𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐝 ● 𝐉𝐉𝐊

• 21 • mon chéri

𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝙗𝙮 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝗹 𝗿𝗲𝘆 ❣︎

●●●

"You'll faint if you don't stop that, my chérie," Jungkook's dulcet voice announced. His thumb pad pressing down sensually on your lower lip, partially gripping your jaw and pulling the plump lip back from the torture of your overactive teeth.

Your body was breaking on the inside, knees wanting to buckle at the light-but impactful- touch. He saw you troubling yourself with too many thoughts and emotions which your pretty little body couldn't handle. And yeah, this was all happening while you were still at his door. A hot breath cutting through your nose. What you had come for was totally left alone.

Your teacher's flesh-hungry eyes scanned you, skimming the frock's edges a little too much. He gently took your hand into his, moving his thumb on the flesh on the back of your hands, so darn softly. Couldn't stop your heart from thudding incessantly.

"Relax," he whispered, comforting your shallow, inconsistent breathing.

He was pulling you inside, slowly and because you were busy trying to calm down, you just stepped in without a thought. Letting yourself get drawn into him, and you'd honestly never regret it. You were drawn to him like smoker lips to cigarette tips.

● Y/N ●

All I knew was his puffed chest bulging near my face, warm hands rubbing the back of my arms and the husky voice spewing adorable, warm words trying to comfort me.

It's just...I couldn't say it.

Was it the fear of knowing he'll not respond? Or of not knowing what he will respond?

If I felt butterflies with Taehyung, Jungkook triggered an exotic stage of collywobbles in my dear stomach. It was happening right this instant. His effect.

The man towering above saw it worth to close the door, having pulled me in. His smell mixed in my lungs, I wouldn't rest until every alveoli was filled with it.

"...I'm sorry," I muttered. Pushing my eyes down.

"Hey," his voice was as fragile as a flower, two finger tips raising glistening eyes to meet his, "it's fine. These beautiful tears in my darling's eyes don't suit her, I'm afraid." Those rough fingertips travelled up to wipe off the tears that were gathering under my eyes and others which ran down.

I couldn't help but whimper at the lightest touch, simply unable to not get weak at it. Letting my hands fist his tee and as expected, knees buckled after. And at last, the overload of emotions started lessening. It was getting calmer. Helped.

His arm dripping in inked creations got clasped around me, not clearly knowing what had happened to get me this worked up or show up at his door, I know. Yet, his immediate response to my overwhelmed condition was the most rational and comforting. A bed filled with pillows.

He was more than willing to be hospitable. His doors and arms were always open for his chérie.

"I-It-I just..." I wanted to explain, but the crying won't stop. I hadn't cried like this in months.