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The rest of the month slips through my fingers like sand—fast, warm, impossible to hold onto.
One moment, it's the start of the week, and the next, I'm tangled in Jungkook's world, wrapped in him.
We paint side by side, mixing colors until our hands are stained and our laughter echoes off the walls.
We challenge each other in the kitchen, arguing over spice measurements, stealing tastes off each other's fingers.
We push each other harder in workouts, sweat-slick and breathless, fighting for dominance in a game neither of us wants to win.
Jungkook promises an orgasm for every set of lunges I complete, and let's just say, my legs are stronger than ever.
"Love, shoes off, it's time to stretch," he murmurs, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I glance up just in time to see him set the heavy weights down like they weigh nothing.
His arms flex, his defined abs glisten, and a bead of sweat trickles down his temple.
His storm-gray eyes flick to mine, warmth softening their usual storm.
His lips curve into that small, rare smile—the one that makes my pulse trip over itself.
I discard my shoes as he reaches for me.
His hands finding their place like they belong there, like they always will.
With effortless strength, he guides me onto the mat, easing me onto my back before stretching out my legs.
"Remember to breathe," he instructs, his fingers kneading into the muscles of my calves as he bends my knee, pressing it toward my chest.
His touch is warm, firm, commanding, and a shiver of pleasure races down my spine.
His eyes lock onto mine, and my breath catches.
He smirks—dark, knowing—before lifting my other leg, guiding it over his shoulder as he leans forward, pressing me deeper into the mat.
The stretch sends a slow, sweet ache through my limbs, but all I can focus on is the way the distance between us is disappearing.
I meet his gaze, caught in the storm of his hunger—raw, unrelenting.
Tiny specks in his irises flicker like lightning in a dark sky, and when a low growl rumbles from his chest, I smirk at the needy, possessive sound.
"Are we still only stretching, Jungkook?" I tease, my voice low, breathless.
His smirk widens into something wicked.
"Just part of the exercise regimen," he murmurs against my lips, pressing forward and capturing them in a deep, demanding kiss.
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𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊
Fanfiction#2 in fanfiction🏅 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗙𝗜𝗔 𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 '𝘼𝙨 𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣' Kim Y/n was meant to be a leverage, an arranged bride offered to the Ko...
