FADE INTO YOU - Tumblr Posts
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I look to you and I see nothing...
FADE INTO YOU ☕️ jeon jungkook.
pair. barista! jungkook x f. reader | genre. friends with benefits, romance, jealousy, angst | warnings. possessiveness, profanity, pet names, unprotected sex, slight toxic behavior, degradation kink, zenophilia, oral sex, edging, spit kink, exhibitionism, smoking | word count. 4.7k
synopsis. “oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much,” or jungkook has no limits when it comes to you. you’re his, he’s gonna get it through your head, eventually.
You dared bring another fucking guy in his work place.
Was it deliberate? God knows you love your little fucking mind games, especially if Jungkook’s on the receiving end. Oh, he was beyond furious. He had half a mind o spit in the fuckers coffee and smugly watch as he drinks that shit, completely unaware as he desperately tries to shove his tongue down your throat after that, one date in.
But you’d know. You were always better at reading him, deciphering the different expressions on his face. He ought to bruise your fucking ass for this, spank you till you’re dripping wet for him, and then shove his cock in your mouth, facefuck you until your stupid hole is sore, and your cunt is clenching for no one but him.
What a pathetic loser. What the fuck did you see in this clown?
“Dude, you’re shaking. You okay?” Jimin nudges him with his elbow, raising a questioning eyebrow, black hair falling in his curious eyes.
Jungkook shakes his head, and removes his apron angrily, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and phone with him. He knows he’s being unreasonable; you’re single, and beautiful, God so fucking beautiful it physically hurts him, and he’s just the lucky guy that gets to fuck you whenever you’re up for it, nothing more, nothing less. A supporting character. Fuck, he knows. But his feelings are for him, they’re private, and right now they’re out of fucking control.
The urge to punch your date in the throat is driving him up a wall. He needs to get the fuck away from here—away from you and your innocent, ignorant ways. Deep breaths, deep fucking breaths Jeon, she hasn’t fucked him yet, and don’t you dare picture that, don’t be a fucking dick, walk away, walk away now.
“I’m going on break,” he announces, but he’s already on the other side of the counter, going for the door, hands busy with the lighter you gifted him on his birthday.
You’ve said your hello’s, you exchanged the necessary, polite words you do every time you see each other in public so there’s nothing else to say. He doesn’t look at you as he passes by, can’t bear to. There’s nothing else you could possibly want with him, not unless it’s after hours, behind closed bedroom doors. Or bathroom ones—or rooftops, staircases, couches, balconies, the beach that one time, his car, the steering wheel digging into your lower back, just last week—no.
Not fucking going there.
Sitting on the ledge right outside the shop, he puts the cig in his mouth, bringing that silver lighter close to it, lighting the edge of it. Taking an inhale of the stick between his fingers, he feels the harmful calm it produces overtake him for the first time that day. He needed nicotine like he needed your pussy pressed against his face, especially since you walked in with that lame looking motherfucker after you told him you’d call.
You never did.
Jungkook doesn’t want to be this way; he never used to curse this much, smoke this much, not before he met you. You’ve tested him in every possible way a man can be tested, have haunted his every waking thought, have wrapped him around your pretty fucking finger and are twirling him around in a never ending, whiplash inducing dance out of which there’s no escape. He’d do anything for you, be anything for you, god he already has, but you couldn’t care less. There was no love in you for him—not the kind he has for you.
Trust him, he wishes he could cut all ties with you, forget you. Stop loving you so goddamn much. But there’s no button for that, no way he can get out of his own body, discard his heart.
Goddamn him, his fucking dick is hard just with the proximity of you. Knowing you were near, having smelled your perfume earlier, the sweetness of your scent mixed with vanilla and something floral, something he’s only smelled on you, and that cursed mini skirt, fuck him, with those legs of yours… legs he’s had wrapped around his torso, over his shoulders, legs he’s kissed a thousand times over, has run his hands over, has worshipped.
No, you couldn’t do this to him. This is the last time you fuck him over, the last time he lets you—he’s going to put you in your fucking place, he decides. He’s going to have to show you who’s been there for you, who fucks you dumb, senseless—who’s cock you’ve been screaming for over and over again, who’s cum you’re craving down your throat almost every night.
Who you belong to. Because fuck anyone that dares so much as think they can have you. You’re his. He just has to get it through that thick head of yours, once and for all. Before he goes fucking insane.
Finishing his smoke, he ties his hair back and away from his face, getting off your Instagram page at once. Look at him, obsessing over your whereabouts, the tags on your pictures, who you’re with when he’s not with you. In you. Fucking ridiculous.
He goes to your last text conversation, a curt message from you two days ago at three in the morning. His eyes skim over it, reading it in your drunk voice, that delicious slur of your tongue, the way you must’ve slowly blinked at his texting you so late in the night. He wants you to think of him always, all goddamn day. As much as he does.
He wants you as obsessed as him.
[03:21am] just came home.
[03:22am] it’s late (y/n). go to sleep.
He decides to text you, then. Make sure you know he’s not going to let this go, that you’re taking it too far coming there, dressed like that, and with another man when his seed is still inside of you.
[19:07pm] is this my replacement? disappointed in you sweetheart.
If Jungkook’s good at anything—he knows how to get a good rise out of you. All that’s left is to sit patiently and wait. You’ll come to him, eventually. You always do.
A half an hour later, you’re standing in front of him, manicured nails digging into your crossed arms in barely contained anger.
He wipes his hands with a rug, giving Jimin the drinks he’d just made, completely ignoring your thunderous glaring. He feels those eyes pierce through his soul, though. How can he not—he’s never been very good at pretending, and God knows you demand all of his attention.
“Replacement? Really, Jungkook?”
Jimin looks between the two of you, sensing the tension. He’s always suspected there’s something going on, but that just confirmed it. Failing to hide his smirk, he balances the tray in one palm and fucks off to the last remaining table for the day.
“Am I wrong?” Jungkook stares at your mouth, the dark stain of your lips, the curve of your jaw, those ample cheeks of yours—you’ve such a cute fuckable face, it’s one of his worst weaknesses.
He can never stay mad at you for long.
“You are.”
“My apologies, angel.”
The sarcasm doesn’t escape you.
You sigh, leaning against the counter, extending both hands towards him. He blinks at them, his own morphing into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t cave in, not this time. You needed to be taught a lesson. You needed to stop refusing him, treating him like second choice.
“Can we talk about this later?” You say in that velvet voice of yours, the one that never fails to hypnotize him into submission. “He’s waiting for me outside.”
Jungkook let’s out a dry laugh, nodding his head bitterly at your words. There’s no magic behind them today, no spell. “We wouldn’t want him to wait,” he deadpans.
“Jungkook.”
“(Y/N).”
You huff, and remove yourself from the bar completely. His body instinctively moves closer, but his mind is set. A terrible fucking jealousy is eating him alive, setting him aflame.
“You’re acting childish.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not the one two-timing people,” he retorts as calmly as possible, wanting to hurt you a little. Nothing like how you’ve hurt him. “Does he know how filthy you like getting fucked? How there’s another man that knows his way around your body like the palm of his fucking hand?”
You step back, face betraying guilt. “Stop it.”
He shrugs, and winks at you, proud of himself. “It’s the truth, angel. Don’t bring him into this if you don’t want him getting hurt.”
“You’re such an asshole, Jeon Jungkook,” you snapped, eyes glittering with tears. Jungkook looked away at once, his jaw clenching in annoyance.
Are you really taking that fuckers side? How long have you known him? Maybe a fucking week, if he had to guess. Jungkook has had you for years.
“Don’t ruin this for me,” you demanded, stomping your foot like a little kid.
Jimin had returned to his post next to his friend, and was witnessing your amusing temper tantrum. He also noticed the younger man’s struggle, the effort it took to stay put in that place of his.
“Ruin?” He mused over the word out loud, then laughed wholeheartedly, with his entire chest. It was an empty sound, a patronizing thing. “If you want to go with him, be my fucking guest baby girl. But if you do,” he warns, forearm resting on the wood in front of him. “you better forget about me. I’m not fucking sharing you.”
You stood hurt, a sour expression curving those perfect lips downwards, weighing your options. This was the moment Jungkook would finally see if you truly thought anything of him, if he mattered enough for you. Or at least if he was more important than a random guy you picked off a club. And God he hoped, for your sake, you picked him. Otherwise he would not be responsible for the Hell he’d give you afterwards.
Who he’d become if you dropped him. He’s scared of himself.
“What’s it going to be?” He presses, pinning you in place with those dark orbs. “Don’t make me become someone I don’t want to be, honey. You and I both know you’ll regret it.”
“Fuck you.”
Jungkook smiles at you, all charm and danger. “It’d be my pleasure.”
When you sulkily sit on the bar stool, and start typing on your phone, your decision sets in him. You chose him. His chest swells, his cock straining against his pants. He’d take you right then and there if he could; lift you on top of the counter, and fuck into you until all you know is his name, until all other men pale in comparison to him. What he does instead—he pulls your face in for a bruising kiss, his big hand cupping your jaw tightly, his tongue forcing your lips open.
“Get a room, Jesus,” he hears Jimin mutter, but he could give less of a fuck. He’s waited way too long for this. Let them watch, I know how to put on a fucking show.
You melt under his touch, letting him consume you. He growls low, and bites down on your bottom lip. You moan, and everything blurs—you’re alone. He craves nothing but you, needs to have you before insanity renders him incapable of fucking you properly.
“I’m getting off early,” he hesitantly pulls back and slaps Jimin’s chest, apron coming off in a blink of an eye.
“Sure, yeah, cause you can do that,” his friend sarcastically replies, but lets him go anyway.
“Don’t be too mad at him,” you add, smiling sweetly. Jimin smiles back, can’t help it. Jungkook glares, messenger bag over his shoulder, and jumps over the wooden top in one swift move.
“Stop fucking staring, Park,” he wraps an arm around your waist protectively, and takes you away. “I’m off!”
You barely made it to the car, before Jungkook turned you around, locking you between the passenger door and his muscled chest. His knee pushed between your legs, your hands on his sides squeezing the skin there. His head dipped to your ear, voice soothing you open, receptive. When his fingers disappeared beneath your skirt, a gasp tore through your throat, goosebumps rising on your skin.
You wanted him too, your pussy told him so. Your panties were all creamed up, thighs begging to be rubbed together to provide any sort of friction. He gave it to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit. You were throbbing—fuck how much he loved this.
“Tell me baby girl, were you going to keep him around for me to watch while you get fucked? You know you only have to ask,” he whispered, teasing you with those long fucking fingers of his.
In plain sight, for everyone to see. Christ.
“Like Hell you would,” you retort, breathless. “You’re a selfish man, Jungkook.”
He smirks at that, clicks his tongue against his teeth, and chuckles darkly. “You’re right on that,” he pulls you on him and rubs his erection against your clothed cunt. “Can’t let no one touch what is mine.”
“I’m not yours.” A weak remark, as your hips moved with his. He ignored it entirely.
He saw your naked neck, the way you swallowed, and attacked the sensitive skin there, grazing it with his teeth, sucking harshly on it. You hissed at the sensation, yet wanted more. What a contradiction of a woman, Jungkook thought, pulling me in but pushing me away. Unfortunately, for what he was planning on doing to you, he couldn’t be seen.
“Oh, but you are,” he whispers against your cheek, cuffing both of your wrists in one hand behind your back, slowly opening the car door for you to get in. “Oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much.”
He lowered his head to be on eye level with you. He couldn’t possibly make it any clearer, not unless he bought a ring and put some babies in you.
“I own you.”
Your eyes told him so. The musk on his fingers guaranteed it. He smacked the door shut, licking your juices clean off. You tasted like fucking paradise.
He’d fucking destroy you.
Jungkook loved your neck, how easily it could turn purple, how perfect his hand fit around it, almost like it was made for him. He wouldn’t doubt it for a fucking second—the rest of you molded all over him, every nook and cranny.
Lifting you up the kitchen table, he felt like taking you raw, just like that; pushing your skirt up and burying himself in your folds. His thumb hooked between your lips, pressed down to open your mouth, your gaze following his movements closely. Pudding in his hands, to do whatever he pleased. Every time.
“Look at my little slut,” he admired, pushing his thumb in his second favorite hole of yours. “Suck, baby, show me what that mouth does best.” You did, your tongue swiping all around, over and under, wetting and sucking dry, repeating again and again, until Jungkook was satisfied.
He never was. If he could, he’d fucking snort you up, have you run through his bloodstream for the rest of time. His perfect fucking girl, the one that refuses to give into him, the one that drives him mad.
“Are you thinking about him?” He asks you, the same jealousy nibbling at him. It never left—it never leaves. “How his fingers taste, how they’d curl inside that cunt of yours? It’s fucking morphine, did you know, sweetheart? Why do you think you got me on my knees for you?”
He removes his digit, and decides playtime is over. He’s been lenient enough. You notice exactly when the change takes place, when his eyes darken, and your breathing quickens, fear replacing exhilaration. This was the cruel man that could make you come just with his filthy words. As much as you fucking loved it, he was ruthless—absolutely brutal.
“No,” you mumble, shaking your head. “No, Kook, no, I never—”
Not your coffee boy, but the one that uses a belt to teach you lessons. The one that always knows just how far you’re willing to go.
“Shut the fuck up. You knew what you were doing.”
Jungkook spits in your open mouth, squeezing your throat submissive. You struggle to breathe, but you take it, tightening your thighs around his hips in shameful arousal. He watches you swallow, tongue coming out to show him, just as he likes. He rewards you with a suffocating kiss, before he does it again.
“I bet you wondered how his dick would feel against those velvet fucking walls of yours,” he continued his verbal torture, his other hand pushing your panties to the side, feeling your slick, lapping it with his index, before shoving three fingers inside you at once. You hissed, nails digging holes on his shoulders.
“Yeah?” He fucks you with his entire hand, palm rubbing against your clit. You can’t think of nothing else but getting filled to the brim. “Your mouth works doesn’t it, honey?”
“No one’s fucked me but you in two years,” you confess in a haze, looking at him through your eyelids. Silver shone on his lip and eyebrow under the hidden lighting of his apartment. A shadow draped in gold.
You saw the movement of his jaw, the way his mouth became a thin line. He obviously enjoyed hearing that. But was it enough? Fuck no.
“But they’ve touched you,” he bitterly concludes. “They’ve tasted my pussy, my lips… haven’t they?” He sounded so miserable, so resentful. Your heart ached for him.
You loved this man, but he would never believe you, and you can’t blame him. You loved him in a different way, the only way you knew how. And he did the same. You met and crashed like waves. Your silence was answer enough.
The next moment struck like lightning. All you felt was pain, as he pushed you down on your elbows and ripped your panties off you in one movement. You weren’t even able to scream, the action barely registering in your brain.
“Unbutton my shirt,” he instructed you, no part of him touching you whatsoever. A shudder rippled through you, and down to your unclothed pussy. You scrambled to do as told, afraid of the consequences, hands shaking.
Jungkook groaned impatiently. “Stupid fucking whore, can’t even do something as simple as this,” he snarled at your face, every ounce of affection gone. “D’you need help, sweetheart? Perhaps a manual? None of this is helping your case, you know.”
“I’m—I’m sorry, please,” you whimper, hurrying to undo the stubborn buttons.
He cocked an eyebrow, gaze vicious. Hateful. Something kicked inside of you, a horrifying feeling—you were losing him. He was going to leave you after this. All he’s ever wanted, all you very much were aware of that he craved most—to have you all to himself, to call you his. You never gave it to him, always held back, and for what you’ve no idea. But this, having your body, pleasuring the both of you, it was the one thing if not the only part he had, the one thing he could do, he was allowed.
“Please,” he repeated, the word seemingly unfamiliar to him. “Please, what? Are you sorry at all, baby girl? Do you want me to go easy on you?”
You shake your head again, pushing the shirt off him, bulky muscle now exposed, the chiseled chest you so loved running your tongue over, and the V disappearing beneath his boxers, inviting, nearly a threat.
“Fuck me,” you pleaded, reaching a hand out to touch him, his most private part. “Please. I know I’ve hurt you, I’m sorry, please set me straight, fuck it out of me, I want only you, I promise, only you.”
“Lies,” he shouts, and lunges at you, pinning you down by your waist, skirt pulled roughly from your body. You’re met with the ceiling, but won’t dare move, won’t make a sound unless he tells you to. It’s a thin fucking line you’re walking on, one you haven’t experienced a whole lot.
You hear a shuffling of sorts, before a thud and then you feel it—his hot breath on your cold folds. Those veiny hands on your hips again, before he devours you. The vibration of his growling sends you into a frenzy, and you clench around nothing. Your clit between his sinful lips he sucks painfully at first, wanting to hurt you, but gently afterwards, after your cries settle and you’ve accepted your fate.
You’re at his mercy, and you better behave.
“Used fucking pussy,” he spits on it, fingers working together with his mouth to get you ready for his bulging cock. “What am I supposed to do with a second hand slut like you, huh? Begging to be filled with dick, dripping over my kitchen table…” he tsk’s, tongue flat against your wetness. “You don’t fucking need me, right, I’m just another naive guy wrapped around your goddamn finger, you could have me replaced at any time.”
“That’s not true!” you cry out immediately, hand getting lost in his thick brown locks. “Fuck!” A slap cuts the air—on your pussy. And he does it again, smacks the sensitive area until it’s red and throbbing and licking all over his chin.
“Quiet,” he snaps. “I can make it hurt like never before, honey, don’t fucking test me.”
You’re certain you’re losing your mind by that point, the ache between your legs overwhelming everything else, the thought of needing his cock like you need oxygen the only reasonable solution to making the pain go away. You’re coming before you know it, and Jungkook is a starving man, he licks it all up, licks you dry, marveling at the way your body responds to him, always has.
If only your heart would do the same. If only there was something he could do to make it beat only for him, as his does for you.
“No one will make you come like I do, sweetheart, God my fucking witness. No one knows their way around this pussy like I do, no one will fucking take the time.”
You go to sit up, pull him into you, needing comfort, needing your friend back, the one that made you feel good because you asked, not the half mad one, the obsession, the misshapen thing—for once you need his warm love, the one he’s been talking about, the one hiding behind the heartbreak. You don’t care how awful that is, how selfish you sound.
His palm presses down on your stomach as he towers over you, taking all light with him, flushed cock standing proudly between you, inches away from where you need it most. If he would just move closer, if perhaps you could wiggle further down the table…
“Do not fucking move, angel,” he warns, kissing your sobs silent. With a flick of his wrist, your breasts are in full view, his fingers pinching the erect nipples, calloused palms slapping the plump skin, abusing it.
Every touch vibrates directly in your cunt. You’ve become a blubbering mess, needing nothing but that long stick between his legs. A whore, as he said, a whore with no other purpose than taking dick, his dick, only his, because he’s the only one you want, the only one you need, the only one touching you like this, pushing your limits, driving you over the edge—
“Look at you, my beautiful mess,” he kisses your lips again and again, yet refuses to touch your core. Endless torture, when will it end, when will it end! “Do you understand now? This is what it feels having you under me every night, yet not having you at all,” he shushes your gut wrenching cries, removes your hands from your face, forces you to look at him. “My baby, my love…” he coo’s tenderly, caressing all the way down your body, before his arms hook under your thighs.
He positions you just at the edge of the round table, and quickly leans to lap at your cunt one last time. Christ, fucking Heaven in a woman; it’s alright sweetheart, it’s over, shhh, no more crying, I got you where I want you, I’ll take care of you now, no more crying, fuck if you could see yourself right now, so goddamn hot, a fucking vision just for me, just for your man, you perfect angel, you perfect fucking thing, all for me, all this for me—
You couldn’t describe the tidal wave of relief that washed over you as soon as he buried himself inside you. Both hands on your waist, he slammed you down onto his rock hard cock, his pace fast, relentless, absolutely everything you could’ve ever asked for.
“Harder, fuck, fucking kill me! Don’t stop, please, please, please, please…” incoherent thoughts jumbled together in a string of words, yet Jungkook understood perfectly.
Of course he did.
“Fucking slut…only way you deserve to be fucked…I’m gonna flip this cunt inside out, sweetheart, so no one will be able to screw you. You’re taking my cock so well, baby girl, fuck I want to tear you apart, I want to write my name in this pussy, mark it,” he growled in your ear, manhandling you like a goddamn lifeless doll, pistoling into you with incredible force, so much so you’d think he’d bruise you from the inside, but you couldn’t stop begging him to do so, all of it feeling oh so fucking good.
You want me to mark you, don’t you, you want me drilling into you all fucking day, I know you do, you insatiable goddamn pain in the ass, let me hear you, scream for me, baby, let me know who’s fucking you—say my name, he tightens his grip on your throat, his eyes insane with lust.
“Say my fucking name.”
“Jungkook,” you moan into his hair, nails scratching down his back.
“That’s right, baby. Again.”
“Jungkook!”
I fucking love you, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you never love me back, just give me this pussy, let me drown in it, let me get lost and hide forever in your folds, yeah baby? Come for me now, cream on my dick sweet thing, c’mon, one two three—you scream at the top of your lungs, holding onto him for fear life as your body convulses violently, his own release spurting in thick white strips on your stomach as he barely manages to pull out, and everything goes black. He keeps you on him until you calm down, his pace slow and steady, fucking you both back down to reality.
Your breathing is incredibly labored, hair sticking on your forehead. You look so fucking beautiful to him, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. His pretty girl. He kisses your forehead overtaken by the strange feeling in his chest.
“God—I love you, you know?” You mumble against his chin, suddenly very shy.
Jungkook stills, his entire world pausing its spinning. “What did you just say?”
You try to cover your face, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than you, much more determined to look into those eyes that could never lie to him. You could make him the happiest man on earth or send him down to the darkest pits of Hell with just three words.
“I love you,” you repeat hesitantly, looking up at him. His expression crumbles. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, that I’m late and you probably want nothing more to do with me after this, but—”
His palm slams your mouth shut. Your eyes widen in surprise.
Jungkook then, still inside you, looks at you with the fondest look on his face, his body weight pressing down on you in the most delicious way.
“You’ve no idea what the fuck you’re saying right now, sweetheart, so I’ll forgive you,” he blinks, bewildered, in disbelief. “I never said I’m leaving you. It’s never crossed my mind.”
You furrow your eyebrows, but your words are muffled. He seems to comprehend perfectly well, anyway.
“You could kill me if you wanted, and I’d willingly die by your hand, (Y/N). Have you any idea what it means to love you?”
When he kisses you again, you think you can begin to understand.
Hope Sandoval of Mazzy Star.
haven't made a moodboard in a while and it shows...
i feel things either deeply or not at all.
no matter what I do, I waste my time on you
Rose Blood
girlblogger albums <3 *not mine!*
fade into you
strange you never knew
