SAVIOR.

the one where it was either seokjin or jeongguk who was going to advance to the next game.

━ seokjin & jeongguk (platonic jinkook)
━ 1.4k words.
━pg-15
━ angst; squid game au; inspired by a tiktok comment i saw recently that i cant remember specifically where :<
━warning/s: taking place in the marble scene of the series so… character death obvs | also,,, my writing is rusty lmao so this might be really really bad and feel really really rushed as well lmao (i really just wanna post this so dont mind me yall ahsjsahsaj)

Jeongguk could only stare at Seokjin once the announcer stopped informing the players of what the next game was going to be.

He couldn’t determine what Seokjin’s expression meant; all he could see was how the guy’s eyebrows rose and how his lips somehow turned upwards in a slight smirk, as if he was actually amused by the unexpected turn of events and not frightened nor conflicted by it like all the people in this makeshift village were feeling after hearing about the mechanics of the next game they were going to partake in. But in the decades they have treated each other as brothers, worked together and trusted no one as fully as the rest among the crowd of strangers and desperate people like them in the four days there were stuck in this arena, Jeongguk no longer questioned Seokjin’s calmness with regards to what was supposed to take place in the next 30 minutes.

“What game do you want to play?” Seokjin asked finally, turning his eyes to him with a lopsided smile.

Jeongguk didn’t answer. His hands only clenched into fists.

“Should we just play the classic one? The one where we guess if the number of marbles in our hand are even or odd?”

“I want to choose another player,” Jeongguk said, his head however directed to the masked guard in charge of them and not at Seokjin.

As expected, the masked guard didn’t reply, didn’t even make a subtle movement of approval or disapproval for that matter, and before Jeongguk could decide to march up to the person and demand that his request be acknowledged, Seokjin weakly held his shoulder in warning, knowing that there was nothing they could do to change the course of their ‘fate’.

“Jeongguk—”

“We’re supposed to get out of here together,” Jeongguk explained agitatedly. “How the fuck is that going to happen if we’re supposed to be play as opponents.”

“It’s not like we ever played as partners prior.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, you can’t honestly believe that, do you?”

His frustrated expression faltered, replaced with confusion and outraged at the nerve of being asked that question. “What?”

“We knew right from the beginning that there was only going to be one winner in this competition, Guk,” Seokjin explained with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not like they were going to let us bag the 45.6 billion won as a pair. I thought you understood that when we went back here.”

“I did.”

“Then what’s with the showcase of attitude?”

“Showcase of attitude?” he repeated. “Aren’t you angry at the fact that we’re supposed to kill each other right now? Why are you making it seem like I’m overreacting and throwing a fucking tantrum, huh?”

Seokjin sighed. “We’re not killing each other.”

“Oh,yeah, we’re just letting the other get murdered, is that it?”

“Jeongguk—”

“I’m not playing this game with you,” he hissed.

“Well, I’m not letting the both of us get killed too.” Seokjin huffed, nodding towards the huge LED timer hanging on the wall. “We’ve already come this far. I’m not going to waste the opportunity of either of us joining the next round just because the situation isn’t ideal. We have 28 minutes left. What do you want to play?”

“There has to be another way, Hyung.”

Seokjin frowned. This was the first time he actually saw Jeongguk looking defeated and worried over the time they had to compete in this messed up competition. “Don’t worry,” he said instead, plastering another smile as he jiggled the black pouch full of marbles playfully to him, “I’ll go easy on you.”

“Don’t… don’t do that.”

“Does that mean you’ll go easy on me instead then?” The playful tone was still there.

“Hyung,” he gritted his teeth, more seriously now, “promise me you won’t go easy on me.”

“Alright,” Seokjin nodded and even held his pink out, “I promise.”

Jeongguk didn’t bother answering after that, just letting out a gust of frustrated breath as he felt that he had no choice but to comply due to Seokjin’s firmness about the matter.

The thing was though—the both of them always knew who had the upperhand when it came to games or anything in general, really. Right from when they were kids, it has always been Jeongguk who was hailed the winner or the best among the two of them; he was a naturally skilled kid after all, the type to always be the best in anything he pursued. However, in Seokjin’s defense, the reason why he lost most of the time too wasn’t because of the fact that he was bad himself which made winning easy for the younger man, but because as predictable as it was, Seokjin purposely didn’t try that hard for the result to be always in the favor of the former as well, something that Jeongguk only began noticing when he reached 17 years old and realized that there was no simple way in prevailing against him, ultimately causing Seokjin to finally fight fair.

That was why Jeongguk also didn’t want to play with him. He knew what Seokjin was going to do even at situation like this where his own life was at stake, and he didn’t trust him enough to not do otherwise.

“You cheated.”

Seokjin glanced up from looking at their palms, that same amused smirk conquering his lips. Jeongguk just guessed the right number group that Seokjin was playing with, wagering with an amount that was exact to it too. “Shouldn’t I say that between the two of us?” he asked, already pouring the last marble—the single only one that was left in his possession—to Jeongguk’s pouch.

“You… you’re doing it on purpose,” Jeongguk breathed out, his hand shaking and pulling the pouch closer to him in attempt to haul it farther from Seokjin, but he didn’t move it fast enough to prevent the latter’s movements for it to be of any worth. “You never play fair. I’m not a fucking kid anymore for you to do this to me—”

“I didn’t cheat, Guk—”

“You fucking did!”

“How? Can’t you see that you deserved this win?”

Jeongguk was beginning to burn in rage. Because of Seokjin, because of the stupid game, because of their choice to go back here, because of the reality of what’s about to commence—

“It’s okay, Jeongguk.” Seokjin interrupted his train of thought, hurriedly yet gently enclosing the small bag black containing all the marbles inside Jeongguk’s fist. “You deserved it.”

“What?” he exclaimed, eyes glaring at the older man, eyes watering at the thought of losing him. “How in the hell is this okay? Do you even fucking realize what—”

“—I do.”

“What?” He shouted in complete resentment now, not stopping himself from letting all his emotions out.

Seokjin smiled, in a manner that showed only sadness and annoying authenticity. “Hyung will do it, Jeongguk.”

“What?” he repeated for the nth time, knees seemingly buckling with his tears finally falling on his cheeks.

“LetHyungdo it,” Seokjin said. “It’s okay.”

Jeongguk couldn’t help but suddenly grasp Seokjin’s collar harshly, pushing him against the wall in violence that made the guard automatically point his gun at the side of Jeongguk’s head, an action that the latter didn’t care about. “Are you fuckingcrazy?” he snarled.

“It’s easier this way.”

“No!”

“It’s okay, Jeongguk,” Seokjin grabbed his hands on his shirt and forcefully removed it, “it’s okay.”

“No,” Jeongguk shook his head rapidly, trying still to stop Seokjin while he walked to the guard to present his empty pouch, “I won’t let you do this—”

“You won.”

“Hyung—”

“Hyung will do it.” He finished again, one last turn being done before his hands rose up to grasp Jeongguk’s shoulders tightly. “You won it fair and square. So, make sure to win the rest of the game too, alright?”

“Hyung…” Jeongguk practically begged, but Seokjin only patted his back and immediately showed the empty pouch he had to the masked guard to declare the loser of the game. He, on the other hand, couldn’t move his feet even if he wanted to; he understood that maybe this has always been Seokjin’s plan all along—to help him in the games but never succeed it with him.

Jeongguk felt Seokjin squeeze his shoulder again and he stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

“You did well, Guk,” he said, another squeeze until he retracts his arm back to his side. “Thanks for playing with me for the last time.”

As the guard lifted their weapon, Jeongguk’s gaze shifted from Seokjin’s face to the gun, the finger on the trigger being pressed in what looked like in slow motion.

Unthinkingly, Jeongguk ran towards Seokjin.

BANG!

The two of them staggered.

A long silence.

“Player 091, eliminated.”

THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary:Jeon Jungkook has fucked up big time. Unlike you, he woke up with perfectly clear memories of fucking you. He spends every spare moment of his shift staring at you and trying not to get caught. Your father is his, uh, bosswho very much knows how to use a knife, yikes. Jungkook definitely shouldn’t like you. But he does. Ah, shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Jungkook is low-key a horny mess at work; graphic descriptions of sexual acts (fem reader, penetrative sex, cowgirl); actually just fluff; non-idol!BTS; waiter!Jungkook x hostess!reader; Jungkook’s POV, ft waiter!JImin

–

“Fuck, that ass is illegal. Those fucking legs. Ugh, I don’t know how she does it, wearing those heels all night…”

“Lusting after your favorite hostess?”

Jeon Jungkook jumped ten feet into the air, greeted by the mischievous, perceptive expression of Park Jimin. The shorter man was dressed sharply in the restaurant’s waiter uniform – black vest, crisp navy shirt, black slacks, restaurant logo pin on the vest pocket atop a tucked, folded, patterned navy handkerchief.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Jimin chastised the second Jungkook faced him, reaching over with his small hands and plucking the handkerchief from Jungkook’s vest. “Left over right, not right over left.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as the blond-haired man refolded it. The restaurant was bustling with activity, loud conversations and utensils against plates enough to mask Jimin’s words to anyone but him, who was standing in front of his hyung.

“What’s with you lately? You were getting the hang of it and now you’re forgetting these details and nearly arriving late, looking all messy… Are you trying to make me look bad? After I helped you get this job?”

Debatable, but yes, Jimin had set up the interview when he asked for help job hunting. The restaurant had been looking to hire a few more servers. Jungkook felt eyes on him as Jimin returned the perfectly folded handkerchief to Jungkook’s vest with a pout, puffing one of his round cheeks as he continued talking. Instead of listening, he looked up. 

Right into your eyes. 

You gave Jungkook a teasing smile, the ever-so-slight sliver of pink tongue peeking between your painted scarlet lips. 

Jungkook turned red. 

Jimin jabbed him in the chest. 

“Stop making googly eyes at the head chef’s daughter! You’re gonna get yourself killed!” he hissed. 

Too late. 

Jungkook was already remembering your hands on his waist, pulling him to you, kiss hot and passionate, your fingers sliding under his navy shirt, his own white t-shirt on your pretty frame, your sensual whisper in his mouth. 

“I said I would give it back,” you had breathed against his moaning lips. 

Jimin snapped him out of his thoughts by smacking him upside the head. 

“Come on, back to work.”

Jungkook hurried to the kitchen, nearly colliding with the head chef himself. The older man raised an eyebrow and shook his head as Jungkook apologized. 

“Pay fucking attention. You better not be running with the food,” the head chef snapped gruffly. “Kids these days, always making a damn mess of things…” he added with a grumble, rerolling his sleeves as he walked past Jungkook, revealing the pattern of intricate inked leaves on the muscular, spotted forearms, reminding Jungkook of his interview when applying for the job.

“No tattoos.”

The head chef was glaring at Jungkook right hand with flinty, hard eyes surrounded by lines of age that had seen far too much shit to be dealing with Jeon Jungkook right now. Park Jimin had been hiding behind one of the kitchen doors, wincing at the gruff dismissal. Jungkook sputtered, retreating his hand from the table. 

“A-ah, I could wear a g-glove or–”

“Who cares these days, Papa?”

And there you were, waltzing in with your hostess uniform, floaty navy blouse with a black tie, restaurant logo pin gleaming in the center, tight black pencil skirt, sheer tights, black heels. You swooped down and grabbed Jungkook’s hand under the table, dropping it back on the tablecloth. 

“They’re small and, look, one of them is a heart. What gang do you think he’s part of? Hm? Gang of spreading love throughout the galaxy?”

The older man rubbed his forehead, running his fingers through salt-and-pepper strands. “It’s going to look fucking terrible for our reputation if–”

“What looks terrible is you swearing in the back all the time,” you chuckled, taking the resume in front of your father. “He’s handsome. Think of all the customers he’ll bring, especially the younger crowd. They’ll think he’s cool.”

“Work is not about being cool–”

“Butappearances matter,” you cut off your father once again, framing Jungkook’s stunned expression with the paper and your hand. “Look at him. He’s a good-looking guy. People will come back to eat here just to see him.”

Your father sighed, relenting slightly but not too much. “His hair is too fucking long.”

“Then he’ll cut it.”

And then you finally, finally turned your head to look at him, sparkling eyes full of life, taking his breath away, your simple but exquisitely done makeup merely accenting your mirthful gaze and teasing smile, thoroughly amused with knocking down your father a peg.

“Mmm, maybe not too much though. You look pretty good with long hair.”

Jungkook’s lips parted, completely speechless.

You turned away from him and he could finally breathe again, still slightly dumbstruck at the whole exchange and amazed at how the harsh man in front of him produced such perfect offspring. He barely registered you speaking to your father.

“Besides, what are you acting so old for? You have tattoos.”

“Youth is so careless these days,” your father deflected, standing up.

You laughed, light and musical. “You too, weren’t you, Papa?”

The older man scowled at your bright, playful expression before sighing and admitting defeat. "Have Jimin show the kid the ropes,“ your father mumbled, placing a hand on your head for a moment before stalking off to the kitchen. 

"Now I have to fix my hair,” you sighed, combing a hand through it. 

Jungkook thought you looked wonderfully sexy with slightly disheveled hair. 

“Ah, Jimin, there you are, you rascal, were you listening in? Could you…?”

Jungkook was cut out of his thoughts once again as orders were rattled off to him. He mentally noted them with ease, his short black ponytail bouncing with his movements, collecting the tray of streaming food carefully, balancing it well. He hadn’t known it at the time, too desperate for a job to consider it, but he was good at the work and, what’s more, he enjoyed it. There was something nice about feeding people good food and seeing their big smiles after a filling meal, thanking him with gratitude. Like everyone, Jungkook got his share of assholes (suspiciously, mostly men whose wives spent their time staring at him), but it didn’t matter, because at the end of the night, he would laugh about it with Jimin and his coworkers over dinner, swapping stories of funny things that happened.

And the best nights were the nights when you helped out. 

You always ate later than everyone else and always your father, helping him clean up. Sometimes your mother was there too, and Jungkook would watch the three of you interact. You were a lot like your mom, more carefree and friskier, giving your gruff, stoic father a hard time. No one could joke around with the head chef besides you and your mother. 

Jungkook spent every free moment he had to observe your attentive gaze tending to the customers, leading them with elegant steps and a gentle smile, on the cusp of playfulness but not quite. Jimin had noticed his infatuation immediately and teased him incessantly about it… until he realized Jungkook was serious. 

“Are you crazy?” Jimin choked on his drink when he came over to hang out on their off day and Jungkook admitted to his crush. “You couldn’t lust after any other girl but the one with an angry father that has access to literal knives and knows how to fillet a fish in less than five seconds?”

“Uh…”

“… Do you have a death wish or what?”

Maybe. 

But Jungkook also knew he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were way too cool for him, too attractive, too capable, switching between hostess work, chef work, management, fuck, even waiting on the tables if someone suddenly called in sick. You knew all the ins and outs, always ready to help someone who was having some trouble. One time the men’s toilet was clogged and you tied up your hair, rolling up your sleeves and unclogged it yourself, not even batting an eyelash. 

Jungkook did not think he would ever find anyone holding a plunger sexy, but he also hadn’t met you. 

It was an absolutely terrible, no good, very bad idea to want you, his coworker, his boss’s daughter, his incredibly-skilled-with-a-knife and usually-wielding-an-iron-wok boss’s daughter. He tried not to think about it and stay polite and definitely avoided staring too long at your ass, because then he would have to run to the bathroom and calm his dick down, knowing he was never going to tap that. 

Or so he thought. 

Until that moment in the break room. Jungkook had ducked into the back to take a breath and hydrate from a particularly busy day, sweating a little from the hot kitchen. He nearly ran into you. 

“Oh, s-sorry!”

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I don’t mind if it’s you.”

He had gawked at you and you gave him that gentle, almost teasing smile. Then your body turned a little, preparing to walk past, not asking him to move out of the way.

“Gotta get back to work.”

Your ass brushed against his crotch due to the narrow doorway, his body automatically following, pressing back, nearly pinning you to the doorframe. You paused, eyes shifting to him. Jungkook felt his ears heat, trying to pull away, not wanting you to feel his rapidly growing erection. There was a split second where you could have recoiled in disgust, maybe even yelled at him, but you hadn’t given him any time to move away or avoid you and he wasn’t trying to–

You leaned back, wiggling your ass on his already hard cock. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened. 

Now your smile was definitely teasing. 

“Don’t take too long. I’ll miss you too much,” you purred, looking up into his eyes.

And you left.

Him and his dick.

Both very depressed about it. 

Then there was that whole thing where he spilled rum on your jacket when he was out that one fateful night, not expecting anything, but it somehow led to conversation, more drinks, heated kisses, and finally going home with you to fuck like animals. He wasn’t supposed to like you in the first place and you weren’t supposed make him fall harder by being the perfect blend of wild and sexy. And to top it all off, you were endearingly confused and cute the next morning, slowly piecing everything together and wanting to stay with him once everything clicked. 

Wanting him more. 

Fucking him more. 

Jungkook was, officially, well and truly screwed. 

He watched you right now, chatting with a disturbingly handsome man – one might even say, worldwide handsome – looking so perfect and pretty next to someone like that, someone with a great smile and laugh, someone that didn’t wait tables for a living. It made his heart ache as you bowed politely, waving goodbye to the handsome man. 

You seemed to sense his gaze and you turned your head slightly, smiling at him underneath your neatly pinned hair. Jungkook started and threw himself into the kitchen. If he bothered to look back, he would have seen you laugh a little, making the other hostess look at you questioningly.

It was all very bad and getting worse, because now Jungkook had memories of your nails raking down his back, your breath on his skin, pleading with him to fuck you harder, to drive his dick into your tight, wet pussy, to mess you up and claim you, pushing his head down so he could bite your shoulder when he came, ecstasy shooting through his veins, your thighs squeezing his waist. He now had memories of you wearing his shirt, laying in his bed, standing in his kitchen, eating on the couch with him. Memories of your smiling mouth against his, rolling your hips into his crotch, knowing you two were nearly going to be late if you started again, but you breathed his name into his mouth, saturated with desire, your bare thigh rubbing against his already hard, leaking cock. 

Jungkook couldn’t say no. 

Not to the most diligent, capable, beautiful hostess he’d ever seen. 

A minor issue that your father sharpened his knives while glaring at anyone in his path, including Jungkook. Maybe a little extra violently when spotting Jungkook. He was getting less and less subtle about his attraction to you.

He tried very hard not to look at you, because if you caught him, you would give him that oh-so-familiar smile and then all he could think about was the way you rode him, hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, head thrown back and messy hair floating around you, your tits bouncing right in front of his face. That harsh smack of hips to hips, the squelch of wetness mixing with moans, the pleasure racing through his spine, him wishing it would never end.

Sometimes you didn’t even have to look at him and he was already thinking it.

It was already the end of the night and you were shouting at your father.

“Don’t stay out too late!”

“What do you think I am, a fucking child? I’ll be fine. Stop worrying,” came the gruff response from the back. “Tell your mother the address if she wants to come.”

“She won’t, because unlike you she likes to sleep.” You were laughing in the kitchen, the other chefs already leaving with your father, off to a night of drinking with their boss. “What about me? Can I go have fun?”

“After you close up properly,” your father sighed.

Jungkook poked his head over the kitchen door, witnessing you grinning up at your father, everybody outside chatting as they waited. The older man frowned as you plucked the chef’s hat from your father’s head and put in on yours, taking his jacket as he handed it to you.

“That’s dirty. Take it off.”

“Why? You used to let me wear it all the time.”

“That’s because you were a kid, always trying to follow me around,” your father scoffed.

“I want to be like you. You will always be my hero, Papa.”

Jungkook noticed your father’s ears flush pink as he turned away, grunting. “Don’t forget to lock up.”

You hugged him and your father made a disgruntled grumble. “I love you. Be careful, okay?”

“Fuck, what are you, my mother?” the older man mumbled, but letting himself be hugged, patting your neatly pinned hair. You let go and he hurried off, letting out a puff of annoyed air.

“Bye, Papa.”

The head of salt-and-pepper stopped. Jungkook jerked his own head back as your father looked over his shoulder. He heard him sigh heavily, softer words now, words only meant for his daughter, words no one else was supposed to hear, kind and warm.

“Love you.”

Jungkook should really just leave. Everyone else was gone. Jimin had warned him multiple times not to stay behind, but Jungkook had pushed his hyung away, saying it was fine, telling Jimin not to worry because he had overheard that the head chef was treating all the kitchen staff to drinks tonight and that meant you weren’t going directly home with your father.

“Is it gonna be fine when I’m scraping your remains off the walls?” Jimin muttered and he pulled on his coat and shook his head. Jungkook had shooed him away.

He should really just leave, but he couldn’t, because, maybe, if there was a chance…

“Jungkook?”

He jumped, eyes shifting in every direction except your face right in front of him.

“Ah… yeah? It’s me?”

Smooth, Jeon Jungkook. He winced at his own response.

You tilted your head, swerving it this way and that to try to catch his gaze. “What are you still doing here? I thought you went home with the others?”

“Uh… I thought… I was hoping, maybe, if you want to…”

He finally looked at you and your playful expression, energetic despite the late hour, a true night owl and definitely not a morning person. Your smile grew. His cheeks felt hotter and hotter with every passing second. He really needed a few drinks before he could loosen up around you.

“Go eat something?” he squeaked.

You blinked at him. “Haven’t you eaten? I saw you devouring three bowls of samgyeopsal.”

Oh. Right. He did eat three bowls of pork belly. “Er… but you haven’t eaten yet. I saw you were cleaning.”

You nodded. “I could eat, yeah.”

Jungkook brightened, grasping at the little hope you gave him. “What would you like? I could order something right now and we could go pick it up. If…” He swallowed, realizing he hadn’t even asked if you wanted to spend time with him yet. “If you want to hang out with me for a little while, that is…”

You chuckled, shaking you head. “You don’t have to order anything.”

“O… oh.” He felt his heart sink.

“I’m already looking at my meal.”

He blinked at you. That gentle, teasing smile slowly graced your lips.

“I like Korean.”

Immediately Jungkook puffed his cheeks, whole face heating. “H-Hey–”

But you cut him off, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, hooking a finger on one of his belt loops and pulling him closer, arm gliding around his waist. Soft kisses, light and airy, murmuring his name, and he couldn’t help it anymore, his own hands landing on your hips and moaning into your mouth, squeezing that ass he had been staring at all evening.

“I want to hang out with you all night, Jungkook. You want that?”

Fuck yes, he did. But he also didn’t want to die.

“B-But, your dad…”

“Why do you think I spent all that time buttering him up, hm? Papa won’t mind if I tell him I’m hanging out with a friend… especially after a few beers.”

–

masterpost

Characters:Jungkook x Reader

Word Count:4,373

Genre: Assassin AU

Note: This is a re-upload due to the original chapter being taken down by Tumblr. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Prologue|Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9|Part 10|Part 11|Part 12|Part 13|Part 14|Part 15|Part 16|Part 17|Part 18|Part 19|Part 20| Part 21|Part 22|Part 23|Part 24|Part 25|Part 26

They found you.

Somehow, the enemy was able to find the location of the Yongsan division office. They must have followed your van here after the incident at City Hall or used some other undetectable means to trace you. Perhaps that was their plan all along, to discreetly tail your vehicle during the hectic escape to safety. Whatever the answer is, it no longer matters how they managed to discover your haven.

They’re here—and you’re under attack.

The fire alarm is shrill and seemingly perpetual in its shrieking pattern as it drills into your head with each blaring reiteration. The halls and rooms are echoing with the sound to alert the inhabitants of what they already know—the structure is starting to go up in flames with the source of the disaster well below the level you are currently on but advancing its spread with persisting speed.

You’re running down the stairwell of the building, moving as quick as you can to see if there is still a chance to escape. Even if there isn’t, there’s no way you’re going to stay in your room and accept the charred fate that awaits you. Ignoring the restriction of movement in your arm and the searing pain that overwhelms your back from the brash stress you’re putting on it, you keep a steady and brisk pace down the seemingly unending steps.

Until, you can’t go any further.

You freeze at the top of another flight of stairs as you were just about to get ready to conquer it. At the bottom, the fire is now clearly visible, and the heat emanating from it is so blisteringly strong, it feels as if your skin will start boiling if you go any closer. The embers lick dangerously under your feet, and the smoke not only proliferates from the lower floors to obscure the rest of the path you were planning to take, but the suffocating fog ascends in billows to scorch your lungs, eyes, and everything in between.

If the conditions are this bad when you’ve barely made it to the fourth floor, then it’s a guarantee that your exit route must be overtaken with flames, seeing how the building is burning from the bottom up. The threat is drawing nearer with each passing second, which effectively wipes any idea you had in your mind that this could be a viable path to take.

Turning back around, you begin a sprint up the same stairs you rushed down on, hoping that your legs won’t give out on you in this more difficult trek to your new destination. Since you can’t even dream of going to the ground floor, the only place you can go now is up. There’s no need to stop and take a peek over your shoulder to check the status below, because you’re fairly sure that the fire and smoke are rapidly advancing.

You can feel it.

Once you reach the top of the very last set of stairs, you’re met with an exit that is labeled “roof access” in bold, red letters. You throw yourself onto the metal bar and shove the door open, not stopping your winding feet until you reach another roadblock: the edge.

Above your head, the sky is nothing but a murky shroud, but below, you are able to see the hellish illumination of the fire that has already devoured half of the structure. You strain your eyes to look beyond the smog and sparks, and when you focus on the ground near the sidewalk, you detect numerous dim figures you can only assume are onlookers of the spectacle. It definitely looks to be a long way down with nothing to break the fall but the unforgiving pavement.

Remarkably, that doesn’t stop the people trapped inside the building.

Movement coming from the upper levels catches your attention, and when you try to discern what it is, your vision follows the descending shadows as they fall out of the windows and make their way towards the cement. Judging by the rate at which they are dropping, you can easily distinguish that those forms aren’t just papers or objects from the offices floating through the wind. Bodies are flying out of even the tenth floor windows, plummeting down with increasing velocity until they crash onto the unrelenting surface with sickening splits and splatters. Everyone is desperate to escape this burgeoning inferno, and you can’t say that you’re too far behind the tipping point yourself.

Actually, you’re about a step away from it.

Staring down at the scene below, you can determine that while the threat is coming ever closer, there are no other escape routes available for you to choose from. There are only two options: you can either stay here until the building burns up or collapses beneath you, which could be any minute now, or you can jump off and join the rest of the agents who took the leap of faith. Maybe you’ll be able to get away with your life in exchange for broken legs if you position your landing correctly, as slim of a chance it may be.

You take a deep breath, immediately regretting it as you inhale a lungful of the all-too-familiar fumes of ash and carbon. Your time is running out, and you know that there’s only one thing left to do.

Wake up.

You jolt awake with a start, your eyes shooting open to meet the same insipid ceiling from your previous awakening, except this time, it’s eclipsed by a looming shadow above you. Your first reaction is to lunge up from your bed, reach out for a nearby item to protect yourself with, do something so you can ensure your safety and stability, but you can’t move.

That’s when you realize that someone is hovering over you, clamping your wrists and shoulders down in an attempt to hold you down. Since flight is not an option, you start to kick into fight mode, but when your frantic eyes land on the face of your supposed assailant, the tension relaxes from your body in a wave of relief.

“Sorry,” Namjoon says, slowly releasing his grip and straightening himself up from the leaning position. “I thought it would be best to wake you.”

Your heart is still racing from the residual adrenaline pumping through your veins from the unpleasant awakening and even more unpleasant dream, but you start to steady your breathing after grasping an understanding of the circumstances. At least he took caution to restrain you before attempting to wake you. It seems as though he has learned from the mistake he made last time—of course, the nasty bruise and near concussion probably served as a lesson he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“Why are you here?” you question, subtly trying to move past the embarrassment of having to be woken up like a child who was acting out because of a nightmare.

“To tell you that you’ve been discharged,” he states as he watches you prop yourself upright on the bed. “You can leave whenever you’d like as long as you stay on the other side of the Han. I was just about to head back to HQ, so I wanted to stop by and see if you were up yet.”

“I’m up now,” you begrudgingly declare. You rub your eyes of whatever remnants of sleep are still leftover and push the sheets off of you. “I’ll be out in 10.”

“Take your time.”

Namjoon leaves with a click of the door, leaving you to your own devices. You take this time to release a well-needed sigh in appreciation for your body and mind finally calming down. It’s much too early to be in inner turmoil right now, but apparently your brain thought otherwise and felt the need to grace you with the highly unnecessary and unwelcomed dream.

You couldn’t fall asleep for the longest time last night, and it was only when you could almost perceive the first rays of the morning sun brightening the dark blue sky that you managed to slip into a slumber.

Evidently, that didn’t last long.

Even though the couple winks you were able to squeeze in leaves you feeling wearier than ever, you still can’t relinquish the chance to get up and leave this stuffy room, even if it’s just to return to the comfort of your own bed. You keep that thought in mind as you go to change out of your hospital garments, but you having a strong feeling that it’s going to be a long while until you have the pleasure of getting some real rest.

As you pull out of the parking garage, you brace yourself to face something similar to a warzone, but much to your surprise, things are completely and utterly normal. With the flow of the traffic and the stream of pedestrians filling the streets, everything is business as usual, almost as if a violent crime didn’t just take place in the heart of Seoul yesterday. It could be because you’re heading back to Gangnam, which is on the opposite side of the Yongsan office from the crime scene, but nevertheless, is seems as though the city is an unstoppable, well-oiled machine.

That is, until you step foot into Kim Daily.

On most days, it’s the upper levels of the 54-story structure, the quarters where the assassins spend the majority of their time, that are bustling with activity, but today, the lower precincts where the news company works its journalism magic are just as busy, if not more so, as the rest of the building’s denizens.

You have grown to admire their hard work and their ability to stay on top of things, because among the many powerful resources Mr. Shin possesses, this news company is one that proves to be most reliable time and time again.

It has not even been a full 24 hours since the incident occurred, yet it seems like the situation is well on its way towards being resolved. The whole of yesterday was dedicated to revising the print for this morning’s paper and filling the online news platform with all the necessary information that needed to be distributed to the general public.

The big headline doesn’t include the gritty details of the violent turn of events that you would usually find on cover stories such as these. There’s nothing specific about the one dead and nine injured, numbers that are blown up with prominence on other news outlets, nor are there profiles of the shooter and his associates, a decision no doubt to keep your identities safe.

Instead, the main emphasis is on reform—how we will recover from this tragic event and the steps we need to take in order to prevent it from happening again in the future. It’s an extremely well-written, convincing, and thrilling exposé on the nation’s gun control regulations that most definitely will leave readers nodding their heads in agreement or at least scratching their chins in contemplation.

On top of that, quite literally, is Mayor Moon’s face plastered on every front page. The photo is not taken from the press conference that transpired yesterday, despite it being fitting for the article, but instead, it’s one of his more professional shots that you would spot on posters for his campaign tour. The Mayor of Seoul looks like a jolly man with thin-rimmed oval glasses, neatly-combed black hair, and a smile that ironically brings out the prominent frown lines on his forehead.

Within the exposé, quotes from the press conference concerning the attack at Seoul Plaza have been included. Mayor Moon responded to the early criticisms and vowed to do everything in his power to make the city safe again. To win over the public even more, he also discussed his proposition of restricting firearms to a greater extent by requiring GPS tracking of all guns that are in circulation from now on.

Between this incident and what happened in Sejong earlier this year, you have a good hunch that the new regulations will be put into full effect soon enough.

It’s all good in theory, but you know that there’s no way that a law like that will reign legitimately, at least not for you guys. If anything, it’ll just become that much easier to monitor the authorities and any other low-class criminals who are unlucky and ignorant enough to carry around bugged weapons.

Come what may, Mr. Shin is managing to make the best out of a situation that could have gone terribly wrong and should have had no upsides whatsoever. You thought it would certainly take more of a strenuous effort to bury things and cut all loose ends; shootings in Seoul are exceptionally rare, and even for a man of his capabilities, you were sure it was going to be difficult to sweep under the rug and cover up. Not only is he doing exactly that though, but he is also helping to paint Mayor Moon in a better light, fruitfully furthering the solidity of both of their positions.

A true win-win scenario.

By the end of the scramble, you stand corrected, having taken your boss’s professional prowess too lightly. Mr. Shin has been running the game for decades now, so you doubt that this is the worst thing that he has witnessed during his lifetime. It was foolish of you to think that any other undesirable outcome would have spawned from this situation.

In the following days, it seems as though the shooting and the subsequent proceedings that occurred afterwards are all that is being broadcasted and covered by news companies and major media sites alike. It’s all that comes up on the TV at the apartment when you have time to turn it on, which you do have plenty of recently as the assassins have been told to put down their guns and knives and lay low until things get concluded with ink strokes and keyboard clicks.

It’s times like these where the pen is, in fact, mightier than the sword.

“I am here to confirm that we have successfully captured the offender and have taken him into custody.”

An astute voice leaks through the speakers as you watch the announcement on screen. Cameras are flashing and shuttering at amazing rates, but that doesn’t seem to faze the Police Chief, Cho Ryeowoon. This uniformed man of experience has a rigid stance and hardened facial expression that makes him appear almost immune to the commotion around him. He’s standing behind the podium to carry out a simple task, one that will hopefully be the bow that wraps up this entire case.

“Everyone can rest assured that the streets are safe. With the recent mandates that have been passed, there is no need to worry about something like this happening again.” Sure enough, it only took a span of a few days for the gun control regulations to be imposed. Chief Cho’s guarantees sound so matter-of-factly, and you’re impressed by his ability to turn such a dubious subject into a highly persuasive speech. “As for the culprit, I think I speak on behalf of everyone when I say that it is only right that he be brought to justice—and you have my word that he will.”

After a few seconds, a picture of the alleged criminal is pulled up onto the screen by the broadcasting station. The man in the photo isnot Jungkook in any way shape or form, but since the CCTV footage of the actual wrongdoer was never released to the public, the viewing citizens will be none the wiser. Even those who were physically present won’t be able to say a word otherwise, because with a beanie and a mask, any male with the same build and basic traits can probably pass as Jungkook.

You can’t help but wonder who the poor sap going under the guillotine is, but you guess it doesn’t hold significance. If it did matter, he wouldn’t be where he is right now, taking the blame for your teammate’s actions for the sake of your organization and its allies. Besides, if you know anything about the organization, it’s almost guaranteed that the man did something foul for him to be placed on the hot seat like that—this is just a slightly less practical way of getting him where he needs to be.

Truthfully, you’re pleased that this is being covered up so competently. None of you need the stress of the aftermath weighing down on you, especially not on top of all the other baggage you have to carry. It’s a bit selfish to say the least, but being in the position that you guys are in, it can’t be helped.

It’s merely self-preservation.

Since the effort to recover from the close call went better than you could have hoped for, especially after the “culprit” was captured, the status of the organization returned back to normal in record time. Following suit, your stitches were taken out after about a week of having received them, and by now, the wound is no longer hindering your movement and performance.

The situation seems to have blown over in the blink of an eye, but on the contrary, those few days of unemployment were arduous for the business. While you were all preoccupied with the large-scale affair, it was not quite as impacting to the rest of the city’s population who weren’t directly affected by it. Even in the madness of everything that happened regarding the wanted man, clients were not holding off on placing orders and requests, so to act in accordance, the organization accepted them like they always did.

This is a business, after all, and these are your jobs—your livings. Everything else was continuing on with its fixed pace after acknowledging what has passed, and you guys couldn’t afford to be bumming around for any longer when there were contracts to be signed and orders to be fulfilled. Especially after the news broke that the organization had quite possibly been infiltrated by a mole, not another minute can go to waste.

Just like that, life goes on.

Jungkook was transported back to headquarters shortly after you returned, and yet, even as the days go on, you don’t catch so much as a glimpse of him.

It’s rather strange if you think about it. There are many times when both you and Jungkook are busy with your own assignments, and during those periods, days or even weeks can go by until you two see each other again. Currently, it has only been a little over a week, but these are not the same circumstances. It’s a completely different story because you know that he is in the same building as you, conversing with the same people as you, probably even eating the same food as you, but he himself is choosing to keep you distant and away.

You hate this feeling that is planted within you, growing each day that it’s left neglected like intrusive vines that spread through every fiber of your being. You wish that you could at least apologize in person or even see with your own two eyes that he’s really okay, but so far, you haven’t been given a chance to clear up the mess.

Some of the others are doing their best to keep you in the know, so when they relay to you that his condition is progressing well, you have no choice but to take their word for it. He’s apparently healing up quite speedily—to your liberation, there are no persisting damages from the bullet wound—but you didn’t expect any less from Jungkook. Sometimes, you seriously believe he’s just built in a different way from most people in this world.

From what Jin has graciously taken the time to tell you, Jungkook has been put under special care until he is completely healed. You’re grateful for your supervisor, because even scraps of information such as this is not necessarily mandatory to divulge to the rest of the team. Perhaps he’s so attentive at informing you because he feels guilty about the whole exchange at the Yongsan corridor. Even if that’s not the case, Jin does tend to have a bit of soft spot for you—Lord knows you’ve been softening him up by poking and prodding him for details since the dawn of time. It’s not that you take advantage of this fact at all, but more often than not, you are able to coax something useful out of him.

This is one of those times.

It became clear to you that this “special care” wasn’t just to track the superficial injuries Jungkook sustained once Jin uttered that single word, one that you realized was the true reason for the elongated recovery time and temporary removal from the team.

Therapy.

Yes, assassin therapy is not only a thing, but a quintessential aspect of the system. Just as important as physical health, if not more, mental health is dealt with the utmost care, precision, and promptitude.

The organization holds monthly evaluations for all members working within it, and among the several tests is a mental state check, one of the practices in which everyone’s psyche is measured and monitored. These examinations are tedious at times, but they are essential not only for curing anomalies but for preventing those imbalances from happening in the first place, and the consequences of deciding to omit this facet of the assessment are far too high. The officials and even other members need to know that the inner workings of an operative are not abnormal or unstable in any way before setting them out into the field with the potential to inflict adverse harm and wreak havoc.

Furthermore, this arrangement proves to be amply effective.

There have been a few instances where you have heard of assassins being pulled from their roles on the team, almost always at the end of the month and with minimal repercussions. There was only one deviant from this otherwise efficacious procedure you remember hearing whispers about that concerned a particular agent whose primary job was interrogation—just like Jimin. His personal methods, however, became too eccentric, even for the organization’s tastes.

To put it bluntly, he was discovered to have been cutting off and eating the hostage’s fingers in order to force them to comply.

Admittedly, it was an effective torture technique—there’s really nothing like watching someone eat your own body parts in front of you—but unsurprisingly, it didn’t go over well with the higher-ups, or anyone else for that matter. Shortly after he was caught—it didn’t take long after the initial episode—the agent was removed from his post before he could go off the deep end, as if that line hadn’t already been crossed.

This entire screening process is in no way a perfect one, but without its implementation, the organization could very well have seen greater calamity or even collapse by now.

Jungkook’s behavior certainly raised some red flags with the company officers, and while you can argue that it’s not nearly as bad as Mr. Finger Fetish, you have to agree with the call for rehabilitation that they made. It still gives you shudders when your mind travels back to ponder what kind of mentality Jungkook held in that moment that drove him to go through with his erratic actions. It makes you wonder if you should have paid more attention to the signs that led up to that point.

No, you were well aware of them—you just didn’t act upon them.

You figure that it’s no use in making yourself feel worse than you already have been feeling all week. Now that the problem has been uncovered, the focus now is to make sure that it’s extinguished and won’t be rekindled again. You’re relieved that he’s undergoing the proper treatment he needs, and thankfully, everyone’s extremities are still intact.

Plus, you know Jungkook will make it through to the other side better than ever.

All of you are a little broken in your own way, whether you’ve been bent and twisted or torn and frayed. There is not one person among you who doesn’t struggle with your own self, because regardless of if you like it or not, residing inside every single one of you is the good, the bad, and the ugly. Not only do you learn to live with this reality early on, but you are taught to overcome it and manipulate it to your advantage.

Human emotions are such frail constructs to begin with, but even with what could easily be considered weaknesses, you’re trained to hone them—control, not erase. You are to amplify them when the situation calls for it and to suppress them when they run the risk of getting in the way, but you are never to dispose of them.

In spite of everything, you are human, and they are what make you so.

You can only attempt to hold something in for so long until you explode; it might not always be the cannibalism route, but an eruption is imminent. There have been plenty of instances of this happening—examples, if you will—with the orphans and assassins before you, displayed in the various ways they fought with themselves, whether they couldn’t pull the trigger or they pointed the gun at themselves.

The organization allocated the time and effort to refine their training and selection program so that the possibility of those outcomes has been reduced to the lowest prospect, but even so, they did not resort to producing mindless drones. You are all still your own individual person with innate strengths and weaknesses, the former being polished and the latter being purged.

In Jungkook’s case, he is currently in the process of having his faults expelled, and in harmony with that, you need to make sure that your strengths have been toughened after the experiences you overcame. You can look at it like he is working on his own mission at the moment, so the only thing left for the rest of you to do is continue on your own missions as always.

Without him.

Quiet (jjk)

Summary- A long week away from you leaves Jungkook needy. A drabble companion to glitter and disquiet.

word count - 2.6k

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- smut, fluff, established relationship, chaebol!au

warnings- sub!Jungkook, softdom!Reader, work stress, edging, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, subspace, aftercare, LOVE.

a.n- Ah I missed this couple! Sorry about the late response anon but I hope you enjoy this! <3

A big warm thank you to @chateautaeand@alpacaseok for beta reading this and squealing with me about this Jungkook

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask!

-

People assume that leadership of a company is the most stressed when things are not going well, when the stocks are plummeting and market share is dwindling. However, what most don’t know is that the most stressful time is actually when your company is thriving, because unlike the earlier ways there are no problems to solve, the biggest problem is to predict how others might steal your spot, how your consumers might get bored of you, how even a slight mistake might lead to the downfall. It’s a practice in predicting human behaviour – something inherently difficult to quantify.

Collaborating with Saga was supposed to be a reprieve from the workload, it was supposed to be a way for Jungkook to finally gain the respect of his employees as he transitioned from part-time to full-time. Yet, he still overheard their snide comments, still had to bite his tongue when he received scathing looks from people who blamed nepotism for not sitting in his seat, people who made his job inherently more difficult, sending in sloppy reports compiled by interns. It was infuriating, and Jungkook was so so tired.

Running a hand through his hair, he walked into his dark apartment, tossing his jacket haphazardly on the floor along with his bag before trudging towards the couch and sprawling on it unceremoniously. He could feel every muscle in his back ache, a dull pain that made him whine. He didn’t think he even had the energy to turn on the lights, let alone make it to his bedroom. However, as much as he tried, he couldn’t shut off his brain, strategies from the earlier meeting roaming around like flies, buzzing annoyingly.

With a sigh, he sat up, reaching into his pocket for his phone and dialling your number. Talking to you always relaxed him, especially when he was having trouble with work. It helped that you could organise his thoughts, ask him questions that instantly made him see solutions instead of problems. It was reassuring, and his heart eased a little even as the dial tone rang out crispy through his phone.

“Hey Kookie! How’s my baby?” you answered cheerfully, and in his tired state Jungkook couldn’t help blushing a little, the endearments making him feel soft and fluffy. He knew you were equally as busy, your new job taking a bit to adjust. He didn’t want to invite you over. He knew that he should refrain because you had told him about your first big project and all that you needed to prepare for it, but it had been a long week without seeing you. Too long without the caress of your lips against his, and the longing manifested as a quiver in his lip.

“I’m… okay. Sorry, are you busy?” he asked, throat suddenly dry as he tried to control the wobble evident in his voice.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, the concern lacing your tone bringing out his vulnerabilities as he laid his head back, staring at the ceiling, eyes tracing the beam of light escaping his blinds and dividing the darkness into two.

“Long day,” he sighed, loosening the top few buttons of his shirt before continuing, “Long week. Miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” you assured softly, the conversation petering out as the two of you sat in silence till Jungkook apologised again meekly. It didn’t take you long to make up your mind, leaving work to catch a cab to his home, stopping only to pick up some food.

When you entered the code on his door, you were met by darkness, eyes taking a little too long to adjust as you took off your shoes and jacket, following the trail of Jungkook’s things to the living room where the man sat hunched on the couch. Placing the take out boxes on the coffee table, you kneeled in front of him, aligning your face to his as you held it in your hands.

“Hi sweet boy,” you cooed, kissing the little pout on his face. Jungkook couldn’t take a deeper breath even if his lungs allowed it, drowning in your intoxicating scent as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Lifting you up, he placed you in his lap, grip still an iron vice around you as he nuzzled into you, relishing the way your fingers softly massaged the back of his neck.

“I missed you,” he breathed, finally looking at you, eyes roaming your features. It had only been a week and somehow he had forgotten how beautiful you were, how just looking at you made his heart skip a beat. The soft smile on your lips felt like champagne in his veins, bubbling warmth through him till he had no choice but to capture it with his lips.

Jungkook wasn’t a shy virgin anymore, months of practice with you had turned him confident, albeit a little cocky at times about his ability to turn you into a squirming mess within minutes. But sometimes when he was exceptionally stressed and needy, he forgot about his preconceived notions about how sex was supposed to be. He forgot about the worries about pleasing you just right so you wouldn’t leave him, and he forgot about everything else but the taste of your lips and the feel of your touch. In those times he loved the way you pampered him, instructed him, called him a good boy in that sultry tone that made his mind blank and his blood fizzle. The same tone you were using now.

“Does my Kookie wanna be a good boy,” you said against the skin of his clavicle, your kisses having since departed from his lips to his jaw to his neck, leaving him blissfully sinking into the cushions. His breath came out in little pants, his hands flexing by his side because to truly be a good boy meant now touching you with your permission.

“Please baby,” he gasped just when your teeth nipped at the skin of his Adam’s apple, lust shooting through him and manifesting in the tightness of his pants under you.

You cooed at him, always ecstatic when he submitted so easily, relishing how you could provide him the solace you knew no one else could. Your fingers slowly unbuttoned his shirt, feeling the strong muscles he’d work so hard on, mouth relentless in tasting the slightly salty skin. As you kissed down his chest, you swiveled your hips against his, his cock already hard beneath you providing the perfect amount of friction to have those breathy whimpers escape his lips. Usually you would pull his pants down and sink him within you, ride him till he was mumbling incoherently and cumming within seconds, but it had been too long since you’d had him and you needed to cherish each moment, stretch it out so that by the time you were done his knitted brow and bags under his eyes would disappear.

With his shirt wide open and chest decorated with the blooming scarlet granted to him by your lips, you stood up, watching him as he peered at you from below his lashes, head tilted back. His hands quivered by his sides, chest rising with each breath but he didn’t dare move, and a proud smile made its way to your face. You ignored his little whine as you took his hands and walked him to the bedroom, you heart hurting a little at how tired he seemed, steps heavy and shoulders tight.

“Strip,” you commanded as you sat on the edge of the bed, watching how he slowly revealed more of his skin to you, your panties getting damper as he shrugged off his boxer to stand proudly in front of you. You were still in awe of how beautiful he truly was, rippling strong muscles protecting the most gentle heart underneath.

Standing in front of him, you looked up at him, running your hands over his shoulders, slowly coaxing him into contentment. His eyes fluttered, goosebumps rising as you traced the tattoos on his right arm before your fingers moved to his chest, roaming over his pebbled nipples and solid abs and trailing over the little path of hair that led to his hard dick patiently waiting for you.

“Tiger… baby,” he groaned when instead of gripping his cock like usual you just caressed it with a finger, your nail tickling him in a way that made his dick weep. The more you teased, the more he felt his legs shake, mind turning into the pink mush he craved so much around you. He never thought it was possible to lose yourself in someone this easily. Jungkook was used to hiding himself, being strong so his parents thought he was reliable, being stoic so his friends wouldn’t baby him, but with you he felt like he could be himself, raw and vulnerable because you would never hurt him.

When another featherlight touch threatened to make his knees buckle you guided him to the bed, laying him over the sheets and climbing to lie next to him. He looked over at you, confused, expecting you to straddle him and put him out of his misery but you just smiled, kissing him till all his thoughts floated away.

“Wanna forget everything today?” you whispered, hand cupping his jaw and lips pecking his nose. He felt as if he was melting into the mattress, nodding breathlessly as you started stroking him in earnest. He couldn’t help the high pitched whine that escaped him when you suddenly picked up speed, eager to reach his end. He was on the cusp, legs stretching out as his head leaned further into the pillows. His toes were tingling, sparks shooting up and down his body chaotically.

Seeing the stretch of his neck, so eagerly displayed for you, your lips started sucking on the skin, bruising it deliciously, his moans a chorus swelling through the room. You knew he was close by the way his thighs were shaking, quivering under your forearm and so with a tight grip at his base, you stopped.

“No no no,” Jungkook whined, fists clutching the sheets below him before pleading at you, begging for a release. But you knew Jungkook, knew that if you edged him a few more times he would melt away his stress when he finally came. With a placating sloppy kiss, you straddled him, legs stretching over his thighs as your hand began it’s movements once again, slowly torturing him.

The way he was keening had you throbbing, your pussy clenching over nothing and when you edged him once again he developed that dazed look on his face that made you almost push your panties to the side and climb on. Yet you decided to pull more of those sweet groans when you decided to lick his tip, relishing the salty bittersweet taste.

Moaning loudly, you closed your lips around him, sucking deep till your nose met the little hair at the base of his dick. One swallow around his flesh and Jungkook felt as if he would lose his mind, his breaths turning into wheezes as he tried his best not to cum, tears lining his eyes.

“Please please please I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook protested, yet you didn’t let go. His brain felt like it was escaping out his ears, muffling all sounds as he concentrated on not cumming without your permission. He wanted to be good so bad, wanted to please you, worship you, love you. His mind was filled with just a chorus of your name, the way your nails were taking over his abs making him heady. When he thought he couldn’t control himself anymore, you released him, his orgasm ebbing away just like his sanity. It felt as if he was in a different plane, floating peacefully in bliss from being so good for you. He didn’t cum and he didn’t care that tears were easily streaming down his face, he was so happy that he followed your instructions, and even happier when you kissed him, whispering affirmations in his ear.

“So proud of my Kookie,” you cooed, lying over him, kissing every part of his face, hands wiping his tears. “My good boy. My best boy. My favourite boy.”

Jungkook repeated your praises, mumbling incoherently, eyes closed and unaware that you had shed your ruined panties. You smiled at him, kissing him once more, as he easily let you invade him with your tongue. You guided his poor tortured cock into you, letting your walls envelope him in your warmth, the stretch making you moan softly.

You matched his bliss when you started rotating your hips, the angle making you see stars. It wasn’t long till you lost your patience, changing the pace to one that was faster, more haphazard, one that made the sounds of your bodies colliding echo around the room even louder than Jungkook’s begging.

“Please baby! Please wanna touch you! Wanna so bad,” he cried, hips thrusting into you trying to match your pace on shaky legs. It seemed impossible how many endorphins were rushing through him, making it seem as if he had already cum when he knew he was still harder than he had ever been.

“Go ahead baby,” you moaned and the words had barely left your lips when he was looping his arms around you to pull you to his chest, his grip so tight that you could barely move. Yet the change helped your clit grind perfectly against him bringing you closer, agonizing him as you got tighter around him. His begging was barely recognizable as words, full of yearning, drool dripping as he mouthed at your chin, bringing your orgasm to the cusp.

“Cum for me Jungkook,” you whispered, right as you fell off the edge, muscles quivering under his hold, his loud whine filling your ears. And seconds later he was cumming, unable to stop how he spasmed, squirmed from the euphoria flowing through him as he breathlessly moaned your name again and again.

When the tide had ebbed, you stayed close, holding him tight and whispering how much you loved him, how proud you were of him. He didn’t care that the two of you were messy, sticky with sweat, his mind too frayed to want anything other than the comfort you provided.

It seemed like hours till he was able to speak again, answering your questions about different video games he liked as you brought him back to earth, your fingers gently running through his hair. He noticed that somehow the two of you had changed positions, his head now laying on your chest as he curled around you.

“How are you feeling, my pretty boy,” you checked in, and Jungkook couldn’t help blushing at the endearment. He never thought being called pretty by you would make him feel so alive but the praise felt like a balm to his earlier torture, the haze melting into love as he looked up at you. You smiled at his glistening doe eyes as you kissed his forehead, loving the grin that showcased his teeth and scrunched his nose.

After pampering him with a bath and listening about his day, you changed the sheets, cuddling your giant loveable boyfriend and assuaging his worries. Sometimes you wished you could take his stress away from him, steal it away so it wouldn’t burden his shoulders. But looking at him now as he cutely kisses you, relaxed and boneless, you were happy to give him at least this temporary reprieve.

“I love you, you know that right?” you asked him, gently stroking his cheek as he gazed at you adoringly.

“I do. Thank you for loving me,” Jungkook whispered, kissing your lips once again. “I love you more than anything, my soulmate.”

You giggled at his silly belief but still picked up his hand from where it laid on your waist.

“My soulmate,” you acquiesced with a kiss to his pinky before intertwining yours against it, enjoying the way he smiled before drifting off to sleep.

-

I hope you enjoyed the smut! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

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jungkook + the sunset

Jeongguk is 392. You are 185.

The water blasts scalding hot and fails to boil your marble skin. Often, you wish that it would sear the flesh, sizzle its way through the muscle, right to the bone where it melts the joints and marrow, reduces you to nothing but a carcass although such a term is quite accurate to describe you as you are now. A shell without a beating heart, inattentive to the one that trails at your heels like a shadow, just as dark and malicious.

Monsters and lovers are precisely alike, you see.

“Jeongguk,” is all that you breathe, and even the exhalation of his name is enough to lure the creature, the bathroom suddenly feeling too cramped. Slowly, you turn, and he is there, no misty glass separating heartless bodies, the shower door already having creaked open. The stench of copper is fresh.

“What’s wrong?” His dark eyes never stray from your own, do not seek solace in the swell of your breasts, nor the droplets that slip down the curve of your hip. Blood is gathered in the corners of his thinned lips, smeared across his jaw, painting the tips of his fingers as though he had them dipped between exposed intestines just moments ago. Such a concept would not be entirely surprising, he is becoming rather creative with his methods as of late.

“Kill me,” you try, but it never works, the answer already lifting in the arch of his left brow. “Don’t look at me like that. What’s stopping you?”

“Why would I make you, just to kill you?” Jeongguk remains indifferent, tongue burying into the scarlet honey residue that sticks to the grooves of his lips. “What a waste of all these years. I thought you were over such a childish perspective.”

Nails cut into a palm, thick ink dripping down the drain with the water and something in his expression falters. He hates to see you harm the flesh of your being so carelessly, though it is the simply mouthwatering perfume of your own blackened blood that has his pupils blown, attention scattered. A lightweight drunk, he collapses into the trap with full awareness that it is there.

“I thought you liked to give me what I wanted?”

At that, he takes a single stride forward and clasps at your bleeding hand, not minding the shower as it soaks the front of his charcoal shirt, pasting his raven hair against his forehead. His mouth is a ghost against your palm, unsure whether he is just being gentle or you are too familiar with him touching you like this, experienced enough in the art of ignorance to pretend that his hands and lips are air. Saliva gathers in your half moon wounds, the cells threading back together but a dull prick fourfold, Jeongguk observing the way in which the water droplets unfurl down your nose, cheeks, chin, all the while. His tongue drags all the way to the tip of your forefinger, coated in remnants of black before he drops your hand to hang loosely by your side. The wounds are healed but your situation never is.

“I don’t know what you want,” Jeongguk sighs, wipes water out of his eyes simply for movement, rather than genuine irritation. “You are more of a labyrinth than a monster. A puzzle. Unsolvable. Pain in my ass.”

“Pain in your ass, huh?” You repeat his words, and this time, you are the one clutching for his hand, pressing the fingertips right against the skin where on anybody else, a beat would drum. “Go on then, bastard. You know you can free yourself of such a burden by doing this, just push hard enough and you can rip my heart out. My ashes will wash down the drain.”

Though instead of commanding to the fruitless demand, his fingertips drift northward, trace a collarbone, over the pearl white scarring that his fangs drove through once warm skin, up and up until they can outline the shape of your lips and his gazes gathers something mildly akin to warmth, if it were not so selfish. Jeongguk tilts your chin and you let him, he dips his mouth and you let him, his tongue parts the seam of your lips and you let him, you let him, you let him, because you of all beings know that you can stop him – but he knows that you never will. He likes to think that deep down, the abomination that he created loves him, though maybe the miserable thing is just too tired.

A voice sighs into your mouth. “Don’t be so morbid.”

He tastes like a human freshly dead, the ashy smoke of your essence sucked between the fissures of his teeth for safe keeping because you always taste best to him. No palms roam your skin, no shirt falls to a sopping heap at your feet, no contact or intimacy outside of the connection of your lips barely moving against on another because no, that is not what this is for. Jeongguk kisses you as though he is searching for a truth or a hidden key that lays beneath your tongue, an answer that solves the one thousand questions that dwell within his mind because he is right in saying that you are a labyrinth, and he is damn well far from receiving the solution that leads to your centre.

Though, for the briefest of moments, you indulge him.

You know that he adores your fangs, honing a sick infatuation with the monster that resides in your stomach and reaps whole villages into a sea of scarlet, and so you let them slip out to graze at his bottom lip, to puncture and bring forth the acrid flavour of his soul. The reaction to this is absolutely startling, for he goes completely still, only momentarily, until the fingertips that had traced your lips draw away to delicately hold the side of your face, an action to possess – but you pretend that it is to caress and care. The tip of his tongue slips against your own, sliding across your teeth, purposefully impaling itself upon the tips of your canines so that more of his taste can coat the back of your throat. When you drop your walls for the slightest of moments, his blood tastes like oak and firewood, almost near pleasant.

It is not so bad. He is not all that bad. The thought tastes like acid bubbling on the tip of your tongue but you are beyond used to poisonous ideas and touches that feel like the edges of machetes.

When Jeongguk pulls away, rubies and ink freshly dripping down his chin, he leans toward you once more to lick up the mess that is already cleaning in the water. But he does it anyway, lidded gaze observing the dilated pupils that watch him placidly all the while. It is then, no longer than a brief second in time where the both of you observe up close, that the shower is hot against dead flesh, there is a flutter that brushes against your ribs from within. You are too inattentive to notice.

Jeongguk, however, smiles.

Pairing:Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Genre:Fluff / Humour.

Summary: Today is supposed to be a peaceful day off, but when you find a pair of hands sticking out from underneath your car, it becomes all the more interesting.

Count:2,400+ words.

Note: Adapted from my old story of the same name. Not much has changed, I just liked this piece and wished to repost it!

A day off is well needed after six shifts straight, alongside a whole lot of homework from lectures that have kept you up until the late hours of the evening. Or more so, into the earliest minutes of the morning. So when you notice that your Thursday is completely free of absolutely anything at all, the sight of the blank space on your calendar nearly brings a tear to your eye, and you decide it can be the perfect twenty-four hours to treat yourself, to at long last, kick back and relax. 

And what a lovely day it has been so far! You sleep in without any concern of an alarm, briefly waking only to roll over and drape yourself back into your sheets, welcoming another hour and a half of dreams. The sound of your roommate slamming the front door on her way out to one of her own tutorials has you decidedly getting up, taking your time to make toast, switching the kettle on to boil until you open the coffee jar and realise the dreaded fact that less than half a teaspoon of grains is found stuck to the bottom.

But no, nothing can ruin this day. So you butter your toast and shower, adorn your figure in a lovely, floral summer dress that you have not yet had the chance to wear, sauntering out the front door and into the student parking where your compact little car is blinking its lights in welcome as it is unlocked. You could have walked down to the cafe, less than a few blocks away, but you decide that once you retrieve your coffee, you should go for a drive down to the oceanside. Barely seven minutes has passed by the time you are zipping into a conveniently open parking bay on the street, directly parallel to the cafe, and you breeze into the atmosphere of coffee beans and warmed pastries, waiting in line with patience, no qualms to be anywhere else, using the opportunity to search up maps and scenic routes on your mobile.

The coffee is delightful, scalding hot when it reaches your tongue, but you cannot bring yourself to mind. Clutching at your cup of the roast, you hurry back across the street to your car, unlocking it with the button on your keys and eagerly about to jump into the driver seat with the interesting route you had discovered ready on your cell screen, until–

“Wait!”

The abruptness of the shout has you leaping back with a shriek, butterfingers allowing the biodegradable cup of coffee to clatter down onto the asphalt, the lid instantly popping off and leaking the steaming liquid across the bitumen. The sight is practically unbearable to witness, a moan of agony whimpering from your lips as you watch the rivulets of caramel brown spread in all directions, and then, you are seeing the pair of broad palms and slender fingers that are sticking out from beneath your car. It almost appears as though a dead body has been dragged underneath the vehicle, if it were not for the way that they defensively gesture, causing you to yelp and jump all over again.

“Oh shit, sorry to startle you!” The low voice travels from your toes and up your calves, curving around the shell of your ear and encouraging you, after a moment of hesitancy, to slowly bend and peer beneath the idle vehicle, avoiding the pool of caffeine that is already beginning to dry beneath the sunlight.

There, with his palms facing out to you in surrender, is a boy unfamiliar to your sight, though a delightful one in appearance at that. His hair is tousled dark chocolate, wide eyes akin a deer, rosy lips parted in surprise or awe, you are not entirely sure until they are suddenly spreading into a grin of pearly white bunny teeth at the very sight of you. He is very long too, the soles of his feet almost poking out at the rear to bask in the glorious sunlight, the remainder of his lithe limbs all bunched up, folded origami. A beautiful stranger, lying within the shadows, almost completely pressed against the engine of your car.

“What are you doing?” Is all you can muster, gaping with the remnants of the shock he had instilled in electricity sparking beneath your skin with his obtuse shout. Or possibly, because he is so handsome that you wish to shake the hands of his parents.

“Hiding,” the boy responds in an indifferent tone that is more suited to say just buying the newspaperorthe weather is nice today. You eye him from the peculiar angle, he horizontal and you not quite so until suddenly there are loud shouts in the distance and his face drains of its muted pink colour, a sheet of white casting over instead. “Quick, get under the car.”

You blanch at him before tilting your chin upward to where the commotion is arising. Two boys, who appear to be of similar age to the one taking refuge beneath your Hyundai, are hollering a name that you can barely make out coherently, assumedly belonging to the firm palms that are wrapping urgently around your ankles and– Hey, hold on!

“Jesus, just please get under the car!” The boy urges you, his voice strained and a little irate and although you do not wish to get your nice summer dress dirty, you find yourself completely yielding to this anonymous being. Within seconds, you are almost completely beneath the vehicle, but apparently your movements are not fast enough because his arm is looping as best it can in such a confined space around your waist, dragging you into his chest as the sound of four feet go thumping past, a trail of taunting laughter following in their wake.

“Ow,” you moan at the gravel grazes your elbows, the side of your thigh, pulling a face of distaste down at the already grimy material of your attire before you flit your eyes back up to the ones of the boy, unbelievably close. His arm is still firm around your waist, pressed near uncomfortably between the metal and your flesh.

“Sorry,” his apology feels genuine although the grin that it is whispered around. “Also, hello, I’m Jeongguk.”

“Y/N,” you breathe, disturbing a few loose hairs around your face and the boy now named Jeongguk watches them dance vivaciously against the flushed roses of your cheeks. His smile deepens, you pink further. “May I ask, other than the obvious, why on earth you are hiding beneath my car?”

Jeongguk sniffs. “Playing Manhunt with those two idiots who just ran by.”

“You made me spill my coffee,” you enunciate the words very slowly, “over a sillygame?”

“Well, how about this,” Jeongguk winces as he tries to draw his arm from around your waist, so you momentarily lay on your back for moveable space to be accommodated. Free, free, finally free, he wriggles and writhes until he can get his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, retrieving a small leather wallet. “I will take you out on a date, my treat.”

Choking on the limited availability of clean air, you cough at the complete bluntness, the sheer and utter confidence of this boy that appears to roll off him in tidal waves, and you are getting dragged out into its sea. “A d-date? You only just found out my name!”

“So? You willingly crawled under your car to lay with some guy who could have been a downright creep,” Jeongguk points out. The damn bastard has a point. “Plus, I like your freckles. You have ticked all the right boxes so far.”

Huffing, you watch him fiddle through the tiny plastic sleeves of his wallet. “The creep part is still valid until you prove me otherwise.”

“That’s cool, I can prove that wrong quickly,” he is grinning to himself, finally retrieving a perfectly cut white card and pressing it into your palm. “So, wanna make out?”

“See? You are doing a marvelous job of proving the creep part correct already.” You sigh, faux disappointed, staring down at the block letters and numbers that are inked in black on the paper. “Seriously? Is this a business card?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You look about eighteen.”

“Ouch, low blow.”

“Fine. Tell me why, you who is older than he appears, has a business card?”

Jeongguk continues to smile. Gee, he does that a lot, but you sure are not complaining. You want to see it across flickering campfires and reflected in bathroom mirrors and among tufts of white bedsheets. “To give to pretty girls like you while I am hiding underneath their cars.”

“You are absolutely enthralling,” you comment, a tentative smile itching at the corners of your lips while you tuck the card tightly into your palm where, later, you will discover how the ink has bled into the lines of your skin. “How long must we lay beneath here?”

“Until we have told each other our life stories,” Jeongguk waggles his eyebrows and you bark out a short laugh, which he believes sounds alike to wind chimes. “They will be running back past here any minute. So once they return and realise that I have vanished like the Houdini himself, we can get out.”

Your legs are beginning to ache and so you stretch them out, rolling the joints of your ankles. “Well then, you may as well tell me the life story.”

“Jeon Jeongguk, as you know, twenty years old–“ He ignores the pointed look that you gave him of see, I was not far off– “I study music at The Institute of The Arts. I grew up with nice parents, I spend my days singing to the rooftops and wooing girls beneath cars into kissing me. Seriously, your lips are gorgeous, entertain the idea at least.”

The hope that glances through his eyes at your mischievous smile has your lips tilting higher. He is a human-sized puppy, eager for attention, and you would be a complete liar to say that you do not want to kiss the life out of this boyishly handsome stranger. “Fine. But maybe on our date instead. You have grease on your lips.”

“Aha! So you will call me!” Jeongguk boasts in triumph, wiping the back of his hand against the nonexistent marks on his mouth. “I’m glad. Anyhow, life story, come on.”

You drum your nails against the bitumen and he watches the movement with piqued interest. “Y/N, same age. I study literature at a quaint little university and work in a bookstore just up the avenue. My parents are also rather lovely, and I spend my days drinking way too much coffee, but this is the first time that I have spilled aforementioned precious liquid to then be dragged beneath my very own car by somekid–“

“I am twenty years old.”

“– Who has thus, ruined my pretty dress and, potentially, my perfect day off.”

Jeongguk skims his eyes down your figure then, gaze landing upon the exposed expanse of your thigh where the cotton has been hitched up, the skin smooth, the face of a pearl. “Indeed, it is very nice.”

The way that you flush and fluster fuchsia pink has him grinning that sweet smile all over again, watching your fingers grapple at the dirtied cotton and hide your limbs beneath once more. You are about to make a comment, something along the lines of pervert, though there is suddenly the very distinct sound of gravel crunching beneath the soles of feet and Jeongguk is looking rather frightened. His eyes are saucers of pitch black galaxies.

“Jeonggukie!”

The voice that sings out is high, musical, yet entirely taunting. Gooseflesh creeps up your own spine at the way it slithers beneath the car in a threat. The boy before you starts to kick, scramble, inching closer to your body in the way that he flounders like a fish gasping upon land, and then he is suddenly yanked down to the height of your breasts by hands that you cannot see.

“Oh god,” Jeongguk panics, grappling onto your hips while you lace your fingers around his wrists, but the hands wound around his ankles are too strong and he is being dragged far, far away. “Oh god, oh god, they have got me.” And then, much louder for his two friends to hear. “Ow fuck! Watch it!”

“M-My palms are too sweaty!” He is slipping out of your grasp, and the way that he is being dragged is beginning to pull at you too, making you bend into a rather painful position that has you yelping and releasing him entirely. Jeongguk spits another string of curses behind him and then stares at you, wide-eyed and serious.

“I shall miss you, recent lover!” You call as though you are a woman watching her man set off on the seas, when in reality, he is just being dragged out from beneath your car. The preparation to sprint like a gazelle once he is completely out in the open is evident in his eyes.

“Tell our children I love them!” Jeongguk calls back and you burst into a fit of laughter. “Save us that kiss!”

He smiles with the radiance of sunlight at the way the humour of the situation envelops you. “Of course!”

As soon as his body has entirely emerged from beneath the car, you can hear the briefest of struggles before there is a harsh grunt, and then the sound of feet propelling away at a speed you certainly cannot imagine. The two men stand softly swearing at one another at the rear of your vehicle for a moment until they were also taking off, groaning something about how that damn kid has got some nerve.

When you roll to shimmy yourself out from beneath the car, you notice the tiny puddle of coffee has completely dried up in the bitumen by the golden sun. The outline is explosive, a miniature bomb that had been set off the moment that his voice called, hands outstretched and helpless, begging at your ankles until you decided to lean down and see the boy for yourself.

Remembering the way Jeongguk had stared at you like an unsure, yet excited child, how he had spoken so confidently and promised coffee and clearly much, much more once you thought to call, you decide that maybe your perfect day has not been ruined at all. Anyone who receives the cell phone number of an attractive stranger with a delightful personality to match must be utterly mad to call such a day anything but absolutely brilliant.

Aubade || jjk

| Aubade | n.| au•bade | meaning: a poem or piece of music appropriate to the dawn or early morning. |

⤷Genre:romance; fluff; light angst; husband!jungkook x wife!reader.

⤷Warnings:themes of fear; insecurity.

Jungkook had a way with effortlessly stealing words directly from your mouth.

It was almost facile to your love as he bound you within a stunned silence and left you gaping at his every soft act of love, whether it was a mere kiss stolen before his elders or a plethora of romantic whispers trickling into your ears.

He burned your flesh with an addictive warmth and made you gasp into his affections, reducing you to a stuttering and feeble mess in all he did.

But none of these things mentioned could compare once the disheveled curls and sleepy irises of your lover peeked into the warmth you found in his blankets, his eagerness to have your undivided attention fluttered your heart before the sun had even kissed the sky.

Your sleepy hums and whispers of love that were always promised to escape your lips when you first awakened were taken from your throat once his slender fingers delicately slipped the other half of his ear buds into the hollow of your ear.

“I need you to hear this, love.” He whispered his needs as his only explanation for his excitement that almost trembled his every limb.

Your lips parted in a silent question of what he had meant, but the words melted upon your tongue the moment the rich tones of your love’s voice spilled over your senses as he delicately crooned of the words of love to fill your heart.

Your sleepy mind was suddenly serenaded by every soft note or poetic lyric as his honeyed voice dripped into your senses, to capture your heart with the words of love he confessed your relationship had inspired, you were astounded.

The alluring crescendo kissed your cheeks with the warmth only your lover could elicit, as the crest stirred the butterflies of your stomach in the early hour of blurred vision and sleepy love’s.

The devoted symphony toyed with your heart and dizzied your head within Jungkooks arms until the charming music melted into the cathartic sounds of your love’s even breaths that grew shorter in anticipation of your reaction, and his eyes shyly met yours.

“So, what do you think?” His head fell to the side, curious of your thoughts when not a word dared to pierce your silence.

Your love’s molten eyes stared into yours, so soft and warm as he patiently awaited your answer to his question, the twinkle of hope for your approval within him ensnaring your heart.

The string of the ear buds he shared with you tightly connected your bodies, forcing you to share the little space that waned with every inching closer of his body as his creation overwhelmed you with emotions.

His slender fingers nervously toyed with the warm skin of his hands that you wished to hold so closely, but the stunned silence his soft voice entranced you with kept you locked in your place before him, wrapped in his heart just as well as his sheets.

He was so much like a small puppy as he timidly stared into your eyes, his unkempt hair almost begging to have your fingers threaded through the silken locks as it fell into his gaze.

It was only once you realized you had only stared at him through the tears that gathered behind your lashes rather than answer his request for criticisms did he pour the contents of his heart to you.

“I was just thinking so much of you and how much I love you, a-and the words just poured out-”

The nervousness of revealing the raw depths of his love for you poured his thoughts into you as his hand instinctively reached for yours in search of comfort and tranquility.

His dark eyes squeezed shut until his button nose wrinkled with the force he applied and a soft sigh suffocated each of his flustered ramblings and his hand found it’s place, covering your own.

“I just couldn’t get you out of my head.”

He confessed at last, cautiously revealing his starry eyes once more, fearing your rejection of his particular display of his love for you.

But once he felt the familiar weight of your arms wrap around his shoulders as your body pushed him into the plush pillows that waited to hold your entangled bodies, his stomach twisted with affection, because though he doubted himself, he knew deep in his heart that he was safe in your hands once he stared up into your eyes.

However the gentle caresses of his fingers burned the flesh of your thigh, and his heavy stare suffocated every word that formed upon the back of your tongue, yet your lips parted with confidence.

For the very first time in your relationship, you gathered the words he took from your mouth with his soft love, and you returned his displays of love whilst you whispered into the curve of his ear.

“Jungkook, I didn’t think I could physically hold anymore love for you, but-” your words collided with the kisses you fluttered over the line of his jaw and pooled between your tightly wound forms until you tenderly pressed your mouth to his to whisper into the parting of his lips. “I was so very wrong.”

He tenderly peered up at you through unkempt locks and his fingers dug into your soft flesh as he merely gaped at you, simply enamoured by the passion that held him so dearly.

“I meant every word in that song, (Y/n),” he confessed in the intimate moment you found yourselves wrapped within, his fingers reached into the empty spaces of your own, “you make me whole.”

Your heart warmed at his confession of love that came as naturally as oxygen to his lungs, and you fell for him even more as he raised himself beneath you just enough to meet your lips again, after craving the taste for so long.

And with yet another kiss stolen in the first morning light, Jungkook stole your words once again to leave you gasping in his love, to forever promise to leave you speechless with his heart’s devotion.

Tag list: @holaaaf@yourwonderbelle@lolalee24

More Than Friends || jjk

⤷Genre:romance; fluff; idiots to lovers; college au; oblivious!roommate!jungkook x female!reader.

⤷Warnings:themes of fear; brief mention of nausea; dizziness; pining.

Jungkook was oblivious, almost painfully so.

He was excruciatingly blind to the fond words of every sticky note you placed to his mirror wishing him a wonderful day,

And his ears were torturously deaf to the sweet whispers you murmured into each cuddle session you held at his place that he most likely shouldn’t have overheard.

The flutter of his heart that alighted his chest at the mere trace of your fragrance was overlooked as no more than excitement for your next adventure, and the rosy hue that spread over his cheeks with every kiss you pressed to them was assumed to be a faulty heater.

Even the gentle reveries of kissing your lips or the wonders of how your hair felt around his finger was written off as a mere phase.

Because everyone falls a little in love with their best friend at least once, right?

All of this being why Jungkook gave no second thoughts to your eager persistence to make a filling breakfast together before you classes started, as a team, as friends, rather than allowing him to sneak to the nearest bakery and snag a breakfast burrito that was almost too much to stomach this early in the morning.

Because you shared a home, definitely not because you cared for him.

It was simply routine for him to stare at your features from afar as the warm, morning light accentuated the shape of your face, as you carried out whatever your mind was set to, seemingly unbothered by his blatant admiration, that is until your voice broke him from his focus.

“I love spending time with you, Koo.”

His eyes ascended from the comically large mitts that covered your hands to peer into your own that were already awaiting his.

“I wouldn’t mind spending every morning with you.” His pulse quickened once more at your words but the fact was discarded in the very same breath he took in to answer.

“That’s what friends are for, I’d love to share my mornings with you too.”

He smiled innocently before it quickly faded once he witnessed how the corners of your lips fell, though he remained ignorant of the cause of your change.

Despite your valiant attempt to break through Jungkook’s friendzone to atleast make your feelings known, your lingering glances that remained upon his for a second too long was accepted as nothing significant, just as your hesitance to release his fingers from your grasp as you guided his hands around the whisk was no more than apricity.

Every blantant hint you dropped went unnoticed until you all but shouted to the whole campus of your love. His oblivion of today growing even more tiring than the years you practically confessed to him daily with no response.

Your thoughts of the future dizzied your head until merely thinking of bearing another day by his side without knowing if he returned your love in full physically hurt as you bothed danced around the other in the kitchen.

But you decided you had nothing else but to take matters into your own hands.

So once the familiar heat of his presence stood behind you, you turned upon your heel to effortlessly exchange your positions, his hip pressing into the corner of the counter with every step you took closer.

But just as your eyes locked upon his, they strayed over his features that always tugged your attention back to him, no matter where you found yourself, and your heart faltered in your plan, his perfection drowning your confidence.

Jungkook was the epitome of what humanity wished to be, he was what artists strived in vain to capture, from his dark lashes and his pretty lips to the barely noticeable freckle just below them. He was perfect in your eyes.

“I have something to tell you.”

The words breathlessly spilled into the air between your tightly pressed bodies, as if a cherished secret only ever to be heard by the one who captured your heart.

Your heart slammed against your chest and into his own, but you didn’t have a care in the world, you needed this release.

You drew in a deep breath in one last desperate attempt to settle your nerves and soothe the butterflies he placed within your stomach, before it all spilled out.

“Jungkook, I love you.”

The words slipped past your lips, never to be taken back again now they pierced the air and met his ears. Silence fell over you both as niether dared to answer nor follow up with the weighted confession.

You stared up into his blank expression with the wonders you harbored for more than two decades, still awaiting an answer that manifested itself as a mere furrow of his brows.

You nibbled lightly on the insides of your cheeks as your mind returned to the negatives of your confession, as you waited for the painful sting of rejection or a nervous laugh that churned your stomach.

His lips parted to speak and you winced in anticipation of his next words, but a scoff never came- but rather something you should have predicted.

“Like, more than a friend or?”

Your eyes rounded into spheres as you stared up into his sincere expression, dumbfounded by your clueless love, your eyelid twitching slightly.

He was still so lost with his feelings for his childhood friend, he never wanted to ruin what he did have with you, all for a kiss or the title of a boyfriend, only to lose you in the end. Until you showed him.

You reached to gently dip your fingers into the flawless canvas of his features to cup his cheek within your hands as you rose to the tips of your toes to gently graze his inviting lips with yours.

You could hear your pulse within your ears whilst your fingertips tingled as you kissed your best friend, as a potential lover, that waited for his response.

“I like you a lot more than a friend, dummy.” You whispered, pulling back just a bit to simply admire him once more, just in case he would never be yours to adore again.

Your eyes fell to his lips that were much warmer and sweeter than you expected, even in the fleeting taste you had, to witness your favorite bunny smile of his grace the dewy flesh.

His strong arms which you cuddled into so many nights and ran to for comfort in every drizzly day wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest, without an inch of space separating you.

“I like you too.” He confessed at last, and your eyes nearly spilled over with tears, he was finally yours.

His lips met yours as the tip of his nose grazed your cheek with every sweeping of his tongue, and your breath lathed over his skin to elicit goosebumps.

Your fingers reached to thread through the tousled strands of his hair as your bodies pleaded to come closer, as it just felt right.

And once the timer of the oven startled you within his arms and you both parted, breathless with a smile upon your lips, you only hoped Jungkook caught the hint, you liked him much more than a friend.

Tag list: @holaaaf@yourwonderbelle@lolalee24

Genre: Romance, fluff, comedy, oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Characters: Idoldad!Jungkook, Mom!Reader, Son!JeonJunghyun

Summary:Not only does your son look like his father, his personality is the same as well. They both sleep a lot, eat a lot and whine about everything. But this also means that you’re the mediator when the two get in a fight. What do they fight over? You. 

The sunlight streaming through the curtains woke you up. You groaned, annoyed that the beam was in your face. Reaching over, your arm touched the cool mattress rather than a body.

“Huh?” You raised your head. Indeed, you were alone in bed. Pushing yourself into a sitting position, you got out of bed and shuffled out of your bedroom. You scratched your head, looking around until your eyes fell on the broad back of your boyfriend.

“There you are.” You sighed.

“Oh. You’re awake.” He turned around, waddling over to you with a big childlike grin. His arms engulfed you immediately, his big body practically leaning on your smaller one.

“Okay, okay. Good morning to you too, Koo.” You patted his back, cheek smushed against his chest. Bam trotted over, wagging his tail excitedly.

“Good morning to you too, Bam-ie.” You smiled, holding his head in both your hands to rub his ears.

“I better go wash up. I probably have morning breath.” You said to both boys with a chuckle and headed back into the bedroom. That was until you heard footsteps behind you and saw Jungkook following you with Bam.

“What?” Jungkook blinked.

“Nothing.” You laughed, pulling your hair up into a bun.

“What are the two of you doing?!” You asked as they followed you into the bathroom. Bam just panted with his tongue out of his mouth. Jungkook pretended to busy himself with an imaginary lint on his shirt. Sighing, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get rid of them so you used the toilet quickly and brushed your teeth.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jungkook smiled as he leaned against the wall, staring at you through the reflection of the mirror. You snorted, you had crust in your eyes and toothpaste dribbling down your chin.

“I love you.” Jungkook wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your shoulder.

“Koo!” You were trying to wash your face but he was making the task a lot more difficult than it usually is. When you were done, you grabbed your towel to dry your face.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asked as you were headed out of the bedroom.

“To wake your child.” You replied with a flat look.

“Nooooo. Don’t wake him up yet.” Jungkook whined, holding your waist to block you. You struggled against him as he teetered you back into the room, closing the door with his foot.

“Why? You know very well that if you don’t wake him, he’ll sleep forever. Proves that he really is your child.” You scoffed. Even if you were asking why, you knew very well why Jungkook didn’t want to wake your son yet. There was always a competition between father and son… over you.

“He always steals you from me.” Jungkook complained.

“He’s our son! You should have thought about that when you decided to have a kid. You should be teaching him to share.” You hit his head.

“No. No. No.” He shook his head. Every time he did that to Jin to block him on Bangtan Bombs made you laugh but now that he was doing it to you, you understood Jin’s frustration.

“Come on. He’s as grumpy as you if he wakes up hungry.” You patted his shoulder with a sigh.

“10 minutes.” Jungkook laid you on the bed, using his body weight to weigh you down. You nodded in defeat, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Are you gonna grow your hair long again?” You asked.

“Do you want me to?” He lifted his head to stare at you. You shrugged, looking away. Jungkook smiled knowingly, he knew how much you loved his long hair. You just wouldn’t admit it because you were stubborn but that didn’t stop Jungkook from teasing you. He didn’t tell you that there were already plans for him to have long hair again.

“Omma!” You heard a cry from the other room.

“I’m here, baby! Jungkook, he’s awake. Let me go.” You squirmed.

“Just come here!” Jungkook shouted, refusing to let you go since his 10 minutes was not up yet. Your 3 year old son teetered in steadily, dragging his stuffed bear by the foot.

“Omma! Mine!” He burst out crying when he saw his father hugging you. To him, you were his and not Jungkook’s.

“Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?” You kicked Jungkook’s shin to get him away from you. He hissed, trying his best to not curse in front of the child. You bent down to pick him up to sit in your lap. He buried his face in your chest, wiping his tears on Jungkook’s shirt that you stole.

“There. There.” You stroked his head to console him, standing up to walk out of the room. Bam slowly walked by your side, trying to extend his nose to touch your son’s little foot.

“Are you hungry?” You asked, opening the fridge. That got his attention as he lifted his head to look at the fridge with wide eyes.

“Yoghurt.” He pointed.

“Okay.” You chuckled, putting him on the counter to take the yoghurt out. Grabbing his bowl, you prepared the yoghurt for him, putting some berries inside for him.

Jeon Junghyun, your 3 year old son, the baby that ‘replaced’ Jungkook. From the moment he was born, he was fated to be Jungkook’s son. Besides looking exactly the same, their personalities were so similar that it gave you a headache sometimes. They were both competitive, possessive, whiny and always hungry. It was like you were raising twin sons.

Jungkook was used to being the youngest and getting away with things but he had to ‘grow up’ to be a father all of a sudden. He still wasn’t used to it.

Pregnancy wasn’t exactly easy as well. At least for Jungkook. He developed couvade syndrome or sympathetic pregnancy, where he experienced the same or worse side effects of what you were going through.

The cravings, the nausea, the mood swings, the bloating, Jungkook went through all of that.

“Here you go.” You sat him down in his high chair and placed the bowl in front of him after fixing his bib on. Junghyun clapped and ate the delicious, sweet breakfast treat.

“Jungkook, can you watch him while I get his clothes and tidy his room?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook shuffled out of the bedroom. When he entered the kitchen, Junghyun stopped eating, staring at Jungkook cautiously.

“Can appa have a spoon, Hyunie?” Jungkook asked.

“No, Kookie. This mine.” Junghyun frowned, pointing at himself. Another thing was that Junghyun refused to call Jungkook ‘appa’, settling for Kookie after Hoseok had compared the nickname to the child’s favourite chocolate chip treat. You’ve tried to correct him but he’s stubborn.

“Not Kookie. Appa.” Jungkook corrected.

“Kookie.” Junghyun insisted. Jungkook sighed, going to the fridge to get a yoghurt cup for himself to eat. However, upon seeing his father eat his treats, Junghyun burst out crying.

“What happened?” You came out.

“I was just eating yoghurt.” Jungkook held his hands up defensively. He lifted Junghyun up from the baby seat, patting his back.

“Mine!” Junghyun cried, pointing at Jungkook’s abandoned yoghurt cup. You sighed and headed over to your son. Seeing you, he immediately reached out for you instead while Jungkook resumed eating.

“Baby, your yoghurt is here.” You lifted the bowl.

“You have to share, Junghyun ah.” Jungkook pointed his spoon at the child as he leaned back against the counter.

“Smart coming from you.” You rolled your eyes. Jungkook scoffed, continuing to eat his yoghurt. You wanted to facepalm, Jungkook wasn’t exactly helping much with the situation now. But the parent in you didn’t want Jungkook to give in to Junghyun’s crying. He had to learn to share one way of another. You brought him to the living room area.

“Why don’t you sit here and omma will eat with you?” You wiped his tears. He nodded his head, settling in your lap. You watched as he continued to haphazardly scoop the yoghurt and put it into his mouth.

“You eat so well.” You praised.

“Hyungs want to come over, if that’s fine with you?” Jungkook came to sit on the couch, phone in his hand.

“Sure. You haven’t seen them since this break started anyway.” You nodded your head. Jungkook’s band members were really nice to you and Junghyun, they were constantly offering help.

“Can I have some Junghyun?” You asked. Junghyun didn’t hesitate to hold his spoon up to you.

“What a kind boy.” You smiled.

“Wow. I know there’s differential treatment but it still hurts, Junghyun ah.” Jungkook commented from his position on the couch. You laughed, if Junghyun could talk, you knew that the two would be bickering at every moment.

It wasn’t long before the other boys came. Despite your refusal, they always came bearing lavish gifts for your son. You were definitely grateful, no doubt. But Junghyun was at the stage where he grew every day, he didn’t need branded clothes to wear one day and not fit him the next.

“Your favourite uncle is here.” Taehyung swooped in to lift a freshly showered Junghyun up. The boy burst into a fit of laughter as Taehyung continued to lift him into the air. There was always debate about favourite uncle too…

“Now’s our chance, let’s go.” Jungkook grabbed your hand.

“Koo!” You slapped his arm.

“Thanks again for cooking lunch, you two. Really, I could have made something or ordered delivery.” You said apologetically to the two oldest members in the kitchen.

“We’re here now. You can take a break and that includes one from you too.” Jin smiled at you and hit the back of Jungkook’s head.

“Let me have my chance, hyung. The kid never lets me within 20 feet of (y/n).” Jungkook complained, putting his arms around your waist to hug you tightly. Now that Junghyun was occupied, he could have you.

“Junghyun still have attachment issues?” Yoongi asked as he chopped the vegetables.

“Yeah. He and this one are constantly bumping heads with one another. Some days, it’s like taking care of 2 kids.” You pointed to Jungkook with a shake of your head. The two gave you empathetic looks, they knew Junghyun’s attachment was tough and could put a strain on the father-son relationship and the relationship between you and Jungkook as well.

DING DONG

“Sorry, I’m late. Where’s my godson?” Namjoon appeared, removing his sunglasses. You smiled and pulled him in for a hug.

After discussion, Jungkook wanted Namjoon to be Junghyun’s godfather, he idolised and learnt a lot from Namjoon. He wanted Junghyun to experience the same and look up to Namjoon as an example of success.

“You’re looking good, (y/n). It has been a while.” Namjoon complimented with a pat on your shoulder.

“Thank you. You look great too.” You laughed.

“Rapmon hyung!” Jungkook jogged over to hug the leader. The others were right, even after so long, Jungkook never stopped calling Namjoon ‘Rapmon hyung’. The habit was too hard to kill.

“Junghyun ah~” There were the signature dimples as Namjoon waved at Junghyun. Upon seeing his godfather, Junghyun quickly got out of Hoseok’s lap and ran over to hug Namjoon’s leg. He chuckled and picked him up to take a good look at him.

“You’re suddenly so big! Have you been good?” Namjoon asked as Junghyun wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I got you a gift.” Namjoon smiled, putting the child down.

“Namjoon, you shouldn’t have.”

“Anything for my godson.” They headed to the couch hand in hand. Namjoon took a familiar imperial saffron box out. For a 3 year old, Junghyun had way too much branded stuff.

“Look at this.” Namjoon lifted up the ombre denim jacket with the classic Louis Vuitton monograms printed all over for him.

“Wow.” Junghyun was in awe. Everyone cooed at his reaction.

“Thank you, daebu.” Junghyun hugged his godfather, Namjoon was happy seeing him so happy. He let Namjoon help him put it on and he spun around to show everyone, soaking in all the attention that they were giving him.

It was quite funny, Junghyun made the news when he was born not because he was Jeon Jungkook’s son but because Yoongi bought him a white Steiff x Tiffany teddy bear as his first toy. The white teddy bear is the same bear that Junghyun drags around now, although he isn’t as pristine white anymore from being dragged all over the place by the kid.

“I can’t believe he still brings Sogeum around.” Jin chuckled, referring to said white bear that was named after being the same colour as salt.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without it.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think it would be the one he brings around… I didn’t know what to get him as a ‘congrats on being born’ gift.” Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck. You went to the living room to find Bam.

“Come here, Bam-ie. You’re the only one that hasn’t been fighting for my attention, huh? Good boy.” You waved Bam over to shower him in affection.

“Excuse me. What do you mean by that?” Jungkook frowned.

“It means Bam’s the only one not giving her a hard time around here.” Jimin giggled, entering the conversation. Bam wagged his tail as Jimin stroked his head as well.

“Do you know which samchon is which?” Taehyung asked, showing Junghyun their latest group promo picture. Since Junghyun grew up around the boys, he was familiar with everyone but it was always hard for him to point them out in photos with different hairstyles, clothes and makeup.

“Daebu!” Junghyun smiled excitedly, pointing out his godfather confidently.

“That’s right!” Namjoon shook the kid by the shoulders.

“Yoomi… Hobi… Chim! Jjan… Tete!” Junghyun pointed at all the members carefully, calling each of their nicknames. It was cute that he tried to pronounce their names with his baby Korean.

“What about him?” Hoseok pointed at Jungkook’s face, noticing that he had yet to recognise his father.

“Kookie?” He tilted his head.

“Did you see that?! He knew which was me but ignored it!” Jungkook whined, shaking your arms as he told on his son to you. You threw your head back with a sigh, pinching your nose bridge.

“Alright, alright. It’s okay, Koo.” You patted his head while he pouted with a frown. He even sulks the same way as Junghyun when he’s unhappy.

“He still calls you Jjan.” You giggled to Jin as you continued to comfort Jungkook, who was just tucked under your arm as you patted his back. Seemed like there was no break from childcare for you. Jin laughed, finding it endearing how Junghyun picked up the nickname from Hoseok, that he never bothered to correct Junghyun’s pronunciation.

“The cutest is still Yoomi.” Jimin imitated the way Junghyun’s lips protruded as he struggles to pronounce ‘Yoongi’. Even Yoongi couldn’t help but smile. Your phone buzzed, making you wiggle away from Jungkook.

“Sorry. Let me take this, it’s a work call.” You went to the bedroom to answer the call when you saw that it was your work client’s number.

“Come here.” Yoongi grunted as he bent down to pick Junghyun, setting him on his lap as he sat on the couch.

“Wah.” Junghyun climbed on Yoongi, touching his coloured hair.

“They really get amused by everything.” Namjoon noted. You came back out of the room, a perplexed look on your face as you called Jungkook to the room. He immediately got worried, following you.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, squeezing your hand.

“My client is going back to America and wants the papers sent to him now. I thought I had until the end of the week so my work laptop is at my desk in the office, not here with me.” You sighed heavily. Today was your off day so you never thought that you would be rushed to send documents over.

“So what do you want to do?” He asked. Whatever you needed, Jungkook would help you.

“I’ll need to head to the office for a bit. Do you think you and the others can watch Junghyun for a while?” You requested timidly. Jungkook’s eyes widened, the fear evident in them.

“You’ll be fine, Koo. He’s your son.” You squeezed his arm.

“My son that hates me.” He corrected.

“He doesn’t hate you, don’t say that. If you need help, you have the other 6 here to help.” You persuaded.

“Alright.” Jungkook agreed, not wanting to add more to your stress by being difficult. You were right, Junghyun is his son. He could handle him for a while. And he had his loveable uncles and godfather here to entertain him if he didn’t want Jungkook anyway. You gave Jungkook a kiss and went to get ready to head to the office.

“I’ll sneak you out.” Jungkook whispered. You nodded, following him. Luckily Jungkook’s body was big enough to cover you. The both of you stood in the hallway, hugging each other.

“I can drop you off.” Jungkook offered.

“No need. I already called a cab. Thank you.” You gave him another kiss before you left and Jungkook went back into the house.

“Some urgent work needed her. Even if it is her day off.” Jungkook told the others briefly, he didn’t want Junghyun to realise you’re gone and start crying. For now, he was still distracted by his uncles to notice.

“Lunch is almost ready.” Jin announced.

“Time to eat.” Namjoon lifted Junghyun up, going to the washroom to wash his hands before eating. Going to the dining area, Namjoon out Junghyun in his chair and put the bib on.

“I should set some food aside for (y/n). She might be hungry when she comes back.” Jungkook put some of each dish into a container, setting it aside to let it cool. He’ll put it in the fridge for you so you can heat it up later.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked. Junghyun grinned and nodded his head. Yoongi helped cut Junghyun’s food up in his kids tray, it was beef, vegetable fried rice and soup. The adults had an extra dish stir fried spicy pork belly too. Jungkook put Junghyun’s tray in front of him.

“Hold on. What did omma say before you eat?” Jungkook gently held Junghyun’s wrist before he could start. Junghyun blinked in confusion.

“Tha…” Namjoon tried to hint.

“Thank you for the food Yoomi samchon and Jjan samchon.” He said.

“Enjoy the food.” Yoongi said, leaning his head on his palm with an endearing smile on his face. Junghyun reminded the older members of young Jungkook sometimes, it was so adorable.

“What a good eater.” Namjoon praised, watching Junghyun shovel food into his mouth. Across the table, his father was doing to same.

“Yah. Eat properly, you need to set a good example to him.” Jin lectured Jungkook. Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh at the father and son duo, taking his phone out to take a picture of them, both faces nearly buried in their food.

“Seaweed.” Junghyun held his spoon out.

“Seaweed, please.” Taehyung corrected.

“Seaweed, please Chim samchon.” Junghyun repeated. Jimin smiled, patting his head, and opened the packet, placing the seaweed sheets onto Junghyun’s tray. Noticing that he was only eating seaweed and not touching the other food, Jungkook blocked Junghyun’s spoon with his chopsticks, making the child frown unhappily.

“Hyunie, eat the other delicious food too.” Jungkook said, putting a piece of beef onto his small spoon. In retaliation, Junghyun dropped the beef from his spoon and picked up a piece of seaweed.

“Hyunie. Eat it together with the seaweed.” Jungkook sighed.

“Let Yoomi samchon help.” Yoongi moved to stand behind Junghyun, taking some rice and beef, putting it in the middle of the seaweed sheet to make a small wrap.

“Try this?” Yoongi held it up to Junghyun’s mouth. Junghyun stared at it before he opened his mouth to eat it.

“More, please.” He looked up at his uncle that towered over him. Yoongi nodded and changed places with Jimin, who was actually sitting on the other side of Junghyun. He made multiple little wraps for Junghyun, who stuffed them into his mouth.

“Is it good?” Namjoon asked. Junghyun turned to his godfather with a nod, taking one of the wraps up to offer it to him. Smiling, Namjoon leaned down to eat one. Junghyun waited for his reaction.

“Wow! It’s delicious!” Namjoon exclaimed. Junghyun laughed at his exaggerated reaction but was happy that he liked it too.

When Junghyun was done, Yoongi and Jin brought him to the living room to play. They didn’t need to clean up since they did the cooking. The rest were still eating anyway.

“Cheese rice?” Jungkook suggested.

“Sounds good.” Hoseok nodded. With the leftover spicy pork belly, Jungkook went to the stove to add more rice and cheese.

“Add some spring onion, Jungkook ah.” Taehyung said. Jungkook went to the fridge to get spring onion and chopped it up, sprinkling it over the melted cheese. He brought the hot pan out.

“Wahhh.” The remaining members were in awe. Namjoon, who was done eating, shook his head at his members’ appetites. He brought his used cutlery to the sink to do later when the others were done and headed to the living area where the oldest and his godson were playing. The remaining 4 stayed at the table, digging into the hot melted cheese and rice.

“(y/n) alright?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah, just some work for the client last minute.” Jungkook replied. You hadn’t texted him, which he took as a good sign. Your last text to him was to let him know that you had arrived at the office.

“Poor (y/n). She’s so busy.” Taehyung pouted. Jungkook couldn’t help the possessive feeling that bubbled within him. He knew his hyungs cared for you a lot but when you were brought into conversations, he just felt uncomfortable.

“Clients are just difficult.” Hoseok said.

“Yeah…” Jungkook said, taking another bite of food. He knew he was quite possessive and shouldn’t be feeling this way.

When you just started dating him, you were very shocked when he admitted that he didn’t like you hanging out with his hyungs when he wasn’t there. He was just worried that you may leave him.

“I don’t know how I can get closer to Junghyun. Not for me, but so I can help (y/n) out.” Jungkook said, wanting some advice. Everyone got along well with his son except him and he was the father. Maybe because their personalities were too similar, it caused them to clash.

“He sees you as someone taking his mom away.” Jimin said.

“Well, she was mine first…” Jungkook scoffed.

“I saw in one of Namjoon’s parenting books that kids at his age have separation anxiety. You know, as they start to recognise their parents and stuff. Maybe Junghyun’s just going through that.” Taehyung suggested.

“Maybe… I mean, you’re hardly here when we’re promoting or touring. So I guess it’s a given that he sees you as a stranger sometimes.” Hoseok said.

“Now’s the perfect time for you to show him that he can rely on you.” Jimin patted Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Argh, it’s hard being a dad.” Jungkook groaned.

BAM!

Junghyun’s wailing filled the apartment. Jungkook stood up, going to the living room to see Namjoon picking Junghyun’s up from his fallen position on the ground to comfort him. He frowned and walked closer, he was concerned if his son was alright but he didn’t attempt to separate the two. He was worried that may just make Junghyun cry even more.

“Appa.” Junghyun saw Jungkook and reached out to him. Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock, this was the first time Junghyun called him ‘appa’. But still, he reached over to retrieve the child.

“There, there. It’s okay.” He said softly, rubbing Junghyun’s back.

“He tripped and fell.” Jin explained. Jungkook nodded, knowing that it wasn’t really anyone’s fault and he knew how cautious his hyungs were with Junghyun anyway.

“I’ll take him to the room. He could just be tired, it’s his nap time.” Jungkook said to the others before going to the room.

“Does it hurt? I know it hurts. It’s okay, Junghyun ah.” Jungkook hushed Junghyun bouncing and patting his back. He used a small towel to wipe Junghyun’s tears.

“Appa…” Junghyun rubbed his face into Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Shh.” Jungkook began to hum a soft song to calm Junghyun down enough to sleep. As Junghyun was drifting off, Jungkook sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with Junghyun on his chest.

Outside, the other 6 heard Junghyun’s cries die down and let out a sigh of relief. They cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes. Namjoon picked up Sogeum and headed to the room to give it to Junghyun. However, he was not expecting to see the father and son asleep. He placed the bear down and left.

“They’re asleep. Maybe we should go.” Namjoon said to the others. They nodded in agreement and got ready to leave.

“Junghyun called Jungkook ‘appa’. After 3 years.” Jimin noted with a giggle.

“I was shocked. And I think Jungkook was too.” Yoongi said, fiddling with his beanie. They all left the house, not before writing a note to Jungkook and leaving it on the table.

When you came back, the house was dark and quiet, only Bam came to greet you. You turned the lights on, put your bag down and headed to the kitchen. You spotted a note on the dining table addressed to Jungkook.

“Where are they?” You checked Junghyun’s room but it was empty. You headed into your bedroom to look for Jungkook.

“Woah.” You couldn’t believe your eyes. Junghyun was asleep on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook was fast asleep, one hand resting on his son’s back. You lightly pinched yourself, wondering if this was a dream. What happened while you were gone that caused this? You left the room to call Namjoon, hoping he had an explanation for their sudden closeness.

“Yeah. He cried and called for Jungkook, calling him ‘appa’. Jungkook took him to the room to calm him down and I guess, they both fell asleep like that. So we left the house.”

“Wow… I mean, this is good but I’m shocked.” You chuckled.

“You’re not the only one.”

“Well, thank you for coming and hanging with Junghyun. I’ll see you soon, Namjoon.” You said and hung up. Going to the fridge, you saw that there were some leftovers with your name on it so you heated that up to eat.

“I won’t forget you, Bam-ie.” You made his dinner, letting him eat when you sat at the kitchen counter to eat your own food.

“Jagi?” You heard Jungkook’s hoarse, sleep-filled voice.

“In the kitchen.” You replied. He shuffled over, smiling sleepily when he saw you. He came over to hug you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I could have accompanied you so you didn’t have to eat alone.” Jungkook said, taking a seat beside you. You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair as you ate with your other hand. He kept his arms around your waist.

“You were sleeping so soundly with Junghyun. I didn’t want to wake my boys up. Anyway, I’m not alone, Bam’s keeping me company too. We’re enjoying our dinner together.” You explained.

“Right…” He yawned.

“I’ll cook something for you and Junghyun after this.” You informed. He nodded his head.

“Jagi?”

“Hmm?”

“Junghyun called me ‘appa’…”

“I heard. Tell me about it.” You encouraged. Even if you knew what happened from Namjoon already, you wanted Jungkook to tell you himself, to share how he felt about that.

“It was nice. He wanted me to comfort him, like he relied on me when he was hurt.” Jungkook explained.

“I’m glad you and him had that progression, Koo. See? I told you he doesn’t hate you, he knows you’re his dad and he knows that he can count on you too. He’ll probably start warming up to you a lot more now, look to you for comfort and start opening up with time.” You chuckled. Jungkook nodded in agreement. He was excited about this.

“I finally feel like I’m stepping into this dad role.” Jungkook confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. You smiled, leaning in to give him a kiss and a proper hug.

“I’m happy to hear that.” You said.

“Come here.” Jungkook put his arms around your waist to bring you over to sit on his lap.

“Think you can appear on that celebrity dad show? Return of Superman? You’ll just need to watch Junghyun for 48 hours without me.” You suggested. Jungkook gave you a flat look.

“Okay, don’t get too excited. The guy called me ‘appa’ for the first time in 3 years. We still have a long way to go.” He sighed.

“It’s a goal to work towards!”

“Who knows, the moment he sees you when he wakes up, I become invisible again. Mothers will always rank first before fathers.” Jungkook shrugged as he stated the truth.

“Look I know that you wanted Namjoon to be his godfather because you wanted Junghyun to have someone to look up to and all that. But more than anything, I want Junghyun to know that he can look up to you. You’re a great role model and I think Junghyun can learn a lot from you.” You said.

“Even if I’m immature sometimes? And can get a little too competitive?” He tilted his head.

“Even so. I think you’re great at what you do and you can teach our child to be just as strong as you when he gets older. You already have the looks down and the competitiveness, so you’re halfway there.” You winked.

“That’s hyungs’ fear, that Junghyun becomes a mini me when he starts hitting the gym. He’ll bully them like I do.” He giggled. You slapped his arm.

“You bully your hyungs all the time with your muscles when they’re nothing but nice to you.” You rolled your eyes.

“But…”

“But?”

“I’m still not letting him have you. You’re mine and you were mine first. So if he thinks I’ll just let him claim you as his, he has another thing coming.” Jungkook declared with a pout.

“Alright. You can continue to fight with him over that, I shall not get involved. You two are always going to compete over everything.” You rolled your eyes.

“Of course. When it comes to you, it’s always a competition. But that goes without saying that I’m already winning. I am many years ahead of him.” He held your chin, pulling you closer to press his lips against yours to give you a loving kiss.

~~

Ko-fi

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undercover.

➳ 1k+ words | fluff, ceo!jungkook, secret agent!reader | jeon jungkook x f reader | nc-17 | flirty!jk, swearings, suggestive language

Imagine yourself lounging on a luxurious yacht’s deck with your favourite cold drink in hand. The sound of crashing waves and distant seagulls shrieking acts as background music as you relax under the warm sun. That is your dream getaway. Of course, the ship had to be peaceful with not many people around. After dealing with various people in your work, crowds would only prevent you from indulging in your relaxation. 

So, you planned to come back to your hometown for a quick family visit and pack your vacation essentials. Then you’d go to the port where the rented yacht is waiting to take you on your merry way. 

You deserve this break, after all. You are one of the best in the field, but you also helped train other new agents back in the headquarters. 

Seeing you worked your ass off had moved your boss to give you a long holiday. She even rented a private yacht for you (since it was all you can talk about whenever someone mentioned a break). You barely stifled your grin when you received the news.

Everything was according to plan - that was until you faced a hindrance in the form of your childhood friend. Not that you hated him or anything. You two talked from time to time, even flirted a little back then, but it never crossed any line due to your unusual occupation. You had to keep everything under wraps, which led you to underestimate how much power he possessed. 

And somehow, you find yourself drifting further and further away from your dream vacation. How so? Well, instead of luxuriating in your rented yacht, you are now sitting in a high-class bar. Surrounded by rich people, looking totally out of place in your midi sundress and straw hat. 

“Did you not get the outfit I sent you?”

“Did you not get I am on vacation?”

Jungkook shrugs in response. “Your vacation can wait, but I can’t.”

“Well, I don’t care! You could have hired someone else who is not on holiday!” You hiss in annoyance, placing your hat on your side. “There are lots of other agents capable of dealing with whatever antics you’d like to drag them into.”

“But they aren’t the best.” Jungkook counters, tugging off his suit jacket and handing them to you. 

“You don’t know that!” You shoot back, tugging on his suit to look more inconspicuous. 

“It wasn’t written in their profiles.”

You want to wipe off that smug look on his face, but you can’t create a scene.

“Okay, Mister I-Am-A-Big-Shot-CEO. You might have the resources to dig into anything you can get your hands on, but that does not give you the right to do so—”

“But I just wanted to know what my dear childhood friend is up to - why she never called, how is she doing—”

“You broke the law and my organisation’s privacy rights. They could have sued you and—”

“But you told them I can be trusted. Plus, I help their funds now. Literally, your headquarters wouldn’t have their tech and gadgets as advanced as now if it wasn’t for me.”

Cocky little shit. 

…But he’s also right. So, you deflate, giving up on arguing with him. You should have known talking to him would go around in circles, so you opt to take a deep breath and ask, “What do you want?”

Jungkook notices your change in demeanour and pouts. “I was hoping you’d put up more of a fight.”

“Well, not with that big ass ego of yours. Plus, the faster we are done, the faster I can catch up on my ride.”

Jungkook sighs in defeat as you switch into your work mode. “A competitor of mine has been making deals with someone from my company. I’ve been receiving reports of copyrights when no one should know of my developing products yet.”

You want to strangle him at this point. This is probably like a B-class case (or even C, actually), and your organisation has a handful of capable agents to deal with this.

“Kook, you’re going to sleep with one eye open tonight.”

“Why? You’ll come visit?” He grins at your apparent annoyed attitude. “Babe, that’s like a dream come true. You never visit my place. Should we get dinner too? I’ll wine and dine you, or do you prefer Netflix and chilling—”

You sigh deeply for the umpteenth time. Seriously, how did that shy boy turn into this menace, you wonder.

“How the hell did you turn into this when you were so nice back then.”

“I am nice.”

“The news article I found about you says otherwise.”

“People would say anything to get attention. Plus, they don’t know me personally anyway. Unlike you, right?”

“I don’t know…” You shoot back. “Things changed.”

“Huh…” Then he leans closer to you, voice reducing into a seductive whisper. “But I’m still me, aren’t I? Still your Kookie?”

You groan, pushing him away. “My cookie monster phase is in the past, okay? I don’t call you that anymore.”

“Why? It’s a cute nickname. Only you would call me that.”

“Kook.”

“Kookie,” he responds with a shit-eating grin. 

You glare at him. “Jungkook. How long is this mission gonna take? You know the longer you waste my time—”

“Mhmm, don’t mind at all. I can pay as much as you’d like anyway.”

As you’re about to fire back at him, there’s a new guest in the bar just arriving on the doorstep when you shush Jungkook with a finger on his mouth. “A guy with a briefcase just enter the place.”

Jungkook blinks before turning his head to glance at the entrance behind him. “Yep, that’s him alright. But we still need to find the rat.”

“Today’s a workday. Are there any uniforms or ID that your employees use?”

“Just ID card, but who’d be stupid enough to bring that here—” His breath hitches as you cup his face in your hands to make him face you.

Apparently, someone just walks to the entrance to approach the newcomer. They face in your direction, which can lead them to identify Jungkook if you’re not careful.

Leaning in so close to him, your lips are mere millimetres away from that it’d look like a couple making out to anyone around you. You tilt Jungkook’s head a bit while you tilt to the other side to keep your eyes on the two men. You both stay that way until the traitor and his friend is back in their seat.

“The rat is wearing a champagne tie, and he’s stupid enough to keep on his ID card around his neck.” You chuckle, releasing him from your hold. Jungkook is still in a daze as you mutter all the details. “—and… Are you listening?”

“Huh?” He snaps out of his trance.

“His name is Yu Junseo, part of the developer team in your company. No wonder it’s easy for him to share classified information.”

“…Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Is that all you have to say?”

“I-I mean, yeah, I’ll look into it.”

“See? It’s not a hard mission at all, Kook. How dare you say there’s no other agent capable of this,” you say exasperatedly, crossing your arms, but the initial annoyance has ebbed away.

“I only hire the best, you know that. How did you read his ID from this far?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head, finishing your drink in one gulp before pointing at your eyes. “Special contact lens, remember? Where you invested your funds on.”

“Ah, right…”

“Mhmm, I better get going now.” You are about to leave your seat when he grabs for your wrist. “What now?”

Jungkook looks lost for a brief moment before he babbles, “Where are you going now? I’ll drive you there.”

You raise a brow at him. “It’s fine, Kook. There’s an Uber nearby. Shouldn’t you go back to your office?”

“Nah, I’ve got time. Especially when I can spend them with you.”

And let’s just say you ended up with an unexpected company for your vacation on an even bigger private yacht.

© artaefact 2022. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOTpermitted

Group: BTS 
Member: Jeon Jungkook
Type: Smut
Word Count: 2.457

When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way.

When you shut everything else out and all you can hear is your feet moving along to the beat of the music, in that moment you’re weightless.  
I was tapping to the beat of the music blasting through the speakers, twirling from one corner of the living room to another.  
My eyes were squeezed shut as the wind blew through my locks. I felt happy as if in that moment, all my worries were lifted off my shoulders and all that mattered was my dancing.
Because of everything happening in life, I almost forgot the things the art of dancing can make you forget about it, at least as long as the music lasted.
“As long as the music continues to play on in your heart, you’ll never stop dancing.” Jungkook once said these words to me when I once again made myself believe that there was no reason to continue dancing when it was not bringing me anywhere.    
I believed I was a fool for thinking that I will ever be dancing for anyone but myself. But when this song came on the radio, it was almost like it casted a spell on me and my body was moving along before my head could follow.
Now I was moving my body swiftly. One step back, one step forth and then a twirl, my skirt spinning in the air. Everything around me ceased to exit and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread on my lips the more I moved around. I giggled and wheezed as my movements became unsteady and I slowly started tumbling, feeling lightheaded from the twirling.
I stopped in my step to gain back my consciousness as I could feel arms wrapping around my waist. I jumped slightly since I didn’t hear anyone coming into the apartment but quickly realized that only one person had access to a locked apartment. He rested his head on my shoulder and I slightly tilted my head to give him better access to my neck, feeling his cold breath against it.
               “You could’ve warned me.” I mumbled, my chest tightening slightly when I wondered how long he’s been there.
He planted a passionate kiss on the soft spot on my neck and smiled, “I thought I was being loud enough. It must have been overtaken by the loud music.”
Jungkook drew small circles over my dress and I dropped my head to hide my cheeks burning with fire. As if he could sense my embarrassment, Jungkook spun me around quickly to face me, his hands resting on my hips. My eyes shot up and my gaze met his, unconsciously I bit down on my lower lip the longer I stared at the lean man smiling at me smugly. His right hand moved up to mine and he intertwined his fingers with mine. They fit perfectly, like they were meant to be there.
He left his other on my hip, his thumb caressing my side and he smirked at me, sexily.
               “Can I have this dance?” he asked, drawing me in closer. His mouth was only a hairs breadth away from mine and I could feel his minty breath on my ice cold lips. I simply nodded at his question, mesmerized by the look on his face and slowly made a step backwards. He quickly followed suit, never once leaving a distance between our bodies.
I smiled up at him as our bodies slowly moved in-sync. And then he gave me a smile that just seemed so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushed through me. He never left my mind, he was always there; mentally if not physically. It was just incomprehensible. He was my one stable force, my one stability in a world filled with chaos and my sweet escape. I loved him so much for that.
I was in love with him and I can’t believe all it took was one dance for me to realize that. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to take the lead and it didn’t take long for me to dance like his reflection. Whenever he took a step backwards, I took a step forward, spun around so swiftly and giggled until I was short on breath. He gently tipped me over and caught me before my body hit the floor.
He kept me in his arms and stared down at me, our breaths forming a beautiful harmony. His dark brown eyes glistened and in that moment, everything made perfect sense. In that moment, only we existed. I slowly felt intimidated by his intense stare and the knot in my stomach tightened as the desire to be close to him grew stronger.
               “How come I’m giving the lead dancer a private dance lesson?” I asked, my voice coming out quieter than intended. Jungkook giggled at my words and suddenly he pulled me up to him, staring at me so deeply that I swore I saw the entire galaxy in his eyes. “Even the best could use a little bit of practice.” he answered simply, his eyes wandering back and forth between my lips and shaking eyes.
“Maybe that’s the reason why even Jin gets more screen time than you.” I answered teasingly, hitting his side playfully.
He immediately let go off my body, making me stumble backwards and furrowed his eyebrows, squeezing his chest, “Ouch.”
I stuck my tongue out at him before walking past him to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I heard footsteps inching closer but tried not to pay it much attention to ignore the desire in me. I rolled my eyes at his dirty clothes spread out on the floor. “Clean up after yourself, Jungkook.” I yelled, opening the dishwasher to get a clean glass. Before I could open it fully, Jungkook slammed it back shut from behind me and moved my hair away from my neck, licking up a stripe and sending shivers down my spine. “Seeing you move around so passionately made me never want to leave you again.” He breathed into my neck and I moaned in response.
               “You’re absolutely wonderful Y/N.” he then whispered and before I could respond he turned me around to him and tapped my leg for me to jump up.
I did as ordered, wrapping my legs around his waist. He stared down at my lips, asking for permission to enter and I leaned in, lips crashing into each other.  

His tongue licked along my lower lip, asking for entrance. As I happily obey, his tongue swiftly entered my mouth, exploring every inch of my entrance. I place my hand on his cheek, being confused on what to do with them. I feel him smiling into the kiss and take my hand into his to place it on his chest. He broke away from the kiss, already leaving me feeling breathless and cupped my face, locking eyes with me once again. “Let me see you move some more kitten.” He whispered huskily, your name rolling off his tongue so swiftly. My arousal made it hard for me to form proper words so I just shook my head in approval.

He pushed the door open with my back, never once breaking the kiss and gently laid me down on the white duvet on our shared bed. His tongue was battling mine for dominance, which he won with ease. His hands moved underneath my white blouse and fumbled with my clothed breast while the other swiftly moved down my back and squeezed my butt cheek teasingly. He released my lips and sucked my lower one between his teeth and sucked on it harshly before stepping off the bed.

Instead of taking his pants off, Jungkook stalked towards me, his eyes narrowing as he bit down on his lower lip. A silent moan escaped my lips by the sight in front of me, my core dripping with anticipation to finally be touched. He lifted his shirt over his head and threw it off to the side, exposing his muscular frame to me. I thought that after all these years we’ve been together, I would’ve gotten used to it but it never failed to knock the wind out of me. He pressed his lips to my forehead tenderly and took a deep breath, his eyes closed.

But he groaned and lifted my hands over my head, pinning them against the bedframe. He bend his head and leaned down.

His teeth caught the top button of my shirt and gently tug it free of its buttonhole. My shirt gasped open, exposing the lacy material of my bra. His teeth work their way down and I suck in my stomach as he dipped his tongue into my belly button.

               “Nice underwear.” He admitted and looked up at me, smirking.

I laid my head back against the bedframe and my hands were still pinned above, although he moves one hand closer to the other and takes my wrists in one of his palms. He dips the forefinger of his free hand into the cup of my bra and tugs it down, my breast suddenly free and pushed high with the help of my bra cup gathered beneath it. My nipple bends in the cold air and he licks his lips. He remains still for a moment, not long enough for me to wonder if I made a mistake.
“But you’re even more wonderful without it, kitten.”
Jungkook steadied himself above me, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, tiny drops of sweat falling from his lips. It made him look even more magnificent. And it was taking my breath. He lowered his cherry red lips to my right nipple and placed a gentle kiss on top while the other messaged my left breast, giving both equal attention. 
I moaned under his touch and squeezed his hand over my breast. Jungkook lowered his body down, grinding his restrained dick against the thin material over my aching core, making me feel his neediness. “Please Jungkook…no more teasing.” I was able to mouth between heavy breathing.
Jungkook tugged a loose strain of hair behind my ear and met my gaze. “You want me right?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Yes…” I answered. Jungkook slide a finger between my lips underneath my panties and I breathed out a hiss. But he pulled his hand from my undies before he could stroke across my clit again.
His lips touched the back of my knee and I grew lightheaded at the sensation of his touch. 

It’s been too long.

He spun me around and he kneeled down in front of my entrance. I hissed when I felt his cold breath on my aching core. He licked a stripe up my folds, collecting my juices on his tongue. He split my folds apart with his fingers and licked up a stripe. His thumb moved to my clit and started messaging it in-synch with his kitten-like licks. He slowly slid a finger into me, slowly pushing it further into me. I moaned out at the feeling and squeezed my eyes shut at the stimulation. 
He started moving his finger into me faster and angled it upwards to hit the right spot. My moans became unsteady and I buckled up my hips to add more friction but suddenly, he pulls out of me again, making me moan at the loss of friction.
He gave my lips a quick peck, almost biting my lower lip before leading his pulsing shaft towards my entrance. He placed his tip in front of me, locking eyes with you before pushing into me at once. I whined at the feeling, his cock fitting me so perfectly like it’s meant to be there. 
Once he’s given me time to adjust, he started to move his hips in a perfect rhythm, hitting just the right spot. I moaned under him, the feeling sending electric jolts through my body. 
Involuntarily I started moaning out his name the faster he began thrusting into me. My fingernails dug into the soft duvet underneath me and I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to focus on my heartbeat. Jungkook dug his fingernails into my thighs, making me arch my back in pain. He looked down at my sweating body, smirking at the sight in front of him.
I instantly looked up when I could hear the sweet moans that were escaping Jungkook’s thin lips and saw him throwing his head back in pleasure.

               “Just like that babygirl.” He whimpered, lifting your leg over your shoulder to ankle up better. His sweaty thighs slapped against mine, adding to the beautiful harmony of our heavy breaths. I felt the knot in my stomach tightening as my orgasm rippled through my entire body, making me arch my back in pleasure. My moans filled the room. His eyes lock with mine as he pulled out of me.
He didn’t give me time to catch my breath and got off the bed, aliening his shaft with my mouth.
He slid his dick along my lips, spreading his pre-cum before gently sliding into my mouth. A silent ‘fuck’ escaped his lips as I began to move my tongue around his tip, humming around his shaft. He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my face up to get more of him into my mouth.
I began moving my head up and down his shaft in a steady rhythm. I released it from my mouth, my fingers playing with the tip, spreading the precum over the head and using it to lubricate my hand as I slowly stroked him up and down. Jungkook brushed my hair away from my face so he could watch as his length slid through my lips and down the back of my throat. In and out, I expertly pleasured him.
He parted my lips with his fingers slightly and slid his length between them. He squeezed his eyes shut and gasped as I could taste the familiar salty taste invading my mouth. 

           “Shit.” he mumbled as I stuck out my tongue and licked him clean.

He pulled away from me before offering me his hand and pulling me to my feet. He cupped my face and placed a loving peck on my forehead, making me giggle at his affection.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He suggested before leaving to let me in a hot bath. I felt my eyelids getting heavy as the sound of water spraying was the only visible sound

~Youngmi~