft shuffle, and then his cock is free, flushed and heavy in his hand as he slides it against your slick folds. Your breath catches as he lines himself up, his hooded gaze locked on yours, brows furrowed in concentration.

He doesn’t need to look. His cock presses into you with an ease that has you keening, the thick head stretching you open as he pushes in. You feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper, feeding you more and more until your nails dig into his shoulders. The burn makes your jaw fall open, your head tipping back against the pillow.

“Ah,” he groans, his voice breaking as he bottoms out. “It’s so warm, baby—”

You’re already trembling, your walls fluttering around him as he starts to move, pulling out all the way before sinking right back in. “So big, Jungkookie,” you whimper, your fingers gripping his shoulders. “F-fuck, I love your dick so much.”

“Yeah?”

There it fucking is.

“You love it, baby? Love this fucking cock, baby?” he rasps, his hips snapping harder now, the loud, wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the room.

“It’s yours.” Slap. “Your fucking cock.” Slap. “Will always be your fucking cock.”

Your pussy clamps around him, eyes rolling back as choked fucks spill from your lips. You can’t answer, your voice lost to your moans, your body arching into his as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting that spot inside that makes your vision blur. You barely register the slam of the headboard against the wall, too cock-drunk to care as he presses a big hand to your belly.

“Feel that?” he growls, his palm firm against your abdomen. “Feel me, baby? Fucking up inside of you right here?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, your hands scrambling for purchase against his back. “Oh my god, yes, yes—”

His other hand slides up your body, under your singlet to find your nipple and roll it between his fingers. The sensation makes you jerk against him, your cries spilling freely now. “So loud,” he mutters, though his lips quirk like he’s fucking proud of it. “God, you just can’t help it, can you, baby?”

He knows you love it when he talks to you like this. You’ve told him so more than once. He didn’t know how he felt about it at first, but when it had you cumming harder, whining more, it wasn’t really a choice anymore. He’d do anything to make you feel like that, give you anything you wanted.

You don’t have a chance to respond—not coherently, at least. His thumb drags from your hip, slipping down to your swollen, throbbing clit. He rubs big, messy, wet circles over the sensitive nub, and your vision shakes as you feel it coming.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans when you let out that shaky little noise and that trembling clench you always do when you’re about to cum. “Cum for me. Let me feel it. Cum on your cock, baby.”

Yes. Yes.

“Yes!” you scream, your body seizing up, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cry out, your hands slipping from his hair, nails raking down his bare back as you orgasm. “Baby, uh—fuck!”

He doesn’t slow, his hips pounding into you as his own release builds. “G-gonna fill you up,” he chokes out, his thrusts erratic now. “Fuckkkk, baby, gonna cum so fucking deep inside you.”

“Yes,” you whimper the only word you seem to know. “Wannit so bad, Kookie.” You slur, voice breaking as he keeps fucking into you like a fleshlight. “Wanna feel your cum fill up my fucking pussy, baby, g-g-godddd.”

He shudders above you, his hips snapping hard with one long, deep thrust as he chokes out a cuumming, baby before spilling into you, his deep moan vibrating through your bedroom.

His thumb doesn’t stop.

He’s panting hard, hips fucking in and out of your leaking hole while you milk every last drop of sticky cum from his softening cock. “Come on, angel, gimmie one more, please. Please, angel.”

He’s pleading. You’re dying. Your body is convulsing, clenching and squeezing around his cock, somehow pulling even more of his load when he thought he had no more left to fucking give.

“One more, baby. That’s it. That’s it. There we go.”

Your eyes roll back, the dirtiest moan tearing from your throat as you squeal and shake around his cock. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first. He works you through it, rocks you through it, pushing his hips flush against yours so the head of his cock bulges and pulses against your g-spot, spelling his name on your clit with his thumb while you give him one fucking more.

Your chest heaves as your body trembles beneath him, your hands clutching weakly around his sides. Jungkook’s hips still, his cock twitching inside you as he breathes heavily, his forehead pressing softly against yours. He lifts his thumb from your clit, panting, and brings it to his lips without thinking, sucking your slick from his finger.

When he pulls it free, his eyes blink open, dazed and drunk. “I-I can’t believe we did that,” he chokes out. “We were so loud.”

You giggle softly, batting his hand away from his mouth to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down until his weight sinks against you. “Babyyy,” he groans in protest, squirming slightly. “I don’t wanna squish you.”

You grumble, your legs locking around his waist again, keeping him firmly in place. His softening cock shifts slightly inside you, and you hum contentedly. “You’re fine, my love. Perfect.”

He lets out a grumpy little whine before conceeding and resting his head in the crook of your neck. His chest rises and falls heavily against yours, his body still trembling faintly.

“It really is okay, though, baby,” you say, stroking his damp hair with one hand while your other rubs little circles over his back. “My mom and Sang-cheol are very sex positive.”

Jungkook’s body stiffens in your hold. “Angel, noo.”

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, shrugging innocently. “What? They are.”

His face burns even redder as he rubs his nose into your neck. “It’s gonna be so awkward tomorrow,” he mumbles.

You snicker, drumming his bare bum with your feet. “It’s fine, baby. I didn’t pack any golf attire by the way, so we’ll needa go to the mall in the morning. You can help me pick out a slutty little sport skirt.”

His head lifts just slightly and you swear his ears perk up like a bunny. “Okay,” he says softly, cheeks still pink. “I’d like that.”

You giggle, the sound muffled as you press a kiss to his warm cheek. “God, you’re so cute, baby.”

His lips quirk into a shy grin, his doe eyes blinking down at you. “I love you,” he whispers. “This has been the best Christmas of my life.”

Your chest tightens, and your brows furrow as you whine softly at his sweetness. “I love you too, my sweetheart,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands to press another kiss to his pout. “So much.”

His smile is soft, glowing, as he nestles back into your neck. His bare chest is warm against you, the two of you sinking into a quiet, content stillness. Your fingers brush through the damp hair at the base of his neck, his breathing evening out as your heartbeats sync.

“Angel?” His voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, my love?” you hum sleepily.

“I-I’m hard again.”

merry 23rd my darlings !! i hope you’re all having the best holidays so far, and thank u so much for all the overwhelming love and support on this silly willy journey of ours 💋 i’m sure you’ve already checked out december, but if you haven’t yet, PLEASEEE do — i swear to fuck u won’t regret it. the biggest thank u again from lovie and me, we appreciate you all endlessly 🩷🩷 see you on the 25th!! mwwwah -lyssa <3

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ . . . in which your wait has finally ceased, rather unexpectedly so as he surprises his way right into your arms on christmas eve

starring, navy officer!jungkook x kindergarten teacher!reader tags/warnings, fluff, waiting for your husband on christmas eve, very much inspired by that one line from sabrina's 'slim pickins', sweet couple alert, lower case intended word count, 1.1k note, i'm saur very sorry guys this is also an old piece (guilty). i wasn't able to finish up 'miles from home' on time 🫠. this was a cute lil request i received when i was on another acc so yeas bye lovers hope you enjoy 😘 permanent taglist : @ggukivrse @bangatanily @koosluvss @hobiseightbracelet @seokjinthescientist @nochuel

masterlist • taglist

“dada! look what i drew for you!”

the little girl’s giggle melts in your ears as soon as you step out of the classroom to drop her off. ara, your brother jin’s daughter was such a bubbly child, closely resembling her dad’s and mom’s soft features.

“jin, hi” you waved at him, nudging ara to her dad as she scurried towards jin’s open arms.

“hi, oh my baby who is this handsome man you’ve drawn right here” he sweetly appreciates his cherubic daughter, cradled in his arms, your smile widens seeing your brother so happy.

“ara, would you draw one for me as well?” you coo into her ears, petting the silkiness of baby hair that is tied up in a cute ponytail.

“yes auntie! i’m going to draw one with uncle jungkook and you!” she pats onto her bag as it clinks with all the colorful pens and papers stuffed inside.

“oh sweetie auntie would love that!” your mind, though, wanders off to jungkook, who is probably in the middle of the vast ocean, working for his country, making everyone proud.

but you sure miss your high school sweetheart, the black haired doe-eyed boy you met years ago, who’s now your husband. 

“__, if you ever feel alone, maybe i can drop ara off at yours sometime so we can getaway a little you know.” he winks lightly at ara’s mom, seated in the car, oblivious to the snarky comment he just made.

“i would love to have ara over, but not this christmas.” your lips curved into a smile.

“jungkook will be home on the 25th, tomorrow. though it’s late, i can still have him with me for a whole month!” you felt like a schoolgirl again, one who is head over heels for that one boy.

“finally that little dork finds time to spend with his wife. literally after dating for almost half of your lives and even marrying you he’s off in the middle of the sea, visiting once in a while like santa.”

jin’s brotherly instincts make you laugh as you shake your head

“i’m proud of him, jin. and i can wait, work here at the kindergarten and even play with ara and would still not feel alone because i know he’s with me everytime.” you say, matter-of-factly as jin mocks you again for acting like a teenager (as if he’s any better), but you didn’t mind, because these fleeting moments of thinking about your husband made you feel alive each time.

“okay then, it’s already evening! see you at christmas dinner tomorrow, and you better come with jungkook.” he “threatens”, making you helpless and thus ushered him to the driver’s seat, waving goodbye to ara, as you walk back to your own car, ending the day’s work at the kindergarten earlier than usual, to start christmas preparations.

you couldn’t wait to add final touches to the tree, and to countdown until the time jungkook comes home, when it would ultimately feel like one.

__

“that’s perfect!” your best friend jiah chimes through the phone, as you proudly show off the apple crumble recipe you were trying to replicate.

“it’s a bit too sweet for my liking though, but jungkook would surely love it.”

“yeah yeah lovergirl, isn’t your nice man home yet?” jiah asks as she is engaged in decorating her tree, busily shuffling through a multitude of gift boxes lying in front of her.

“he’ll only be here tomorrow, but before our usual dinner anyways.” you put the dish away in the refrigerator.

“okay then, i have to put up the star now, it’s long overdue.” you bid goodbye to jiah, sending her a pouty flying kiss, receiving nothing but an eye roll in return. typical.

picking up the gold and red star laying on the centre table, you heave a deep breath before trying to reach the top of the dark forest green christmas tree, already decorated.

after much struggle, but efforts in vain, your short figure hurries to the store room in search of a wooden stool stacked away somewhere.

10 minutes passed, as your defeated form emerges from the store room and leans against the door, high on contemplation as to how you’d accomplish this mission.

“never back down, angel.” you feel your senses coming alive, hearing a voice so familiar, a mix of aftershave and bleu de chanel ringing in your nose, a pair of sturdy arms wrapping around your waist lifting you up to bring you eye-to-eye with the top of the tree, holding you steely on the broad shoulder.

you had him memorized at this point. it was jungkook. his white uniform clad body, fit and firm, fluffy black hair that brushed against your exposed waist through the flimsy material of the red tank top adorned.

say, you’ve taken his words in, quietly leaning forward, placing the star oh so perfectly on the tree, pleasantly but not obviously surprised as you wanted to tease him for a while longer. you knew he’d come to you, even if a day earlier than informed and spend time with you like this. and display of strength? you were a sucker for that, only from the man who’d not let a scar touch your body when he had you close.

he brought you down from his shoulder, immediately towering your frame, eyes finally meeting after almost an year.

“hi” he sweetly muses, making your heart topple over and above.

“hi” you smile, looking up at him.

“can i kiss you?” 15 years of togetherness and here he is, asking you for consent. oh he’s your man, jacked and kind. not the boy you knew years ago.

“please do”

conversations, so short, but they’re still profound. he presses a sweet peck onto your lips, a feather touch, making you yearn for more.

a moment.

coming back up to look into your orbs for a second, he dives back again to your petals, like a man starved, foreheads pressed together, relishing the minute the both of you get engrossed into the kiss. he dips down, and learns you in a way no other can. pulling you closer it seemed like he was going to kiss you until christmas eve. you wouldn’t mind that.

“merry christmas, darling.” he whispers, voice hoarse and warm on the cold winter day.

“i missed you, love. merry christmas.” you kiss his nose in response, as he scrunches them. hands smoothing through the locks of your hair, he stares at you for a minute.

“i’ve made your apple crumbles, extra sweet this time though.” your eyes search his, as he chuckles.

“i think i’d want something just a wee bit more delightful than the desert you made, though.” 

his eyes gleam in mischief, placing you on his lap, cradling you close to his chest, hands ran on it’s own accord, exploring his broad shoulders.

“then let me be your sweetener, babe.”

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ . . . in which he learns you, in a way no other can. it's the intimacy of being understood. of having fate bring you together, and you hold on for eternity.

starring, CEO!jungkook x potteress!oc tags/warnings, an argument, work-time injury and everything in between, explicit content: fingering, use of nicknames like "baby", unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up), kitchen sex, soft aftercare and confrontation. note, i'm not entirely sure how this is— it's prolly js a pwp, an old piece which i modified a bit. tell me what you feel! feedback motivates me to write more! :3 word count, 2k+ permanent taglist : @ggukivrse @bangatanily @koosluvss @hobiseightbracelet @seokjinthescientist* * - (not able to tag!)

masterlist • taglist

Another miraculously orange morning and you excitedly pace towards the small out-house where you spend half of every day at. You were a potter, one with immaculate skills and rated a whooping five-star among the customers who you attended to. You harbor signature styles and originality in each creation. 

A pretty smile danced across your face as you opened your workstation for the day, setting aside all the pieces that were ready for delivery, drawing the curtains that opened to a sunlit view of the backyard. You have a sip of some freshly brewed coffee, that tasted a bit off, but still the effort counts. 

Jungkook had made you some as soon as you woke up, unusually so, because every morning unfurls into a scene of either him following you around as you help find his keys, or even important files that he was supposed to take care of.

Despite these, he’s always trying to become better. Even the best for you. 

3 years since you vowed to be bound to him for life, under really unforeseen circumstances. Betrayal that still stung in your heart, embarrassment that was hard to wipe off. 

A mistake, or maybe something intentional, you don’t dwell anymore. His brother, Junghoon, who was arranged to marry you, backed out at the last minute and in a haste, Jungkook stepped forward, saving your family’s generational dignity. Binding the both of you forever.

“Good Morning!!” Your husband chimed and opened the door further with a tray of pancakes and maple syrup.

“I wanted to make breakfast in bed, but you wake up so early everyday.” He pushes the door shut with his legs, carefully balancing the food in hand.

You peek further into the tray only to find some pancakes that barely made it alive and the majority completely burned off. You shook your head at his failed attempt in cooking, which wasn't novel.

"Oh lord, you cooked?" You approached him after washing  the clay off your hands and drying them.

"You don't seem impressed.. Do they look that bad, your honor?" He carefully checked the tray in his hold, doe eyes that held the galaxy in them, stared at yours, waiting for a response.

"Okay okay, let's see how it tastes first, then I'll give you the verdict, yeah?" You picked up the fork and dug into the relatively good one.

"It's not bad, I see, you've definitely improved." He presses a kiss onto your temple, feeling victorious as you smile and set the tray aside.

—

"Bye __ !! I'm leaving, see you soon and please take care." His daily reminders pass through your ears once again, as you wave at him with those clay coated hands of yours, a result of the carefully designed pots you're crafting.

You watch him inspect the car, ensuring it's in good condition as always, as his gaze shifts to the window of your workstation, catching yours like a lover's caress, brief and fleeting before driving off.

Your eyes divert back to the small pots you've already made. There were five, but you needed two more to finish with an order. It was for decorating a baby shower venue, so you had extra flowers and ribbons prepared to adorn them once they’re done.

Somehow feeling overwhelmed at the workload and deadlines, you whisper a final “I got this” in attempts of hyping yourself up, before leaning forward and placing the measured amount of clay on the wheel.

The moment you started, however, its sharp blades wounded your hands, and you jerked them back in pain and reflex.

"That.. hurts… where's the first aid." You gaze around the room in such a hurry as it adds to the giddiness in your head along with the blood loss as you somehow manage to get the coffee and gulp it down quickly before tightly tying the cloth you use to wipe your hands, to stop the blood flow.

You did try to finish the order and barely pack them up, before finally deciding to retreat for the day.

___

Plopping down on the couch back at home, you stare at the clock, realizing the time, you quickly rush towards the kitchen in order to prepare something before Jungkook arrives. You were completely focused on work, forgetting to make breakfast in the morning, which ended up in Jungkook's burnt pancakes, so you needed to have something proper for dinner, but with those injuries, it was hard.

Weighing the condition and thinking about what to do snatched away the remaining time, as the sound of Jungkook’s car pulling up into the garage became evident.

"Crap, he's here, what do I do" Nevertheless, you rushed towards the door to open it, only to scrape your injured palm on the coat stand nearby as you hissed in pain, and Jungkook walked in on the sight of his wife holding her palm and wincing.

"Y/N?! What is this, there's so much blood !! Didn't I tell you to stay safe and take care? Is this what I get in return?!" He raised his voice, throwing away his suitcase aimlessly before cradling your hands in his.

"I'm guessing you injured yourself while working,, damn it Y/N why can't you be careful?? If you can't take enough care, then please don't do something you cannot." He blew onto your palm to soothe it down, but you jerked your hands off of his grip and stared at his eyes.

“I’m perfectly aware of what I can, and cannot.” Your glare pierced through his face contorted in a “oh shit I fucked up” expression as his eyes widened further seeing your figure walk off cutting his words, right in front of him.

He shut his eyes tightly in rage, before storming upstairs.

— 

You had to cook dinner anyways and there's no other alternative, thus you managed to set the pan and crack open some eggs, deciding to fry them and finish it off with some cup noodles and chicken.

"Damn this is so hard how do I stir them now" in the end, you had to use your elbows to try beating the eggs, uncomfortably bent over the bowl. Just then, a hand was placed on your waist, straightening your figure up, before taking the whisk in the firm hold of none other than your husband, Jungkook.

"I'm sorry, please let me do this. Go sit down." He apologized and tried to help you, but you wouldn't budge.

"If you wanna eat today, move. I'll manage this." You said, with a tint of hesitation. You needed a helping hand, but your ego was too big to let go.

His breath fanned over the subtle skin of your neck as he bent forward and placed a kiss there, a fresh floral scent wrapping around yours. Like the known, simple assurance of “I got you, baby.”

"Please." He rasped as your hands involuntarily left the whisk as he started with the eggs again, with you still trapped in his arms. 

He gets them perfectly fluffy and ready to be cooked, before pushing it aside as if to make space for something.

Or someone, as his hand comes around you, placing you on the counter with such practiced ease.

“This is why I said I’ll cook and you can wait.” You mumble, but he hears it sharp and clear. 

“Trust me baby, I don’t wanna wait. You know I was just concerned for you right?” He whispers with a genuine apology evident in his voice.

“I know you just wanted to help, Kook. It’s just that.. I just hate… feeling out of control. ” You look down, at his hands on your lap, holding it intact.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, ___. I’m here, and I just want you to be okay.”

“I think I overreacted, a bit?” Your lips morph into a grin, as he rubs his chin in mock-doubt.

A bit.. too much?” He joked, forehead colliding with yours, holding you close, neither of you moving, afraid that this moment would shatter and fade.

You break it, nonetheless into a million pieces and more, clutching the collar of his white shirt just enough to draw him closer. His lips onto yours.

You could feel how he almost stopped breathing, trying to comprehend your new found instinct, the atmosphere shifting heavily.

Regaining composure, his hands slowly began to trace patterns on the sliver of skin exposed through your crop top, yours gripping his shoulders in attempts to bring him impossibly closer. His lips hover over yours in a beat, like a question, as you close your eyes for a second, letting the thoughts sink in, giving him the green light he needed to continue.

He takes your face between his hands then lifts your hand up and places them flat onto the cabinet doors above — all in a frenzy. You don’t care how it might’ve left a mark that you’d have to wipe off later.

All of this, and he suddenly pulls apart, the distance established again between your faces.

“Do you want me to wait? We can take this slow.” He sounded so cocky, and annoyingly hot at the same time.

“Too late.” You bring your hands down, actions biting back on your words as his lips find yours again, like it’s gotten a will of its own, more so at your affirmation. His hands rake over your soft cotton shorts that sit just right on your thighs, slightly hiked up. Rough hands palm through them, just close to where you’re aching the most.

“Y’know, you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad?” The ends of his mouth trace the skin beneath your ears, finding the spot that makes you squirm.

“You’re pushing it, Kook.” You let out a small whimper, goosebumps igniting your senses.

“Hmm, I think not.” His head tips to the side, hands pushing your panties aside, dangerously close, but not touching.

Not yet.

“Pleas..e” You choke out, arching forth, hips twitching against his palm to find some kind of relief. Jungkook traces his fingers through your folds, excruciatingly slow.

“Uh-huh, now you wait, okay?” He brushes another hand through your top, lifting it up to brush the underside of your breasts. Your hands move south, tracing his sweatpants before stroking him faintly through the fabric.

He groans, dark eyes staring into yours, “God, do you wanna be the death of me, baby?” Nevertheless he moved his hands relentlessly, fingers slipping in with absolutely no trouble.

“Yes? I don’t know?” You couldn’t even bring yourself to register anything that’s happening. Desperately wanting to make a comeback but failing at each nudge of his hands between your thighs and the way they curl in, taking you then and there.

His thumb runs in circles on your clit, as the pressure builds in just right, your legs start to shake as you whimper something like “Oh, right there” and he hears it. Again.

“You do know now, huh? Right here? Fuck okay.” And oh how he curls his ring finger in, the cold metal of it adding to the tight knot forming in your lower belly.

And you completely shatter. Shake and thrash around, the sight of your wedding band on his finger that’s absolutely ruining you right now— almost tips you over the edge.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so fucking well.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, letting your orgasm take over, as he lets out a low guttural “uh” that descends to a groan, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you.

“Shit, is this all f’me, darling?” He looked dazed. As if it was all a dream. You falling apart on his hands, back arched, all for him.

“Mhmm” You owed him a better response but you were too fucked out to care. Straightening your clothes, his calloused hands lifted you down, the sudden contact with the cold tiles feeling foreign to your feet.

“Turn around, hands on the counter so I can fuck you better.” 

Your stomach flips at the tone, hands immediately gripping on the edge and in a heartbeat, shorts hitting the floor as he fumbles with his own pants, as you slowly look at him behind, helping him pull it off. 

The eye contact snapped through your spine like a bolt of lightning.

“What? I just wanted to help.” You shrug.

“Fuck, if you pull shit like this, I fear I won’t last long.” He shuffles closer, angling your bodies better, sweaty palms pressing onto the back of your neck.

“I should take you to bed, fuck you deep and slow,” you arch back, growing arousal becoming too much to handle, seeking some sort of friction on his cock that’s almost touching your wet folds.

“What’s stopping you then?” You reach back to palm him, from the tip, upwards as a broken chant of your name rumbles through his chest pressed against your back, the heat of the moment leaving your bodies sweaty and craving for more.

That was more than enough for him to come out of the daze your figure— sprawled out under him on the kitchen counter— put him in as hands covered in your slick from earlier pushed your torso down flat onto the counter.

“I’m so fucking glad I married you. I love how you’re always all ready for me, just like this.” He lines up behind you, sliding inside without friction.

“J-jungkook, you’re so-” He fills you up, raw and deep like promised, hips thrusting confidently, hands probably leaving a mark on your ass with a grip so tight.

“You’re soaked, love. So pretty, fuck.” He slurs, your cheek rubbing against the counter every time he fucks into you.

All of this puts you in a state of mind too unclear, hazy, your whole body giving in to whatever he’s doing to you, and you feel it, all too familiar. His hands reach forward, rubbing your nipples through the tank top still clad on you, the rhythm never faltering as he brings you closer to the edge again.

“I can feel you, baby, tell me how badly you wanna cum ‘round me.” He slows down a little, breath hitching with each slow brush of his dick in you.

“Please, Kook, More- I need to- fuck please let me cum please.” Your eyes shut close, squinting at the feeling of the high that’s approaching fast. This was something new… real, for you in just a year of marriage. Like you’re becoming one.

“Need it so bad, don’t you?” He picks up again, ramming into you with a force that has your hands almost bruising with the grip on the edge of the table. 

“Take it then. Take me, you’re d-doing fuck, wanna feel you, let go, ___” palming your ass, his thumb comes in contact with your clit, and all too sudden, “I’m- Jungkook I can’t ohgod- fuckk”  like he said, you let go, around him in the most intense orgasm of your life.

“You feel so f’good.” He helps you ride it out while chasing his own high, as you let out a weak shivering cry at the sensation.

“Do you want me to pull out?” His voice was fucked up, the sentence forming in a half-growl as you disapprove, making him mumble a string of profanities and a broken moan, which was all it took for hot ropes of cum to fill you up completely. 

“Oh my fuck, love, do you feel that?” He stills and exhales a shaky breath behind you, that hits the nape of your neck as he plants a few kisses there.

“Are you okay, __?” 

“Hmm stay, please.” You say, too tired, completely basking in the afterglow.

“I’m going nowhere, but we gotta clean up, yeah?” He pulls you up, holding you close to keep you on two feet, kissing your half-lidded eyes open.

“Stay awake, we’ll hit the bed soon okay? C’mon.”

____

The low hum of the aircon and the soft scent of your shower gel filled the room, head resting on Jungkook’s arm around you, as his other arm continued to soothe the wound in your hand with brief touches.

“I’m sorry for storming out like that, I couldn’t complete the order and everything was just out of place.” You intertwined his fingers with yours, which never seemed to leave the bandage on your hand.

“It’s okay, what matters is we learnt something about each other today.” His eyes, however, remained zeroed in on the wound as you shake your head with a light chuckle. 

“I’m fine, Kook. Don’t push it.” You look up at his face that now carried the same lopsided grin from earlier. Annoying, but yours.

“Yeah, sure, who was the one begging to cum on my- ouch!” You swat at his chest, narrowing your eyes at his laugh that echoed through the room.

He hovers over you, pressing a long kiss to your lips, the smile never fading.

“We’re just starting with this relationship, and I'm more than ready to learn everything about you. Are you?"

"Yes I am." You kiss him again, feeling whole. Feeling like you’re his. 

I'm ready to learn everything about you, was the new "I love you". 

NO ONE, BUT YOU ⋆ 전정국

. . . . KISS ME, dangerous. been so lost without you all around me . . .

pairing, jungkook x model f!reader tags/warnings, little suggestive/allusion to smut, fwb2l, not too plot heavy js vibes lol note, slightly edited version of one of my drafts while i work on other longer wips <3 taglist, @ggukivrse @bangatanily | click here to join taglist! love diaries music rec, "Shirt"— SZA

feedback is appreciated! xx

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"Hold my hand in secret and kiss me when no one's looking."

Eyes skimming around the sky now felt like a burden, you just wanted to give up and collapse, finally, onto the couch or the ground would even do— for how you felt like a human wrapped in a cyclone, world feeling dizzy as fuck.

There behind, as the only source of light apart from the moon ablaze —an otherwise fluttering sight to drink in, if it weren't for the current scenario— lay your phone, chats blowing up like gushing water following a drought.

Him, Jungkook, is your best friend but with benefits. A mutual help was what you agreed upon but eventually it became really hard for your heart to continue to bottle up the feelings growing in, with each touch, each caress and each contact. Skin to skin.

Walking up towards the little table across the balcony, you pick up your phone, scanning the texts you just received from Jungkook. How he portrayed all the words, you couldn't believe he was feeling so. 

Reciprocated. 

Your love was bound back in all means from his fucking heart. Jeon Jungkook's heart. 

Days ago, you were shattered by what he asked for, after you had your timbers shivering and knees clamping in all seriousness of the confession he presented before you.

Everything seemed to wash into your mind all at once, making things twice as hard. Tossing the gadget away, landing safe on the couch, his chat was still open. You took yourself into your well-kept bedroom, for a cup of water so that every piece of information, each adversity and ecstasy would sink in thoroughly.

"Hold my hand in secret and kiss me when no one's looking."

These couple of words echoed to and fro inside your tight heart, remembering when this was part of the "contract" / help you were lending to each other. He needed you, but was scared of society. A shit ton of insecurities ate him up alive each time, when he thought about how he'll be judged to be "using" you, the daughter of a revered model in South Korea. 

But all you know is, you love him for good. You'd never regret being his friend and now, someone he loves. Society has clamped a huge pressuring weight on each one’s shoulder. Sometimes it is the constant nagging to remain perfect. Sometimes it's how you're not perfect / likable. 

You don't give two hoots about the media, your "famous" family and your friends who go blind at shiny things. You'd gave no fucks about big and bold in the community. If you got the chance now, like right now, it'll be you on one knee with an imperfectly perfect paper ring, proposing to someone who already has your heart wrapped around in his strong fists. 

"Oh, Jeon. You make me fucking crazy." You whisper, now, admiring the sky feels less a burden, that heart of yours somehow eased into peace.

She flipped, landed and spun in circles every time he touched you. Everytime his fingers came in contact with the one tiny tattoo resting on top of the skin right next to your sternum. Everytime he kissed you there and traced it with his tongue.

Funny how you address your heart as if it was a person, right? It is. Now, she has safely landed upon something, hilarious much, again how she found peace, her world in the chaos.

"Can I take her for a ride then?" You jumped at the sudden cameo of a familiar raspy voice. Yes. That's it. It's the very voice you longed to hear, even after all the confusion and frustration. 

"Jungkook.." Oh. So you've been thinking out loud. Not embarrassing at all.

"Are you gonna let me in or should I stay hanging on your balcony?" He tightens the grip around the railing, trying to stay intact.

"Shit, sorry." You finally move, grabbing his wrists, surely not helping much as he pulls up and jumps over, hands landing taut around your waist as soon as he's on ground-level.

His eyes roam around yours, spewing a thousand words through its gaze.

And her. Your heart.

She was absolutely down. Damn much.

Toppling over and crash landing in the walls trying to break out and finally run into his heart.

"Calm down you stupid little organ. I'm not affected. No, not one bit." 

You ironically smiled at him, as he raised a brow at you. Amusement written across his annoyingly good looking face.

"Stop."

"You're making me feel, Han." He spat, fierce and quiet.

"Stop this, or I might lose myself. And I'm fucking not taking myself back. Ever."

You exhaled, the anxiety slowly waving goodbye. He's playing.

"Is that so? Then hold my hand and make me yours as the world witnesses us, Jungkook. I know for a fact that nothing can change now. It’s now, or never." Both of you were deprived. It's been days since you saw him after the controversy that arose along with a few pictures of you spending time with him, all around social media.

It immediately sent your mind to overdrive, already seeing an end to the 6 month long arrangement.

But more than that, the years long friendship you shared with this man standing in front of you.

However, his eyes swam over yours, alerting you that he doesn't give a fuck. None about the media, none about your background.

He scoffs, leaning in. "The problem is,," 

He does that, for the first time in ages. He holds your chin to face him, like he used to do, back then. Now there's different emotions mixed in, with all the lust.

Love. 

"If I kissed you, now and here, I'd not be able to stop. Don't fucking expect me to."

And there, his lips fall on yours, like a missing puzzle, skin hot against each other as he eventually picks you up in the process, and puts you down, towering over once again.

The gates of hell opened once more, as he pressed open mouthed kisses next to the v-line of your body-con, on the tattoo.

He wanted your body, pressed up against his heart.  Your hands, spreading his thoughts. Gripping your love, hope and desires, cupping them with nothing but passion. Fire. You felt his soul breathing heavily against your collarbones. You felt him nibble all the un uttered thoughts onto your ears. His hopes, naked on your skin. You needed each other. In a way unexplainable for eternities to come.

happy 500 to her <3 ty mwah

BACK TO YOU

ıllı . . . . . TWIRL ME TWICE — i'll treat you like a holiday and don't say you're over me baby, it's too late ⨾༊

brief, you always seem to go back to him, what about now? starring, drummer!jk x rich f!reader tags/warnings, smut. mdni. dry humping, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m) receiving, slight degradation(?) not pronounced, oc is an entitled rich girl, and jungkook falls for her antics basically, but don't get it wrong— he craves it. usage of drums during intimate moments (he's a drummer and he's jungkook so cut me some slack HAHHA) nicknames, pov shifts (clearly mentioned), emotional push and pull, kind of slow burn, characters are messy in their own ways but everything ties together— if something is unclear, send me an ask/comment !, angst (sorry babies). word count, 6.7k love diaries music rec, "if you lie down with me" — lana del ray, "heartbreak warfare" — john mayer, the party & the after party — the weeknd note, this started as an idea from js a simple thought of mine, can't spoil rn cuz what's the fun in that,, loved writing this because i accidentally js spewed all my need for a slow burn BUT not so slow (iykyk) in here. i edited this so many times its not even funny how i hyperfixated. did i mention how obsessed i am with drummer!jk? yeah that's it.

────୨ৎ────

“1,2,3.. stop!” the man, in his mid-twenties and ginger hair, which is the only color he stuck to for about 4 months straight now, practically yells into his mic.

“Jungkook you actually have to lock in, mate. This is not doing you any good, y’know.”

“You can clearly see I’m fucking trying, Jimin. I told you I needed to step out like right now, we’ve been at this for hours.” 

Jeon Jungkook. Lead drummer, easily a handsome lad who could be mistaken for a very successful celebrity. He’s got that aura, the charm to waddle into the hearts of numerous girls and guys alike, just like he does at those tiny desk concerts— the original miniature set-ups with a lot of sweaty bodies and headbanging. 

The raw stuff. Pure music. Flatlining passion.

“ ‘kay just go take a drag or something, but remember, return back by 7. Or I’m actually going to go hunt for someone else with no hard feelings.” Jimin passes on a complacent grin to which Jungkook rolls his eyes, he knows the latter cannot evade the decade long friendship they shared, nonetheless.

Jungkook walks over to the wooden door of the cramped studio where the duo was practicing, and since this very day consisted of rumbled musings and adjusting tones of the new release because the other members of “Seom” haven’t shown up and Jimin could only get hold of his dear brother to pour sweat into the new album along with him.

“Seom”— island in Korean, grounded the boys to their Southern roots, and tied them to the strings of reverberating music, just like how water expands and ripples around an island. It was mostly Jimin’s idea, to which Jungkook agreed immediately as he wanted their essence to be a part of this whole game. 

Ping.

Classic notification beep. The message is far from the “class”, however.

[shortcake] 5.57pm fuck you.

Oh he wishes. Start of the day so hellish all he wanted to do was be balls deep inside you. 

He shifts, leaning against the tattered door frame, locking his phone, shutting out the cascade of profanities filling up in your chat. The blob of silence that followed seemed to dissolve into thin air as a puff of smoke hindered his obscure view of people bustling about through the narrow alley.

Utter contrast to where he met you for the first time.

Back to : 6 months ago.

Jungkook wisely controlled the awe-filled sounds that threatened to leave his mouth, while Jimin and Hyunjin on the other hand, straight up wow-ed at the dazzle of golden chandeliers, polite service of umpteen number of waiters and waitresses catering to every other person, cold air that refreshed the scorching heat outside this magnificent yacht as soon as their lot entered the foyer.

“We’re looking for Conference Room 3” Jungkook referred to his emails before making a request at the reception, tapping his fingers on the crafted marble desk and adjusting the instruments on his shoulders.

In the meantime he luckily notices Hyunjin slide to the left, initiating loose talk with the other receptionist, thus pulling him by the collar to the latter’s unpleasant surprise.

“I was just shootin a shot, okay?” His lack of understanding was not the mood, especially for today.

They must remain composed and professional until the band’s first official performance for a crowd with more than a 100 people came to a successful end.

There was barely time for aimless flirting and fun. This was the foremost opportunity to grab a place and set the stone for Seom.

Hundred, however, is more than a few for a birthday party. But what more could be expected from a full-fledged family of chaebols. 

“We don’t have much time, but Kook, you need to brush up a few beats before the stage. I’ll go ahead with Hyun to get the set done by then.” Jimin unpacked his guitar set and signaled Hyunjin to follow him outside to the stage area.

Finally done setting up the drums and arranging the kit, Jungkook tests it for a few beats, before flipping through the music book for a brief second to make final touches.

Click.

The door unlocks and closes, assuming it’s Jimin and Hyunjin, he continues to maneuver the stick through the booming plates of the drum.

“Y’all back already? They set up the stage for us too or did something fancy?” He passes a casual joke, unbeknownst of the fact that you were on the receiving end.

“That was quite a faulty pun, Jungkook Jeon?”

You read off of the rear of his chair that had his name on it for identification.

Perched on a personalized chair paired with such a comment rolling out so smartly didn’t sound as cute to you.

His head whipped and almost cracked, turning around at the words that flowed so elegantly, as opposed to what he was expecting.

Hands folded against your chest, slightly bunching up the fabric of the baby pink satin body-con hugging your well-built figure, doing a bad job at leaving much to one’s imagination, especially with the thin straps as sleeves.

Composed. Professional. He reminded himself.

Having seen you during the meeting where Seom was selected to set sail and perform at your birthday bash, he deemed you as a handful when you chanted numerous details into your dad’s ears and when you disagreed with most of the proposals they had for the final track list. As mentioned, fancy was the alternate last name for the Choi family.

He could deal a handful.

Or so he thought.

The damn look in your eyes. It propelled him forward, leaving the wooden seat behind, walking towards you ever so slowly but steadily. 

“Careful, pink princess. Your dress boutta get messed up, don’t want those personal butlers to curse at you.” 

The corners of your lips twitch ever so testingly. As if a single smile could give it all away.

“Were you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’? Thought we finalized the track list accordingly.” 

You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room, he watches you closely.

Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.

Coincidentally, you hear your favourite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.

With him, though? You don’t know.

Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.” 

His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.

And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter. 

You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.

Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares pretty strawberry cake with her friends.”

He leans on the backrest of the chair, with his name printed across a piece of white paper, tainting your eyes with dripping taunt.

“Can’t wait to hear it.” You spit, but surely you wanted to explore their band and music. 

“Would you give me some cake too, huh?” He slips the mockery in every fucking word with practiced ease, just like how he handles those drums.

“That doesn’t explain you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’.” You clawed at the previous question, ignoring the sly ask, genuinely curious as to why he chose that particular song minutes before an actual performance.

“Why, favorite?” He muses, flipping the book to a certain page yet again, positioning himself in front of the instrument.

“None of your business. Can you play it again?” Latter part of the sentence ever so feebly and hesitantly left your mouth as if it was tightly wound against your vocal chords, barely finding strength to be pushed out as a request. 

A wish. One that you don’t know— for the first time— would be granted. Having everything served on a platter from Day 1, this is a new deal for you. The doubt, the anticipation felt confusing to say the least. 

Seeing him steer through the papers and almost giving in to what you said, it seemed like a win.

Until it wasn’t.

“Afraid not, it’s my cue to be back on stage. That was my warmup song and I’m done.”

He sits forward, actions biting back on his words, as he looks least interested in hurrying to “be back on stage.”

“You’re literally performing for my party. It’s my crowd out there and they’d be forgiving if a drummer’s late.” Diving head first into this pointless banter was never on your agenda for today.

“Feeling entitled much?” He seemed calm, fidgeting around to pack up necessities.

“Says the one who’s owning that little wooden chair with his name on it like a throne.”

You were done. All restraints broke, a spiteful remark was nothing. None. Nada.

To your utter disbelief, it actually did nothing to him.

Jungkook finally got up from the damned chair, moving towards you and painfully looking into your eyes before gracing your ears with his raspy, raspy voice.

“Too bad, I do own my name. My own name. It’s my only throne.”

You weren’t stupid to miss the disdain laced stress on that particular word. Like he was throwing daggers at you. 

Tongue poking behind the smooth walls of your cheek, you watch him fucking leave.

His resistance to you was instantly delicious. 

Were you crazy for wanting him to be completely into you? Forget the back and forth and fall face first into the waters from a height to test your limits, when all you loved and have ever experienced was a cozy, elevating and classy cold plunge.

___

“Yeah, wine’ll do for today. You don’t wanna get too drunk.”

You nudge at Jessi, best friend, ride or die, whatever. Having known her since private kindergarten —the ones where a couple of selected children get tutored alone unlike the actual ones— she’s been a tad bit crazy, especially with alcohol and parties, as you grew up together.

“Why, you planning to get wasted and use me as your chauffeur because you can’t get your dad’s car sent?” She deadpanned, adjusting the MiuMiu purse that clung around perfectly on her honey skin.

“Spot on.” You squint your eyes at her, ridiculing, as you walk towards the venue.

“Look at herr!” Taehyung hoots in glee as you enter through the grand doors, starting a poor rendition of “It’s your birthday” as he pulls you by the hand, into the chaos.

Taehyung was the unavoidable guest at any party. He brings life with him, even if it mostly makes you question the invite.

“Guess what flavour of cake i got for your special dayy-“

Taehyung’s words blurred into the horizon as you were consumed by certain thoughts.

Kim Taehyung was no one distinct, just another man from your dad’s friends’ family who owned a bunch of inherited businesses like most of the people present in the party today.

Except the ones on stage.

The one, among them.

His name never left your mind, unusually so, because you don’t hold on.

Don’t build connections, never chain the beads of relationships with bare hands.

It always came with something.

But him?

A puzzling, faint secret.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Stop avoiding me just because I ordered strawberry shortcake, I wanted to give the new bakery a try too, now c’mon and clink clink bitch.” Tae was already tipsy and it was-

What did he just say?

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Kim fucking Taehyung. You literally took freedom for granted.” You shoot a sharp look at his red face, snapping back from the trance, but he just pouted in response.

“My bad I let you buy the damn cake, asshole.” You watch him pay no heed to you, going back to being an utmost social butterfly.

Everyone applause. 

Birthdays were not supposed to be this humiliating.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares strawberry cake with her friends.”

You recall Jungkook’s words and everything and beyond you want right now would be the ability to sink into the fucking ground.

Courtesy : Kim Taehyung because he literally made way for Jungkook’s assumptions to come to life.

He didn’t have to be so lively, y’know.

“I need another cake there, in 5 minutes.” You whisper to Jessi, but she didn’t seem to notice, eyes glued to the train of texts being exchanged with her boyfriend.

___

21 wasn’t supposed to be as humbling.

The 20 somethings were to be full of cruises through picturesque islands and a possible girls’ trip if Jessi was into it. She’d be, but you wanted it to be a bit more relentless and intriguing. 

You wanted to explore.

Maybe your wish was granted— partly— earlier than you’d please.

“Seom” as you learnt from their introduction was nothing less than a fucking wave. One to explore. To indulge in, especially the lead drummer.

Even if you’d hesitate to admit, seeing Jungkook go all out on the drums, setting a bar so high and then hitting the lows before springing back up with just the taps of two sticks and a determined mind, he looked insane. 

Sweat clinged onto his forehead, wispy stray hair falling to the sides and god the tank top.

One that didn’t go unnoticed by you during the backstage shenanigans.

The music ends with thunderous applause from the audience, and you see Jungkook reach for the mic from Jimin, clearing his throat into it before speaking.

“We really enjoyed performing here today, but there’s a special ending note I’d like to play.” He signals for the others to exit the stage, claiming it alone with undeniable presence, blasting a beat into the speakers with those damn skilled fingers. 

He was playing the background score of “Heartbreak Warfare.” 

You weren’t exactly subtle with the reactions, eyes widening as the tune grew familiar.

“He’s so fucking good at this,” Taehyung slurred from behind. “But missing only one thing.”

“— a grammy nomination.” The man looked so proud of his witticism.

His luck, you were too engrossed in how Jungkook completed the rendition with absolute perfection, doing justice to every single nuance of your favorite song.

“Do we have any of the strawberry cake left?” Your unhinged doubt in the middle of the performance— consuming the premise, and people— makes Jessi chuckle from behind.

“Weren’t you the one who made me go place an order for another one? We literally cut the chocolate cake I had to run last minute for, and this boy is damn upset.” She points at Tae, who was mindlessly chugging another shot of his alcohol, looking farthest from upset. 

“___, we’re going to the dance floor now, c’mon” Taehyung started testing the material of your dress between his sloppy fingers, trying to grab your attention like a carefree kid.

“Can you ask them to send a piece over to Seom’s green room? Meet me at the dance floor after.” Running a hand through well-set hair, you look back again— eyes catching sight of his unrelenting drive towards music that almost topples you over on those fucking louboutins— before catching up with Taehyung’s jittery steps towards the party room next door.

Jessi was cent percent sure you were on to something.

Because, one piece of cake for 3— math wasn’t tallying up right.

And you taking personal interest to have it delivered?

Weird.

__

his pov.

The trio stands around the now droopy cold, untouched piece of sweet goodness dressed in baby pink icing, as if it was about to be convicted in court.

“Whoever sent it in, they could’ve packed three more.” Jimin sulks, as if more pieces somehow equals to finding whoever this anonymous confectioner is.

“But we’re only 3 people and one’s here already, dumbass.” Hyunjin analyses the situation as though satisfying their sweet tooth is the only problem here.

“An extra piece wouldn’t hurt you right?” 

The trial about a damn piece of strawberry shortcake ceased abruptly, hanging over the edge through Jimin’s harmless remark. 

However, someone in the room seems to have attained enlightenment— precisely not so— because he was praying, hoping to whatever higher power that it wouldn’t be what he thought it was.

The conclusion was inevitable.

“I’ll be back.” Lead drummer, guides his own way to the adjacent ballroom.

It wasn’t some sort of cinematic appearance— he didn’t enter in as the prince who aimed to claim his princess.

He was a walking mess. Like a literal strained bunch of bafflement.

At your fucking audacity. 

Like you were mocking his service. His team’s hard work.

There was no way to sugarcoat it.

You were being an asshole.

And just like a rifle zeroes in on its target, Jungkook’s gaze pinpoints yours among the sea of people. He moves further, a mild hurry outlining his steps through a bunch of sweaty bodies mixed with the expensive scent, lingering on, making it easier to distinguish the crowd as ones from high-end families.

He remains aware of the surroundings— the lap of luxury sprawled out and highlighted each speck of dust around— even in the air.

Nevertheless, that was gotten rid of.

His presence of mind packs a suitcase and makes a bolt out of its abode, as soon as your eyes meet his.

As if an urgent sense of victory ziplined through, he watches you slowly bite your lip, trying to hide a smile.

Not the one that looked like a perfect crescent moon, one that radiates joy, though. Yours was synonymous to that of a fucking Cheshire Cat on a mission.

“Knew you’d come.” Your red glossy lips mouth, and he caught it amongst all.

Jungkook was furious, but he was dissolving.

It was as if an imaginary string connected the both of your bodies, the pull growing stronger by the minute.

Slow and steady, wins the race.

But his libido takes over, avoiding all the speed bumps.

And then he realized. As if it wasn’t so obvious.

He wanted you.

However, you didn’t have to know that.

___

If it was the Jungkook 30 minutes ago —who fired up from backstage to ballroom in less than 2 strides to catch hold of the fucking menace of a woman for trying to deride his performance— he would’ve laughed at the face of anyone who tried to tell him, that he was holding that very woman by the waist in the middle of a dance.

Breath.

“Your heels are about to punch a hole in my feet.” He shifts you forward so swiftly with one hand on your waist, legs finally coming alive again after 2 minutes of torturous dancing.

“Tryna hold you together, if you fall apart. I can distinguish between a good dancer and a bad one, y’know.” 

“I’m gonna leave if you keep running that mouth of yours.” He whisper-yells into your ears, above the 165 bpm party music.

His jaw twitches at the reason he’s still anchored in the same spot.

Another request. One that took flight way easier than the previous one. Your pretty mouth asked for help.

“Don’t wanna look alone in my own party. Dance?” You had asked, peeking at his anger infused red eyes 30 minutes ago, through your angel-like lashes, which had him expressing distaste, but quickly securing him behind you.

Ass pressed up against his crotch, he knew you were testing his boundaries. He knew you were careful, measured, as your hands rhythmically made its way around his neck, adhering to the beat.

His hands still around the small of your back— unsure if it was to steady you or himself.

Minx.

His hands find solace in your swaying hips, pushing you forward, trying to maintain distance.

Because this was supposed to be a nice gesture. An act of goodwill so a girl won’t feel alone on her birthday.

Why the fuck was he sporting a semi?

“You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you, shortcake?” 

This time, he didn’t have to push you away.

You sprang off, akin to how the like-poles of magnets repel.

“The fuck did you just call me?” You had to yell, some of the drunk dancers sending weird glances.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You pulled that act to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You whisper, moving closer to his ears, dragging him out, swerving through to the common restroom.

____

your pov.

“What’s all this, __?” The sudden silence echoes his deep voice throughout the entire place, making you dizzy at its amplification as opposed to the hushed noises coming from outside.

“Huh?” You pant a little, looking up at him yet again with those eyes.

He hoists you up, cold marble coming in contact with your supple, exposed thighs making you wince in the faintest voice.

“What do you think you’re doing, ___?”

His face is dangerously close. Breaths colliding.

“You played it for me, Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re kidding me, shortcake.”

He jerks back, hands placed on the table, caging you in them but it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook’s head falls next to your shoulder, barely touching as his eyes remain closed throughout.

“There’s nothing I’m joking about here, Jungkook.”

He slightly looks up, still hesitant to catch your eyes.

“I think the fuck yes. You’ve been diminishing my presence the entire night, and that whole cake situation felt embarrassing, __. In front of my fucking bandmates, I felt like nothing.”

His head falls again, as if some inner beast caught his breath, sighing.

“I don’t see a reason for that.” You shrug, in genuine confusion this time.

“Yeah you wouldn’t. Because I made the mistake of agreeing to perform here, when Jimin and Hyunjin clearly had no reason to.”

“Is it ‘cause you owe my dad?” A sly smirk creeps up into your lips, as Jungkook finds it in himself again to look at you.

“Do I have a fucking choice?”

“You should’ve thought before wandering into our territory, asking for help.” You swing your legs, still on top of the restroom table like you’re on some play-date, enjoying ice cream on a sunny Saturday.

“I needed it for survival. Seom was falling apart, and we really required that sum of money. And oh, you’re talking about Mr. Choi, the ever so generous man, huh? Your dad has put me through it even if I was a minute late to pay him back each month.”

“I can help.” 

You offer. Simple, cut through. It was always the simplest of suggestions that seemed like the end of the world.

“You? You’re holding on by a thread to your family, but except your thread— it’s made of money. Mine isn’t.”

“Bingo.”

Oh.

“Be with me for a month and I’ll help you relieve some stress. Know you need it. In return,”

You pause, meandering your vision to his, watching his expressions twist, lightly.

 “I’ll tell dad about your situation.” This was your cue to pull him closer by the ends of his tank top.

“Best believe, you think I’d be on my knees, accepting your offer right now” He tears himself apart, now fully on two feet, the distance between your bodies increasing.

"Remember the name you own that you boasted about, back there? Don't forget about the price you have to pay my dad, to uphold it." Laid-back, pausing for a moment, you could feel the gears turning in his head, back facing your frame now.

“There’s only one exit, to every entrance.” You say, as he was headed for the door, coming down from the table, you had your hands folded, yet again. 

Always the same.

The sound of his resolve snapping, was another alarming echo, as two worlds collided.

It was the answer to your proposal.

His lips taste like unadulterated need. Those roamed around yours, in a hurry, like a telltale of passion. He occasionally presses your foreheads together, taking as much as he wants before dipping in again. 

There you knew.

This was about to turn into a constant cycle. An endless war against sanity.

You, him— one heated glance, two bodies meeting to fight it.

____

Present.

his pov.

It feels quite deranged to think about.

Approximately a year ago when Seom was in the trenches, Jungkook, unbeknownst to his bandmates, found himself in front of Choi Enterprises. Even though the sum he got from your dad was useful in a way, it was hell to pay off. He handled it all alone, and wanted it to be a secret deal.

He still remembers that day, where you sat in front of him, flaunting the information like it bothers you.

He still remembers the way you thanked him.

Two simple, simple words. The ones that were taught as basic manners in school, ones which are usually ignored. 

Two words he never saw coming his way, even with years of hard work and struggle, living in small dorms and surviving off of convenience store food for a dream.

No one ever appreciated him, except the person who he least thought would.

“Thank you.”

It held the fucking weight of the world when you elicited it from your posh voice.

It took him here. Landed into this mutual succour, drove him into the heights of insanity, shared nights and whatever remnants of passion he had.

It's been six months and a few.

Yet here he is, still tangled up in need for you.

You asked him for a month, but that was just a feeble fabric to mask how you both just wanted to have a good fuck after everything going on in your lives, seeking whatever you missed.

However, Seom was on its success grind. After the storm of hardships, you did keep your promise. Continuous shows, a few sponsorships.

There were clear boundaries in this mad game of push and pull. 

It always remained a casual fuck, right after his gigs or sometimes in the closed walls of your luxurious penthouse that he thought he’d never see.

Because, you were mostly travelling, going on trips with god knows who.

He finds himself concerned about your company to these getaways, more than you’d given him the right for.

He opens up his messaging app again, briefly glancing at the time before opening your chats.

Finally.

Three dots appear, leave for a minute— not to be mistaken— as it comes back again with a bang, bringing in hot trails of new messages.

It was as if you were waiting for him to see your previous string of profanities.

[shortcake] 6:10 pm Asshole, where the fuck are you? [shortcake] 6:10 pm It’s been a week, Jungkook. Send me your location or you know I have my ways.

[jungkook] 6:11 pm I’m at the studio. Come to my room, behind. You know it.

He wondered why you didn’t bother checking in for a week, and clearly popped out of nowhere.

It’s just a casual hook-up with a rich girl who helps, sometimes. Who’s a menace, mostly.

He reminds himself, yet again.

Reality is so fucked up.

___

your pov.

You barge into the small practice room, a sense of knowing wrapping around you, ‘cause you’ve fucked almost everywhere at this point. It’s filthy, but it somehow keeps you together.

There was not a living soul here.

Huh.

“Shortcake?”

Honey coated voice— the one you hadn't heard for almost a week— engulfs you, heating you up like molten lava.

You simply walk over, throwing your bag on his couch, now acting as if the entire place’s yours, before piercing on the stool behind the drums.

“Where were you?” He casually sets up the aircon, closing the door as if he knew what’d happen any moment from now.

“Not your business. But guess.” You extend your hands, flaunting a set of rings made of sea-shells.

“Maldives? You went on tour again?” He asks, placing your tender fingers on his, examining the rings before abruptly taking them off.

“The fuck are you doing?!” You round up, trying to get hold of one of your favorite pieces.

“This’d look good in our studio. We’re sea themed, and I’m starting to think you got these for me.”

“You fucking wish, Jeon. Give. them. back.” You try to reach for his hands behind his back, slightly urging the both of you to the walls behind, but he wouldn't budge.

And then he does.

He turns around, crashing his lips on yours in a frantic kiss, pushing you against the walls, hands still holding your rings behind his back. Clutching together.

Your hands free run to his face, bringing him impossibly closer.

Somehow, his lips roaming around yours, pacing back and forth between consuming your edged gasps, felt like the end  of something.

You can’t pinpoint what, though.

Standing tall, head straight to catch a breath, he throws your damned rings off.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Especially when you have him, diving down again to catch your lips in his, running tongue through its seams, ever so furiously.

“Fuck, you’re even better after each trip, __.”

The contempt tastes bitter on your freshly patched up lips.

You knew he didn't mean that.

Last week, before Maldives, you parted ways after a fiery argument about your 'big girl adventures' like he called them.

All it took was you to post a picture with your dad's friend's son, Minho.

He’s about to kiss you again, when those freshly done nails of yours press lightly against his chest, halting the actions.

“Go sit there for me, Jungkook.” You muse into his ears, pointing at the stool behind his instrument.

“Why do you have such a thing for those drums? Hm, shortcake?" His demeanor seemed out of track, eyes blazing into yours.

He’s always been vocal about what he wanted, the clear boundaries and whatnot. But today was in your hands.

You pull him forward, pushing his chest, forcefully getting him to sit on that little chair.

And the next thing you do, takes his breath away. Snatches it, visibly.

You sit on his lap, legs wrapping ‘round his torso— his hands instinctively moving to your hips, holding you in place.

“Your hair has grown so much, kook.” You scramble about, untying your own silky locks that cascade down, bringing the piece of hair tie to his wavy ones that fell ever so prettily over his forehead, arching your chest into his face in the process of crafting a man bun.

You could figure out his fucked up state under you, but the coherence lasts no longer than a second as his mouth envelopes your hardened nipples, from over your flimsy skims top, the friction sending a zap of electricity through you.

“Wearing nothing underneath, you’re always so planned, huh?”

He goes back, trailing slight kisses around your smooth, buttered up neck, grazing the one spot he knew would send you in spirals, as soon as you finish tying his hair up.

“Uh-huh, wanna see you.” You bring him up, his forehead displayed, skin shining under the lights that illuminate the room.

“Hmm, proud of myself.” You grin, as he pushes you forward, hastily, that makes you helplessly choke out a moan.

Because, he’s already hard, and amidst all of this, you’d almost forgotten the purpose of this visit.

“Show me more things that you’d be proud of, shortcake.”

He guides you again, folds delicately parting at the feeling of his hard on, hidden behind the slacks.

Stupid pants.

“Off. I need these off.” He lets you pull down the sweats, catching you off guard after, by stopping you with a grip on the wrists. 

“Don’t have much time. Just— fuck— just sit on me, okay?” 

Oh.

You inch forth, capturing the supple skin of his neck, sucking on it gently, and you swear he elicits a deep guttural sound that you’re so used to, but he pulls you back by the forearm, halting your actions.

“What is it now?” You roll your eyes, clearly tired of the way he stops you at every fucking step.

“Don’t leave marks, __. I’m serious.” His eyes mirror red-hot warning, which provoked your otherwise vague intentions of actually giving him a hickey.

But all you do is move on his growing hard-on, desperately, because,

Fuck trying to work him up when you can clearly see him snaking into your arms, your actions.

His hands fly to your hips, holding them against his own yet again as you set a rhythm with this entire thing, whatever the fuck it was— it was sure getting him riled up beneath you.

“Fuck, yes- sshit- just like that, shortcake.” He groans into your ears, hands frantically tugging down the white skims top to finally reveal your bosoms. He presses a light kiss to the very ends of your nipples that pebbles under the cold air of the room, making you hiss into his ears at the sensation, head falling back as your torso never fails to ride into his.

You could see how close he was, with just a look at his outline pressing ever so deliciously into the tight Calvin Klein's you were sitting on— claiming as yours with every stroke of friction felt in between your thighs.

“Just fucking want my- goddamn- performance to get over so that I can fuck you backstage, angel.”

Your stomach tightens at the idea, strings of what could be his name, and a few profanities slipping out of your mouth.

“You want someone to catch us, don’t you?” His doe eyes look up at your figure on his, and you just dip down in response, sucking on his neck again, purposefully leaving a dark, purple mark on it.

Maybe, you wanna see him mad.

“Fuck, __. You can never stop being a brat and listen to me for once.” You were achingly close to snapping that knot coiling in the pit of your stomach, the traction from the rough fabric of his boxers giving you life, just about to send you over the peak.

 But he just— as cruelly yanks you off his lap.

“Down. On your knees now.” He gets up, pulling his tee away from his body with just one hand.

This shouldn’t be turning you on.

But it was, so you do.

Drop down on your knees, behind the fucking drums, your frame hidden behind. 

The thought of someone barging in at the sight of Jungkook and you behind, seemed so enticing to you, but it vanishes as soon as it takes form, when the man right in front of you, grabs your open hair tightly in a pony-tail, before you could even pull them boxers down and take him in your grip.

“You’re not gonna utter a word, and do as I say.”

You look at him through lidded eyes, too far gone to even retort now.

“Use your mouth, __.” He spills out your full name, and that means it's done. Your part is over.

“Yes.” You state simply, his face contorting in amusement, before pulling his boxers down just enough for his fully hard cock to come up.

However, he was wrong, in thinking he had the full advantage of being the upper hand.

“What happened to having no time, baby?” You huff, too fast to let him catch the tone, before taking his tip in your glossy mouth, and all that came out from him in response was a lucid groan. 

You knew he wanted to curse at you, sputter pure despise at your audacity to ignore his words. 

Best part is, you also knew what your mouth did to him.

Something that sounded like a hushed out moan rumbled out of him, as he pulled your hair, guiding you well.

“Fuck, you love taking me, don’t you? Filthy girl doing so well for me.” He seems to have entirely forgotten your words amidst the mirage of pleasure your mouth enveloped him in.

“Can you look at me, __?” He sputters, hands hovering over your glossy cheeks, hollowed out around his cock.

He lets go of your hair, brushing it to the side and tucking it behind your ears, the blazing pull that burnt your scalp deliciously all along, finally coming to rest. 

His voice was gentle, the one you could feel everywhere, so you continued, without adhering to his wish.

Because, you were taken aback by the soft call.

Terrified.

What happened to the harsh monotony he put through minutes ago?

The sting on your scalp hasn't fully died out, yet.

How the hell did things transition so quickly?

Like he had a mid-sex awakening, purely due to some blood flow issues?

Hormones?

Focus, __. Your hands presses on the muscular flesh of his upper thigh, as movements grow confident around his cock, slightly stroking the base with your fingers now and then, teasing, the jerk of his hips against you so sudden, you mumble a hushed fuck that travels all the way up his breaking point.

“Yyes- ffuck- shortcake do you not hear me? Look up at me, __.” He forces your chin up, as your eyes follow his face, contorting in gleaming pleasure.

“You’re so f- pretty nghh-” Those sounds. Desperate and splintered.

“I’m c- god fuck, where do y’want me, shortcake nghh-” He makes the prettiest sounds, sure, but you were still dazed.

“Wherever.” Your blunt response caught him off-guard, as he slowly pulled out, his own hands taking over, desperately and rushed.

“I’m- fu- shortcake, you’re gonna be the end- ssshit- of me” He snaps, like its been forever, cumming so fucking hard, as it leaks onto your chin that he’s still got a hold of. 

At one point, he’s gasping, panting, riding his high like it’s the last time, stamina completely thrown off.

But the next minute, his hands are on your forearms, nudging you up, manhandling, imposing, lifting you up by the waist with the ease of his tatted arms, onto his drums.

Your ass presses far too much onto the rim of the drum pad, its nuances nudging your soft flesh as he clings his body onto yours.

“What the fuck was the attitude you gave me, __?” He rasps, bold and unrelenting into your face. 

“I’m leaving today.” You say in a breath, wanting to close your eyes and hide from his questions that you knew would follow after.

“You were the one who texted me, called me and came in here. Now you’re leaving? Is it because of the trust fund baby you posted last day? Minho?” He speaks into the afterglow that glistened your face, the lights more brighter as the evening transitioned into the fall of night.

“I won’t come to your concert this week.” You just keep on spewing these sentences, knowing that he’d get mad, but it was inevitable.

He pushes away, the sudden loss of proximity and warmth almost propelling your body forward to chase it again, but you control.

“I’ll use your restroom, yeah?” You grab the bag and rings that lay forgotten.

His lack of response was definitely novel, but you don’t dwell.

Jungkook plops down on the couch, hands slowly untying the man bun that knotted his hair tightly, ruffling the now free curls, raking his palms slowly through them.

You come back, hands washed and freshened up, seeing him sprawled out on the couch.

Those lingering moments and conversations weren't a part of the deal. As much as you wanted to explain— how you had to urgently leave for London and why you're missing his concert— the way his features softened during sex, while he had you on him, all over and consuming.

That was new.

Bemusing.

You wanted to say anything, really.

But what was there to tell him, that doesn't sound like a goodbye now?

So, you quietly gather your things— the only things filling up the space being the hum of the aircon and the sofa creaking with his legs shaking in somewhat an anxious tone— and leave the studio.

────୨ৎ────

note, endingment and all who am i lmao BUT

part two?

the post oc made with minho here

────୨ৎ────

. . . . 'Cause people believe that they're gonna get away for the summer . . . .

𓇼 ˚𓆝 ⋆｡𓆟 ⋆｡𓆞˚ 𓇼

⎙ He was the still wave among the chaotic ripping tides— one that anchored youduring that unforgettable visit to your grandma's beach house— now on the verge of being sold.

Loaded with the responsibilities and emotions of spending the last week in Jeju, — will the new relationships and memories turn into something more, or will they just turn into bittersweet echoes of that one summer miles away from home.

𓇼 ˚𓆝 ⋆｡𓆟 ⋆｡𓆞˚ 𓇼

pairing, surfer!jungkook x f!reader tags/warnings, reader has had strict parents and this is her first time experiencing something alone— fully under her control, he is a surfer and owns a little shop for tourists who wants to explore the beach, a whole summer-beach house-fling kind of setting, fluff, smut, angst— the unavoidable trifecta, the characters do have some base-level lore too, longfic [series] note, this is the ultimate result of me listening to like a set of 4 songs ON REPEAT like it was a necessity, linking a playlist soon below, this is going to come out only on may but i couldn't wait to share a snippet of this scene i was working on literally at 2 am in the morning because i couldn't sleep. yeah call me productive. moodboard

love diaries music rec,

𓇼 ˚𓆝 ⋆｡𓆟 ⋆｡𓆞˚ 𓇼

teaser wc: 482

The waves ripple, gently caressing your bare feet, like a timid reminder about what you’re about to get yourself into on a random Saturday morning.

It does not feel all that haphazard though— seeing Jungkook knelt down in front, waxing the surfboard— the coconutty whiff of its scent soothes your senses for at least a moment before going full-on panic mode again.

“I don’t think today’s weather’s the best one for surfing, Matty you agree right?” you caress Matilda’s velvety muzzle as she barked in glee, jumping around the sand.

“She fully disagrees, c’mere” He looks up from the board, patting his upper thigh as you tilt your head in confusion.

“You need some feet gear, I’ll help.” He casually offers as if this happened on a daily— the way it rolled off his tongue so easily as he ran a hand behind his suit to dust it off of extra sand.

Nothing about this situation was routinely.

It was astounding how, in this very beach your grandma once adored so much, you were about to take leaps of faith and courage, experiencing completely new things way out of your comfort zone.

Jungkook crouches down, palms holding your bare feet now about to be clad in literal surfing gear, as he helps you into them with practiced ease.

“All set?” He comes up, a light smile spread across his face, taking a double look at your figure wrapped in the wetsuit rented from his own small beachside shop.

“Yeah, I’m literally about to set records— just me and my little surfboard.” Even the tiniest attempts to lighten the knot in your stomach and breath caught too hard in the middle of your throat, were in vain.

“Sure, set as many as you want, but I’ll deserve partial credit.” He catches a hold of your shoulder, maneuvering towards the board.

“What if I say you get full credit? Can I go back home? Matty might be hungry.” You fret in his arms, but he holds you still.

“Woah what happened to the bravery from minutes ago?” Jungkook’s hands come round your waist and all that you feel are the points of contact between your skin even through the thick material of the suits. He anchors you forth, steadying the surfboard under your feet.

“I’ve given you enough dryland training and you said you swim? You’re fine, __.” 

“But Matty-”

“She’s with Tae, I’m here with you. Let’s go?” Those words did calm you down more than you’d admit.

The humidity gets to your face quickly, gathering up a bright sheen on your skin.

No, you’re not sweating, obviously not.

It definitely has nothing to do with the vast expanse of waters laying free, welcoming you in with a warning. Fear. 

The initial inhibition was gnawing at your insides.

However, you feel his secure stance behind, and that was finally convincing enough for you to take the next step.

“I’m ready, Jungkook.”

𓇼 ˚𓆝 ⋆｡𓆟 ⋆｡𓆞˚ 𓇼

please visit this post to be a part of my taglist! lots of love <33

please don't change

— 𐙚˙✧˖° MASTERPOST

when that one senior you met in med school— when life felt like a suffocation, a heartbeat too loud in your ears— unknowingly became a part of your daily. he was supposed to feel intimidating, unapproachable. but oh was he the total opposite.

those fleeting moments, the unsaid efforts are now tangled in between your friendship that's just about to make a 180 turn.

they say, change is the only constant but what if you want to be the variable to that equation?

starring, dental surgeon!jk, intern f!reader category, written, situationship (?) au, fluff, smut, angst (teeny bit), senior-junior friendship that kinda spirals. note, this was purely intuitive because i wanted to start something lighthearted and fun, but then kinda lost track and now i want it to be a whole series, so we'll see where it goes ig. updates, might be slow/vary this month but soon will get consistent ! taglist, comment on this post/send me an ask with your username to be added ! [TAGLIST STATUS : OPEN.]

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙

INDEX :

entry 01 : handlebars

more soon. . .

BACK TO YOU ⋆ 전정국

ıllı . . . . . TWIRL ME TWICE — i'll treat you like a holiday and don't say you're over me baby, it's too late ⨾༊

brief, you always seem to go back to him, what about now? starring, drummer!jk x rich f!reader tags/warnings, smut. mdni. dry humping, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m) receiving, slight degradation(?) not pronounced, oc is an entitled rich girl, and jungkook falls for her antics basically, but don't get it wrong— he craves it. usage of drums during intimate moments (he's a drummer and he's jungkook so cut me some slack HAHHA) nicknames, pov shifts (clearly mentioned), emotional push and pull, kind of slow burn, characters are messy in their own ways but everything ties together— if something is unclear, send me an ask/comment !, angst (sorry babies). word count, 6.7k love diaries music rec, "if you lie down with me" — lana del ray, "heartbreak warfare" — john mayer, the party & the after party — the weeknd note, this started as an idea from js a simple thought of mine, can't spoil rn cuz what's the fun in that,, loved writing this because i accidentally js spewed all my need for a slow burn BUT not so slow (iykyk) in here. i edited this so many times its not even funny how i hyperfixated. did i mention how obsessed i am with drummer!jk? yeah that's it.

────୨ৎ────

“1,2,3.. stop!” the man, in his mid-twenties and ginger hair, which is the only color he stuck to for about 4 months straight now, practically yells into his mic.

“Jungkook you actually have to lock in, mate. This is not doing you any good, y’know.”

“You can clearly see I’m fucking trying, Jimin. I told you I needed to step out like right now, we’ve been at this for hours.” 

Jeon Jungkook. Lead drummer, easily a handsome lad who could be mistaken for a very successful celebrity. He’s got that aura, the charm to waddle into the hearts of numerous girls and guys alike, just like he does at those tiny desk concerts— the original miniature set-ups with a lot of sweaty bodies and headbanging. 

The raw stuff. Pure music. Flatlining passion.

“ ‘kay just go take a drag or something, but remember, return back by 7. Or I’m actually going to go hunt for someone else with no hard feelings.” Jimin passes on a complacent grin to which Jungkook rolls his eyes, he knows the latter cannot evade the decade long friendship they shared, nonetheless.

Jungkook walks over to the wooden door of the cramped studio where the duo was practicing, and since this very day consisted of rumbled musings and adjusting tones of the new release because the other members of “Seom” haven’t shown up and Jimin could only get hold of his dear brother to pour sweat into the new album along with him.

“Seom”— island in Korean, grounded the boys to their Southern roots, and tied them to the strings of reverberating music, just like how water expands and ripples around an island. It was mostly Jimin’s idea, to which Jungkook agreed immediately as he wanted their essence to be a part of this whole game. 

Ping.

Classic notification beep. The message is far from the “class”, however.

[shortcake] 5.57pm fuck you.

Oh he wishes. Start of the day so hellish all he wanted to do was be balls deep inside you. 

He shifts, leaning against the tattered door frame, locking his phone, shutting out the cascade of profanities filling up in your chat. The blob of silence that followed seemed to dissolve into thin air as a puff of smoke hindered his obscure view of people bustling about through the narrow alley.

Utter contrast to where he met you for the first time.

Back to : 6 months ago.

Jungkook wisely controlled the awe-filled sounds that threatened to leave his mouth, while Jimin and Hyunjin on the other hand, straight up wow-ed at the dazzle of golden chandeliers, polite service of umpteen number of waiters and waitresses catering to every other person, cold air that refreshed the scorching heat outside this magnificent yacht as soon as their lot entered the foyer.

“We’re looking for Conference Room 3” Jungkook referred to his emails before making a request at the reception, tapping his fingers on the crafted marble desk and adjusting the instruments on his shoulders.

In the meantime he luckily notices Hyunjin slide to the left, initiating loose talk with the other receptionist, thus pulling him by the collar to the latter’s unpleasant surprise.

“I was just shootin a shot, okay?” His lack of understanding was not the mood, especially for today.

They must remain composed and professional until the band’s first official performance for a crowd with more than a 100 people came to a successful end.

There was barely time for aimless flirting and fun. This was the foremost opportunity to grab a place and set the stone for Seom.

Hundred, however, is more than a few for a birthday party. But what more could be expected from a full-fledged family of chaebols. 

“We don’t have much time, but Kook, you need to brush up a few beats before the stage. I’ll go ahead with Hyun to get the set done by then.” Jimin unpacked his guitar set and signaled Hyunjin to follow him outside to the stage area.

Finally done setting up the drums and arranging the kit, Jungkook tests it for a few beats, before flipping through the music book for a brief second to make final touches.

Click.

The door unlocks and closes, assuming it’s Jimin and Hyunjin, he continues to maneuver the stick through the booming plates of the drum.

“Y’all back already? They set up the stage for us too or did something fancy?” He passes a casual joke, unbeknownst of the fact that you were on the receiving end.

“That was quite a faulty pun, Jungkook Jeon?”

You read off of the rear of his chair that had his name on it for identification.

Perched on a personalized chair paired with such a comment rolling out so smartly didn’t sound as cute to you.

His head whipped and almost cracked, turning around at the words that flowed so elegantly, as opposed to what he was expecting.

Hands folded against your chest, slightly bunching up the fabric of the baby pink satin body-con hugging your well-built figure, doing a bad job at leaving much to one’s imagination, especially with the thin straps as sleeves.

Composed. Professional. He reminded himself.

Having seen you during the meeting where Seom was selected to set sail and perform at your birthday bash, he deemed you as a handful when you chanted numerous details into your dad’s ears and when you disagreed with most of the proposals they had for the final track list. As mentioned, fancy was the alternate last name for the Choi family.

He could deal a handful.

Or so he thought.

The damn look in your eyes. It propelled him forward, leaving the wooden seat behind, walking towards you ever so slowly but steadily. 

“Careful, pink princess. Your dress boutta get messed up, don’t want those personal butlers to curse at you.” 

The corners of your lips twitch ever so testingly. As if a single smile could give it all away.

“Were you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’? Thought we finalized the track list accordingly.” 

You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room, he watches you closely.

Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.

Coincidentally, you hear your favourite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.

With him, though? You don’t know.

Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.” 

His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.

And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter. 

You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.

Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares pretty strawberry cake with her friends.”

He leans on the backrest of the chair, with his name printed across a piece of white paper, tainting your eyes with dripping taunt.

“Can’t wait to hear it.” You spit, but surely you wanted to explore their band and music. 

“Would you give me some cake too, huh?” He slips the mockery in every fucking word with practiced ease, just like how he handles those drums.

“That doesn’t explain you playing ‘Heartbreak Warfare’.” You clawed at the previous question, ignoring the sly ask, genuinely curious as to why he chose that particular song minutes before an actual performance.

“Why, favorite?” He muses, flipping the book to a certain page yet again, positioning himself in front of the instrument.

“None of your business. Can you play it again?” Latter part of the sentence ever so feebly and hesitantly left your mouth as if it was tightly wound against your vocal chords, barely finding strength to be pushed out as a request. 

A wish. One that you don’t know— for the first time— would be granted. Having everything served on a platter from Day 1, this is a new deal for you. The doubt, the anticipation felt confusing to say the least. 

Seeing him steer through the papers and almost giving in to what you said, it seemed like a win.

Until it wasn’t.

“Afraid not, it’s my cue to be back on stage. That was my warmup song and I’m done.”

He sits forward, actions biting back on his words, as he looks least interested in hurrying to “be back on stage.”

“You’re literally performing for my party. It’s my crowd out there and they’d be forgiving if a drummer’s late.” Diving head first into this pointless banter was never on your agenda for today.

“Feeling entitled much?” He seemed calm, fidgeting around to pack up necessities.

“Says the one who’s owning that little wooden chair with his name on it like a throne.”

You were done. All restraints broke, a spiteful remark was nothing. None. Nada.

To your utter disbelief, it actually did nothing to him.

Jungkook finally got up from the damned chair, moving towards you and painfully looking into your eyes before gracing your ears with his raspy, raspy voice.

“Too bad, I do own my name. My own name. It’s my only throne.”

You weren’t stupid to miss the disdain laced stress on that particular word. Like he was throwing daggers at you. 

Tongue poking behind the smooth walls of your cheek, you watch him fucking leave.

His resistance to you was instantly delicious. 

Were you crazy for wanting him to be completely into you? Forget the back and forth and fall face first into the waters from a height to test your limits, when all you loved and have ever experienced was a cozy, elevating and classy cold plunge.

___

“Yeah, wine’ll do for today. You don’t wanna get too drunk.”

You nudge at Jessi, best friend, ride or die, whatever. Having known her since private kindergarten —the ones where a couple of selected children get tutored alone unlike the actual ones— she’s been a tad bit crazy, especially with alcohol and parties, as you grew up together.

“Why, you planning to get wasted and use me as your chauffeur because you can’t get your dad’s car sent?” She deadpanned, adjusting the MiuMiu purse that clung around perfectly on her honey skin.

“Spot on.” You squint your eyes at her, ridiculing, as you walk towards the venue.

“Look at herr!” Taehyung hoots in glee as you enter through the grand doors, starting a poor rendition of “It’s your birthday” as he pulls you by the hand, into the chaos.

Taehyung was the unavoidable guest at any party. He brings life with him, even if it mostly makes you question the invite.

“Guess what flavour of cake i got for your special dayy-“

Taehyung’s words blurred into the horizon as you were consumed by certain thoughts.

Kim Taehyung was no one distinct, just another man from your dad’s friends’ family who owned a bunch of inherited businesses like most of the people present in the party today.

Except the ones on stage.

The one, among them.

His name never left your mind, unusually so, because you don’t hold on.

Don’t build connections, never chain the beads of relationships with bare hands.

It always came with something.

But him?

A puzzling, faint secret.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Stop avoiding me just because I ordered strawberry shortcake, I wanted to give the new bakery a try too, now c’mon and clink clink bitch.” Tae was already tipsy and it was-

What did he just say?

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Kim fucking Taehyung. You literally took freedom for granted.” You shoot a sharp look at his red face, snapping back from the trance, but he just pouted in response.

“My bad I let you buy the damn cake, asshole.” You watch him pay no heed to you, going back to being an utmost social butterfly.

Everyone applause. 

Birthdays were not supposed to be this humiliating.

“Lined up our songs for princess’ birthday while she shares strawberry cake with her friends.”

You recall Jungkook’s words and everything and beyond you want right now would be the ability to sink into the fucking ground.

Courtesy : Kim Taehyung because he literally made way for Jungkook’s assumptions to come to life.

He didn’t have to be so lively, y’know.

“I need another cake there, in 5 minutes.” You whisper to Jessi, but she didn’t seem to notice, eyes glued to the train of texts being exchanged with her boyfriend.

___

21 wasn’t supposed to be as humbling.

The 20 somethings were to be full of cruises through picturesque islands and a possible girls’ trip if Jessi was into it. She’d be, but you wanted it to be a bit more relentless and intriguing. 

You wanted to explore.

Maybe your wish was granted— partly— earlier than you’d please.

“Seom” as you learnt from their introduction was nothing less than a fucking wave. One to explore. To indulge in, especially the lead drummer.

Even if you’d hesitate to admit, seeing Jungkook go all out on the drums, setting a bar so high and then hitting the lows before springing back up with just the taps of two sticks and a determined mind, he looked insane. 

Sweat clinged onto his forehead, wispy stray hair falling to the sides and god the tank top.

One that didn’t go unnoticed by you during the backstage shenanigans.

The music ends with thunderous applause from the audience, and you see Jungkook reach for the mic from Jimin, clearing his throat into it before speaking.

“We really enjoyed performing here today, but there’s a special ending note I’d like to play.” He signals for the others to exit the stage, claiming it alone with undeniable presence, blasting a beat into the speakers with those damn skilled fingers. 

He was playing the background score of “Heartbreak Warfare.” 

You weren’t exactly subtle with the reactions, eyes widening as the tune grew familiar.

“He’s so fucking good at this,” Taehyung slurred from behind. “But missing only one thing.”

“— a grammy nomination.” The man looked so proud of his witticism.

His luck, you were too engrossed in how Jungkook completed the rendition with absolute perfection, doing justice to every single nuance of your favorite song.

“Do we have any of the strawberry cake left?” Your unhinged doubt in the middle of the performance— consuming the premise, and people— makes Jessi chuckle from behind.

“Weren’t you the one who made me go place an order for another one? We literally cut the chocolate cake I had to run last minute for, and this boy is damn upset.” She points at Tae, who was mindlessly chugging another shot of his alcohol, looking farthest from upset. 

“___, we’re going to the dance floor now, c’mon” Taehyung started testing the material of your dress between his sloppy fingers, trying to grab your attention like a carefree kid.

“Can you ask them to send a piece over to Seom’s green room? Meet me at the dance floor after.” Running a hand through well-set hair, you look back again— eyes catching sight of his unrelenting drive towards music that almost topples you over on those fucking louboutins— before catching up with Taehyung’s jittery steps towards the party room next door.

Jessi was cent percent sure you were on to something.

Because, one piece of cake for 3— math wasn’t tallying up right.

And you taking personal interest to have it delivered?

Weird.

__

his pov.

The trio stands around the now droopy cold, untouched piece of sweet goodness dressed in baby pink icing, as if it was about to be convicted in court.

“Whoever sent it in, they could’ve packed three more.” Jimin sulks, as if more pieces somehow equals to finding whoever this anonymous confectioner is.

“But we’re only 3 people and one’s here already, dumbass.” Hyunjin analyses the situation as though satisfying their sweet tooth is the only problem here.

“An extra piece wouldn’t hurt you right?” 

The trial about a damn piece of strawberry shortcake ceased abruptly, hanging over the edge through Jimin’s harmless remark. 

However, someone in the room seems to have attained enlightenment— precisely not so— because he was praying, hoping to whatever higher power that it wouldn’t be what he thought it was.

The conclusion was inevitable.

“I’ll be back.” Lead drummer, guides his own way to the adjacent ballroom.

It wasn’t some sort of cinematic appearance— he didn’t enter in as the prince who aimed to claim his princess.

He was a walking mess. Like a literal strained bunch of bafflement.

At your fucking audacity. 

Like you were mocking his service. His team’s hard work.

There was no way to sugarcoat it.

You were being an asshole.

And just like a rifle zeroes in on its target, Jungkook’s gaze pinpoints yours among the sea of people. He moves further, a mild hurry outlining his steps through a bunch of sweaty bodies mixed with the expensive scent, lingering on, making it easier to distinguish the crowd as ones from high-end families.

He remains aware of the surroundings— the lap of luxury sprawled out and highlighted each speck of dust around— even in the air.

Nevertheless, that was gotten rid of.

His presence of mind packs a suitcase and makes a bolt out of its abode, as soon as your eyes meet his.

As if an urgent sense of victory ziplined through, he watches you slowly bite your lip, trying to hide a smile.

Not the one that looked like a perfect crescent moon, one that radiates joy, though. Yours was synonymous to that of a fucking Cheshire Cat on a mission.

“Knew you’d come.” Your red glossy lips mouth, and he caught it amongst all.

Jungkook was furious, but he was dissolving.

It was as if an imaginary string connected the both of your bodies, the pull growing stronger by the minute.

Slow and steady, wins the race.

But his libido takes over, avoiding all the speed bumps.

And then he realized. As if it wasn’t so obvious.

He wanted you.

However, you didn’t have to know that.

___

If it was the Jungkook 30 minutes ago —who fired up from backstage to ballroom in less than 2 strides to catch hold of the fucking menace of a woman for trying to deride his performance— he would’ve laughed at the face of anyone who tried to tell him, that he was holding that very woman by the waist in the middle of a dance.

Breath.

“Your heels are about to punch a hole in my feet.” He shifts you forward so swiftly with one hand on your waist, legs finally coming alive again after 2 minutes of torturous dancing.

“Tryna hold you together, if you fall apart. I can distinguish between a good dancer and a bad one, y’know.” 

“I’m gonna leave if you keep running that mouth of yours.” He whisper-yells into your ears, above the 165 bpm party music.

His jaw twitches at the reason he’s still anchored in the same spot.

Another request. One that took flight way easier than the previous one. Your pretty mouth asked for help.

“Don’t wanna look alone in my own party. Dance?” You had asked, peeking at his anger infused red eyes 30 minutes ago, through your angel-like lashes, which had him expressing distaste, but quickly securing him behind you.

Ass pressed up against his crotch, he knew you were testing his boundaries. He knew you were careful, measured, as your hands rhythmically made its way around his neck, adhering to the beat.

His hands still around the small of your back— unsure if it was to steady you or himself.

Minx.

His hands find solace in your swaying hips, pushing you forward, trying to maintain distance.

Because this was supposed to be a nice gesture. An act of goodwill so a girl won’t feel alone on her birthday.

Why the fuck was he sporting a semi?

“You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you, shortcake?” 

This time, he didn’t have to push you away.

You sprang off, akin to how the like-poles of magnets repel.

“The fuck did you just call me?” You had to yell, some of the drunk dancers sending weird glances.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You pulled that act to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You whisper, moving closer to his ears, dragging him out, swerving through to the common restroom.

____

your pov.

“What’s all this, __?” The sudden silence echoes his deep voice throughout the entire place, making you dizzy at its amplification as opposed to the hushed noises coming from outside.

“Huh?” You pant a little, looking up at him yet again with those eyes.

He hoists you up, cold marble coming in contact with your supple, exposed thighs making you wince in the faintest voice.

“What do you think you’re doing, ___?”

His face is dangerously close. Breaths colliding.

“You played it for me, Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re kidding me, shortcake.”

He jerks back, hands placed on the table, caging you in them but it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook’s head falls next to your shoulder, barely touching as his eyes remain closed throughout.

“There’s nothing I’m joking about here, Jungkook.”

He slightly looks up, still hesitant to catch your eyes.

“I think the fuck yes. You’ve been diminishing my presence the entire night, and that whole cake situation felt embarrassing, __. In front of my fucking bandmates, I felt like nothing.”

His head falls again, as if some inner beast caught his breath, sighing.

“I don’t see a reason for that.” You shrug, in genuine confusion this time.

“Yeah you wouldn’t. Because I made the mistake of agreeing to perform here, when Jimin and Hyunjin clearly had no reason to.”

“Is it ‘cause you owe my dad?” A sly smirk creeps up into your lips, as Jungkook finds it in himself again to look at you.

“Do I have a fucking choice?”

“You should’ve thought before wandering into our territory, asking for help.” You swing your legs, still on top of the restroom table like you’re on some play-date, enjoying ice cream on a sunny Saturday.

“I needed it for survival. Seom was falling apart, and we really required that sum of money. And oh, you’re talking about Mr. Choi, the ever so generous man, huh? Your dad has put me through it even if I was a minute late to pay him back each month.”

“I can help.” 

You offer. Simple, cut through. It was always the simplest of suggestions that seemed like the end of the world.

“You? You’re holding on by a thread to your family, but except your thread— it’s made of money. Mine isn’t.”

“Bingo.”

Oh.

“Be with me for a month and I’ll help you relieve some stress. Know you need it. In return,”

You pause, meandering your vision to his, watching his expressions twist, lightly.

 “I’ll tell dad about your situation.” This was your cue to pull him closer by the ends of his tank top.

“Best believe, you think I’d be on my knees, accepting your offer right now” He tears himself apart, now fully on two feet, the distance between your bodies increasing.

"Remember the name you own that you boasted about, back there? Don't forget about the price you have to pay my dad, to uphold it." Laid-back, pausing for a moment, you could feel the gears turning in his head, back facing your frame now.

“There’s only one exit, to every entrance.” You say, as he was headed for the door, coming down from the table, you had your hands folded, yet again. 

Always the same.

The sound of his resolve snapping, was another alarming echo, as two worlds collided.

It was the answer to your proposal.

His lips taste like unadulterated need. Those roamed around yours, in a hurry, like a telltale of passion. He occasionally presses your foreheads together, taking as much as he wants before dipping in again. 

There you knew.

This was about to turn into a constant cycle. An endless war against sanity.

You, him— one heated glance, two bodies meeting to fight it.

____

Present.

his pov.

It feels quite deranged to think about.

Approximately a year ago when Seom was in the trenches, Jungkook, unbeknownst to his bandmates, found himself in front of Choi Enterprises. Even though the sum he got from your dad was useful in a way, it was hell to pay off. He handled it all alone, and wanted it to be a secret deal.

He still remembers that day, where you sat in front of him, flaunting the information like it bothers you.

He still remembers the way you thanked him.

Two simple, simple words. The ones that were taught as basic manners in school, ones which are usually ignored. 

Two words he never saw coming his way, even with years of hard work and struggle, living in small dorms and surviving off of convenience store food for a dream.

No one ever appreciated him, except the person who he least thought would.

“Thank you.”

It held the fucking weight of the world when you elicited it from your posh voice.

It took him here. Landed into this mutual succour, drove him into the heights of insanity, shared nights and whatever remnants of passion he had.

It's been six months and a few.

Yet here he is, still tangled up in need for you.

You asked him for a month, but that was just a feeble fabric to mask how you both just wanted to have a good fuck after everything going on in your lives, seeking whatever you missed.

However, Seom was on its success grind. After the storm of hardships, you did keep your promise. Continuous shows, a few sponsorships.

There were clear boundaries in this mad game of push and pull. 

It always remained a casual fuck, right after his gigs or sometimes in the closed walls of your luxurious penthouse that he thought he’d never see.

Because, you were mostly travelling, going on trips with god knows who.

He finds himself concerned about your company to these getaways, more than you’d given him the right for.

He opens up his messaging app again, briefly glancing at the time before opening your chats.

Finally.

Three dots appear, leave for a minute— not to be mistaken— as it comes back again with a bang, bringing in hot trails of new messages.

It was as if you were waiting for him to see your previous string of profanities.

[shortcake] 6:10 pm Asshole, where the fuck are you? [shortcake] 6:10 pm It’s been a week, Jungkook. Send me your location or you know I have my ways.

[jungkook] 6:11 pm I’m at the studio. Come to my room, behind. You know it.

He wondered why you didn’t bother checking in for a week, and clearly popped out of nowhere.

It’s just a casual hook-up with a rich girl who helps, sometimes. Who’s a menace, mostly.

He reminds himself, yet again.

Reality is so fucked up.

___

your pov.

You barge into the small practice room, a sense of knowing wrapping around you, ‘cause you’ve fucked almost everywhere at this point. It’s filthy, but it somehow keeps you together.

There was not a living soul here.

Huh.

“Shortcake?”

Honey coated voice— the one you hadn't heard for almost a week— engulfs you, heating you up like molten lava.

You simply walk over, throwing your bag on his couch, now acting as if the entire place’s yours, before piercing on the stool behind the drums.

“Where were you?” He casually sets up the aircon, closing the door as if he knew what’d happen any moment from now.

“Not your business. But guess.” You extend your hands, flaunting a set of rings made of sea-shells.

“Maldives? You went on tour again?” He asks, placing your tender fingers on his, examining the rings before abruptly taking them off.

“The fuck are you doing?!” You round up, trying to get hold of one of your favorite pieces.

“This’d look good in our studio. We’re sea themed, and I’m starting to think you got these for me.”

“You fucking wish, Jeon. Give. them. back.” You try to reach for his hands behind his back, slightly urging the both of you to the walls behind, but he wouldn't budge.

And then he does.

He turns around, crashing his lips on yours in a frantic kiss, pushing you against the walls, hands still holding your rings behind his back. Clutching together.

Your hands free run to his face, bringing him impossibly closer.

Somehow, his lips roaming around yours, pacing back and forth between consuming your edged gasps, felt like the end  of something.

You can’t pinpoint what, though.

Standing tall, head straight to catch a breath, he throws your damned rings off.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Especially when you have him, diving down again to catch your lips in his, running tongue through its seams, ever so furiously.

“Fuck, you’re even better after each trip, __.”

The contempt tastes bitter on your freshly patched up lips.

You knew he didn't mean that.

Last week, before Maldives, you parted ways after a fiery argument about your 'big girl adventures' like he called them.

All it took was you to post a picture with your dad's friend's son, Minho.

He’s about to kiss you again, when those freshly done nails of yours press lightly against his chest, halting the actions.

“Go sit there for me, Jungkook.” You muse into his ears, pointing at the stool behind his instrument.

“Why do you have such a thing for those drums? Hm, shortcake?" His demeanor seemed out of track, eyes blazing into yours.

He’s always been vocal about what he wanted, the clear boundaries and whatnot. But today was in your hands.

You pull him forward, pushing his chest, forcefully getting him to sit on that little chair.

And the next thing you do, takes his breath away. Snatches it, visibly.

You sit on his lap, legs wrapping ‘round his torso— his hands instinctively moving to your hips, holding you in place.

“Your hair has grown so much, kook.” You scramble about, untying your own silky locks that cascade down, bringing the piece of hair tie to his wavy ones that fell ever so prettily over his forehead, arching your chest into his face in the process of crafting a man bun.

You could figure out his fucked up state under you, but the coherence lasts no longer than a second as his mouth envelopes your hardened nipples, from over your flimsy skims top, the friction sending a zap of electricity through you.

“Wearing nothing underneath, you’re always so planned, huh?”

He goes back, trailing slight kisses around your smooth, buttered up neck, grazing the one spot he knew would send you in spirals, as soon as you finish tying his hair up.

“Uh-huh, wanna see you.” You bring him up, his forehead displayed, skin shining under the lights that illuminate the room.

“Hmm, proud of myself.” You grin, as he pushes you forward, hastily, that makes you helplessly choke out a moan.

Because, he’s already hard, and amidst all of this, you’d almost forgotten the purpose of this visit.

“Show me more things that you’d be proud of, shortcake.”

He guides you again, folds delicately parting at the feeling of his hard on, hidden behind the slacks.

Stupid pants.

“Off. I need these off.” He lets you pull down the sweats, catching you off guard after, by stopping you with a grip on the wrists. 

“Don’t have much time. Just— fuck— just sit on me, okay?” 

Oh.

You inch forth, capturing the supple skin of his neck, sucking on it gently, and you swear he elicits a deep guttural sound that you’re so used to, but he pulls you back by the forearm, halting your actions.

“What is it now?” You roll your eyes, clearly tired of the way he stops you at every fucking step.

“Don’t leave marks, __. I’m serious.” His eyes mirror red-hot warning, which provoked your otherwise vague intentions of actually giving him a hickey.

But all you do is move on his growing hard-on, desperately, because,

Fuck trying to work him up when you can clearly see him snaking into your arms, your actions.

His hands fly to your hips, holding them against his own yet again as you set a rhythm with this entire thing, whatever the fuck it was— it was sure getting him riled up beneath you.

“Fuck, yes- sshit- just like that, shortcake.” He groans into your ears, hands frantically tugging down the white skims top to finally reveal your bosoms. He presses a light kiss to the very ends of your nipples that pebbles under the cold air of the room, making you hiss into his ears at the sensation, head falling back as your torso never fails to ride into his.

You could see how close he was, with just a look at his outline pressing ever so deliciously into the tight Calvin Klein's you were sitting on— claiming as yours with every stroke of friction felt in between your thighs.

“Just fucking want my- goddamn- performance to get over so that I can fuck you backstage, angel.”

Your stomach tightens at the idea, strings of what could be his name, and a few profanities slipping out of your mouth.

“You want someone to catch us, don’t you?” His doe eyes look up at your figure on his, and you just dip down in response, sucking on his neck again, purposefully leaving a dark, purple mark on it.

Maybe, you wanna see him mad.

“Fuck, __. You can never stop being a brat and listen to me for once.” You were achingly close to snapping that knot coiling in the pit of your stomach, the traction from the rough fabric of his boxers giving you life, just about to send you over the peak.

 But he just— as cruelly yanks you off his lap.

“Down. On your knees now.” He gets up, pulling his tee away from his body with just one hand.

This shouldn’t be turning you on.

But it was, so you do.

Drop down on your knees, behind the fucking drums, your frame hidden behind. 

The thought of someone barging in at the sight of Jungkook and you behind, seemed so enticing to you, but it vanishes as soon as it takes form, when the man right in front of you, grabs your open hair tightly in a pony-tail, before you could even pull them boxers down and take him in your grip.

“You’re not gonna utter a word, and do as I say.”

You look at him through lidded eyes, too far gone to even retort now.

“Use your mouth, __.” He spills out your full name, and that means it's done. Your part is over.

“Yes.” You state simply, his face contorting in amusement, before pulling his boxers down just enough for his fully hard cock to come up.

However, he was wrong, in thinking he had the full advantage of being the upper hand.

“What happened to having no time, baby?” You huff, too fast to let him catch the tone, before taking his tip in your glossy mouth, and all that came out from him in response was a lucid groan. 

You knew he wanted to curse at you, sputter pure despise at your audacity to ignore his words. 

Best part is, you also knew what your mouth did to him.

Something that sounded like a hushed out moan rumbled out of him, as he pulled your hair, guiding you well.

“Fuck, you love taking me, don’t you? Filthy girl doing so well for me.” He seems to have entirely forgotten your words amidst the mirage of pleasure your mouth enveloped him in.

“Can you look at me, __?” He sputters, hands hovering over your glossy cheeks, hollowed out around his cock.

He lets go of your hair, brushing it to the side and tucking it behind your ears, the blazing pull that burnt your scalp deliciously all along, finally coming to rest. 

His voice was gentle, the one you could feel everywhere, so you continued, without adhering to his wish.

Because, you were taken aback by the soft call.

Terrified.

What happened to the harsh monotony he put through minutes ago?

The sting on your scalp hasn't fully died out, yet.

How the hell did things transition so quickly?

Like he had a mid-sex awakening, purely due to some blood flow issues?

Hormones?

Focus, __. Your hands presses on the muscular flesh of his upper thigh, as movements grow confident around his cock, slightly stroking the base with your fingers now and then, teasing, the jerk of his hips against you so sudden, you mumble a hushed fuck that travels all the way up his breaking point.

“Yyes- ffuck- shortcake do you not hear me? Look up at me, __.” He forces your chin up, as your eyes follow his face, contorting in gleaming pleasure.

“You’re so f- pretty nghh-” Those sounds. Desperate and splintered.

“I’m c- god fuck, where do y’want me, shortcake nghh-” He makes the prettiest sounds, sure, but you were still dazed.

“Wherever.” Your blunt response caught him off-guard, as he slowly pulled out, his own hands taking over, desperately and rushed.

“I’m- fu- shortcake, you’re gonna be the end- ssshit- of me” He snaps, like its been forever, cumming so fucking hard, as it leaks onto your chin that he’s still got a hold of. 

At one point, he’s gasping, panting, riding his high like it’s the last time, stamina completely thrown off.

But the next minute, his hands are on your forearms, nudging you up, manhandling, imposing, lifting you up by the waist with the ease of his tatted arms, onto his drums.

Your ass presses far too much onto the rim of the drum pad, its nuances nudging your soft flesh as he clings his body onto yours.

“What the fuck was the attitude you gave me, __?” He rasps, bold and unrelenting into your face. 

“I’m leaving today.” You say in a breath, wanting to close your eyes and hide from his questions that you knew would follow after.

“You were the one who texted me, called me and came in here. Now you’re leaving? Is it because of the trust fund baby you posted last day? Minho?” He speaks into the afterglow that glistened your face, the lights more brighter as the evening transitioned into the fall of night.

“I won’t come to your concert this week.” You just keep on spewing these sentences, knowing that he’d get mad, but it was inevitable.

He pushes away, the sudden loss of proximity and warmth almost propelling your body forward to chase it again, but you control.

“I’ll use your restroom, yeah?” You grab the bag and rings that lay forgotten.

His lack of response was definitely novel, but you don’t dwell.

Jungkook plops down on the couch, hands slowly untying the man bun that knotted his hair tightly, ruffling the now free curls, raking his palms slowly through them.

You come back, hands washed and freshened up, seeing him sprawled out on the couch.

Those lingering moments and conversations weren't a part of the deal. As much as you wanted to explain— how you had to urgently leave for London and why you're missing his concert— the way his features softened during sex, while he had you on him, all over and consuming.

That was new.

Bemusing.

You wanted to say anything, really.

But what was there to tell him, that doesn't sound like a goodbye now?

So, you quietly gather your things— the only things filling up the space being the hum of the aircon and the sofa creaking with his legs shaking in somewhat an anxious tone— and leave the studio.

────୨ৎ────

note, endingment and all who am i lmao BUT

part two?

the post oc made with minho here

────୨ৎ────

" . . . I SEE MY REFLECTION in your eyes . . . "

brief, in which you're both graduating together starring, the honorable bsf2l (?) trope words, 1.5k tags/warnings, none! i got inspired from a reel, and here we are almost an hour later, so not proof read!! (which also explains the lack of a proper header but im just a girl <3) love diaries music rec, "reflections" — the neighborhood, "get you" — daniel caesar

────୨ৎ────

“you’re not wearing that tie, jeon! go put on the one mom bought.” you scramble around the house, feet thudding against the soft wooden floors— almost imitating your panicked state.

12.15 pm. and two more hours till you enter a new phase of life, graduate from college and move on.

shuffling through the drawers lined on your shared dorm with him, eyes darting to every possible corner, but in vain.

plopping down on the softness of his bed, you huff in exasperation, because this can’t be happening. 

not at the eleventh hour.

the sheets crinkle, slight rustle pronounced through the air-conditioned room, making you turn around to blabber even more complaints into his ears.

but those get swallowed into a whirl, fades away as your best friend, suitemate and something like a childhood partner in shenanigans? the one who you shared toys with begrudgingly at the constant nag of your respective parents and many things you couldn’t cohere at the moment.

really.

wholly out of the usual hoodie situation that didn’t seem to do justice to his dedicated hours at the gym, Jungkook is knelt down, clad in a midnight black tuxedo that you swear was non-existent in his list of clothes that enunciated his features better, in fact he’s never looked like this. the last time was probably on prom day, while another girl clung onto his arms throughout the evening, without letting go.

who would?

your analysis comes to an abrupt end, like those unfinished projects that lay, calm and quiet in Adobe Premiere Pro, because being film majors, it was inevitable.

however that’s not the point.

the matter of concern is how after looking like a character straight out of some rom-com, he sits next to you, adjusting his toe socks.

iron man toe socks.

“are you wearing those to a literal graduation party?” your query comes out, but it’s laced with a not so graceful laugh, a snort coming out after to just complete it.

“you’re not exactly being subtle, __.” unbeknownst to your inner battle, he looks up with slightly wide eyes screaming at you for offending the priceless possession.

“y’know what, i’ll personally buy you some real pair of socks because that,” you point to his feet from which a comical iron-man glared at you. “cannot even be categorized as one.” 

“i know, but this makes me feel at home, you wouldn’t understand a man’s pain.” he dramatically sighs, “if you don’t wanna be my date you could just say that.” those words came out gentler, and even though you knew it was a silly banter, his eyebrows contorting in contemplation defied your thoughts.

“you think i wouldn’t come with you for grad just because of a sock?” you tsk, trying to loosen up the atmosphere that held something unsaid, a little heavier.

but he remained quiet, adjusting the sleeves of the tux to his reflection in the mirror.

several minutes passed with a charged silence.

he was your day one. enrolling in film school wasn’t exactly what your family supported, but Jungkook whipped up an entire presentation— that spanned from your mindless doodles on the blank pages of his science textbook to a whole graphics scheme you created with nothing but cheap, free software and a dream— meeting up with the both of your parents to put forth a pros and cons list. he cleverly snuck in his similar wish of going to college with you, which will probably be the only fact that elevated the chances, landing you here. 

with Jungkook, about to be recognized as accomplished graduates, with impressive portfolios to name.

he knows you better.

best.

you move, finally, rounding the corner to get closer to the dressing table as Jungkook added a spritz of cologne to his neck, a few drops grazing your black silk, front slit dress laced with a floral assemblage at the cleavage.

now his scent was bound to stay for the rest of the evening.

but this time, you don’t complain.

instead, you extend your hands forward, that proudly clasped a red, furry box, golden letters engraved on the centre. 

“Dior?” he examines the box, voice still wrapped around with weight, slowly opening it.

“what the fuck, you found it!” he exclaims, forgetting about the feud, turning around immediately to scoop you in his arms, his hold.

bleu de chanel. on him, now on you too.

the cologne mixed with the heavenly combination of his body wash that you always tried to get your hands on, now sticks onto you. clings like it’s got tentacles, hooking in.

you sigh into his neck, that elicits visible goosebumps on his  skin, laughing lightly as his fingers lazily traces the slit of your dress.

two centimeters. hypothetically if his fingers linger a bit more, and move towards the right, it would be met with the smooth expanse of your exposed thigh.

nevertheless it remains on the silk, outlining the light pink flowers embroidered on them.

“you found this, so i’ll forgive you for insulting my socks.” he whispers into your ears, ever so carefully like he’ll break the moment, if anything.

“Kook?” you call out, his response almost instantly vibrating with a soft hum to your senses.

“you’re too obvious. i know you’d wanna wear the matching tie i disagreed on. isn’t that why you made such a fuss, hm?” you knew he could sense your understanding from the tone.

caught red handed.

Jungkook comes up, slyly grinning at you through his doe eyes, plump lips following suit.

“you were just too adamant on not wanting to match! why would i wear the one mom bought, if i already have another one” he justifies, but you just shake your head, hands folding at the chest.

“it’d look corny with your all black suit, i was just being considerate of your fashion, but if you don’t wanna be, sure.” you shrug, but he just comes behind, tightening the emory green tie, with bold flowers patched onto it, totally not aligning with his tuxedo.

his arms wrap around your shoulders, hands bringing the flimsy material of the tie forward, placing it on your chest, closer to the flowery lace right next to the neckline of your dress.

“the whole point of a date is to match, __.”

you just stare at his eyes through the mirror, and then at your reflection.

and just relax into his arms.

___

“congrats, babyyyy!” jina, classmate and project partner, hugs you from the side, putting the nth garland around you, and pushing a gift onto your already filled hands as she struts, pulling Jungkook’s hand to get his attention.

he turned to one side, talking to your parents and clicking a few pictures of you little sister for her social media.

his focus shifts to you, and a smiley jina who just wanted her pictures taken, before meeting someone else.

“Kook! quick, she has to go.” you rush, his skin gleaming under the beaming May sun.

You pose, as he captures the moments on his ever-cherished camera, approving the shots with a thumbs-up.

“see you soon, girl” jina offers you a hug once again, and leaves in a flash to join the others.

“hey, __. look at me.” he adjusts the camera hanging on his shoulders, the backyard almost empty again, as everyone heads to the after party.

“we don’t have time, let’s go, come on.” you nudge on his hands, but he just

stays.

“i wanna take a photo.”

huh? you took 100s with him, worth all the storage your iCloud could stand.

he remains firm, tugging all the gifts and miscellaneous things from your hold, laying it safely on the grass behind.

this must be one of his antics, to just save time from socialising 

you give in anyway, setting your long brown locks to cascade behind your back, running down to your waist.

Jungkook seemed to fall back for a beat, staring at your figure before slowly bringing the camera to focus.

you expect a countdown to three maybe, conventional, the old style of “1,2,3 say cheese!”

basics of photography, 101.

“i love you.” he knocks you out of breath. 

three words, just not the ones you saw coming.

unexpected, unfiltered, pure confession.

nonetheless, you smile wide at the lenses of the Canon camera that flickered in front of your eyes. 

happier than ever.

you wish, that would’ve given him the answer he seeked for.

────୨ৎ────

BACK TO YOU ⋆ JJK

TEASER ; brief.

˖ ࿐ two souls, one storm to weather—need.

the yearning to turn on the tip of pointed heels, with much urgency, and go back into the same cycle that once made the both of your timbers shiver. resolve crackle.

he, who never wished to serve whatever you craved on a platter.

you, who knew how to bring him back every single time.

back to you.

OUT NOW.

category : ONESHOT/ TWO-SHOT word count : 5k+ [edits yet to be made] starring : drummer!jk, trust fund baby!oc tags/warnings : smut. dry humping [more will be specified in the fic], reader and jungkook are emotionally very wrecked individuals— oc more [lmao she's kind of an ass, but he's not any better], not quite friends with benefits (basically js benefits), oc is a rich spoilt brat who thinks she has the world at her feet. kook's in a band— jimin and hyunjin cameo. it's my drummer!jk fantasies that led to this. so he's a walking warning.

snippet wc : 164

You briefly look around the dingy room with dim lights and concrete walls, unpainted— fit to be a green room.

Fairly enough, it was an embarrassing accident you wouldn’t admit. The yacht was genuinely too sophisticated and you lost your way to the ladies’ room.

Coincidentally enough, you hear your favorite song being played live on the drums from a nearby room titled “Staff Only.” No one could stop you from entering anywhere around on the yacht your dad booked for the big day. 21st birthday bash. And you knew you had everyone wrapped around a pinky.

With him, though? You don’t know.

Don’t know why a look at his face, seconds ago screamed “Not today.” 

His smirk yelling at your senses to keep your power to yourself.

And his unfiltered comment at the beginning? Perfect starter. 

You, nonetheless, took pride in your ability to bring what you craved for, at your fucking feet. Only, this one would take a lot more solo effort.

Consider it done because— goddamn was he a man. Sleeveless tank-top hugging his miniature waist ever so tightly, projecting whatever toned muscle that hid beneath, tattoos twirling around his left arm.

Main course coming right up.

💐 EXBF!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS

REQUEST: “i was thinking like you guys are still somewhat friends after the breakup (maybe in the same friend group or smt) and he’s still very much in love with you type thing ykk 🤭”

warnings: exboyfriend!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader. clingy ex. he’s still MADLY in love. he’s kinda annoying but we love him. slightly fwb (?). same friend group. friends post-breakup.

lulu speaks: hi i LOVE this trope so im very happy u (beautiful anon) requested this. hope this makes u happy 😚

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still calls you ‘baby.’ doesn’t even blink when someone goes, “didn’t you guys break up like 6 months ago?” “so what? she’s still my baby.”

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who sits next to you in every setting imaginable. restaurants, movies, bars, car rides, booths at dinner. he will physically move people to be able to sit next to you. “scoot” has single-handedly become the most used word in his vocabulary.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who replies to ALL of your texts in your groupchat. replies with hearts, texts of his own (that no one asked for), or by saying something like “this was funny hahaha take me back pls🙏🏼”

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who is a hugger. OH, HE’S A HUGGER, ALRIGHT. everytime you meet up, everytime you leave, he clings on like he’s a koala with trust issues. full-on arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder type of hug. he sighs and smiles like he belongs there.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who will turn to you, casual stare, lips puckered at you like he’s just expecting a kiss. you shove him off, rolling your eyes and hiding the beginnings of a smile.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who brings you flowers every time he comes over. even if it’s a group hangout at your place, if he showed up unannounced, or if you called him because you were crying or lonely. wax paper-wrapped bouquet hand-picked by some florist who was under the impression that he was picking that up for his girlfriend.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who remembers everything about you. everything. the cologne he wore that you always complimented, your favorite movie, color, food, songs, all of it.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who will drop everything if you ask. he’ll literally leave work early if you text him you’re not having a good day. you call him at 2AM? he’s out of bed and starting his ignition right then and there.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who is so annoying when your friend group goes out to eat. he plops himself down in the seat next to you without asking. he slides his drink towards you to try first. tells the waiter when they got something wrong with your order before you even have the chance to do it first.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still has you saved in his contacts as “wifey 🤍”. you broke up 6 months ago.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook whose friends go “give it a rest, bro.” to which he replies, “what? we’re friends 😊” while literally staring at you like you harnessed the moon from the sky.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who shows off when you’re around. he flexes his arms with his tongue poking at his cheek, wiggling his eyebrows like he knows you’re secretly ogling.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who texts you the literal minute after you leave the hangout. “you get home safe?” “miss you” “had fun. u looked beautiful as always”

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still drinks out of your cup, borrows your lip balm, offering you a bite of his food and taking one right where you just bit.

ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who steals and wears your hair ties around his wrist everytime he comes over.

lulu speaks pt2: thank u anon!! he’s soo annoyinggggg omggggg 😘🥰😛 stawp he’s weirddd☺️😘🥰🥰ughhh you just can’t shake him offff🤪🤪😝🥰🤪😍😜😘😛

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🫟 SCENEKID!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS

warnings: himbo energy. likely a very innacurate depiction of scene kids. set somewhere between 2007-2012. he’s kind of a loser. in a hot good way.

lulu speaks: I LOVE HIM SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who walks into class late everyday, blasting asking alexandria loud enough that you can hear it clearly through his headphones.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who hangs out in the back of spencer’s with his friends and points out every inappropriate item like he’s so brave.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who doesn’t flirt. he just zones out and stares at you with his chin propped up in his hand like an actual idiot.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who uses corny typing quirks like mixing capital letters with lowercase letters in a sentence that ABSOLUTELY does not need to be as dramatic as he makes sound.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who buys EXCLUSIVELY fruit flavored vapes. no exceptions. except maybe a cotton candy one if he’s feeling expiremental.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who is probably the biggest gyopo you’ll ever encounter in your life.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who sits at the back of the cafeteria with his friends, eating some red 40-filled bullshit while trying (and failing) to gawk at you without garnering their attention.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who has a gif of zim and gir kissing in the corner of his myspace page.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who posts grainy, horrible quality pictures of himself baring his teeth and captioning it with soemthing corny like, “TEEF >:3”

✶ scenekid!jungkook who wears his green-striped zip up hoodie and tight black skinny jeans to the mall, sipping on a coke while giggling like a 10 year old about the “i ♥︎ boobies” bracelet in zumiez. he then buys it and does a shit job at hiding it from his mom.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who gets detention for blowing a suspicious, sweetly scented white cloud from his mouth behind his textbook, which was propped up to conveniently hide his whole face from his teacher. yes, it was his watermelon pen. he calls it “a free air freshener”. the school calls it a safety hazard.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who has a real lip ring, but says it’s fake around his mom (she still has no clue he got it done).

✶ scenekid!jungkook who poses for pictures by pouting and mimicking a fake tear by dragging his finger down his face.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who has NO type. scene girl? he’s down bad. emo girl? would die for her. goth girl? oh, he’s barking. popular girl? foaming at the mouth. he just loves women. period.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who gives the jocks and preppy guys death stares when he’s walking down the hallway. he’s silent with his hatred, but NOT subtle. not in the slightest.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who always keeps his ipod clipped on his hoodie pocket.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who sharpie tattoos himself all over. any skin that’s not clothed is getting covered in tiny, senseless doodles. his mom tells him he’ll get ink poisoning. he rolls his eyes when he scrubs it off.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who once got called “kinda hot in a weird way” by a popular girl. he got hard.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who would go on a multiple hour-long tangent about monster flavors if you’d let him. and BOY does he want to.

✶ scenekid!jungkook who accidentally walks into walls, doors, and windows because he’s too busy flipping through the songs on his playlist to find one that matches his exact mood.

lulu speaks pt2: SAW THIS BOY AT THE MALL LAST WEEK, GOT THE KIND OF LOOK TO MAKE ME FREAK . THAT LONG ASS HAIR WITH THE TIGHTEST JEANS, MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE ON HIS TEE. HE LOOKED SO SICK LIKE HE WAS DYING, IF I SAID HE WASN’T HOT THEN I’D BE LYING. PLEASE, HANDSOME, DONT BE COY, COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY 🗣️🗣️🗣️

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