Author’s note: I busted a nut working on this. Tumblr masterlist here.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (oc: female)

Genre: jungkook!dancer au, explicit language,

Rating: R-18

Word Count: 2676

You felt your vision turn into a haze, your spine slowly stiffening and limbs starting to rivet at their joints as you continued to rigorously and religiously practice the choreography.

Sweat dripped from your chin and your shirt stuck to your midriff, the fabric coiled and uncomfortable. The studio was empty as all your crew members had left, with the sole exception of you; who was hell-bent on blasting the speakers and try and melt into the music. You kept maneuvering your body, going over the moves until your knees gave way and you leaned forward to grasp them and save yourself from sinking to the ground.

You were inhaling air in mouthfuls and panting, your legs aching from all the strenuous flexion. The studio door screeches open and in walks Jeon Jungkook, drinking water from his sipper.

He saunters across the room, dishing out a pen-drive from the wall mount above the speakers before turning around and catching the sight of you, huffing and puffing as you resumed your dancing. He eyes you in bemusement and you felt loathe slowly build at the pit of your stomach.

You personally never liked him, he was probably the last crew member you would ever reach out to.  

Why? Because he was perfect, that’s why.

He was always at the centre, melting into choreographies like a leaf blowing in the wind. Not only was he pliable and fluid, endowed and appreciated; he was charming, appealing and all in all, he was a jackpot to the crew.

As for you, you were lagging lately, learning steps slower and getting shadowed at the end of formations- less screen time in the crew’s dance covers and less spotlight. Less importance, less value of existence.

And what ticked you off the most is how Jungkook always seemed to notice your demotivation, try and talk you out of it, and extend a hand when you seemingly drown yourself in a pit of self-intimidation.

What ticked you off the most is that how in a place where people were noosing each other’s throats for the spotlight, Jeon Jungkook was just disgustingly nice. 

As you fell into your routine again, Jungkook set his sipper aside and sat in front of you Indian-style. He watched you with his intense gaze, scrutinizing every move you made. This made you uneasy and you nearly snapped your neck as you exaggerated a move.

Jungkook grunted in frustration, walking over to you after turning the speakers off. He takes hold of your hands, straightening them before bending them again, “Slowly. Yes, like this. Very good.”

You feel tier after watching him sympathize with your blasé incompetence. You follow him for a good half an hour, feeling smaller everytime you watched him reiterate your steps with a surreal kind of passion.

Eventually you cave in, break free from his grasp and stall to the adjacent wall, lean your head against it and bury your face in your palms only to feel them moisten under the deluge of your tears. Jungkook presses a worrying hand on your shoulder, “Y/N what happened?“ 

You sniffle, pursing your lips into a compromising smile as you shrug his hand off, “Nothing, I think I’m going to drop out of the performance. Thank you for your help but it’s just not working out for me anymore.”

You picked up your bag as he stared at you with his doe eyes, full pink lips parted in surprise. He means to form words but only scoffs in denial, gently but authoritatively pinning you back against the wall.

His voice is hoarse and it chills your skin, “Absolutely not, never under my watch.”

He is close, really close so you blink cautiously as he keeps closing the distance like he means for you to see his eyes, his face and his determination, “You are a good dancer.”

His words were too real and too raw for you to mistake them as platitudes. It was more of a confession, an awakening that could only be brought about by his enticing, lulling voice. For a moment you did want to believe him, vision yourself as someone you were clearly not because with his breath fanning against your lips, you were letting him enshrine his faith into you.

He removes a hand from the wall and places it softly on your arm, “Lose the tension in your shoulders. Maybe that’ll help you focus.” He looks at you like he was watching your finer pieces disintegrate in front of him, like you were giving yourself away everytime he touched you so he ventured farther, traced his fingers along your arm and across your neck, “I can help you, if you want.”

You mean to be shocked, mildly appalled but you just keep drinking in his form- sweat-slicked hair, tight jaw and bare biceps in the muscle tee; he looked majestic under the dim lights as he eyed you with equal awe and perhaps, a slight desire.

You inhale the crisp tension in the air, drawing a contemplative expression.

But it’s far too late. Jungkook is already tracing circles on your cheek with his thumb, grazing it over your lips to luxuriate in the plumpness. He pulls your lips apart and leans closer, letting his own lush, tender ones find their place.

He doesn’t kiss you quite yet, just breathes against you and feels your lips quiver at the contact. You claw into the wall behind you, not willing to give in just yet. But it becomes unbearable, like you’re being denied elixir so you whine a little absently, engraving small, needy bites into his bottom lip.

Your reaction pleases him, had him donning a smirk you wouldn’t deem to be healthy for your well-being.

When he finally kisses you, he is tenfold hungrier than you are. He makes sure he is loud and sloppy, so that you hear his crave for you and so that you feel him tasting all of you. He transcends all languages when he is kissing you, letting unspoken strings of pent-up emotions leak into the air and reach your skin, seep under your pores and make you lose yourself in him. He takes your top lip between his teeth, and lapping his tongue at it.

You let him enter you, an unplanned lewd groan escaping as you widened your mouth. You feel sunk pieces of you float as he savours you, turns you into a livewire, making you writhe under him for a little more of him- a little more of all of him.

He pulls away, lips glistening with your taste, “Why do you always keep ignoring me Y/N?”

You catch your breath, evening out erratic heartbeats that were drumming against your ribs way too loudly, “I never ignored you. I just- I never had the courage to be under the same light as you. You- you’re everything everyone ever wants and everything that I’m not.”

He snorts at your stupid excuse, placing a chaste kiss on your jaw and snaking his hand around your waist to make you arch into him. He presses your bodies firmly together, refusing to let the connection rising between slip, “But you were stupid enough to not notice how you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You murmur something but it becomes incoherent because Jungkook is balling your hair in his fist, drawing your head back to expose your throat to him. He trails kisses down the column of your neck, biting and until your skin turns red and sore, a proud implication of him burying his existence into you. You mewl everytime you feel his mouth touch your skin, earning strong bites and sweet flicks of his tongue as he hummed in pleasure. He worked on your neck until it was glowing in his territorial marks, assuring him that tonight was unimaginary and that it would be etched somewhere in the corner of your mind for a very, very long time.

You feel the frayed ends of your nerves bursting with want and desire, making you claw into his tee and hold onto him like you would hold onto your shattered pieces.

He singsongs against your ears as he places hot, wet kisses across your lobe, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

You surrender to him like you would surrender to nirvana: ethereal, jovial and utterly overwhelmed at how his cologne intoxicated your senses, “I want you.”

He laughs softly against your skin, making your eyes flutter in ecstasy and making you shift into whatever he wanted to for the night. He needs you all to himself so he keeps you tilted on the edge, pains you before quaking his love into you, “Tell me how do you want me.”

You, a whimpering, whining and lusting mess, nuzzle into his neck and succumb to the sudden godly control he had over you, “I want you to me.”

“What’s the magic word baby?” he rakes his hand through your hair, teasing your patience.

You look up to meet his gaze and soften your eyes, your lips as you mewl, “Please?”

A garbled groan tumbles across his chest at your needy sight and he pushes you up against the wall again, grabbing your thighs and throwing your legs around his waist, “You’re so pretty begging for my like that.”

You flush at his unrestrained dictation but it brings a throb at the centre of your stomach, making your muscles clench in anticipation. Jungkook cups your , kneading the soft skin, “Tell me babygirl, how do you want me to you?”

You inch closer and take his ear between your teeth, playing with his tousled hair as you enclose him in your arms, “I want you to me so hard that we leave dents on this wall.”

His breath hitches and he snarls, hardening against you and letting the heat from his pants seep under yours, “ baby, the amount of times I’ve fantasized about ing you is no ing joke.”

You gasp when he tucks a hand under your shirt, coursing his fingertips along your stomach and tracing the hemline of your bra and circling your . You keep clawing into his nape, his name in broken syllables as he watches you without pause, learning intricate pieces of you so that he can unmake you with ease.

He yanks the bra down in a forceful tug, caressing your and pressing down on a and flicking it, making your head reel and wetness pool between your thighs. He keeps pushing you farther against the wall, grinding into you hard and restlessly, his now at the threshold of pain from your deprivation. He puts you back down and smirks, “Undress.”

You obey, body curling into his commands as your outfit heaps at your feet. He watches you as you stand and his, waiting for him to merge into you and perhaps, become you- inseparable and divine.

He takes off his tee and he flips you around, making you bend against the wall and curve your into him. He massages the pale, tender mound of flesh before drawing his hand and settling a loud, filthy and punishing spank on the cheek of your . He leans forward to kiss your spine, muttering, “This one’s for even thinking about leaving your dreams and me behind.”

Another resonating slap follows, making tears spill from the sides of your eyes in pleasure and pain, “This one’s for all the times you eye-ed me and left without a word.” You whimpered at the latter, knowing you did stare at him hard and long and, secretly enjoyed the bulge he donned throughout the practice sessions that followed.

Your was now clenching and aching, starved and neglected of his presence and so you reach for him, choking out words in your barely there decibel, “Kook please.”

He hums leisurely at your endearment as he rests his chest against your back, the blazing heat not unlike an inferno. He courses down your stomach, your inner thighs and reaching up to brush his fingertips over your slit, collecting the wetness and breathing into your neck in a befuddled way, “, you’re dripping for me already? Such a good girl.”

You feel his tease your slit, tracing circles at your entrance before burying himself to the hilt, drawing a gasp out of you so loud that you thought you were being into vacuum.

He lays still, stretching and fitting you around his wide girth. But its when you ask him to move that he breaks into a fit of frenzy, consuming you both gently and fiercely, taking whatever you are willing to give.

But when he s you- oh when he s you.

You felt the world move in spirals and fall apart at your fingertips and so you reach out to hold onto something- anything because you were sinking as you made love, only to be pulled up everytime he called out your name. White light shrouded your vision as he worshiped your body, making you believe that you were truly entering heaven in his arms. 

He set a torturous rhythm as he pumped into you, growing and becoming endless, perhaps just like his affection for you.

He delved deeper into the crook of your neck, a drastic drop in his domineering voice as he whispered into your hair and your skin the most beautiful secret you’ve ever been told, "I think I’m falling in love with you.”

So you let him patch your soul over with his, feeling him fill chasms in you that you didn’t even know were empty. He was everything and nothing- he was whole and he was void, he was suddenly your beginning and your end, and you assumed with tiny drops of his tears on your back, you meant the same to him.

As you neared your , you kept sewing invisible strings of emotions together, making your totality quiver, clench your walls and pour your love, soul and very existence into his grasp.

Jungkook comes undone in many courses and you find it befitting, suiting the many shades of silent adoration he has fostered for you over the days. He is warm and filling, tender when he rests his mouth on your shoulder and calls out to you softly like he’s afraid you would disappear once the daze of your lust ends.

You reach out to him, kiss his cheek as you speak for him, “Thank you.”

“What for?” he forces out between bated breaths.

“For fixing me”, your shaky voice emanates. He had sparked in you what you had long claimed to be extinguished, set ablaze a new force to push further, become someone better because he wanted you to be and become someone he believed you could be.

He keeps a toothy grin pasted on his face as you squeeze into the fresh set of clothes you always carry in your duffle bag .

You’re both fluttery and jittery, with him constantly reaching for your hand and looking at you like he was seeing the whole of his universe. You smelt like him and you guessed he smelt like you too, the unison of two disparate beings and blossoming of an entirely nerve-wracking high that you were anxious to chase.

“Shouldn’t we practice?”

He coos while he grins in a way that could likely be lethal, the pink of his cheeks and the clarity of his lovestruck gaze making your heart leap and bound, “But I was hoping if I could take you back to my place, I’m this huge for er for cuddles you know.”

So a smile blooms on your face as you tuck yourself under his arm and melt into his hug as he walks you outside- and you realized something about the snarky boy you once hated but secretly couldn’t live a day without.

With his love he brings change and he has devoted his love to change you and you believe somewhere in a perfect parallel universe, you’re sitting under the stars with him, wishing upon each one of them to keep him beside you always, in all forms and in all ways possible because he is intangible, destined and carved in you beyond space, time and galaxies.