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alexiajjk · 3 days ago

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this was definitely one of the sweetest stories i’ve ever read and i am in love with the characters 💗🥹💗🥹 i’m a sucker for friends to lovers fics and this one fed me really good hahahaha it was so so so beautiful and fun seeing them developing feelings for each other, accepting them, confessing them and finally finding home in each other’s hearts. thank you for another beautifully written story, mimi! will be rereading it soon. you have such a way with words it’s amazing and i’m truly glad i found your blog. you’re one of my favorite authors ever 🩷

Something About You (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; semi-explicit smut that's not too smutty (m&f oral, condom talk, unprotected sex) (18+)

Word count: 21.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: Wrapping up this feel-good series! I'd hoped to gush about these episodes with you guys weekly but it is what it is, and I'm just happy for the people who tuned in and have and will enjoy this. I hope this story and these characters gave you a bit of joy.

Your eyes dart to the time on your laptop screen.

2:52 PM.

Jungkook will be arriving at your apartment soon for your scheduled 3PM drive to Busan but your meeting with your manager doesn’t seem like it’ll end in the next eight minutes.

It’s Friday, and though you’re glad that she allowed you to adjust your hours today, you also wish she’d stick to the agenda and not add items to it because now, she’s briefing you about a new research proposal when you should just be talking about the one you’re currently working on.

“Yes, I’ll read more about that. So the one that’s due next week…” you say, trying to bring the conversation back to its original purpose. “I worked on the budget with the procurement team with regards to the service provider fees. Do you have any comments about it?”

She asks if they’ve been vetted and you answer that you did your due diligence and that the quotes and sample works are in the attachment you sent her. You’re discussing the other line items when Jungkook opens the door - having already memorized your lock code - and you gesture to him that you’re still on a call.

He gives a thumbs up to say it’s okay, and he gestures to the clothes he’s holding to say that he’ll just change while waiting for you to finish. You nod in response, expecting he’d head to your bathroom, only for him to strip in the middle of your living room, as you can see from your periphery.

You hold in your surprised look and curse him internally for teasing you like this.

But not wanting to miss out on the view, you move your laptop towards the right and adjust your seat so you can have a good look at him. You’re met with a muted incredulous laugh followed by a cheeky smile, as he now stands several feet from you in just his black Calvin Klein underwear.

It’s a shame you’re not close enough to admire every detail of him looking like that, but you have the rest of the weekend to do so. The thought of what the next three days will bring sends chills down your spine.

Your eyes alternate from the screen to your boyfriend, who’s now replaced his running shorts and sports jacket with black trousers, a loose-fit white tank top, and a blue cardigan. You bite your lip to hold in a smile and your manager fortunately doesn’t notice.

She finally realizes that it’s past 3PM and apologizes for holding you up, especially since you started the day much earlier than usual just so you can accommodate the four-hour trip you’ll be making.

“This is great work as always, ___,” she beams. “I’ll let you go now and I’ll see you on Tuesday. Enjoy your cousin’s wedding!”

“Thank you,” you say, bidding her goodbye.

You close your laptop, officially switching off for the weekend, then frown at Jungkook as he walks over to you.

He chuckles as he bends down to kiss your lips while you remain seated. You give in as you always do, and the groan you’re about to let out is replaced with a moan when he swipes his tongue in your mouth and gently cups your cheek.

He pulls away and boops your nose before standing straight up.

“How rude of you to dress up in front of me like that,” you scowl at him.

“And how naughty of you to watch me while you’re on a call with your manager like that,” he bites back.

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, even as you hug him and immediately fall into his arms.

“Sorry, just wanted to tease,” he admits. “I know my body drives you crazy.”

You pinch his stomach and pull away.

“Were you ever this cocky?” You chuckle.

“Nah. It’s a trait I developed just in the last two months. It’s all your fault since you react the way you do,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, we’ve got this weekend.”

“We do,” you say, biting your lip at the anticipation of what’s in store.

Of course, there’s Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding tomorrow afternoon in Busan and the intimate yacht party right after. There’s also seeing Taehyung who flew back for a few days for the celebration. There’s the luxury hotel with all its fancy amenities that you’ll definitely take advantage of. There’s seeing both your families and meeting them as a couple this time. And then there’s staying over at Jungkook’s house on Sunday. There’s lots to look forward to and you can’t wait to get started.

“So… am I gonna see you dress up, too?” Jungkook smiles.

“Sucks for you, I’m already wearing this,” you shrug, saying you’d planned on leaving right as he arrived but your meeting extended you so now you really should get going.

He whines only a little then follows you as you walk towards your luggage.

“Do you have everything packed already? Dress, the right underwear, heels, makeup, evening bag?” He asks, making sure you didn’t forget anything or else it’ll ruin your weekend.

“Yup, I’ve got— oh shit, my bathing suits!”

You scurry to your closet and get a few pairs, knowing that Jungkook would want to swim as much as he can. And while you could watch him for hours, joining him wouldn’t be bad.

“Can’t forget those,” he hums.

Once you’ve got everything packed, you turn towards him to signal that you’re ready, and he heads out your door with you right behind him.

Going on a long drive alone with Jungkook is not a rare thing; it’s something you’ve done a few times just this past year. And so there’s this familiarity you feel - there’s talking about your day, a lot of teasing, smacking his chest, video calling with your friends, and sipping iced coffee and feeding each other the cookies you bought at a drive-thru.

But there are new things, too, like holding his hand and placing it on your thigh for him to caress. There’s shamelessly ogling him and telling him how handsome he looks in his outfit and him admitting that he wears the tank top because of how much you like it. There’s kissing him when you’re at the stoplight, and him suggesting driving to an emergency stop so he could kiss you back properly.

And then there’s talking about other couple things, like meeting your respective parents as each other’s partners this time.

You’ve met each other’s families several times before so it’s nothing new. Your parents know him as the athlete and the teacher and the one you describe as everyone’s go-to person. You’re known to his parents by your profession, too, as well as being the clumsy girl who freaks out when holding a knife and often hurts herself.

“Kook, they probably think I’m useless,” you pout.

“They also know you as the other smart friend,” he says. “They remember that you got an award during graduation. That’s not being useless, babe.”

“Yeah but I mean, you know, domestic stuff,” you say softly. “All I know to do is wash dishes. That’s the only thing I can do when I stay over on Sunday.”

Jungkook understands what you mean and immediately appeases you.

“They’re not of that traditional mindset so you don’t have to worry. My mom’s cooking isn’t the best, too,” he laughs. “My parents just taught me and my brother how to be independent and then we could look out for those who—”

“Are helpless?”

“Who need a bit more help,” he corrects you. “You’re not even that bad. You know how to feed yourself.”

“Yeah, very basic food that only requires less than five steps to make. Or anything I can cook in the air fryer,” you laugh at yourself mockingly. “I don’t know how to make things fancy or delicious like you.”

“Well, basic things help you survive so that doesn’t make you helpless. Plus, you now have a boyfriend who makes the fancy and delicious food for you,” he winks. “Makes it difficult for you to let go of me, yeah?”

“Hey, I like you either way,” you pout at him. “Though I admit that the cooking skills definitely help.”

“Good. I’ll just keep making delicious things for you, then,” he smiles.

“You are good at taking care of me,” you nod. “I don’t really know what I—”

“You listen to me,” he interjects before you say what he thinks you’re gonna say, which is that you don’t take care of him the way he does with you.

He could already sense your faraway eyes and knew that your mind would travel elsewhere again, and to places he doesn’t want it to go to. He hopes you never doubt yourself in your relationship because there’s really so much that you do for him, and he’s worried that he doesn’t tell you enough.

“You listen to my worries. You create a space for me to talk about them,” he continues. “And you give good advice. That’s taking care of someone, too, you know? Because if my mind’s a mess, how would I function?”

“That’s true,” you finally smile.

It takes you back to last Saturday and how you both spent the day at your apartment because he didn’t feel like doing much. He talked about an issue he had with a senior teacher and some other concerns about his students. You just listened to him and shared your thoughts while he laid on your lap, and he told you the next day that he felt better.

Safety, friendship, and intimacy are needs after all, and you suppose they’re what you’re able to give him.

“I told my parents that I’ve been confiding in you and that it’s been easier to do that since we got together,” he adds, wanting to make sure you don’t feel unworthy when meeting them again. “And they know you watch my students’ matches and they think that’s really sweet.”

“Well, I don’t feel that worried meeting them as your girlfriend anymore,” you giggle, appreciating what he’s doing.

He’s just always known how you are and how to calm your mind.

“You shouldn’t. They already like you,” he smiles.

“And my parents already like you, too,” you say. “I’ve told them how you give me massages and piggyback rides and how you cook for me. I mean, not like they have anyone to compare it to but… I guess that says a lot, too, doesn’t it?”

“So does that mean they’ve never met your exes?”

“Just over video call but that doesn’t really count,” you shrug. “There wasn’t really time to see them and I was a bit shy. I’m so babied in my family and they’re also a bit chaotic and I wasn’t ready for my exes to deal with all that.”

“Well, you kinda have no choice but to introduce me now because of the wedding.”

“True. I still would’ve though. But I’m also really excited,” you say as you caress his hand. “They’ll see that I got someone really good.”

“You think they’d expected Tae or Jimin as the friend you’d end up with and not me? They like the guys a lot,” he remarks, remembering your calls to your parents in the past and how they lovingly greeted your friends.

“Not really. They’re just more familiar with those two,” you explain. “When they’d call me during college and I was crying out of stress, Tae or Jimin would be with me so they knew how much the guys took care of me then.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t there,” Jungkook says regrettably.

“Because you were stressed, too! Just like Mo-eum because you both took difficult courses,” you reason. “You know I’ll always be thankful for how our relationship happened, right? And that includes our friendship. We were there for each other whenever we could.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just… don’t want them to wish it was someone else with you since you’ve got other good guys around you.”

“Well, I’m with you. I don’t think I can have anyone better,” you smile.

You lean over for a kiss on his cheek and this appeases him.

You’ve already been on a call with your family a few times since you started dating Jungkook, which is about two months ago. It may seem too soon but you don’t recall feeling this kind of joy and desire before.

Maybe because you let yourself settle into it first for those first few weeks and when you found out he reciprocated your feelings, it was just that natural for the emotions to intensify again.

Your parents already like him. They think that being a teacher requires a kind of dedication and patience that you need in your life, and you know they’re right.

But that’s just one part of him. Outside of what he does, he’s kind and tender-hearted and enjoys what life has to offer. It hasn’t been long but you’re already experiencing more of those sides of him as well.

You’re looking forward to seeing them see you with him; you’re certain they’ll see how different it is this time, too.

You get through the four-hour ride with more laughter and stories. There’s silence in between those, too, and neither you nor Jungkook minds. Your voices are just replaced with soft touches and tender smiles and those are enough just the same.

You finally arrive in the hotel in Busan and make your way to reception to check-in. You meet Jimin and Mo-eum there who have just arrived, and you all leave your things at the concierge so you can proceed to the restaurant for the pre-wedding dinner.

You head to the table where all your friends are and excitedly greet them, hugging Taehyung tightly as you miss him terribly already.

It’s like you’ve all been spoiled this past year. Jeju wasn’t too long ago and now you're out of town again. It’s different this time because of the purpose of your trip and the fact that you’ll be experiencing luxury this weekend, a far cry from the outdoors and homey vibes of the previous months.

You get to relax and feel regal, enjoy the amenities, eat fancy food, and savor the view of the ocean from your bedroom. You almost wish you could afford to stay an extra day or so but staying at Jungkook’s family home is definitely the better choice.

While waiting for Seokjin and Hayoung, you take the time to greet the other guests who made it tonight. Your and Jungkook’s families will be arriving tomorrow before the ceremony so you take him with you when you greet your cousin’s parents. Having known your friend group for years, they tell you how happy they are that you ended up with one of them, too, just like their daughter.

You return to your seats and enjoy dinner with your friends. The food boasts of familiar flavors presented in new and delicate ways. You have fun with how you eat them and join Jungkook in raving about how delicious it is. You drink champagne and inhale the dessert that when it’s all over, you feel full and satisfied.

“So, jacuzzi in half an hour?” Jimin pitches to the group.

Taehyung had booked the hot tub for after hours, and the five of you got excited at having the space all to yourselves. The rest of your friends agree to join. Even if they won’t be dipping, they won’t pass up on drinks with a view tonight. It’s literally Seokjin’s and Hayoung’s last hurrah with all of you so they say they’ll follow later on.

As is the tradition, you book a suite to house the five of you. This time, however, it’s pretty clear who’s sleeping with who.

You and Jungkook enter the room with the queen-sized bed and you turn to him excitedly. He picks up the hint of desire in your eyes and he pulls you in, his hands on your waist now as he admires how you look in your floral dress.

“What are you thinking tonight, huh?” He smirks.

“Hmm, nothing… Just a big comfy bed, a nice shower, a stunning view… A few things we could enjoy,” you say, playing it coolly.

“Yes… if you’re awake,” he teases.

“Hey,” you smack his chest.

“I’m kidding,” he laughs, kissing your cheek. “I’m just saying that I know you’re tired from today. If you fall asleep early, that’s okay. You should get rest because we have a full day tomorrow.”

“I know. I’m actually already sleepy,” you laugh. “But I want to take advantage of this fancy room with you.”

“We will,” he smiles. “Come on, let’s get changed.”

You both put on your swimsuits and head out to the common room. It’s spacious and boasts of a floor-to-ceiling glass window that lets you see the still ocean and city lights from outside. The five of you take a shot of tequila that Jimin brought with him then bring that to the jacuzzi room several floors above.

It’s not the best weather for a hot tub. It’s warm as it normally is for the middle of summer. But there’s something about being in a private area on the 20th floor of a fancy hotel with bottles of champagne and whiskey and plates of food that makes it perfect for tonight. There’s soft music playing and given the size of the tub, everyone decides to join in. Even Yoongi.

From the hot water, to the jets on your legs and back, and to Jungkook massaging your neck and shoulders, you feel totally relaxed. There’s laughter all around, even more when you all rehash memories of Seokjin and Hayoung over the years.

There’s commentary from all your ends, too, especially from the older ones who’d witnessed their relationship up close. The couple shares their favorite moments from the past six years, too, like when they first said I love you and how they made up after their first big fight.

It reminds you that there’s still a lot to learn even when you’re already in a relationship. It’s something Hayoung has talked to you about, as someone who understands what you’re experiencing. It may seem all good and easy because you think you know the other person so well already after being friends for many years but romantic relationships bring their own challenges; no couple is immune from those.

But like she said, it’s the strong friendship she has with Seokjin that allowed them to get through them. It’s a good foundation, she told you. Being able to just talk about things openly, being comfortable and honest, and trusting that they want the best for each other have become natural, and those have been their keys to making it work.

They’re good advice, as you think that you and Jungkook are still in the honeymoon stage. One day, you know the hardships will come. Maybe you’ll have to readjust to each other all over again or witness the births of new versions of yourselves, just like he’d told you before.

But deep inside, they’re challenges you welcome because you know they’ll make you better together and you truly want to make this work, a change that you took note of early on. Plus, you genuinely like Jungkook - not just as your boyfriend or your friend but as a person. You truly admire and think the world of him, so whatever you’ll face, you’d willingly go through them with him, as long as you get to keep him around.

You don’t think you’d do that just with anybody.

“You okay, babe?” He nudges your shoulder as he notices you gaze at him again.

“Yes. Just thinking about how much I like you,” you smile at him.

Jungkook smiles back, as he’s already used to you being like this just two months in. He’s usually a lot more reserved and moderated when it comes to expressing his feelings, as he tends to just feel them, whereas you’re more vocal about yours.

There have been days when he’d see you stressed or frustrated at work but you’d sit on his lap, hug him, and tell him that having him next to you already makes you feel better. There’s this vulnerability in your honesty, and it’s something he’s witnessing up close.

While you’ve told him you admire him for just doing whatever he wants, he thinks you’re just as admirable for feeling whatever you want and there’s so much strength in that. He realizes he might not tell you this enough.

“She’s so cheesy, isn’t she?” Jimin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, as the man - who’d heard your little exchange - approaches both of you.

“She is,” Jungkook hums as he pulls you between his legs and wraps his arms around you. “It’s pretty cute. Was she always like this?”

“Nah. Not in front of us, at least,” Jimin shakes his head. “I guess it makes sense because we weren’t the biggest fans of her exes.”

You laugh at the dig, which you don’t mind; Taehyung and Jimin have valid reasons.

“Hmm, I don’t think I was this cheesy,” you confirm. “I think I’m like this because Jungkook and I have had conversations before, hoping that the other person would find someone good for them to be with and look, it’s us!”

It’s quite serendipitous in its own way, you think.

The three of you giggle and Jungkook tightens his hold around you.

“I’m glad it was you,” he whispers in your ear, prompting you to lean against his chest at the feeling of floating because of his words.

“He’s so affectionate, too, huh?” Jimin smirks now.

“Oh, he is,” you giggle again, as you think back to how tightly he hugs you when you sleep and how he likes to pull you back to him when you wake up. “Has he always been like this?”

You’ve obviously seen Jungkook with his girlfriends and you don’t recall him being this touchy. You wonder if he’s like that even if he’s just with the guys.

“Not at all, not even with his girlfriend in high school or the one during the summer before college started,” Jimin laughs. “I know he’s clingy behind closed doors though. At least that’s what he says.”

“Oh, he is,” you exclaim, earning you a cheeky laugh from the man in front of you.

The man behind you groans though, but now he wraps his legs around you, too. You feel the giddiness at knowing he doesn’t want to hold back when it comes to his affection towards you.

Jimin watches his two best friends with such tenderness. He has a different relationship with both of you - he’s gentle with Jungkook whereas he gives you tough love.

But he knows sincerity when he sees it, and after seeing both of you go through your respective relationships, Jimin can tell that it’s very different this time. You’re both more in control over your feelings even if you don’t hold them back. Perhaps it’s the maturity at this stage in your lives or maybe, it’s really just about finding and choosing to be the right person for each other.

Your best friend’s eyes glimmer and you see the smile behind them. And cheeky as he may be sometimes, you’re glad he made that comment to you months ago that got you paying attention to your feelings and that ultimately got you Jungkook.

The night goes on with a few more drinks and laughter with your friends. Whenever you and Jungkook separate, there’s always a moment where your eyes meet and you share a smile. There’s that assurance even until now, reminding you of this past year and how you’d be apart and somehow you’d find him looking out for you.

You end before midnight and head to your respective rooms. You and Jungkook take turns washing up in the bathroom and staying in the common area with your friends. With a bit to drink and a long day tomorrow, you all decide to head to bed.

“Goodnight!” Jimin calls out to you. “Don’t break the lamp or something.”

You stick your tongue at him before entering your room. Jungkook pulls you by the waist. He flushes you against his chest and tucks his head in your neck.

“It’s a fair comment, though,” he hums, referring to what Jimin had said. “I mean, you did break my humidifier.”

“Yah!” You smack his arm that’s wrapped around you. “I didn’t break it. It fell.”

“Sure, babe,” he giggles. “It totally fell out of nowhere when it was sitting right in the middle of my bedside table.”

You groan in agreement, conceding now because that may have been what actually happened. It was two weeks ago and Jungkook was yapping about it the next morning while you were on a call with your friends and they pieced things together. They’ve been teasing you ever since.

“Uh, you were the one shoving your frikkin dick inside me!” You defend, turning around now to face him.

“Uh, you were the one telling me not to stop,” he counters.

“You’re annoying when you’re cocky,” you frown at him. “No kisses for you.”

“Hey! I’m just stating facts,” he laughs.

But you pull away from his hold to tease and lay on your side of the bed. The soft sheets and thick covers instantly make you feel like you’re being swallowed by clouds; you could fall asleep any minute.

“K,” you hum under your breath, your eyes fluttering close.

“Are you sleeping on me?” He gasps.

“The bed feels so good, Kook,” you moan as you stretch your limbs. “I’m gonna fall asleep soon so get your ass in bed now.”

“So impatient,” he bites back with a smile.

He removes his shirt then switches off the lamp. Your eyes follow him when he does, and you’re thankful for the sliver of light from outside that allows you to appreciate his body. You’d done that during your time at the hot tub earlier and you think you’ll keep doing that; your reaction will probably be the same every time, too.

He finally lies in bed but you’re the one who sits up now. You take your shirt off, something he’s used to you doing by now, and he returns the fond way you’re looking at him.

Even when he’s annoyingly cheeky, his body pretty much shuts you up, and he knows this. Your body does the same to him. You laugh in unison because both of you have come to know each other like that.

You bend down to kiss him, not at all able to resist. It’s soft and gentle, as the exhaustion from today continues to weigh you down. But even then, his tongue explores deeper, and you’re hypnotized by the way it does that your body moves on its own.

You’re on top of him before you know it - your legs on his sides, your one hand softly pulling his hair and the other, grazing his bare chest. And your clothed cunt, rhythmically grinding against his slowly hardening member. His fingers trace patterns on your back, leaving you moaning in his ear.

And also yawning. You think it’s out of pleasure though.

Jungkook chuckles as you pull away, hovering over him with your dazed eyes. You yawn another time, and your face tenses as you try to hold it in. He can tell there’s more you want to do but he also knows you’re very, very sleepy.

“Hey, go to sleep now,” he whispers.

“But—”

You’re interrupted by another yawn, causing him to giggle once more.

“Babe, it’s okay. I want to keep going but I’m sleepy, too,” he assures you. “We’ve had a long day and I’d rather have you awake when we swim in the morning than do anything else tonight. Yeah?”

You pout at him before nodding. You did promise him you’d swim with him in the early hours tomorrow.

He helps lay you back down and pulls the covers over you. He smiles while watching you slowly retreat into dreamland, soft hums and a small smile escaping you as his fingers continue to trace your body. He briefly cups your breast and he knows you like it. You’ve told him a few times that the drawn out pleasure helps you fall asleep and this is one way he does it without tiring you out further.

He presses soft kisses down your jaw then your neck and your body reacts again. You caress his head as he trails south, and you moan his name. He might’ve gone a bit too far so he goes back up and gives you a final kiss on the lips.

“We’ll sleep now,” he hums.

He lays on his side and pulls you close to him, your back flushed against his chest now and his leg wrapped around you. Your hand finds his and your fingers intertwine.

It’s intimate, and even with your hair all over his face, he likes this because he gets to hold you tight. It also ensures that you don’t hit anything, including his face.

He laughs at the thought. It’s something he’d gladly get used to though. And he finds that it’s easy - to adjust, to move around and alongside you, and to settle into you even more.

You wake up to soft kisses on your cheek the next morning. You moan under your breath, wanting more of those but also wishing you have more time to sleep. You knocked out once you closed your eyes last night and you feel like you didn’t move at all.

Which, of course, isn't true. When you open your eyes, you find yourself sprawled in the middle of the bed and the giver of your kisses is standing next to it, chuckling at you.

“Good morning, princess,” he greets. “Come on, let’s go swimming.”

You look at him with your sleepy eyes and hope for a bit of compassion. Perhaps five minutes more. Or 20.

And he sees right through you.

“You can sleep longer, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I can go ahead before it gets crowded. Is that okay?”

“No, I told you I’d go with you,” you mumble.

You did say you’d do this with him, especially after he let you drag him to your Pilates session last week. He decided then that he’d definitely stick to the sports he knows and that won’t get his limbs all tangled while hanging in the air. You reason that his body is just a little too fit for the machine and you may be right.

“Okay then,” he says as he changes into his swim shorts.

“Why do you have so much energy?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs around the bed now. “It’s barely 7:30.”

“I just came from a jog by the beach. The wind was really nice and cool.”

“Oh, good,” you nod, appeased that he gets to do the things he enjoys doing when he’s in his hometown.

He returns to standing next to the bed and you lift your leg for him to massage. Your legs have been a bit sore after this week’s intense Pilates workout. He starts kneading your calf and it feels so good that you could fall asleep again.

“Yah! We have to make it to breakfast at 9 before we prepare for the wedding,” he reminds you. “Come on. I’ll be wet and half naked. I know how much you like that.”

You frown at his teasing even if it’s pretty much a given at this point. But he’s started to enjoy it a little bit more after your friends exposed you to him. They shared more details of how you were during your Jeju trip, specifically about your ogling whenever he went swimming.

It flusters you even if you’re actually able to just admire his body and touch and kiss it whenever you like. Perhaps there are still remnants of disbelief over how you never bothered about it before. Years of going on beach and lake trips, watching him flex his biceps, and commenting on his abs to tease him never made you look twice nor longer than a few seconds.

Now, you can’t get enough of it.

You curl yourself in bed, urging him to convince you a bit more.

Instead of kissing you, he starts tickling your foot, causing you to squeal.

“Jeon Jungkook, you brat!” You groan as you try to kick his hand away and flail your arms while still lying in bed. “You’re gonna regret this.”

Your words don’t have bite in them, but still, he stops and pulls you towards the edge of the bed. He cups your cheeks and peppers your face with soft kisses until you’re finally smiling.

“Happy?” He cocks an eyebrow.

You giggle and nod.

“So can we go now?”

“Yes,” you playfully roll your eyes then head for the bathroom.

You change into your swimsuit then you both exit the room. Out in the common area, Jimin and Taehyung are waiting to leave, too.

“So early and already getting freaky,” your best friend smirks. “Hope you didn’t break anything.”

“He was tickling my foot!” You explain; they definitely heard you squealing.

“Ooh, he’s relentless with that,” Taehyung shakes his head as he understands your plight.

He’s been on the receiving end of that, after all.

You eye your friends who are in their active gear as well. Taehyung will do a morning workout while Jimin is dragging Mo-eum to go for a run.

“Are you sure about that?” You ask your best friend. “You know she’ll stop once she sees a plot of land to find four-leaf clovers.”

“I know, but she promised she'd match my pace,” Jimin shrugs. “She just didn’t wanna be the only one not doing anything physical today.”

“She technically won't be. I mean, I don’t think that watching your boyfriend swim counts as physical,” you hum.

“Are you sure about that?” Jimin cocks his eyebrow. “Your heart rate literally heightens just seeing him in swim shorts.”

Jungkook chuckles because he can attest to that. Sometimes you also just completely zone out.

You groan because you also agree. You turn to the man next to you with a pout.

“You’re not good for my health.”

Jungkook just laughs even harder and your friends join him. You do sound ridiculous.

But he thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the world. You already expressed concern about ogling him too much in front of his family, not wanting them to think you’re a little too much for their son, but he assured you that they’d feel proud you think so highly of their genes.

With you being shameless in front of your friends, he sees even more just how unfiltered and honest you are about your feelings towards him, and it makes him feel really good.

He pinches your cheeks, endeared by how you look at him, until Mo-eum finally exits the bedroom and you all head out then separate to do your own thing.

You and Jungkook find yourselves on the 7th floor this time to swim in the infinity pool. You stand in awe as you look at the scenery of stunning landscape against tall buildings that line the vast ocean. It’s definitely a lot more urban than Jeju but it offers a different kind of tranquility that you feel you can only get from here.

You now understand why Jungkook was insistent on swimming despite your tight schedule. It’s truly breathtaking, especially with the clear skies and cool breeze embracing you. He even passed up on sexy time last night just so you wouldn’t be too tired for an early wake up call.

He sighs in relief as he stands next to you, no doubt admiring his surroundings just as you are.

“Such perfect weather,” he hums as he removes his shirt. “I haven’t had a proper swim outdoors in so long.”

“Well, get going then,” you turn to him, eyeing him up and down while trying your best to keep your cool. “There are barely any people so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Hey, you said you’d join me,” he pouts.

“And I will, after you do your laps,” you smile, knowing that he needs to do those before doing any leisure swimming. “I’ll have a good view from the lounge chairs here. And then a closer look later on when I’m in there with you. I’ll soak up the sun first before getting in the water. It’s more refreshing that way.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Don’t bail on me, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” you smile.

“And uh, try not to drool too much.”

He’s running to the one end of the pool before you could respond. But you watch him from a distance exchange words with the lifeguard on duty then turn to your direction to give you a cheeky wink before he dives in the pool.

Your annoyance at how he’s been enjoying teasing you quickly dies down once you watch him glide in the water. He’s so graceful, as he does butterfly strokes so effortlessly, his broad shoulders and taut arms doing most of the work that you can see, but you know his thighs are working overtime, too.

Your eyes follow his every move and he’s so captivating like this, especially with the sun glistening on his honeyed skin. You don’t doubt the kind of career he would’ve had if he pursued the sport. You’re sure he would’ve excelled and made it to the national team if he wanted to - he’s just that good, and it’s something that others have said about him, too.

But then again, you wouldn’t have met him if he went to a different university, and that’s a thought that terrifies you. Maybe you’d still meet him at a chance encounter if the universe willed it, but you think the way you ended up together is exactly how things should’ve happened.

He returns to where he started and half his body emerges in the water. He turns to you with a smile and a thumbs up. You return the gesture and make a show of cheering for him, earning you a chuckle.

He does a few laps of freestyle while you settle in the lounge chair. You still have a good view of him but you’re able to do so comfortably now with a little less lust and a lot more admiration.

By the time he’s doing backstrokes, you’ve moved to the stairs where you’re already in your bathing suit, ready to join him. He swims towards you and walks up the steps, your eyes now following the water that’s dripping down his torso.

“I didn’t drool,” you tell him proudly.

He playfully shakes his head and chuckles.

“Cute,” he hums.

He reaches out his hand and pulls you towards the water, and once you submerge yourself in it, you moan quietly at how refreshing it feels. You quickly swim towards the other side and lay your arms over the edge to get a better look at the view.

You sigh in relief at how beautiful it is, even more with Jungkook beside you who has a bit of sparkle in his eyes. He grew up not far from here, and he shared during the drive how his family would often head to Haeundae beach on a weekend. He’d enjoy it despite how busy it could get. This is his childhood, and you’re glad that you get to share in this moment with him.

“You know Kook, I was just thinking earlier that if you chose to do this professionally, you would’ve been such a star, skills-wise and looks-wise,” you say as you turn towards him.

“Yeah?” He cocks his eyebrow.

“Totally. And then I imagined you being part of the swim or water polo olympic team and showing up on TV with your wild abs and sweet smile and social media would explode with edits and thirst tweets about you and then you’d be invited to variety shows and be on magazines and get endorsements,” you ramble. “Imagine if you decided to pursue that now? I’d be the kind of girlfriend who’d be cheering so loudly during your matches and maybe trash talking your opponents.”

He laughs at the last sentence but he thinks you’re not wrong.

“I think you’ll be the type to have a burner account and reply to tweets criticizing me,” he hums.

“Oh, I’d do it on a burner and my personal account,” you state. “Imagine how much I could shut them up?”

“You could,” he laughs. “But they’re also either paid to do that, or are bots and aren’t real people.”

“And then I’d hire hackers to find those shits and message their parents and expose them online,” you continue, disregarding what he said. Your face distorts in anger at the thought that he’d get any hate if he really did pursue a different career path. “I mean, who in their right mind would criticize you?!”

“You’ll never know,” he shrugs. “People always find something to complain about other people they don’t know. But hey, it’s a good thing neither of us have to deal with that, right?”

“True. We live such humble and unproblematic lives away from prying eyes,” you nod. “But… have you ever thought about it? About the kind of life you would’ve lived if you decided to take swimming seriously?”

“Hmm, not really. It’s not like being part of the Olympic team was assured, anyway,” he reasons. “And it just… stopped being a dream. Once I started teaching, I was sure I wasn’t gonna regret doing it. Somehow I just knew that’s what I was meant to do, you know? Plus, it meant going to our university, meeting the friends I’d have for life, and getting together with you. I’d choose those in any lifetime.”

You smile at his words, knowing that it’s not just him being sweet or flattering you; they’re his most sincere thoughts. But you’re glad you made it to the top three things that make his current life worthwhile, knowing that he could be living a totally different one had he chosen to study somewhere else.

You think it’d still be a good one though - he’d be doing something he loves and he’d be making amazing friends since you think he just naturally attracts good people. Maybe he’d be dating someone who deserves him, too.

But this is the one he’s living now and considering how much you’re a part of it, you think it’s pretty good. It makes you think of the billion choices a person makes in their life. We never know if they’re right or wrong but we stand by them, and they make us who we are.

You wonder if you chose to join your sister in her art classes after school instead of reading your textbooks while waiting for her to finish, would you have been less studious? And would that have made you less inclined to be a researcher? Then maybe you wouldn’t be living the life you have now, and there’s a chance you wouldn’t have Jungkook in it, and—

A kiss on your lips disturbs your thoughts, and Jungkook’s soft eyes look back at you when you look at him questioningly.

“Whatever it was you were thinking, just know I’m glad I’m with you the way I am right now,” he says.

He probably already sensed your mind going elsewhere as it always does and instead of asking you where it went, he chooses to assure you about what you mean to him. And it’s exactly what you need.

You hug him in response and ease your mind back into the present with pecks on his cheek. He’s who you should be focusing on right now, so you foolishly suggest a race between you two just for fun even if you know you’re no match for him. You secretly like it when he’s a bit cocky.

Jungkook laughs but agrees to your 20-second early start. He leans his back against the edge, endeared by your movements and the fact that you’re freestyling diagonally, before he starts swimming to eventually beat you.

You feel like you’ve been at it for so long and you pause, thinking that you’re only a few meters away from the end, only to learn that you’re just past halfway, and Jungkook is already on the other side, laughing at you.

But instead of teasing even more, he urges you to keep going, cheering you on as if you’re competing at a tournament. So you do.

You keep swimming that you don’t realize you’re at the end, and you hit your head on the wall because you arrogantly chose not to wear the goggles that Jungkook advised you to use.

“Oh babe,” he chuckles as he swims towards you, and it’s now you realize that you started swimming sideways somewhere along the way.

He cradles your head in his arms before turning you to face him.

“You’re always hitting your head when you’re around me.”

You know he’s alluding to that boat incident in Jeju, something that he occasionally teases you about, especially after you gave him a lowdown of the thoughts that plagued your mind during that afternoon.

You pout at him in response to his smug face, and he scrunches his nose in endearment. Then he pulls you in a hug and kisses the top of your head that you just hit. He thinks you could’ve gone another few hundred meters, and you’re really not as out of shape the way you say you are.

The fact that you’re able to swim the entire length of this massive pool already says a lot even if you’re a bit out of breath. He knows you’re neutral about swimming - it doesn’t excite you as much but you don’t mind it.

Waking up early to join him already makes him feel good, even if he knows you prefer just watching him do his thing, but even that makes him feel hot all over. He’s not sure when he’ll get used to your reactions to him and he’s noticed you try to temper it. He hopes you never do, though, and it’s not for his ego or anything; he just likes being the cause of your intense emotions and desire.

You and Jungkook spend the next 15 minutes leisurely swimming about before lounging on the chairs to dry up. But then he orders a burger then decides to go for one last lap, with you whining that he’s gonna drip all the way to your room and you don’t have time for him to dry up all over again.

He insists that it’ll be fine, and while he does leave some droplets in the elevators all the way to your bedroom, he manages to not make much of a mess.

Your friends are back, too, and they’re all taking turns in their shared bathroom to wash up before heading for the breakfast buffet. Jungkook hints at joining you in your shower, but you put up a strong front and say no.

“Kook, the last time we took a bath together, we took up an hour,” you remind him. “It’ll take us longer together than if we did it separately.”

“Well…” he smirks at you, clearly reminiscing about that time and the different ways he took you in the shower.

You were in Gangwon for a field visit one weekend and decided to spend the night, and after telling him, Jungkook took the train to meet you so he could spend it with you. The bathrooms in your apartments aren’t spacious enough for you two, but the one in the hotel you stayed at was. You ended up requesting a late checkout the next day because you took a bath longer than you should have, just like the night before.

Much as the thought excites you - somehow he looks even hotter when he’s wet from a shower - you’ll be pressed for time. You don’t want to end up stressing the rest of the day just because you were horny.

“Tonight,” you promise him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“And if you’re too tired and end up falling asleep again?” He cocks his eyebrow.

“I won’t!” You try to convince him. “I want to make the most out of our last night here because we are definitely not gonna be able to do as much once we’re at your parents’ house.”

“Well, we could always just book a room in a less fancy place for our last night,” he suggests.

“Kook, your parents invited us. They sounded really excited,” you remind him.

“They are,” he smiles now. “They asked me for your favorite food yesterday because they were in the market. I said you’re easily satisfied like me. They also cleaned my room and dusted all my awards because they wanted to brag about me to you.”

“Ugh, they’re so cute,” you groan, your cuteness aggression now extending to Jungkook’s parents because they truly are adorable.

He smiles and kisses your forehead. He knew that suggesting taking a bath together would push it but it was worth a try. He’s not upset one bit; just being with you in his hometown is enough to make him happy. And like you said, there’s always tonight. The last time you and your friends had a night out, you were unable to resist him and ended up confessing your feelings.

“Go take a shower,” he says now. “I’ll just mentally prepare myself to meet your family again.”

“It’s my nieces and nephews you have to be worried about,” you warn him. “Once they find out what you do for a living, they’re not gonna leave your side.”

Jungkook laughs and says he’ll prepare for that, too. Seokjin had mentioned that not long ago. The kids have grown up and are never out of energy. They recently got into sports, too, and are in that phase where they wanna try and learn everything. It’s good for their development for sure, but that just means constantly asking your family and extended family members to play tag or whatever else their creative minds could think of.

But he’s ready for that. He’s got your family to impress and an athletic image to uphold. He also just really wants to see you smile because that’s what you do when those kids are happy.

“I’ll make sure to stretch before meeting them, then.”

You giggle before entering the bathroom, knowing that Jungkook doing prep work before meeting your nieces and nephews might be a bit too much.

You savor your bath time and run today’s schedule in your head for the nth time. It’s all straightforward but you want to make sure you get to properly celebrate with your family and friends. You wipe yourself dry and call out to Jungkook to let him know that he can start in the shower while you do your skincare but you’re left with no response.

You wonder if he’d left the bedroom so you open the door, only to find him doing pushups next to your bed.

“Oh. You were serious…” you say, as your eyes take their time in watching your boyfriend push himself off the floor, with his taut arms and broad back hypnotizing you.

“It’s the last part of my workout,” he informs you, as he stands up and wiggles his eyebrows at your staring. “I do this all the time. But I did stretch earlier so I’m now physically ready.”

You burst into laughter. “Kook, they may have so much energy but they’re still just kids.”

“You forget that I work with kids. Half an hour with the year ones and I’m already spent,” he reminds you. “Plus, Seokjin told me about that one time he and Hayoung took them to a kid’s cafe and he gave up 15 minutes in. He said they kept going from one game to another and he got so tired that he fell asleep in the sandpit.”

“True. I mean, they’re gonna need a new victim since Seokjin will be busy tonight,” you hum. “You’re actually the one with the most patience.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then. Finish your stretching then take a shower.”

“Will do now,” he says.

He hums under the gush of water while you fix up at the nearby vanity. He walks over to you soaking wet, and you groan at him for drenching the floor again.

“Just wanted to remind you what you missed out on,” he smirks, as he wipes himself dry beside you.

“I pride myself in having self-control, excuse you,” you bite back.

“Alright. Let’s see about that later,” he laughs mockingly before walking out, clearly still teasing you as he doesn’t even wrap himself with the towel.

It’s just his toned ass and delicious thighs, slowly disappearing from view.

You pout at yourself in the mirror but then again, not like there’s anything to complain about.

He returns to your side in his boxers now and starts putting on moisturizer. Wanting to always hit him back, you remark that the bathrobe is too heavy so you remove it, leaving you the one completely naked this time.

Jungkook doesn’t react for the first five seconds. But once he finishes putting lotion on his arms, he immediately stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. It’s kisses on your back and torso before you know it, and you squeal in an attempt to reprimand him, but even he knows you’re enjoying it.

“What’s the point of not taking a shower together if you’re just gonna do this anyway?” You whine.

“The point is that we’re dry.”

“That does not make any sense,” you groan, as you watch him continue to kiss you while you remain unmoving.

You eventually concede though, because anytime Jungkook expresses his desire for you like this, you can’t help but feel warmth. Which is actually quite comforting.

“Okay now I’m starving. For actual food,” he says. “Let’s go!”

Both of you finally get dressed and walk with Jimin, Taehyung, and Mo-eum to the hotel restaurant. The rest of your friends have already taken their seats, so you join them and pick your spots.

Namjoon and Hoseok apparently worked out this morning, too, and when you ask Yoongi if he’d just gotten out of bed, he nonchalantly says that he and Gyu-rim went for a coffee run earlier. He blinks rapidly right after then quickly looks away before saying that he’ll just get more of the noodle soup at the buffet table. Gyu-rim excuses herself to go to the comfort room and heads the opposite direction.

You and your friends look at them then at each other, curious as to what might’ve happened.

“Okay, it’s either they confessed during their little coffee date or one of them almost did then chickened out so now it’s awkward,” Jimin suspects.

“It’s highly likely that’s Yoongi because he only ever gets cold feet when it comes to Gyu-rim,” Hoseok fondly says.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” You say. “It’s Gyu-rim, she–”

You pause, as nine pairs of eyes look at you questioningly. You’re unsure if Gyu-rim told anyone else about her feelings for Yoongi and you don’t want to do it for her.

“She’s so chill, you know?” You say instead. “Nothing really fazes her.”

“You can say the same for Yoongi but not when it comes to Gyu-rim,” Seokjin hums. “I mean, I’d know.”

Seokjin would, and that’s either because Yoongi’s his best friend, or he knows exactly what Yoongi’s feeling because it’s probably the same as what he felt. But you don’t push and instead let Namjoon remind everyone to not meddle. It’s always more exciting that way, he reminds you all, even if it could also get frustrating.

You continue with your two plates of food as Yoongi returns followed by Gyu-rim. It’s not long after when Seokjin and Hayoung excuse themselves to start getting ready. Your older friends and Taehyung follow soon after to help them, so you’re left with Jimin, Jungkook, and Mo-eum who continue talking about the other potential relationship in your group.

You watch in entertainment as Jimin and Mo-eum bounce off their observations, and you remark that this is what they were probably doing behind your and Jungkook’s backs.

“Oh, totally. We’d even do it while you’re in the bathroom or something and then change topics when you return,” Mo-eum hums as she chews on her rice cake. “Like, remember when you were whining the weekend after Jeju because Kook got tasked to chaperone for a school trip so he couldn’t go to your apartment?”

“Oh god,” you shake your head, and you all quickly get into narrating how your respective conversations went.

It’s funny in hindsight, knowing now that Jungkook was missing you the way you were missing him. You still felt upset that time, though, and you don’t want to feel that frustration ever again.

You finally finish your meal and head to the lobby to meet your family who just arrived from your town in Gwangju. They’ll be checking in early, and you wanted to make sure they were settled first before you started preparing yourself.

It’s warm greetings when you see your parents and they excitedly hug Jimin and Mo-eum. When it’s Jungkook’s turn, your mother beams even more, and she engulfs him in her arms and sighs, as if in relief.

“Oh, Jungkook. What a lucky woman our daughter is,” she smiles. “We won’t ever have to worry about her starving or not eating delicious food.”

“Ah, well, she’s not hard to please,” Jungkook chuckles, earning him a pout from you. “But I’m… I’m just glad I get to take care of her.”

“What a sweet man,” your mother gushes, and you nudge her and warn not to scare him away. “She needs that. She’s too busy saving the world and has to be reminded to look after herself, too.”

“She does,” Jungkook smiles. “But she’s been doing well in that regard. It helps when you’ve got good people around you.”

“Of course,” your father says now. “You’re all so lucky you have each other. And that both of you ended up together. Seriously, it’s such a relief. You’ll understand it if you become a father - you’re constantly praying that your children find good and responsible partners that they’ll spend their lives with and so there’s this nervousness every time they introduce someone. We’re lucky that her siblings found them and well, you’re the first one that ___ has properly introduced as her boyfriend and we’re just relieved that it’s someone like you. We adore your parents, too, so whew, no in-law drama and–”

“As you can tell, I got the rambling genes from him,” you interject, earning you laughter from your friends, especially Jungkook who scrunches his nose in entertainment.

“Not obvious at all,” Jungkook chuckles.

But your father’s smile softens and this means a lot to you, too. Your parents were never the type to pressure you into getting married right away, only because you established early on that your career is very, very important to you. Finding a partner is something that could be delayed, or even given up if it was your choice.

But it doesn’t mean that they don’t hope that you find someone who would accept you for all that you are, including your dreams for yourself, because they do. It’s something they tell your siblings, which they tell you, so you’re glad you can appease your parents this time.

Jungkook is the type you’d proudly introduce to your family. Even if he can get a bit shy sometimes, like now, as his hand searches yours once they ask him about work and other things. You adore your parents; they could just get a little overwhelming sometimes. You suppose it runs in the blood.

You thumb his hand in assurance, and he seems to calm down a bit once he talks about his students and what he teaches them based on the year level. He also talks about the extra-curricular activities he organizes for the school. It’s something he’s proud about but he doesn’t get to always talk about it this way, so you’re glad he’s able to share this with your parents. You suppose they have more reason to want to get to know him like this and you don’t mind, not when they seem really impressed, too.

Your chat is interrupted with the front desk staff saying that their rooms are ready and your nieces and nephews entering the lobby after playing in the playground right outside. Your brothers already look tired and it’s not even lunch time.

You say your goodbyes for now as they head to their rooms and you return to yours. You and Mo-eum hog your bathroom so you both could do your makeup while Jimin and Jungkook play video games outside, even with your constant reminder for them to get ready soon.

You get dressed with Mo-eum in your bedroom then let Jungkook in so he could dress up, too. His breath visibly hitches at the sight of you, and you shyly smile in response.

But there’s nothing to be nervous about, not when you look the way you do in your sweetheart gown. He’s seen you in formal looks many times before but not like this, and not since he started liking you, which he reminds himself was barely a year ago. There are still so many things that will feel new or different this time around despite having known each other for so long.

And that includes seeing you look so stunning that he can’t help but sigh in amazement.

“How do I look?” you ask, turning around to show him the entirety of the dress, which also happens to be low-back.

He doesn’t really have the right words for it, but he takes your hand and kisses it.

“You look really good,” he says under his breath.

You settle with a nod, unable to control your smile with how visibly affected he is, especially as he pulls you closer and softly kisses your bare shoulder. That itself leaves goosebumps on your skin; you can’t wait to know how it’ll feel later on.

You turn towards the closet to hand him his clothes this time. You help him when you can, and you learn that Jungkook, too, looks breathtaking in formal wear, especially with his thin necktie and the white dress shirt that beautifully hugs his toned upper body.

He heads to the bathroom to style his hair while you attempt to put on your heels, and not only are you unsuccessful, you’re also left speechless once Jungkook appears before you. It’s the slightly parted hair, you think. You decide that this slick, confident style is the mature look; you’d take this over his leather jacket any day.

“How do I look?” He dares ask, as if your ogling doesn’t say enough.

“Do you want the G-rated answer or the X-rated one?”

He laughs in response, truly never ready for what you have to say.

“Hmm, what about you tell me the G-rated version now,” he hums as he bends down to help you buckle your heels, “and then you can show me the X-rated answer tonight?”

“I can do that,” you smirk, slightly lifting your dress to show a bit of leg as he finishes with your shoes.

He helps you stand up and you fix his necktie before smiling at him.

“You look so handsome, Kook. Seriously. I might have to pull you away from the kids if they hog you later.”

“Hey, I’m gonna need to be in their good graces, too,” he chuckles. “But I’ll just be near you, okay?”

“I was just teasing. I think,” you say. “But hey, it’s Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding. We have to enjoy it. Don’t worry too much about my family because they already like you.”

“As if you’re not wanting to impress my parents, too,” he teases.

“Oh god yeah. Please make sure I don’t do anything stupid in front of them,” you start to panic. “I might ramble about your amazing genes and how they conceived you so perfectly.”

He laughs again.

“Well, they won’t be at the yacht party so you can let loose then. Just don’t… hit your head or anything again, yeah?”

You playfully roll your eyes before opening the door and he follows behind. You smile at Jimin in his adorable bowtie and Mo-eum in her classy strapless dress and ask for their help to make sure that you don’t embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook’s parents.

“Hmm, I don’t think they’d mind if you do,” Jimin hums as you all walk down the hallway. “I think it’ll assure them that you’re not presenting yourself to be someone perfect for their son, only to end up betraying him.”

You sigh at the thought.

“And hey. Kook really, really and I mean, really likes you. That’s the only thing that matters to them.”

The four of you separate once you arrive at the 15th floor. Jungkook and the guys head to Seokjin’s room while you and Mo-eum squeal once you enter Hayoung’s suite. She’s already made up and there are several more photos taken before she gets into her dress, which Gyu-rim and Suhyeon help her wear.

It’s not long before you go to another room on a different floor where Seokjin and Hayoung finally see each other. It’s also where their families will greet them before the ceremony starts.

There are lots of tears and so much squealing throughout the whole hour that it happens. Seokjin’s rich family members are mostly humble and have a good sense of humor whereas your entire clan is a little too energetic. It’s definitely not balanced out but you end up laughing for most of it because there’s always a joke or remark that makes it through the crowd.

But you see Seokjin always turns to Hayoung, his eyes softening as he watches his bride enjoy the moment just like he is, just like how he always tells her to. There’s so much trust and promise in the way he looks at her, and it’s the kind that’s built over time. It may seem a bit too early but you hope you and Jungkook get to that point one day.

“They’re so cute,” Jungkook whispers in your ear amidst all the chatter. “Who would have thought that the corniest guy in the world could have the softest smile?”

“Well, he’s looking at the love of his life,” you say. “That’s reserved for only her.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and looks at his friends. Behind all the jokes and the contagious laughter is a man who’s truly so in love, and Jungkook is happy he gets to witness it.

Your time eventually comes to an end and you’re all escorted to the large balcony where cocktails are being served while the bride and groom remain for more photos. You take one sip of champagne before handing it over to Mo-eum once you see Jungkook’s parents, who happen to be talking to your parents, too.

They greet you with the warmest hugs and gush at how you look. You’re left feeling a bit flustered at the compliments and respond with the G-rated version of what you think of their son’s outfit.

Both your parents have met each other many times and they talk just as any couple friends do. There’s a lot of praising each other’s kids and you thank the heavens that they get along early on. Jungkook’s parents even talk about your stay at their house tomorrow and your parents take this opportunity to invite the Jeons to your grandparents’ farm. You come up with possible dates and agree to firm up the plans in the coming weeks.

Not long after, all the guests are asked to head inside the hall for the mid-afternoon ceremony, and you separate from your parents to sit at the round table with your friends at the front.

As expected, the guests erupt in cheers and applause once the bride and groom are revealed behind the large doors. They look so perfect together, and you at least get to gush with your other cousins about how Hayoung copped herself a truly handsome guy when she proclaimed she was going to be a nun when she was a teenager.

The vows end in tears, as Seokjin surprisingly goes into serious mode and expresses his most sincere emotions that surprises even his best friends.

“This could've been left in a letter that I’d be reading to you tonight but I want everyone to know that I will love you in words, I will love you in action, and I will love you with every breath,” he says, as he wipes the corner of his eyes. “I’ll always be thankful to the chickens that chased you and had you yelling and laughing like crazy because that’s when I knew that I liked you. Your laughter changed my life, Hayoung. And I hope to never live a day without it.”

It’s a special moment you all share. It’s the first wedding in your friend group; they also happen to be the couple that you all look up to and seek comfort from. The emotions spill over to the speeches that Namjoon, Taehyung, Suhyeon, and Hayoung’s sister make.

Before you know it, the newlyweds are walking out the hall for a change and you’re all buzzing from what just happened. The reception commences soon after, and it’s delicious food after delicious food that’s served that gets you and Jungkook jumping in your seats and moaning to yourselves.

The socializing bit begins and you take the time to catch up with your other cousins. It’s midway through one conversation when you realize you haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. You look around the hall but eventually find him out the balcony, racing with your nieces and nephews. They squeal in disappointment when they lose and in excitement when they almost win, and while they take turns to go ahead, Jungkook’s the one who runs solo.

“Five-minute break,” he yells, as he heaves while walking towards you.

You hand him a glass of water and chuckle at how he obviously is quite tired but is still willing to go a few rounds with the kids.

“What have they asked you to do?”

“Well, other than running, we’ve raced by hopping and jumping on one leg,” Jungkook answers. “They wanted to crawl, too, but I used the adult card for that one and said no.”

“They spend a lot of time outdoors so they come up with a bunch of different things,�� you laugh, already used to them and their different games.

“As they should,” Jungkook hums. “Which is why I’m going along with it. I mean, they’re at a wedding. It’s an event for adults. What else are they supposed to do?”

“Hmm, that’s true. But thanks for keeping them company,” you smile. “You deal with kids enough at work and now you’re doing that here, too.”

“Because it’s fun!” He beams. “Plus, So-you asked me if I’m your boyfriend because I keep kissing your cheek and she’s never seen anyone do that with you so she’s a little protective. I need her on my side.”

“She’s a little too smart for her own good. I told her once that I don’t really wanna have a boyfriend so she’s quite sus with me,” you laugh. “But she’ll come around. She loves the water so if you teach her how to swim, she’ll be impressed.”

“That’s already on tomorrow’s agenda,” Jungkook says. “One of your uncles told them I’m a swimmer and they got excited. They already told me to meet them at 9 sharp and that they’ll tell your parents if I don’t show up.”

“Bunch of brats. I love them so much,” you chuckle. “Well, there goes our Sunday morning.”

“At least it’s not too early. We can stay up tonight,” he smirks.

“Well, we won’t if you’re the one who uses all his energy and falls asleep right away,” you point out.

“Oh, you know better than challenging me like that.”

You actually do, which is why you did. He’s gonna want to prove a point and he’s sexy when he does. You’re unsure if he’s caught on that you like challenging him so he’d do what you actually want him to, but he does it anyway.

Before you could answer, Haneul is yelling that five minutes is up and that the jumping jacks race is about to start. Jungkook, truly wanting to prove himself to them, removes his suit and hands it over to you.

You watch in amusement as he makes his way across the covered path, jumping up and down with his arms swinging over his head. The kids are shrieking while he heaves, but they cheer him on. At this point, some of them, tired from all the running and screaming, are already seated on the bench next to you, giggling.

“I don’t even know why Jungkook is doing this,” you chuckle as you watch him win the race.

He’s not even letting them win as a courtesy.

“He’s in a competition with So-you,” Ha-yul says of her cousin.

“What competition?” You ask.

Your 8-year old niece merely shrugs and wraps her arms around your waist and continues to watch on. Knowing her, she probably knows what they’re competing for but you don’t prod. Jungkook will probably tell you later.

You instead ask her about her family’s recent trip to Jeju and she beams with joy once she talks about the dolphins she saw swimming in the ocean.

“They look so magical, auntie. Even from afar,” she smiles. “Did you see them when you were there?”

The question sparks a memory. A very special one.

“Yes, I did,” you gush, recalling how you wanted to hold Jungkook’s hand then because of the overwhelming beauty of nature and the exhilaration of accepting your feelings for him. “It was so pretty.”

“Did you see them with anyone?” She asks, looking up at you now.

“Yeah. I was with him,” you reply, gesturing towards the man who’s somehow ended up teaching the kids how to do a high kick.

“Are you sure you were even looking at the dolphins?”

You turn to Ha-yul with her doubtful eyes and crossed arms.

“Yes, I was, you smarty-pants,” you chuckle, pinching her adorable cheeks. “Jungkook was the one who told me about them so we went to this spot to watch the sunrise and then the dolphins showed up right after.”

“Hmm. That’s very sweet,” she replies, slowly smiling. “I like him for you, auntie. He makes you smile a lot.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” You giggle, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the thought that even your niece can see it. “I like him for me, too.”

You eventually go back inside after feeling a bit hungry despite all the food you ate earlier. You yell for Jungkook to follow you, knowing he’d want to munch on something after the series of physical activities he just did. Your nieces and nephews fortunately drain their energy and run towards the hall, too, and you overhear them tell their parents that “uncle Jungkook is so cool!”

You gush at him, knowing that he achieved his goal of impressing them, though you don’t think it would’ve been difficult. He’s natural with kids and you got to see that today. It’s even more special to you because they’re your family - people you love and adore, and it means so much that they accept him.

Even your cousins seem to like him, too. One of them talks to Jungkook about teaching, another about swimming, and another about taekwondo. The conversations move to sports in general, and then video games, and then music and their favorite beer and whiskey brands. You leave them alone, not wanting to cling to Jungkook’s side the entire time.

So you hang out with your siblings while your other friends stay nearby. By this time, the number of guests has started to dwindle. The ceremony and reception are long over but there’s still lots of food and drinks being served. The sunset yacht party for close friends and family will start soon, and you’re all just waiting for the go-signal to start heading to the port.

You walk towards the bar for a glass of soda when you stop in your tracks at a sight that you didn’t think you’d see. There by the counter is Gyu-rim, giggling shyly and Yoongi, chuckling, too, while he pulls her close to him and whispers something in her ear. She laughs once more then their hands slowly move down, their fingers grazing before he places her hand firmly in his.

Your jaw drops and you blink multiple times to make sure it’s real.

It is. And you seriously want to scream in excitement.

But you scurry back to your friends instead.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my,” you catch your breath. “It’s happening!”

“What’s happening!” Mo-eum rushes to you with a slice of cake in her hand.

The rest of your friends slowly gather around you and you direct their sights to the bar where Yoongi and Gyu-rim are still definitely being all shy and affectionate.

“Who is it?” Jimin asks, squinting his eyes to try to see what has all of you gasping and freaking out.

“Gyu and Uncle!” You squeal at him.

“What! Wait, I’m blind!” He groans.

And just as you’re about to tell your best friend to be subtle, he’s already off near the bar to get a closer look, and his own gasps alert the pair that you’re all onto them.

But Yoongi just turns to your table and raises his glass in both confirmation and celebration.

And Gyu-rim just smiles. She’s no longer just doing it internally, that’s for sure.

They eventually walk towards your table and you can sense the restraint your friends have in bombarding them with questions. Except for Jimin.

“How! When!” He goes on. “I manifested this. I envisioned this. I prayed for this! When did you–”

“Coffee. This morning,” Yoongi answers.

“So did you two just look at each other and then have a silent understanding of your feelings?” Taehyung wonders.

“Sorta,” Gyu-rim hums. “The distance between us just kept getting shorter and then he… uh, he just held my hand and I held it tighter and then we just… I guess, kinda knew.”

“How on brand,” you remark.

“Yeah, just like your confession,” Jungkook, who suddenly appears next to you, whispers in your ear.

“At least I confessed first,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Then why were you awkward during breakfast?” Mo-eum asks the pair.

“It was fresh,” Yoongi shrugs. “And we weren’t sure how to act without you guys freaking out.”

“We were still talking about you though,” Jimin informs him.

“I’m sure you started it,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Of course I did,” Jimin winks.

“So why now?” Taehyung asks. “What pushed you to finally confess?”

“I didn’t wanna waste any more time,” Yoongi sighs.

“And I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Gyu-rim pipes in.

“And well, I was thinking about those two,” Yoongi adds, his gaze turning to you and Jungkook now. “There are lots of things going on in our lives. I could be one serendipitous encounter away from letting her get away. I don’t really think I could live with that.”

“Gosh, our impact,” you whisper to Jungkook after softly smiling at the new couple.

He just wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He’ll always be glad that things happened the way they did with both of you, and he’d go through a decade of friendship and periods of distance and confusion if it means having you like this.

You all continue to gush and talk about all that happened today until you’re told that you can now head to the port. You’re transported in coaches then you make your way to the large yacht where there’s more food and drinks, hanging lights, and a saxophonist serenading the minimal guests.

There’s less squealing this time with the kids left behind in the hotel. It’s more relaxed now, as the many lounges offer so much space to enjoy the scenery, the almost cool air, and each other’s company.

You and Jungkook constantly get separated, with your relatives pulling you over to them every five minutes. You can’t complain though, as you really don’t see them as much, but you also wish you could have more time to be with your boyfriend, perhaps hold his hand as you socialize, or gush at how he looks because he truly is so beautiful tonight.

But somehow, you find your way to each other once the sun starts to set. Between the purple and orange sky, the calm waves, and the jazz music, it’s a moment that you’ll truly treasure, especially with Jungkook’s arms around you, his chin tucked in that space by your shoulder, humming in amazement.

You don’t really need words for this moment. You just pull him closer to you and kiss the side of his face when you can, an act of extreme fondness and desire that you could offer him right now.

The dancefloor opens up and Seokjin and Hayoung are the first to slow dance. People soon follow, including you and Jungkook, whose hands just don’t want to separate from you. You feel quite overwhelmed and opt to gently lay your head on his chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat and the full warmth of his arms around you. You know it’s where you’ll always want to be.

His soft kisses on your head give you a kind of assurance that’s quite emotional. It’s as if he knows how much you feel and how deep you’re thinking and he’s there, not quieting your mind but encouraging it. It’s acceptance and respect that you don’t think you’ve ever felt with anyone before.

The music turns lively not long after. The drinking continues, too, leaving some guests in a rather unfiltered and perhaps wild state, including your friends.

There’s Jimin, Mo-eum, and Taehyung dancing around like always. There’s Hoseok with his now half unbuttoned dress shirt, not too subtly grinding with his girlfriend in the corner.

Then there’s Namjoon, yelling “fuck the government” towards the ocean, and Yoongi has to remind him to tone it down because he’s part of the government, and well, he’s a future public figure so this behavior might not be a good look.

“I’m thinking of quitting my job, actually,” Namjoon admits. “I’ll just have my own podcast and name it ‘the professional yapper’ and talk about all the things that fuck us over. And crabs. I’d like to talk about crabs.”

“Who hurt you?” Gyu-rim asks.

“I… I’m drunk,” Namjoon heaves.

“We know,” several of you say in unison.

But this is when his body starts to shut down. After releasing all his pent up anger, his energy drains and he gets sleepy. He doesn’t want to sit down, knowing he’d fall asleep and it’ll be difficult for anyone to carry him off the boat, so Jungkook stays by Namjoon’s side to make sure he doesn’t fall on the floor or into the water.

It keeps your boyfriend away from you again though, as he follows the older man everywhere, even outside the bathroom. But you don’t mind. Jungkook’s taken care of your friends during times like this and you know he won’t stop just because of you.

It’s already dark once the yacht returns to the port. It’s barely 10 PM but you’re full and exhausted. You’ve had a long day and you just want to have a nice bath like you promised Jungkook and well, do a lot more.

Jimin, Mo-eum, and Taehyung don’t want their night to be over yet so they head to the hotel bar to eat and drink some more. They don’t miss the chance to tease you and Jungkook about having the suite all to yourselves though but you run with it. It’s not like your desire for each other is a secret or something you suppress when you’re with your friends.

So you and Jungkook head back to your floor and once he enters your bedroom, he immediately climbs on the foot of the bed and lies down. With his loosened tie, he undoes another button of his dress shirt and releases a deep exhale.

Even you feel his tiredness from that one breath.

You stand by the window and just watch him, his arms and legs straightened out and his eyes closed. You take the time to admire him like this. His body’s breathtaking even with clothes on, and you let the X-rated thoughts fill your mind.

He mistakes your hardened gaze for annoyance, as he apologizes for lying on the bed with his day clothes. It’s one of your biggest pet peeves, and you once had an argument because he was tired from work and wanted to cuddle but you wouldn’t let him stay next to you on your bed until he showered. It was more of a banter, really, but you did sense his frustration when he dragged himself to your bathroom then slept right after lying on your side.

He sits up now and scoots to the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay, Kook. Rest there if you want to,” you assure him. “I don’t blame you, considering you were the cool uncle and the great friend tonight.”

“Those kids are relentless,” he chuckles. “And Joon is so heavy; it was a struggle getting him off the boat.”

“Well, he has a lot of angst to release but I’m sure he’s glad you helped him.”

“Yeah, but that meant I didn’t get to be with you much today,” he pouts now.

You smile at his sullen expression, as the realization that you spent much of the wedding being with other people hits him. Sure, you had dinner and the sunset viewing and that slow dance but with everything that happened today, it still doesn’t seem enough.

So you walk towards him and slightly lift your dress so you could sit on his lap. He shifts you around so you’re snug against him and he smirks.

“So you’re not mad that I lied on the bed in day clothes?”

“You were at the foot of it so it’s fine,” you wave him off. “That could be our compromise.”

“Okay then. So… will you show me the X-rated version of your thoughts now?”

You gaze at him - at his sparkling eyes and soft lips and chiseled jaw and think this view of him will always leave you breathless. The fact that you have this beautiful man wanting your attention blows your mind and you truly wish he’ll never get sick of you.

You bite your lip and nod before kissing him deeply, not holding yourself back now since you’ve been wanting to do this all afternoon. He returns your eagerness and moans against your mouth. He grips your waist and pulls you closer to him in an effort to eliminate whatever distance is left, which is none. You’re chest to chest now but that still doesn’t feel close enough.

Soft moans fill the room and your pleasure continues to build, especially with Jungkook grazing his fingers down your semi-bare back before slowly pulling off the straps of your dress. It triggers something inside you, as you now fiddle with his necktie, desperate to get it off.

You manage to untangle it and quickly undo the buttons of his shirt. He lets you do it on your own while his hands travel to the edge of the bed, and you feel him smile in the kiss that hasn’t stopped.

You finally remove his top then move to unbuckle his belt. Briefly pulling yourself from him, you eagerly undo his trousers and start pulling it off. He watches you from his seat on the bed while you bend down, and you cock your brow at his smug face. He looks like he’s really enjoying this.

“You letting me do all the work?” You tease.

“For now.”

You know what that means. And that just gets you more worked up. So you immediately undress and watch him watch your every move until you’re back on his lap, both of you now completely naked.

Your kisses turn even more heated. His grip on your waist tightens, and your nails on his shoulders dig a little deeper. You catch your breath and let him kiss down your neck, his teeth merely grazing your flesh, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

Your hand travels south, too, until they reach his hardened dick and you’re overwhelmed with an even more intense desire for him and everything he is.

You want him so bad, you think you’ll explode.

Jungkook feels you grip his length and grunt as your tongue flicks his lips. This is usually your tell.

“Let me just get the co—”

“No,” you interject, pulling away as you look at him with now wondering eyes.

“I… uh—”

“Well, do you want it inside you, at least?” He asks, gesturing towards his member that you haven’t let go of.

“Yes, I just… I just want it naked. Is that okay?”

It takes a few seconds for it to fully register to him what exactly you mean.

“You’re asking me if I want to be inside you without a condom?” He asks incredulously.

“Well, yeah. You said you’ve always used one,” you say.

“It was a precaution for a bunch of things,” he reasons. “And well, given what happened with the last girl I dated, I’m glad I did. But you said you’ve always used one, too.”

“Same reason,” you shrug. “But I really, really like you, Kook. And you’re so hot. And I hate the taste of latex when I suck you after.”

“Those seem like valid reasons,” he chuckles. “You feel really good even when I wear one so it doesn’t matter as much.”

“Yeah but, I don’t wanna do this with doubts or hesitation,” you sigh. “And I don’t wanna gatekeep.”

“You don’t wanna gatekeep… your vagina?”

“Yes. You say it’s really good down there. You can have all of it.”

Jungkook laughs out of amusement. You truly are unfiltered and bizarre sometimes but still very endearing.

“That’s your vagina though,” he reminds you. “I’m just a visitor.”

“And you can visit my coochie without clothes on! Like you’re free. Plus, you’re the only one who’s going in there so why not?”

He laughs again at your allusions and pulls you in for a hug.

“You drive me crazy, you know? And in the best way,” he says softly.

“Thank you for that clarification,” you pull away and giggle.

“So uh, shall I visit now?”

“Gotta prep you again first,” you gesture towards his flaccid dick.

“Oh. That won’t be hard,” he smirks.

You both burst into laughter but he does clarify that he’ll indeed get hard again; he just couldn’t pass up on the pun.

Jungkook softens at the look you give him. There’s this gentleness in it like always but it’s a little different this time. It's filled with even more trust. Perhaps appreciation and gratefulness, too? You often thank him for listening to all your thoughts and he gladly would. Everyday.

He loves that this is something both of you can easily talk about, which isn’t even the first time. And that just like him, you don’t want any reservations or doubts in your relationship. There’s so much clarity that he feels for you in such a short amount of time that he’s been with you and he doesn’t even question it.

Just this intimacy with you is everything he wants - there’s pleasure and intense desire but there’s playfulness, too. There’s warmth and comfort and that’s what being with you is like.

You gaze at each other with such yearning that it immediately turns into a heated kiss. You catch your breath and his mouth travels to your nipples, expertly lapping them up, causing you to tilt your head and moan. He takes the chance to kiss down your torso, leaving you panting once he makes it to the side of your waist, an erogenous part he recently discovered that he takes advantage of.

You return to kisses and your hands explore his chest before they grip his now hardened length. You moan at the feel of it, then thumb his tip before you lift yourself up and slowly slide down.

The sensation is different and you know he feels it, too. He hums and curses under his breath, pulling you close to nibble your neck while you grind against each other.

It really does feel liberating in an odd way, Jungkook thinks, just because he feels everything. You clench around him and it has him moaning.

This is the time when he does all the work, as he shifts you around to lie on the bed and you know it, too, biting your lip in anticipation for how hard he’s gonna go.

But he wants to focus on your pleasure first, so he dives down your cunt and kisses you in all the places he knows you like. He meets your eyes and hums to himself in satisfaction, knowing how much you’re enjoying this.

Once he feels your slick on his mouth, he gets on his knees and aligns himself with you, spreading your legs so he can get a good look of that naked entrance you were talking about.

You both moan once more, and Jungkook pushes in and out, familiarizing himself with the feeling that he knows he’ll keep having. You feel even more amazing like this; he just hopes he can keep it together and make this last longer.

“You okay, babe?” He pants.

“Yeah. It’s just like Pilates.”

He laughs again, having accepted that you’ll always have something fascinating to say even when he’s balls deep inside of you.

But he quickly gets back to that hypnotic feel, especially once he flushes your legs against your chest, allowing him to thrust into you intensely at a different angle.

You’re definitely not yet flexible enough so you’re a bit overwhelmed, but you let him chase his high just as he let you do so earlier with his skillful mouth and focus on the way he feels bare inside you. He knows how to use his beautiful dick and not to be cheesy, but it feels pretty special that no one else has ever felt him like this.

His thrusts start to get erratic and you know he’s close. He pulls away, pulls out, then pumps himself repeatedly until he’s spilling his seed on your torso. The pure look of pleasure and exhaustion on his face is so sexy, you feel like coming again.

He finishes and hovers over you, supported by his propped up arms with his damp hair and sweat dangling from his forehead. He’s panting and cursing under his breath as he pecks your lips, and you just watch him, enthralled by these little actions, knowing that your body made him feel that way.

“Let me just—”

He cuts himself off and walks to the bathroom then returns with a pile of tissues that he wipes you with. He apologizes as he does and you look at him softly, appreciating the gentleness and warmth on his face. He discards the soaked tissues and plops down next to you.

For a brief moment, you just look at each other, as if words aren’t enough to express what you want to say. It’s not just about the sex or the pleasure you both get from it. It’s not just the lust that courses through your veins and the desire for more.

It’s that feeling of security, you think to yourself. It’s falling quickly from cloud 9 but knowing you’re not gonna crash because not only is he there next to you, holding your hand while you fall, he’s assuring you that it’s not gonna hurt. The fall isn’t the kind where that happens.

Not like it’s some fairytale you’re in - although it might very well be - but there’s this trust that you both know what you’re getting into, that you know what you’re doing, that you just want to do what makes the other person happy.

Because that’s what you want. With Jungkook, you’re not chasing the high or some elusive happiness because you’re living it already. It’s in your grasp and you’re filled with it.

He smiles and you smile back. You snuggle close to him and softly kiss his lips. You want to repeat over and over again how much you like and adore and want him but it doesn’t feel enough so you settle for a hug and a bite of his cheek just because.

Jungkook chuckles and settles in this position next to you with caresses on your bare shoulder. He’s thinking of all that he feels for you until he hears your soft snores and he laughs again.

You catch yourself and ask him if you fell asleep.

“Wow, you’re tired?” He teases.

“Shut up. Pilates makes me tired. What more this?”

“Fair enough,” he hums. “Let’s have a bath then. It could help you relax.”

You immediately agree and get off the bed. You clean your face then prepare the tub, splashing in some bath salts and lavender oil. He stands next to you naked, looking every bit handsome that you can’t help but kiss him again.

He still shivers at your touch and that urges you, as your hand once more wraps around his length and desire overtakes you once more. You start bending down and Jungkook knows what you want. He stops you for a bit and grabs one of the small towels from the sink and places it on the floor, right where your knees are supposed to be.

You get back to it immediately and the absence of the taste and smell of latex is so satisfying. It urges you to do more. It’s perhaps the best suck you’ve given him and the sounds he makes spurs you on. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good for you.

You let him come in your mouth this time and the long exhale he makes lets you know that you did well. It’s the same time when the tub gets filled, and you both go inside, moaning at the feel of the warm water all over your tired bodies.

It’s quiet for a while. You suppose you’re both just soaking in everything, familiarizing yourselves with the silence and the fact that you get to enjoy this fancy bathroom where you can do whatever you want.

But Jungkook is the one who cuts through the sound of the bubbling water.

“You were so pretty tonight,” he says with his deep voice.

You scrunch your nose and smile, giddy at his compliment and the sincerity in which he gives it. Even after all you’ve done in just the past hour, this is what gets you all shy and giggly.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You, well… I’ve told you both versions. But it was nice to see you being with my family, Kook. I know you’re usually shy around new people but you looked so natural with them. I really appreciate you trying.”

“I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous,” he chuckles. “You talk about your family a lot and you’re their baby. I wanted them to see that I’m good for you, you know? That I can take care of you because I’m sure that’s what they want for you.”

“That’s actually what one of my cousins said as they were leaving,” you smile. “And that my grandparents would’ve loved you.”

“Yeah?”

“She said you would’ve been a big help at the farm,” you chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jungkook smiles. “I know that they put Seokjin to work that one time. He said he’s glad he was prepared because his uncle has a farm, too, but that was tough work. And it was worth it. They were charmed by him at the end.”

“It would’ve been the same with you,” you say, reminiscing about that trip from long ago.

Seokjin and Hayoung were dating for just three months when they visited your grandparents. He’s lucky he got their approval then. Two years later, your grandfather passed; your grandmother followed a year later.

But Jungkook got to meet them years before that as your friend and that still means something. Regardless, you think they’d adore him, too, if they were still around.

He smiles and kisses you. It's an affirmation he welcomes, and it’s one he got today from your entire family, especially from his biggest critics - your nieces and nephews.

You return Jungkook’s kiss and moan once his one hand travels to your clit and the other fondles your breast. It’s the perfect place for this, and you sigh in his hold with your back flushed against his chest as you anticipate reaching your peak.

And you do, with his expert fingers fiddling away while his tongue swirls in your mouth with such intensity. You crash from your high engulfed in his arms, and you really can’t ask for anything more.

You stay like that for a while longer before heading to the shower. You fool around again that by the time you finish, you’re worn out and eager to sleep.

“You’re waking up to go swimming with me and your family, right?” Jungkook asks you after you’ve turned the lamp off.

“Uh-huh,” you yawn, turning to hug him now.

His chest is taut and smooth and he smells like baby powder that you push your face against it out of sexiness aggression.

He laughs at you and accepts the new quirks you develop when it comes to him.

“Good. Let’s slee—”

You’re snoring before he could finish his sentence as he expected.

The perfect weekend may be halfway over but he’s loved every single moment with you. Including all the times you’d fallen asleep before he could even properly wish you goodnight.

You ask for a five-minute extension when your alarm rings the next morning but Jungkook isn’t having it.

“I might lose points from your nieces and nephews if I’m not down at the pool by 9,” he groans. “They made me promise. You can’t sabotage me like this.”

He pulls the cover off of you and you groan in response. You slightly open your eyes and find him standing beside your bed already in his swim shorts, arms crossed and looking impatient.

“They won’t do anything. You’re being dramatic,” you say.

“I’m being cautious,” he argues. “Come on, babe.”

“Fine,” you frown, getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom.

He follows you there and kisses your neck to get in your good graces and it works. You’re that weak for him and he knows this so he takes advantage. Sometimes you pretend to be angry or uncaring just so he’d butter up to you but his eye rolling and smirk tell you he knows exactly what you’re doing.

You finally get in your bathing suit and head to the indoor pool where the kids cheer when they see you and Jungkook. You think they’re excited because he promised to teach them how to swim this morning.

“You weren’t that excited when I taught you,” your cousin, Hae-dal, whines.

She was a competitive swimmer once upon a time, too.

“But you’re not a teacher, Ma,” Ha-yul says. “I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”

“She’s got a point,” you tell your cousin.

Once Jungkook starts teaching them how to do the basics and guiding them with their strokes, she concedes.

You didn’t really plan on swimming today but the kids dragged Jungkook and he couldn’t bail on them. He still would’ve come though; he really wanted to try the hotel’s indoor pool and you don’t blame him. It’s huge and fancy-looking. There’s an area for kids, too, so teaching them is easy. You watch him manage six excited children who all want his attention and like you expected, he’s able to give it to each one.

“He’s such a natural,” Hoseok’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

You turn and see that your friends and their partners are here, too, and are heading to the adult pool. You wave your greetings and signal that you’ll go to them later.

“He is,” you respond to your friend. “I never noticed it before.”

“Would you have liked him then if you did?”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” you hum. “I wasn’t in a good headspace for years and I probably would’ve screwed us up.”

“And he probably would’ve fought to keep you.”

“You think so?” You wonder. “If I hurt him, then I don’t deserve him.”

“Only if you intended to, but we all know you wouldn’t. Not to him. And that’s because you’re a good person, ___. I hope you’ll never forget that.”

You look at Hoseok, a man you’ve known for years and someone you’d seek advice from every once in a while when things are tough because of how wise he is, so he knows your fears and your worries well.

He knows you’re afraid to disappoint people, that you don’t want to hurt the people you care about. And even as you’d told Jungkook last night that you want to continue with your relationship without doubts and fears, somehow this affirmation from Hoseok is something you also needed. And you wonder if it stems from a conversation he might’ve had.

He reads your mind, as he says that he, Jungkook, and Yoongi were chatting last night while making sure Namjoon didn’t fall over the yacht’s railing.

“Kook was just talking about not wanting to fail you. As a partner and as a friend.”

“Did you assure him that he wouldn’t?” You ask.

“I did. And I reminded him that he’s a good person, too, and hurting you isn’t something he’d just do.”

“Seems easy to say, huh?” You laugh dryly.

“People can fight and have misunderstandings and not hurt each other. That’s… kind of what a mature relationship is,” Hoseok advises. “I know you’re on the cusp of something really great - if you’re not there yet - and I thought that reminding you that you’re capable of having genuine, long-lasting and gentle and intense feelings for someone would help. Because you are, okay? Kook’s really happy that he gets to be with you.”

You smile and think that it’s indeed a good reminder. You and Jungkook have been on this honeymoon ride of laughter and playful bickering the past two months and this weekend has turned out to be a beautiful dream, too.

You feel so much for him and you don’t want to one day be overwhelmed by it that you start to doubt if you’re built for something enduring, like you want your feelings for him to be.

You told him months ago that you’re both good people who’ll find other good people meant for you and that you deserve. And both of you have. It’s quite serendipitous - all the times you comforted yourself at the thought that the person meant for you is just somewhere around, he’d been next to you all along.

“Thanks, Hoseok,” you turn to the man next to you. “I’m not surprised if Yoongi and Gyu-rim turn to you, too.”

“Oh, they already have. And it’s barely been a day,” he laughs. “And I say the same thing - they’re good people who deserve good things, too. And they’ve experienced so much that they know enough not to let go of the amazing things that come their way. But you and Kook - you’re like my babies. It makes me happy seeing both of you happy.”

“Well, I am. Very much.”

“And he is, too. But know that I’m just here, okay? We all are.”

You nod and hug him, assured even more that when things get tough, it’s your friends who'll help you and Jungkook find the way.

You finally head to the adult pool and greet your friends. By that time, Jungkook’s swimming lessons have ended, and he’s left the kids on their own to play around.

You dip in the water and stay close to Taehyung and Mo-eum while Jungkook does his laps. It turns out to be a spectacle, as your friends and family stop to watch him. He’s surprised when everyone erupts in cheers and he just laughs it off, content that he still has the skills to entertain, even if he’s certain that he’ll continue doing this for fun.

Swim time ends and you head to your rooms to wash up and prepare for an early lunch before you checkout. Your friends and family occupy several tables of the hotel restaurant and manage to not be too disruptive with how large your group is.

You fix your things and head to the reception then say goodbye to your relatives as they go back home. Your parents remind you and Jungkook about scheduling your visit to Gwangju and you promise that you will. Your nieces and nephews all take their time to hug your friends goodbye, especially Jungkook who they now say is their favorite uncle, a badge he says he’ll proudly wear.

It’s a short drive to Jimin’s father’s cafe where you and your friends go to for dessert, and he welcomes you all with your favorite cakes and pastries that have you jumping in your seat.

That’s where you separate. Seokjin and Hayoung go back to the hotel for another night before they fly to their honeymoon, Taehyung heads for the airport to return to New York, you and Jungkook drive to his parents’ house, and the rest of your friends journey back to Seoul. It’s goodbyes for now but the next lunch gathering is scheduled for when the newlyweds return and you can’t wait for that day to come.

“So, are you excited to go to my childhood home?” Jungkook asks as he turns the corner to his street.

“I’ve been to your house a few times before, Kook,” you remind him. “It’s nothing new.”

“Well, you’re going as my girlfriend this time. That’s a new experience.”

“What new experiences am I gonna have, huh?” You teasingly ask.

“Hand-holding under the table, hugs on my couch… make out session on my childhood bed,” he shrugs.

“Very tempting,” you say.

“And very doable. My parents might even gush and tell us that it’s okay to be affectionate because, uh, they’re not really used to that.”

“Hmm. Sounds good then,” you smile. “Can’t wait.”

The new experience turns out to include Jungkook’s parents telling their neighbors that their son has a girlfriend and that she’s very smart and beautiful.

Jungkook shakes his head in embarrassment, as the elderly couple were merely passing on their street and greeting them but his parents went ahead and bragged about you, which you actually think is quite cute. And a relief, because you were worried about what they thought of you. They’ve always been nice, but you want them to truly like you, and with the way they’re welcoming you into their home, you think they already do.

The new experience also includes being shown old home videos of Jungkook growing up, like his taekwondo competitions and trips to the beach. You’d seen some of his baby photo albums the few times you all went here as friends but there’s more this time, and you’re reminded of baby Jungkook’s chunky cheeks and perfectly round doe eyes.

There are photos of him being cradled by his mom and riding his dad’s shoulders and wearing costumes with his older brother. There are those from family trips and his kindergarten days. There are more of the embarrassingly adorable bowl cut hairstyle from middle school and the side bangs from high school.

That’s how you spend the afternoon - his parents and brother telling you all these stories, Jungkook covering his eyes in embarrassment and defending himself, and you, heaving from laughter.

They don’t even mind when you snort or say unfiltered things and that’s a comforting feeling. They look at you endearingly when you tell stories of Jungkook over the years and even recently, and you don’t miss the way his mom would sometimes touch your hand out of reflex and let it stay there.

She’s such a warm individual, and you feel that aura of comfort she exudes that Jungkook definitely took from her. She’s so bright and positive and you understand why she’s beloved by her students.

His father is very laid-back and slightly cheeky. He likes reminding you that it was Jungkook’s mom who confessed her feelings first because she found him very handsome, just like you did, and you see how Jungkook takes from his old man in that regard, too.

His older brother is quite introverted but has a good sense of humor, and you see why they get along so well, even if they insist it wasn’t always like that. But he seems very caring and attentive, and you’re reminded that Jungkook was raised by such good people.

You’re lucky you get to be part of this family, as what they say you are, with his mom insisting that you always were because of your decade-long friendship with her son but now, you hold a special place in it.

You continue talking with Mrs. Jeon and let her show you Jungkook’s awards cabinet while the men start preparing dinner, as it is in this household. Jungkook did tell you that this mom’s cooking isn’t the best so it was something they always did.

She asks you more about your work and takes interest in the research projects you did for child development. She asks about your college days, too, and how you and Jungkook were like back then.

You enjoy sharing about your life and your friendship with her son. You don’t know how much she knows but you talk about the past year and the trips you took and all the moments you had with him that turned out to be the serendipitous moments that brought you here.

“He really likes you, ___. Like, really, really likes you. I don’t know how else to put it,” she takes your hand and smiles. “He’s a lot more open about himself and he talks to us with this joy and calmness and we’re really happy about that. So thank you. If he does anything silly, let me know, okay?”

“I doubt he will but yes, Auntie,” you smile back. “I think this is the kind of thing that my parents will tell him, too.”

“Probably,” she chuckles. “But we’re parents, ___. At the end of the day, we just want our children to love and be loved. We want them to be happy. And that’s what he is when he’s with you.”

You bow in gratitude, as her words assure you. But love? It’s an exciting thought. You don’t know if it’s all too soon but you know where this whole thing with Jungkook is going, and it’s definitely heading there.

And just as your mind’s about to go elsewhere again, Mr. Jeon calls out that dinner is ready.

You excitedly walk to the dinner table and gasp at all they prepared. From the beef soup to the pajeon to the cold noodles and raw fish, your tummy rumbles in anticipation. And as you expected, everything is delicious.

You and Jungkook take turns in moaning and making these weird sounds you make when the food is good, and your shyness in front of his family slowly melts away. You talk more over dinner and even while you wash the dishes with his mom and then right after.

But you don’t stay up late, as you still have a long drive back to Seoul tomorrow afternoon. So you bid his parents and brother good night and take turns with Jungkook in washing up.

You’re exhausted by the time you’re in bed, your leg over his and your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re softly kissing his face as you both take in the silence and he asks you if you want to ride his bike with him and go to this famous spot to watch the sunrise.

“To relive that time,” he tells you. “I… I always find myself going back to that morning in Jeju.”

“Why?”

“It was so thrilling - riding with you for the first time, feeling what I was feeling but nervous to let you know… But it was also so grounding, I guess,” he explains. “I mean, sunrise, dolphins, scenery of a seaside town… It’s like all these pretty things, including you.”

You remember the feeling clearly. It’s not hard to forget since it felt the same to you. Perhaps that’s when you thought that you could really have the good things you dreamed for in the palm of your hands, and now you do. Seeing the sunrise again with Jungkook this time would definitely make that past sunrise and all the sunrises after that even more special.

“Okay,” you smile. “But you’re waking me up. Drag me out of bed if you need to.”

“I’ll carry you bridal style out this door if it comes to it.”

You giggle at his words but promise that you’ll wake up. You don’t want to miss it either.

“Today was nice, Kook,” you say after a beat of silence. “I think your mom finds me funny.”

“She finds you endearing,” he corrects. “She likes you. She likes you for me. And she thinks you really like me, too.”

“Hmm. I wonder how she figured that out. Is it because of the hundred times I called you handsome or praised you for a gazillion reasons or held your hand every time I had the chance?”

You playfully mock yourself even if you think you’re very transparent about how you feel. You truly think you can’t like Jungkook anymore than you already do.

“Possibly,” he laughs. “But also because your eyes sparkle when you look or talk about me. It’s kind of a big tell.”

“Imagine if you were half-naked and she caught me ogling at you.”

“Let’s be thankful then that the first time she saw us together, I was fully clothed,” he chuckles.

You nod in agreement and think the same.

It’s quiet again for a while and Jungkook meets your sleepy eyes. He kisses you and he feels your toes curl like they often do, and he smiles against your lips because like always, you’re not afraid to feel things for him, and you’re not afraid to show it.

He promises himself he’ll take after you. And then he can tell you everything he really feels.

You keep your promise and wake up when Jungkook taps your arm. He’s already dressed, and you appreciate how he always gets up first so you have more time to sleep.

You fix up and make your way out in the dark where his motorcycle is parked on the street since he’d really planned on riding around in the morning.

He reminds you of safety guidelines and tells you you’re free to hold onto him anytime, not like you need a reason anyway. He puts on your helmet and helps you up, then starts the drive to a nearby town to head to a spot he’s passed by so many times.

The ride is quiet, with only the soft breeze of the summer morning buzzing as you drive past houses and mountains. You see the coast and he tells you you’re near.

It’s still dark when you arrive but you can get a sense of what’s around you. There’s a walkway that leads to a church and behind it are massive rocks that jut out the ocean. There are some street lights the further you walk and you see the view that he’s talking about. The water is so vast and the boulders are flat and safe enough for you to sit at so you find a spot and sit between his legs, basking in the calmness of your surroundings and the warmth of the man who’s holding you.

“Do you come here often?” You ask, as light starts to dot the horizon.

“Not really. I ride past here sometimes but there are always many people in the morning,” he says. “The sun rises over this side so I thought it would be a good place to go. And well, it’s beautiful and we’ve barely seen it.”

“I already like it. You can just hear the waves crash against the rocks and it’s so refreshing.”

He hums in agreement and asks you how you slept. You talk about the short dream you had and end up talking about the other ones you remember. Jungkook laughs at your stories again and tucks his head in your neck when he does. He holds you tight and shifts around when he senses your legs cramping up.

The sky continues to lighten, as orange and red hues peek out of the ocean.

And then the sun comes and you hold your breath like always. It’s so breathtaking and it feels even more surreal being where you are. It’s another sight that you’ll ingrain in your mind knowing that this time, there’s so much more meaning to it. It’s as if you’ve really come full circle - from that hike up in Chungbuk to Jeju a few months ago to right now.

Jungkook went from someone who was just around you to someone next to you and with you, and you’re filled with so much emotion, just thinking of how you got here.

The sun’s taken its place in the sky and you hum in satisfaction. It’s another one of those daily occurrences that you get to witness and be a part of, and you have the most amazing person you know holding you.

You turn to Jungkook and find that he’s already looking at you. His eyes soften and you smile and he smiles back.

You’re so beautiful this morning, just like you are everyday. But he finds that everyday is a new kind of beautiful, and he wants to keep finding new things about you to gush about. Whether it’s a new pitch of your voice when you’re whining about something, a different reaction when he teases you, another fascinating thought you have, or anything else, really.

He wants to keep learning about and experiencing life with you. He wants to keep holding your hand and settling into this home that both of you keep discovering and enjoying. He wants to—

“Kook, are you okay?” You cut through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

Jungkook sees your face change into one of surprise. It doesn’t worry him though. Even if you don’t feel it yet, you might as well be close to it.

“Is it too soon? Too late?” He wonders.

He at least doesn’t want to put you off.

You look at the man with the prettiest eyes and child-like smile and think that he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever met. To be loved by him is probably your greatest gift.

“Hmm, it’s actually perfect timing,” you say, gazing back to let him know just how much you feel, too.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was just thinking that I can’t like you more than I do now but I could. I could love you and I do, Kook. I… I really do love you.”

You’ve always been one to give in to your feelings and you feel them intensely. At this moment, it’s love that you’re filled with, and you feel it so much for the person in front of you.

He giggles and kisses you softly on the lips. You kiss him back then give him pecks on his cheek until he’s lying on his back and hugging you tightly.

It’s so freeing, as you listen to the ocean waves and the seagulls flying by and Jungkook’s racing heartbeat. It’s as if you’re able to feel all the comfort and passion you could possibly feel for someone and you want it to always be like this.

You settle back on your earlier spot and he wraps his arms around your waist again.

“So, uh. When you have the time, do you mind telling So-you that I won?” He says.

You look at him questioningly.

“I told you she cornered me after the ceremony and asked me if I was your boyfriend, right?” Jungkook starts. “So I explained we were friends and then we started dating and she asked if I plan on marrying you like her uncle Seokjin who was also just friends with her auntie Hayoung and well…”

“What!” You laugh, imagining your 10-year old niece interrogating Jungkook.

“Yeah and well, I said that we haven’t talked about getting married because we just started dating but that I love you so that should be a start,” he continues. “And so I got into this ‘who loves you more competition’ because she insisted it was her and while I understood where she was coming from, I couldn’t accept defeat and I insisted it was me. So we played all these games and your other nephews and nieces started playing along. I won everything but So-you didn’t want to declare me as winner.”

“Why not?”

“She said it’ll only count if I tell you. Because why does it matter if I love you if you don’t know that I do?”

“What a smart girl,” you laugh, thinking of how silly and incredibly adorable that whole exchange might have been.

“She is and she’s right. It matters that you know. And I wanted to tell you that night but I didn’t want you to think it was only because you let me enter coochie heaven naked.”

You laugh again.

“What about yesterday?” You wonder.

“I was going to, especially after seeing how good you were with my family but… I wanted to savor the feeling one last time,” he explains. “Just like when I liked you first and didn’t say anything, I just had these moments of feeling it all to myself and admiring you without expectations. And I get to release it all now and it feels really good.”

“You’re not too bad at expressing your feelings, you know that?” You smile at him, feeling overwhelmed and quite speechless at everything he’s saying.

“I try,” he whispers.

“I love you for it. And for everything else,” you assure him. “So maybe this beats the Jeju sunrise?”

“That was still special on its own. That version of us was trying to figure out if we could be each other’s home. This version…” he says, taking your hand for him to kiss. “This version knows we want to stay in this home for a long time.”

You let his words settle and pull his arms to hug you tighter. It’s all you need because he’s right.

You’ve settled into him, into this with him, and even into this version of yourself that embraces all types of emotions and basks herself in the love she receives and gives.

And as you spend the rest of the morning walking around town with his parents, and as you hold his hand while he drives back to Seoul, you think that he’s who you’ve been wishing for this whole time.

He’s the good that you hoped for and truly deserve, and you don’t think you could ever ask for anything more.

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#jungkook fic #fav fics #<3

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alexiajjk · 9 days ago

Text

dextrocardia | 18

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: blood and violence, knife (and glass) wounds.

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

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part 18/?

You run, feet pounding the floor as you flee into the living room. Determined, Hoseong follows, though not as quickly as before. A loud booming sound echoes through the apartment just as it looks like he's about to charge again—how, you don’t know. The water wasn’t quite boiling anymore, so it wasn’t hot enough to melt his skin off, but it might have left burns. You hope it has. His face did turn red almost immediately, but whether it’s from the water or rage, you’re not sure.

You don't know what the sound was either, not until you see a tall, dark figure storm into the living room with quick, furious steps. The living room is dimmer than the kitchen, and the figure is a little blurry, but you try to focus your eyes on it as it appears behind Hoseong.

“Oh, you fucking idiot,” the man spits, his voice even sharper than Hoseong’s.

You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh as your body relaxes almost involuntarily.

You’re not sure if Hoseong even registers what’s happening before Jeongguk yanks him back by the collar of his jacket, knocking the knife from his hand and immediately delivering a series of hard punches to his face.

Leaving the rest of the fight to Jeongguk, you stumble toward the wall and slide down with your back against it, partially protected by the L-shaped sectional sofa. You watch the fight—or rather, you watch Jeongguk beat the living shit out of Hoseong, your breaths ragged. At first, Hoseong makes a real effort to fight back, landing maybe one or two hits, but even in his prime, you doubt he’d stand a chance one on one against Jeongguk, much less now, worn out and possibly (hopefully) injured.

Even though you assume you’re out of immediate danger, you still can’t calm down. Pain is starting to set in everywhere, and you can’t seem to take a deep breath, either from panic or the pain itself. Maybe it’s the adrenaline wearing off, or perhaps you’re going into shock? Your trembling hands press against your side, and you don’t dare look down to see the extent of your injuries. The glimpses you caught of your hands earlier were more than enough. Any more might push you into a full-blown panic.

With Hoseong now on his back, his upper half obscured from your view by the couch, the loud sound of fists meeting flesh echoes through the room.

You watch.

Punch after punch.

Losing track of time, you can't tell whether it’s been thirty seconds or three minutes when Jeongguk straightens up. There are dark circles of varying sizes scattered unevenly across your white living room wall. He pauses, glancing your way quickly with his chest heaving as he pulls something shiny from his pocket.

You hear the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clicking shut when Jeongguk bends back down. Hoseong, still mostly hidden from your view, only mumbles something when Jeongguk drags him closer to the wall, fastening the handcuffs to a radiator.

Then, Jeongguk hurries toward you, touching his jaw and unknowingly smearing blood across his skin. His wide, worried eyes meet yours as he kneels in front of you, trying to look you over and deem your condition.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice low but tense.

“I haven’t—haven’t looked, but it feels like I’m dying," you whisper, voice shaky.

You force your trembling hands to lift the hoodie for him, seeing his eyes go even wider.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, panic filling his voice as he reaches for you. “Put pressure on it.”

He pulls you closer by your wrist, effortlessly scooping you up into his arms. You slump against his chest, trying to stay awake. Unsure of how deep the wound to your side is, you at least know you’ve lost a lot of blood; your black clothes are damp with it, and there's a worrying puddle on the floor.

Jeongguk carries you through the apartment, past the door he evidently kicked in, and rushes down the stairs to his waiting car that stands abandoned, practically in the middle of the street. His bad parking job has gathered attention from a couple of pedestrians and a middle aged woman, loudly complaining about how her car's blocked in. It feels like you’re seconds away from passing out, maybe even dying, but you manage to stand (with his support) for the second it takes him to open the passenger door, his strong arms quickly helping you inside.

Without a word to the curious—now silent—bystanders, Jeongguk darts around to the driver’s side, jumping into the seat and starting the car in one fluid motion. A second later, he's speeding out of there, and besides the fact that he’s driving like a Formula 1 driver, you don’t pay much attention, already knowing you’re headed to the hospital. Jeongguk calls ahead, rushed but clear words warning them that you’re coming in with a 'deep stab wound and significant blood loss.'

“Keep putting pressure,” Jeongguk instructs after hanging up and tossing his phone somewhere to the side, his voice desperate, and his strong hand right hand pressing over yours.

But you can’t, feeling your own hand lose the last of its strength. Your eyes are already closing.

You feel absolutely terrible the next time you open them. There’s no sharp pain, but your whole body feels sore, beaten, and heavy. A tired groan slips from your dry throat as you try to orient yourself. It’s bright, way too bright, but the rhythmic beeping to your left is what helps you place where you are.

You’re not alone. Your slight movement has alerted your visitor that you’re awake, and he immediately looks your way.

Jimin.

His eyes are soft as he meets your tired gaze, sitting slightly hunched over in a chair by your bedside, his hair a little messy. Although it’s good to see him, he’s not the one you want.

“Jeongguk?” you ask, your voice a weak whisper as your memories return to wash over you.

Just then, the door to your room opens as a nurse steps in. Before it swings shut behind her, you spot two figures in the hallway, their hushed, emotional voices drifting faintly into the room.

“...Right in front of her,” a familiar voice complains quietly, laced with anger and frustration.

“He wasn’t sure you wanted to see him,” Jimin explains, looking cautious.

“I want him,” you plead, still groggy, hurting, and starting to get teary-eyed.

Jimin nods and stands up. “I’ll get him. Want me to dim the light?”

You nod gratefully as Jimin flicks off a switch near the door, dimming one of the ceiling lights. The nurse, smiling gently, copies some numbers from the monitor onto her clipboard.

She introduces herself, but you’re on the brink of breaking down, your eyes watering more with each second, and so you can’t find it in you to care. She seems to understand and leaves quietly just as the door opens again, and Jeongguk steps inside. Your heart feels incredibly heavy as your eyes land on him. Heavy with both need and relief, weirdly enough. He approaches you carefully, his wide eyes hesitant, and he looks exhausted, still wearing the same black hoodie and dark gray jeans as before.

Like a child on the verge of an inconsolable breakdown, you hold your arms out for him, your hands thickly bandaged. Maybe you’re still high on pain meds, or maybe it’s just how you are now, but you don’t care. After all, you nearly died again, and all you wanted was him. You survived, and here he is. What else matters?

Jeongguk is careful in the way he bends down, letting you place your weak, injured hands around his neck. There’s nothing holding your tears back anymore, and you hug him as tightly as you can, so thankful and relieved.

In turn, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close but carefully, as if afraid he might hurt you.

You still haven’t said anything, and you don’t for a while; the only sounds in the room being your quiet sobs and the steady beeping of the machine. After a few minutes, you manage to calm down a little, but you don’t let go of him; instead you try to pull him into the bed with you. He gets the hint, mumbling “It’s bloody,” as he straightens up to shrug off his hoodie, dropping it carelessly on the floor. Left in just a black t-shirt, he bends down again and, this time, lets you pull him into the small hospital bed.

Still breathing shakily, you rest your head against his collarbone, breathing him in. It soothes you. He’s very warm, very safe, and he smells like the best thing in the world to you. His arms hold you tightly, and the slow and gentle motion of his hands rubbing across your back lulls you back to sleep.

The next time you come to, it’s to hushed voices.

“Oh? I’m sorry, sir, you cannot be in here. Visitation hours are between ten and six.”

Fluttering your tired eyes open, you see that the blurry room is dark, and so you simply close them again.

“She needs police protection,” Jeongguk answers tiredly and absentmindedly from beside, almost underneath you, and you feel his slow, warm breath in your hair at the top of your head.

“Police usually stay outside the patient’s room,” the nurse counters. Her voice is unfamiliar and although you’re not sure what time it is, you assume she must be part of the morning shift. “And I’ve certainly never seen them in bed with the patient.”

“Look, lady, respectfully, I don’t care.”

She doesn’t seem to buy it, and you’re a little surprised at Jeongguk’s choice of words. But then again, he’s probably exhausted and worried too, and he didn’t sound mean—just… tired and maybe a little annoyed. When the nurse doesn’t respond right away, Jeongguk sighs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not leaving. If you want to call security, go ahead. As long as she wants me here, I’ll find a legal reason to stay.”

There’s a brief pause as the nurse considers before finally relenting. “Fine.”

She leaves. If you weren’t still mostly asleep and pretty out of it, you might’ve laughed. You still think it warms something in you, though.

“You awake?” Jeongguk asks quietly, softly brushing your hair away from your face with his fingers.

You shift, trying to pull him closer as you hold onto his shirt, breathing him in.

“Yeah,” you mumble tiredly, eyes still adjusting to the light. As they do, they land on his hand as it comes into view.

The damage to your hands was mostly to the palms, one worse than the other, so the thick bandages leave your fingers free to reach for Jeongguk’s hand. His knuckles are red, swollen, and there are a few cuts on his skin. He lets you hold his hand to your face and gently run your fingers over his knuckles. Worry grows in you—don’t they look swollen? Could they maybe even be broken?

“You know I’d never… hurt you, right?” he asks quietly, and it takes you a second to realize what he means. It certainly wasn’t what you were thinking about.

You nod. “I know.”

“Good. So, how are you feeling?”

“I… don’t know. I feel… heavy. I take it I had surgery on my hands and… my stomach?”

“Yeah. Let’s call the doctor back here to explain everything. Also, Jihyo called your mom. She’s on a plane back.”

“Oh, no,” you groan.

“Yeah, sorry. But you were pretty bad.”

“It’s okay,” you say, knowing they did what they thought was best. It just means that you’ll have to actually tell her everything when she arrives. Which reminds you.

“What about... Hoseong?”

“In custody. He’s being treated at another hospital.”

“Okay. Good.”

Half an hour later, a female doctor stands at the foot of the hospital bed—while Jeongguk sits in the chair for once—going over everything. She has a kind face, looks to be in her forties, and she’s dressed in blue scrubs with one of those long white coats draped over them.

“So, while the wound to your abdomen was relatively deep and there were pretty significant lacerations to some of your intestines, we managed to stop the bleeding and repair everything. You’ll need to take it easy for a while, but if everything goes according to plan, there shouldn’t be any long-lasting damage.”

Well, it’s safe to say you’re relieved you didn’t look at your stomach; it seems like Hoseong essentially sliced it right open.

“As for your hands, there will be some scarring as well unfortunately, and we can’t tell just yet if there’s been any nerve damage. Fortunately, the injuries were to your palms and not the fingers or back of your hands, where there are more ligaments and delicate structures. So we'll remain hopeful that the your recovery is smooth and that there's been no damage to your nerves.”

Nodding, you follow along as she explains. It sounds reasonable enough, and you’re just happy that you’ll hopefully still have two functioning hands.

The doctor continues, gesturing to the foot of the bed. “We also treated the cuts on your feet. They weren’t as severe as your hands, but we did put in a few stitches, so I’d suggest staying off your feet for a while. Both for your own comfort but also to not risk reopening the wounds.“

You must’ve really been out of it because you didn’t even really notice until now that, yeah, there’s something wrapped around your feet that’s not socks.

“So there’s a chance I could make a full recovery, except for some scars?”

“Yes,” she smiles. “You were very lucky.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem. We’d like to keep you for a few more days to make sure everything’s healing properly and to assess your hands as the swelling goes down.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Good. Just let us know if you have any more questions. The hand surgeon will be by later to talk more in depth about your hands as well.”

A few hours later, there’s another knock on the door. Expecting it to be a nurse or the hand surgeon, Jeongguk calls ‘Come in’ from beside you in the hospital bed, where he lies with your head on his chest. He went home for a bit to shower and change, Jimin staying by your side in the meantime, and when he came back, all you wanted to do was rest. And you wanted him close.

But it’s not a nurse. The person entering takes one look at you and bursts out in tears.

“Mom?” you say, and the bed shifts as Jeongguk rushes to stand, straightening his clothes—a black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants—as if he needs to look presentable for your mother.

You’re sure she would’ve asked about the man in your hospital bed if she wasn’t so distraught, but she barely glances between you and him before she approaches the bed with teary eyes.

“I got the call, and I–I was so scared,” she sniffles, her gaze trailing over your body and bandaged hands like she wants to hold you but isn’t sure how to.

“I know,” you say, trying to comfort her. “But I’m going to be okay, I promise.”

“So… what… what happened?”

You bite your lip, looking to Jeongguk.

“I’ll head to the cafeteria for a while,” he says, and you nod, grateful.

It’s time to tell your mother everything.

The next hour is a hard and very emotional one. The pain on your mother's face as you recount everything, starting with what Hoseong first did to you and what the consequences were, cuts through your heart as well.

Of course, you spare her the details of the rape and most of the following abuse, not wanting to hurt her more than necessary or put yourself through the shame you know you shouldn’t feel but can’t help experiencing.

You decide to leave Jeongguk’s involvement out of it, certainly not telling her that you spent months wholeheartedly believing he would kill you if only given the chance. For reasons you don’t want to untangle at the moment, you realize that you don’t want your mother to doubt him.

Jeongguk returns at the hour mark, a brown bag in one hand and a takeaway tray with three coffees in the other. Although you didn’t tell your mother about the time you spent deathly afraid of him, you did tell her that you’re essentially only alive right now because of this one very kind policeman. Maybe you also admitted, a little shyly, when she asked that you really like him. And you do; it’s just a summary of your feelings if they were simple.

His hair looks windswept, and you’re briefly taken aback by how handsome he truly is. You’re well aware of the fact—and you’d definitely never forget—but sometimes it just hits you. His dark eyes scan the room, widening in surprise when your mother approaches him so quickly he barely has time to set the coffees down on the small table by the bed before she grasps his hand.

“Thank you,” she says, trying hard not to cry as she clasps his one hand between her smaller ones. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you—that you saved my daughter. I wish there was anything I could do to repay you.”

“Mom,” you warn, embarrassed and wishing she wouldn’t ambush him like that.

However, Jeongguk’s surprised expression softens, and he pulls her into a very gentle one-armed hug, the brown bag still occupying his other hand.

“No need,” is all he says, and you meet his soft gaze over your mother’s head.

Your mother doesn’t stay long. By the time another thirty minutes have passed, she’s struggling to keep her eyes open. When you ask her about it, she admits to not sleeping at all, too worried ever since Jihyo called her with the news. She even forgot to retrieve her luggage at the airport in her haste to grab a cab to the hospital. Unfortunately, knowing that Hoseong is in custody but his friends are not still has her worried. It takes some time, but after convincing her that you’re safe now—not only do you have Jeongguk, but Jimin and Jin are always close by—she reluctantly agrees to go home and rest.

“So… how was it?” Jeongguk asks quietly a few seconds after the door shuts behind her.

You lean back in bed, letting your shoulders relax. You’re sure he knows how hard that conversation was; can tell from your puffy eyes and tired posture.

“Emotional,” you admit. “I never told her anything.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Nothing at all?”

You shake your head. “No. At first, I just didn’t want to worry her, and as things escalated… I was scared that involving her would make her more of a target. She couldn’t have done anything to help either way.”

He seems to be thinking about something, his gaze stuck on the hospital bed, maybe even on your hand where it lies by your side.

“What does she know now?”

“Basically everything, except the… gory details. Or are you asking what she knows about you?”

“Both, I guess. I mean, I take it you didn’t tell her what an ass I’ve been?”

If you had, she would’ve tried to tell him off, her shaky voice cursing him to hell. Evidently, she didn't do that.

“I didn’t, no. I left some details out; figured there was no use.”

Jeongguk leans back in the chair, clearly still bothered by something.

You raise your eyebrows in curiosity. “Why, did you want me to tell her?”

“No, but I also don’t want you to lie to her about me.”

You don't really know what to say to that, so you just look at him, understanding his mixed feelings. Unable to stop it, you yawn. These meds are making you so incredibly sleepy, and you feel like you’ll fall asleep within the next ten minutes whether you like it or not. Noticing how you lie back down, snuggling up with the blanket pulled to your chin, Jeongguk pulls out his phone. You keep your tired eyes on him while he focuses on the small screen, scrolling lazily.

So effortlessly handsome. You can’t even tell if you prefer him with his hair styled—which he doesn’t do very often—and wearing something clean and ironed, or like this: in a hoodie and sweatpants, his black hair a little wild and messy. He looks so warm and so cozy, leaning back in the chair and manspreading casually.

Manspreading is not something you typically like, but when he does it, it just looks… attractive. Probably because you know he’s not one to subject some poor woman to it on the morning commute. He doesn’t invade someone else’s personal space, doesn’t take up room that isn’t his.

“I spoke to Jihyo while I was getting the coffee earlier,” he says, eyes still casually glued to the phone. “She’s really busy, but she wanted me to tell you that she wishes she could be here.”

“It’s fine. She’s already been here,” you mumble into the blanket. He looks so warm.

“Yeah, but you were still unconscious.”

The blanket smells like a washed hospital blanket, not like you know he does. He smells like comfort.

“Mhm,” you agree tiredly, fighting to keep your eyes open. A second later, Jeongguk looks up to see you still watching him—tiredly but with a hint of longing.

He smiles. “Are you waiting for me to join you?”

You nod, certain that it comes off a little shyly. You weren’t very discreet, were you? The bed is pretty small, but you definitely prefer sleeping cuddled up to him rather than alone. It’s the scent of him, the feeling of his warm body against yours that makes you feel… You’re not sure if you can put it into words or if you just don’t want to, choosing to ignore aspects that will inevitably force you to make a decision. Not now.

Still smiling, he locks the phone and rises from the chair, making sure to flick the lights off before he comes to stand at your side. Scooting back to give him room, you watch as he lies down in front of you and slips his arm underneath your head. Then he’s pulling you close. So close that your face is practically in his chest. It becomes clear what he’s doing when a faint glow and quiet taps appear, originating from somewhere behind and above your head. Of course, he doesn’t have the same sleep requirements as you do at the moment, and if you were to guess, he’s probably working on something.

You’ve been left in a bit of a conundrum, though. What do you do with the arm that’s ended up in a bit of an awkward position at your side? The most natural thing would be to rest it against his waist, but it also feels… awkward to do that? Just because you, high on painkillers and almost murdered, like to cuddle with him doesn't mean everything's fine and dandy.

“You don’t have to do all of this,” you say quietly. Even in your slightly drowsy state of denial, you know that you’re confusing. You haven’t brought up the reason for your previous ‘split,’ and you haven’t really solved anything. After you almost died, you’re just relieved to be alive and that he’s okay too, and you hope he realizes that.

The near-silent tapping stops.

“I don’t mind,” he assures calmly, and his voice is quieter too. You like that he’s never seemed like much of an overthinker—at least not when it comes to what he wants. You lift your arm to put it around him, letting it hang off his waist.

He’s so warm, smells so good, and his slow and steady breaths lull you to sleep. As you drift off, you tell yourself not to think so much.

For the next few days, you remain on a fairly high dose of painkillers that keep you drowsy. You’re almost never alone; most of the time, Jeongguk is with you, but when he reluctantly leaves—either for the station or to go home and shower and change—Jin and Jimin take turns watching over you. Occasionally, they pop in to see if you’d like company, quickly taking the hint if you don’t and staying outside.

Your mother sits with you a few times as well, but you can’t relax when she looks at you like she does; as if she’s heartbroken, which you realize she might very well be. You’ve had years to process most of what’s happened to you, and you guess you’d feel the same if the roles were reversed, but you can’t take it, so you send her home with the promise that you’ll be fine. You’re just resting, anyway. After a bit of convincing, she leaves, but not before making a knowing comment about how cute the kind policeman is. You dismiss her with an embarrassed smile and a wave of your bandaged hand.

As the hours turn to days in that hospital room, think is unfortunately all you do. You think about what you’ve experienced and what you’ve seen. The feelings you feel are complicated, woven together in an intricate pattern with threads of varying thickness. Pull on one and it tugs at another; pull too hard on a strong thread and thinner might snap. The closer Jeongguk is, the more tangled the mess seems to be.

author's note: here's this!! posted in celebration of jeonstudios reaching a follower milestone and more importantly: the boys returning!!! i hope you liked it, please tell me if you did!! <3<3

#one of the best fics ever written im forever obsessed #jungkook fic #fav fics

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alexiajjk · 9 days ago

Text

Teach Me How To Love - Part 8

jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor! jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w/c: 13.8k

warnings: jk's mood starts out kinda down, oc pours her heart out on a long ass voicemail, the long awaited reunion (yay yay yayyyy), lots of tears (happy tears, don't worry guys), loads and loads of fluff, love confessions, mentions of oc going to therapy, mention of jk's kiss with hana (🙄), talks of oc's past relationship trauma, explicit sexual content; lots of kissing, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, missionary, morning sex, brief cowgirl, doggy, post-sex shower and breakfast.

a/n: AHHHHHH !!!! WAR HAS ENDED !!! i'm so happy for my babies y'all, they're so in love 🥹🥹 pleasssseeee let me know all your thoughts because i'd love to hear them. do all the lovely things (like, comment, reblog) because it really helps me, and enjoy !! 🫂🫶🏼

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @livinluvl @puppybunnyjkay @mimi1097 @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth @chimmisbae @daskewl @ramyun-h @heyitsroshni @matryoshka-poetry @almatiarau @gukkie7 @ambiee3 @blueberriesm @milkk1400 @yuriouki @lovelovethebeatles @somehowukook @deedeeps @emily-hung @jkaxl @bhonbhon @bearchermer @annafarrr @in-out-inbetween @mar-lo-pap @lilacstellar

find tmhtl masterlist here

find tmhtl playlist here

The snow falls in quiet, gentle flakes outside his office window, blanketing Yonsei's campus in white. It's beautiful in that cinematic, melancholic kind of way. It's the kind of snow that makes you wish you had someone to hold hands with, someone to snuggle under a blanket, someone who would gently brush their fingers over your eyes and say, "It's sticking to your eyelashes, dummy."

But all Jungkook has is silence.

The campus is mostly empty, buildings shuttered for winter break, windows no longer glowing with office lights. The buzz of the semester has finally burned itself out and so has Jungkook.

His office is warm but sterile, lit by the dull buzz of fluorescent lights. He could have left by now, just like everyone else. The last of the faculty had filtered out hours ago, eager to escape into the arms of winter break, laughing in wool coats and boots as they made promises to unplug, to rest, to spend the break baking and sleeping in and binge-watching dramas.

He could've gone home too, should have, honestly, but he stayed. Not because he has to, but because there's nothing waiting for him at home except a fridge of neglected groceries, a sleeping Bam, and a bed that feels cold and lonely to sleep in. He barely sleeps in his bed. Most nights, he just falls asleep on the couch after drowning himself in work. That must be why he hasn't noticed anything missing from his home, anything that would be incredibly valuable to him, like a box filled with his heart written out on paper.

Taehyung hasn't said anything about the box he stole that night. He's done what he could do and all he can do now is wait and see what you choose to do with what you were given.

Jungkook hasn't gotten a chance to speak to Taehyung in the past week because he's been spending his time grading the last of his students' exams and spending his free time with Jihyo. He's happy for him. At least one of them got their girl.

Life has started to feel like it's moving again, and he can't decide if that's a good thing or not. It's not to say that his life has been meaningful in any way because that would be a lie. He goes to work and goes home to Bam, who he pours all of his affection into. He goes through the motions of eating and sleeping because he has to or else he won't survive, but it doesn't feel as burdensome as it used to.

Does that mean he's starting to move on from you? He can't lie and say yes. He doesn't know how to do that.

Move on.

A part of him still holds onto the hope that it'll all end with you. The other part of him feels like four months is too long a time to keep hoping. Something inside of him, that petty little thing gnawing at his brain, wishes you would come crawling back and beg for his forgiveness for breaking his heart, the forgiveness he stupidly already gave you without you even having to ask for it.

Most days, going home means stillness, and in stillness, you return. Home is where the walls still remember your voice, whether it be laughing at something he said or moaning as he explored your body. Home is where Jungkook lies awake in bed thinking about the day he finally told you he loved you, and you couldn't say it back. Not because you didn't feel it, he knows you felt it, but because you didn't feel safe enough to say it.

It still hurts, but some days work takes his mind off of things for a while and it hurts just a little bit less. Like today.

He leans back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes with the heel of his palm. The last batch of admin forms is finally filed, course evaluations uploaded, and emails answered. His brain feels like static on a tv screen, his body running on bitter, re-heated coffee. He didn't eat lunch. He barely had time for breakfast because he accidentally overslept and had to fly out the door without even a glance at the mirror.

He heaves a deep sigh and glances at the clock on the wall.

6:57pm.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath, gathering his things. He shrugs on his coat and slings his satchel over his shoulder before flicking off the office light.

The hallway echoes with his footsteps. For the first time in months, he doesn't turn his head in hopes of catching a glance at you in the hallways.

Outside, the snow crunches beneath his boots as he makes his way to the parking lot. It's basically empty, given everyone already left to enjoy the start of their winter break. He'd normally text Taehyung to ask if he's still on campus, maybe suggest grabbing a coffee, but his phone is sitting right on his kitchen counter at home. Of course. That's the result of forgetting to set an alarm in the morning.

Today's apparently just not his day. And now, the final cherry on top: two hours' worth of traffic.

Jungkook groans as his car crawls along the main road, brake lights stretching endlessly ahead of him like a red river of holiday misery. The snow isn't helping, but neither is the wave of exhaustion crashing over him. He stares out the window, chin resting against his knuckles.

He should be excited to have time off. Everyone else is. All he can think about, however, is how much emptier everything feels now.

By the time he finally pulls up to his driveway, it's well after 9pm. The snow is still falling, covering the sidewalk in a thin white coat, his foot almost slipping when he gets out of the car. He slams his car door shut, trudging up to the front door, shrugging off his coat and kicking off his boots in the entryway. Bam greets him at the door, tail wagging, whining excitedly as he rubs his head against Jungkook's leg.

"Hey, big boy," he murmurs, dropping his bag to kneel down and scratch behind the dog's ears. "I missed you too, buddy."

Bam licks his cheek and bolts to the living room, expecting their usual post-work playtime, but Jungkook's energy is spent.

He heads straight for the kitchen, pulls out a can of beer and stares at it for a few seconds before cracking it open with a sigh. The first sip tastes bitter but he drinks it anyway. Then he sinks into the couch, his shoulders slumped, and stares blankly at the black tv screen. The beer does nothing to warm the hollowness inside him.

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes, letting the low hum of the heater fill the room. Now that he has no work to keep him busy, he's left with a dull ache in his chest.

His beer is halfway finished when Jungkook hears the buzz of his phone coming from the kitchen counter.

He doesn't feel like speaking to anyone right now, but he reluctantly drags himself off the couch and pads over to get the phone from the counter, letting out a sigh as he unlocks it to see who's bothering him.

It's a text from his mom.

Mom [9:46]: Jungkook, please make sure you're careful out there! I read something about a man who slipped and cracked his skull open in the snow. Dead instantly! Love you. Wear proper shoes!!

Jungkook stares at the screen, blinking. He lets out a faint chuckle, his thumbs flying across the screen to let her know that he is in fact alive and well, and that she should stop reading those Facebook posts.

He goes through his missed notifications and doesn't find anything out of the ordinary. That is until he sees it.

Missed call. One voicemail.

From you.

His entire body goes stiff, and for a moment, all he can do is stare at your name on his screen, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. He doesn't press play. Not right away. He stares at the little play button like it might bite him. In fact, it might just kill him.

You called him after months of radio silence and he can't figure out why. He doesn't even realize he's pacing around the living room until Bam lets out a small huff of confusion. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair almost a million times, his phone clutched to his chest.

What if it's closure?

What if you're saying goodbye for real this time?

What if you're trying the fix what you broke?

He doesn't know which of those scares him more, if he's quite honest with himself. But then he remembers your face. The way you looked that morning when you broke things off. You didn't look angry, just...scared. Wounded.

He has to listen to the voicemail. He can't not listen to it.

He takes one deep breath, a really long, drawn-out breath, and hits play.

Your voice crackles softly through the speaker and his legs almost give in.

"Hey...it's, uhm...it's me. I, uhh...I know it's been months...and you probably don't want to hear from me...and I wouldn't blame you..."

There's a long pause before you continue, and he stands frozen, waiting with bated breath.

"I know you're hurt...and angry...and uhm..."

There's another pause before a deep sigh.

"You said you wanted to get to know the...the real me, so, uhm...I wrote some things down and I wanted to read them to you. It's kinda stupid, I know...and if you just want to put the phone down right now, I understand...but..."

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, hearing the shakiness of your voice. It makes his stomach churn with nerves.

"I grew up very shy...kinda nerdy. I was bullied a lot in elementary school, so my parents had to put me in another school because girls would call me ugly names and lock me in the bathroom during break. I have a close relationship with my parents. They're the people I hold most dear to me, and my sister, Yuna, who you already know about. My parents worked really hard to provide the best for us. My mom was a seamstress, and my dad actually worked as a lecturer at SNU for almost thirty years. I think I saw how passionate he was about his job, so I followed in his footsteps," you chuckle.

"I took ballet from the age of five to thirteen, and piano around twelve, but I forgot most of it, so please never ask me to play. I had braces at thirteen and I had a 'Dora the Explorer' haircut for most of middle school," you sigh.

As the seconds tick by, the ache in Jungkook's chest swells. With every word, every pause, every breath you take on the other end of the line, something in his unravels. He sits down on the couch and closes his eyes, listening with a smile on his face, his eyes stinging with emotion.

"I love spicy food, even though my stomach hates me afterwards. I love it, can't stop eating it. My mom always scolds me and says I'm hurting my body, but...oh well," you scoff. "I know you always make fun of me for liking matcha, so shut up, I don't wanna hear it, Jeon Jungkook. I like matcha, okay? Sue me. My favourite flavour of ice cream is vanilla, boring and basic, I know. I love baking, which you already know because you've gotten a batch or two of cookies on your desk at work from an unknown source, even though I know that you know it was always me. I love chocolate cake, the really fudgy kind that's almost too sweet and you have to drink a glass of milk with it. I had two pets throughout my childhood and Miso is my third. I might be biased but she's the best. Okay, uh, what else? Uhmmm...I have a fear of heights...and snakes...and clowns. Fucking hate clowns. I'm allergic to pollen and get really stuffy and sneezy during spring, but you always give me your little pack of tissues, which I never actually see you use, so I think you only buy them to give them to me. I've never travelled outside of Korea, but I'd like to someday. Maybe to Barcelona or Paris. I love romcoms and all the cliché, sappy stuff that's way too unrealistic to actually happen in real life...and my embarrassing guilty pleasure is Love Island. Don't make fun of me because I know you will!"

There's another long pause while you brace yourself for what's to come. Jungkook hangs onto every word, the phone clutched tightly in his shaky hand.

"I was in a seven-year relationship with my ex, Sunghoon...the one I told you about in Jeju. We met when I was sixteen...and...I thought I was going to marry him and have babies...grow old together..."

Jungkook feels his face burn hot with suppressed emotion. This is it. This is what he's been waiting for. You're finally giving him the missing puzzle pieces he never had before. You're finally telling him why you could never fully give yourself to him.

"Sunghoon proposed to me and, naturally, I said yes because...I thought that he was...my person," you sigh. "He told me that I was the one true love of his life and that he would never do anything to hurt me. And then he...cheated on me. He cheated on me with a friend of mine and...I packed up my things and I left."

Your voice is shakier now, like you're willing yourself not to cry, and this almost breaks Jungkook completely.

"I cried on Jihyo's bathroom floor for God knows how long. It took me almost two years to stop hurting. I blamed myself. He blamed me too. I let him convince me that it was somehow my fault that he cheated, that I just wasn't good enough for him. And I was so depressed for such a long time because of what he did to me. I promised myself that I would never let anyone in like that again...I would never allow myself to be loved by a man because that would give them the power to hurt me. And then I transferred to work at Yonsei and...and then I met you. And we became friends...and you were so...kind...and so welcoming...and you made me feel comfortable. And then we got drunk at that staff Christmas party last year and had sex, and maybe I was stupid enough to think that no one would end up getting hurt in the end. And when we kept doing it, I needed those boundaries to keep me safe from being hurt by the cute economics professor I was secretly hooking up with. Those stupid rules and boundaries would protect me from you and the feelings I knew I was starting to develop for you. I knew that if I let you stay the night...if I let you kiss me whenever you wanted...if I fell asleep in your arms every night...I knew that I'd fall in love with you. And yet...stupid me, and my stupid heart...I didn't care about any of that because I still fell. I fell in love with you."

You let out a soft sigh, your voice trembling.

"When we started hooking up, you made me feel like a woman again instead of an empty shell. You made me feel desired and...sexy...and beautiful. You made me feel like I wasn't the problem all along...like Sunghoon cheating on me wasn't because of anything that I did. And when you told me you loved me it all just became a bit too real, and I freaked out because Sunghoon loved me too at some point, and he still betrayed me. And if I told you that I loved you...it would be opening myself up to be hurt again. And I get it if you never want to speak to me again because I wouldn't either if I were you. I'm a mess and I run away when I get scared and I hurt people before they can hurt me...and...and I punished you because of Sunghoon's actions. I hurt you because he hurt me and I'm so, so sorry, Jungkook."

It's as if time stands still for Jungkook. He almost thinks that's the end of it, but your voice comes through right at the end in a soft, shaky murmur.

"You are...the sweetest, kindest...most amazing man that I have ever met...and I love you, Jungkook. I'm so utterly...madly in love with you...and you deserve so much better than me...but if you give me the chance...I swear I'll never hurt you like I did before. So...yeah...that's all. Please call me back. Bye."

Jungkook doesn't move for a while after the voicemail ends. He just sits there, staring down at the phone in his hand as if it still holds your voice, like if he listens hard enough, maybe he can hear you right here with him in his living room.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears his own broken sob slipping from his throat and harshly stabbing his ears. It startles him. It sounds raw. Uncontrolled.

His head spins as the weight of the voicemail finally crashes into him. Everything you said, everything you gave him in that voicemail, it was real. It was all of you.

You're finally letting him see the real you.

You gave him everything he thought you'd never trust him with; your pain, your past, your fears, your truth. And it wrecks him.

He sinks onto his back on the couch, the phone clutched like it holds all the most precious secrets in the world. The only thing wracking through his brain is your voice. It echos in his ears, every confession whispered with shaky breath.

You really love him.

He presses a hand over his mouth as another sob escapes, muffled and aching, tears slipping hot and fast down his cheeks. It's quiet devastation. It's relief and love and hope.

He has to get to you. Now.

Jungkook rushes to stand up and gather his things. His hands shake as he looks for his keys. Where the hell are his keys? He pats down every pocket, rushing from the living room to the entryway, looking frantic, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it might tear through his ribs.

He yanks on his boots, almost falling over in the process. He doesn't even care to put his coat on because he finds his keys and rushes to yank the front door open, but he freezes at the sight that greets him.

There you are. Standing on his porch.

Your hand is raised as if you were about to ring the doorbell, but you freeze, caught mid-motion. Snow falls around you, gathering in your hair, on your shoulders, soft and shimmery in the porch light. You're clutching something against your chest.

The box.

His box.

Jungkook's heart lurches into his throat, so hard and so fast it's almost painful.

Neither of you say anything at first. You both just stare at each other with wide eyes and ragged breaths, cold snowflakes melting on heated cheeks and old tears drying as new ones form.

And then you speak, soft and steady.

"I read your letters."

His stomach twists sharply, his hands trembling where they hover uselessly by his sides.

He blinks at you, completely stunned. "W-What?"

You tighten your hold on the cardboard box as if it's the only thing anchoring you there. The lid almost falls off, which feels quite like your emotions as you stand before him, just begging to spill out at the seams.

"I read all of them. Every single one. Even the ones from as far back as four years ago."

Jungkook's mouth opens but nothing comes out at first. His eyebrows furrow, a million questions running through his head. When he finally does speak, his voice is breathless, almost too quiet to hear. "How did you get those?"

You shift the box in your hold, steadying it under your arm while you wipe your damp cheek with the sleeve of your sweater, fresh tears falling.

"Taehyung," you croak out, your chuckle shaky and broken. "He...he must have stolen them if you didn't even know I had them."

He scoffs, his eyebrows shooting up. "That little-"

You cut him off with a shaky laugh, stepping forward, the snow crunching under your shoes.

"I'm glad he did, Kook," you murmur, your voice wobbling with your emotions. "Because if he hadn't...I never would've known..."

He stares at you, his heart hammering with every inch that disappears between your bodies. "Known what?"

You swallow thickly, your tears glistening in your lashes. "That you loved me even when I didn't deserve it. Even when I insisted on keeping you at arm's length. That...you saw me, even the parts I tried to hide."

You let out a breath, your voice quivering, your eyes welling up until everything spills over and runs down your face.

"That you waited for me to be brave enough to love you back."

You step closer, your words spilling out, desperate and earnest like you have to convince him of your true feelings.

"I read every word, Jungkook. I read about all the little things you noticed about me when I thought no one did. I read about all the nights you got close to confessing your feelings for me but didn't because you knew I wasn't ready to receive it. How much you hoped that I would choose you someday. And it made me realize that I was never scared of you hurting me. I was scared because...because you loved me so deeply and...I didn't think I deserved to be loved like that by someone as good as you."

You sniffle, laughing weakly through heavy tears. "But you loved me anyway. You loved me so...patiently. And I was too much of a coward to let myself have it."

Jungkook's body buzzes with adrenaline, his muscles trembling, his emotions boiling so violently inside him that he feels as if he might fall to his knees. But he remains firm. He owes it to himself.

"I'm so, so sorry, Jungkook," you whisper. "I'm sorry for pushing you away and I'm sorry for making you think you weren't enough. You're everything. You always have been."

He can't take it anymore. He can't bear to stand here anymore and not have you in his arms where you belong.

In one swift motion, Jungkook steps forward and grabs the box of letters from your hands, tossing it somewhere inside without a care before cupping your cheeks in his trembling hands, pulling you to him.

And then he's kissing you. Hard. Desperate. He kisses you like he's trying to pour every unsaid word, every lonely night, every broken piece of himself into you, where he feels safe.

You whimper against his lips, your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt like you'll drown without him. The snow falls even heavier, but neither of you notice. All he knows is that you're here now. You're home.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Kook," you mumble against his mouth, pulling away to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing. "Don't apologize. You're here now."

"Still. I shouldn't have hurt you just because I was still hurting from my past. It wasn't your fault. You didn't deserve that."

He hears the genuine remorse in your voice, sees the guilt in your eyes, and it twists his heart. He wants to argue and tell you that he knows you were just protecting yourself, that it's all okay, but he doesn't. He can't deny that it hurt, the silence you gave him, the cold shoulder.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your face and gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. "I understand why you did it...but I'm not your ex. I wouldn't...I'd never..." he trails off, his words getting caught in his throat.

You nod, offering him a soft smile, your eyes growing glossy. "I know."

He swallows, his throat feeling tight. "I couldn't hurt you like that. I care about you too much."

"I know, baby," you whisper, gently pecking his lips.

The pet name sends a shiver down his spine. It has never sounded better than when it rolls off your tongue.

He kisses you back, closing his eyes as he savours the feeling of your mouth on his, your tongues moving in a slow dance. He wraps his arms around you, keeping you against his chest, his hands trailing up and down your back.

He breaks the kiss only long enough to press his forehead against yours, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his thumbs gently stroking your back through the wool of your sweater.

"I missed you," he chokes out. "God, I missed you so much, ___."

His mouth finds yours again. It's softer now, slower, tasting the saltiness of your fresh tears, the sweetness of your lips on his, the warmth of having you, really having you this time.

He drags you inside, kicking the door shut with his foot, not once letting you go.

Bam barks excitedly somewhere behind him, but Jungkook barely hears him. His world has narrowed to the feeling of you in his arms, the weight of you real and warm and finally his to love.

"Don't leave me again," he whispers into the kiss. "Please."

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder. "Never," you promise, your voice breathless, thick with emotion. "Never again."

Outside, the snow falls, blanketing the city with the finality of the year past, but inside, your kisses hold the promise of everything that's still waiting to begin.

Jungkook doesn't break the kiss as he walks you backwards down the hall, pausing every few steps just to murmur your name against your lips like he still can't believe you're really here.

Your back hits the doorframe of his bedroom, and he smiles against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist as he guides you inside. The room is dim except for the glow of the snowfall filtering through the curtains, silver light dusting over the bed, the walls, you.

He kicks the door closed to make sure Bam doesn't interrupt because he can't afford to stop at a moment like this. He keeps moving until he stops in front of the bed and pulls away from the kiss to look at you properly, looking at you like you're something holy, something he's afraid to touch too quickly and ruin.

His hands drift down from your waist, slow and reverent, until they find the hem of your sweater. His fingers brush teasingly along the strip of skin just above your jeans, and you shiver under his touch.

You reach for the hem to help him, but he gently shakes his head, his lips brushing against your temple. "Let me. Please."

You nod, your heart pounding, your eyes shining as you look up at him in the dim light of his bedroom, the moonlight making everything feel that much softer and sweeter.

With infinite tenderness, Jungkook lifts your sweater, bunching it higher inch by inch. His hands graze over your sides, your ribs, the underswell of your breasts. You raise your arms for him, and he pulls the fabric over your head, tossing it aside without ever taking his eyes off you.

His breath hitches, his hands skimming back down to cradle your waist. "You're so goddamn perfect," he murmurs, like a secret meant only for you.

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. Without speaking, you undo each one and slowly pull the cotton off of his shoulders, watching it fall to the ground. His skin is warm and solid under your touch, and your palms flatten against his chest, feeling the pounding rhythm of his heart.

Jungkook captures your mouth in a slow, passionate kiss, his hands sliding down to your hips. You clumsily kick off your shoes and he gently walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and then, with a careful push, he lays you down among the pillows.

He hovers over you, just staring, his gaze drinking you in like you're the most precious thing he's ever seen. His thumb strokes lightly across your cheekbone.

"Hi," you whisper, smiling up at him, like two lovers meeting after an eternity apart.

"Hi, baby," he whispers before dipping his head to kiss you once more. But he doesn't stay at your mouth for too long.

His lips trail lower, across your jaw, down the curve of your throat. He worships every inch of skin he comes across in his path, kissing slowly, desperately, down to the hollow between your collarbones, the soft curve of your breast, his fingers reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

He gently tosses the material to the floor and dips his head to swirl his tongue around a nipple, giving it a nice, slow suck before pulling off with a pop, moving on to the other nipple.

Your fingers thread through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he licks and sucks on your breasts, leaving them glistening under the moonlight.

With a lingering kiss to the underside of your breast, he moves lower, trailing his wet lips down the dip of your stomach.

He pulls away to sit back on his knees, reaching for the button of your jeans. "Can I take these off?"

You nod, appreciating that he asked, even though you would never say no to that request.

"Yes," you breathe out, lifting your hips to let him pull the denim from your legs, the weight of it hitting the floor with a dull thud. His lips are back on you in an instant, teasing your hipbones.

You arch into him, soft whimpers leaving your throat with every brush of his mouth. Your hands bury themselves further into his hair, needing to anchor yourself somehow, needing to hold onto something in case you float up to heaven. That's how good his lips feel on your sensitive skin.

Jungkook kisses lower, slower, until he's kneeling at the edge of the bed between your legs. He looks up at you one last time, his hand stroking up your thigh, a silent question in his eyes.

You nod, your voice breaking as you whisper a soft, "Please, baby."

And then he removes your panties and places them with the rest of your clothing on his bedroom floor, his eyes locked onto your waiting core. "You're so beautiful, ___," he sighs, his voice taking on a blissful, almost dreamy tone.

He leans in, placing a feathery light kiss to your mound, his breath brushing against your skin.

The first drag of his tongue through your folds is enough to make your back arch off the bed, an airy moan spilling from your lips. He is devastatingly slow, deliberate, like he has all the time in the world, like your pleasure is the only thing that has ever mattered to him.

He slowly licks up and down between your folds, collecting your essence on his tongue, his hands softly squeezing your thighs.

"You taste amazing," he breathes, pulling back so he can look up at you, his gaze meeting yours, his tongue trailing over his lips before diving back in.

He licks from your slit up to your clit, your eyes fluttering shut, your fingers gripping his hair.

You've never had a man know your body the way he does. He knows you inside and out, and the thought is enough to make you clench around nothing.

"Fuck, baby," you moan breathlessly as he focuses on your clit, swirling his tongue around it before sucking slowly, your thighs trembling in his hold.

Jungkook groans against your pussy as he feels you writhe beneath him, as he tastes the depth of your need. His hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you open for him as he works you with his tongue, giving your clit slow, patient strokes, never rushing, never letting up.

He pulls back only briefly to kiss your inner thigh, whispering, "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."

You sob his name, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue trails lower to tease your entrance, gently pushing inside.

He smiles against your wet folds, burying his tongue deep within your velvet walls, thrusting the muscle in and out while his nose rubs against your swollen clit, devouring you with the kind of tenderness that feels like a prayer. It's passionate. It's overwhelming. It's everything you've both been aching for.

"Does that feel good?" he mumbles, his voice muffled against your pussy, looking up at you through his lashes. He trails his tongue back up to your clit, licking and sucking it with more vigour and determination to make your eyes roll back in your head.

"S-so good, Kook," you whimper, arching your back as he laps at your clit, spreading your things wider, your stomach clenching as the pleasure flows through your veins. "Just like that, baby..."

He hums against your core, the sound sending vibrations through your body. He brings two of his fingers to slide through your folds, getting it wet before slowly pushing into you, feeling how tight you are for him. It makes something within him ache, makes the fire in his veins grow hotter.

"Tell me if it's too much," he mumbles between licks, always considerate of your needs and your pleasure.

"N-no, it's...it's not too much," you mutter breathlessly, moaning as he curls his fingers inside you, the feeling twisting in your gut. "Feels...s-so good...I'm almost there," you gasp, feeling him flick his tongue a little bit faster.

He laps at your pussy like a starved man, his fingers pumping in and out of you faster, wanting to bring you the pleasure only he can give you.

You cry out in pleasure as he curls his fingers at just the right angle, rubbing against your sweet spot, his tongue flicking at your clit with toe-curling precision.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...!"

And when you cum on his tongue, crying out his name into the air, Jungkook holds you through it, murmuring soft words of love and praise against your pulsating core.

Your grip on his hair is almost painful, your vision going black as your orgasm washes over you. He gives your clit a few gentle licks to help you through it, slowly pulling his fingers out of your entrance, now glossy from your slick.

"Oh my God," you whisper under your breath, slowly catching your breath as he presses wet, lingering kisses to your folds, your body going completely limp against his mattress.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice hoarse from how hard he's breathing, his eyes flicking up to yours.

"I'm...amazing," you chuckle softly, watching as he crawls back up your body, hovering over you to make sure you're feeling good. You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he licks and sucks his fingers clean, your pussy clenching at the sight.

He leans in to kiss your lips, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, feeling you sigh out against his lips. He licks over your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before gently biting down and giving it a slow tug, watching it bounce back in place with a soft smile on his face.

"You're the most perfect woman," he whispers tenderly.

You look up into his eyes, feeling like it's now or never. "I love you, Kook," you murmur, gently cupping his face in your shaky hands.

He smiles and tilts his face in your hands, softly kissing your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. "You love me?"

You nod sincerely, smiling as you watch him rise from the bed. His hands move to the button of his pants, working it open with slow, deliberate movements, his dark gaze trained on you. There's something intense about the way he looks at you, like he's letting you see all the hunger, all the love, all the devotion he's carried for you for so long.

He pushes his pants and boxers down his hips in one fluid motion, letting them fall to the floor.

And then his hand wraps around his cock, slow and sure, stroking once, twice, his eyes burning into yours, his fist twisting at the tip.

Your breath catches in your chest. You can't move, can't look away, feeling hypnotized by the sheer beauty of him, by the tenderness that lingers behind the lust in his eyes.

He groans softly at the feeling of his palm wrapped around his cock, the sound deep and rough, his muscles flexing under the soft glow of the moonlight.

But he doesn't leave you waiting for long.

Jungkook lets go of his cock and it stands fully erect, the tip a faint red, oozing a clear pearl of precum. He lets out a shaky exhale and crawls up the bed toward you, his hands planted on either side of your head as he cages you beneath him.

Your legs part instinctively, your knees bending to cradle his hips between your legs, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes slipping shut as if the closeness alone is almost too much to bear. He presses a tender peck to your lips and lowers his hips just slightly, grinding down against you in a slow, dragging motion.

The feeling of his hard length pressing against your sensitive core makes you whimper into his mouth, your hands trailing down his toned chest and stomach, up to his shoulders, over his back, touching every inch of skin you can reach.

Jungkook takes ahold of his cock, trailing the head through your soaked folds, lightly pressing the tip against your entrance. He swallows thickly as he looks down at your body, your thighs spread wide for him, offering yourself to him.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down into another kiss, slow and deep, tasting of second chances. You pull back, your noses brushing against one another, your breath mingling in the tiny space between you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice trembling.

Jungkook's hand cradles the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek with devastating tenderness.

"I love you too," he breathes, pecking your lips. "I've loved you for so long."

And when he finally starts to push inside you, he does it slowly, like he's savouring every second, like he's memorizing the feeling of having you wrapped around him after so many long, torturous months.

Neither of you can stop the soft, broken moans that fall from your lips as you become one again, in every way possible.

His hand slides up the side of your thigh as he slowly sinks deeper into you, his chest tightening at how good it all feels, how right it feels to make love to you.

He presses his forehead to yours once he bottoms out, his lips hovering just above yours for a moment before he kisses you, his whole being aching with love, his hips pulling back only to thrust back inside, burying himself in you as deep as he can go.

The rhythm between you builds naturally, slow thrusts of his hips against yours, gentle kisses that grow deeper, heavier, more desperate. You cling to each other like you're afraid to let go, the emotion between you too much to hold back, too much to contain.

"Fuck," Jungkook chokes out, his voice raw. "You're...you're everything to me..."

You wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair, your lips moving against his so passionately you almost don't register the fresh set of tears wetting your lashes.

He rocks his hips into you in the slowest, most tender rhythm you've ever felt. Each thrust is deep and languid, every roll of his body against yours speaking more than words ever could.

"I'm sorry, baby," he breathes against your lips. "I'm sorry I let you go. I should've fought harder."

You shake your head, tears slipping down your temples into the pillow. "No, Jungkook...I'm sorry. I should've been braver. I should've-"

He kisses you again, swallowing your shaky apology. "It's okay. We're here now," he murmurs, his voice quivering. "We're here."

You nod, clinging to him tighter, your arms and legs tightening around him.

The world outside blurs into nothing. Only the slow, rhythmic joining of your bodies remains, the gasps, the whimpers, the whispered 'I love you's between desperate kisses.

He's everywhere, his mouth mapping your jaw, your neck, your shoulders, his hands roaming your sides, your thighs, your hips. Worshipping you. Reassuring himself that you're here, that you're his.

"Baby, tell me if it's too much," he mumbles, his lips softly pressing to your cheek, his cock pumping in and out of your heat at a devastating pace.

"It's perfect, baby," you moan, cupping his face in your hands, feeling him thrust deeper, faster. "Feels s-so perfect."

His muscles tremble above you, his heart pounding in his chest. "God, I'm so in love with you," he groans against your skin, his thrusts growing more intense, his body craving more of you.

He makes love to you like no one ever has before, his fingers intertwining with yours against the sheets. Your bodies fit together like you were made for one another, like you were meant to do this for the rest of your lives.

He wants you like this forever, wants to spend the rest of his life with you, exactly like this. He loves you so much that it aches, his chest full, his mind spinning.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you moan, pushing your head back into the pillow, your walls clenching around him, your chest heaving. "I'm so close..."

"I know, baby," he mutters, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "I'm right here. I've got you, my love."

He slides one hand down between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, thrusting his hips harder, that thick, heady feeling growing in your lower belly.

"Oh my God...f-fuck, baby, I'm c-cumming..!"

When you reach the peak of your pleasure, when your legs tighten around his waist and your walls clench desperately around him, Jungkook doesn't speed up.

He stays with you.

He carries you through it.

He presses his mouth against your shoulder, murmuring soothing reassurances, feeling you tremble and sob beneath him from the intensity of your second orgasm.

And when he follows you over the edge seconds later, it's with a low, guttural groan of your name, his arms shaking with how tightly he holds onto your body. His muscles shake, his cock twitching as he coats your insides with thick, white ropes of his cum.

It's been a while since he's felt such an intense pleasure. Sex with you always feels amazing, but making love and knowing that you love him back is something that he doesn't know how he'll ever get used to.

Neither of you lets go. Even when the aftershocks fade and your breathing evens out. He stays inside you, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

The snow falls quietly against the bedroom window, but inside, everything is finally still.

You're safe. You're home.

"I'm never letting you go again, ___," Jungkook whispers against your damp skin, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Never."

You nod, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He kisses your tears off your skin and whispers sweet promises into your ear, pulling soft giggles from your lips. It's not long before his cum starts to dry between your legs, so he reluctantly pulls out of you to go and get a warm, wet rag from the bathroom. He cleans you up between your thighs, making sure to be as gentle as possible as he drags the rag through your messy folds.

Jungkook quickly goes to toss the rag back in the bathroom and crawls back in bed. He pulls the covers over the two of you without breaking contact between your bodies, wrapping you up so tightly in his arms that you can feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.

He rolls onto his back, welcoming your head on his chest. His fingers trace slow, absentminded shapes along your back, his other hand tangled with yours under the covers. Your legs are draped over his, your cheek resting just below his collarbone, where you can feel the soft rise and fall of his chest with every breath.

You both bask in the silence for a while, just breathing each other in, your hearts syncing back into rhythm. But eventually, you shift, angling your face up toward his. "Can I tell you something?"

He hums. "You can tell me anything."

You pause, your fingers toying with the edge of the blanket draped across his chest. "I recently started going to therapy."

Jungkook's brows raise. He shifts so he can see you better, gently brushing some of your hair out of your face. "You have?"

You nod. "Yeah. I started going about two weeks ago. I didn't know what else to do after everything. I felt like I was stuck in this loop of blaming myself and not letting go of what Sunghoon did, of how it ended. So…I'm trying. You know, to start fresh, I guess. Learn how to not self-destruct every time I get scared."

His eyes soften, his lips spreading into a gentle smile. He presses his lips to your forehead and keeps them there for a moment. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You let out a breathy chuckle, but your voice is quiet when you respond. "I wanted to be better. Mostly for the girl who believed she wasn't worthy of love. I owe her that much."

Jungkook kisses your cheek, your nose, your temple. "You've always been worthy. And I'm proud of you for taking care of yourself. I'll support you through it all."

Your eyes sting with a combination of emotions. You lean into him, your voice coming out smaller, softer. "I want to be someone who's capable of loving you the way you deserve."

He presses a kiss to your lips, his arms tightening around you. "You already are that person, baby. You always were. You just had to believe it."

You nod, a small, shaky exhale falling from your lips. "I do now."

There's a long pause. You feel his fingers still against your back. He shifts slightly beneath you, as if something's weighing on him.

"There's actually something I want to tell you too," he murmurs slowly, his tone sounding rather nervous. "Because I promised myself I'd never lie to you, not ever."

You tilt your head slightly, your heart giving a cautious thump. "Okay."

He takes a deep breath, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. "One night...a little while ago...Taehyung dragged me to a bar. I was…not in a good place."

You nod slowly. "Okay...? Go on."

Jungkook swallows thickly, hesitating. "Hana was there. And...we, uhm...we kissed."

Your breath stills.

His grip on you tightens ever so slightly. "I was drunk. And really...really sad. She kissed me and I kissed her back. It was for, like, a second. I wanted to feel anything that wasn't…the feeling of losing you."

Your chest tightens, but you remain silent, letting him finish.

"I stopped it," he says quickly, urgently. "It got...heated for a second, and then I realized how wrong it felt. I told her I loved you, that I wasn't going to use her to forget about you because I didn't want to forget about you. I could never, I swear."

You nod slowly, absorbing it, letting it settle.

His voice cracks slightly, his nerves peeking through. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I hate that it did, but I promised myself that if I ever got you back, I'd tell you everything. I don't want to start over with anything hidden between us."

There's a long pause, the air in the room feeling tense.

And then you sigh softly, reaching up to cup his jaw in your hand. "Thank you for telling me."

He blinks, clearly not expecting that response. "You're not…mad?"

You shake your head. "I mean...I can't lie, it hurts a little, yeah...but I get it. I pushed you away. I left you with nothing. You don't owe me perfection, Jungkook. All I ask for is honesty and you gave me that. That's more than Sunghoon ever gave me. You chose me, and that's what I'm holding onto."

Relief floods his whole body, and he leans in to kiss you softly, gratefully.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips. "So much it makes my chest hurt sometimes."

You kiss him back, cradling his cheek in your hand. "I love you too. Thank you for choosing me. And I don't mean choosing me over Hana. I mean...thank you for choosing me...in general, just me, for who I am and all the shit I come with..."

His expression softens, gently flipping you onto your back, hovering above you, his hair falling into his eyes as he leans in.

"I'll always choose you," he whispers, kissing your cheek.

"Even on your worst days." A kiss to your jaw.

"Even when you try to push me away." A kiss just below your ear.

"Even if you eat the last slice of pizza and deny it."

You burst out laughing. "Oh, so that's your love language? Eternal devotion, but with conditions, huh?"

"I never said eternal," he scoffs, feigning seriousness. "My letters said I'd love you for at least fifty years, and then I'll reassess based on your behaviour."

Your mouth drops open in mock offense. "Fifty? That's it?"

He grins and nuzzles his face into your neck, chuckling softly against your skin. "Okay, okay. Maybe fifty-one. Maybe."

You giggle, tilting your head back as he kisses a warm trail down your throat.

"But seriously," you murmur, your eyes searching his. "Those letters…they broke me...in the best way. You wrote about things I didn't even realize you remembered. Like the cardigan I lost in the library."

"The blue one with the frayed cuff," he says instantly. "You said it felt like a hug."

Your throat tightens. "How do you remember all that?"

He kisses your nose, your cheeks, your lips. "Because I loved you for four years, baby. I memorized you."

You pull him down into another kiss, slower this time, more intentional.

You break the kiss with a soft giggle, as if realizing something. "You wrote a three-page letter about my eyes."

He groans, rolling onto his back and covering his face with his hand. "I was down bad. Shush."

You're full-on laughing now, your cheeks sore from how hard you're smiling. You roll onto your side to face him, leaning up on your elbow.

"And the one where you wrote 'Sometimes I pretend to forget stuff just so you'll explain it to me and look at me all proud when I understand'?"

Jungkook grabs a pillow and covers his face completely. "Okay. That's enough. This is character assassination."

You peel the pillow away, still smiling, and cup his face. "No, baby. This is love. And I'm keeping those letters forever, so get used to the emotional blackmail."

He laughs through the embarrassment, his cheeks burning but his eyes are so full of affection and admiration. "As long as you're staying, you can blackmail me all you want."

He rolls onto his side so you're facing each other, your noses almost touching, your smiles matching, both of you curling inward like two magnets finally allowed to rest.

"I feel like I can finally breathe again," you whisper.

"Me too." He presses his lips to your temple. "And this time, I'm not letting anything get in the way."

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, his heartbeat echoing against your chest.

There's still healing to do. There's still work to be done, but you'll do it together. And for now, that's more than enough.

The world is quiet outside, and for once, both your head and your heart match it.

You wake up slowly, sleep-drunk and tangled in warmth, your legs tangled lazily with Jungkook's under the warm covers. His arm is heavy across your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily behind you, and you feel the soft brush of his breath at the nape of your neck.

Neither of you talk at first. There's no need. You're both wrapped in the kind of silence that only comes after a storm, the peaceful kind, the kind that says 'we made it'.

Eventually, you feel him shift slightly behind you. A soft kiss lands on your shoulder, then another.

"Still here," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, his lips brushing over your bare skin. "Was worried I dreamed the whole thing."

You smile to yourself, your eyes still closed. "If this is a dream, don't wake me up."

He chuckles lowly, curling in closer until his nose nuzzles behind your ear. "Don't tempt me. I'll keep you here forever."

You stretch slowly, turning in his arms until you're facing him. His hair is a mess, his eyes are puffy with sleep, and there's a tiny crease on his cheek from the pillow. He's devastatingly handsome, and yet, utterly adorable.

You're so in love. You can admit that out loud now and know that it's not scary.

"You drool a little," you whisper, brushing a finger under the corner of his mouth.

He furrows his eyebrows, his lips puffing out into the faintest pout. "I do not."

"You do," you grin.

He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him so that you end up sprawled half on top of him, legs tangled and bare skin pressed to bare skin. "Fine," he sighs. "But you love me so you'll overlook it, right?"

You smile, rubbing your hand up and down along his chest. "Mm. I do."

He catches your hand, bringing it to his lips, kisses it softly. Then again. And again. His voice softens. "Still can't believe I get to wake up like this. With you."

Your smile melts into something softer, more vulnerable. "It feels different, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." His fingers trail along your arm, his nails lightly tickling your skin. "Like everything finally fell into place."

"It's crazy that Tae kinda made this happen. I mean, you confessed and I was a dick about it but if he didn't give me those letters, I wouldn't have known how sincere you really were."

"I owe him," he scoffs. "Remind me to thank him for completely violating my privacy and saving my entire life in the same breath."

You grin, your fingers dancing lazily over his chest. "He knew what he was doing. He always knows."

"That cheeky bastard," Jungkook murmurs affectionately. "I'll call him later. Tell him he's officially off the hook for every embarrassing story he's ever told about me on drunken nights out."

"Even the one about you bending over and your pants ripping mid-lecture?" you chuckle.

Jungkook groans. "Especially that one."

You laugh again, melting deeper into his embrace. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the warm skin there. "So…what now?"

He hums thoughtfully, eyes fluttering shut. "We enjoy the holidays. We get snowed in together. We raise Miso and Bam together, which might be a challenge at first but they'll grow to love each other. I make you breakfast in bed every morning. Bam learns how to make coffee."

You laugh, your voice muffled against his skin. "Very realistic plan, professor."

He lifts his head just enough to kiss your temple. "Okay, but really?" He looks up at you as you pull away. "I want to take you on a date."

Your heart flutters. "A date?"

He nods. "A real one. Not just grocery shopping or late-night convenience store runs. I mean...dressed up, picked up, nervous butterflies, 'walk you to your front door and kiss you goodnight' type of date."

You pretend to think about it for a moment. "When?"

"Next Friday," he says confidently. "Dinner. Just you and me. Somewhere special. Our official first date."

You bite your bottom lip, smiling so hard it hurts. "That sounds…kinda perfect."

Jungkook grins. "Good, because I plan on wining and dining you and then making you cum so hard that you-"

You cut him off with a laugh, playfully pinching him. "Jungkook!"

"What? I'm being romantic!" he laughs, warm and hearty and carefree. "I think my girlfriend deserves both a five-star meal and a few really good orgasms in one night."

Your face burns red as you bury it in his chest. "We're not calling me your girlfriend yet," you mumble, slowly looking up at his face.

He leans in, his mouth ghosting over yours. "Says who?"

You blink up at him, lips brushing, breath mingling. "Says me. Just for now, until after the first date."

He grins wickedly. "Then I guess I'll just have to make sure it's the best first date of your life."

You kiss him again, slowly, sensually, your tongue licking into his parted lips. He tastes good in the morning. He's not as minty fresh as he normally is, but it's that 'I like kissing you even if you didn't brush your teeth yet because I'm so utterly in love with you' type of taste.

Your lips don't part as you swing a leg over his hips, straddling him, your hands on either side of his head on the pillow. The room is chilly but the look in his eyes and the feeling of his semi-hard cock nestled between your legs warms you from the inside out.

You sit up straight, revealing your bare breasts to him, your messy hair falling down your shoulders and back.

His hands rest at your hips, touching your skin with tenderness and reverence, looking at you like he's seeing the sun rise for the first time.

"You're stunning," he whispers, almost like he still can't believe he gets to have you like this. "You look like an angel."

You feel heat bloom across your cheeks. "An angel?" you tease, raising your eyebrows at the comparison.

He nods, his jaw clenched, his fingers digging into the flesh on your hips. "The kind that...ruins men..."

You let out a breathless laugh, your head tilting back, exposing more of your neck to him. Before you can respond, his hands slide up your sides, large and warm and steady, until they cup your breasts with delicate care.

"They're so perfect," he sighs, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden to stiff peaks.

You smile as he sits up just slightly, leaning back on his hands as he presses open-mouthed kisses over the soft curve of one breast, then the other. His mouth is warm and tender and adoring, and it makes you arch into him without even thinking.

He groans softly, one hand splaying over your back, drawing you even closer. "How do you expect me to survive this?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes hazy. "You're doing just fine, baby."

His mouth is greedy as it worships your breasts, licking and sucking your nipples in all the ways he knows you like, his chest tight and his breathing deep as he feels his cock grow harder between your legs.

He finally pulls away and slowly lifts his head to press soft kisses up your neck, his voice deep and rough when he speaks.

"Best tits in the world," he mutters, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

You chuckle softly, gently tugging on his soft strands of hair, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "Best in the whole world?" you tease, your nipples glistening with his saliva.

"Mhm," he smiles, leaning back against the headboard, his fingers pinching your nipples, his tongue running along his bottom lip. "Gorgeous."

"You're gorgeous," you whisper, leaning in to press your lips to his. "You don't even realize how gorgeous you are, Kook," you whisper, trailing soft kisses down to his neck.

He lets out a quiet, breathy little laugh, his eyes half closed as he feels your lips on his skin.

"You're ridiculous," he grins, his hands slipping under the covers to cup your ass.

"I'm serious, Jungkook," you murmur softly, kissing over his cheeks, the little mole under his mouth, the tip of his nose and each eyelid.

"I could spend hours writing love letters about how beautiful a man you are," you whisper against his skin, pouring all of your love and affection into your kisses.

He smiles lazily, his hand giving your asscheek a firm little tap. "Are you making fun of me for my love letters?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head, your lips trailing down his jaw, your hips sensually grinding down on him. His cock slots perfectly between your pussy lips, feeling thick and ready.

"They were sweet. Made me cry a few times. I might write you some of my own someday."

His stomach clenches, inhaling sharply through his nose, his brows furrowing at the feeling of your wet heat gliding along his cock, your clit brushing against the head with every tantalising drag of your hips. The friction feels delicious, your bare skin soft and warm against his.

"Yeah?"

You nod, slowly reaching between your legs to align his tip with your entrance. "Yeah...later. Wanna make love first."

His eyes shine with excitement, his hips aching to lift up into you. "Fuck. Please."

You slowly sink down on him, your warm inner walls enveloping him whole. You both moan when you reach the base of his length, his fingers digging into your hips as you take a quick moment to adjust.

"Feel good?" you breathe, watching his eyes roll back in his head.

"Fuuuck," he groans, his chest heaving with labored breaths, his head dropping back against the headboard, his nails digging into your skin.

"Move, baby...please. I need you to move," he mutters through gritted teeth.

You roll your hips in a fluid motion, riding him nice and slow, just how he likes it in the morning.

"Fuck, you feel good," you moan, working up a steady pace, resting your hands at the back of his neck.

He lets out a sharp, shaky moan, his lips parting in ecstasy.

"Y-yeah, just like that," he breathes, his hands sliding up your back to your neck, pulling you towards him. "Kiss me, baby."

You lean in to kiss him, sliding your tongue into his mouth, tasting the man you love. You moan into his mouth as you ride him faster, your walls fluttering around his shaft, squeezing him like a vice.

"Turn around for me...get on your hands and knees..." he mutters into the kiss, his voice thick with arousal, his strong hands gripping your hips to slow them down.

A jolt of excitement shoots through you, obeying without a second thought.

You do as he says and get on your hands and knees, your ass up in the air.

"Like that?" you tease, looking over you shoulder as you shake your ass for him, knowing how much he loves to see it jiggle.

He lets out a soft groan, his eyes running over your ass, his hand pumping his wet cock, your slick coating his skin.

"Yes, just like that, my love," he scoffs, his hands running over your ass, gently squeezing, his gaze growing even darker. He sits up on his knees behind you so he can get himself aligned with your dripping entrance, his hands trained firmly on your ass as he thrusts into you from behind.

You press your face into the mattress as he fucks into you from the back, your hands gripping the sheets.

You moan desperately, feeling him so much deeper like this, your eyes rolling back in your head as he hits that sweet spot over and over again.

"Ohhh f-fuck, baby," you whimper, your toes curling, your head feeling fuzzy, feeling his presence surround you.

He looks down at your ass, watching the fatty flesh shake with every thrust of his hips, the little puckered rim winking at him, making his cock twitch.

"Goddamn, baby," he groans, landing a hard smack to your right asscheek, leaving a red handprint. "So fucking sexy."

He leans forward and drapes himself over your back, one arm wrapped around your waist as he hovers his mouth next to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, his voice deep and husky in your ear.

"Tell me you love me," he mutters roughly, thrusting harder, his pelvis slapping against your ass.

You can barely focus on anything other than the pleasure he's giving you, your body feeling like it's on fire.

"I...I love you, J-Jungkook," you moan pathetically, sounding desperate and needy for him.

"Say it again..." he mutters, his lips pressed to your neck, his thrusts growing rougher.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you whine, feeling him thrust faster, deeper, harder. "I love you, baby..."

"That's my good girl. I love you so much," he whispers, his free hand sliding up your spine and grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling it back and exposing your neck, his lips soft against your skin, feeling your pussy pulse around him.

"Yes...yes, baby...!" you moan, your voice growing breathless as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping skin bouncing off of the walls of his bedroom.

His pace gets a little messy, a little sloppy, and you start to feel your high rapidly approaching. He's very rarely rough like this, and when he is, it does magically things to your body. The passion overtakes both of you, getting lost in the sensation of his thick cock drilling into you.

"Oh my god, baby...l'm gonna cum s-so hard," you gasp, gripping the sheets as the pressure builds in your lower stomach, threatening to unravel.

"That's it, baby," he mutters breathlessly. "Cum for me, ___," he growls, pulling your hair harder for him to bring his lips down to the side of your neck, sucking and nipping at your flesh.

Your body tenses up as the coil within you unravels, letting out an airy whine, your muscles trembling underneath him.

He quickly pulls out of your throbbing pussy, giving his cock a few quick tugs before cumming all over your ass, his stomach muscles flexing and relaxing repeatedly, his head thrown back, his eyes screwed tightly shut. His moans sound like something out of a porno as he paints your skin with his release.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at his masterpiece with a proud grin before plopping down next to you on the mattress, both of you panting as you catch your breath, your bodies glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

He turns to you and wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, grinning innocently. "Have I mentioned I love you?"

"Once or twice, yeah," you chuckle weakly, slowly coming back down to earth. You lay flat on your stomach, the side of your face smooshed against the bed.

You feel his hand trail from your waist to your ass, lazily rubbing his cum into your skin.

"Kook, what are you doing?"

"I'm just rubbing it in. It's like lotion," he murmurs, gently squeezing your ass cheek in his hand.

"It's good for your skin..." he adds with a grin, his eyes sparkling with that playful, mischievous glimmer they get when he's in the mood to tease you.

"Good for my skin?" you laugh, leaning up on your elbows. "You're an idiot."

He grins, letting out a breathy little laugh, leaning in to place a couple of soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder.

"Just let me rub it in for you," he repeats softly, continuing to massage his cum into the skin of your ass.

Eventually, you manage to peel yourselves out of bed. Jungkook groans in protest, but you tug on his hand and lead him into the bathroom with a teasing, "Come on, loverboy. We smell like sex and I have your cum all over me."

The bathroom is cold, the tiles cool beneath your feet. You turn on the shower and step inside together, the steam quickly wrapping around you both like a comforting hug.

It's not rushed. It's not even particularly sexy. It's intimate and raw and unfiltered.

He lathers shampoo into your hair, careful and slow, his fingers massaging your scalp until you're practically melting under his touch. You rinse off, giggling when the water drips down your face, and you help him wash his hair in return, watching the suds slide over his firm muscles.

He kisses your shoulder when you reach for the body wash, and you return the favor when he turns to rinse, your lips pressing over the back of his neck, over the curve of his spine. Neither of you say much. You don't need to.

Once you're clean and warm and thoroughly pruned, he hands you a towel and wraps one around his waist. You smile at his damp hair sticking up in all directions, and he playfully shakes his head to flick water at you in return.

The two of you move through a shared routine like it's the most natural thing in the world. You brush your teeth side by side at the sink, giggling like teenagers. Jungkook leans over and kisses your foamy mouth mid-brush, just to make you squeal and shove him away.

When you rinse your mouth and reach for the hairbrush, he kisses your cheek and disappears into the bedroom to get something to wear.

You stand at the mirror, brushing out your damp hair and massaging moisturizer into your face, while the distant sound of kitchen cabinets opening and Bam's excited barking fills the house.

He talks to Bam like a child, "Yes, I know it's breakfast time. You've mentioned it seventeen times in thirty seconds," and the clatter of dog food into the bowl is oddly comforting.

You smile to yourself, your eyes trained on your reflection. Your skin is glowing. Your lips are kiss-swollen. Your heart feels full.

There's something so deeply romantic about all of this. Not just the physical intimacy, not just the sex, but the normalcy of it. The routine. The quiet. The way the spare toothbrush, which now belongs to you, sits beside his, the sound of his voice floating in from the kitchen, the coffee starting to brew.

This is what you've always wanted. Not grand declarations or cinematic gestures. Just this. The everyday softness of being loved.

The smell hits you first, something buttery and warm and just a little sweet wafting from the kitchen, curling into the hallway like a ribbon. You step out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your body, your hair still slightly damp.

The house is quiet except for the low hum of Jungkook's Bluetooth speaker playing in the kitchen and the sound of Bam's paws clicking excitedly on the hardwood floor.

You put on the oversized sweater you find in Jungkook's closet. It hangs off your frame ridiculously, the sleeves almost swallowing your hands completely, but it's so warm and soft and it smells like him. You pair it with a clean pair of his boxers because your panties are still ruined after last night. It's a look that definitely says 'I'm someone's girl now', and you smile at the thought as you pad barefoot down the hallway.

"Bam," you call gently, and the Doberman immediately runs over to you, his tail wagging like crazy. He nuzzles his head against your thighs, and you scratch behind his ears with a soft laugh.

"Good morning to you too, handsome."

"He's only been asking where you are for the past ten minutes," Jungkook jokes from his spot at the stove.

He looks like the picture of domesticity in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends, his bicep flexing subtly each time he flips something in the pan.

You hop up onto the counter, legs swinging as you watch him.

"What's on the menu this morning, Chef?"

"Pancakes," he smiles down at the pan. "With syrup and strawberries. Also eggs and bacon. You know, for balance."

You hum in approval. "Look at you. A man of muscles and meal prep."

He chuckles and leans in to peck your lips before dumping the pancakes into a plate, moving onto the eggs.

Bam, with his tail wagging excitedly, walks over and sits before you like a good dog, clearly hoping for a piece of bacon to fall from the heavens.

You reach over to the plate already filled with fried bacon and carefully peel off an extra crispy piece, holding it out to Bam with a playful whisper.

"Don't tell your dad."

Bam gently takes it from your hand, his tail thumping against the floor as he enjoys his little treat.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, his eyebrow raised. "Are you corrupting my son?"

"He said he was hungry," you shrug innocently, popping the last bite of the bacon into your mouth. "Plus, he used his puppy dog eyes on me."

Jungkook snorts, scrambling the eggs and adding salt and pepper. "Must have learnt that trick from you."

You hop off the counter while he plates the food, and the two of you sit down to eat, knees brushing beneath the kitchen table. For a moment, you both just eat silently, occasionally glancing at each other with small, almost shy smiles.

It's blissful.

Quiet, but not awkward. Comfortable, not rushed.

Jungkook wipes a bit of sweet syrup from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, quickly popping it into his mouth. "You're really staying calm about this whole thing. The old ___ would have laughed in my face if I made love to her and then cooked her breakfast afterwards."

You chuckle, picking a strawberry off of his plate and taking a bite. "What can I say? I've matured."

"Mmm. And the therapy." He nods, resting his elbow on the table with his chin in the palm of his hand. "You're emotionally stable now, huh?"

You chuckle. "Mostly."

He leans in and kisses your cheek. "I like you in every version."

You set your fork down in your plate, letting a moment of silence pass before you speak again, more softly this time. "So…you're really okay after everything that happened?"

Jungkook meets your gaze, thinking it over.

"I'm not okay with the fact that you were hurt like that to make you cope the way you did," he sighs. "But I am okay that we took the time we needed. And I'm okay because you're here now."

You look down, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "It still kinda scares me. How easily I shut down. How quickly I let that fear control me."

"Hey." He nudges your foot under the table. "You're working on it. That's all anyone can ask. And now, when that happens again, which it might because healing isn't linear, I'll be right there. I won't let you carry it alone."

Your eyes sting a little, but not with sadness. Just...relief.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For loving me even when it was difficult."

Jungkook leans across the table and takes your hand in his, his thumb stroking over your knuckles.

"I never stopped," he murmurs softly. "Even when I thought I should have. You were still it for me."

Then, just to lighten the air a little, you tease, "Well...you did almost let Hana become your coping mechanism."

He groans and drops his head to rest his forehead against the table. "Baby, please, don't remind me."

"But you kissed her," you shrug teasingly.

"It was barely a kiss," he scoffs, sitting up straight.

You raise an eyebrow. "You said it got heated."

"I was vulnerable! She ambushed me by the back alley of the bar like some deranged rom-com villain."

You try to keep a straight face. "That sounds romantic. What stopped you? The smell of garbage coming from the bins?"

He glares at you but there is zero heat in his eyes. "You, obviously. I kept seeing your face in my head and realized she could never be you. Not even close."

That shuts you up for a second.

Your playful grin fades into something softer, your eyes dipping down to your plate before finding his again. "Good...because I don't think I could've handled seeing you move on like that. Even if I told myself it was for the best."

Jungkook leans in closer, resting his elbows on the table, his voice low. "I didn't want to move on. That was the point. I was drunk and lonely and stupid, but I wasn't trying to forget you. I just wanted to stop hurting."

You nod slowly, his words hitting you in the chest. "Yeah. I get that."

He reaches for your hand again, threading his fingers through yours. "But I'd rather hurt with you than pretend I'm okay without you."

You let out a shaky exhale, giving his hand a squeeze. "You won't have to do either anymore."

His smile is soft and crooked and so full of affection. "Promise?"

You nod, pulling him closer by the back of his neck with your free hand, your nose brushing against his. "I promise," you whisper, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss.

You kiss him once. Then again. Then again, this time with a lazy little sigh against his mouth.

"I thought we were finishing breakfast," Jungkook mumbles between kisses, his lips curving into a smile.

"We are," you whisper, tugging him closer by the back of his neck. "I just needed a little dessert first."

He groans into your mouth, grinning like a lovesick fool when he finally pulls back. "You're evil."

You both finish the last of your breakfast, soaking in the winter sun that shines in through the frosted kitchen windows.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, at least temporarily, and reality sets in when you glance at the clock on the wall, letting out a sigh.

"I should probably get going."

Jungkook blinks, like the words take a second to register. "Already?"

You nod, offering him an apologetic smile. "Yeah. I need to go check on Miso. I don't want her thinking I abandoned her for a man."

He grins. "Right. She's the jealous type, huh?"

"Very," you scoff, knowing your furry baby is probably plotting her revenge for not getting her breakfast yet.

"Can I borrow some sweats? My jeans are in the laundry hamper."

"Of course," he smiles. "Check in the bottom drawer."

You make your way to his bedroom, wearing his oversized sweater and a flush on your cheeks. You tug open the bottom drawer of his dresser and grab a pair of grey sweatpants, one that's extra soft and worn-in.

When you turn around, he's there, leaning against the bedroom doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest, watching you with the softest smile.

"You wanna watch me change?" you tease, your eyebrow raised.

His lips twitch. "Just admiring my girl."

You roll your eyes and try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at being called his girl as you slip into the sweatpants. They're big on you. You cuff the ankles and tie the drawstring tight to keep them from slipping, and still, you look like you're drowning in him.

"You wear my clothes way too well," he mutters under his breath.

You shoot him a grin as you put your shoes on and walk past him, brushing your shoulder against his arm on your way to the front door. "Don't compliment me too much, I won't wanna leave," you chuckle.

"Then don't," he scoffs under his breath as he follows you down the hall, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants. As you reach for the doorknob, you feel it, his fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you back just before you can open it.

His voice is soft, his eyes even softer. "Wait."

Your chest tightens. "Yeah?"

"I just…" He moves closer. "Can we pause time? Just for a second? I'm not ready to let you go yet."

Your heart squeezes. "I'm coming back, baby. I'll see you on Friday."

"I know. But that's so far from now."

You smile up at him, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You gonna miss me?"

"I already do," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.

It starts soft, just a brush of lips, a promise in the making. But it lingers. One kiss turns into another, his hands cupping your face, his nose nudging yours as his teeth tug at your bottom lip, his tongue moving against yours in a languid rhythm.

When you finally part, breathless and smiling, he presses his forehead to yours.

"Friday night," he reminds you. "I'm picking you up. Real date. No takeout or Netflix."

You grin. "I'll wear something nice."

"You always do." He brushes his lips against your cheek, trailing his hands down to grab ahold of yours, your fingers intertwining. "Even when it's my clothes that are far too big."

You shake your head, giggling softly, before you lean in to press one last kiss to his lips. "I love you, Jeon Jungkook."

"I love you more," he whispers, reluctantly letting go of your hands and stepping back to open the door for you. "Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get home. And tell Miso I said hi."

You roll your eyes with a fond smile. "She probably won't care."

"Tell her anyway."

You take one last look at him before stepping outside, snowflakes gently floating in the air around you. He stands in the doorway, bare-chested and soft-eyed, completely smitten.

You don't even mind the cold air or the snowflakes brushing along your cheeks. His clothes are warm, but it's his affection that burns fiercely beneath your skin. And as you leave, with rosy cheeks and a racing heart, snowflakes catching in your hair and melting on your lashes, you realize something simple and sure:

This is how love begins again. Not with loud fireworks and a spectacle, but with the quiet certainty of someone waiting at the door for your return. With borrowed sweatpants and soft goodbyes, with the warmth of a kiss that lingers longer than it should, and the promise of a date that already feels like forever. It begins in the hush of winter air, in the way your heart aches less now, and in the way his love doesn't ask for anything but your presence.

As you drive away with snow settling on your windshield and his scent still clinging to your skin, you know this is the start of something worth staying for.

< Part 7 || Part 9 >

#jungkook fic

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alexiajjk · 14 days ago

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i cant believe i’m hearing their giggles again 😭💗 i love you so much my jikook you have no idea

The shyness. The giggles. The HAPPINESS. My boys are BACKKKKK

#jungkook #jimin #jikook

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alexiajjk · 15 days ago

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my taejoon is back 💗💗💗

250610 - namjoon and taehyung's weverse live thumbnail

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alexiajjk · 17 days ago

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colour me in: photograph | jjk (m)

Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: work-related stuff, new gallery/art/fair stuff, stress and feeling overwhelmed, death of a pet, tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, car sex!! a cmi first!!, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane, lots of fingering, bit of overstimulation, (multiple) intense orgasms, kissing, manhandling, smacks on pussy/ass, sum hard sex, they're half clothed, playing with his bawlls; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: 19.4k ➳ a/n: happy bts month and 3rd anniversary to cmi! get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') i know it's been quite long, but i hope you guys are still around. so as always, come and talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: photograph by ed sheeran | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

“Jungkook?”

“Babe?”

“Jungkook,” you repeat solemnly, lifting yourself off the far end of the mattress. “I hate surprises.”

There’s light static in the foot previously tucked under your bottom, tingling when you limp to his distracted, pajama-clad self. He’s immersed in the sketchbook you gifted him for his birthday, embellishing yet another page but never showing you what you’ve been begging for.

Mid-stroke, he chuckles, side-eyeing you; you’re still sulking from the conversation before. “Nice try, munchkin. No lies in this household.” Because you love surprises and that butthead knows. “Now sit your ass back down. Wait a bit more. If you’re a good girl.”

You pout again. Leaning in, you press your fingers into where his dimples usually emerge, moving his face back and forth until he whines, and tell him, “You’re a mean man, you know?”

“Stop,” he protests, grabbing your hand when your fingers dig in and removes it from his slightly crimson cheeks. “Learned it from you, apparently.”

“Ah… how fucking dare.”

Your joke slips past him as he pats your thigh twice and places the sketchbook on your pillow. You move aside for him to jump off the bed; the day has passed languidly for most of its part, but Jungkook doesn’t know laziness when it comes to hunger.

It’s snack time anyway — a possibly unhealthy comfort after the diligent workout sessions he powered through this week. But they say couples who munch together stay together, and you’re all for increasing your odds.

“Okay, sushi or dumplings?” he asks, fetching the phone he left on the work desk earlier. “Or both?”

You’re more indecisive than him. Wrong person to ask. “Either is fine. Both reduce stress.”

“Why? Are you stressed?”

“I mean… it’s why people snack sometimes, no?”

“You didn’t deny it, though. What’s up?”

You emit a deep breath, combining anxiety about life and relief about being able to talk about it. As he orders whatever he’s craving, you tell him, “Work’s just been chaotic, which wouldn’t be news if I wasn’t the one responsible for fixing it all.”

You shake your head a little, click your tongue and then continue, “I mean, it’s not that anything needs to be fixed, but with the season changing, the collection does, too… and… of course we need to advertise every single sock and glove.”

There is no need to repeat the current situation to him; perhaps you just need to spell it out again, to torture yourself or maybe, to raise your own awareness of how important this thing is.

So of course he’s calm and reassuring when he says, “But you were so excited about it?”

“I still am. Just nervous as hell, too, because I’ve never taken the lead before, really.”

“No? You did do a hell of a job at Charmante, though.”

You smile weakly, hiding the little sigh and admit, “Yes, but those were never my projects alone. Back when I started here at Novaura and they were doing the autumn launch, I was still just learning and watching. It looked so difficult then, too.”

“Only because autumn to winter fashion is such a jump. Listen,” his eyes lift, the phone thrown back on the bed and a moment later, himself as well. His hand lands on yours, rubbing energetically. “It just means they trust you!”

“Yeahh,” you drag the word, and then nod, “yeah, no, sure. Like, so many people do that all over the world and they manage, so I should be fine.” Jungkook hums. “As long as the models don’t leave us hanging — one of them still hasn’t answered.”

You pause for dramatic effect, an expression of your gathered frustration and fear of failure. But when you look at him, eyes filled with support but a slight distraction in the far back, you digress, “But you have your own stress to deal with right now.”

His eyes flit to the ground and he presses his lips to a line as if to disagree, and then actually does, “I don’t know if I’d call it stress. Just nervous, like you. First big thing for me, too.”

So was the exhibition months ago, and he mastered it so easily. But there are a dozen reasons he’d rather forget about these long nights, no matter how victorious he came out of them.

Despite the exposure he received, he doesn’t talk about it, except once, shortly after you found each other again. Poured how it still sometimes hurt to think about the dread that so overshadowed his excitement, bringing to light every other insecurity he’s ever lived with, too.

But. A healthy number of amazing results followed all that anguish — like, the guy scouting him, or you coming to the exhibition after all.

Okay. Anyway. Your turn to offer some peaceful words before any of you can enable any approaching nightmares of everything that can go wrong.

“You know,” you start, “I could easily give you my very personal and totally unbiased opinion if you let me see.”

You lower your head to throw an ominous through-the-lashes glance, and you probably look like an idiot enough to make him laugh like this. But then, all earnestly, he explains, “No. If I’m able to land this job, I will show you something far bigger. And—”

He stares up to the ceiling, forming an imaginary rainbow with his hands, all theatrical. “And the stuff you want to actually see is part of what will be one day.”

“Dramatic poetry.”

He shrugs. “I might’ve flicked through your anthologies.” A similar pat as before follows on the back of your hand and he rushes to the table, returning with his turned on laptop. “But know what? I can show you a few of these at least.”

The display lights up bright once he’s typed in his password, directly offering a look at the folder containing the pictures he took on your vacation. Random ones, some of them already edited — he likes doing this.

There’s crystal clear water and the horizon behind it; or random alleys. Very artsy stuff, but carrying an obvious signature note. And the edits add to the specific tone that is so easily distinguished from what other people create.

“Does the guy want photographs, too?” you ask, scooching closer.

“Just for the portfolio. I don’t need to exhibit any just yet… maybe someday.”

As he opens a picture the screen froze on before he shut the laptop, you exclaim, “Oh, this was right after the slippery soccer game! When we were having dinner at this fancy hotel restaurant.”

“Right,” he zooms in, dragging the mouse across faces, “you didn’t like the dessert there.”

“But I liked the main course,” you tell him with a slight lift of your shoulder, watching until your face jumps into your eyes, “look at me here. I fucking hate you for catching this moment of all.”

Your expressions are contorted, left cheek filled with a bite of the tart. You aren’t focused on the camera, not posing or smiling like the rest is; entirely distracted by the attack on your tastebuds.

“Oh, I love myself for it,” Jungkook counters, zooming further into your knitted eyebrows. You hit his shoulder a little, and he fakes a devastated exclaim, “Owh. Bully.”

“I look like the grapes offended me and my ancestors.”

“Probably did.”

“Probably.”

You laugh, basking in the post-vacation glow, although missing the moments the pictures are refreshing in your mind. You take over the keyboard to move between them, dwelling on one or returning to another when you recall a story to it.

Jungkook, with the computer on his lap, leans back, listens to your tales and adds his own. Talking about the conversations held before, during and after all these many seconds were captured.

And at some point, as time passes and the delivery service rings the bell, you finally prepare to move from one activity to the next; Jungkook gets up to open the door.

But just before disappearing, uncaring of who awaits, he turns around again, one look thrown down to where you sit so calmly. Looking like the same girl chomping through her lunch in the empty skatepark, legs dangling underneath the summer sun as he teased her out of her mind next to her.

You have changed — but you haven’t. You look happier, at least.

If he could, he’d stare at the glow a little longer.

But instead, he remembers the food waiting outside and with it the certainly impatient supplier, and he leans into you slowly. Digs two fingers into your cheeks, much softer than you did to him before, and closes the space between your mouths.

The kiss is a mere peck, but feathery and sweet, finished in a moment. But it’s delightful, how giddy you still look when you ask, “What was that for?”

His shoulders rise again to a shrug, thumb brushing along your skin. And then, he backs away and leaves with a last statement that is so simple that it really shouldn’t stir your stomach the way it does— “Nothing at all. Could just do it all day.”

Jungkook looks around the dimly lit hall.

Very natural how the gallery collector chose an artistic museum-café for the first meet-up, surrounded by tiny shops offering bookmarks and puzzles of popular pieces.

Of course, the mere reason for this was the collector’s professional visit before Jungkook arrived, coinciding with this meeting only because the guy’s calendar was — as he claimed — already filled to the brim.

Fine by Jungkook. If circumstances offered a way to get into one of his favourite museums for free, just because the man vis-à-vis allowed him in, he wasn’t going to say no.

And the café is of the extraordinary sort — not at the end of the exhibition, behind some souvenir shop, right next to the exit. It’s situated in the middle of the first floor, surrounded by a couple entrances that lead to different eras of painted magic.

The exhibitions are showcased in rooms as brightly lit as the one Jungkook presented his own work in, but the hall housing the café-restaurant in the middle resembles a castle. Lights warm as candles, ceilings high, walls an art of their own.

And amidst all the wonder, there’s him, nervous and fumbling as the gallery collector, Mr. Paik, takes in each page of the portfolio with eagle eyes. Jungkook would run if he could, come back when the man has formed a verdict.

But instead, Jungkook slurps his flat white and waits, eyes bigger than ever as he stares through his growing bangs. And then, Paik finally nods a bit, forefinger tapping at a random spot on the page before he says, entirely unrelated, “You have some good connections, don’t you?”

“I— uh,” Jungkook sits up, uprighting his torso, naming the one person Paik already knows of, “I have Kim Namjoon.”

“Okay. Really, he is more than enough, too.” He shuts the portfolio, only to open it again to one of the first works. “You do have exceptional talent and are in good hands with Namjoon. A convenient combination if you ask me.”

“I think so, too. I have a lot to thank him for.”

“Mmhm, this is incredible. It takes people years sometimes to work their way into a gallery. And that without open calls or random submissions — I mean, possible, but rare.”

“I really am thankful, sir,” Jungkook says, voice a bit livelier. This is what he’s been wanting to hear all those years; it pumps a vast amount of energy into his soul. “Honestly. I can barely believe I was even part of a group exhibition, either.”

Paik laughs, multiple little crinkles of age collecting at the corners of his eyes. He puts a hand on the table, fingers brushing the saucer under his cup.

Then he asks, “Why’s that? Your awareness of detail is great. You can surely work your way up if you give your best, and people will definitely see how much you love doing this, too.”

“I am certainly intending to work hard. Thank you so much.”

A burden falls off Jungkook’s chest and lightens the space. Of course, this is just the beginning and the true trials are still ahead. But this is still a more than opportune way to start out; to find a footing in this area of work and then climb up to success.

The moment paired with the coffee leaves Jungkook hyped to the bone, but he attempts his best to remain composed. Not that he can hide much of his telling smile, and the man in front of him sees through him quickly.

He asks, “Excited, yes?”

Jungkook sighs in relief; his pupils are probably enlarged as hell. “I can’t even find the words. To tell you the truth, I was so anxious about this for so long. And I really want people to feel the same way you did just now. It has been a goal for the longest time.”

He’s probably rambling — so much to staying calm. But perhaps it’s just right, to show his humane side, to actually manifest into words all that his hands bring to paper. Artists are vulnerable; why not show all of it instead of stashing his heart?

“I will help as best as I can,” Paik says, and Jungkook half nods, half bows, ready to nearly tear up until the collector’s next words freeze him on his chair, “we could start out with an art fair. There’s one at the end of November, so in around a month? Not long before the gallery showing. Do you want to come?”

…What?

Let’s see…

That’s in nearly three weeks. No time left at all. Everything is happening so fast that it appears downright unbelievable, too good to be true — never for a second did Jungkook expect for opportunities to fall into his hands like this.

Insane. Insane. Insane.

“No?” Paik asks again, and Jungkook soon notices that he’s supposed to answer, that he hasn’t said or done anything yet, other than to ponder his luck in his head.

“D-do I want to—” he stammers, aware that his conversation partner is amusingly registering each of Jungkook’s joys.

“I mean, it’s not that easy. You’d have to present your stuff and create new things — if you want. And select pieces you could sell. The competition can be tough, but I wouldn’t be worried—”

Oh fuck.

Half his heart is thrilled about the chance; the other half dreads the moment, finding artworks he can give away. And if nobody purchases it? Or even fails to find their way to his booth? And can he do a lot in three weeks at all?

“You can also just come and look around, without being one of the showcasers, too!” Paik tries to comfort, but—

Isn’t this what Jungkook wants? To show the world pieces of his himself, what he loves, what he’s always done?

Wouldn’t it be thoroughly stupid to say no?

Paik tries again, giving Jungkook some space to think about it. He comments, “I’ll give you some time. But I suggested it because you bring exceptional talent to the table and I know I’m not the only one wanting you to grow quickly.”

“Yes… yes, I can barely wait either,” Jungkook starts, nervously laughing, “but is that even possible? Can I afford to rush it…?”

“Are you really rushing it, though, if you’re doing what you enjoy? Then again,” Paik pauses, thinks about it, “you’re not wrong. I wouldn’t make my hobby a chore. If you feel like it’s too stressful, you can take your time. I’m sure you can make it big either way, no matter when.”

“You are too kind, Mr. Paik.”

“Honest,” he corrects with a soft, likeable smile, “take it easy.”

“Yes. God, I’m just perplexed because—” Jungkook puffs out some breath, blinking. His nervously shaking hands curl into fists, thoughts all over the place. “I’ve always wanted this. My own studio and everything.”

“But it’s too much at once?”

“No… yes. I mean, I want this, but I just can’t believe my luck.”

“You underestimate yourself. You can reach your goals with ease.”

Jungkook offers a vibrant smile, mixed with a bit of concern but with elation, too. When you love something too much, the fear of losing it grows even bigger. But maybe he should focus on what’s in front of him; and right now, it’s a huge ass break just to happen.

“Okay. You know what — I will give it a try. Why not?” Jungkook says, coming way too close to cursing, too close to throwing in words of strong eagerness. “I can already think of so many things. A couple old pieces can be refined by then as well.”

“Remember that you can opt out anytime, I won’t mind. You still have the gallery showcase.” Paik leans forwards, hands folding on the table. “But Mr. Jeon… I wouldn’t worry too much. You are already at a level of ambition that often bears great results. Don’t let any of it falter.”

His words tattoo themselves into Jungkook’s hearts. Somehow, he reckons this is a memory that’ll stay carved in his mind, repeating even if he fails; on loop when he succeeds — many years after today, he’ll remember these joys.

Crazy.

Jungkook’s tense muscles calm as some ease and confidence wash into him, and with a heart full of aspiration and a mind filled with ideas, he says,

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once the high-reaching waves of delirium have ebbed down and Jungkook calms from soaring, he finds himself in smoggy hesitation. Or maybe, it’s not really that — more so growing portions of panic.

The more he thinks about it, the more his mind whirs. Yes, no doubt, he’s got half a dozen ideas already; he was certainly not lying about that. But — he’s not the only artist in the world. And he definitely won’t be the only or first one to attend the fair, or to be part of a gallery.

So much is at stake, so much to give. He has never considered failure an option; aside from you, art has always been the one thing he’s been sure about, the one skill he’s confided in and understood to the core.

But with all that hope and support comes fear, too, and Paik, while indescribably kind, has awoken pressure in Jungkook he had never put on himself before.

Hours later, as you meet him on your way back home, he doesn’t seem nervous to you just yet. You wait in front of the entrance of the building that holds Namjoon’s studio, car parked not too far. If you’d known he’d be rushing here even on his day off, you’d have told him to take the vehicle today.

Conveniently, you finished just a little earlier than he did, driving all the way to this corner of the town. It’s not particularly close to your work. But despite his retelling of the meet-up with the gallery guy today, you had an odd feeling about Jungkook.

He sounded enthusiastic first; then, different. Not necessarily worried, but his voice had changed and he was in a hurry, pushing the conversation to, “Later.”

“What’s up?” you ask the moment he finds you.

There’s ease in the kiss he presses to your cheek, melting relief in his doe-brown eyes. But you don’t know…

Given the news, you feel like he’s lacking the fitting glow.

“Nothing new since the afternoon,” he answers, light crooked smile as he finds your hand to hold, “what about you?”

You shake your head. “No, I mean. Are you okay?”

“Huh? Struck one of the biggest deals of my life. Is there any other way to feel?”

That’s it… considering the fact that this exact thing happened, you sure cannot hear the excited tremble that such an opportunity usually elicits. He isn’t properly looking at you either. Smiling and swinging your arms, yeah, but staring ahead and sighing, too.

“Tired,” Jungkook responds, a tell-tale answer to Jungkook-esque anxiety and scarily common in human conversations these days, “just really tired. There’s a lot to think about in the upcoming future.”

“Hmm, yes.”

You let the thought marinate, for a moment even browsing your brain for ideas you can deliver additionally to the ones he already has. And he’s distracted, too, walking the rest of the way to the car mostly in peaceful silence.

But when you get in, insisting on driving, especially after his admissions of exhaustion, you prod again, “You know, this is a huge thing. I felt out of my mind when I started at Novaura. It’s okay to feel nervy or something.”

You push the key into the ignition, watching as he nods, a surprisingly steady voice telling you, “I know. Of course, that’s normal.”

Yet, as the seconds pass and the motor roars, you feel him grow uneasy on the passenger’s seat. It’s not until you pull out of the parking lot and near the first traffic light that he finally fesses up.

“I feel really fucking weird.”

You turn to him. The day is darkening and the red traffic light colouring his face extra bright. In it, he looks particularly concerned and frightened, accompanying his words with a deep exhale. He rubs his chin for a second.

And when you dig, “Weird how?”, he says, “I’m just unsure about what I got myself into.”

“Into something you will love to do.”

“Yeah, I mean — I just get why people say it’s dangerous to turn your hobby into work. He said exceptional talent today and my God. It’s very scary, landing amidst many good artists that I might not be able to compare with.”

You hum, checking for pedestrians before taking a right turn. You chew over his words before you ultimately tell him, “You don’t need to compare, though, do you? I thought that was never really the objective.”

“No, but… in the end, competition is crucial.”

“Oh… Jungkook. It’ll all turn out just right.”

It’s all you can do at the moment; wrap your words in honeyed support, extra sweet as you operate the wheel. But he’s distracted; staring out the window, blinking slowly, a hand on his cheek — he looks magnificent even like this, nearly animated.

“Hey,” you start, overcome with bits of guilt that you can’t help better. At home, you’ll prepare a loose schedule for him, boost motivation. You pat the back of his hand resting on his thigh, tell him, “Be yourself. Present what you love. People see passion, so whatever you do, it’ll be enough.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a fraction; Paik said something similar.

“Present what I love.” He tries out the words, inhales the crips air blowing in from the open slit of the window. Then — displays his signature smirk. “So shall I take you with me?”

It’s only that he meets your eyes again when yours narrow, playfully judgemental and incredibly amused. The humour he finds in every situation…

The palm previously touching his skin lifts and pushes at his shoulder, and you say, “You’re disgusting.”

“It’d be a win-win moment, though. I can just bring you anywhere,” he still jokes, though bits of light remorse resonate in his voice, too. You get why when he says, “After all, I’ll have to be away from you for a little, too.”

Ah… that.

“Well, I mean. Busy times are ahead anyway. I’ll drown myself in work,” you say.

“Yeah. I don’t know. God, this is… stressful.”

You move into your alley, a reflex when the pace slows and you carefully turn into the garage. Jungkook and you abandoned the random parking lots outside that are almost never free and opted for a paid spot in the garage instead.

Big advantage. It’s inside and not a 5-minute-walk away, warmer in the winter, cooler in the summer. And many lots are free because not everybody needs a car or a parking space.

So… it’s often empty…

Right. Mostly empty. Right now, just him and you.

An idea pops into your mind.

Or rather, a tempting reminder. An old joke, indecent, said in excited moments that you forgot about for a while. Life got hectic.

But… hm.

You let the engine die, taking off your seatbelt, but you don’t leave the car just yet. As Jungkook, lost in thoughts, targets for the handle to strut up to your apartment, you hold him back by his elbow. Tug at the jacket.

“Kook.”

He looks back. Big, big eyes. You almost feel bad for thinking what you’re thinking, because there is no way that huge ass pupils like this could ever give into anything but innocent. If you didn’t know this man and the things he does to you, that’s what you’d assume…

“Can I tell you something?” you inquire.

“What?”

He sits back down, fingers falling off the handle. The questioning look turns more curious, but not worried — you don’t look like you have anything evil to confess. Your cheeks heat up.

“I was missing you today,” you confess. How lame — but a start. You shrug a shoulder to yourself. “Like, can’t-work-properly kinda missing.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome in my head,” the tip of his forefinger pokes his temple, “I miss you all the time.”

You keep staring. Wait for the right moment, ponder whether it’d be better to just leave him be tonight. To let him go up, shower, eat a comforting meal and drop into the mattress. But you’re already riled up at your thoughts; already closing your thighs.

It’s just this dumb joke you have, to execute a specific idea on any day that you might need to. When the days are gloomy and the time is right and you feel like experimenting, distracting yourselves.

Suggestions uttered in steamy moments are usually whatever, mostly just a product of brave craze. Yet, it could be a temporary remedy.

Jungkook’s eyes follow your confused thighs. Whatever he sees, it lights up his gaze a bit. Opens his eyelids. His eyes move back to yours and he blinks again, asks you, “Do you want something? Need something?”

He inches closer. Just enough for you to feel his breaths, fingers pinching your chin. But there’s no lewd intention behind this yet. The touch is pure and modest.

You don’t think he’s caught onto you enough to initiate what you’re willing to give, but it’s still something… he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised when you say, “I’d just— love a kiss right now.”

“A kiss?” He laughs. Of course he knew. “Sure that’s not because you knew I needed one?”

“You’re not the only one who has needs an—”

Your words are cut off as they often are; the impish smile stays as his lips meet yours, but he’s still careful, loving, vulnerable after the week he had.

But for now, you don’t say anything — can’t do it anyway as he moves his mouth gently, kissing you sweetly, not for too long but still enough for your tummy to react. So you hold back a bit less when you part, starting, “This might sound sudden—”

You wait. Then, he asks, “But?”

“But… Do you want to… leave it out somewhere? The stress.”

Just a little, he backs away. Perhaps he didn’t expect to hear this already. Maybe he thought you’d promise more, promise a tender night once your door had closed. But you’re feeling like taking a risk today.

“Huh?” he voices.

“It’s what you think, I think—”

“Like now?”

“Like now. Like here. I mean it.”

“…Seriously?”

You nod just once.

He hesitates. Sure he does — is there anyone in this world who wouldn’t give it a thought, so exposed here, a bit hidden but in a garage open to at least some neighbours anyway? Yes, there probably is.

But Jungkook is… an enigma right now. You don’t know what he’ll say. Give in because he digs adventures like this? Lowkey one to enjoy risks, too, to feel the thrill of you under him, trying to compose yourself, to not be too loud; to give you everything in a space that requires caution?

Or maybe… he’ll just shake his head, roll his eyes and leave. Declare you a fool, laugh at you for suggesting it at all. Tease you with it even at a ripe age.

Damn it, you can’t read his expression.

So you wait. Wait for seconds that feel like minutes, watching him cock an eyebrow, look around, lean back, sigh. As if he’s thinking about it hard; harder than work. As hard as his pants stir.

Well.

Then—

“I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“What?”

“You offer that I let out my stress on you,” he repeats, and you nod, “obviously I won’t hurt you, but… I don’t know how hard I’ll snap.”

Oh, fuck… the liquid is pooling between your legs. The everlasting, old effect of his…

You’re quick to let him know, “I don’t mind.” You draw closer, a hand on his knee, inching up until you feel just the beginning of his stiffening member. You withdraw, put a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I honestly don’t.”

“Not even if somebody walks past?”

You toy with the hem of his jacket. “Don’t give a fuck.”

“Angel…”

“Yeah?”

“Sure?”

“Kook—”

“Okay— Okay. Just, you… You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” Shit. That’s it. Your eyes expand; you can’t believe he surrendered. You guess your effect on him is just as apparent. “Because I might…”

“I know. Yes, of course I will.”

“My God,” he whispers, fingers to your wrist, but so featherlight that it doesn’t affect anything. “Nobody who might know me once I’m famous better see me causing… a scandal already.”

You let out a gasp, faux-offended — the two of you have already learned to laugh about the news articles in the past that concerned you. Now, it’s whatever. But the timing of the jest is just right.

Because his grip tightens suddenly around your wrist, and the frisky gasp you let out turns into a real one. Morphs into a tiny shriek when he pulls you into him, dropping another quiet F-bomb and then commanding, “Back seat. Now.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You get out of the car and back into it at a speed that is nearly embarrassing; especially considering how leisurely he strolls back, a hand through his hair, jacket zipped open.

It’s cold outside, but you feel warm somehow. Well, if you get sick because you were stupid… you won’t mind this time. You could squeak in electrified anticipation.

But not a sound escapes when he finally gets in, luring you into the corner and against the seat before a hand grabs your face and brings his mouth back to yours.

Again, for just a second. He doesn’t make too much of a fuss today, doesn’t say too much; it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes, like now, he does go straight into it with an incredibly determined mind.

And he probably doesn’t have anything to say anyway. His eyes are too foggy. Or at least, nothing except commands. Such as, “Turn around.”

You take off your shoes and your jacket, try to get into position… It’s not easy. Not in such a confined space, not with both your bodies here; not even when he leans back. He’s a big man, after all…

“You tell me if it gets uncomfortable,” he mutters, still soft when you get your knees onto the seat.

But your feet graze his hands, too close to his body; Jungkook fixes the issue fast. Grabs one of your legs and places it down, foot attempting to steady on the car’s floor. The other leg is squeezed along the back of the seat, next to his own leg.

It’s not too comfortable, but not bad enough to complain either. You can still endure easily; it’s not a chore to do so anyway when he leans down, grabbing your jacket and throwing it into the passenger seat. Or when his warm hands crawl beneath your top, raise it, lips just barely brushing your skin.

He wants to do far more than this, but the space doesn’t allow as much; you know that under different circumstances, he’d let his tongue wander down. But he can’t lean back more than this, so he lets the fingers do their job.

Tugs at your jeans, following the hem, unbuttoning them once he reaches the front.

He circumnavigates along your skin until he’s caressing your ass, allowing another chaste touch just to return to the spot that was covered under the jeans’ button a second ago. The movements are scarce, with an unspoken purpose that you can’t decipher just yet.

Possibly to his own pleasure, to take you in inch by inch, to feel the heat in his already alight fingertips.

And then, without a word or a warning, he yanks your jeans down, bringing the baggy material way to your knees. Your panties are still in place, unfortunately, still a probably irritating obstacle to the delirious hazard behind you.

But you guess he contains his urge to run wild, instead asking with a voice drenched in syrup, “Feeling cold?”

“Surprisingly not…” you tell him, lifting the hand once you notice it’s clinging to the car’s door handle. Nah — would be awkward to fall out half naked now. “Even if I was, I’d take the fever for this.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, cursing under his breath; you can nearly feel and clearly see him shaking his head without even looking at him. He says, “You’re impossible. Then again,” he sighs, “if you just knew. My view is definitely worth the cold.”

“Shut up. Do something.”

It’s supposed to come out as an order, but you end up sounding as though you’re pleading instead. It must entertain him as much as it embarrasses you because he, clearly helped by the abundant sarcasm in his mind, responds, “Yes, yes. Certainly.”

At least he keeps his promise — happily obliges when he presses a finger to your nub. Not too harshly — it doesn’t hurt when he rubs the cotton panties against your skin before he moves to push them aside.

And you’re neither surprised nor ashamed when his digit slips right in, a smooth one fell swoop motion, prying out a satisfied sound.

You need to feel all of this. Need to be more comfortable. So you press your forehead against the door; immediately feel it when he pumps his fingers in and out slowly, follows the slight changes in your position.

He doesn’t stop. Continues until his movements quicken just a tad, but then slow down again. Initial instinct tells you that he’s already toying with you, using your devotion to him to tease you towards insanity.

But that’s not true. He’s still too hazy-brained to really think further than this mere touch, admitting to you, “This… is not easy.”

Oh… yeah. You’ve been kneeling here awkwardly; didn’t really think about how strange it must be for the almighty sex god sitting behind you, too. Besides…

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” you tell him; push his ego, “was already pretty fucking nice.”

He laughs, more so lovingly than mischievously. You told him to not hold back tonight, but you know Jungkook — in the end, even he can’t resist your charms. There’s an unspoken and spoken adoration between the two of you and he can never help but showcase it like this.

He attempts to provoke, “You’ll love anything I do, though, no?”

“You say it like you’re any different.”

“Shut up,” he instantly imitates, landing a couple faint slaps to your ass as he shifts. “And get up.”

And you listen instead of opting for snarky remarks. The faster you indulge, the quicker he’ll deliver. Fuck, you want him to.

The kisses don’t end for the night when you very briefly face him again, half turned to him with an arm backwards around his head. Your lips lock only for a moment before he takes a proper sit in the middle, tugging you up to him.

It’s funny, how he’d never kiss you months ago, no matter how many hints you left and no matter how badly his body urged for it; and now he’s never capable of stopping. Back then, his mind warned him to stay back; that it’d only throw him into this endless pit of madness and falling in love if he gave in.

In truth, he already had. Found out better late than never.

The entire process of moving in here, entangling your limbs and trying your best in barely a square meter, is draining, but you find a solution quickly. Granted, said solution is messy and forces your head against the ceiling for a painful second, but…

Once in his lap and between his legs, everything seems irrelevant.

And you hope he didn’t notice anyway. But of course he did. His laughter reveals it; you tried to brush off how you rubbed your head, to hide it behind your heavy breaths, but Jungkook is attentive. So you join in, surrendering to the playfulness amidst the ardour until it dies in your throat.

Gone and faded when he puts a hand around your neck, pulling you closer; your back is secured to his chest.

And goddamn, the kisses are wet. Sloppy, dirty, landing on more free inches of your skin when he lifts your head, other hand busy roaming over your tits — then further down, down your body, your top, your stomach, once again past the panties that fell back over your drenched pussy.

And the aching clit… begging and swollen. Just waiting for him to come back.

You let out a sigh and sound so lustful, it surprises even you.

And Jungkook, warm, heavy and hard under you, holds you tight, muttering to himself, “Okay.” Waits, breathes, licking his lips before he shortens, “‘Kay.”

You lean forwards when he cups your pussy, and then sit back — or rather, you are forced back as he tugs you in, greedy and fucked out of his mind. You grip his thighs when he sneaks closer to your awaiting hole, brushing over your leg, and then right back in.

God, the calculated movements…

Rounding the clit… gauging the wetness… stuffing you more and further and better.

And you feel it all. Every nerve lighting up, walls tighter around him now before relaxing again. Your lower tummy builds up the knot, and you let your head fall back onto his shoulder; only, it’s just your cheek that lands against his, free to be kissed.

“Spread them more,” he whispers against your jaw, nibbling at the earlobe. “These…”

He repeats when you don’t register. Then you take another moment to understand what you can spread, stupidly mistaking his order to hold apart your nether lips; but you soon realise that you’ve decreased the angle your legs stand in.

“Wha—?” you question, even though you’re aware of what to do. You just… you want to feel his piping hot breath against your aflame skin again.

“I said,” he starts, a harsh grip around your thigh pulling it to the side. Your heart rate increases. “Spread.”

Ah…

You’re already so sensitive even without any orgasm, and the sensation keeps you moving, legs shutting involuntarily. And he keeps parting them, pumping harder — but apparently, he wants to focus on more than on actually holding you in place.

You grin. Your mistake.

But you guess this route distracts him from daily issues just as much.

Especially when you let your legs fall over his own, dangling, keeping them there and spreading to your maximum abilities. He can take you out now. And he does. The squelching sounds, lewd, louder even in this car than in your spacious bedroom, make it clear.

Because now he’s using two fingers at once. Knuckles deep. Massaging the right spot inside with ease. The way he knows what he’s doing nearly renders you jealous — but then you realise he had plenty of time to practice on you, too.

There’s a reason for his extensive knowledge of your body, after all.

Like how you want his fingers inside, a thumb on your bud or his hands around your firm nipples. How you love the nasty fantasy of him spreading your cum over your tits, just as he is now when you release your high, screaming into the car, arching your back for seconds.

You attempt to get in between, to quicken the orgasm, to shift until nothing’s left in you. But Jungkook is eager to take over the work; pins your intruding hand to your thigh when you try to touch yourself again.

One more, “Stop this, will you?” is dropped before he is back to your clit, overstimulating you to whimpers.

Are you a masochist for loving this? Did he make you like this? Maybe — probably. You won’t complain. You will take it… want to take it. His angel, yes?

You turn to look at him. You barely see him properly from this proximity and in this light, but you do recognise a hooded gaze meeting into your own eyes’ daze. He closes the distance to steal another kiss, but then he stops; keeps staring at you instead.

He prefers this sometimes. Mouth agape. Forehead close to yours. A sweet voice asking, “What? I can stop whenever.”

Whether it’s a threat or a reassurance, you don’t know. You’ll take both; either does it for you right now.

“No,” you protest, “I told you to let it out.”

“But…” The sly smile returns. The switch from caring boyfriend to reckless devil is rapid, absolute madness. “But I do enjoy tormenting you.”

You tsk, “Then, do whatever the fuck you want. You know what I want.”

“Right… Do it then,” he begins, his voice almost imperceivable. “Take a seat.”

What an ass…

Not in the back seat, obviously; he has most of it occupied already, manspreading as he is. No, he’s talking about that throne of yours that you keep claiming on the regular. The one that…

You clear your head. If you don’t focus on lifting, you won’t be able to. Willpower.

And while moments of giddy weakness do pass, you manage to separate from him by a few inches, keeping an eye on his erection as he hurries — struggles — to take off his pants. It’s a hassle; you bump your head again, too, swearing, “Fucking hell.”

He doesn’t laugh this time. Too busy to rid himself off his boxers, letting the divine cock spring out, towering, veiny, big and fat. It grows by the second when you sit down again, settling between your ass cheeks, twitching.

Your slip is the last hurdle. Which you do try to remove before that pain in the ass — not literally, though you wished it was — brings his fingers back to where you ache for him, gives you some more, still overstimulating and edging when you say, “Bit more — just a bit—”

You’d rather have something else inside, but Jungkook is resolute today, and you will not be one to have a problem with it. Not with him, not ever.

You clench your jaw as you crawl closer to your high again, raising yourself and pumping him in retaliation before he finally gives up around a minute later and a strained voice quite literally demands, “Sit the fuck down.”

“…Pleasure.”

And that’s it.

He impales you so deeply; you never get used to it, always think it’s ending when it doesn’t. Hear the absolutely, devastatingly sinful moans he lets out, see the heavenly attractive face he makes when you look at him.

Your breaths are stagnant when you move back up and slap down onto his legs. Keep giving until something snaps in you after a mere minute already.

This orgasm he built was an intense one, and you awaited it, already knowing you’d wave the white flag very fast already. You’re surprised it took this long at all; you had anticipated to come undone the moment he entered you.

But it still makes your legs quiver. Strains and then relaxes your muscles, numbs you inside out, your body uncontrolled as you unwind in waves. How does he manage to do this each time? How do men usually not?

If you weren’t proud and possessive, and if privacy wasn’t a construct in relationships and the entirety of the world, you’d suggest for him to give a crash course to men on how to help a girl out. At least one guy does it fucking right.

Oh, anyone being fucked like this is just—

You exclaim in lust as you keep bouncing, his fingers pinching your nipples, teeth digging into your shoulder. He remembers that he’s the one supposed to let himself go tonight, and soon reverses, delivering smacks to your pussy before he parts your legs again.

And then… starts hammering from below.

Reflexively, you look down.

You still can’t recognise much in the dark, but you do see the hardness driving into you and out of you. His thrusts are wild, his balls bouncing — you cover them with a hand around them, massaging them and playing until he loses it.

“What the fuck—”

You love it when he expresses such a thing. Cursing, whispering it. It disturbs his rhythm, but that doesn’t mean the ramming stops. Still deep, still fast, still accompanied by low-pitched, guttural, exhausted sounds.

You soon hold onto his legs again, keeping yourself from falling to the side. Then again, Jungkook is well wrapped around you, and he won’t let you go anywhere just now. Not until he’s done with you, and you’re done with any feeling in your body.

What if you just stayed here tonight, told him to keep doing this over and over again? Would he do it…?

You’re so desperate, aren’t you?

“Oh, God… angel,” he only murmurs, biting harder into your shoulder before he moans against it. “Mmh— I love you. And this pu— oh, fuck—”

He can’t talk anymore. Too fast down there, a jarring pace, chasing his peak now at all cost. You’re permanently thirsty for this very moment; when you’re already all wet around him, spilled and filthy, waiting for him to lose control with only one goal in mind.

Seriously, anyone being fucked like this is lucky. You cracked a jackpot in the middle of a hundred concerns.

Crazy how you ran from them by letting him rail you on his small dorm room table, the front of your torso pushed down onto it or cheeks touching the cold of his door. He’d always find a way to bring you to tears of longing, but you didn’t think you’d ever find deeper affection in this passion someday.

But there is. So much of it when he kisses your neck again and then your jaw, raising your legs, keeping them up. Shooting his cock far up into you and pounding you breathless like a doll; all at the same time as he whispers, “I love you, baby. I love you.”

It is never a confession he misses. Like clockwork, always present. Words that don’t convey just yet what he feels but all he can still revert to.

This is what he meant by not holding back. He wouldn’t just stop fucking his craving into you, but all he’s grown to feel, too. And shit, do you love him, too—

He said he didn't know what he’d do. But he does.

Because despite the craze he’s delivering, he’s still somehow careful around you. Even now; always. Even while spreading your pussy wound. Injecting it into his words when he asks, “You… good?”

“Yes, yes,” you yell out; how could you hold back, lower your volume now? “Yes— Kook—”

“I know, yes, m-me…” A pause in between to catch his breath; he’s so fatigued but keeps going. “Me too.”

You call out again, and his hand flies up, leaving your body to shut your mouth. Unrelated, he admits, “Wish I could stuff a-all your holes.” Then shakes his head. “I dunno what sounds you’d make—”

You don’t know either; you can barely imagine it. Imagine anything. And you’re so permanently intrigued by this statement — he keeps saying it. Keeps teasing you. You’re still waiting for this fortunate day.

“You go– got me good last time,” he says, referring to the empty countryside house and the charm you bewitched him with, “my turn now.”

Indeed it is. He’s still not done.

Not at all as he pulls out suddenly, much to your demise, and throws you onto the seat and says, “Ass up. Bit like before.”

He sniffs, and as you look over your shoulder, you see him pushing back the hair and the shirt up to his chest, abs visible even in the faint lights of the garage. You are more than surprised that nobody walked past your car yet.

Or maybe, you just didn’t notice.

Who cares anyway…

You just want to focus. Not on them, but on how he pushes himself back into you, harsh from the start, leaning in with a finger in your mouth again to swallow some of your sounds. He pulls up your ass, pushes down your torso.

Your body is his leverage as his hands settle on your back, his cock shooting back and forth. Pelvis slapping against your ass, loud and aggressive, balls deep…

When he comes, your wrists are in his grip somehow. He’s kissing your shoulder again, endless loads of seed filling you up. His movements are irregular, too, sounds staggering on top of yours, thrusts slower but still deep until he’s… done.

Breathing heavily, he tries not to collapse over you, not getting enough air. But he doesn’t dare to open the windows or the door, either. With all the sweat, the two of you would be sure to get sick, and neither of you can, in hindsight, have it right now.

So you wait. Let him and yourself take a moment, reluctant to let him fall out of you just yet. This is somehow… nice. How he stirs and shrinks, keeping your body warm.

You turn your face to plant your cheek to the seat, and Jungkook, letting out a tiny, tired laugh, says, “Why did you even do your make up today?” Unserious question, really, because he’d never oppose your love for make up. But— “Guess it won’t be difficult to remove it today if I’ve already smeared most of it.”

“Oh fuck…” you say, trying to lift your body with your elbows, but you fall back due to his weight on half of you, “we’ll need to properly clean up the car this weekend.”

“Can’t even think about it right now.”

“Right. So… shall I stop doing my make up from now on?”

“No. It’s up to you,” he immediately answers — but then, like the ass he is, he says, “as long as you’re okay with having it ruined every day.”

You reach for his knee, slapping it as you say, “Sex maniac.”

“I’m not a sex maniac,” he protests, “it’s not about sex but about you.”

You understand — there were times when it was different, for both of you; no matter whether with each other or with others. Sometimes, sex does stem from pure lust, a consensual passing of time.

But you always sensed that the two of you were far more than that. Maybe not a couple-to-be, but certainly more than a way to pass time. Perhaps the night at the frat party so long ago already felt different, too…

“If you say so,” you tell him, wiggling your butt. He’s already soft, but you still utter, “Wish there was a camera to see what’s going on back there sometimes.”

“Mmmh. It looks pretty fucking good,” he says, pulling out, the panties back at their place as he traps the cum inside for now. “I’ll film it next time.”

“Seriously, man…”

You sit up. You already feel the liquid running out of you when you put your jeans back on; it’s somewhat disgusting, but a symbol of healthy obsession, too. It’s fine.

Besides, you’ll be up in your apartment in a jiffy.

“Truly, how do we clean this up…” you wonder as you look around, not able to see much anyway.

But he argues, “More importantly right now, how do we get to the apartment to clean you up?”

You wave him off with a hand. “Find a way. I can’t move and it’s your fault, so you figure it out.”

A hearty snicker follows, and you can’t help but lift your lips to a smile, too. He kisses your hair, and says, “I am somehow super proud of myself, hearing that.” He leans down, grabs a heavy piece of clothing. “Put this on.”

Your jacket. It’s getting colder by the minute now.

“Up, up, then.”

And you do tumble up. Slowly and cautiously, muscles already aching and everything sore — he’s loving it. “Seeing you like this… I guess it wasn’t a bad idea after all.”

“Not at all,” you agree, “honestly, both routes are fun. My turn next time.”

“Sure. You’re all hot and sexy and make me feel hot and sexy until,” the key turns in the lock, opening the apartment door as he grows quieter, “my mother comes in and sees the clothes lying around the next morning.”

You gasp in indignation, instant embarrassment flooding through you as you think back to the fervent night and the whimsical morning. You whisper, “Did she?!”

But as always, Jeon Jungkook is a jerk.

“No. I’m kidding.” You reach for his arm, whining his name, but sighing in relief, too. “Sorry! But. They probably still knew, you know? Why does a couple ever leave a party early, really?”

You think for a second. Then hum in agreement, letting go of him as you shrug, “To fuck.”

“And now we know it’s valid to do so. Because we fucked fucked.” No shame whatsoever. No filter, either. You laugh. “Alright. We’ve still got time.” He hangs the jacket on the racket. “Hungry?”

“Yes and no. I’m famished, but also more than satisfied.” You walk in with a yawn. “A snack maybe? Full dinner in a bit?”

“I know what snack is code for.” He winks; you roll your eyes. “Okay, okay — wanna watch something in the meantime?”

“Sure.”

As you enter the living room, he looks around, asking, “Where’s the laptop?”

But you’re already taking a turn to the bedroom. Off to grab your clothes, take a quick shower and press a dent into the mattress. You repeat, “Don’t know. I’m not moving anymore. You get it.”

“Brat.”

But he still does.

Still cuddles into you with food, preparing tea and bringing your favourite snacks, tucking you in properly with all the effort left and right. He’s tired and probably still — or again — nervous, and yet he spends the rest of the hours watching some show you started until he starts obsessing again.

Over your heart, over your mind, over you. Barely a mutter when his cheek lands on your chest again, taking in your fragrance as he breathes, “This helped… still does. You always help.”

“…I just want you to know, baby, that… I’ll always believe in the best outcome. You’ll rock this.”

“I’ll rock this.” And as you whisper an exactly, he chuckles quietly. Moving further into you and your soul before he adds,

“Why do I never get used to you?”

You don’t respond — only smile, running your fingers through his silky hair.

But you know the answer.

For this is exactly what happens when the soul keeps falling in love with someone. Over and over again.

“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”

“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”

You launch a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.

He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.

Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the art fair and gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.

There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.

“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.

“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the chance to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”

Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.

And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi late again.

Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”

This should do.

But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.

This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.

As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.

He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the delights and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.

You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.

You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.

Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”

But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.

More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.

His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.

But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.

Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.

Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.

They informed you that it happened sometime during the first few hours of last night; not entirely out of the blue, but sudden enough to cause a stir in the house. Neighbours saw the lights, posed questions the morning after.

Ria is a light sleeper, often alarmed when it comes to Gureum.

The whining tugged her forcefully out of her dreams, a bit more defeated and pained this time until exhaustion stopped it altogether. When Gureum’s soul threatened to leave, Ria pulled him into his arms just in time, seated in the middle of the printed carpet.

The shock was too intense to not wake the surroundings; she was nearly hysterical as she drove to the small town emergency vet clinic in a hurry, right in the middle of the night. Her eyes were too blurry to see the numbers on her phone, not clearing for so long until the first call finally chimed in your city and lit up Jungkook’s phone.

Recounting the last hours and the visit in the clinic. Asking what to do. Telling him what the vet had suggested. Revealing how saying goodbye and letting him rest was the kindest option according to the doctor.

Hearing as the Jeons thought and spoke about it, losing part of their hearts, and then after an hour, with a weight on their burdened chests — gave in.

You already know that Gureum’s whimpers weren’t new to the family, albeit less dispirited before — everyone was aware he’d been sick for a while.

It was just that — Jungkook expected far more time. Didn’t think his recent goodbye required any form of final words as the two of you left the town. You guess the tears he shed this morning inhabited not only deep grief, but inevitable, cruel regret, too.

He was already talking about a return during the holidays, how he’d crouch and wait as his forever-puppy charged towards him. The same fluffy face squished between Jungkook’s palms.

The plan shattered like a mirror.

You cancelled the double date as soon as he opened his mouth, barely a word properly announced. Swallowed and eaten amidst the rush of overwhelming emotions. You saw the endorphins decrease in his eyes in real time.

It was more than enough to remain within these walls and offer most of the solace you could possibly summon. He’d need some of the quiet now. Basic human reaction; what good would it do to force himself out the sheets if his body refused so fiercely?

You told him. And then he broke down harder; now that he had no reason to veil the red-rimmed eyes that the tears caused, he let them out in waves, in bursts, unafraid.

Unbelievable, how a singular second could change the course of the day and, possibly, the upcoming week. You knew the moment you saw his face. He didn’t need to verbalise his shock — but when he told you what was going on, your heart still splintered.

The circumstances hit you like a brick, but you figure that they smashed into him like a truck.

And you’re uncertain whether you’re doing this right. Cannot figure out how to properly comfort him, to siphon off the torment. Will pulling him in, hugging him into you serve as a bandage enough? Or uttering the right words to clear the overcast mind?

You wish you were as good with your words as you are on paper.

As good as he is when you, or anybody, is hurting. You wish you could undo this morning.

But you can’t, and the underlying, rooted affection will worsen all that’s already broken.

Because loving somebody who’s gone like this is different from losing them to the world and to time and space and distance. This very love isn’t reciprocated anymore because there is no beating heart left to feel — and you can’t alter what the reality confronts you with.

You just keep loving because you remember and as long as you remember.

And because you feel that if you didn’t, you could impossibly ever honour their once cherished existence. As if forgetting could erase them out of history, when it of course never does.

You know it; once Jungkook has allowed to let him feel it all, you know he will, too. Because the only way to truly brighter days has always ever been through the misty pain. For now, you can only hold him, be here.

Mourn with him as his voice breaks through the silence that befell the late night, muttering, “How does any creature lose a fight against nature when it loved it so much before?”

His voice is so fragile and small; so is he. He’s probably only half expecting an answer when you whisper, “Nature gives and then takes…”

He nods against your clavicles, shrinking on the couch. Half on your body, eyes drooping.

“I read somewhere that… that nature needs to keep a balance for the world to stay intact. But,” he sighs through the exhaustion. The tears have dehydrated him; you throw a glance at the half drunk water on the coffee table. “But pets should be an exception.”

You guess that if this wretched world, separated by hate and misery, could come together and agree on one thing, it’d probably be this very request to exempt all that’s innocent.

You wish the universe and souls worked like this.

“I know.” You halt, mind travelling to what you remember of the Maltese, and then say, “Talking about nature… You once mentioned something about snakes, didn’t you? We never got to the end of the story.”

Your eyes drift to his profile. His muscles are still somewhat weak, keeping the corners of his mouth south, but you think you recognise a little smile nevertheless. And then, he nods again, just before recounting a memory in detail, surprisingly fresh and sharp.

He tells you about how Gureum would detect random snakes in the meadow or fields sometimes, follow them. Dogs are generally curious, but Gureum seemed to have, as Jungkook jokingly deducts, close to no awareness of the dangers around him.

You chuckle.

“And then, with time, he got used to me telling him not to touch or chase the snakes,” he continues, “and I remember him running towards me one day, with an incredibly weirdly shaped snake between his teeth and… I almost died.”

“Holy shit—”

“I kinda flipped just looking at him.” This time, he shakes his head. “Except, it wasn’t a dead snake, just a really damn strange looking, thick orange-brown stick. But I was already scolding him and he did not like my tone.”

“You can be scary. When you tell me to unplug the toaster after using it and stuff?”

Jungkook snickers lightly, joining your sound, and explains, “Gureum wasn’t used to it, though, that spoiled little ball of cotton.”

“Yeah, but… I would’ve gotten half a heart attack, too. Must have been terrifying for the first few moments.”

“But,” he intervenes, “I shouldn’t have been mean. I remember the way he looked at me, all disappointed.” He sighs, and you feel the breath against your skin. “And then he avoided me. Pissed and pouty in his basket on our way back. He— he didn’t look at me until I apologised with a snake toy I found in a shop. Boy loved that.”

“Oh, I saw the toy.” You recall the old and ripped plushie half buried underneath the rest of Gureum’s toy, scattered on the ground under the TV. “Looked all vandalised.”

“Yeah.”

There’s another stillness in the room as the soundwaves die, broken only by your breathing and your eventual hum. Jungkook slowly lifts his head from your chest, staring directly into your eyes, as if to read what you’re thinking — just like you are.

His pupils glint a bit less than usual, eyebrows calm yet sad — he blinks when the dryness burns, and then asks, “You’re trying to say something.”

It’s the same old; but people are different. You don’t know whether he wants to hear it. Sometimes, heartache demands distraction. Other times, sympathy and empathy; to just listen for a bit.

You want to give a healthy mixture of both without making him feel like you’re pitying him, because you’re not.

But you know Jungkook; even with you, he sometimes forgets that he’s thoroughly loved and rightfully so.

So you voice your sincere fondness still, “I am so sorry, Jungkook. And… I wish I could do more.”

His father said something similar on a later phone call today.

I wish I could do something about it. I’m sorry, Jungkook.

And—

Come over. We will talk and eat together.

Sorrow really brings people together, it seems.

He’d visit soon, Jungkook said. Needs some time alone, under the blanket, processing the truth for a bit until he can face actual conversations with people who witnessed the same individual for so many years.

“You might not believe me…” he starts, weaker again. His voice is barely a whisper; he’s so fatigued. “But I don’t expect more than this. You’re enough.” A little pause, and then. “I will also finally call a therapist… might be the right time. We were talking about it anyway.”

You were. You have been for a while. The promise to not let issues interfere with daily life anymore, to heal individually as well as together. So you nod right away, the first to support the idea.

“You have my back, Kook.”

“I know, angel.” He gulps. Close to cuddling back in, but you cradle his face, keep looking at him. He looks surprised for the tiniest moments, but his expressions relax quickly; followed by a question, “And you?”

And you?

You don’t know. You want to lean into his suggestion, but you’re still afraid. Fearful of what you might dig out of the depths of your heart through conversing with the therapist alone.

You’ll do it, pinky promise, but…

“I’ll still wait just a little,” you admit, and he nods, accepts it. “Besides… I want to support you first. Just a bit longer. Then I’ll go. Cross my heart.”

“Good… okay. Whatever you think is right, okay? I’m here, too.”

So typical. An anchor, no matter the turmoil in his own chest.

“I love you. I really do,” you tell him, obliterating any chance for him to respond just yet.

Instead, you pull him. Look at him, misty eyed, and press a tiny peck to his dry lips. He sniffs, parting his mouth and asks, “What was this for?”

And perhaps he’s anticipating your answer, head tilting to the side, another small glitter flickering when you tell him, “I felt like it. Could do it all day.”

And it works — even if for a fragment of a second. The smile appears, but it never really creeps up far enough to his eyes.

You guess that’s what happens when somebody’s soul keeps falling in love and then loses what it loved.

Sometimes, a busy mind is an oblivious mind.

Not that Jungkook ever forgets as the hours of the day pass, but at least work will keep him briefly occupied for now. Motivation wanes when the focus resides elsewhere, of course, so it isn’t super ideal that he was hit by the news at such an important time.

Then again, working isn’t too bad either. It distracts him.

And Namjoon, no matter how well he usually matches somebody’s energy, will do him some good, too. Will cheer him up, push some courage and artistic inspiration into him.

The upcoming trip, the one that will leave you alone in the empty apartment for a bit, is fast approaching, though still a while after the gallery event. But Jungkook and Namjoon are already discussing details, settling on spots that might ignite some painter’s fires in them.

Namjoon said this is all about getting Jungkook to a place that can evoke colours he doesn’t even know, arouse a side of his talent that might help him later on; if — no, when — he rises to the top.

And since you’re done with your meetings today, most chores taken care of for the soon-to-come launch, you allow yourself an afternoon off and meet up with your best friend.

The group has already been back for quite some time, and while you’ve gathered some intel on the latest, downhill occurrences, you want to be there properly.

This is what you know: Apparently, soon after the two of you left, the conversations got heated, and eventually, as the distress reached its peak, Taehyung and Eun broke up. Ever since, they have been coping — or however well their hearts permit.

You regret your absence the moment Eun opens the door. You were attempting your best to juggle work and the emotional burdens of every hour, bringing solace to Jungkook and finding a moment to meet Eun for an extended period of time.

Eun has been holing up in here for all these days the way you did back in the summer. You are somewhat the worst friend; especially when her quiet voice welcomes you in, her hug not as tight as usual, the bubbly girl even physically worse.

Dark undereyes. Sad and distant gaze. Half a smile, as if fearing that you’re pouring all your sympathy into her, pitying her. She doesn’t enjoy this type of attention, but she also knows that you’re you and that this level of care can’t be changed.

Pity? No. Sympathy? You’d lose part of yourself if that one was lacking.

“I missed you…” you start as you sit down, waiting for her to join as she places a glass of water in front of you. You shift, unsure where to start. “Eun—”

But she’s quick to interrupt, “Listen, I… I know I’m supposed to talk about this.” She’s barely looking at you. “But I’ve thought about it over and over again and I don’t even know what to say anymore.” Shake of her head. “None of us is at fault. I can’t even be mad at him.”

“No… I wanted to say that, too. And that means you’re just as little at fault.”

You wait — because whenever words fail, stuttering and hesitating, wheels whirring in a fragile mind… that’s when even more tumbles out a moment later. And your instincts prove true.

She begins, “But…” Waits; and then spills, “We still fought the way we did and then, when the vacation was over… he was crying and I was, too, and we just felt so fucking sorry the entire time—”

Her voice is already shaking and breaking. She must have practiced this a hundred times in her head, but no preparation is ever enough to keep the affliction inside. It always pours, like rain, inhabiting a story in each drop.

Everyone who has ever loved might understand.

You give her some time as she attempts to hold it together in the middle of her lively and bright living room — but then you place a hand on her knee, assuring that there’s no need for restraint. So she pulls in a trembling breath, eyes so watery that they keep overflowing.

It reminds you so much of him days before.

The tears leave her in streams, collecting abundantly. And her nose reddens; your heart drops. Eun is the last person to ever deserve heartache of such calibre.

She cries until her face grows hot, cries until the sounds echo painfully. You hold her to your heart, trying to piece hers together for a bit, so aware that the one able to do this isn’t in the room with you right now. Rather trying to mend his own.

It’s already bad as it is, and you nearly wish he could spawn in here, tell her he’ll reconsider, make her happy as he’s supposed to. Of course it’s counterproductive; but how could higher powers even split these two in the first place?

It’s brutal.

And it’s worse, much meaner, thinking of the world as a vile place when her blurred speech inquires, “How d-di… how did you cope… when Jungkook and you broke up?”

You don’t quite know what to say. You don’t know because there’s hardly any advice to give. You were a mess. Which is what you honestly admit, “I barely did. You saw me — but you helped make it easier.” You put a cheek to her head. “So I’m here, too.”

“I know. I know… it’s just—” The next breath is sharp, the kind where it hitches and the sounds become high-pitched, mixing with hints of panic and pure sadness. “It’s kind of worse that he didn’t do any— anything wrong.”

She moves her head to and fro again against your chest, furious, “I can’t even rely on anger or just— do my best to hate him because none of us did anything to actually hurt the other.”

Her voice, usually so composed, gains on volume with each word. Probably a way to keep herself from whispering; to keep her sentences from breaking.

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” you tell her, “it can serve as hope, too, you know? That not everybody is just shitty, and that there’s somebody who’s as great as him with the things you want, too.”

“But I want him.”

“Oh… babe…”

It’s this childlike yearning, the burning ache that hurts the most. You know what it feels like and you know there’s no easy way to overcome it, regardless of who one’s surrounded by. Naturally, she feels that way; you wish it had come differently.

She speaks on, “I should’ve known! That man isn’t just good with kids because he’s a social butterfly!” There’s some of the anger she spoke of; somehow, it stabilises her voice. “I should’ve known that he wants his own some day, too. Men, they usually do and it’s just me being so—”

“No,” you immediately react. “You are not wrong or anything at all for not wanting them. Even I…”

You pause. Actually, you don’t really know. You realise that you and Jungkook never got around to breaching this subject, despite cracking occasional jokes about it. You do remember how giddy you felt during the slippery soccer game…

“It’s just that,” you opt for instead, “it’s not so easy to think about and even worse to talk about.”

“And of course it’s easier for men. They don’t know what it feels like. The fear of pain and committing for the rest of our lives and never knowing how a husband might change…”

She’s letting it all out; maybe she needs to. Maybe she hasn’t been able to do so until now. You wonder how much she has said to Jimin so far. He might understand the two of you better than anyone else, having known you all your life, but… he’s still a guy, after all.

“What did he say when you told him? Tae?” you wonder, trying to come up with your own ideas. As far as you understand Taehyung, you don’t reckon he ever responded with anything too insensitive. “Did he dismiss your feelings?”

And you’re right. Because—

“No!” Her body moves to upright itself. “The bastard was perfectly nice. I can’t even hate him!” she exclaims again, majorly upset. “He said he accepts it, but it might become hard to stay because he really fucking wants them.”

You can almost hear the speech marks. And then, you also hear the absolute drop in volume as she sighs; tells you, “He asked about adoption…”

“…Shit.” The word comes out as barely anything. You hush it to yourself. “And?”

“I said that I just dunno if I’ll ever be able to live or enjoy such a life… that it’s not just about the physical pain… that just—”

She doesn’t speak on. So you add, “That’s okay. That’s seriously okay.”

It becomes quiet in the room. You take a look around. See the curtains, neatly bound in the middle, red ribbon around white sheer drapes. And you see the decorations, the pretty flowers, the lunch on the stove.

Eun does everything so thoroughly in her life. She’s always been calm and organised and a role model for anyone ready to dare a fresh approach to everything. She’s unique, your friend, a sarcastic but warm ray of light.

She doesn’t deserve to cry. It’s ridiculous.

Doesn’t deserve it how frail she sounds when she says, more to herself than to you, “I want him in my life so bad. He’s the one guy for me.”

The phase of pure hope. Denying that it’s over, that he’ll appear here in the morning, that a miracle will make the issues go away.

But… it did happen for you. So you try, very carefully, “He might find his way back to you. Sometimes love endures.”

“And sometimes it doesn’t.”

“I know, but… Either way… you will be okay,” you say. Eun hopes, yes, but that doesn’t always go hand in hand with optimism. You need to give her space, give her time; find a balance between the things she wants to hear and what’s realistic. “With or without him, you will be okay. In the worst case, I’m here. I told you.”

It’s an attempt at a joke, and you seem to succeed, bringing out the lightest chuckle and a sniffle before she jests, too, “With or without Jungkook?”

You laugh. “You were the first love of my life. We’ll get there somehow.”

The faint twinkle in her eyes lifts your spirits, urges you closer to her. Your palm rubs her right arm, providing warmth to eliminate some of the frost in her heart. Then again, maybe you’re wrong — post-break up haze creates unpleasant heat after all.

The hot cheeks from made up scenarios and the jealousy that follows; the knot in the stomach that the pining calls forth; the tightness in your chest, breathing soon a myth.

No, she needs another type of warmth — one you can offer with the cold only.

So you get up to scour her fridge, humming on your way to the kitchen island as you say, “You never run out of ice cream, do you? You keep it stored the way others store potatoes.” You hear a weak, lovely laugh. Bend down to the freezer. “Coming in handy now.”

“Clichée remedy, huh?”

“Gotta be clichée for a reason,” you tell her before you plop down with the box and two spoons, taking off the lid to scoop directly from it. Vanilla and strawberry. “Here.”

You hand her one spoon, and she inspects her reflection for a while, as if she’s seeing it for the first time in a while. The utensil seems odd to her, like a new invention — but when she snaps back into her body and shovels in just lightly, you recognise the stare.

Because she looks just as you felt. When every mundane and basic daily achievement appeared like an uninvited stranger; or a chore to get done with, a challenge to survive.

She has something to say; you recognise it in the gulp and the clearing of her throat. Steadying her voice, giving herself a moment for the vanilla to cool her down.

Then, in a now gentle but defeated tone, she recollects, “It was… really weird. We broke up in the middle of everything and then spent the rest of the time there just— fighting and making up. Out of the bed and… back into bed.”

You don’t down your own bite yet; the sugar needs to awaken her happy dessert hormones first. Instead, you ask, “Have you heard from him ever since?”

She pokes the still somewhat solid ice cream, slowly melting. “No… Just whatever Jimin tells me.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Which, apparently, isn’t much either, though. And I hate myself for being this way, but not knowing what he’s doing and where he is drives me nuts.”

“I know what you mean,” you say, eyes following the spoon brought to her mouth and then back to the box. You’re just glad she’s eating at all; you understand that appetite is scarce when the tummy is already filled with dread and hurt. So you speak up again, “Hey. Come over for dinner sometime?”

Eun hesitates. Not the obvious type of rejection, but rather a weighing of options, thinking ahead, evaluating her emotions and what she’s able to withstand on days like these.

You already know what the issue might be before she says it; you realise it too late, but you guess you’d feel the same if you were her.

“I will,” she starts, fillers taking over the silence. “Uh… Well, once I’m able to look at Jungkook again without thinking of… him.”

“…I get it.”

“Which makes me feel horrible. I would love to offer him some comfort, too. He texted a few days ago, you know?”

You do.

As you strolled the aisles of the nearby market, he mentioned it for a second, summarising the already compact yet sweet message inhibiting his support. He was going to pick up some peanut-chocolate snack for her, too, but you reminded him of her allergy.

The chocolate-covered popcorn that is sitting on the table in front of you instead is the substitute that he chose a minute later; but you won’t tell Eun that. She already feels a plethora of negative emotions, guilt not being the last of them.

It’s already obvious when she asks slowly, “I meant to ask… How is he?”

Well, since you’re being honest.

You chew at the inside of your cheek, thoughts wandering to the man who’s trying his best to keep himself together. Smiles at your jokes and jests back, teases you a little to fabricate an illusion of wellbeing.

But you’re not stupid; you’ve grown to understand his inner workings, so you admit, “Not too well either. This took him out a lot more than I would’ve guessed.” You breathe out, deflating a bit. “It hurts to see. He’s living and all, almost his usual self, but. Doesn’t feel the same yet.”

“Mmh. So when I come over,” she says, spoon falling to her lap; perhaps the actual hunger is coming back in pieces at least, “we’ll just grieve our losses together, I guess.”

You nod, light pats to her knee, promising that, “It will stop hurting. For sure.”

But you don’t know.

No. Undoubtedly, pain always lessens, even when it doesn’t fade. Memories ensure a fraction of whatever stays back.

But… none of this will stop now.

You are aware of it, considering the moments these two shared, no matter how little time passed ever since they grew the way they did. And, considering each second you analyse Jungkook’s face, realising that he, too — the ball of sunshine — will experience rain for a bit longer.

No pain will subside just yet.

You saw it in the way his face dried up the last few days. How he remembers more and more of him. And how your eyes got stuck on a piece of paper just this morning, laying on top of a sketchbook and underneath a frequently used graphite pencil.

It was a drawing; Gureum sticking out his tongue, staring at whoever stared back at him. Only a couple strokes of lines and curves, but so insanely real, too.

For a bit, you couldn’t remember where you’d seen these very elements before, in just this order and shades, but then, as the day passed, you saw it in your mind, just in front of you.

A little photograph of Gureum, secured in Jungkook’s wallet for as long as you’ve known.

Never talked about it much. Never paid much attention to it at all.

But now, you keep thinking about it. Maybe less because of how cute you found it, or because of the fact that Jungkook is able to love this much.

More because the pain of losing somebody really is striking — because an essence remains in a photograph forever, affection stored in it, deeming something or somebody eternal.

That’s probably why human beings feel nostalgic about them. Why the concept was invented at all.

Because even when the fear of forgetting lingers — once a moment is immortalised, one never truly ever does.

Jungkook’s fingertaps synchronise with the ticking of the clock, like a pendulum, when you let him in on recent events. All with Eun’s permission, of course.

You’re surprised Tae didn’t open up to him about it much yet; perhaps there’s something about the rumour that girls feed and boys eat information. Or maybe he’s caught in his own emotions, dealing with them alone — it’s all fresh, after all.

Jungkook was the same — he dodged his friends back during the summer while you divulged your mind to Eun.

“I should call him,” Jungkook says. “It’s a bit selfish of me not to.”

He shakes his head a little, embarrassed, and you know why. Taehyung phoned him just yesterday, hearing of the current situation, speaking out his condolences. He didn’t mention Eun even once.

But you can’t blame Jungkook. He’s grieving in his own way, and you’re overly certain he won’t neglect Taehyung for his own misery for longer than his heart can bear. It’s okay to seek time alone in moments like these — it’s true for both.

“You can do it tomorrow if you want,” you tell him, bringing a hand to the nape of his neck to rub. “But don’t strain your brain.”

“No, no.” He leans back on the bed — he’s been spending most of his free time here now — and stares at his darkened phone. “I’ll call at noon.”

The phone falls to the side as he tilts his head and kisses his lips, and then, he adds, “It doesn’t sound right. Them breaking up.”

Certainly, it doesn’t. You saw them during the holidays; saw the invisible bond forming. But then, as you left, you saw something break, too.

“I know,” you agree, repeating Eun’s words, “and it’s hard to intervene or give advice because neither of them is wrong.”

“Mmh… and neither should be pushed to believe otherwise if they know they’ll stick to their perspective.”

“Yeah. I mean. I don’t think either of them tried to convince the other. Which probably hurts more — having to accept a choice while still being in love.” You push out a stuck breath. “It’s just unfair. I might sound crazy, but I still keep hoping they’ll find back to each other.”

“Nah, it’s not crazy. That’d be how it’s supposed to be. But I dunno.” He shrugs a shoulder, less hopeful than you. Makes sense. You don’t understand Taehyung as well as he does. “I’ve always known that Tae wants to be a parent someday.”

“And I’ve always known Eun doesn’t want it.”

“Some dilemmas are just cruel.”

He lets the ticking clock burn some more seconds, accompanied by quiet sounds of the passing cars down the street. You know he’s contemplating something when he stops blinking, and you’re about to ask when he beats you to it, “What about you?”

“About me? What, having kids one day?”

“Mmhm.”

“Hmmm,” you replicate.

You’ve thought about this, so it’s not like you don’t have an answer to it.

It’s just that it barely even satisfies you — you’re not quite sure how Jungkook will digest it. You remember when you locked yourself into Eun’s bathroom, terrified of his reaction and of the two lines appearing on the test.

But he was supportive. And you think he’d want this with you at some point; if you were honest, the times that you painted such pictures as you mused on a possible future, you didn’t hate the thought.

“Honestly?” you start, shifting. “I grew up not wanting to be a mother. I saw the void at home and how dark everything felt the moment I was alone. And… I didn’t want to do this to someone, too.”

Typical fear of adopting abusive behaviour and becoming the culprit.

Jungkook’s hand floats to your knee, brushing over it with warmth, “Why did you think you would?”

“Because sometimes, we forward trauma instead of processing it and learning from it.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that.”

“But sometimes,” you sigh, mentally switching from left to right, “I catch myself imagining what I’d be like nevertheless. And then I think I’ll want it one day. I really don’t know.” Your eyebrows twitch to kiss. “It’s scary. Talking to Eun scared me ‘cause I don’t want the same thing to happen to us.”

“It won’t.”

Short and precise. Determined and convinced.

Two words alone often suffice; you’re lucky, sharing a space with somebody who communicates with you on the same wavelength. It’s rare, this kind of understanding and love.

You feel instantly relieved.

Yet, you make sure, “It’s just because I know you want this.”

“I want you more. And,” he pauses, tongues his cheek, collects his thoughts to form the sentence, “really, if we settle on either decision while staying together in the process, I’m fine.”

The creases on your forehead deepen. As you said, lucky. But you never expected this level of purity; maybe Jungkook is written by an actual supreme being and you’re met with its manifestation.

Or really, maybe he jumped out of a 3D printer.

You ask, “You’d give up such a thing for me?”

“Like… I won’t lie, I’ve always wanted this. But… it’s your decision.”

See? This is why you deem yourself to be at just the right place in your life, so ecstatic that your heart knew to trust him, to trust this, and to not withdraw when you were hurting.

Your voice lowers, “Is it?”

“You’d be the one hurting,” he says, so matter-of-factly, not to sound smart or feminist. “I’m not going to leave because you decide to avoid pain.”

You chuckle, joyful and bright amidst the colourless days. “Yet, I might decide to go for it anyway.”

“Then I’ll definitely accept it, as well.”

He’s laughing again. It hasn’t been more than a couple days, but he’s never topped this period of time without genuinely laughing before. It’s a tender sound, and authentic, even though it’s still weaker than you are used to.

Obviously it is.

Jungkook is a deep empath; overanalyses and overthinks and overfeels. This day was bound to happen at some point and his heart was bound to break like this.

Some things in life are inevitable after all.

“I love you,” you tell him, a cheek falling onto his shoulder. You close your eyes for a moment, hear his serene breathing. “I’m not letting someone like you go anyway, so just… don’t leave.”

You’re attempting a joke, easing the moment with something as sugary as can get. But it barely takes him a heartbeat to respond, “I was thinking the same about you.”

“Oh… no—”

“It’s just even scarier now, you know, losing people I love.”

Your immediate reaction is speechlessness. You want to let his truth sink into the room, so you can bubble wrap it; just so he knows he’s safe and sound and that his fright, while still present, will crawl beneath the comfort you provide.

One day, he might not see it anymore. He might not dread such an outcome anymore.

“Sometimes these things are out of our control,” you tell him, “but I think some people are capable of promising to stay and actually do so, too.”

“You too?”

You look at him wordlessly, let your eyes speak. Smile at him, take his hand into yours. You don’t think you need to say much and that he understands; and he doesn’t pose a follow-up-question, so you assume you’re right.

Because he squeezes your hand, tells you he’s okay when you ask how he’s doing. Falls into easier and more casual conversation with you, one that allows less heart and mind and more lightness and relief.

As minutes pass, the atmosphere enlivens just a little, enough for you to hope. But maybe, you think, it tires him out, too. Because when you suggest watching a movie to kill the hours until it’s bedtime, he rejects your suggestion; instead, he declares, “I’ll lay down a bit, I think.”

So he does. With a tiny groan and a heavy body falling into soft feathers. And you still sit at your spot.

Watch him fall into a slumber quickly, much until his breathing evens out, peaceful and quiet. Blurry so far, your eyes clear when you, once again, detect the messy desk and the same drawing of Gureum on top of it.

It somehow stands out in the chaotic stack, like an intense presence blending out everything else.

The face on there, the lines and the inspiration behind them feel like a ghost, smiling at you; one he’s desperately carving into his mind, etching it into his memory — how he sounded, how he barked, how he whimpered.

An utter proof for the adoration one holds, beyond a lifetime, reserved even in the absence of a loved one. And these ghosts remain, whether somebody left your realm or just brought in a distance, alive but breathing from afar.

You know, because you recall how much Jungkook haunted you when he stole pieces of you and disappeared from your life for weeks. When he’d return in dreams and thoughts and fears, but never in person.

You couldn’t hear him and couldn’t see him — but somehow, somewhat, he was still always there.

In hindsight, you knew you loved him back then, too. Of course you did; the moment one questions their own feelings, it’s already over, isn’t it? If you had to wonder whether you were in love with him, hadn’t you already lost?

Affection contains such intensity, anyway; an ache stuck in a heart like claws and a breathlessness that doesn’t ever drain your lungs when you’re not in trouble already.

How insane.

Truly, denial often only remains for a moment and turns into transparency very soon. Today, you know with utmost certainty that you loved him.

But that’s exactly why this hurts so fucking much, looking at him.

Locking into his puffy cheeks, the strand of his hair covering half his eyebrow and sticking to the corner of his eye. He always looks so much younger like this. You wipe the hair back; he doesn’t move. Still slightly turned away from you, mouth a little ajar.

So you keep going.

You look at the wall in front of you, hands busy grazing his dark tresses. One of his arms and its fist lay on the pillow beneath his head, the other under the blanket, probably pressed to his heart.

It’s a human way of pushing against the unease.

When your thumb ghosts along his skin, over the apple of his cheek, he does stir. Not too much, only letting out a small puff of air before he turns under the sheets with his eyes still shut — and he stretches out his right arm to drape it around your hips.

You lift your arms a little to give him the space, and he seems to try to adjust until his sleepy brain decides that you are sitting too upright, your hips too high for his arm. But this doesn’t deter him; he doesn’t pull back but lowers his limb to your lap, just above your thigh.

It’s an interesting play, how a drowsy, unconscious mind still registers so much of its surroundings or its emotions. How he’s still acting and reacting according to the life he lives.

And you keep staring. It reassures you somehow. Fills you with soothing consolation.

And he feels the same, you reckon. Because in the middle of it all, he sighs.

Hm…

In a dry desert that exhausts his heart and body with each of its terribly draining attributes, you so proudly feel like his oasis.

Your eyes water, but you breathe in, keep it inside.

You gulp, tugging at the blanket a little to cover the rest of his and your legs; then, you relocate, sliding down on the mattress bit by bit, carefully.

It takes you a matter of seconds until you hear a faint protest, “Mmh, no…” and you hurry to utter an immediate, “I’m still here. All good.”

He relaxes. For a moment, you see his eyelids crack open a slit, and move further with a light smile until you’re lying next to him, forehead at the height of his mouth. You feel the hot breath when he lets out another one of solace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you add, “just wanted to lay down, too.”

He nods, but barely. Your hand glides over his chest and then slowly rounds his torso, back to his shoulder blades. You want to hold him as close as possible and want to wait with an ear to his cotton shirt until his heartbeat winds down.

It’s warm in this room and under the blanket; the fall outside does nothing for you. But you don’t move.

Jungkook buries his lips in your hair. He’s vulnerable; possibly more than you ever experienced him to be in front of his father, or even without you. Those were different kinds of stitches tearing open.

Right now, he’s scared.

This is the main finding for you at this time — it feels like nothing is happening, but in this silence, his mind is crowded.

Jungkook knows very well that you won’t leave; but he also thought Gureum never would. Just like you, you imagine, he has realised several different ways to lose somebody, and it probably terrifies him.

He’ll swarm around you more often now, you know.

Minutes pass and his eyes shut again, but you know he’s awake. More so when he sniffles; doesn’t cry, but still strays a bit from his peace.

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, too, whispering a, “Jungkook…” as you take in his somewhat asleep, somewhat awake state. He’s aware that you’re here, knows where he is, but his brain is foggy, too.

His words, despite all, however, are still clear as day when he reluctantly, quietly says, “This sucks.”

“I know…”

Another break, another sniffle. Then—

“I love you.”

And that’s it.

You answer, but it drowns in his repeated sniffles, eyes and cheek dry when soon against your scalp. But the actual torment under his chest is more than evident in how he holds you.

You can’t help but revert to more promises, no matter how unoriginal they might be. Is that important as long as you mean them, anyway?

So you mutter, “I will always come home to you.”

Jungkook doesn’t nod. He doesn’t answer. Only presses against the small of your back and then moves his palm to the middle of it, keeps it there at last. He doesn’t need to speak his thoughts anyway, as little as you needed to before.

Your presence is enough. You will never become a ghost.

Talking to his parents and his brother in the past weeks helped immensely.

Somehow, the conversations killed pieces of Jungkook’s denial; and somehow, the revelation of the one he’s been hoping to return to actually being gone, led to a sense of acceptance. Easier to… well, perhaps not move on.

But easier to cope.

To realise that life needs to go on and that this way, dwelling on the past or reliving moments won’t hurt anymore one day.

And working towards his life goals didn’t hurt either. The fair is coming closer, and so is the gallery showing. He’s been working hard; and life is normalising.

You’re back to teasing and fighting and pouting and making up.

It’s nice to see.

When Jungkook comes back home from another day at his parents’, the apartment is empty. The silence is surprising, given the fact that you weren’t supposed to be absent for so long. As far as he was concerned, you were going to greet him when he came back, already here.

And he certainly returned later than he thought he would.

As he slips his shoes off and places them neatly on the side, he calls out your name to double check. Maybe you’re asleep. But you don’t respond; you’re a light sleeper. And on further inspection, he soon detects that the bedroom is vacant.

Jungkook fishes out his phone and dials immediately; you’re already on top of the list, so the five seconds save him some headache. And you picking up nearly instantly only adds to that relief.

“Hey! You home?” your voice chimes, and he relaxes, exhales, falling onto the edge of the bed weightlessly.

A hand dangles between his legs, arm propped up on his thigh, and he asks, “Where are you? I would’ve picked you up if I’d known you’re still out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t too far.”

“Where was that?”

You groan on the other side of the line, as if heaving something of significant weight, your breathing a tiny bit stagnant. He prods, “Are you okay? I can come help if you’re nearby.”

“No, I was just out, doing some shopping.”

“Sure? It’s cold as hell, too.”

“Yes, baby. I’m a big girl, I promise,” you chuckle into the phone and he joins in, nodding without you seeing, “but I’ll talk to you when I’m there. I want to show off my haul a bit.”

“Ah. Thought you hated surprises.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

The grin emerging on his face feels good. Feels freeing. You have an undeniable effect on him and he couldn’t be more enticed by its mystery.

“Alright. I’ll wait then,” he says, and you agree quickly, muttering goodbyes before the call cuts.

Hm. Okay.

Maybe he should take a shower in the meantime, prepare the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. What was it again you wanted to eat today? Risotto? Lasagna? You wanted either in some of the upcoming days. Italian, that’s for sure.

“Both not easy,” he comments to himself, snickering quietly; who would he be if he didn’t yield to your every wish?

The shirt flies into the laundry basket, the water under the showerhead warm and comforting compared to the dropping temperatures outside. It was raining again; while it has stopped, the wind still whipped his face — so you better hurry back to him carefully.

He hears the door open and fall back into its lock as he washes off the last of his shampoo, a hand sliding across his face, down to his neck and his chest. You don’t exclaim his name or announce your arrival the way you usually do.

Suspect, but probably nothing bad.

It’s okay. He’ll do it instead.

And you answer just as casually when he does. More cheerful than ever even, giving back a, “Take your time! I’m here.”

You’re a handful some days when you scare him like this, especially at such times that his mind makes up scenarios constantly.

Your absence can be mind-numbing — and since meetings often exceed the time you promised and the phone ringing is incredibly unprofessional, he does worry a little too frequently.

It’s not your fault, either.

Usually, you do exploit your position as the manager, allowing yourself a moment to message him back or let him know when you’ll be home. But sometimes you’re… gone, like this. And he hates the feeling he once lived through when you disappeared for so long, hiding at Eun’s.

“Seriously,” he starts as you meet him at the threshold to the bathroom, pushing him back inside, “will I ever not worry sick about you?”

“Sorry,” you begin frivolously, moving into him instead, reaching for his lips, “I got caught up with stuff, but…” Another peck, a hand still on his damp chest. “I’m here now.”

Jungkook isn’t too sure whatever came to possess you in these very hours between the morning and now, but he’s not opposed to it. He revels in the touch of your palm grazing his skin, down to the belly button, lightly tugging at the towel as a tease.

“Woman,” he whispers between kisses, the words growing quieter, “you’ll drive me crazy one day.” His hands come up to cradle your face, to look at you. “You scare me and then you come home to do this.”

“Mmmh, I guess so.”

You let him kiss you, let him open your mouth and push the tongue through — but the temptation doesn’t last long. Because he notices your hesitation, not because you’re unsure but rather… something else.

You want to say something. So he lets you.

“What is it?” he wonders.

“Just exasperated. Just want to show you what I shopped.”

Right. You said that already. You stepped into the apartment, dizzying his head so badly that he almost forgot.

“You have a weird way of showing that you’re tired,” Jungkook remarks, the last word dying as you push a hand beneath the towel, squeezing his ass just a little before backing away. “Honestly, babe.”

“Yes, honestly… come.”

Mysterious, this behaviour of yours. You’ve brought home stuff you needed or wanted several times, but you never seemed as enlivened by it as you do now. And you certainly never made much of a secret out of it as you are now.

And it’s not hard to guess why.

If it was a small object or a dress or a book or a plushie stuffed in one of these environment-friendly paper bags, he might not have noticed right away. But…

But what you decided to march back with today is an entirely different level of unexpected riddle. Or at least, a riddle until its eyes meet with Jungkook’s.

They’re…

They’re round and expressive. Curious and a little shy. Carry the same innocence and dark, serene night in them as Jungkook does. And the— the puppy is blinking slowly, eyes flopping a tiny bit; lets his head fall to the side for a second.

He’s so small. Alert yet gentle. A careful, dark brown Doberman watching a half naked Jungkook with peculiar interest.

Then to you, already a little used to you, and then back to some random spot again.

Maybe he’s taking in his new home. Maybe he’s trying to understand his surroundings. Probably not yet falling in love as quickly and furiously as Jungkook already is.

Certainly not having the same liquid collecting in his eyes as in his owner’s.

What did you…

Is this yours? His? Taken in to babysit? What—

You stand on the side, hands folded, waiting with your lower lip trapped with your teeth. You’re giving him a moment with the pup, Jungkook knows, removing yourself from the equation to permit the love to unfold.

But how could he ditch you anyway? How, when right now, he could crush you in his arms?

A month has passed since Gureum left. Life went on, but moments of yearning always returned — you saw it all in his eyes. The realisation that Gureum would never come back, and that nobody could replace him.

And of course you know; this right here — you aren’t trying to replace Gureum, but trying to bring new happiness and a new start into Jungkook’s life.

He mentioned this once or twice over the weeks, casually stating how he urged to love someone the way he loved his childhood companion. You put his wish into motion so quickly.

If this moment is what he thinks it is, then he doesn’t know how to digest it for now. How to swallow the mix of longing and relief, of missing somebody and meeting someone new.

The Doberman is a symbol of healing and affection. Of how you care, and of how Jungkook will once again be able to adore the same as he used to. Still does.

“Babe?” he only calls.

There’s nothing more he can murmur right now anyway. What, a thank you? Crying in the middle of the room? Kissing his appreciation into you? None of it will suffice.

“Yes?” you respond.

“There’s…” His open palm lifts, a finger loosely pointing to the focus of his attention. “There’s a dog on our couch.”

You laugh with a tender heart. “Yes. There is.”

Should he move? He doesn’t dare to. Only wipes away the dark, wet curls off his temples. Looks for a bit; watches the still figure barely fill the dip in the cushions, as if he could vanish the moment Jungkook speaks.

You are a bundle of excitement next to him, and the little thing is unbothered, not even looking when Jungkook is teetering between disbelief and wonder.

And then… just slowly, cautiously, surely, he steps forward. Courageous once you say, “Yes, say hi.” A hand already reaches midair before it retreats; should he sit beside him or drop to his knees? Pick him up and place him on his lap?

“Where did you get him from?” Jungkook asks, voice still delicate. “How long did you plan this?”

He’s wondering about a lot of things. How you picked him out of all the dogs you saw. How you chose the absolute manifestation of sweet honey, ogling up to him now that Jungkook lets his fingers reach the soft fur along the back.

He chuckles, breathless and full. Tells the newest member of the household, “So cute. You’re so freaking cute—”

Then, he picks him up, secures him in his arms, a paw on his tatted skin as he gets used to the moment. Trying to understand who he belongs to.

You finally dare to step closer; the dog already recognises your scent a tiny bit, staring at you, paw reaching for your hand when you stretch it towards him.

With kind excitement, you answer Jungkook’s questions.

“So, I was searching for a bit and then… one or two weeks ago, I spoke to a colleague at work about someone she knew who was looking for people to adopt puppies. Gave me her number and all.”

You’re distracted for a moment, delighted when the pup nudges your hand for more pets.

“And… the lady she suggested was repeatedly gushing about his eyes and all before she gave him to me?” you say, the back of the hand brushing along his back. “And on my way back I kept looking at him and realised how right she was. They reminded me of yours.”

Jungkook laughs, and you shake your head with a beam of your own, telling him, “It’s true! They’re this dark brown and huge and round and… I dunno,” you lift your shoulders, pupils flying up to your boyfriend’s, “I’ve always said you have starry eyes.”

You have; the admission is never new, but always heartbeat-increasing.

To be compared with something as gorgeous and celestial as the night sky…

“…And so,” you continue, “I thought.” You cradle the puppy’s face, but this time he retreats, rather leaning into Jungkook’s arms now with a soft whimper. Already fond. You say—

“Bam.”

It’s a simple syllable. A soft, two-letter sound. But something clicks into place immediately.

Jungkook feels it unwind inside him, as if it makes sense, as if whatever is happening is just the right thing. Just fitting to his timeline and life. This is nice. This is lovely. Worth remembering.

The ache, the doubt, the weight that followed him all these days… it all lightens, just a little.

No, Jungkook will never replace Gureum. But he can try to be a family with another one of the world's true angels; remember who he once knew as Bam’s lost brother.

Bam…

Bam. Short but just right, isn’t it?

“Bam,” he repeats, blinking away the tears, “hi.” His chest rises when he breathes in. Falls when he says, “Is it weird to say that I feel like I love him already?”

Is it?

No… of course it isn’t. No emotion that ever emerges out of a gut feeling is ever weird, is it? All it ever is and remains is real. In which sense Jungkook doesn’t need to question his emotions; can trash the question whether the newfound adoration only feels like love.

And as you watch from the other side, you so bittersweetly realise that you were oh-so-right.

Because some things don’t have to be explained. They don’t have to be questioned at all. A lot of times, things just are.

And a lot of times, when one has to ask whether they are loving… they already are.

a little (late) tribute to real life gureum, mixed with all that happened and has been happening in their lives. i guess this truly is a slice of life thing that keeps on hurting, but keeps on giving, too. idk – at least that's how i felt as i wrote and edited it. i really love them so much, y'all :') also, this was supposed to be the original banner, but i discarded it bc it spoiled too much lmao:

how did you guys like it? it's been so long, i hope it didn't disappoint. i would definitely love to hear what you think – this is truly what keeps me and this lil series going!!.. would make my day!! so leave a like/reblog/talk to me pls <3 love you!!

#<3 #jungkook fic #fav fics #alexia’s favs

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alexiajjk · 18 days ago

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CRYING AND SCREAMINGGGG WE ARE SO CLOSE 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#LIFE IS WORTH LIVING

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alexiajjk · 24 days ago

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anatomy of a vampire | 01

a young man returns to a small town he hasn't seen in years, and a house he hasn't lived in since before the last president was born, only to find that a stray cat has given birth to kittens in his closet.

pairing: vampire!jk x nerdy f veterinarian!reader (with a special interest in the science and biology aspect of the supernatural lol)

genre: sorta scifi-ish, fluff, minor angst, some smut later on

word count: 4.7k

warnings: none in this part (maybe anatomy talk/vet talk?), but there's gonna be like... inspection kink-stuff later on 🤪 more detailed warnings to come <3

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/?

You’re halfway through your lunch when Namjoon pokes his head into the break room, a stethoscope around his neck and thick-rimmed glasses low on his nose.

“Reception just got a call about a home visit.”

“Today?” you ask, your mouth full of chicken sandwich as you glance at your wristwatch. You and Namjoon are way too close for you to care about being ladylike.

“Mhm.”

You pause. Not many clinics in your small town offer home visits, and even fewer do it on short notice. For your clinic, it’s usually about an old dog being put to rest at home—incredibly sad, but not an emergency.

“Is it urgent?”

“Not on the minute, but needs done today.”

You glance at the patient chart on the table in front of you. “I think this’ll be quick. I’ll go after this one.”

“You sure?” Namjoon asks. “Technically, it’s my turn.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. You should see Oakley when he comes; he’s not very fond of me.”

Oakley, a returning patient with chronic stomach issues, has managed to spray paint you a yellowy brown on three different occasions. From both ends. It’s like he aims.

Namjoon snorts. He hasn’t been hit once.

Checking your watch again, you push the last bite of your sandwich into your mouth, chewing it while you grab the chart. Namjoon is already on his way to greet another patient and their owner, and you take a second to swallow and wipe any crumbs off your scrubs before you follow his lead, heading into the waiting area.

“Millie?” you call, smiling when a young woman rises from a chair, her red dachshund's nose practically glued to the clinic floor.

It’s two-thirty when you pull out of the clinic parking lot, the clinic’s old station wagon rattling faintly as you steer onto the main road. The address in the confirmation email is farther out than you expected but still technically within the town limits, and you watch the short apartment buildings give way to larger, more spaced-out houses as you drive.

You don’t often find yourself in this part of town these days, although you’re very familiar with at least one house here. Many Halloweens were spent here back in the day, kids dressed up as various creatures daring each other to fight through the overgrown lawn and peek inside the dark windows. Countless stories were told about the abandoned house, each one slightly more insane than the last. Of course, you were like… eight, and a large, seemingly empty white house with a big, black gable was doomed to be haunted.

Still, you’re very surprised when you stop at the red pin on your phone’s screen, and it’s outside that very house. Momo, who works the reception, must’ve forgotten to fill out the pet owner’s name on the confirmation form she sent you, so all you have is this address and a brief line of patient info.

Even though the sky is gray—fittingly enough threatening September rain—it’s not as scary as you remember. Probably because it’s not a dark Halloween night, and you’re not a kid anymore. It also doesn’t actually seem to be abandoned. To be fair, it was never really run-down aside from the lawn, but now there’s a big black SUV parked outside.

Getting out of the car, you grab the rectangular veterinary kit bag, accidentally shutting the trunk a little too hard. The sound echoes down the quiet street, letting anyone who wasn’t already aware know of your arrival. A chilly breeze has you pulling your softshell jacket tighter over your light blue scrubs as you lock the car. When you turn back to the house, you pause to take it in once more. It’s a pretty house—two-story, painted white probably a long time ago but still holding up surprisingly well. Black shutters frame the dark windows, and the tall, black gabled roof reaches impressively toward the gray sky. The lawn has either been trimmed within the last few years, or your childhood imagination really exaggerated it because you can clearly recall it looking more like a thicket with tall grass than just… an overgrown lawn. You distinctly remember more... shrubs.

Climbing the shallow steps, you stop in front of the black-painted door and raise your hand to knock. As you wait, you tilt your head back, once again letting your gaze linger on the house. Who exactly are you here to meet? Maybe it’s some introverted old woman who rarely leaves her house? Or a grumpy old man? But then again, the SUV looked awfully modern. Maybe the ancient resident has a grandchild visiting?

A short moment later, the door opens with a slight creak.

It’s not an old lady; it’s a young man. A tall young man—probably the most attractive one you’ve ever seen—looking down at you. He’s broad-shouldered and lean, visibly fit even despite the thick, black hoodie and baggy jeans he wears. You try not to stare at the shadow created in the fabric between his pecs, or the way the oversized hoodie still somehow manages to cling to the top of his bicep as he keeps one hand on the door handle. His black, relatively straight hair doesn’t look styled, just like it naturally falls into its part, the sides of it a little shorter than the top. Everything about him screams effortless, like he just wakes up looking like that.

One thing’s for sure: he wasn’t who you expected to open the door.

“Uh, hi,” you introduce yourself, telling him your name, “Did you… call for a vet?”

For some reason, he looks almost as surprised as you. “Hey. I did, yeah. I’m Jeongguk.”

Though he smiles politely, he doesn’t offer his hand for you to shake. It’s not something you dwell on. Quite a few of the pet owners you meet prefer not to shake hands.

“Come in.”

You nod and step inside, having to almost squeeze past him in the narrow hallway as he shuts the door behind you. Like always when you enter a strange man’s home alone, you say a little prayer in your head. If it came to it, you’ve got a bunch of pointy things in your bag, but you’d still prefer it if he wasn’t crazy to begin with.

As you move past him, you’re almost surprised that you don’t… smell him. Men—at least in this town—are very fond of their colognes and sprays, but you don’t catch even the slightest whiff of him. You wouldn’t say that you particularly enjoy the strong… scents, but the total lack of one from a hunk like this is almost disappointing.

When you go to slip your shoes off, he stops you.

“Keep them on,” he says, voice kept low due to the distance. Or rather, the lack thereof. “It’s… not very clean.”

There’s something in the casual smile he gives you besides an attractiveness you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s a tad of… sheepishness? It doesn’t matter; your skin still heats under his gaze

“Oh, okay,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and professional while waiting for him to take the lead. Luckily, you don’t think he notices.

Even with the heads-up, you’re not sure what surprises you more as you follow him into the house—the layers and layers of dust, or the Edwardian, neoclassical interior design. The faded, beige walls are paneled, and as he leads you toward a staircase, you catch a glimpse of what appears to be the living room through an open archway. In it, you spot a pale green velvet sofa and two upholstered armchairs, fitting right in. There’s also a rectangular fireplace, a gold-framed mirror above it, and what catches your interest the most: a chandelier. Its size is impressive, and so is the fact that it looks like it was made for real, live candles. The same goes for the brass wall sconces placed on either side of the fireplace. You’ve only ever seen those in movies.

“They’re up here,” he says, and you nod, reaching for the wooden railing as you follow him up the stairs.

The steps creak loudly beneath your weight—another reminder of just how old this house probably is. At the landing, he turns, leading you to a bedroom. It’s surprisingly small for a house this size, but it’s cozy and warm in a way you weren’t expecting. You guess the clouds outside have eased up a little because the smallest ray of sunlight filters through the practically sheer beige curtains and highlights the dust particles floating in the air.

The four-poster bed is made from dark wood, its canopy rails bare and the headboard curled softly. Like most things, the white sheets appear pretty much untouched, and the only real signs of life are the footsteps disturbing the dust on the floor. You've followed a path all the way from the door, and when you look closer, you see paw prints venturing outside it.

Noticing your lingering gaze, Jeongguk scratches the back of his neck.

“I haven’t been here in a while.”

You figured. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here since… the late 1800s. Although it’s certainly a stylistic choice—and one you wouldn’t have expected from someone so young and otherwise modern-looking—it has its charm. Even if you’re not sure there’s even electricity or running water.

“I arrived earlier today and found them here,” Jeongguk continues, approaching a standalone wooden wardrobe placed against the wall. One door is already slightly ajar, but when he carefully opens it wider, you see them. The cat with kittens. “I read that you’re not supposed to move them.”

The mother cat, who looks to be all black, has made a little nest on top of a crisp white shirt that’s fallen from its hanger above.

“Oh,” you breathe, crouching slowly to get a better look. “They’re brand new.”

“Yeah. And I think one is smaller than the others.”

Your eyes travel over the small beings, each with varying patches of white to go with the black. None of them, from what you can tell, have even opened their eyes yet. The mother cat stops licking one of the kittens to give you a warning hiss. You listen, rising to your feet and turning away, a plan already in mind.

“Okay, I brought some food that might help lure her out,” you say, setting the bag down on the floor and crouching to reach into it. “This stuff’s usually pretty irresistible…”

But when you look back at the man—a jar gripped in your hand—he’s already holding the mother cat. Just straight around her middle, as if he’s never held a cat before. She doesn’t seem to mind very much, just hangs there, looking around.

Jeongguk looks at you, a little surprised too.

“Oh, okay. She seems to like you better,” you smile. You can’t help but think that he looks… sweet. A big, clearly very muscular and attractive man who’s liked by animals? It’s definitely both a green flag and a personal weakness for you.

The food goes back into the bag, and you reach for the equipment you’ll need instead. With a stethoscope around your neck, a small kitchen scale, and a thermometer, you kneel in front of the wardrobe. In the meantime, Jeongguk sits down on the bed, the cat perched on his lap. He keeps his large hands around her, gently keeping her in place in case she changes her mind.

Very gently, you reach for the smallest kitten first. It squirms in your hands, mouth open and paws sticking out in a silent protest.

“Sex is notoriously tricky to tell on kittens, especially this small, so I’m not even gonna try,” you say with a smile, giving the kitten a general once-over before focusing on its face. It’s a sweet little thing, crying a little as you inspect it. This one is mostly black but with two white front paws.

“Well, I’d definitely say they’re only a day or two old. This one has a suckle reflex but hasn’t opened its eyes yet. That usually happens between day five and fourteen. The umbilical stump is still attached too, and that usually falls off around day two to four.”

“So that’s… good?” Jeongguk asks, and when you look at him, the mother cat is bumping her head against his abdomen. He peers down at her on his lap, extending his veiny hand in a wordless offer. She accepts it, rubbing her head against his palm and letting him pet her.

“Yeah. That’s normal.”

You return your focus to the little being in your hands, carefully looking into its mouth again to check its gums and palate.

“Pink gums and no cleft. That’s good, too.”

With one hand, you grab the stethoscope from your neck, putting the earpieces in place. Getting a clear heart or lung reading on kittens this tiny isn’t easy. Their heart rate is fast, making it easy to miss abnormalities, and their small, wriggling bodies make it hard to even position the chestpiece properly in the first place.

Focusing, you hold the kitten still, placing the stethoscope on the left side of its chest just behind the elbow. Then you listen closely, trying to ignore the soft purring from the adult cat.

It sounds… good. Alright, at least. Shifting the stethoscope slightly, you first listen to one lung and then the other. You don’t notice anything abnormal there, either.

“Heart and lungs sound okay,” you declare, slipping the stethoscope back around your neck.

“What’s next?”

“Temperature,” you answer, reaching for the digital thermometer.

“What should their temperature be?”

“Somewhere between thirty-six and thirty-six point five degrees Celsius.”

“Isn’t that a little low? I mean, compared to a human?”

“Adult cats are more similar to humans, but kittens generally run a little colder,” you explain, focusing on getting the reading right. “They don’t have the ability to regulate their body temperature properly for the first couple of weeks.”

The thermometer beeps.

“Thirty-six point two,” you mumble. “So that’s within the range. A little low, but not necessarily dangerous.”

With one hand, you reach for the kitchen scale, setting it on the floor in front of you. It powers on, and once it’s ready, you place the kitten on it, keeping your hand floating above in case the little animal tries to wiggle off the tray.

The number settles, and you read it out loud. “Eighty-one grams.”

“Too small?” Jeongguk wonders.

“On the lower side, but not dangerously so. At least not yet.”

You take the kitten and carefully place it back in the makeshift nest for the moment. Before reaching for another kitten to examine in the same way, you grab a small notebook in your bag, quickly jotting down the numbers so you don’t forget them.

Jeongguk looks on as you inspect the rest of the four kittens, occasionally asking another question. It’s not unusual for pet owners to ask questions, but considering these aren’t even his cats—and from what you gathered, he only found them today—it makes your chest warm. Not everyone would go to such lengths for stray cats. It also doesn’t help your growing soft spot that you get to talk about animals and their anatomy to someone who seems to want to listen. After all, you’re a bit of a nerd, and this is your number one fascination.

One by one, the kittens get their clean bill of health and are placed back on the shirt, and then you shift your focus to their mother. She’s standing on Jeongguk’s lap, still headbutting his chest. While she’s preoccupied, you quietly reach into your bag for the microchip scanner, but the moment you try to get close, she notices and hisses.

“Give it a try, please?” You hold the scanner out to Jeongguk, keeping as much distance as you can. “Press this button and move the scanner over her, focusing on her neck and back.”

Jeongguk takes the scanner from your outreached hand, doing as you instructed and pressing the button. It beeps, and he begins to move it over her.

“Like this?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed almost angrily as he focuses.

You nod encouragingly. “Yeah.”

“Is it to see if she has an owner?”

“Yes. But sometimes, even if they are microchipped, there's not a registered owner. But we can hope.”

He continues to search for a chip, but when nothing happens, he looks at you with those dark eyes, silently asking what to do.

“Try her belly and even her legs. Sometimes, they migrate.”

Adjusting his grip on the scanner, he moves it lower.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” he says a moment later, handing the scanner back to you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking it to put it back in the bag. Although disappointed, you’re not surprised. “Would you mind helping me check her out? She seems to really like you. A whole lot better than she likes me, at least.”

He matches the soft smile you give him. “Sure.”

“Okay, well, she seems to be in okay condition, but I need to rule out any birth-related injuries.

“What do I do?” he asks, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, the cat still happy to receive his attention.

“Just… hold her like that… Yes, exactly. And with your other hand, move her tail away for me?”

A little awkwardly, he follows your instructions again, and while you don’t think the cat particularly enjoys it, she doesn’t fight it. You move closer, trying to get a better look while doing your best not to stare at his veiny hands instead. In any other setting, they’d be way too much of a distraction, but knowing that this cat depends on you to evaluate her health, you divert your gaze.

“Alright… I don’t see anything... unusual, no swelling, no blood, no discharge. If she were injured, you’d usually spot it, but she’s not thrilled with me, so I won’t push it,” you chuckle, leaning back.

Having animals dislike you is unfortunately part of the job. Sometimes, it hurts your heart a little, but when you remember that it’s easy for an animal to associate the scrubs or equipment with something unpleasant and maybe even painful, it makes more sense. Briefly, you wonder if this cat has ever been to a vet or if her dislike for you stems from something else. It’s definitely normal for new mothers to have a bit of an attitude, but you’d think that would include every human in the room. Or maybe she doesn’t dislike you in particular; maybe she just really likes Jeongguk. Which... you know, fair.

Almost as if sensing that the examination is over, the black cat jumps down from Jeongguk’s lap, leaping past you to get to her babies.

“Alright,” you say, wiping your hands on your pants before you stand up. “It’s important not to disturb them too much, but they’ll still need some supervision—especially the small one—just to make sure they continue to eat and grow. And they’ll need a better place to nest, somewhere a little warmer, softer, and less… dusty. No offense.”

Jeongguk chuckles, standing up as well and brushing some cat hairs from his hoodie. “None taken.”

“So, if you want me to, I can take them with me. We have a foster program and a few great volunteers.”

Jeongguk looks down at you, his brows furrowed in confusion this time. “I thought they were too small to be moved?”

“Yeah,” you nod, bending down to quickly gather the rest of the used equipment and put it back in the bag. “Ideally, they wouldn’t need to be. But I understand if you can’t or don't want to look after a stray cat and her kittens.”

“No, it’s… uh… It’s fine,” he says, appearing to land in a decision and sticking by it, his eyes traveling to the little bodies nestled into the white shirt. “It’s not that hard, right? Just keep an eye on them? If you think I can do it, of course. I already have a litter box.”

You blink, a little surprised. “You just happened to have a litter box?”

“No, I asked some neighbors after I called you. I figured you'd have some tips about the other stuff. Like food and such.”

Your smile grows as you watch him. He is… oddly endearing. “Yeah. Of course,” you say, your voice softening. The fewer cats and kitten taking up the very limited space at the volunteers', the better. “Okay.”

You begin drafting an email to send to him. It includes everything you've talked about plus cat food recommendations for the mother cat and a link to a cat bed that’s cheap but comfortable enough for a nursing litter. While you write, you talk him through everything again, like what to watch for, when to weigh them, and what to do if anything seems off.

He asks a few questions, making it very clear—if it wasn’t already—that he doesn’t really have any experience with animals. While he’s never appeared scared or nervous during your visit, you can tell that he’s not quite sure what to do. He moves slowly, almost a little awkwardly around the cats, but it’s more like he doesn’t want to scare them.

“You really like animals,” he points out, watching you tuck your notebook back into the bag.

You glance up at him. His tone isn’t mocking but more... curious. Still, you nod, a little self-conscious of how nerdy you can be.

“Yeah, animals are incredible. Not only because they’re such good companions—some of them at least—but, they’re so fascinating? How they function and how they’ve evolved.”

But there’s something else in his curious gaze that you finally pick up on, and it dawns on you.

“You think I’m a freak too, don’t you?” you say with a smile, pulling the stethoscope you’d forgotten to pack from around your neck and tucking it into the bag as well.

“No, no,” he shakes his head.

You lift an eyebrow. “But you know about it? My paper?”

His eyes are so dark. “Yeah…”

You look away, trying not to let it affect your professionalism. Speaking about it brings up memories you’d rather not be reminded of. “I thought you said you hadn’t been here in forever?”

It’s weird, right? If he doesn’t live here and hasn’t been around in a long time, how would he know the gossip?

“Town called a few years ago. About the electrical wiring needing to be upgraded. So I came here to fix it.”

Oh. That makes sense, you guess. A few years ago was when it first happened. That’s probably also why the yard looked different from what you remembered.

“And you heard about it?”

He smiles apologetically. “Yeah. It’s a small town, I guess.”

“It’s not like I think Ariel is real. Or that dragons roam the sky or that Dracula lives in a dark castle somewhere, wearing a black cape over a white, frilly shirt,” you defend, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “I just wrote about how much we don’t actually know about the living organisms around us and how some of the 'supernatural' traits aren't really that crazy, anatomically speaking.”

“No, I get that,” he assures, sounding like he genuinely didn’t mean to upset you. “I found it very interesting.”

“So is that why you looked so surprised to see me? Because you recognized me?”

“No. Or… well, yeah. I spoke to the receptionist, and she told me a man’s name—Namjoon, I think—would come.”

“Oh.”

“But I did also vaguely recognize you, I think. From the image.”

Lifting your wrist, you glance at the watch. “I should start to head back. Lock the clinic up.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Jeongguk says, and when you meet his dark eyes again, he looks genuine. “I don’t think you’re a freak, I promise.”

“It’s alright,” you say, offering him a quick smile. “I’m not supposed to be out this long anyway. I have to get back and finish up the bill. I’ll email it to you along with the advice, is that okay?”

He nods, clearly accepting that he did in fact upset you to some degree. “Okay. Thank you for the help.”

You smile again, relaxing your shoulders and taking a deep breath. Maybe you should cut him some slack. Technically, he wasn’t even the one to bring your paper up; that was all you. And besides very, very handsome, you haven’t once thought of him as anything other than sweet.

"No problem."

The drive back to the clinic is quiet. You don’t even turn the prehistoric radio on. It doesn’t matter because your thoughts are loud enough anyway, circling back to one thing. One thing and one person.

The paper you wrote in vet school was a mistake. Not that it was bad per se—it was a perfectly science-based paper, focused on the more unusual biological traits found in the animal kingdom.

Unfortunately, you made the grave mistake of connecting some of those traits to various mythical creatures and their ‘unbelievable’ biology. Some of your peers—predominantly men—found it absolutely ridiculous and teased you for it. The more you tried to defend yourself, the funnier they thought it was.

You’d think it at least would’ve stayed within whatever small circle vet med is, but when your small town happens to be known specifically for the vet med program, a surprisingly large chunk of the population has some connection to it. You’re lucky that not many wish to stay in town after graduating, or you would’ve been last on the list to get a job. You still remember your current boss’s inspecting eyes as she interviewed you, trying to make sure you weren’t actually batshit crazy. That was maybe five or so years ago, and you haven’t really had to think about the paper in probably at least a year.

Until today. Again, it wasn’t Jeongguk’s fault, you don’t think he even meant for it to be brought up. It still caught you off guard, though, because even if you don’t know him, he didn’t give off the same vibe as the people who laughed at you. And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. About his build, and how the oversized clothes hung off his strong, muscular body. Or his large, veiny hands as he gently pet the mother cat. His dark eyes, sharp jaw, and strong eyebrows. Even his nose—with its straight bridge and softly rounded tip, creating such a striking, masculine profile—had a way of completely mesmerizing you.

Not only is he probably the most attractive man you’ve seen in a long time—maybe ever, but he seemed… warm. You wouldn’t expect a man like him to care for a stray cat and her newborn kittens, much less call a vet out to help, but he did.

Back at the clinic, you take a seat in front of the desktop computer, typing your notes into the chart and updating the bill. Besides the obviously tragic parts of dealing with sick and injured animals, the worst part is probably billing the owners. You need money to live just like everyone else, but you’ll always feel wrong charging worried owners to care for their family members. Even now, as you’re adding the services to… Jeon Jeongguk’s bill, you think about how the cats don’t even belong to him.

The cursor hovers over his name. Who is he? How did he come to be the owner of that house, and why own it if he’s not living there or at least visiting regularly? Why bother even fixing the electrical wiring if it’s just gonna stay empty? And just how long had it been empty?

The questions whirl in your head. Though it’s not really any of your business why he returned, maybe you could’ve at least asked him where he’s from? It would’ve been acceptable small talk, right? Could you also have asked why he felt the need to take care of the cats, even when you offered to take them off his hands, or would that have been rude?

Realizing that you’re not getting anywhere, you bill him for a standard home visit of half an hour—even though you stayed closer to one—and for the gas just so you don’t lose money on the visit. You don’t add the same day fee or charge him for the used materials.

author's note: i hope you liked it and are excited for the rest because i think it's gonna be good!!! i also had some moodboard pics of the house made so let me know if you'd like to see them <3

#aaaaaah cant wait to read it #jungkook fic

1K notes · View notes

alexiajjk · 29 days ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 5 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 15.6k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, as usual, super dreamy jk 😞 some realizations and some jk and nb!oc lore. SPOILER AHEAD DONT READ IF U DONT WANNA KNOW [ explicit sexual content: mature language, very indulgent & descriptive c*nniling*s (oral sex, female receiving) 🤩 ] also if u wanna know what her tat looks like this is it in my head

NOTES haii!! were back more than ever!! ive got nothing to say but enjoy!!!!!!! and lemme know ur thoughts in my inbox mwa mwamwa happy reading!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

The first time somebody told you they liked you was in year eight. You were only twelve, and there was this guy in year 10, Gwanshik, who apparently fancied you to be his girlfriend. You’ve had crushes way before entering middle school, but they were mostly just the guys you saw on your TV. When Gwanshik asked if you could both hang out together after school that one afternoon by the lockers, you remember saying no.

No, because… the whole thing felt weird. You couldn’t comprehend the fact that a boy liked you in a romantic sense. You couldn’t wrap your head around going out with somebody and what… spend all your time together with them? It was too much for your twelve-year-old brain, and since then, you started avoiding Gwanshik as much as possible, and thankfully, he didn’t seem like he wanted to be with you that much because the “chasing” only lasted for two days.

The two days felt contradictory, though. You sure didn’t want a relationship at the time, but it did make you feel something new. You felt… wanted. You didn’t even like Gwanshik. His hair was weird and he was two years older than you and your friend at the time told you he was going through a lot of girls – but those two days he tried to make an effort; tried to catch you at the lockers or waited outside of your classroom and even tried to buy you pudding for lunch, you felt… seen. You felt a sort of validation. Gwanshik made you feel special for all those two days until he decided you weren’t really worth his time.

As much as you felt relieved that he wasn’t going after you anymore, there was some kind of bitterness that settled in your heart when he did stop pursuing you.

That same bitterness crawls in your heart whenever you occasionally stalk an ex on Instagram from a burner account and see that they were seeing someone new again, and strangely enough, the same feeling finds its way in your chest when you watch Jungkook leading Heesu up to the podium with a hand hovering over her waist, a gentle smile painted on his lips as they go up to face the audience together.

“They look good, don’t you think?”

You almost jump at Taemu’s voice beside you, having completely forgotten he was there.

Tonight’s the company gala, a celebration for the Kang Tech and Blue Nexus collab that Jungkook and Heesu are leading. It’s only been about an hour, and you’ve pretty much been with Taemu the whole time.

“Y-yeah, they do,” you smile at him, nodding. You clear your throat before looking ahead again, sipping on the champagne you don’t like the taste of.

“I heard they’re dating.” Taemu suddenly says, dropping into a whisper.

You don’t know how the words exactly register, but you feel slightly dissociative as you respond with, “Oh, are they?”

Taemu nods, glancing back to the stage where Heesu starts to deliver a well-crafted speech. She looks absolutely magnificent, with a silver gown that fits her like a glove. Her long, silky hair stops at her waist, and the way she speaks grabs everybody’s attention in the room.

“Nah, it’s just a rumor. But the Jeons and Kangs are close, though, and you know how that is.”

You wish Taemu would stop talking.

“Yep.” you give him a nod again, pursing your lips into a tight smile.

You try to drown out the conversation, listening in to the bits of Kang Heesu’s speech – something about innovation and future – and try to convince yourself that it ruffles your interest. But truthfully, you’d rather hear it than listen to some gossip Jungkook already disputed awhile ago.

It’s weird to have people carry these stories about him and his personal life – and you get how he can be a spectacle. He’s a Jeon, after all. His family is a conglomerate. But you know him… you know Jungkook. You value your friendship enough to know that he shouldn’t be a subject of people’s entertainment just because he comes from a certain lineage.

As it’s his turn to speak, you can’t help but focus on him, and you mean in a way that everybody just suddenly blurs out, and it’s all Jungkook that only matters.

He’s wearing his usual black suit, and his long hair is slick this time unlike all the times in your apartment complex where it’s messy and he’s wearing some Nike slides and shorts.

And whoever said that the eyes can focus so much better than a camera consciously is going to hell because just as you thought about how Jungkook looks like a dream tonight – your gaze slides to the woman beside him once again, Kang Heesu.

Then, you can’t help but think that they really do look good together, as per Taemu’s words.

As per everybody’s words, and probably, thoughts.

Rumors aside, or if Jungkook hadn’t told you that they weren’t dating at all, you’d think they would make a visually striking couple. It’s there for everybody to see, and everyone in this room must think so definitely. They’re both young and work in the same industry and their families are close – it wouldn’t be a shock if they actually are a thing.

You remember what you told Sol the past week. How Jungkook is majorly out of your league. You look at him now and sure, it’s the same person you hang out with back at home – the same man who laughs with his eyes crinkling, the same man who intently listens to you talking about whatever, and smiling shyly when you ask him about his day. The same man with admirable humility despite being him.

But ultimately, his world is here. This grandiose, larger-than-life, world.

And he looks so good in it.

“...Blue Nexus and Kang Tech as a team will continue to serve you going forward. Thank you.”

Jungkook and Heesu smile in front of the crowd while they stand close together, and for a second, it almost feels like you’re watching from behind glass. The picture of the man in your apartment no longer feels like he was real, or that he could be.

You don’t say it out loud, but some part of you knows. Jungkook belongs here in a way you never will.

As Jungkook and Heesu wrap up their speech, the room fills with applause, and soon, the crowd starts to settle back into conversation and cocktails, and you’re just about to look around for Sol and Junhwi when Taemu calls your name.

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?” He asks with a small smile on his lips.

You grimace inside at the question.

“I’ll try to see if I am,” you tell him. Taemu’s face visibly drops, and you instantly feel bad. You don’t know why you do, but you scramble for something just as quickly. “My schedule’s a bit hard to work around this week, but I’ll text you. What’s it about, anyway?”

You don’t miss the way Taemu’s smile picks up again at your promising words.

“I have two tickets for a tech expo. We can go if you like?” He arches a brow at you, trying to gauge your face.

You nod slowly. “That sounds interesting.”

“Yeah, it is. Would be nice if you can go.” He sends you a somewhat sheepish smile.

You chuckle.

“You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“I don’t know. Which one do you like? Subtle or straightforward guys?”

It prompts you to laugh some more, making Taemu join in. Somehow, the conversation puts you in place. Suddenly, you’re not thinking about Jungkook or Heesu or some Little Mermaid shit about how you’re not a part of his world.

You’re about to say something in response when your phone beeps in your purse.

“One sec,” You hold up your hand while Taemu hums. Unexpectedly, a message from Jungkook welcomes you when you took your phone out and turned it on.

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:35pm]: Hey

Well maybe the Little Mermaid drama is not over just yet.

You look up at Taemu. “I’ll just…”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Taemu smiles and nods. “I’ll just go see Min for a bit. See you around, yeah?”

You give him a small smile, glancing at Min – someone from the same department as his – across the room, stepping back a little farther. When Taemu leaves, you turn your phone on again to type a reply.

You [11:35pm]: hi

Not even a few seconds later, and Jungkook comes in with a response.

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:35pm]: I saw you just now. Was just about to say hi but you were talking to someone?

You [11:35pm]: yeah. its taemu You [11:35pm]: remember my coworker

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:37pm]: Interesting

Your brows furrow, intrigued.

You [11:37pm]: whats interesting abt it

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:38pm]: Nothing in particular

You [11:39pm]: now thats interesting

You feel a certain curl to your stomach. It’s not unpleasant at all, just something you’d rather brush off. Jungkook can’t be jealous of Taemu of all people – and you can’t deduce that based off one text that says “interesting” in response to you saying you were just talking with Taemu.

Yeah.

So you physically shrug it off.

You [11:39pm]: but your speech is way more interesting. you look and sound great!! congrats on the launch btw!! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:40pm]: Thank you. And your emoji looks very interesting

That earns a chuckle from you.

See, it was nothing. You think to yourself. Jungkook was not jealous and he’s just being his usual self.

You [11:40pm]: its not an emoji its an emoticon

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:40pm]: That makes me very curious. Wanna hear more about it Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:41pm]: Come hang out with me

You almost thought you read that wrong.

You [11:41pm]: here?

Unit 446 (Jeon Jungkook) [11:42pm]: I’m at the rooftop actually. But I’ll come down there in a while. Where are you?

You have no idea where he’s going with this, but you find yourself typing a reply, anyway.

You [11:43pm]: ohh dont bother. I’ll come up there myself You [11:43pm]: would be nice to get some fresh air 🥴

When you head toward the elevator, you catch your reflection in the mirrored doors – hair a little messy from the night, heels already starting to hurt. You press the button anyway.

The wind blows your dress away and the cold of the night hits your bare skin as you navigate the empty space of the rooftop – which is not so empty anymore as you spot a tall figure by the glass railings, adorning a black suit. You could’ve mistaken it for anybody else as they all men at the party wear the same thing, but you couldn’t have taken Jeon Jungkook for anybody else.

Not when even the lines of his back feel way too familiar by now.

You’re caught off guard, though, when he shifts slightly – just enough to raise a hand. At first, you don’t realize what he’s doing, until he takes a slow drag, and smoke slips around his head, curling into the air like it’s got nowhere else to be.

“Smoke break?” you say, breaking the silence as you walk toward him. You catch a whiff of it in the air.

“Oh, hey.” Jungkook turns to look at you, the cigarette tucked between his middle and pointer finger. From the looks of it, he must’ve lit it a while ago. When you glance back up at him, he offers a warm smile. “Do you want one?” he asks casually, reaching for the lapel of his jacket.

You shake your head before he can take out – presumably – a pack of cigarettes. You wouldn’t have guessed he had one tucked away earlier, not when he was standing on that podium, all polished and composed.

“I don’t smoke.”

Jungkook looks slightly taken aback. You’re about to ask why, but he just nods to himself and puts his hand back at his side. Then he flicks the cigarette away, stepping on it with the heel of his shoe. The lingering smell clings to the air between you, but the breeze helps carry it off, little by little.

“You could be fined for littering, you know?” You joke.

Jungkook’s mouth slacks as he looks at you again, and you’re sure he was about to retaliate, probably pick up your joke and keep the banter, but he disarms you when he speaks his next words.

“You look beautiful.” He says it low, his voice dipping a little deeper as his eyes trail down your body. If you’re not mistaken, his gaze lingers a second longer on your chest – and you remember, quite clearly, how grateful you were that you believed that one push-up bra ad on Instagram. It really did wonders with the square neckline of the dress.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You say, arching a brow. It makes Jungkook laugh. He walks towards a bench, and naturally, you follow.

Jungkook’s the first to settle into his seat, and you try to ignore the way your heart does a weird little flip when he looks up at you, his hand instinctively lifting to hover over your back as you move to sit beside him.

And instantly, the cold of the night is whisk away by his warm presence. It’s not even that much, probably just an illusion, but Jungkook feels like a furnace on a winter night sometimes and you wonder how it’d feel like to bask in it.

Maybe if you weren’t too drunk that night when you cuddled up together on his couch, you would’ve understood. You do remember, though, the very brief moment of his strong arms around you, tight but comfortable, big and strong…

You shake your head internally.

Hah.

As much as you like to believe you can walk away from that memory like it was just another Tuesday, you can’t. Unfortunately.

“I didn’t know you smoke.”

You’re not sure why you bring it up. Maybe it’s a way to keep things from feeling too… intimate, sitting this close to him. But the moment it slips out, it feels borderline personal – maybe even invasive – and you regret it almost instantly.

You’re just about to steer the conversation elsewhere when Jungkook leans back against the seat. The moonlight hits his face just right, the shadows of his lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks.

He really doesn’t look so bad himself, you think. But who are you kidding—he deserves a better compliment than that.

“I don’t smoke that much anymore. But these things…” Jungkook trails off, gaze flicking away for a second. You bite your lip, worried you might’ve touched something too personal.

But he keeps going. “These things take a lot out of me. Nerves. I don’t know. Big crowds stress me out. And they’re gonna publish articles about tonight, and maybe I’ve said this already, but I’ve never really liked public attention all that much.”

You blink up at him.

It’s strange, because all this time, you’ve always claimed to know Jungkook – because, technically, you do. You’re friends. He knows about the cat you secretly kept from your landlord two years ago, knows that you hate your job, knows about the disposable chopsticks you hoard from different restaurants for absolutely no reason, knows that your Sunday uniform is that worn-out white Elmo shirt from high school, and knows your favorite color is baby blue.

He knows so many little things about you. So naturally, you should know him too… right?

But the thing is, as much as you think you do, you realize now – you’ve never actually known him past a certain point. He’s shared bits and pieces: how his favorite part of town is Hongdae, how he could eat bungeoppang for weeks. But aside from the surface-level stuff – the things you’ve asked about – he’s never really offered up anything deeper. Never really talked about himself in the ways that matter.

Like his job. How he got into it. The pressure that must come with it. Hell, you didn’t even know he smoked. That one really caught you off guard, because if there’s one thing you’ve always associated Jungkook with, it’s how damn good he smells.

But what really gets you isn’t the smoking. It’s the nerves. The fact that he gets nervous. Not that you thought he was above feeling something as basic as that – but he’s always carried himself with this kind of ease, this quiet confidence, like he knew exactly who he was and where he stood. It never occurred to you that someone like him could feel… less than sure. That he might need something, anything, to steady himself.

“I— yeah. That makes sense,” you nod, eyes fixed ahead, voice softer than before.

You’re still sitting beside the same Jungkook. Still in the same night air. But there’s something different now, something settling inside you that you can’t quite name. You’re learning these new pieces of him slowly, like catching glimpses of something just under the surface. And for the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel so far away.

Maybe he never really was. Maybe it’s just that you were looking at him from a place too high up.

“Does it… does it get bad?” You ask gently. Jungkook looks at you curiously. “I mean, the press. I imagine you must’ve been bearing it since you were a kid.”

Jungkook nods, and the smile he gives you next doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“My brother took most of the heat when we were young. When I was away in the US, they stopped bringing me up in the articles. And, uh…” he chuckles, settling a bit deeper into the seat. “I haven’t really told you about this yet, but I was never meant to work in the company. Until my brother decided to take up law—and there’s only two of us.”

You try not to look too surprised. “Oh…”

Jungkook crosses his arms, brow furrowing. “It was never going to be me, and I didn't take that well. Anyway, I sold my first software to Vision when I was a sophomore – the top rival of Blue Nexus until now. Pissed my dad off a lot because it became a huge success.” He snorts, but there’s no humor behind it.

You want to ask a million things. But something in his tone, the careful way he’s choosing his words, tells you not to push. So you stay quiet. You let him speak on his own terms.

You’re not oblivious to the gossip surrounding Jungkook and Mr. Jeon. You’ve overheard your fair share of whispers tonight – speculations about why “Mr. Jeon’s son is only interim CTO,” or when he’s going to finally hand over the reins to his son. Everyone talks about it like it’s inevitable. Like it’s some corporate fairytale they’re waiting to unfold.

But instead of digging into that, you glance at Jungkook, voice gentle.

“What’s he like? Your dad, I mean…”

It takes him a moment.

“He’s a tough man,” Jungkook says, breathing in sharply. You see his shoulders stiffen. “But I still really want him to be proud of me. It’s a complicated feeling. This is why I get too nervous about this stuff. I take pride in my work, I like what I do, you know— but sometimes…”

“Sometimes…” you echo softly.

“Sometimes I think I could do better.”

Your heart presses against your ribs, caught in a mix of protectiveness and ache.

You don’t think. Your words just come out.

“I think you’re doing great, Jungkook,” you say, voice quiet but sure. Your hand lifts instinctively to rest on his shoulder, but you hesitate halfway and pull it back to your lap instead. “I mean… I haven’t studied the technicalities of your work yet – pun intended – but I think you’re really good at what you do. People can see the effort you put into the things you care about. I don’t know about your dad, but I think that’s… really admirable.”

There’s a pause. And then another.

You start to spiral. Maybe you said too much. Maybe he didn’t want reassurance, just someone to listen. You should’ve asked first. Should’ve waited to see if he even wanted your opinion. God. He probably didn’t need a pep talk tonight of all nights—

“Thank you.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks, __. You’re the first one to tell me I’m doing a good job so far.”

Your jaw drops slightly. What?

It must’ve slipped out loud, because Jungkook laughs – really laughs, his chest shaking with it. It’s the first time all night that he’s sounded truly unguarded.

“Yeah. I appreciate it,” he says again, softer this time.

“Really?” you blink. “That’s… tough, bro.”

“Bro?” he says, incredulous. You nod solemnly. “You’re cute,” he murmurs.

You feel the warmth flood your cheeks instantly.

“Hey,” you say, needing to shift the moment. Jungkook hums in response. “You know that feeling when you’re in high places – like rooftops – and you get the weird urge to jump?”

Jungkook raises a brow. “That’s… concerning.”

You wave him off. “No, not like that. It’s not suicidal or anything. Just… this curious impulse.”

“There are literally a thousand movies that show what happens when you jump off tall buildings,” he says dryly.

“Well, duh.” You roll your eyes. He laughs again, and you notice something unspoken in the way his posture eases. The tension he carried earlier seems to slowly dissolve into the night air. It makes you smile, quietly pleased that maybe, somehow, you helped.

“You know what I’m thinking right now?” you ask.

He eyes you warily. “I hope you’re not gonna say you want us to jump.”

“Close,” you scoot closer, and he doesn’t move away. If anything, he seems to lean into it. “I was thinking more land activities. Maybe we should go around town.”

“Right now?”

You make a face. “I mean, you might be busy.”

“I already socialized enough to last me through next month. I’m fried.” Jungkook sighs, and it’s so genuinely weary that you almost laugh. But you bite back a grin instead. “You wanna go for a drive?” he asks.

You flash him a bright smile, and with no hesitation, tell him, “I’d love that.”

They say when you’re having too good of a day, time flies fast.

You didn’t know Jungkook liked bands. And you definitely didn’t know he could sing. You’re not keeping track, but it’s been about two hours since the two of you slipped away from the party – armed with a stolen bottle of champagne and a badly packed plate of hors d'oeuvres, thanks to Jungkook, who remembered you saying you liked their mini quiches.

You didn’t really have a destination in mind when you left. Every time Jungkook asked where you wanted to go, you just shrugged and said, wherever – until the car eventually rolled to a stop on an unfamiliar street that smelled like salt and sea.

You both realized you were by the beach the moment you cracked open the doors and stepped out of the car.

“This is perfect,” you say, unable to contain the smile spreading across your face. “It’s been so long since I’ve gone to the beach.”

“You know where we are?” Jungkook asks, falling into step beside you.

The beach isn’t anything extravagant – just sand and sea – but the breeze is crisp, the air smells clean, and something about the quiet feels right.

“I have no clue,” you admit, glancing at him with a grin. “But it’s nice here, right? Who cares?”

Jungkook eyes you like he’s about to object, but then he just chuckles under his breath.

There’s a narrow bridge up ahead that leads to a small staircase descending onto the sand. You head toward it with a bounce in your step, eager to feel ground crunch beneath your heels. As soon as your foot touches the first step, you feel a hand gently settle against your back.

“Careful,” Jungkook murmurs behind you.

It’s just a reminder. A quiet one. But the brush of his palm against your dress, the low dip in his voice – it sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the weather.

You shake it off quickly and make it down to the sand. The sea is calm, the tide gently kissing the line of black sand just a few meters from where you stand.

��It’s freezing,” you mutter, hugging your arms to your chest. “This doesn’t make any sense. It’s supposed to be summer.”

You gather up the skirt of your dress and plop down on a patch of dry sand. Jungkook follows, but before he settles beside you, he slips off his suit jacket and holds it out.

“Oh, no. I’m okay,” you say quickly, shaking your head and gesturing for him to keep it.

He pauses. “Do you know how many people die from hypothermia?”

“Like… twenty-five?”

“No. Twenty-four thousand a year.”

Your eyes shoot wide. “Wait. No fucking way. In South Korea? Or globally?”

Jungkook holds your gaze for a beat – then cracks up, grinning as he doubles over slightly from laughing. “Yeah, okay. No. I just made that up.”

You squint at him in disbelief. “Wow… you got jokes now.”

He just shakes his head, still grinning, clearly pleased with himself. You throw him a mock glare, but it doesn’t last long – not when he nudges a mini quiche toward you like a peace offering.

You reach for the bottle of champagne, only to realize you have nothing to pour it into, until Jungkook, already reading you like a book, says, “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Jungkook watches as you chug on the bottle, and thank god he got the white wine because red wine makes you drunk and you aren’t planning on getting drunk tonight – especially not with your track record.

You pass the bottle to Jungkook, looking ahead to watch the dark of the night. It’s probably around 2 am at this point, but you don’t bother confirming because why would you? It doesn’t matter what time it is, anyway. It feels like you’ve been in a tight spot all week, and today is the reward of all that.

You realized you haven’t taken time to relax at all. The past few months had just been work, work, and work – as if you’re completely succumbing to your fate of being a corporate slave.

“It’s nice, right? You’re having fun?” you ask Jungkook, turning your body to him.

You guess it’s easy to assume Jungkookls got everything under control. It’s in the way he carries himself – so quietly confident, so composed, like the weight of the world never quite touches him. He didn’t lay it all out for you back at the party, but you understood very well. You heard what he meant when he spoke about his father, about his work, about everything that makes him feel like he’s constantly trying to measure up.

He gets overwhelmed, too.

Contrary to what you believed – what you’ve told yourself all this time – Jungkook is just like anyone else. He’s human. He doubts. He tries.

It’s a shame the thought has only clicked into your head now. Because you were so sure that pedestal you put him on was where he rightfully belonged. You were so certain that the distance between you and him wasn’t something that could be crossed. That he was out of reach.

But here you are. Sitting next to him on a beach you can’t name, under a sky full of stars that don’t care who’s who. And you’re realizing – again – maybe you were wrong.

You feel bad, honestly. Because Jungkook’s been nothing but good to you. Better than good, if you’re being honest. He’s been kind, thoughtful. Present in ways that surprised you.

And he likes you.

At least… he said he does.

You haven’t processed it that much, ever since that night of his… confession passed.

It’s not the first time somebody said it to you. And it’s certainly not the first time you feel conflicted about it, because you’ve always been weird about relationships – or men, in general. You haven’t been in any therapy except for Jimin’s bimonthly honest feedback about your “avoidant coping mechanism” because ”you somewhat are afraid to love someone and have someone love you back so you cope by joking about how men are not all that and when you break up with someone you tell me it was not that serious”. You never retaliated with any of those because you know they were all true. You’ve had two serious boyfriends in your life, and none of them lasted for longer than a year.

They may have had problems of their own, but you always knew what it was with yours.

You get easily scared. You get scared about the possibility of you growing more feelings for a person – get scared at the prospect that you might want them to be in your life forever.

And god, forever is such a long time. And the future scares you a ton more than you’d like to admit.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in months. I’m glad you made us skip the party.” Jungkook responds to your question.

“I did not make us skip the party,” you laugh, prompting Jungkook to do so as well. You look at the calm waves, and suddenly you get the urge to stand up. It just looks so inviting, and so you can’t help but stand on your feet, making Jungkook look up at you. He watches you curiously as you take off your heels. You gesture to him to follow you. “Come on up here.”

He eyes you warily. “Are you…”

You shake your head immediately. “What, no. I’m not swimming. Just gonna dip my toes in the water,” you look far ahead. And true to your words, the sea really does look inviting. “It looks really good.” But when you drop your gaze back to Jungkook, he still looks unsure. You roll your eyes. “Afraid to get a little dirty, Mr. Jeon?”

He narrows his eyes at that. You challenge him with a raised brow. Then, with a scoff, Jungkook stands up from the makeshift blanket that’s really just his suit jacket and begins to tug off his leather shoes—

Hold up.

“You wear toe socks,” you deadpan, blinking at the sight like it’s physically hard to process.

“Huh? Oh— yeah.” Jungkook looks up from his feet to your face, confused for half a second before realization hits. “Okay, I know what you’re gonna say. My friends already clown me about this a lot.”

You can’t help it – you burst out laughing. It’s loud, full-bodied, and totally ungraceful. Jungkook just stands there with his lips pressed into a thin line, expression resigned, like this isn’t his first toe sock trial and probably won’t be his last.

You snicker behind your hand and turn toward the shoreline, still giggling as you walk. Jungkook follows a beat later, not looking the least bit offended by your reaction.

“I just don’t get it,” you manage through your laughter. “Why do you have gloves for your toes? Does that not give you the ick?”

“A glove for my toes?” Jungkook repeats, incredulous. A laugh escapes him. “What the hell?”

“Yeah! It’s literally the same concept. Gloves are uncomfortable as hell. Are you sure you willingly wear toe socks?”

“If I didn’t, would I be wearing them now?”

“Exactly! So you do it on purpose. That’s wild.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Hater much?”

“Through and through,” you grin, shaking your head. “How did I not know this sooner? You did—”

You nearly trip as your foot slips on the soft, uneven slope of sand. But Jungkook’s hands are already at your waist, steadying you before you can fall.

“Told you to be careful,” he murmurs, voice light with amusement.

You snort and push lightly against his abdomen. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Mr. Toe Sock.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle, and the two of you continue down the shore, moving closer to the sea. The air grows cooler as you approach the water, waves whispering along the sand like a quiet soundtrack to the moment.

“You actually remind me of my mom. She wore toe socks too.” you say suddenly, rendering Jungkook surprised beside you. But when you look at him, there’s a hint of a small smile on his face.

“Even your mom knows the drill,” Jungkook brags, prompting you to roll your eyes but you laugh anyway.

You bunch up your dress to your legs as you start dipping your feet into the water, a little surprised at the cold temperature even though you expected it already. It is still August, after all.

Jungkook follows, and you walk straight along the shoreline.

“You mind talking about her?” Jungkook asks suddenly, making you look at him.

You shake your head. “Not really. I love talking about my mom. She was a wonderful person.” you say truthfully, the words bringing a melancholic smile to your face.

“I’m sure she must have been.” Jungkook tells you with conviction.

“How are you so sure?” you can’t help but laugh.

Jungkook shrugs. “She has you as her daughter.”

“Hah!” Your laughter only becomes louder. “That’s really… that’s a good line.”

Jungkook only shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a shy smile on his face when he looks away. He can be really cute sometimes; such a walking contradiction, really.

“What about your mom?” You ask.

“She’s just as wonderful. My brother and I are close with her.”

You nod. You assumed that a while ago, but it oddly makes you feel good that Jungkook does indeed have a good relationship with his mother. It was cute, because the way he smiles when he talks about his mom tells you she’s really important to him.

“And… your dad?” You tread lightly, not sure about bringing him up again.

But Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind when he says, “He loves and adores mom, and I admire him a lot for that. He’s just… he just has a lot of expectations when it comes to his children, and it gets a little too overwhelming.”

You quietly hum at that.

Strange, really. How some people love differently.

“I once saw him before, you know?” You tell Jungkook, and he looks at you, intrigued. You nod, adding, “He looked really intimidating.” you give Jungkook a hesitant smile; he nods his head in understanding. “Anyway, I didn’t see him tonight. Did he come?”

Jungkook just gives you a smile. “I don’t think so. Not sure.”

You don’t question it further. You’ve made a lot of assumptions about Jungkook, but hearing the truth from him – it’s different. Like opening Pandora’s box, only to find something softer inside. There’s something oddly comforting about it. You’re talking about things that don’t usually come up, and it doesn’t feel awkward or forced. Just easy. And for once, it feels good to open up to someone who actually seems to care – not out of obligation, but out of genuine interest.

“What about you? What was your mom like?” Jungkook asks, walking beside you with his hands crossed behind his back.

“She was an angel. But I…” you hesitate, “I grew up hating her for half my life.”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze shift to you, but you keep your eyes ahead. You like talking about your mom – just not this part.

“You don’t know a lot when you’re a kid. I hated her because we were poor, and I thought it was because I didn’t have a dad. Every family day at school, kids would show up with both their parents. I was always just with her. And being an only child made everything feel even lonelier. I guess I blamed her for that.”

There’s a bitter smile tugging at your lips. Jungkook stays quiet, and you’re thankful for that – for not rushing to speak. For simply listening.

“She never talked about my dad. I never asked either. She just never brought him up. Then when I turned eighteen, I finally asked if she knew where he was. She just said he wasn’t a good man. She didn’t elaborate, but I didn’t need her to. I understood. And I think that was the moment I started realizing how good I actually had it with her.” You smile faintly at the memory. “She sewed me clothes. Made my lunch every day. And she’d bring home these snacks from her job at the factory – these crunchy peanuts. I don’t know if you’ve ever had them…”

“You mean Ojingeo?”

You shake your head, amused. “No, not those. Those are the squid peanuts, right? Mine was sweet. Not spicy.”

Jungkook squints thoughtfully. “Damn, I think I know what you’re talking about… Oh! Matdongsan?”

Your eyes light up. “Yeah! Matdongsan! Do they still make that today?”

“I’m not really sure,” Jungkook says, shaking his head with a little frown.

“Oh well…” You shrug and keep walking. “Anyway, my mom. She gave me everything she could, even when I didn’t know how to appreciate it.”

You wince, looking away, that guilt still tucked away in the corners of your chest. You remember the tantrums, the slamming of doors, the silent treatment; all the ways you lashed out, thinking it was just part of growing up.

“She started getting sick during my third year of college. We found out too late that it was breast cancer. The doctors did everything they could, but…” You bite your lip to keep it from trembling. “She didn’t make it. She passed away four years ago. Right after I graduated.”

You take a sharp breath, blinking rapidly to push back the stinging in your eyes. It’s been a while since you cried over your mom. You’ve made peace with the grief, mostly. But sometimes – like now – it creeps back in, catching you off guard.

“I think what hurt the most was realizing how much time I thought we’d still have. When you’re a kid, you just assume your parents will be there forever. You think you’ll grow up, get your first job, bring someone home for dinner – and they’ll be there for all of it. But life doesn’t really work like that.”

You swallow, glancing up at the stars that have begun to peek out from the clouds above the sea.

“I was still so young. I didn’t get to spend enough time with her. Not the kind I wanted, anyway.”

You don’t say the rest. That losing her changed something in you. That maybe it’s why you hesitate with relationships. Why you carry every goodbye with a little more weight than necessary – why you try to avoid them as early as possible; and it means avoiding getting too close to somebody.

“That’s tough, __. I’m really sorry you went through that,” Jungkook says softly. He stops walking, and you feel his hand hover behind your back – so close it makes your skin tingle with the anticipation of comfort. But he doesn’t touch you.

Still, it’s enough.

You try to lighten the mood, groaning, “God, I’m totally killing the vibe, huh?”

Jungkook immediately shakes his head, firm. “No. Never.”

You turn to look at him, and he’s looking at you like he means it. Like you didn’t just ruin anything. Like your story mattered.

You smile. And somehow, you really believe him.

You take a deep breath,

“Mom was really funny, though. So, she wore toe socks, right? And I was kind of repulsed by them so she made sure to add it to my laundry when it was my turn doing it, especially when I gave her a tantrum during that day.”

Jungkook chuckles at the story, visibly amused. “She did?”

“Yeah, she was secretly vindictive as hell,” you shake your head as Jungkook’s laughter becomes louder. It was the kind of laugh where it’s bordering on wheezing, and you can’t help but join in too.

“How are you repulsed by toe socks?” Jungkook looks at you incredulously. “Wait– are you still repulsed by them? Are you repulsed by me now?”

You waved your hand at him dismissively. “No, you’re fine. I’m a grown up now. I’ve overcome my toe socks trauma.”

“That’s goddamn good to know.” He says with a tone of relief, comical in the way he puts a hand to his chest for added effect. “I don’t know what I’d do if you’re still that against toe socks. I’m not sure if I can give them up just yet.”

“Why would you give it up for me?” you snort.

“Dunno. I’m kind of a __-pleaser.”

You blink. “Jungkook.”

His grin widens, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out. “God, you’re such a flirt.”

“Am I really?” he says, tilting his head, voice all playful innocence.

You squint your eyes at him. He squints back, mirroring you with a teasing glint. Then, slowly, you bend down, fingers dipping into the sea – just enough to send a quick splash of water his way.

You expect a tiny splash. A harmless flick. But what hits Jungkook’s white shirt is a little more than you intended. Your eyes widen as the damp spot spreads across the crisp fabric.

Oh no. That’s probably designer. Tailored. Definitely expensive.

Before you can blurt out an apology, Jungkook moves faster than you can register, and suddenly, cold water smacks against your dress and hair. You gasp.

“Oh my god.” You stare at him, scandalized. “You did not.”

He raises his hands up, and he chuckles at the look on your face. When he sees you bending down again, he doesn’t make the mistake of waiting on you and immediately walks faster, effectively keeping himself a few feet away from you so he can avoid your expected attack.

Too bad he doesn’t run.

You scoop up a handful of seawater and hurl it at his back. Bullseye. Jungkook throws his head back in feigned betrayal, letting out a dramatic groan.

“Oh, that wasn’t very nice,” he warns.

You don’t wait for retaliation. You take off running, the cool night air rushing past you as laughter bubbles from your chest. You can hear his footsteps behind you, and you scream-laugh when his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you right off the ground.

“Jungkook!” you shriek between fits of laughter, squirming in his grip. But he’s strong – gentle, but determined – and you’re too breathless to fight him off.

“You’re gonna regret that, little miss devil,” he tsks, carrying you like a sack of mischief as he heads toward the water.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” you plead, kicking lightly.

“Too late,” he says, walking deeper. You can feel the cold moisture from his clothes seeping into you as he holds you close.

“Jungkook, we’re gonna soak your car when we get back.”

“My shirt’s already ruined.”

“You have your coat!”

“You started it.”

“I’ll bite you if you don’t put me down. I have my canine teeth.”

“Go ahead.”

“Jungkook!” You bury your face into the side of his neck, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, your giggles muffled against his skin. “Okay, okay! If you want to paddle in the water, let’s do it – but let’s take off our clothes first.”

That stops him. Completely.

His steps halt mid-surge, his arms frozen around you as your words settle between the two of you like a stone dropped into calm water.

“What?”

“What?” you parrot back.

Jungkook cranes his neck to look up at you. “Are you telling us to take a skinny dip?”

You bite your lip to not laugh at the incredulity written all over his face. You squint your eyes at him, noting the look on his face. It’s looking quite nervous. “You’re afraid to get naked?”

Jungkook scoffs, then… he chuckles.

“I’m most certainly not. Are you?” He says, sounding like he’s challenging you for something.

You arch your brow. “I’m most certainly not.” you mirror his words back to him, effectively making him laugh. “We don’t really have to be naked, though. I’ll just take off my dress. We’re already wet anyway, so…?”

It takes awhile for Jungkook to say something. Then, he shakes his head. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” you bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling a little too much.

“What if somebody sees us?”

You jut your bottom lip out. “Jungkook, it’s probably 2 am at this point. Nobody’s awake except for weird sea creatures. I didn’t take you for a wuss.”

Jungkook cackles.

“Fuck me.” you clearly hear him whisper to himself. Slowly, you feel his hands letting you down until your feet once again get into contact with the sand.

You look at Jungkook expectantly once you face him. “Well?” you say, gesturing with a flick of your hand. “Turn around. I’m gonna take my dress off.”

Jungkook lets out a short laugh but doesn’t move immediately. His gaze lingers on your face for a second longer than necessary, eyes shining with something unreadable. “It’s only fair if you turn around too,” he says, crossing his arms but giving in to a small smile.

You roll your eyes, but you turn your back anyway, fingers quickly locating the side zipper of your dress. The fabric loosens and slips from your shoulders with ease, falling into a soft heap around your ankles. Cool air kisses your bare skin, a stark contrast to the warmth still lingering from Jungkook’s touch.

You breathe in through your nose, silently thanking your past self for wearing a decent pair of underwear – a beige strapless push-up bra and matching panties. Not your sexiest, but it’s not humiliating either. You remind yourself this isn’t about seduction – it’s about spontaneity. The water felt amazing even though it was freezing but who cares! This was something out of someone’s bucket list, right? Skinny dipping at fuckass o’clock in the morning. Given, it’s not actually skinny-dipping… you’ve only ever done the real thing with Jimin from a trip years ago but it was in a pool so it didn’t count.

You feel pretty good about yourself until you turn around just as the same time Jungkook does.

And holy fuck.

You freeze.

You’ve seen Jungkook’s body before. Of course you have. But never like this. Never up close, never with this much bare skin and moonlight involved. His white shirt is gone, revealing an inked arm and lean muscle that tightens across his torso with every breath. But it’s his legs – his thighs – that make your breath hitch. The way they’re shaped, carved like he’s spent a lifetime training without ever trying too hard. Your eyes trail lower before your brain can stop them, and they land on the bulge beneath his black Calvin Kleins.

You snap your gaze up too fast.

“Your tattoo looks good,” Jungkook says.

The words hit you like a splash of cold water. Not because of what he says, but because it’s so obvious he caught you staring. And worse: he doesn’t seem fazed by it.

You glance down, catching the curve of ink that hugs your ribs. Your underboob piece.

“Oh. That one,” you say, clearing your throat as you angle your body slightly, fingertips brushing along your side. “Yeah. That’s what I told you about before.”

The piece goes from right under your boob to the side of your rib. It was quite a big one actually, but the tattoo is as wispy as it can get; a delicate image that curves along the ribcage – fine lines forming soft leaves and petals. It’s subtle and graceful, just like you wanted it to be.

Jungkook is still staring when you look back up. His mouth parts slightly, like he’s just now realizing he should say something.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet yours. And it’s not just the tattoo he’s looking at.

You shift, suddenly hyperaware of the way your body is lit by the moonlight. “Thanks. I planned it for weeks. The artist and I talked a lot about what I wanted. He was really talented.” You adjust your chest a little so you can take a better look of your tattoo. You swear it takes a bit of your time when you’re in the shower or you’re changing in front of the mirror because you almost always have to admire your piece whenever you see it.

“He?” Jungkook repeats.

You’re caught off guard, but you nod anyway. “Hm.”

A pause. Then: “When did you get it?”

“Two years ago. Same time Jimin got his moon phase tattoo. You’ve seen that one?”

“No. Just the others.”

“Oh, you will,” you chuckle. “He’ll show it to you whether you ask or not.”

Jungkook grins, but it’s quieter now. His hands brush off the backs of his thighs before he turns and lays his clothes down on the sand. You do the same, carefully folding your dress over the top of his shirt like it might protect it somehow. The silence between you is suddenly soft now, turning intimate.

When you meet his eyes again, you smile. And somehow, when he meets your gaze, you feel as if there’s a wire pulled taut between you – stretched thin and aching to snap.

You turn first, bare feet pressing into the cold sand as you walk toward the dark, inviting water. The night air nips at your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the rush of heat pooling low in your stomach.

Behind you, you hear Jungkook follow.

You reach the shoreline, waves licking your ankles. The water is freezing. Your breath hitches at the sensation, but you walk further in, just until it reaches your knees, then stop to turn to look back at him.

“Well?” you ask, voice soft and challenging. “Coming in, or are you just gonna stand there?”

Jungkook steps forward and walks straight into the water like it’s nothing, like he hadn’t hesitated at all, like this was his idea in the first place.

The waves lap against your skin as he closes the distance between you.

You wade further in, letting the water climb your body inch by inch until it hugs your ribs. “Ohh,” you gasp with genuine surprise. “The water’s actually warm over here.”

Jungkook raises a brow as he hears that. Trudging deeper, he takes a few steps behind you. “You serious?”

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a grin. “It’s nice.” The word rolls out of your mouth like you’re savoring it. You lift your hands, gathering a small pool of water, and send a playful splash in his direction.

The water hits his face. His bangs drip instantly.

You laugh at the sight. There’s a frown that twitches on his lips as he tries to blink the saltwater out of his eyes.

And then he retaliates.

He flings water back at you with enough force to wet your hair this time, and your laughter erupts again, echoing over the waves. “Didn’t expect you to be so vindictive,” you call out between splashes, paddling away from him in slow strokes. “I thought you were sweet.”

“Didn’t expect you to be so mean,” Jungkook shoots back, and the grin you see on his teasing face tugs something sweet inside your chest.

It turns into this ridiculous game – splashing, dodging, laughing. The moonlight glints on the ripples between you, and every now and then, when you’re not dunking water in each other’s faces, you catch the way his eyes linger just a bit too long. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. It’s not uncomfortable. It just simmers there, under the surface like heat waiting to rise.

As you paddle further, you feel the ground slope under your feet and lift slightly, weightless now, the water just above your chest. You let out a breath and spin in place lazily, floating.

“Jungkook!” you call out, voice light, “Come here!”

He does, wading close until you're barely a few feet apart. He stops right where the water reaches his collarbones, droplets rolling down his throat.

You swim toward him instinctively, arms slicing through the water, and when you get close enough, you reach up and loop your arms around his shoulders.

You feel Jungkook stiffen for a brief second, seemingly surprised by the sudden closeness. But you don’t miss the way his hands instinctively come to your waist, steadying you.

“I’m hitching a ride,” you say breezily.

“What?”

“I wanna piggyback,” you grin, already hopping onto him, locking your legs around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jungkook lets out a huff of a laugh, almost startled. But he catches you easily, arms adjusting around your thighs to hold you steady. His hands are warm even underwater, and your chest is pressed so close to his back. So close you can hear every shallow breath.

“God, you’re shameless,” he mutters, but his voice is low and there’s a smile there – something fond, and maybe something even… dangerous.

“And you’re acting like you mind,” you murmur near his ear, smiling into his shoulder.

The water sways around you, wrapping both your bodies. It’s playful. It’s soft. But it’s also charged – like every second poses a dare for either one of you to cross a line.

You tighten your grip around his neck, your cheek brushing against his. “It’s getting cold again,” you whisper, shivering against him. “Jungkook, it’s getting cold.”

“I thought you wanted to be in the water.”

“Don’t turn this around on me.” You whine, lips brushing against his neck in your exaggerated pout. He cranes his head slightly, and you’re close enough now to count the droplets sliding down his temple. “Let’s go back,” you say, voice softer now.

He nods. “Alright.”

But just as you think he’s about to carry you back, you feel him start to lower your legs.

“Jungkook, what the hell!” you yelp, gripping his shoulders tighter.

“You said let’s go back,” he says innocently, though the glint in his eye says otherwise.

“Swear to god, if you drop me, I’ll bite you. And it won’t be pretty. I have my canine teeth.”

He laughs, the sound echoing across the water. “Okay, okay— relax. I’m not dropping you, princess.”

He readjusts his hold, and you sigh in exaggerated relief, letting your arms wrap loosely around his neck again. The journey back is slow, quiet, and for a second, you almost forget you’re wearing nothing but wet underwear. That is, until your feet touch the shore again and the sea releases you both back to reality.

You let Jungkook lower you down, suddenly aware of how much skin is on display. You turn slightly, trying to avoid looking directly at him – though that doesn’t stop you from noticing how good he looks, wet boxers clinging to his thighs, moonlight catching on his skin.

God, get a grip.

“Here,” he says, offering your dress with a slight smile.

“Oh. Thanks.” You take it, fingers brushing his for a beat longer than necessary.

“I’ll give you some space,” he says, turning around just in time for you to see him start stripping his boxers off.

“Jesus christ, Jungkook. Warn a girl next time,” you squeak, spinning around like your life depends on it.

You hear him laugh, which makes you laugh as well. And it’s stupid, but it feels natural.

“I’m taking off my underwear. Don’t look,” you call over your shoulder.

“Hmm. No promises,” he replies with a chuckle.

You roll your eyes and get to work, yanking off your bra and panties with more urgency than grace, tugging your dress back on as fast as you can. You’re nearly done when you hear his voice again.

“Done?”

“Almost,” you reply, quickly shoving your wet underwear into a ball.

You finally turn around just as Jungkook, now fully clothed again, offers his suit jacket.

“Here. In case you get cold.”

You hesitate for a split second before taking it. “Thanks.”

The jacket smells like him, and you pull it tighter around you before saying anything else. There's still water clinging to your skin, and when you glance at Jungkook, his shirt is sticking to him in places, outlining muscle like it’s got something to prove.

You try not to notice. You fail.

“I’m still wet,” you mutter under your breath before realizing what you just said.

He raises a brow, and you both burst out laughing.

“For the record, I’m also still wet,” Jungkook adds with a smirk.

You don’t even have it in you to respond. Just a groan and a shake of your head as you both start walking.

The walk back to his car isn’t long, but it feels like a slow return to reality. You glance over at Jungkook once you’re near enough, wordlessly telling him to unlock the car. He gets the message, patting his jacket pocket like it’s muscle memory. Then the other one. Then his pants.

“Shit.”

You startle at the curse that slips out of Jungkook’s mouth. He does not usually do that, like at all.

“What?” you ask back, looking at him curiously.

“I think I left my keyfob in the driver’s seat.”

Your jaw slacks. “Are you serious?”

”Hold on just a sec,” Jungkook tells you, taking a few strides over to his car. He pats his trousers again, but just like a few moments ago, he doesn’t seem to find anything.

You walk towards his direction as Jungkook lowers his head to look through the window of the driver’s seat, and when you stop by his side, he lets out a low cuss again.

You’ve never heard him say so many expletives in the entire time you’ve known him.

”It’s inside the car?”

Jungkook nods, and you can feel yourself starting to worry when he glances back at you, saying, “Did you have your phone with you or something?”

“N-no.” you’re flustered as you stare at him.

Jungkook looks like he expected that already. But he nods again, anyway, stepping back a little from the car.

”Any chance you know where we are?” He looks around, and at the very least you’re thankful that he seems cool and collected.

Because if you were not panicking already, you definitely are now.

“Not right now, no,” you shake your head. “You don’t have your phone with you either or something?”

“I didn’t take it with me when we went down to the shore.”

“So all our things are in there.” You realize as you stare inside his car.

Fuck. You remember exactly how the two of you agreed to leave all your stuff inside to avoid losing any of them at the beach, just in case.

“We’ll figure it out.” Says Jungkook as he rounds the car about. He checks his trunk and you see him poking his tongue through his cheek, visibly wincing afterwards. “We can’t access the seats through the trunk.”

Which means you can’t access the car in any way.

You’re cold and you’re frazzled as you try to process the trajectory of the events tonight.

“__,” Jungkook calls gently. You look at him wide-eyed. “Is it fine if we walk around for a bit until we find a telephone or something? I could do it but I don’t want to leave you alone here.”

“That’s fine.”

Jungkook might’ve seen how worried you are that he quickly goes to reassure you, “We got it. I’m really sorry for forgetting about my keys.”

At that, you quickly shake your head, feeling bad that he even had to tell you that.

“No, it’s fine. Not your fault. I should have reminded you about the door too…” you trail off because at the end of the day, you’re both stuck here because you forgot to pay attention to the important details.

Well, there goes your fun night. All going down the drain because you’re gonna be stuck.

You hope you do pass by a telephone booth or something, though.

Do they still even make those nowadays?

“It’s kind of a quiet part around this town, no?” Jungkook observes as he looks around while you both start walking.

You hum, but you remember something, “Wait, Kook, your car. What about it?” you look back in worry at the vehicle parked across the road.

“I’ll call a car locksmith once we get a phone. That okay?”

Jungkook’s voice is so gentle and sweet you’re honestly confused how he’s so calm about the situation while you’re thinking about so many different things in your head it’s like your body is separated from your mind as you try to match his walking pace.

It’s eerily quiet, and there are barely lamp posts around the area to illuminate your path.

You stay close to Jungkook, and somehow, he radiates a sort of warm heat that makes it bearable for you to walk for another few minutes.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks after awhile.

Since when did this country start running out of provision shops that are open for 24 hours? Why is it that suddenly, you can’t even see a sign of civilization?

Where the hell are you guys?

“Right now I’m thinking of ten ways we can both get killed but that’s not a big deal,” you say as you nibble on your bottom lip. Then you sigh. “I’m really, really, geographically challenged. Even Sol can’t figure out why I still hesitate sometimes if the pantry area is on the left or right side of the office and I’ve been in the company for over three years.” You take a deep breath again, looking at Jungkook with worried eyes. “Anyway, the point is… can you still remember where we came from? Because I unfortunately can’t help you with that.”

You send him an apologetic look, and you feel bad, you really do. But it’s not your fault that geography is not your forte! And it’s not your fault either they had no budget for lamp posts or random telephone booths.

Dwelling in that thought, you don’t notice Jungkook’s stricken expression for a moment at your sudden outburst of a confession, but soon he shakes his head, giving you a reassuring rub on your shoulder as he responds with, “I can still remember it, don’t worry.”

You almost let a sigh out of relief.

“Hey, it’s alright, hm? We’ll go home.” Jungkook says again when you don’t say anything.

You nod.

Well, that indeed feels reassuring.

You’re freaking out.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks.

“No— I’m fine. I just… my feet kind of hurt in these heels,” you finally reply.

You’d imagined a brief five‐minute walk before encountering a telephone, but every shop is closed and there’s nowhere to borrow a phone. After twenty minutes in your party heels – hardly designed for even a level walk – you’re paying the price.

Still, you try to keep your frustration at bay. You remind yourself there’s no point complaining now; it would only slow both of you down.

“Let’s rest for a bit,” Jungkook suddenly suggests. He stops by a curb, drops onto the concrete, and gestures for you to join him. You hesitate for a moment before walking over and sitting beside him. “I feel really bad,” he confesses, his eyes apologetically large.

“It’s not your fault, Kook, I promise,” you assure him, knowing deep down it isn’t his fault either. A sigh escapes him, a rare note of distress beyond the initial panic when you two discovered you’d been locked out of his car.

Before you can add more, Jungkook kneels in front of you, gently taking your legs and slipping off your heels. The sudden, yet thoughtful gesture brings immediate relief to your aching feet.

“T-thanks,” you say, slightly flustered.

In the midst of what could have been a disaster, having Jungkook here makes everything feel a bit more bearable.

A comfortable silence settles between you both until a sudden yawn reminds you just how exhausted you are.

“Tired?” Jungkook teases with a smile. You merely scrunch your nose, prompting a soft chuckle from him. “Let’s get going then. We’ll find something soon, hm?”

As you prepare to put your shoes back on, Jungkook retrieves them and positions himself so you can step onto his back.

“Hop on,” he instructs.

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Jungkook, it’s fine. I’m not gonna die from another two or three-minute-walk.”

But he simply tilts his head back with an arched brow. “You didn’t have a problem hopping on my back at the beach.”

“That was different,” you protest, though his expectant gaze leaves you little choice. “Well… if you insist,” you relent. “Thanks, Kook. My feet were killing me.”

Jungkook hoists you onto his back with ease, your arms looping around his shoulders.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Stronger than you look.”

He snorts. “I’ll pretend that’s a compliment.”

You smile, letting your eyes close for a second. The night air is cool, the road still and quiet beneath his steady footsteps.

After a beat, you say, “If we die out here, I hope someone puts cute flowers on our grave, at least.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice… put that on my tombstone: Died in heels. Looked hot doing it.”

Your laugh is cut off when you see a flickering neon glow amongst the trees, cutting through the dark.

“Wait— look.”

Jungkook stops. “Is that…?”He starts walking faster, adjusting your weight. “That’s a motel sign.”

Sure enough, the closer you get, the clearer it is: a MOTEL sign blinking in faded colors, the word Vacancy lit underneath.

Jungkook lowers you gently to the ground, and you thought that’d be the end of it but he helps you with your heels again even though you didn’t say anything.

When you’re steady on your feet, you both stare at the building.

It’s shabby, a little creepy, but real.

“You think they’ll have a phone?” you ask.

“Let’s go inside?”

You give him a tight-lipped smile.

The dingy bell above the motel door jingles weakly as Jungkook pushes it open. You step in behind him, the heavy scent of air freshener mixed with something… older… instantly hitting your nose.

The lobby is small and tired-looking, lit by a flickering overhead light and a dusty lamp on the counter. Behind it sits a woman slouched over the desk, scrolling on her phone with a bored expression. She glances up once, before returning to whatever she’s doing.

“Hi,” Jungkook starts politely. “Uh… would it be okay if we borrowed your phone for a quick call? We’re kind of stuck out here.”

The woman barely moves her jaw as she responds. “Phones are for customers only.”

You and Jungkook exchange a look. Of course.

“Okay,” he says after a beat, managing a polite smile. “Then we’ll take a room.”

She finally straightens a little and reaches under the desk. “Only one room left,” she says as she pulls out a large, clunky registration book. “Two-oh-nine. Queen bed.”

You blink. “Just one?”

She shrugs, clearly not interested in your dilemma. “You want it or not?”

“We’ll take it,” he says quickly. “I’ll just make a quick call to wire you the money?”

The woman glares at him suspiciously. Then she glances at you again, brows furrowing. You try to look inconspicuous, sticking behind Jungkook slightly. He wraps an arm around your waist.

Then, the attendant boredly shakes her head.

“Whatever. Make your calls.”

You try not to look as awkward as you feel when she slides the key across the counter with chipped blue nail polish.

“Second floor. Stairs are on the left.”

With that, she’s back on her phone like you never existed.

You and Jungkook stand there for a second, key in hand, the silence between you suddenly a little too loud. You look at each other for awhile, and then wordlessly, you both head towards where the staircase is.

It creaks, the wooden material of the treads. But you both ignore that as you make your way up.

It’s not too hard to spot Room 209, as it’s just quite literally on the next two doors to your right as soon as you step on the landing.

The door creaks loudly when Jungkook unlocks the door and pushes it open.

When you both step inside, you pause immediately.

“Oh,” you both say at the same time.

The room is… something.

Faded floral wallpaper peels in the corners, and a single overhead light casts a yellowish glow over the queen-sized bed with mismatched sheets. There’s a clunky TV mounted to the wall, an old nightstand, and a mysterious stain on the carpet near the window that neither of you want to acknowledge.

You slowly turn your head toward Jungkook just as he turns to look at you.

”You can take the bed. I’ll take—” A quick scan in the room as you both step inside further tells a quick discovery that a couch is very much absent. “I’ll take the floor.” Jungkook finishes.

You’re too occupied with the state of the room that you don’t really say anything to that.

“You can take a shower first. I’ll just use the phone,” At that, you look to the other side of the room and find another door that presumably leads to the bathroom, and you almost let out a sigh of relief. At least they have a bathroom. “Lock the door for awhile. I’ll come back in three.”

He gives you the key which you take in your hand. When Jungkook disappears, the soles of his shoes making a sound down the stairs, you make another discovery again that the walls are very thin.

Yep. You have definitely been teleported to a movie in which you have no clue what the genre is yet. It might be a rom-com, but you’re more sure that it’s horror.

”Oh god,” you groan as you navigate the room.

Jungkook can’t possibly sleep on the floor! You bet he’s never done that before but even if that was the case, that would just be a cruel thing to do especially when the bed looks like it could fit the two of you just fine.

But the thought of sleeping with him again makes the heat crawl up your cheeks. You remember the last time you did it – not exactly how and why it even happened – but you remember that brief feeling of being pressed against his warm chest and feeling him all over you. Almost all of him, in fact.

“Shut up.” you verbally tell yourself and roll your eyes, heading to the bathroom.

You go straight to the shower, strip your clothes off and grimace as soon as the cold water hits your skin. You didn’t really expect the motel to have hot water, anyway, but you do still agonize it as you clean up your body anyway, forgoing the suspicious bar of soap on the side.

You finish quickly, not really wanting to stay that long in the bathroom.

There’s a clean looking robe that you wrap your body with before you pull open the door. And there Jungkook is, standing right in front of you, seemingly waiting. He’s also shirtless, because he’s handing you his shirt for some reason.

“I called a locksmith already and they said they’re towing my car here in an hour and a half. That’d be 4 am by then, so we’ll probably be asleep. And I’m thinking you wouldn’t be comfortable in your dress, so feel free to wear this for the meantime.”

“Oh,” you give him a grateful smile, taking his shirt. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you to think.”

“No problem.”

Jungkook walks inside the bathroom and you unintentionally admire his muscular back before he completely disappears on you.

You make quick work of patting yourself dry and putting on your panties and Jungkook’s shirt, feeling your cheeks heat up a little at the familiar scent.

As you make the bed half-heartedly, you try not to think too much about how you’re gonna invite him beside you – but it keeps messing with your head because now you’re thinking about cuddling him and it’s totally unnecessary and inappropriate.

At one point, you let yourself fall on the mattress dramatically, burying your face in the pillows and lying still.

“__?”

You lay flat on the bed completely motionless, brainstorming how to approach the situation.

You really can’t let Jungkook sleep on the floor. There’s not even that much of a bedding on the bed, let alone some sheets! And there are only three pillows for Christ’s sake!

You’ve drowned out your environment at that point that you guess you didn’t hear the shower shut close and the feet padding the floor, because when you crane your neck around, there Jungkook is.

And again, he is without a shirt.

And without pants.

And you’re mostly certain it’s his penis right there in between his thighs.

”Oh my god!”

”__, what the hell!”

“Jungkook, that’s your penis!”

“What? Turn around and don’t look!” Jungkook says wide-eyed, attempting to cover his dick with his two hands. But it’s too late now because you’ve just seen it and there’s no way to blur it out in your head.

“But I already saw it!” you cry, seeing different momentary emotions flash on Jungkook’s face.

“I was calling for you because the towel is in the cabinet but I thought you got knocked out from exhaustion and so I decided I was just gonna sneak in!” Jungkook explains frantically, and you can see his ears turning red from where you are as he tries to seemingly cover all of him, quite poorly might you add.

You stutter, “W-what do you mean knocked out, of course I’m awake!”

“I called you thrice, and you didn’t— okay. Okay. Just turn around, please, so I can get the towel.”

“Okay!” You bite your lip and almost snap your neck as you turn around swiftly, landing your eyes on the torn portion of the wallpaper in the room. “Oh my god…” You whisper to yourself as you hear shuffling from behind you, and if it was not any more obvious, you're about to burst in embarrassment. “What the fuck,” you hiss, trying not to physically shake your head to erase the image of Jungkook’s very naked body that keeps flashing in your head.

It seems like he picks up on it.

“Can you not sound so mortified?”

And for the first time in your life, there’s a tone to Jungkook’s voice that sounds genuinely annoyed.

You slap both your palms to your face. “Well, I’m sorry! I just saw your— your thing! how am I supposed to react to that? It’s embarrassing!”

“My penis is embarrassing?” Jungkook incredulously says.

You wish your mind worked faster than your mouth, but unfortunately, it doesn't. And you should’ve known that already, because it has gotten you in a lot of trouble all this time.

“No! Your penis is fine! It’s wonderful! I’m embarrassed, that’s what I meant.”

There was no way to take that back, because the silence that follows is too loud that at this point, you hope the building burns to fuck so Jungkook can forget about what you said and maybe all about you too while you’re at it.

“… okay.” you hear Jungkook’s unsure voice.

You groan. “Can I turn around now?”

“You can.”

Thankfully, Jungkook has his pants on now. You try to see past his bottom half but the upper part is no help at all because you're wearing his shirt and there’s no way you’re giving it back to him so he’s naked, again.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side. He looks at you curiously, then he shakes his head.

“If anything, I should be the one embarrassed here, not you,” he says as he walks by the edge of the bed.

“Well…” you watch him, following his figure. “I was speaking for both of us. You’re embarrassed about having your thing get seen by me and I’m embarrassed for seeing it.”

Jungkook pauses.

“That is definitely not offensive.”

You’re about to release a sigh of relief when you realize that was him being sarcastic.

You eye him apologetically. “Oh, Jungkook, how was I supposed to react? Your one-eyed monster just stared right at me. I had to scream.”

“My… what?” he incredulously says, seemingly just getting more and more confused the more the conversation gets going.

You remember your promise to yourself to stop calling penis weird names so you shake your head.

“I didn’t say that, actually,” you try to give him your sweetest smile but you’re sure you just look constipated. You sigh, shoulders deflating. “Jungkook, I think it would really benefit the two of us if you stop me from speaking sometimes.”

“Okay I get it,” Jungkook raises his hands, shrugging. “You’re mortified about seeing my dick.” He says and you swear he sounds a little defensive.

“What? No!” you quickly deny. “I’m not mortified about seeing your dick, I’m mortified about having to see it in the situation…!” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything, you let out a loud sigh again, eyeing him helplessly as you quietly accept that nothing is coming out right.

In defeat, you let your bum fall on the mattress and cross your arms as Jungkook finishes his make-shift bed on the floor.

“… well you would actually also scream if the situation was reversed, so.” You tell him as a matter of fact.

Jungkook stops on his tracks and turns to you. “You mean if I saw you naked?”

“Well, yes.”

You hear him scoff a little, prompting your brows to raise.

“Trust me, I’ll have an entirely different reaction if I saw you naked.”

He takes the spare sheet on the edge of the bed, laying it on the floor as your arms unconsciously drop to your sides once you register Jungkook’s words, jaw slacking at the realization. Before you can say anything to that, Jungkook’s already laying down on the floor and getting comfortable.

“You know what, you’re so full of lines it’s ridiculous.” you say and indignantly lay on the bed, staring angrily at the ceiling.

But you remember he doesn’t even have pillows. So you make quick work of taking the two under your head. “Here.” You pass him the pillows without looking at him.

You’re not even mad mad, you’re just… ugh! Jungkook frustrates you with his stupid lines and you don’t even know if he’s serious or not or you’re just way too self-centered that everything he says feels like flattery to you.

“What do you mean I’m full of lines?” Jungkook asks from below you.

“Come on, you always flirt with me.”

Suddenly, you hear a chuckle, making you instantly crane your neck to the side.

“Do you have a problem with it?” Jungkook says, and he has the audacity to sound playful.

You nibble your bottom lip. You could make up a lie, but you find yourself not wanting to. Besides… it doesn’t realy matter if you tell him the truth.

“No. You just make me so…” you trail off, not knowing what to say next. Maybe you didn’t really have anything in mind.

You hear Jungkook chuckling again at your prolonged silence.

“So…?” You can just see him cocking his head to the side with that charming smile of his.

“Nevermind.”

“That’s not fair,” he calls out, but there’s still a hint of smile that you can hear in his voice. “I still feel embarrassed that you felt mortified about seeing my—“

”Oh my god, don’t say it.” you quickly cut him off.

He laughs. A hearty, full laugh. “Sorry.”

“I’m not scared of your dick, okay? Stop saying that,” you say, cheeks heating. You bury your face further in the pillow as if it would teleport you to a place away from Jungkook. “I actually think—“ you cut yourself immediately when you catch what you’re actually thinking.

“What?” he sounds intrigued, and you’re really grateful that he can’t see you right now because you’re definitely banging your face in the pillow again.

While it is true that you got scared for a split second, it was only because of the shock of it all. But once you were past that, fear is definitely the last thing you feel about seeing his… thing, if you’re being honest to yourself.

“I think that it’s time to sleep now.” You settle for that, nodding your head to yourself and mentally patting your back for the successful change of subject.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

You bite back a smile. “Night.”

“You too.”

You hear a little bit of shuffling from below you, and you try to get comfortable as well on the mattress.

When a few minutes passed, you find yourself unable to close your eyes, staring at the dark scenery behind the curtain of the one and only window in the room. You peek at the alarm clock perched on the bedside table, noting it’s already four am.

You’re used to a fucked sleeping schedule so it’s not a surprise to you that you don’t feel an ounce of sleep at this point. Thank god it’s Sunday tomorrow and you have no work.

Is Jungkook asleep already, though?

You move around the bed and gingerly roll yourself over to look at Jungkook. When you finally see him, he has one arm under his head while the other is draped across his bare stomach, eyes closed. There’s no extra sheet so you both have to deal with the cold from the breeze outside. Maybe it’s a good thing the AC’s not working, because you both will surely freeze to death.

“Can’t sleep?”

You nearly topple over when you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“You scared me,” you hiss. Jungkook laughs, but still, his eyes don’t open.

“Gotcha.” his words may be playful but you realize he actually does sound a little tired.

You’re quiet for a moment as you look at him. The floorboards must probably be hurting him, and if not right now, it surely will in the next hours.

“Kook?” He only hums. “Do you wanna share the bed?” you say, looking at him in concern.

“It’s alright.” Jungkook says gently.

“No, it’s fine really. And we can also share that sheet anyway if we both sleep here instead.”

Finally, Jungkook opens his eyes, meeting yours. “You sure?” You nod your head certainly. He gives you a smile. ”Okay.”

He gets off the floor, bringing the sheet and pillows with him as he stands up. You try to ignore the way your stomach curls at the sight of him: shirtless and only in his trousers, but it becomes more difficult when he gets closer, knees dipping into the mattress and scent overwhelming you.

He smells like the perfume you assume he wears for work, and goddamn does it stay and good god does it make you think of a lot of things.

Scooting to the side, you hug one pillow closer to you as you give him space. It’s not a tight fit, but it’s not spacious, either.

“You’re gonna fall off the bed at this point,” Jungkook says suddenly, and you realize you’re near the edge by your constant ruffling.

Giving him a sheepish smile, you adjust your position just as he lays on his back.

Your shoulders touch, and he feels closer than ever.

You swallow the lump in your throat before you turn around with your back facing him, curling to yourself as you barely whisper, “Good night, Jungkook.”

A beat. Then, “Sweet dreams, __.”

Minutes pass, and you’ve been trying to shut your eyes close so sleep can come visit you, but it doesn’t. You’re trying so hard not to press any closer in the fear of suddenly wanting to cuddle up to him and having your resolve get broken down.

“Hey,” Your heart jumps at Jungkook’s husky tone. But you hum in response, still your back on him. There’s a pregnant pause before he speaks. “What I said last time at your place, we never really talked about it again.”

Your heart picks up, knowing exactly where he’s getting at.

It’s been about four days, and none of you haven’t brought it up ever since.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

Your heart gets caught up in your throat. “Kook…”

“I’m completely fine just being friends with you, if that’s what you want.” Jungkook says, and every word that he says is starting to feel like a punch to the gut. “I’ve thought about it. I don’t want you to think that my friendship has an ulterior motive—”

“Jungkook?”

You feel Jungkook physically freeze when you turn around to look at him. He’s there lying on his back with an arm under his neck, and for now, you ignore the very obvious lines of ripped muscles on his stomach and arms. For now, you try not to think too much about how his chest looks so inviting like it’s begging to be cuddled into.

“Yes?” He levels you with curious doe eyes, a little tense.

“Shut up.” You tell him gently. His mouth parts, completely unexpecting that.

You adjust your position on the bed until your elbow is pressing hard onto the mattress, supporting your weight. Tucking a strand of hair that falls over your face, you look into his eyes as you add, “I don’t wanna be just friends with you.”

Surprise makes its way onto his expression, and you try to drown out the way your heart beats erratically against your ribcage.

When he doesn’t say anything, you let yourself fall on the bed ungracefully, turning your back on him, suddenly feeling embarrassed for your mini outburst.

But then a few seconds later, and you hear a bit of shuffling behind you. Then, there’s a breath that fans across your neck, and you feel a warm presence all over your back.

“This is okay, then?” Jungkook whispers against your hair, so close to the junction between your neck and shoulder. You could see from your periphery the way his inked arm hovers over your waist, and you find yourself yearning for him to just drop it and press you closer against him.

And so you decide to throw your inhibitions away and think fuck it. What’s there to think about?

You scoot closer to him until you feel all of him against your back.

Without knowing why, you feel a smile on Jungkook’s lips as he softly says, “You’re killing me here.”

When you look over your shoulder, there Jungkook is, meeting your stare instantly as if his eyes had been on you the whole time. And maybe it’s the magnetic pull you’ve felt ever since you stepped on that beach and felt and seen each other’s bare skin pressed so close against one another – teasing your feet over the lines you two have been blurring out ever since that night at his place when you got drunk and you shared a rather intimate moment that left you both hanging to a questionable push and pull situation.

But you choose to push this time; against the whirling thoughts in your head about what this would mean in the future.

You adjust yourself once again; lean a little close, and then kiss Jeon Jungkook.

And it doesn’t really surprise you that much when he kisses back.

You’ve thought about how he would taste like ever since that night it almost happened and kept yourself in denial for days. You’ve played the oblivious game as a defense mechanism for some fear you know you just conjured up in your brain – but tonight feels electric. Like the night built up just for this exact moment to come; with your lips pressed against Jungkook’s.

You hear a sigh escaping him, a deep timbre that sends shivers down your spine.

And when Jungkook nudges his tongue against your lips, you open your mouth to let him in.

You let out a soft whimper when Jungkook’s tongue starts exploring your mouth, beginning to feel lightheaded as he leans more of him towards you. His hands start wandering, and what was once hovering over you is now on your waist, fingers pulling up the hem of his polo shirt until you’re exposed down to your legs with only a pair of underwear to keep you decent. It travels down to your outer thigh, with Jungkook brushing a calloused hand against the soft flesh – and you can’t help but moan when he squeezes, especially paired with a skillful tongue that works its ways in your mouth like he’s trying to tell you something he’s desperate for you to know.

It’s how you find yourself pushing on his chest, effectively halting Jungkook’s ministrations.

“Wh—” you cut him off with another searing kiss, and you don’t let him say any more as you boldly straddle his waist, unintentionally settling down on his crotch where you feel a bulge against your thin underwear.

And oh god. Earlier when you saw it with your bare eyes, you had to convince yourself that it was just the shock that made it seem so… big. But feeling it right now tells the same story.

You both moan in unison, with Jungkook’s hands instinctively going to grab your waist, pressing you against him harder.

As you do an experimental roll of your hips, Jungkook lets out a guttural groan that makes your body tingle with want. His hands tighten their hold on your waist, and the next thing you know, he’s flipping you on your back in one swift motion. He presses his knee to your covered core, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious friction of something hard against your clit.

“Ah…” you tilt your head to the side when Jungkook begins peppering kisses on the side of your mouth, down to your jaw; nipping and nibbling. “Oh, Jungkook,”

“Fuck, baby,” The nickname slips past his lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you watch as Jungkook kisses his way down your cleavage, made easily accessible by the undone top buttons of your shirt. He noses along the line of your bra, leaves butterfly kisses on his path. “Baby…”

“Jungkook– please…”

Suddenly, he looks up at you, eyes hooded with what you can only identify as lust. “Do you want this?” he husks out.

You don’t even have to think about it, a “Yes” escaping your lips just right after his question drops. “I want this. So bad.”

“Goddamn it,” He hisses, diving into your chest and taking in a huge inhale in the swell of your breasts. You feel lightheaded, brain hazy and not thinking about anything else but his hands all over you and the hard evidence of his mutual want pressing against your abdomen.

Until he breaks away.

Perplexed, you look at him with questioning eyes.

“Listen, angel,” Jungkook inhales a sharp breath, gaze dropping onto your lips. “I want nothing but to strip you off these clothes and show you how much I want you right now—” your mouth parts when he presses his hips against yours, his hand squeezing your rib, sitting dangerously close to your breast. “but I don’t want us to have sex for the first time in this… motel room. And I don’t have a condom with me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Jungkook looks defeated, like it physically pained him to even admit that to you; face settling in a deep scowl.

You look around… and honestly, you get it.

You turn to look at him and then let your hands slowly wander across his chest as you sigh deeply.

“You’re right.” You nibble on your bottom lip as you brush past his nipples, noting the way his biceps flex at the touch. “It’s a shame.”

“__…” It sounded like a gentle warning, the way Jungkook spoke your name.

But you don’t let it deter your hands from traveling down south, ignoring his sudden heavy breaths on top of you when your finger stops at his zipper.

You look at him again, meeting his stare.

“Can we just do something else, then?” You blink meekly. And you watch as his mouth parts when your hand slowly rubs the hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. He’s so big, and so heavy. You wonder how it’d look like in your hand. “You’re so hard.”

But Jungkook takes your wrist, effectively stopping you from palming him.

You immediately frown, about to say something when Jungkook drowns it out with a hot kiss.

His tongue dances against yours in a fervid motion, knocking you out of breath, completely unexpecting the passion he puts into the kiss.

But you don’t mind one bit, not when he begins kissing his way down your jaw, the column of your neck, until his hands skirt along your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” Jungkook asks, already fiddling with the buttons. You nod unabashedly, body anticipating with want.

He makes quick work of the button down until all it reveals is you in your bra and panties. Jungkook takes a sharp breath and hones in on your tattoo once again.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, and he sounds so mesmerized you don’t even know what to say. He traces the ink along your rib with light kisses that make you squirm. “This okay?”

He looks up at you, and you swore you never saw a man this beautiful on top of you in your whole life.

“Hmm.”

Suddenly, you hear a click, and you watch as your bra loosens with Jungkook taking it off you completely. Breasts spilling out from the confines, you both moan when Jungkook squeezes them in his palms.

“Absolutely beautiful– fuck.” He flicks your nipples, pinches them in his fingers until they’re tight and peaked. He lowers his head to kiss around the swell of your breast, nipping around the skin until he furthers down, breath ghosting along your hips.

You moan and grab at his shoulders at the tentative touch of his finger over your core, pushing your head back when he presses his thumb right where your nub is.

“Can’t tell you how much I’ve been wanting to do this,” Jungkook rasps, continuing to rub his thumb over your clothed core. You can feel your wetness starting to seep through, hands clutching his shoulders tighter by the second.

“Y-yeah?”

“Hm. You’ve been teasing me all night long.”

Jungkook hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties, and in an absurdly, ridiculously slow motion, peels the flimsy fabric right off your legs.

You bite your lip. “How’d you say so?”

There’s a small tilt to Jungkook’s lips that you see before he lowers his head to press a kiss on your inner thigh. When you squirm, he tightens his grip, looks up at you and holds an intense gaze as he slowly licks a bold stripe across your slit.

You feel a gush of wetness coming out just as you feel a tingle in your groin, words getting caught in your tongue when you watch Jungkook zero in on your pussy.

“You in that goddamn dress made me almost malfunction at the rooftop,” he chuckles, kissing your clit. “Showing me your tattoo, suggesting to swim in our underwear. You know, I think you know exactly what you do to me.”

You inhale a sharp breath when you see him wetting one of his fingers in his mouth. It’s sinful the way he looks at you as he slowly dips it in your aching entrance, watching the way your mouth parts in an obscene o-shape.

“I-I don’t.” you deny, hands finding the rumpled sheets and gripping them tight at the anticipation of what he’s going to do next.

But Jungkook just chuckles; a dark, rich sound. And it’s the first time you hear something like that from him. Almost ominous, sinister. It excites you.

“Hm, I don’t think so. But it’s okay. I’ll let it slide for now,” He kisses your thigh again, teasing. “What do you want, baby? Let me take care of you and this wet pussy. So gorgeous, just like the rest of you.”

“Your mouth,” you say with no hesitation, “and your fingers.” You bite your lip, thinking about it before you throw out a small, “Please.”

Jungkook chuckles, leaning in so he could press a kiss on your mound. That evokes a shiver from you, legs jumping with equal need and want.

“Greedy and polite,” He grips your thighs, “I like that.”

“Jung—”

“Stay still now, baby.” He says before separating your glistening folds with his fingers and diving right in.

It tears out a cry from your vocal chords, the way he swirls his tongue around your clit and kisses around the crevice of your heat like he’s making out with it. His grunts and moans, along with the sloppy sounds of your slick is so lewd to the ears you’re almost certain the people on the other side of the room could hear it if they weren’t asleep – but you find you don’t really care if they could, because Jungkook is licking you clean like his life depended on it.

“Ah– fuck, feels so good– p-please…”

“Hm?” His hum vibrates in your pussy that rips a moan from you, hands grabbing at his head in panic at the pleasure.

Warm hands smooth up your thighs to pin them down again, preventing you from squirming too much. Now you’re immobile in his hold, panting at the sensation of him enveloping your clit and giving it a harsh suck that causes your hips to buck against his face. At that jerky movement from you, Jungkook splays his hand on your stomach, and you fall back down with a thump and a pleasurable cry.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He whispers in a raspy tone. He does give you an apologetic kiss on the mound, even giving a slow lick from your hole and dipping inside for a brief, solid second before he returns to your clit, putting it in a hot suction in his mouth again, causing a sharp moan to escape past your lips. “I love the pretty sounds you make for me, pretty girl. Keep that up for me, yeah?”

You whimper, nodding feverishly and grabbing at his hair tightly when he starts rubbing his thumb on your clit again, watching him lightheaded as he focuses on spreading the slick all over your pussy. Slowly, he dips in his ring finger in your aching hole, satisfying the emptiness you’ve long felt with his thick digit.

When you look down, you catch Jungkook staring at you while he digs deeper, and you hold his gaze until he’s knuckles deep; mouth parting at how unbelievably full you already feel with just a finger.

He begins sliding it out, but it’s not long until he’s putting it again and repeating the manner in a stroke that progresses its pace by the second.

“Jungkook– shit,” you moan, thrashing underneath him. “F-fuck. I can’t– baby– fuck—”

“Hm?” he quickens his pace, enjoying the way more slick oozes out from your pussy at his lewd ministrations.

“M-more. I want more– oh my god,”

And he doesn’t need to get told twice because as soon as you mention it, he adds in his middle finger, stroking your inner walls like it’s a job he doesn’t play about.

“So pretty. Wanna make you cum,” he breaks eye contact in favor of enveloping your clit in his mouth again.

This time, Jungkook emphasizes his sentiment by putting more enthusiasm in the way he licks you; messy and sloppy than before. He retracts his fingers from your pussy, and you’re about to reprimand him but your words die on your tongue when he only uses his fingers to keep your folds open to dip his tongue in your sopping hole, drawing eights in your inner walls that have you almost seeing stars.

His other hand that was once pinning you down against the rumpled sheets is now on your clit, rubbing it while he eats you feverishly like it’s his last meal.

Your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming sensation of his tongue and mouth and fingers – hands pushing his head down unintentionally and moaning uncontrollably. Jungkook’s nose brushes against your clit as he devours your pussy, keeping his pace steady until pleasure coils in the pit of your belly.

Jungkook seems to notice that, as he once again slips his fingers in you, curling it so deep and expertly finding that sweet spot inside you it makes your toes curl at your impending orgasm.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum,”

“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, swirling his tongue around your clit in frantic circles. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby? Hm?”

“Yes– yes, yes!” You cry. “Don’t stop please, don’t stop,”

“I know… you can cum for me, angel. So gorgeous. Such a good girl…” Jungkook keeps his pace steady, doubling his efforts until he feels you thrashing wildly he couldn’t really keep you down.

“Jungkook—!”

The coil snaps in the pit of your stomach, vision going white at the orgasm that hits you like a ten-wheeler truck.

“Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, riding out the waves of your pleasure by slowing down his strokes this time, your walls clenching around his fingers, still spasming.

When you whine, he unsheathes his fingers from your tight walls. You watch as he lowers his head down to dive in you once again, feeling even more boneless when you hear a shameless slurp that comes from him licking you clean.

You feel tired, sleepy, but happy all at once; your throat feeling absolutely dry from all the moaning you did earlier. Nonetheless, you smile as Jungkook looks up at you again – feeling suddenly shy when you see the slick that covers up his chin.

“Feelin’ good?” He says, grinning.

You roll your eyes that earns you a chuckle from him.

Jungkook slowly returns to you with kisses to your hips, up to your stomach; to your tattoo, the swell of your breasts, and then your sternum before you wrap your arms around his shoulders, craning your neck when his lips slowly ascend there.

“I feel tired,” you say, revelling in the kisses Jungkook plants on the base of your neck. “You might have broken me, mister.”

He chuckles against your jaw, playfully nipping then kissing the spot.

“Hm. I hope not. I’d feel really bad.”

A giggle slips past you, and you welcome Jungkook’s lips when he kisses your mouth, tongue dipping in immediately.

Suddenly, you feel his very obvious erection against your stomach, making you break away from the kiss.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows.

You cup his face, biting your lip as you glance down. “What about you?”

It takes Jungkook a while to get what you meant as he directs his gaze down to where your eyes are. Then he looks at you again, chuckling, “Don’t worry, I’ll manage.” You frown. Jungkook erases your pout with a kiss. “Come on, I’ll clean you up and we’ll sleep right after. Sounds good?”

“Okay.” you give him a smile. Jungkook pecks you on the cheek before he stands up from the bed with grace that you know you cannot pull off after doing the deed.

“I’ll take this.” he picks up your shirt and gestures to the other side of the room.

You feel like every bone in your body had been liquefied, feeling absolutely nothing but pleasurable ache in between your thighs as you lay on your side, admiring Jungkook’s back as he disappears into the bathroom.

It’s not long before he returns with a dampened portion of the polo shirt, and you swear you had to tell every part of you to say nothing as he tells you to open up and use the shirt to clean you up.

You’re a heated mess when Jungkook comes back to bed, but you both don’t really say anything and let the comfortable silence hang in the air as you curl to your side with Jungkook sidling up against your back.

In a bout of sudden braveness, you take his arm and wrap it around you. He wastes no time and pushes you closer to him, burying his head in your hair.

“It’s almost morning…” you whisper as you take a peak of the window, finding a much lighter shade on the background compared to the pitch black night sky you walked in earlier.

Jungkook hums. “It’s almost 5. I’ll set an alarm at 8 and we’ll check out.”

You’re too sleepy to function at that point, couldn’t fight the drowsiness of sleep that pushes against your eyelids.

All you remember is a light kiss against your hair and Jungkook tightening his arm around you before you completely drift off to sleep.

#I AM OBSESSED #jungkook fic #fav fics #alexia’s favs

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alexiajjk · 1 month ago

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[518/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡

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alexiajjk · 1 month ago

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this was so good omg??????!!!?!!!? can’t wait to read part 2

Entropy | jjk (m) | one-shot

College AU | Fuckboy Jungkook x Physics Student Y/N

“The universe tends toward chaos.” You thought that only applied to black holes and entropy equations — not boys with lip rings and midnight eyes. You were wrong.

genre: smut, one-shot, college AU, fuckboy!jungkook, explicit sexual content, strong language, alcohol consumption, casual hookup, reader is sexually inexperienced but very willing, Jungkook is fully feral and obsessed

Wc: 10k

author's note: your feedback means the world to me. 🖤

The second law of thermodynamics states that the universe naturally tends toward disorder. That every system, left to its own devices, will eventually fall apart.

You never thought it would apply to people, but by the third week of finals season, everything begins to decay.

Not in any spectacular, cinematic way—no dramatic breakdowns in the hallway or rain-soaked monologues—but in smaller, quieter disintegrations. You begin to lose the will to care whether your iced coffee is more milk than caffeine. Your drawers become a graveyard of crumpled hoodies and socks that don’t match. Your planner, once color-coded with obsessive devotion, now lies somewhere under your bed, abandoned and blank.

Entropy, you think. The tendency of systems to slide into disorder. You remember the diagram from second-year thermodynamics: the universe’s cruel, inevitable drift toward chaos. You’d once found peace in it. A kind of comfort, knowing it wasn’t your fault when things fell apart. It was just nature.

These days, you’re not so sure. You stand in front of the mirror in your dorm’s bathroom, toothbrush hanging from the corner of your mouth, hair piled into a loose, too-honest bun that makes your ears look uneven. You’ve been wearing the same oversized MIT hoodie for three days straight. Not because it means anything to you—you didn’t even apply there—but because it smells like clean laundry and covers the fact that your bra is somewhere inside a laundry basket you no longer have the energy to dig through.

You look exhausted. Not dramatically so, but in the way that makes people hesitate before asking you for anything. You’ve started getting that look in the lab, in lectures, even from your professors: the quiet, pitying glance that says, You’re doing too much, and it’s starting to show. And still, you keep doing it.

Physics doesn’t reward soft emotions. It rewards answers. You know how to calculate momentum, how to model projectile motion, how to explain wave-particle duality to a room full of distracted undergrads—but you don’t know how to mourn something that was never truly yours. You don’t know how to feel cleanly. You only know how to function.

You open the bathroom cabinet, close it again, stare blankly at your own reflection. Your eyes are ringed in fatigue. Your lips are chapped. Your last kiss was over a month ago and didn’t even taste like goodbye.

You don’t miss him. Not really. He was nice. Predictable. Gentle. He always held your hand like he was asking permission. But the moment he ended it—voice calm, like he was discussing his meal plan—you didn’t feel heartbreak. You felt relief.

And maybe that’s worse. Your phone buzzes on the sink. You glance down and see Hyeri’s name.

Hyeri: *I swear to god if you ghost me I’m breaking into your room.*Hyeri: *Put on a dress. He’s throwing a party.*You: *Who.*Hyeri: *Jeon fucking Jungkook.*You: No thanks.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard.

There it is—that name again. A name that lives in the background of your life like ambient noise. Jeon Jungkook: a boy you’ve never actually spoken to, but whose existence seems to follow you in ways you can’t explain. Shared classes. Group projects. Dorm parties where he arrived shirtless and left with a girl on his arm. Mutual friends who describe him with exasperated fondness. A smirk that belongs on someone far less academically average.

You’ve never had a reason to care about him. Not really. Except for that one night at the start of second year, when you sat across from him at a friend-of-a-friend’s birthday and watched him lick whipped cream off his thumb while explaining something about SEO strategy. You’d gone home that night and googled what the hell SEO actually was.

You’d forgotten about him after that. Or tried to.

Until your best friend started playing matchmaker in group chats you weren’t in. Until the campus gossip pages kept posting blurry photos of his arms. Until his name started appearing in conversations he wasn’t even part of, and every girl said the same thing:

Jeon Jungkook fucks like it’s a contact sport.

For a brief moment, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like to be tackled by him, but quickly buried that thought beneath a mountain of coursework, equations, and meticulously organized lab notes - all those neat, contained systems that made sense.

Hyeri: Come. Please. One drink. One dance. You’re not allowed to rot in that hoodie forever.

Chewing your lip, you glance from the worn hoodie to your reflection, then finally to the door. Maybe this isn't about Jungkook, or even your ex - maybe it's simply time to feel something real before summer consumes what's left of you. With a quiet sigh, you make your decision.

You: Fine. But if it’s weird, I’m faking a panic attack and leaving.

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.✧.

You don’t know when the universe started to unravel.Maybe it was the breakup. Maybe it was that lab partner who kept messing up your simulations. Maybe it was all the times you sat through lectures with tears threatening at the corners of your eyes and no one noticing, not even once. But tonight, it feels like something bigger. Like the universe itself has decided to press its thumb against your spine and push.

Entropy unfolds around you like a slow dance. The universe's natural descent into disorder feels inevitable tonight as you stand before the mirror, half-heartedly curling your lashes. Mascara won't fix the exhaustion in your eyes, won't erase the weeks you've spent hiding from your reflection. You barely recognize the person staring back at you anymore.

Hyeri’s outside your door, already half-drunk, yelling through the crack like she owns the world. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m breaking in and dressing you myself!”

You shout back a profanity, then drop your towel and step into the dress she brought you. It wasn’t made for physics students. That much is clear. It’s navy satin, too short to be safe and too tight to be responsible. The neckline dips like a threat, the fabric clings like it knows something you don’t. You smooth it down your sides, catching your reflection by accident — and then not looking away.

Your hair’s still wet from the world’s fastest shower. You didn’t bother with foundation. Just a bit of liner, a swipe of something sheer on your lips. You look like someone you don’t quite know. Someone who might dance. Someone who might say yes to something reckless. The zipper sticks halfway up your back, and when you reach to fix it, a strand of hair slips free and falls across your face. You look messy. Unpolished. A little chaotic.

A laugh escapes your lips as you realize that in your disheveled state, you've finally aligned with the universe's natural tendency toward chaos.

There’s a knock at the door. “I swear to god, Y/N—”

You open it before she can finish, and Hyeri shuts up mid-rant.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

You grab your bag. “Don’t say anything.”

“Okay,” she says, eyes wide, “but if Jungkook doesn’t try to kiss you tonight, I’m checking him for a concussion.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flutters with a newfound awareness - the whisper of satin against skin, the cool night air dancing across your thighs.

Following Hyeri through the dimly lit stairwell and into the waiting Uber, you can't help but notice how different the city feels tonight. Summer lingers in the air, heavy with possibility, as if the universe itself is contemplating what kind of chaos to unleash. For once, you're ready to embrace whatever comes.

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.✧.

You smell the party before you hear it. It’s not unpleasant — not the kind of sour, suffocating stink of undergrad dorm parties you’ve long since grown out of. No, this one smells like summer. Like too-sweet alcohol and chlorine and night air that clings to bare shoulders. There’s music, loud enough to rattle the pavement beneath your heels, bass bleeding through windows too big to hide the chaos inside.

Jungkook’s house is exactly what you’d expect from a rich boy with too many friends and too little restraint. Modern, massive, perched on a hill just far enough from campus to feel forbidden. The front door’s already wide open. People flow in and out like blood through a vein. Someone’s laughing on the porch. Someone else is making out against the railing. You pause before going in.

Hyeri’s already halfway up the steps, turning back when she notices you hesitate. “Don’t look like you’re here to study. Shoulders back. Chin up. You look hot as hell.”

You follow her inside. The temperature rises immediately. The music hits your chest in waves, something fast and rhythmic that people pretend they know the words to. There’s a sheen of sweat on everyone’s skin, cups half-empty and already sticky with fingerprints. Lights pulse in warm golds and deep reds, designed to make everyone look better than they are.

You keep your eyes low at first, weaving through bodies, careful not to bump into anyone. You’re not used to being seen. Not like this. Not in something this tight, this short. You feel the way the fabric pulls across your hips, how it shifts with each step. You’re suddenly aware of the line of your thighs, the exposed stretch of your back.

The weight of someone's stare draws your attention upward, and there he stands: Jeon Jungkook, watching you with deliberate intensity.

Slouched on the arm of an expensive couch, drink in one hand, tattooed fingers curled around plastic like they’ve never had to hold anything heavier. He’s wearing a black button-up — open halfway down his chest, sleeves rolled to his elbows — and a pair of dark jeans that might as well be a crime. His lip ring catches the light when he smirks at something one of his friends says, and his head tilts just slightly — because he’s looking at you.

You almost miss it, the way the smirk dies and reforms into something slower. Sharper. His gaze lingers, dips — not in a crude, hungry way, but in a way that makes you feel scanned. Like he’s logging every inch of skin, every tilt of your body, every second you hold eye contact.

His expression remains neutral as his gaze lingers, drinking in every detail of your presence. The intensity of his stare follows you across the room as Hyeri pulls you toward the kitchen, chattering about shots and mixers while reminding you to "hydrate between drinks, you nerd." Even through the press of bodies and pulsing music, you can feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch.

The kitchen is a chaotic display of solo cups and liquor bottles, with fruit swimming in something that promises tomorrow's regret. You grab a drink more for something to occupy your hands than anything else, the cold plastic a flimsy shield as cherry and vodka touch your lips.

When Hyeri tugs at your hand with an excited "Come dance!", you pause. The familiar heat of his gaze draws your attention back across the room. He's standing now, drink still in hand, and when your eyes meet, his lips curve into a smile that's neither cocky nor practiced. It's something more dangerous - slow, curious, possessive - as if he's already seen how this night ends. As if the universe itself has chosen its preferred form of chaos.

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.✧.

You lose Hyeri somewhere between the kitchen and the music.

She disappears into the haze of bodies with the kind of confidence you’ve never been able to fake—throwing her arms around someone you don’t recognize, laughing too loudly, swaying like she’s part of the beat itself. The living room’s been cleared just enough to form a makeshift dance floor, though calling it that feels generous. It’s a swarm. Sweaty, uncoordinated, pulsing with bass and alcohol.

You hover at the edge for a moment, half-expecting yourself to turn back. But your feet don’t move. You feel warm. Lightheaded. A little less real with every second. And you know, before you even look again, that he’s still there.

He doesn’t approach like he’s chasing something. He approaches like he’s already caught it.

You feel him before you see him—something magnetic pulling at the corner of your awareness. Then you turn your head, and he’s suddenly beside you, crowding your space without brushing you once. His shirt clings to the lines of his chest. His breath smells faintly of whiskey and mint.

“Didn’t know physics majors danced,” he murmurs, not loud but close enough that the words slide against your neck.

You don’t flinch. “Didn’t know business majors could form full sentences.”

That earns a laugh. Low. A little sharp. He doesn’t look away. The song shifts, something slower, bass-heavy, almost liquid in the way it pours over the crowd. His hand doesn’t touch you—not yet—but you feel his presence pressing in, daring you to move first.

“You wanna?” he asks, a single word softened by the tilt of his mouth. It’s not polite. Not romantic. But his tone says he already knows the answer.

You shouldn't dance with him, but nothing about tonight has followed any semblance of reason. When you nod, he steps behind you, eliminating all space between your bodies. His hands find your hips with casual precision, thumbs brushing the exposed skin between your dress and thighs - not quite inappropriate, but enough to make your breath catch and spine straighten.

You let the music guide your movements, following pure instinct rather than practiced steps. The weight of his hands sets your rhythm, his grip subtle yet firm as heat radiates from his chest against your back. He stays silent, letting his touch speak volumes - possessive, intentional, marking.

When his lips graze your ear, he murmurs, "You're not what I expected."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Your voice emerges unfamiliar - soft, low, wrapped in heat.

“I don’t know,” he says. “You just… move like you’ve been pretending not to want this.”

You lean back—not into him, not quite. Just enough to let your head fall against his shoulder, enough for your cheek to brush the edge of his jaw.

“Maybe I have,” you whisper.

That makes him exhale through his nose, a near-silent sound of disbelief.One of his hands slides lower, fingers dragging down the side of your thigh through your dress, subtle under the colored lights. You don’t stop him. Don’t even flinch. You’re past that now—past logic, past caution. You gave up control the second you walked through the door. Your hips roll against his, slow, testing. He curses under his breath.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters.

You smile, dizzy with the rush of power you didn’t know you had. “Good.”

The beat slows again. He doesn’t move. Neither do you. You're suspended there, in the strobe-flecked dark, wrapped in the tension of something neither of you is ready to name. You can feel the way his body hardens against yours. The restraint in the way he keeps his hands from wandering farther. The storm gathering behind his eyes.

And then someone spills a drink, somewhere close, and the moment fractures just enough for you to step away.

You walk toward the back door without a word. Toward the warm night air, toward the sound of water, toward the next inevitable collapse in this universe gone fully to chaos.

Behind you, Jungkook follows.

The patio is cooler, but it doesn’t help. Not really.

You step out into the night air with your plastic cup still clutched in your hand, the condensation sliding between your fingers. The hem of your dress clings to the backs of your thighs, slick with sweat and static, and your pulse hasn’t slowed since the dance floor. You try to blame it on the alcohol. On the heat. On the music still throbbing behind you.

Not on him. You don’t dare glance behind you. You don’t have to. You already know he’s there. The pool glows in blue and gold, lights flickering beneath the surface like someone bottled the stars and poured them into water. A few people are floating lazily, limbs draped over inflatable chairs, laughter drifting up like smoke. The jacuzzi hums beside it, steam rising from its surface, soft and almost cinematic. Someone’s speaker plays a slower song now—trance-like, sensual, too low to sing along to.

And there he is again. He emerges from the shadows like the night belongs to him. Still shirtless, only now his skin shines with a sheen of sweat. His boxers ride low on his hips, exposing just enough to make your mouth dry. His chest is cut, stomach taut, tattoos black against golden skin. A towel slung over one shoulder. That stupid, crooked grin.

“You look hot,” he says. His tone is casual, but his eyes aren’t. They’re scanning every inch of you, unhurried. “You should cool off.”

You take a slow sip from your drink. “What, in there?”

He nods toward the jacuzzi. “It’s basically mandatory.”

You raise a brow. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

Neither does he, clearly. He steps closer anyway. “Neither do I.”

Before you can respond, Hyeri appears beside you with a shriek, nearly stumbling as she tugs off her dress in one motion. Her red bra and matching lace panties flash under the porch lights like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Come onnnn,” she whines, laughing, already halfway into the water. “It’s just underwear! No one cares!”

“I care,” you mutter, gripping the hem of your dress like it’s the last thing tethering you to reality.

“Then stop being so uptight,” she says—and with no warning, she shoves you forward.

You stumble with a yelp. The cup flies from your hand. Your knees buckle as hot water surrounds you, silk dragging against your skin, heavy and clinging. You surface gasping, soaked from head to toe, hair plastered to your forehead.

“Hyeri!” you snap, voice shrill, but she’s laughing too hard to answer.

Someone whistles. Someone else claps. Jungkook’s smirking as he lowers himself in across from you, water sloshing up over his chest. He leans back, spreads his arms wide across the edge, like this is his throne and you’ve just been delivered to it.

And your dress—god, your dress.

The satin is ruined. It sticks to your stomach, your thighs, your chest. The neckline’s slipped almost indecently low, and you know without looking that the fabric is nearly see-through now, the curve of your bra showing underneath. You tug at it beneath the surface, cheeks flaming.

“It’s not that kind of party,” you mutter, voice tight.

But he’s already watching you like it is. “You’re overdressed.”

You shoot him a look. “Not anymore.”

He smiles, slow and lazy, and leans closer. “Then lose it.”

You hesitate. But the water is warm, the music hazy, the alcohol swimming in your bloodstream like a tide. And your dress is clinging like second skin, dragging with every breath. You sigh. Slide the straps off your shoulders. Shimmy out of the fabric under the surface until it floats around you like a drowning petal. You drape it over the side without ceremony.

Now it’s just you in your bra and underwear. Bare legs. Wet skin. Nothing left to hide behind. And he’s watching you like he wants to ruin you with just his eyes.

Conversation rises around you—someone retells a wild hookup story, someone else splashes a drink over the jets—but none of it registers. You can feel Jungkook's thigh brushing yours beneath the water. His hand finds your knee. Slides just above it.

You breathe in. Let it happen. The moment holds like that. Suspended. Like a physics problem with no solution—just two bodies and friction and heat, variables with too much potential energy, waiting to snap.

Then someone splashes. Water flies up into your face, and you blink hard, flinching.

“Shit,” you mumble, rubbing your eye. Your contact is out of place—stinging, burning, blurring your vision.

"Everything okay?" Jungkook's voice softens with concern as he moves closer.

"Just got something in my eye," you manage, blinking rapidly.

He pulls himself out of the water in one fluid motion, muscles glistening as he reaches for a towel. "Bathroom's inside - I've got eyedrops upstairs. Plus something dry you can change into."

The offer hangs between you. Water drips from his hair down his neck, his soaked boxers clinging to his frame as he extends his hand. You pause, just for a moment, before accepting both his help and what it implies.

The hallway is quiet—eerily so after the chaos of the party below. The music becomes nothing but a muffled hum, thudding through the floorboards as if the house is holding its breath with you. Water drips from your hair to your bare shoulders, your bra clinging uncomfortably to your skin beneath the oversized towel Jungkook threw over you. The soaked fabric of your underwear sticks between your thighs as you walk, your steps squelching against the hardwood.

He walks just ahead, shirtless and dripping, his boxers clinging to every muscle of his thighs. His back is broad, his tattooed arm flexing as he opens a door on the left, pushing it open with casual ease.

“Bathroom,” he says, flicking on the light. “Eyedrops are in the cabinet.”

You step inside. The air is cool, the tile colder beneath your feet. A dim light above the mirror flickers before settling into a soft glow. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror—you already know you look like something undone. Makeup smudged. Hair clumped into wet strands. Skin flushed from heat and embarrassment and him.

You open the cabinet, find the eyedrops instantly. Your fingers tremble as you tip your chin back, blinking the liquid in. The sting fades slowly.

When you lower your gaze, he’s leaning in the doorway, shoulder against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t speak. Just watches. Like he’s cataloging every movement, every breath, every second you give him.

You clear your throat. “Thanks.”

He nods. “Didn’t want your eye falling out on my watch.”

You laugh, quiet. “So thoughtful.”

“I am,” he says, straightening. He steps toward you, slow. Measured. “You should let me show you.”

Your pulse skips. “Show me what?”

His eyes dip. “How thoughtful I can be.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s weak. Your body’s already reacting, legs stiffening slightly, breath catching when he stops in front of you, close enough that the heat of his skin warms yours. The water still dripping from his hair catches the light.

“You’re wet,” he murmurs, glancing down.

“Sharp observation.”

He hums. “Not just from the jacuzzi, I think.”

Your eyes snap up. His are burning now—darker, lower, slow-burning coal beneath thick lashes. His voice dips.

“You gonna let me dry you off?”

You don’t answer.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Or should I make you wetter first?”

Your knees threaten to give out.

He steps back before you can respond, smirking like he already knows he’s winning. “Come on,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’ll give you something dry to wear.”

You hesitate. You shouldn’t. You know what this is. But you take his hand anyway.

The bedroom is dim, lit only by a lamp in the corner and the moonlight spilling through half-closed blinds. The air is warmer here. Softer. And everything smells like him—spice, skin, shampoo. The bed is rumpled. There’s a hoodie thrown over a chair, a single black ring on the nightstand, and a half-empty glass of water.

You stand awkwardly at the edge of the room, arms crossed tightly over the towel.

He crosses to a dresser, pulls out a black T-shirt and a pair of soft-looking sweatpants, both oversized. He tosses them to the bed and turns to face you.

“You can change here,” he says. “I’ll be good.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You don’t even believe that.”

He grins. “No. But I like hearing you say it.”

You look at the clothes. You look at him.

And then—very slowly—you loosen the towel.

It falls to the floor.

The air shifts. It goes still. Almost reverent.

His eyes drag down your body in a slow, devastating sweep. Your wet bra clings to your chest, nipples clearly visible beneath the sheer fabric. Your underwear is nearly transparent, stretched taut across your hips, the waistband twisted from the way you shifted under the water. Your skin is flushed, dotted with goosebumps. You don’t cover yourself.

He doesn’t move. For a moment, he just stares—mouth parted, throat working as he swallows hard. His cock twitches in his boxers, and the fabric can no longer hide it.

You speak first.“Thought you were gonna be good.”

His gaze lifts—slow, hungry. His voice is hoarse when he answers. “I lied.”

He sits on the bed, legs spread wide, his cock hard and obvious beneath the wet fabric. He leans back on his hands and looks at you like he already owns you. “Come here.”

You move towards him with slow, measured steps, each movement drawing his gaze along the curves of your body. Your soaked bra clings to your skin as you approach, and when you finally stop before him, his exhale is strained with barely contained desire.

He tilts his head. “Can I touch you now?”

You nod. It’s barely a breath.

He reaches forward, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs, then over your hips, thumbs brushing the waistband of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up. “You don’t even know.”

“I think I do,” you whisper.

And he grins, wild and crooked and starved. “Good girl.”

His eyes are on your mouth when you breathe.

“Come here,” he says again, voice husky, deeper than it was downstairs. There’s no playfulness in it anymore. Just want.

You step forward, letting your knees brush the outside of his. He doesn’t move. Then, slowly, deliberately, you lift one leg over his thigh, then the other, and lower yourself into his lap.

The second your hips meet his, you feel it — the hard line of his cock pressing against the thin cotton of your panties. You both freeze. His breath stutters, jaw flexing as his fingers curl into the sheets beside him. He looks up at you like you’ve just ruined him.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what you do to me.”

Your cheeks burn, but you don’t look away.

He reaches for your waist, fingers spreading wide as he guides you gently — forward, then back. The friction is slow. Torturous. His cock slides along the soaked crotch of your panties with every pass, dragging over your clit in a way that makes your thighs twitch.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, like it’s a confession. “You’ve been wet since the dance, haven’t you?”

You open your mouth to argue, but it comes out a moan instead.

His hands roam. Over your waist, your ribs, thumbs grazing the undercurve of your breasts. He doesn’t touch your nipples — not yet. He’s savoring. Mapping you like something rare and sacred. Your fingers dig into his shoulders for balance, and he lets his head fall forward, lips grazing the slope of your neck.

“You smell like heat,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your pulse. “Like you’re meant to be fucked.”

The air leaves your lungs in one sharp exhale. He sucks at your throat once — soft, then harder — enough to leave a mark. Your hips grind down harder by accident, and he groans into your skin.

“God, baby,” he breathes, voice crumbling, “I want you to ride me just like this. Slow. Fuck—just like that.”

You drag your hips again, letting your soaked panties rub over his cock, and his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“You like that?” you whisper, breath shaking.

He looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, and smiles like the devil.

“You have no idea.”

He rolls his hips up into yours once, sharply. You gasp.

“Wanna feel you come on me like this,” he mutters, pressing a kiss beneath your jaw. “Make a mess all over my lap. Let me ruin these pretty little panties you wore just for me.”

You whimper. His cock pulses beneath you, hot and thick and aching against your soaked center.

“Say you want it,” he whispers. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I want it,” you gasp, breathless. “Jungkook—please…”

And he groans, deep and raw.

“I’m gonna take my fucking time with you.”

You don’t realize how hard you’re breathing until he stills you.

His hands slide beneath your thighs, gripping them firmly, and with a strength that shouldn’t feel as gentle as it does, he lifts you. You gasp as he lays you back across the bed, your legs draped over the edge, your hair fanning against the pillows like you were made to be framed like this—bare and gasping beneath his stare.

He follows you down slowly. Drops to his knees like it's instinct. Not cocky. Not rushed. Like he’s been waiting to kneel here since the second he saw you. Your thighs tremble as he presses them open, fingers leaving faint imprints against your skin. He slides his palms under your knees, pushing them farther apart, and for a second, he just looks at you. At the damp curve of your panties, the way the fabric clings, the way you shift slightly under his stare like the heat between your legs has turned unbearable.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathes.

His hands grip the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips without thinking. He peels them down slowly, watching them drag over your skin like he wants to memorize every inch. When they reach your ankles, he tosses them somewhere behind him—but his eyes never leave you. Then he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is almost too soft to process. Just the tip, a teasing flick across your clit that makes your entire body jolt. You clutch at the sheets, your back arching when he does it again—firmer this time. He groans the second he tastes you.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue from your entrance all the way up. “How the fuck do you taste like this?”

Your thighs twitch. He presses his palms against them to keep you open, steady, and lowers his mouth again.

This time, it’s not soft. His tongue laps at you with purpose, flattening against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes that make your legs tense and your fingers curl. He moans against you like he’s the one being pleasured, and the vibrations send shocks through your entire body.

You cry out. It’s instinctual—your hips trying to buck, your hand flying to his hair. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you run. He wraps an arm around your thigh, holds you down, and slips two fingers inside you without warning. Your moan is wrecked.

The stretch, the heat, the way his tongue moves faster now—circling, pressing, teasing just to the edge of pain. It’s too much. Not enough. Everything. Your head falls back against the mattress.

“Jungkook—” It’s a whimper, broken. “Oh my god…”

He groans again, tongue working faster, fingers curling inside you like he knows exactly where to find you, exactly how to press until you’re gasping like you’re drowning.

“That’s it,” he rasps against you. “Fuck, baby… let me feel you come on my mouth. Right here. Come for me.”

The pressure builds with each movement of his tongue, your body trembling on the edge as pleasure coils tight and hot within you. When release finally comes, it hits you like a wave — back arching, thighs shaking, lips parting in a cry you can’t control. You feel yourself pulse around his fingers, your orgasm ripping through you in hot, wet pulses that make you sob his name.

He groans low against you and keeps going, tongue flicking as your body shudders, milking every second out of it, chasing every last twitch of pleasure until your hips collapse and your legs fall open. He finally pulls back, face glistening, lips swollen, pupils blown. You’re panting and he stares at you like he’s just won a war. And then—without giving you a second to recover—he grips your thighs and says, voice rough, “Get up.”

You blink, dizzy. “Wha—”

“Mirror,” he says. “Now.”

You’re still catching your breath when he grabs your wrist. Not harshly. Not with force. Just enough pressure to tell you you’re not going anywhere. Your skin is hot, oversensitive, your thighs still twitching, and he’s already pulling you upright like he hasn’t just made you come with nothing but his mouth and two fingers. You follow, unsteady on your feet, your knees weak. Your bra is twisted around your chest, half-askew. Your hair’s stuck to your neck. You feel undone.

And he’s still hard. You catch a glimpse of it as he steps in behind you — the thick outline of his cock straining against the wet cotton of his boxers. You must’ve soaked through his lap earlier, because the front of them is completely dark, clinging to every inch of him. Your throat goes dry.

“Come here,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear, already steering you toward the mirror in the corner of his room. Full-length. Gold-rimmed. Slightly fogged at the edges from the humidity of your bodies.

“I can’t—” you start, still dazed, and his hand cups your jaw from behind.

“You can,” he says, soft but firm. “You’re not done. Not yet.”

He stops you just a step in front of the mirror.

“Look,” he tells you. His voice is low, breathless now. “Look at yourself.”

You do and the girl in the reflection is… not you. Her lips are swollen. Her bra half-off. Her thighs gleaming. Her chest rising and falling like she’s been running for hours. You can see Jungkook’s frame behind you—tall, shirtless, flushed—his arm reaching around your waist, the other pressing flat against your lower back.

Then his hand slides down. Over your stomach. Your panties are gone. You’re bare for him, wet and pulsing and still aching from before. His fingers dip between your legs again.

You gasp. Your head drops forward—but his voice sharpens, right against your ear.

“No. Eyes up. Watch.”

You do. You watch the way your mouth falls open when two fingers slip back inside you, slow and deep. Watch the way your body rocks forward slightly, forced to brace against the glass as he curls them perfectly, his palm dragging over your clit just enough to make your knees buckle.

He wraps his other arm around your waist to keep you upright.

“Good girl,” he whispers, lips brushing your neck.

Your hips twitch. The angle is too perfect. Too much. Every thrust of his fingers sends you crashing forward against your reflection, breath fogging the glass, lips parting with every ragged moan.

“Look how pretty you are when you fall apart,” he murmurs. “You see that?”

You nod, barely. He pumps his fingers harder. Deeper. You feel them hit that spot again, and your entire body shudders. His hips are pressed to your ass now, his cock grinding against your skin with every movement, leaking through his boxers as he fingers you mercilessly.

“You like being watched?” he growls, voice breaking. “Like seeing yourself like this?”

You whimper. “Yes…”

“You wanna come again, don’t you?” His fingers slam into you harder now, knuckles wet, your slick echoing obscenely in the quiet. “You wanna do it while you’re looking me in the eye?”

You lift your head and meet his gaze in the mirror.

And that’s what breaks you. You cry out, loud and raw, body shaking against his, pressed full-length to the glass as your orgasm rips through you again — messier this time, faster, overwhelming. Your legs quake. His fingers never stop. He holds you through it, one arm locking you in place as you fall apart a second time in front of yourself, because of him.

Your breath fogs the mirror in quick, shallow pants. He finally pulls back, wet fingers sliding free with a low, satisfied groan. He looks at you in the mirror—flushed, panting, nearly gone—and leans in to press a slow kiss to your shoulder.

“I could watch you come all night.”

And somehow, you believe him. He pulls back just enough to let you breathe. The mirror’s cooled now, the glass smeared with your fingerprints and fog, the reflection a blur of tangled hair and sweat and wrecked pleasure. Your thighs are shaking. Your skin is damp. You feel like you��ve melted and there’s no putting yourself back together.

Jungkook turns you gently, hand on your waist, guiding you like he’s still not done claiming you.

The backs of your knees hit the mattress, and you let him push you down until you’re flat on your back. Your arms fall limp beside you, and for a moment all you can do is stare up at him. His chest is heaving. His skin is flushed. His cock — thick, red, twitching — strains beneath the cling of his boxers, soaked and sticking to every outline.

Then he hooks his thumbs in the waistband. You can’t look away. The cotton peels down slowly, catching on the head of his cock. He frees it with one hand, and it slaps up against his stomach, flushed and dripping. Your breath catches.

You’ve seen porn. You’ve read things. You’ve imagined. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight of him — him— standing between your knees, eyes dark, cock hard, and so clearly turned on by you. Your thighs press together instinctively. He sees it and smirks then climbs onto the bed. He doesn’t ask. He just leans over you, one hand sliding beneath your back, the other tugging the straps of your bra off your shoulders. You lift your arms without thinking, too far gone to hesitate, and he slides it down and off, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

Your breasts spill free, heavy and flushed and still damp from sweat.

He freezes. Just for a second. “Jesus fuck,” he breathes.

His hand comes up, fingers splayed, and he cups one breast gently, reverently, like it’s something sacred. His thumb grazes your nipple. You shudder.

“You’re unreal,” he murmurs. “So fucking soft… I’ve been staring at these all night.”

You laugh breathlessly. “You haven’t even seen them until now.”

He leans down, presses a kiss between them. “Didn’t have to. I just knew.”

And then he’s straddling your hips, cock in his hand, eyes dark as sin.

You watch, completely still, as he spits into his palm, slicks it over his length, and nestles the head of his cock between your breasts.

Your stomach tightens. He reaches down, gently lifts your hands, guiding them to your own body. “Hold them together for me.”

You obey. Press your breasts around him, the weight of them closing snug around his cock. His breath stutters.

“Just like that,” he whispers. “Fuck—just like that.”

And then he starts to move. It’s slow at first. The head of his cock slides up, nudging under your chin, wet with pre-come. You gasp as it drags back down, gliding slick between your breasts, your skin burning with friction and arousal and humiliation, but god, it turns you on more than you thought possible. You’ve never done this before. Never even thought about it.

But the way he moans? The way his eyes fall half-lidded, hips starting to stutter as he watches his cock disappear between your breasts? It wrecks you. Your thighs press together again. You can feel the wetness leaking out of you — fresh, sticky, proof that even after everything, your body’s still begging.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook groans, one hand gripping the headboard for balance, the other fisting your hair. “You have no idea what this does to me.”

You whimper.

“Look at you,” he pants. “Tits so fucking perfect. Taking all of me. You’re so good—so fucking good—”

The head of his cock taps your chin again, your lips, your throat. You open your mouth on instinct, and he moans loudly.

“You wanna taste it?” he growls. “Wanna suck the tip while I fuck your tits?”

You nod, breathless, and tilt your head just enough to catch him on your tongue the next time he thrusts up. The sound he makes is filthy. His hips falter. His jaw clenches. The hand in your hair tightens.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m not gonna last like this,” he chokes out. “You feel too good. You’re so fucking hot like this. I could come all over these perfect tits and still not be done.”

You whine while he pulls back.

Not because he’s finished — but because he’s holding on. Barely. And because he hasn’t even been inside you yet. He’s panting above you, knees sunk into the mattress on either side of your waist, sweat beading down his chest as his cock pulses between your breasts. The tip is slick, flushed red, twitching with restraint. His eyes are locked on the mess he’s made of your body — your breasts shining, lips parted, your entire body still trembling beneath him.

But you’re not done. You should be. You’ve come twice, your legs are jelly, your skin is hypersensitive — but none of that matters. Because the longer you stare at him, the more you realize that this isn’t enough. Not yet. Not until you’ve had all of him. Not until you’ve tasted the way he’s falling apart.

Your voice is gone. Your mind’s gone too. All you can feel is heat — liquid and pulsing, low in your belly and behind your knees. You want to be good for him. You want to be filthy for him. You want to know what he tastes like. You want to feel his cock on your tongue.

So you shift beneath him. Lift your hands to his thighs, fingers sliding up slowly, dragging over the thick muscle until you reach his hips. He watches you with hooded eyes, breathless, lips wet and parted. You look up at him. And then — without a single word — you stick out your tongue. The way his expression breaks…

“Holy fuck,” he whispers.

His hand comes down, cradling your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he stares like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“You want to suck me off that bad?” he asks, voice rough. “After everything I’ve done to you?”

You nod. Keep your tongue out. Your eyes never leave his. He growls.

“Say it,” he whispers, thumb pressing into your chin. “Be a good girl. Tell me what you want.”

Your voice is hoarse. Desperate. “I want your cock in my mouth, Jungkook… I want to suck you until you lose it. I want to feel you on my tongue, in my throat. I want to taste all of you. Please…”

His jaw clenches. His hips jerk forward instinctively, the tip of his cock brushing your bottom lip.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he mutters. “Open your mouth.”

You do and he guides himself in slowly, head pressing past your lips, the taste of salt and musk blooming over your tongue. You groan softly, and he shudders.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, hand slipping into your hair, wrapping it around his fingers like reins. “Fuck, baby. Look so pretty like this.”

You hollow your cheeks, take him deeper. Inch by inch, tongue curled beneath the shaft, your lips stretched wide. His cock slides in heavy, hot, and you let it, eyes fluttering closed as he presses against the back of your throat.

He hisses through his teeth. “God—fuck, your mouth…”

You moan around him. The vibration makes him groan, hips rolling forward just slightly — enough to make you gag softly around him. Your eyes water. You don’t stop.

Your fingers curl around his thighs. You suck him hard, wet and steady, letting spit drip down your chin, letting it get messy, wanting it to get messy. You want him undone. You want him to lose control.

“Fuck, just like that,” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re so good. You’re fucking perfect.”

He begins to move. Not roughly. Just slow thrusts of his hips, sliding his cock deeper with every pass, using your mouth like he’s been dreaming about it for months. His hand holds your hair tight. His stomach flexes. You can feel him trembling. You flatten your tongue. Let him fuck into your mouth. He starts muttering now — barely coherent.

“Shit… you’re gonna make me come—your fucking mouth—baby, I’m gonna—”

But then he pulls out. You gasp, mouth open, spit trailing from your lips to the head of his cock. He’s shaking.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “Not yet. I need to be inside you.”

You’re still panting when he leans down to kiss you. It’s not gentle. He licks into your mouth, like he can’t bear the space between you anymore. Then he reaches for the drawer.

Pulls out a condom and looks down at you like you’re the only thing in the universe.

“Lie back,” he says. “Let me fuck you right.”

You’re already open for him when he returns. Laid bare, legs parted, lips swollen, chin still shining from spit. Your body aches in the best way — used, touched, ruined — but it’s nothing compared to what you feel when you watch him roll the condom on. His chest is heaving. His thighs are flexed. And his cock, flushed and twitching in his grip, looks almost angry with need.

He climbs between your legs slowly. Like he’s in control. But you can see it now — the tension behind his smirk. The tremble in his breath. He’s been on the edge since you got on your knees, and he’s barely holding on.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough and low. “All spread out for me. Wet as fuck. And you still want more?”

You nod, breathless and he grins. Then lowers himself, his cock brushing against your folds — not pushing in yet, just slapping it lightly across your entrance.

Once. Twice. A third time, with a wet sound that makes you twitch.

You gasp, hips jerking. “Jungkook…”

He groans. “You hear that? That’s how wet you are for me. All this for my cock, baby?”

You whimper. “Yes. All for you.”

He drags the head of his cock through your folds, slow and filthy, coating himself in your slick. Then he holds himself there — right at your entrance — and still doesn’t move.

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you breathe.

He growls. “Nah. Say it right.”

You whimper again, voice breaking. “Please, Jungkook… I want your cock. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you inside.”

He exhales like you’ve punched the air from his lungs. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes in.

It’s slow. Torturous. You feel every inch — the stretch, the pressure, the way your walls cling to him. You gasp, head falling back against the pillows, thighs trembling as he slides deeper.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice guttural. “You’re so tight. So warm… shit—like you were made for me.”

Your mouth falls open. “You feel so good, Jungkook… so fucking big…”

He growls at that — hips pressing all the way in until he’s bottomed out.

“Yeah? You like this?”

“Yes,” you pant. “You fill me so good, I—I can’t think—”

“You don’t need to think,” he breathes. “Just feel.”

Then he starts to move. Slow thrusts at first — deep and deliberate. His hips rock into yours with precision, dragging his cock against every sensitive spot inside you. His body presses into yours with heat and weight and intent, chest nearly touching yours, forearms braced on either side of your head.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “Tight little pussy taking all of me like that.”

You moan — helpless, wrecked, desperate.

“Say it,” he whispers. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s yours,” you breathe, voice trembling. “It’s all yours, Jungkook…”

“Say no one else fucks you like this.”

“No one. Just you—only you—”

He groans loud at that, pace faltering for a beat before he starts pounding harder. He fucks you like he’s trying to leave a mark. Every thrust hits deeper, sharper, hips slapping against your ass. His hand slides up to your chest, gripping one breast, squeezing until you gasp. His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your head back.

“You wanna come for me, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please…”

“You gonna let me watch you fall apart again?”

“Yes—fuck, please, Jungkook—”

He shifts, changes the angle, and suddenly every thrust is grinding against your clit just right. You cry out, back arching, thighs trembling. You’re so close. So fucking close.

“Come for me,” he growls. “Come all over my cock, baby. I wanna feel you tighten around me—come like you fucking mean it.”

And you do.

Your orgasm hits like a supernova — legs locking around his waist, mouth falling open in a scream. Your body pulses around him, walls clenching so hard he nearly loses it with you. He fucks you through it, whispering filth in your ear the whole time, praising you, owning you. When you finally come down, panting and wrecked, he kisses you like he’s starving but he’s not done yet.

You’re still pulsing around him when he pulls out. You gasp, empty in an instant, your body twitching from aftershocks. He kneels back for a breath, staring down at you like he’s trying to burn the image into memory — your legs splayed, your skin flushed, your mouth swollen and wet with the ghost of his name.

And then he flips you fast. You land on your stomach with a surprised moan, face sinking into the pillow, arms collapsing beneath you. Before you can breathe, he’s behind you again, spreading your thighs with greedy hands, pressing his cock between your folds.

“Fuck,” he growls, dragging himself through your slick. “You look so good like this.”

He grabs your hips, lifts you slightly, and pushes back in with one rough thrust. You cry out. Your fingers clutch the sheets. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He just fucks into you—deep, fast, like he’s finally letting go. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, wet and sharp, paired with his ragged moans and your helpless gasps.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, spine arching. “Fuck—Jungkook—yes—”

“You like this?” he snarls. “You like getting fucked like this? Bent over like a toy?”

“Yes,” you pant, no shame left. “I love it—I love your cock—don’t stop—”

He laughs, breathless, feral. His hand slides up your back, tangles in your hair, and pulls. Your back arches instinctively. The burn in your scalp shoots straight to your cunt. You moan like it’s oxygen.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Take it. Take all of it.”

He thrusts harder, faster. Every stroke knocks a sound out of your throat. Your body jolts forward with the force of it, and he only pulls you back harder. And then suddenly his palm lands on your ass, hard and hot. You jerk. Whine. Grind back against him.

“Oh, you like that?” he grits out. “You want me to spank you while I fuck you?”

“Yes—yes, please, Jungkook—”

Smack. Again. Your ass stings, skin heating under each slap, but it just makes everything worse — your walls clamp around him, another orgasm building before you can even prepare for it.

“You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” His voice is sharp now, breathless. “Fucking dripping. So messy. You love being used like this.”

“I love it,” you sob. “I love it—I love being fucked by you—please—please, Jungkook—”

He grabs both your wrists and pulls them behind your back, holding you open while he slams into you, deep and fast, until your vision goes white.

“Come again,” he orders. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

And when you do, it hits harder than before — your body convulsing, vision tunneling, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as your pussy clenches tight around him.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m gonna—”

He groans loud, one final thrust punching deep into you and then he’s coming. Hard. You feel it — the way his whole body tightens behind you, the heat spilling into the condom as he presses as deep as he can go, panting against your spine, voice raw. He holds there for a long moment. Breathing. Trembling. Then slowly, gently, he loosens his grip on your wrists. Brushes a soft kiss over your shoulder. Collapses beside you.

The room is silent now. Just two bodies, sweat-drenched and sore, trembling from everything they weren’t supposed to feel. Your body’s gone heavy. Limbs lax. Muscles aching in the best way. You’re still on your stomach, hair matted to the back of your neck, thighs sticky, lungs slow to catch up. The sheets are wrinkled beneath you. The whole room smells like sweat and sex and the kind of satisfaction that seeps into the bones.

And then he touches you again. A hand slides along your hip — warm, calloused — trailing over the curve of your ass and down your thigh. Then it shifts. Moves up. His thumb grazes the underside of your breast, and his mouth follows a heartbeat later.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, voice soft, half-dazed.

He doesn’t answer. He just mouths at your nipple, lazy and slow, tongue swirling in wet circles while his hand cups the other breast and gives it a greedy squeeze. You gasp. Your back arches instinctively. He hums low in his throat like you're dessert.

“Thought you were done,” you whisper, eyes fluttering.

He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop. “I’m never done with you.”

You whimper. Laugh. Try to turn your face away — but he follows. Crawls up your body, kisses you deep and messy, his hand still palming your breast while his tongue slides into your mouth like he owns it. His lips are sticky, hot. You taste yourself on them.

And you melt all over again. His fingers dig into your ass next. Squeezing. Spreading. Possessive.

“You know,” he rasps, breath fanning over your ear, “I could fuck you like this every day.”

You laugh again — breathless, flushed. “Yeah?”

“Every fucking day.” He groans. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, turning your head slightly, kissing his jaw. “You fuck so good…”

He moans. “You make it easy. Being inside you is like… holy fuck, it’s unreal.”

You roll onto your back, too lazy to fully fight him off. He’s still kissing your chest, dragging his mouth from one nipple to the other, circling slow. His tongue’s warm. Wet. Wicked. Every touch makes you twitch. And your voice—when it comes—is low and teasing.

“You gonna get off on my tits again, or let me put some clothes on?”

“Don’t you dare,” he mutters, pulling back only slightly, eyes dropping to the mess of your ruined panties on the floor. He picks them up with two fingers, holds them hostage. “I’m keeping these.”

You blink. “Jungkook.”

He grins. “For science.”

You snort, still breathless. “That was…” You exhale hard, letting your head fall back. “So fucking needed.”

He grins. “Anytime. I’m very committed to supporting women in STEM.”

You laugh — fully this time. He tosses you his hoodie, then shimmies into his boxers like he isn’t still half-hard just watching you move. You stretch slowly, aching all over, before sitting up and tugging on your dress without underwear. His eyes darken. And then, before you leave, you do it — that final little flick of power he never sees coming. You hook your finger in your mouth. Suck it slowly. Loudly. Let it pop free. Then glance back at him over your shoulder with a sweet, filthy smile.

His jaw drops. He groans. “Oh my fucking god.”

You smirk. “See you around, Jeon.”

And just before you slip out the door, he mutters under his breath, half-wrecked:

“…I’m so fucking in trouble.”

part 2

your feedback means the world to me. 🖤

#jungkook fic

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alexiajjk · 2 months ago

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jungkook fic recs list (part 3) ౨ৎ

i’m more than a month late i’m sorry :’( but part 3 is finally here!! i hope you enjoy these stories, all of them are sosososo good and well written! the authors are amazing <3 minors dni!

⭑ part 1, part 2

a- angst f- fluff s- smut

series (completed)

candles & flames by @taegularities

enemies to lovers, royal!au (a, f, s)

He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

an abundance of luck & a sprinkle of fate by @borathae

ceo!jungkook x sexworker!reader, strangers to lovers!au, bdsm, hurt and comfort (a, f, s)

"When two souls, with different reasons for why life has broken them, find together, it needs a whole lot of a luck and a little bit of fate to make them see that maybe healing together isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

the farmhouse by @solecize

childhood friends to lovers/small town au (a, f)

every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts

bisexual boyfriend!yoongi x female!reader x jungkook, snippets of life!au (a, s, a bit of f)

in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

evolution of a lover’s heart by @jeonstudios

college au, fuckboy au, bet au (a, f, s)

the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins

blackout by @jjungxkook

best friends to lovers, roommate au, college au (f, s)

Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

how many by @yoon-kooks

jungkook x tattoo artist!reader, bad boy!au (f, s)

To Jeon Jungkook, you're just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you're also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you've taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

series (ongoing)

something about you by @ahundredtimesover

friends au, vacation au, semi slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; ays jk; PE teacher!jk and researcher!oc (f, s?)

You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

teach me how to love by @kookooluvr

fwb!au, co-workers!au, professor!jungkook, professor!reader, fwb2l, slow burn (a, f, s)

bad decisions (ao3) by @alphabetboyluvr

bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb (a, f, s)

it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

oneshots

petal to the metal by @luxekook

jewelry-maker jungkook x florist reader, idiots to lovers (a, f)

every sunday, the farmers’ market took place in the center of town. vendors from near and far traveled to sell their crafts, their produce, their teas. as the local florist, you figured that running a booth each weekend would boost your business and bring in new clients. at least, those were your reasons in the beginning. but, now? now, you returned just for the handsome jewelry-maker whose booth was next to yours.

the kids aren’t alright by @sketchguk

fwb!jeongguk x pastor’s kid (p.k)!reader, f2l, fwb au (a, f, s)

sneaking around with jeongguk during your christian retreat is complicated when you’re both dedicated to your jobs as co-youth group counselors at your father’s ministry.

paddle with me (two-shot) by @yoongsgguktae

campcounselor!au, e2l, pwp (s)

when your camp leader forces you and jeongguk as partners in a team building activity. with frustrations and anger flaring during your journey down the river, how will all this pent-up emotion get released?

mind in the gutter by @kpopfanfictrash

bowling!au, workplace!au, rom-com (s)

Starting over is never fun. Especially not when you decide to take the phrase fully to heart; new job, new city, new coworkers and new relationships. When you are dragged to a happy hour by your new co-worker, Taehyung, you end up sitting beside a (very) cute, (very) shy IT worker named Jungkook. Several drinks later, he mentions he is in a professional bowling league with his friends and you rather enthusiastically invite yourself along. As time passes and you begin to grow closer, you still find it impossible to read Jungkook. Working in the same company and seeing each other so often, it is only so long before one of you snaps. But who?

sleepover by @personasintro

best friend's brother au (f, s)

Jeongguk is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?

#jungkook fic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fics #bts fic recs #jungkook series #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #alexia’s favs

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alexiajjk · 2 months ago

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aaaahhhhh omg it’s here!!! can’t wait to read this

candles & flames: breeze | jjk (m)

(final) bonus chapter III: breeze

Summary: One day an end might near – but never with him.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: established relationship, royal!au; angst!!, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: mmmkay, they are at a weird place, but love each other so much; insecurities and sadness, jk grovels a lot, jihyo/illegitimate child mention, tears and overthinking, their kids <3, fears, abandonment issues, dad!jk, brief mention of a past death, yearning, an event, manyyy memories and references to the other parts, mention of post-sex memories, orphanage!!, kissing in the rain, jihyo sigh, oc makes him better fr </3 the ending bc that's what this chapter is </3 ➳ wc: 19.6k ➳ a/n: ah yes, the end of an era :') not sure if it was due to this being the definitive finale or just them in general, but i cried a lot, once again. thank you for giving them the amount of love that you did. i hope you like this one <3 ALSO, listen to the playlist, trust me!! ➳ a/n2: this is a bonus chapter for my mini-series candles & flames. reading the rest of the story helps!! find the mpost below <3 and the collaborative playlist here!

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

It’s interesting how a routine turns every night into the same returning experience.

Somewhat soulless, people awake in the morning, treading through their days and hours to fall back into the deep slumber that their bodies so desperately beg for. Back into the peace from the moment that the sky reveals its stars and its moon.

Then, the cycle repeats: cracking up their eyes at the same dawn or noon as the day before, or when the sun sits at its highest point, greeting and smiling, or hidden.

For you, it’s been different.

The nights always shift their personality, and the mornings unravel yet another unfelt, unseen emotion. Love, then longing, then misery, then near paralysis. Numbness.

You don’t recall ever having been much of a victim to fate; you consider yourself more or less lucky, born under just the right constellation. But something about the odd way your mind has been circling around its own axis for a while now doesn’t feel natural.

An indicator of something bad, and you know. You know the phenomenon and know the reason and know the pain it accompanies.

With the nights, the seasons change, too. The more time passes, the warmer it gets. The cold has left. Left the shivers behind; left your head hanging. The dark and grey clouds floating above have vanished for the most part, clearing like a mist to boast the sky’s beauty.

You love the view. You love how rays of sunshine fall into your room like giving it a halo, golden and warm.

But above all, you have changed the most. In every shape and form, you’re somebody entirely new. As if you’re pottery, forged into something solid before smashed flat again. Inconsistently moving up and down, building and crashing, to the better and worse.

Healing isn’t linear, you have realised. You have known; you have seen it on him before, too. Sometimes, you do ponder whether you’re overreacting. Whether you’re supposed to move on the way so many other women do when their husbands come home late.

But no.

Your husband did not come home late.

You were the one who was late.

He never did you wrong; he didn’t intend to hurt you, did he? And thinking about it realistically: not a soul in this world summons even a fragment of the life you breathe into him. Nobody comes into any close proximity of who you are in his eyes and in his heart and in his mind.

But the pain never subsides so easily. What a shame, though. Your sister always appeases you by insisting that you have every right to hurt; that envy can be part of a deeply-feeling empath, and that love elicits these emotions naturally.

That one day, it’ll get better. That for now, you’re allowed to hate people, and allowed to hate him.

But you don’t. You do not hate him. You guess if you did, it would hurt much less.

It would hurt less to stand in the bit of sun shining through the window, letting it prick your skin. It would ache less to sleep next to him every night; to get up and leave at times, wandering the lonely mansion, just so his touch doesn’t stun your body or keep you awake.

Sometimes, you turn to see him awake, too, tossing and turning. Lifting his lids to meet your eyes wordlessly, at times with the smallest, weakest of smiles.

And it would pain less — stepping over the threshold, silken robe draped around you, and into the spacious room downstairs. It’s brighter than the corridor; the latter would’ve been quieter, darker, but certainly more depressing, too. Colder.

You can’t just roam around there. Weird, though — who knows what dragged you back into this room of all, right where you first broke down; where your perspective changed.

It’s often the same; you tend to land here, as if to relive the moment and to convince yourself that it wasn’t as bad as you make it out to be. Or that it was, but that you need to look past it. You promised Jungkook to work on this, to not give up.

Told yourself that distance hurts more than closeness.

And it does. If you were to pack your bags and leave again, you might not be able to come out of the pitch black void again. At least he’s here; where you are.

You and me, in every damn life.

But you’re in a loop. Still right there, in this heart of his, but so forlorn, too. Always the same shit. If she hadn’t come, life would pain less. If you hadn’t been here, life would hurt less. If, if, if…

If you didn’t love him, you could look him in the eyes. If you didn’t love him, you’d care less. But you do. And you’re tortured by the fact that he constantly seeks your gaze. All the time.

Even now.

Right now, as he stands near the dead chimney, staring up to you from whatever document he was reading. You don’t have it in you to meet the dark brown eyes beseeching you to forgive. Sometimes, you do — in a moment of strength, you do.

But not right now.

And you guess you have forgiven him. You converse with him; but the change is palpable, just like the weather is.

From afar, you watch a smile appear on his still-gorgeous face, though a bit more sunken since last fall. His steps are timid when he nears you, and you mimic, walking towards the man whose arms you so desperately seek.

“Good morning,” he greets, and you answer in kind before he adds, “You still look tired. Do you need to sleep more? I don’t mind, I have a bit of time to take care of—”

“Oh, no, no,” you reassure, coming to a stand in front of him. Your fingers twitch to reach out, but your mind refuses; you hate this constant occurrence. “I feel fine, actually. And Hana will get up soon as well.”

“If you are certain.” Jungkook nods; then rolls his eyes again, more in a manner of amusement and sarcasm than annoyance. “That girl runs to her pony so fast these days that she barely ever acknowledges us anymore. So not a lot to do there for us.”

You chuckle a little. “Isn’t that right?” You observe as his head tilts just slightly; a gesture you well associate with affection. “What about you? You are awake early, too.”

A shrug of a shoulder as a response, no word uttered. He blinks once, just slowly, before his hand surrenders to the urge yours suppressed — and moves up, up towards your face. It happens in slow motion, an unnatural pace to it; but a moment later, you feel the touch.

A palm cradling your face. A familiar, somewhat ancient feeling. Known yet so estranged these days.

You close your eyes. Take in the warmth. Let the delusional relief wash over you for a second. And you feel better; much better when he presses in a tiny bit. You forget the pain still lingering.

Every fibre of you yearns to jump into his arms and to remain right there. To inhale his scent, to feel his lips in your hair, to feel the longing in his touch. And he would succumb to each sensation within a moment, a walking white flag, waiting for you to bring him to his knees.

He has been craving every bit of you in every little way, and you know. You know because you have been, too. But whenever his parted lips linger on your burning cheek, perfectly rosy and inviting and as beautiful as ever, or his thumb grazes your trembling chin, you just…

You trap yourself in this cramped cage of your own miserable thoughts; questions arise.

Such as—

Did he touch her like this, too? What did her skin on his feel like? And did he look at her with the same glint dancing in his dark gems? The same hooded gaze, pining and erasing every other thought, so incredibly desperate; like your own eyes offer oxygen for another day?

And—

How are you different?

This is what has been undeniably wounding you the most. The recurring thoughts you can’t turn off. The queries popping up. The fact that you can’t and won’t ask, and that you know what the answer would be, and that you would still burst your head overthinking.

Jungkook knows you’re drifting away day by day.

He’s crept up on you and learned about every single piece of you, has understood you on a level so detailed that even you can’t quite comprehend about yourself. So it’s only natural that he sees it when your mind doesn’t reside with him.

When you’re in pain. And he is in pain, too — perhaps in greater distress, even. But you have told the petty inner voices that this isn’t a competition; that no matter what the bad parts of you demand, he is not supposed to hurt worse than you. None of you is.

But he’s told you. Told you about the torment. The night you came back, as he held you for dear life, glued to you under the thin sheets until you could barely breathe against the fabric covering his chest, you heard him say—

“I cannot figure out what to do… I— I lost myself once. I wouldn’t recognise myself again if I lost you, too.”

You wonder — did he already know what future to expect if you weren’t in it? The time you were gone; did he see a version of himself he didn’t recognise?

You want to ask, but your mentality keeps slipping. Always absent but deep in his own emotions; you hate that you’re so aware of his thoughts. That even right now, he doesn’t expect you to quite look at him or to reciprocate his touch, even though sometimes, reluctantly, you do.

And he doesn’t expect you to smile. He has never known you otherwise — but he doesn’t expect it, consumed by his guilt. He knows you’re entitled to feel the way you feel. Doesn’t expect you to talk to him as you used to either, or to love him the way he’s always known.

He knows you love him… but he misses the moments when you showed him you were in love with him.

Months and years of affection passed, and the weeks since Jihyo entered your life shattered part of the idyllic paradise you had built for yourself. Covered it in clouds.

Yet, he accepts it. To you, it sometimes seems that he is content that you’re here at all. He won’t tell you what happened, how he felt, what he did while you were away, but it seems that his most prevalent fear is you vanishing again.

As long as he sees you standing here, in flesh and blood and not just in his wanting mind, understanding that you are not a figment of his imagination, he is satisfied.

Then again, you don’t think there is an absolute way of not hurting. So you’re not surprised when he brings you back to where you stand, into this moment, and says, “Hey,” he tries to lift your head, “I miss looking at you properly.”

You try. You meet his eyes. They’re filled with sleepless hours and the same sadness as yours.

You keep looking at him, eyebrows slightly moving, breath accelerating, and say, “I do, too.”

“And I miss your voice.”

“I know.”

“And I want you to laugh again. About anything at all.”

ƒrims Well. Maybe you were wrong. Or maybe not — he doesn’t expect you to smile, but… he can still want it, right?

Your body reacts fully automatically, closing in until your forehead gently collides with his. You hear it when he sucks in a sharp breath, hopeful and so hopelessly adoring, before he whispers, “I love you so much.”

Translates to: I need you back.

Translates to: I need you here.

Translates to: Stay.

For a moment, you keep staring into his pupils. A little longer… and then a little longer. It’s hard to look away; as if they harbour a spell and he’s practicing it right this moment. But then you feel another ache in your heart.

Familiar, but never less painful. The same damn one that your mind and body have been shooting through you, keeping you from giving in.

You move back just a little — but he understands. Accepts that you need more distance, just for a while; that it’ll take time. But as if to tell you he’s nowhere near giving up, he grazes your cheek again, warmth in the back of his fingers; hot as the fire that he is.

When he lets go, you feel breathless. Drowning.

“It seems that our daughter is awake,” he comments. You only now notice her tiny voice. Drowsy little girl waddling to her beloved father. Cheek to his shoulder, quiet in the morning, eyes closed again once she’s settled. He adds, “Let’s get breakfast.”

And you follow, but the appetite isn’t too big. Your heart is still beating in your stomach.

Hana has now learned to express herself enough to ask what’s wrong. She understands basic emotions. Sometimes, you let yourself feel in your twins’ presence alone, solely for the reason that they do not pose questions.

But Hana knows.

And you adore her with everything that you are and everything that she has become; but so does she. She sees it when your eyes droop; notices when her father misses a thing she said or two. When he looks at her with deeply rooted affection, but with dead and stinging pain, too.

You think that sometimes, gaping at her round, bubbly face, he remembers as much as you that she’s not all there is. That she and the boys do belong to his blood, but that somewhere out there, another boy gets all excited about visits every now and then.

A child older than any toddler in your massive mansion, residing in a warm home so small and compact in comparison. At times, you think that your husband knows, too: That sweet Minjun is truly all that has ever defined Jungkook.

The art; the smile; the dimples. The politeness and gentleness.

You take a deep breath.

How does anybody ever get over this? You promised Jungkook to fight, and you will, with time you will because you love him, but…

How will you move past this? Will you stop seeing all that happened in everything one day? Grow out of it, find a way to hold onto him and onto who you are, to hurt less?

“Mama… did you hear?”

“Hm?” You glance at your daughter as she wipes her bangs out of her face, eyes too big on it. She’s holding a toy pony towards you. “Hear what, sweetheart?”

You stretch out a hand, carefully holding the toy in your palm. It’s still beautiful, solid snow white porcelain, albeit missing one of his four legs. Hana cried for a whole while when it happened.

“What I just said!” she tries again, her voice reprimanding, disappointed. Then she sighs, pouts, “You didn’t hear.”

It’s the enormous doe eyes that pierce your heart. When he’s sad, he looks the same. Awakens the urge to protect and to love and to keep him far from even a scratch. You sigh, too; keep yourself together.

“I apologise, baby,” you shift closer to her; she’s a bit older now, more forgiving. Still feisty, but very forgiving. “Mama is just tired. But I’m here, yes? Tell me again, please?”

Whenever Hana starts a thought, she needs to finish it. Your absent mind can’t keep her from it; so she soon turns to you, her voice much louder than yours. “I was saying,” she starts, easy to persuade, “I want to see Tee.”

You laugh.

Tee.

A self-made abbreviation for the term auntie. Somehow, it was too odd of a word for her to pronounce, so she settled on this one syllable to define your sister. She has accepted it; grown to love it, in fact. You guess her name is now simply Tee because Jeon Suhana says so.

“How convenient.” Your laugh dies; replaced by a little jump as his posed, soft voice suddenly joins the room, echoing through it. You give him a small smile. “Right?”

Jungkook walks in with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, two buttons of his dark shirt open. His chest peeks golden from underneath, with light spots of red, as if he rubbed the skin over his heart, soothing it.

The usually lifted collars are falling lazily to the sides; the baggy, loose sleeves rolled just below his elbows.

He looks as breathtaking as he did when you met him all those years ago; when you fell for the soul he revealed. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t fade, in any way at all. He still emanates the same confidence, even in times of desperation. Radiates pure attraction.

You guess people would be fooled by this, fall for the untamed, silky, dark hair if they didn’t know him well.

But you do — and you see the change in hue under his eyes. How the fragile, thin skin is a tad bit darker, and how he usually takes care of his mane so well. The way his strands stick out isn’t his usual appearance. Your husband used to be more put together.

But he’s smiling. For your sake and for hers, perhaps even for his own.

Hana is beaming back at him, though a bit timid in face of the change she’s surely seen in him.

But she couldn’t focus on more than the grand city right now, you know. Somehow, you reckon he planted this thought into her mind. He’s been mentioning an upcoming ball this spring, not too many days from now.

If you went, it’d be an excuse to visit your families again. For him to see his mother, and for you to spend an afternoon with your sister. He’s spoken about this once or twice, told you to think about it.

That—

I, however, understand if it is uncomfortable. If it hurts.

Of course it does. Going back to the one place where he handed you his bleeding, beating heart, yours for taking. But the place where he almost became hers, to. The place you met pain and then embraced love.

You were going to give him an answer soon, and you haven’t, and you know how goddamn unfair it is to him, but…

Your heart has been so delicate, and your tongue too mute to truly verbalise a proper response. Yes or no is all it takes, but you can’t stop pondering about the pros and cons.

“Daddy…” Hana calls, palms on the ground, butt up to lift herself upright. “Daddy, what?”

Ever-the-curious daughter. She probably got this from you. Too many unknown flowers that you picked together.

He lifts his trousers to his ankles and then crouches down to her, on the carpet that the two of you have made yourselves comfortable on. Hana drops back onto it. “We could see Tee, if we can make time, baby.”

If your mother agrees.

“Really?!”

Her legs are folded, her upper body leaning forwards, as if she can’t contain the joy in her little heart. She’s delighted, fists on the carpet, and for a moment, it lifts your spirits.

His eyes shift to yours carefully as Hana does a little victory dance, and you feel a prick in your chest. Is it okay to go back? You want to. You don’t want to. Will your heart withhold the pain and take the weight the trip might bring? Or perhaps the opposite…

“Wait,” Hana interrupts, suddenly solemn, “who will play with Leehi if I go?”

Leehi, her favourite nanny, young and beautiful and gentle. You chuckle, and Jungkook follows before he hums for a moment, responding, “Well, she will certainly miss you. Perhaps you should go and tell her that you might go away for a bit?”

Hana gets to her feet again, still your teeny tiny baby as she lifts a finger and declares with raised eyebrows, “I will tell her to not miss me.”

“You do that, love. Leehi is in your room, making your bed.”

Your daughter bolts away with such determination that you can’t help but laugh; her two braids move back and forth.

And once she’s out of sight, Jungkook plumps down on the carpet, knees pulled in and arms around them. He tilts his head with a tender smile, chest rising before he asks, “Did you have time to think about it? Going home?”

You remember a time not too long ago when you’d sit here like this, too; despite the couch in the back, you’d play with the twins and Hana right here, on this warm carpet, and Jungkook would join after work. You’d place your head on his shoulder and whisper-converse with him.

Sometimes, you’d fall asleep and wake up in his arms, in your bed, with the children secured in theirs. You never needed proof for how gentle Jungkook handles you — but if he could carry you into your room like a feather without disturbing a moment of your sleep, you were at utter peace, right?

He did that to you. He still does; his presence calms you, though it stirs your heart, too.

You want to put your head on his chest again, slumber there. Instead, you nod and say, “I did, yes.”

“And?”

“Hana wants to go.”

His eyes move to the side, down to the floor, then back to you as he tries again, “And what about you?”

You shrug a little. “Can I really refuse my daughter’s wish?”

He moves closer; a very small distance, but noticeable to you. His eyes are intense as he emphasises, “What’s your wish, love?”

Yours? You have a lot of wishes.

Whispered upon falling stars and eyelashes. You can’t utter most of them now, though, can you? But maybe you should. Maybe, rather than the universe, it could be him granting you what you desire.

He can read your thoughts anyway. Because he encourages, “You can share your mind with me. I’m your husband, darling.”

You nod; let something in you break and break until your fingers move, up to one of his knees. He immediately puts a palm onto your digits, holds onto you as you say, “You are.”

“Only yours.”

You inhale deeply. The tears are less these days, but never truly gone. You blink before they can reemerge, quickly adding, “I will go if you want to go. Your wish is my wish.”

“It is?”

“Of course. I am yours, too.”

A fresh colour dusts his cheeks, as if he’s falling in love anew. But his gaze betrays him; still sad when he wonders, “Then… Can I say something very kitschy?”

You feel yourself melt just a little. A hint of a smile graces your face. “Always.”

“My wish is… that I want you back.” He drops his head the moment your heart sinks, too. Even from here, you see the damp waterline. “I want you to be mine the way you were. I wish to give you the same joy I used to. I just…” His voice shakes. “I need my girl back so badly.”

And then, another whisper, stuck in a loop, “I miss you.”

You nod again, tell him, “I know.” Because if you said anything more, you’d cry. You know you would.

He looks up at you, the rims of his eyes red, trapping the tears in. He sniffles; shuts his lids, as if preparing for something. And then asks—

“Do you still love me?”

Do you?

Does he truly need to ask?

His presence still calms you, though it stirs your heart, too.

You love him irreversibly. You love him with an intensity that has nestled into your heart and is here to stay. Jungkook will never leave its crevices, no matter what. You just wish…

You wish you could show these sentiments to him better. Easier.

You’re the only one in your way now.

Mustering strength, you admit, “If I had stopped— I might’ve been long gone.”

He nods right away — it seems to be enough for him. Encourages him. Like he needed the confirmation; like, even for a moment, he’s glad that your life and soul and being are still merged with his. You haven’t strayed as far as he always fears and it relieves him.

Relieves you, too.

He licks his lips, clearing his throat, and says, “If you don’t want to go… we don’t have to, yes? I am sorry for putting pressure on you.”

“No,” you hold onto his fingers, just weakly, “no, we can go. I want to and… It might be a good alternative to the usual routine.”

Another bop of his head before he sees the pony in your other hand, reaching for it. You give it to him, and he inspects it. Comments, “Oh… It broke.”

“Mmh… damaged but still here. Hana makes sure of it.”

Jungkook looks at you. You understand your words; understand the hope behind them. And it makes him smile.

The same smile that you remember from before; the one you saw in the orphanage, in the carriages, in the rain. Months ago when you pestered him in his office until he came to bed with you.

You don’t know if he hears it when you add a quiet mumble under your breath; you guess he registers at least pieces of it as he finds your eyes soon again, so tender and vulnerable and speechless.

Pained and comforted at once as you whisper, “I miss you, too.”

This is far from your first time entering a hall that exceeds all expectations you have of pre-summer events and boasting the riches.

Jungkook and you have hosted parties before and attended even more. The number accumulated over the years; to a sum that made you immune with time. To the lusters and the dances; to the lights and the food.

Never to his touch, but much to the noise and the giggle. Most of the conversations are superficial, and when they’re not, you’re barely part of them. In your town, people respect you, but they have their own little culture that you’re not always too well versed with, up there in your mansion.

And here in this town, you stopped being a true, proper member of the peerage long ago. Even when you’re welcomed with wide arms and open hearts. People encourage you and admire you, but your life has long evolved.

These people don’t know half of it. To them, you’re the co-ruler of a beautiful town, far from here and deep in your own head. Living your days with gorgeous children and a wildly desired husband.

But you have perfected your act. Nobody suspects a thing, and you don’t want them to. So you cling to Jungkook’s arm, a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach when you enter the brightly lit hall and take in what you know.

The place is familiar; many years ago, you flipped to a new page right here, following the same steps. You probably walked the same line to the middle of the room, too, and then up to a dark hallway, meeting Jungkook in a corner before you turned your lives around.

For a while, this spot was connected to memories you would’ve rather forgotten. Tears and pain and betrayal and lies and eventually, the truth. But aches have dimmed over time, despite the fact that neither of you will truly ever forget.

You replaced these miseries. You live through your own and resolve them with a priority unmatched to all you ever experienced.

Yet, this very moment feels different somehow.

It has been years since you danced here together. Months since you danced properly at all.

Back then, there was envy in his touch, you so vividly recall. Affection in his words, concern in his thick eyebrows, fear in his dark brown pupils. Gems, is what they always were, and you would always fall for them; when you’d sneak up to empty rooms or hurt in vacant hallways.

When he was still younger than he is now, and you were, too; when you had so many other issues to forget about, the world seemed much bigger. Like there was hope somewhere out of these walls; and there was.

You were children so in love, inevitably possessed by a powerful force that never quite left you after that. The heartbeat, wild and thumping, never calmed.

All you used to be and all you remained is in your chest and in your mind. On your lips and in your words. No wonder everybody behaves so normally. Who could think otherwise than to be absolutely certain that your days are still the same as they always were?

Jungkook pulls up his arm gently, glove-clad hand lifting up to offer to you. He isn’t interested in conversing with others today. He allows a little greeting or a smile, but he doesn’t indulge in more or divulges his innermost emotions.

And they don’t bother. He isn’t trying, so they don’t either just yet; being a royal plants timidness in other people.

No, what he is focused on is your weak self next to him, knees as wobbly as many years ago. The palm shown to you is beseeching you to come with him, and to do him the honour of being his for another night.

You didn’t ever stop being his, but you don’t need to reveal this to him. Even when he nods a little, moving his hand up just a little to urge yours into it, you know he knows.

But you still accept with soft fingertips lightly kissing upon his warm hand, debunking all possible thoughts of doubts and erasing them out of his mind. And he seems relieved when you gulp down the stress, following your silent husband across the room.

You remain as wordless as you watch familiar and stranger faces float by. You nod when they do, pressing their digits when they reach for yours, a soft and quiet greeting with a smile or, on the other hand, a delighted, “Hello!”

You find your voice when you respond, find it when Jungkook does, reciprocating the others’ eventual, brave curiosity and joy upon seeing the two of you. Hearing him helps you bring your vocal cords back into swing.

And you feel as though you haven’t spoken for ages when you finally tell Jungkook, “You know…” He turns a little, not quite in the middle of the room just yet. “You used to be worried about me rejecting you.”

You aren’t sure why you’re saying this at all. Perhaps because he isn’t fearful of distance anymore — or at least, not the one he used to be afraid of. This is different. Back then, he was scared he’d lose a presence in his life that he hadn’t been able to call his own just yet.

Today, he knows exactly what he’d be letting go.

Maybe he isn’t overthinking it as much as you, though.

Because as you look at him, head a little tilted and carrying a big, dreamy mind, you lose yourself in his twinkle a bit. The smirk is crooked and saccharine, the same old as when the two of you met.

There aren’t that many couples on the dancefloor yet when you reach it, but it seems that you two being one of the few to make the start helps. Inspires others; pre-wedding season is always an interesting event to witness. People are just waiting for an opportunity.

And when his hand reaches the small of your back, body close in front of you, you catch yourself taking in a breath too deep. You’re enthralled when he once again reminds you of the sugary undertone in his voice, so cautious when he says, “You know, I do not think I was ever worried.”

You lift an eyebrow. “You weren’t?”

“Well, worried would be the wrong word. I would rather argue—” He shrugs a shoulder, eyes drifting to the side, to the floor, and then back up to you as he scours his thoughts for a proper term. “You teased me, and I indulged in it.’”

You laugh softly, blinking slowly. Encouraged by the sound of it, he laces his fingers with yours, and you let him. Let him burn your skin through the gloves. Amused, you whisper, “I teased you?”

“You always did, did you not?”

You’re not too certain about this. If he is referring to your little sarcastic taunts, playfully threatening to keep his dance cards empty, he might be right. But you remember more than just this—

“You were the one to make short carriage rides adventurous,” you playfully accuse.

Another chuckle, and you’re nearly sold. As he twirls you a bit, leading you across the shiny floor, you find enough time for yourself to reminisce for a moment. Wherever you went, whenever the world called you to some nearby thing to attend to, his lips would find you.

Innocent or not.

Your clavicles, your neck, the spot behind your ears.

Or — your knuckles, your shoulder, your wrist.

People might have wondered how your love could bud this fast when only weeks had passed back then, but you knew and saw and felt it all. You never questioned any of it.

Jungkook says, “Maybe I should again.”

Hm…

“Maybe you should.”

Weren’t you just as breathless and faint back then, too? You think so. And you think he fared no better, did he?

He’d sigh, too, the moment you arrived at your destination, whispering promises and plans to you through similar symphonies as you are hearing right now. But even with the familiarity of the strings, reality has changed now.

Because as you rock, you don’t hear the cheerful music playing. The strings are dim in your ears and the dancing a reflex. Rather, for you, there is a piano in the background, keys singing the tune of what you were.

The more you talk and the more you listen, the more you see. Behind your eyes, fabricated by your mind, you register all the fleeting pictures of a distant yet vivid yesterday. And some of it still aches, but…

You can’t stop talking, and you can’t stop listening, either.

The nostalgia, paired with the movements dragging your feet across the floor and into his arms, keep catapulting you back to a place you know and one you crave to return to so deeply. But at the same time, you can’t be that young again.

You will always be in love, but you won’t feel the same sickening beginning again. Truths are harsh.

But are they always as thorough as you valued them to be?

Because if you can’t be who you were, why does your heart still hammer like this? If you’re so hurt, why do you still feel transported to another lifetime, like you never really left? As if you’re trudging and wading and crawling through it again to relive it all?

Maybe because you are. Maybe you never truly left indeed.

A voice interrupts your thoughts, the lights coming into focus again. Jungkook’s breath is close to your cheek as he hushes the words, wondering, “What are you thinking about?”

Yes, what are you thinking about?

You’re thinking about a plethora of things; none of which you can arrange into rational, lucid thoughts. Words don’t come easy to you these days, so you rely on what you feel. Rely on your senses.

On how he looks at you. How he touches you. How he speaks to you. And on how he moves.

You swallow again, hoping for your voice to overshadow the violins playing and the piano’s tunes taking form in your head. You tell him, “I am thinking about how gracefully you still dance.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “can that ever change?”

Your left shoulder lifts a little. “We don’t dance as much as we used to. But I suppose not.”

“Or perhaps it can change and I just find it easier with you.”

Your eyes expand a bit, but you don’t know if he sees it.

Easier with you.

With you, of all the people he has known over the decades. A life filled with touches so godless that you can barely wrap your head around still being the only one.

And you try to blend them out so badly. The thoughts of his body swaying as easily with somebody else’s, or hiding in another nook, far from creeping eyes. Feeling another heat on a chilly night.

You are truly trying to focus.

To focus on the heartbeat against your back when he releases you and turns you in his grip. For a moment, he holds you there, against his vest, the buttons cold on your bare arm. Your skin reacts, goosebumps scattered all over, helped by the proximity his lips come into.

They graze your ears, as if he’s doing this to you on purpose; as if he’s attempting to draw out the message your soul delivers. Responding with your name, spelled out by the pumping of his heart. He’s trying to make you receive it.

Every damn second, he has been wanting you to focus on him, and you have been. More so now than ever. On this and this only.

But it’s never easy. It hasn’t been.

You turn back in his arms. Even the piano fades a little now; you barely hear any of it anymore, let him lead you, relying on the pure trust you still put in him. It burns as much as all you see in those eyes of his.

Two tiny flames, red and orange, flickering blue sometimes. Behind them, a dark and sweet and gorgeous void; it still leads to his heart.

You have never seen this much love in anyone’s glance. Except for when he looks at your children, you guess. But this is different. The two of you are always, always different.

Jungkook loves you. Jungkook loves you with all he has and all he ever had and all he’ll be able to give. Jungkook intends to love you to your last exhale, and will love you into the next life; and Jungkook will wait for your soul in order to merge back with it someday, in the great unknown.

No matter who of you leaves this cruel world first — you have never caught him looking at someone like this. Like he will be sitting on his cloud impatiently on the other side, holding onto the fate bestowed upon you.

You know this much. You know the nature of the two of you because you are part of this constellation. So it should hurt less. Eternity should relieve you.

And he understands, too, that you’ll always be here, patient as he watches you come closer step by step, back to him. No matter in which universe and which time; he’ll be there, in an uncertain future and when humanity has changed into something far bigger.

But…

Right now, right where you are…

The same lights, the same light steps. The same love and the same scent announcing the change in season. This place and the memories attached to it; the fragility of your mind and the still fresh wounds to your heart.

They extend in size much too fast, much too ruthlessly.

You unlace your fingers when the sound ebbs down, just in a moment all too fitting to not raise much suspicion. The bodies around you are bowing, chattering, smiling. They don’t notice you.

So you step back by mere inches, parting from him with a frail smile. You offer a slight bow, as well, watching him imitate it with muscles just as feeble. You bring a hand to your face. Touch your cheek first, still feel the heat brushing your skin.

Then, you fan air against it, feigning the warmth that a near-summery event such as this often brings. They won’t know. You breathe out, as if overwhelmed by the heat, and then begin to walk away. But he realises your intentions immediately.

For a second, you see his mouth forming your name. Then, his voice changes, as if you’re the only one who can hear it through the crowd, adding a tiny, “Sweetheart—”

So aware of it all.

But you’re already stepping away because you can’t stop now. Because your feet won’t halt, their heels pressing into the floor as if they’re moving by themselves, carrying you away.

And because the wind outside helps, even if just a tad; even if only until his shoes clack against the floor, their sound all too known to you. He catches up to you right away; not that you expected otherwise. Jeon Jungkook would not stand there and let you go.

Not again.

You hear your name again, wondering about the next syllable to utter. Your mind is obscured, and you don’t want to say the wrong thing, no matter how obviously you just ran away. So you sniffle a bit and then suck in some air, as if to blame the now colder night.

It’s a lie. It’s still pleasant; you aren’t cold despite the still-present gooseflesh. Maybe that’s why you find it so hopeless to contain your silent cries or to wipe away that one stray tear as you respond, “Yes.”

And the moment allows some time again. Time to think back to more that you never experienced, that you’d rather still not be a part of.

Because you still can’t stop comparing. All you ever see is her when he never does. Whenever you think about how much he loves you now and loved you then, you remember that he was in the same halls with her, staring from a far end, hoping for something she could never grant.

That he stood at the same spots in this damned world as the two of you did many years ago — but without them ever further advancing. Because none of them could, not because they wouldn’t. Because they were veiled, forbidden.

You start to pour your heart out the moment you turn to him, at the end of the porch, watching his mouth open to speak. You aren’t prepared and haven’t written a mental speech, so you’ll need to improvise.

Which means, you need to shield yourself as you speak, expecting how pain-struck he looks when you begin, “My mind keeps saying…”

It’s already a miserable start; but Jungkook still urges, “It says what?”

“That,” you clear your throat, so absolutely fazed and dazed when his thumb reaches out, catching the tear only followed by many others, “that it could have been her. That she is still there and—”

You pause to breathe, looking past his shoulder. Nobody else is outside, and you see the crowd through the door. A pair of eyes or two peeks out, but you’re clearly not interesting enough right now. So they diverge their gaze again.

You don’t care about whether somebody sees. You only care about them possibly thinking that he hurt you. That the grand, famous son of the former, beloved duke has done something to break a heart.

You don’t want them to.

So you drop your head, keeping your voice in check as you try to add, “I am afraid that you might start regretting that it was not her.”

Jungkook silences. The lips so close to your ears before are locked now; not because he thinks you’re right or because he’s ever entertained the option of a reality where she replaced your role in his life.

But because he’s told you the truth so many times. Over and over; circling round and round. It won’t carve itself into your mind as it has onto his tongue, words repeated like crazy.

He pauses a little longer; much until you glance up. And despite each of his failed attempts at bringing you back to where you used to be, he refuses defeat and tries again—

“And does this not tell you otherwise? Does it not mean anything? This…”

The thumb wanders from your cheek to your jaw. “That it ended up being you and not her.”

You tilt your head again; it’s different now than from a couple minutes ago. Maybe you truly are being a tease. Giving him hope one second, crying the next. Asking things like, “What does it mean?”

You know. Of course you do. But you’re being selfish for the first time, waiting until he tells you, “That it was supposed to be you. Always, and even now. I can’t tell you how all the days without you pass, but I just…”

A shake of his head, a drop of his hand. His head falls like yours did, and he closes his eyes, bringing two fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch it a little. You wait. His lips, full and pink, form a circle, breathing out, and then he says,

“I am running out of words.”

Maybe he doesn’t need to add anymore. The former ones still echo. All of them always echo.

The eyes looking at you and the whispers he utters. The stare that wants to bring you the stars. They want to freeze the moment, the wind, the clouds in place — it all echoes his heart.

“Jungkook…”

It’s all your strength allows.

And what else can you say at all?

You can only listen as he pleads again, “Please stay.”

What else can you do? You see him everywhere anyway, hear him all the time. The love never vanishes either way, no matter what the world does to crush you. And you don’t want it to.

You want to remember it.

Even if any of this came to crumble to pieces and left you with merely half of what you’re able to call yours. Even if one day, you were deserted and alone and started forgetting his voice or the way his hands moved or the warmth of his touch, you’ll remember this much.

The intensity of the burning in your stomach as it spreads, a wildfire that consumes. But if you’re smart enough, you’ll listen. You’ll stay. You’ll add to the memories instead of erasing them.

Build a world that’s both old and new to you and leave whatever you survived throughout these months in another universe, one that you didn’t ever live in but solely visited.

You were wrong. His name isn’t all that your strength allows. There’s more left in your wobbly, fragile body. A rising of your chest; a lift of your head, blinking of your eyes; and a step or two, enough to close the distance.

He’s pleading on repeat, the same little request that has accompanied you the past months. Still whispering a little, “Stay,” as he watches you close in, lodged in place because this time, it’s your feet dragging you to him instead of away from him.

You feel it in every fibre when your body collides with his. Head to chest and arms wound around him as if clasping some support to keep you afloat. Your legs, no matter how aflame your heart, are weak somehow; you might falter.

But Jungkook helps you fare better. Keeps you in place when his hand finds the small of your back, slowly, unsurely. Cautious as it drifts up your spine, leaving something in its wake that you missed so fiercely.

You need to stay like this. Just for a while. Perhaps tonight, if you don’t, you might die. With a feeling eating you up, blazing as it could get, and tears rolling down that you’re certain could be acid.

They have been for a bit; everything has been for a bit.

But right now, somehow, somewhat, they’re still as different as you prayed for them to be for so long.

That night, you don’t stay in his humongous mansion that is resplendent in this picturesque town of yours. In truth, Jungkook doesn’t spend much of his nights over there when you visit the place you once knew.

His mother and brother mind less, but to him, the bright walls are tinged with a darkness only he sees, perceptible under the touch of his palms and in the endless, empty hallways.

Instead, you spend an hour of the night staring at the door you grew up gazing at, big and comforting and closed, a portal to your younger years and turbulent moments. Just a minute walk from that door and down the stairs, there is an entrance that Jungkook once stood in front of, begging, stepping over the threshold to touch you just once.

To tell you what you needed to know, without his tongue ever working. And you remember bringing him back here one day then, with a ring on your finger and an arm slung around his. Listening as he told you, looking around, “So cosy.”

“Pretty?”

“Beautiful. And the scent helps.”

You smiled. You had given the kitchen staff an entire list of Jungkook’s favourite dishes. He is an omnivore; he will eat almost anything presented to him, never too picky. Before you were married, he had enjoyed every bite and every drop given to him.

But he was here as your husband for the first time, and you wanted to pamper him as much as he spoiled you daily.

He looked sweet as he sniffed, nose crinkled, dark, dark eyes so enthusiastic and happy. That moment had long killed all the pain you’d felt burning in your blood a year prior, and you knew he’d keep your veins clean and your heart pumping.

And today… years and years after.

It felt different as he came in. This is still his home, too. Your mother loves him. Your father loves him. Your sister, while empathic, no matter what past she shares with him, adores him as her brother-in-law, too.

And despite all the trails of dryness on your face, where the tears flowed, you love him, too.

His calm breathing behind you offers a source of relief. His warmth is palpable under the blanket, the mattress filled. When you came here with Hana last time, you truly noticed how big your bed was and how you’re not used to the space, how you don’t even want it anymore.

And when Jungkook moves, sighing, evidently turning, you close your eyes. If he notices, he will ask why you’re awake, and if you tell him why, you will cry, and you can’t cry again.

Too late, though.

He knows; but he doesn’t ask.

What he does do is touch your waist just a little. The fingertips send a shiver up your sides. Gentle goosebumps and a fiery pain, well-known but so far away that it catapults you back to what you were.

Your throat is clogged when he, well aware of how awake you are, analyses the pattern of your breathing so easily that you should’ve known you needn’t act. He whispers, “May I…”

You don’t answer. Not because you don’t want to, but because you can’t. You want to turn around and cuddle into him, so close to holding the side of his neck and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

But before your body can react, he does, an arm slinging around you when you put a hand over his. He pulls you close to him, a trembling lower lip sinking to your shoulder, and your inhales break.

Quickly, you close your eyes, thinking of the wind in your hair a couple hours ago. It was balm to your heart, the way his hug was; but the sobs echoing in front of the porch added a couple stones to your heart, forcing it heavier.

All these months, you have suppressed your tears in front of him, but by now, there is no need to hide and to pretend. Jungkook never has. Even now, he doesn’t veil a thing — you know when you realise he’s crying, too, shakily breathing in against your shoulder.

Between the silent weeping, you hear his voice whimper. You’re carried away when he holds you closer, still grovelling, delivering a now-rare touch to your clavicles and your jaw, as if to feel your heart and your presence.

And then, he mutters, “I love you. I am so sorry. I love you so, so much.”

The words are quiet, drowned as he presses his lips deeper into your shoulder, into your neck. His tears fall onto your skin, and you shut your eyes tight, letting out the same liquid, mixed with a longing, quiet moan. You don’t need to tell him that you feel the same.

You know he feels it. Feels it in the way you grip his hand. In how your head turns to his, and his fingers pinch your chin, and in the way you look at him. How you let him kiss your nose. Your lips.

In how you finally do put a warm palm to his neck, grazing the hair in the nape of it, mouth close to his as you shut your eyes before he does.

You remain and cry and hope and love until he falls asleep, and you follow.

You basked in the breeze.

It was scented and gentle, like the back of loving fingers caressing your cheeks. The sky was nearly cloudless; spring was slowly setting in. When you had walked the distance to this very spot, the wind howling in your ears had soothed you somehow.

Softly and sweetly; a desired change, along with the welcoming sun rays kissing your face. Warmth and love, a dress swaying. There was something about this world you breathed in that resembled a girl’s fairytale dreams.

So you didn’t mind the bugs or how ticklish the ankle-high grass made you or how hot it was getting by the hour today.

You wanted to be here. You wanted to be surrounded by the old trees, gazing at the paths between them leading to where you stood, amidst the butterflies and flowers and underneath the azure sky.

You were alone.

Saturdays were busy for the mansion and the village; people wandered about and tended to their businesses. Sometimes, they’d indulge in low-labour days and wander to this place. Some of those who could afford horses, would ride here with their kids, take a walk to breathe in the season and the worldly wonders the edge of your town offers.

But not today; and you were thankful.

You kicked the earth underneath your feet, the low boots not high enough or protective of your skin beneath the dress. You had fled from the mansion and the conversations going on. Jungkook was in the parlour and the children were playing with the nanny.

You guess this was the place to be. So you tucked your hair behind your ear, looking around the empty space, and then took a seat despite the wildness of the field. Plucked the grass.

Jihyo was probably still sitting in front of him, legs not nervously pressed together as she used to do when she visited. She crosses them now, her back a little more bent than usual, comfortable with her son and the man she once knew.

When you left, they were still exchanging pleasantries, but you knew it wasn’t long before they’d get to the business he’d promised her. Both of them pleaded with you to stay. To listen in and make decisions with him.

He held your hand until you retracted it, fingers left in his hold, and then, you pulled back entirely.

You were terrible at being there. And you were terrible at being away, too. But the wind engulfed you with some solace at least, and this was only half as worse as the stifling air in that one room. Invisible thumbs pressing into your neck.

But this town, this village — they weren’t big. And your staff, and Jungkook, and the people knew you.

So you shouldn’t have been too surprised when she found you here, too. When you heard her voice close and recognised it immediately, swearing that the field was empty just a moment ago.

She was slow, careful. She knew you by now, at least a little; but she still always approached you as if she was waiting for an outburst, well aware that you weren’t going to snap again. But she saw a deep fault in herself, expected to be thrown out at some point.

But you wouldn’t; you never did. If you wanted to, you wouldn’t have found this very hidden spot that she’d located so easily.

Hands folded in front of her body, she smiled when you looked back at her, alarmed by the steps in the grass. You managed a little smile, just as savvy of the fact that she was harmless as she was. You didn’t hate Jihyo; but you were still wounded, insecure.

Squinting into the high sun, eyes hidden behind some of her strands swaying in the wind, she nodded towards you, standing over you before she said, “We are done.”

You reciprocated her nod, telling her, “That’s good.”

“He is giving Minjun a bit of his time, so I left. I have been wanting to find you for so long, but you always disappear.”

Of course she’d noticed. Jihyo, despite her faults and stupid mistakes in the past, wasn’t dumb in any way. She was a woman, like you, deeply tenderhearted and understanding of what swirled through your mind in her presence.

She knew that if she was you, she’d be hurting the same.

Yet, you told her, “I apologise.”

“There is no need.” Small pause, and then, “May I?”

She pointed to the spot next to you, asking to take a seat in the middle of a field that you didn’t own. Not like this; she didn’t need to ask. But you still nodded, shifting a little to the right, even though you didn’t need to.

Putting both hands under her thighs, she tucked the dress under her bottom and sat down, legs folded and fingers immediately grabbing some grass to toy with. She asked, “How are you?”

You puffed out a tiny breath. What were you supposed to answer? The shrug of your shoulder accompanying your seeming pondering was redundant, because you knew the answer very well. What good did it do to put on an act?

You responded, “It might take a while to feel like myself again.”

It was enough as an answer. She nodded once again, one eye still pinched shut as the noon sun stung in it. “It does take a while. Life would hurt less if it didn’t.”

“My mother says hardships build character.”

“Yes?” she wondered, letting out a little chuckle. Her digits wandered from the grass to her dress, picking at a stray thread. “I don’t know. I think it wouldn’t be too bad to evade these hardships. Does the character really need to be built?”

You sighed. “Right? I do not reckon I need to evolve as a person if I can just be happy.”

“Right,” she repeated.

She silenced again for a moment, the quietude broken by the whistle of the breeze. You breathed in, thankful for the oxygen so different from your hometown. You were thankful for a plethora of things around here and this was one of the aspects topping the list so easily.

Jihyo tongued her cheek and you watched for a second. When she noticed you staring, she smiled again, adding, “I appreciate your honesty. You do not need to talk to me at all, but you still do. Thank you.”

“Well,” you began, offering a tender smile, “it kills me to not be honest.”

Which was true, but not quite.

It wasn’t that you had been lying to Jungkook; you were just constantly burying your actual thoughts. What you felt and what you thought and what you needed. You felt odd about the moments you shared with him, and often waited for the right situations to be vulnerable.

It was killing you to not verbalise your mind, but you still powered through.

“I can see it,” she still admitted, “I see it even in your face.”

You were sure she could. Your face often felt contorted. Even if you wanted to, you were certain you couldn’t quite hide the emotions your brain elicited; it would always show in the eyes first. Windows to the soul and whatnot.

Did his eyes reveal the same to her? Did she see any of what she had so many years ago?

When he found out about her morals, when he felt the pang of pain in his chest back then, did he look similar to her? Or did she see a difference now?

Your stomach churned at the thought of this.

Words at the tip of your tongue, you chose to let them tumble, and asked in a voice so fragile, “How was he back then? Jungkook.”

Jihyo thought about it for a minute. Looked at you. Then gazed back down; without meeting your eye now, she said, “…Hurt.”

“Hmm…” you voiced, uncontrolled with your following words, seeking answers. “Then, he must not look different now. You know him like this, do you not?”

Another second to evaluate your question.

Your heart beat in your throat, and you let your head fall, understanding her answer until she spoke, and you realised that you actually didn’t, “I am not sure. For one, I did not know how to heal him. Back then, it was not just me. His emotions had to do with something much bigger than what we had.”

You only stared.

Your eyes begged for her to elaborate, and she did.

“He was hurt, but for another reason. Back then I was the distraction from his problems and he fell back into them once he stepped out of my life. But…” She hesitated, fumbling for words. “But you are the main reason for his heartache.”

Her words hurt deeply and violently. They had long been sitting in a space so concealed, but they floated to the surface now. As she voiced them, there was no way to deny them anymore; even if you weren’t at fault, and even if you understood your pain, validated it every day…

It was no lie that he was hurt because of you, too.

“Yes…” you confessed, your voice tiny and pained.

Maybe Jihyo understood what she had just uttered and how you’d taken it, because she shook her head in the next moment. Clarified, “Do not misunderstand, I don’t mean this in a bad way. Just that—”

She was struggling; was attempting to not be the source of your ache again. She inhaled deeply, and then tried again, “There is a big difference between me and you and his pain between us. With you, it’s so much more profound. If he can hurt because of you, and only hurt because he had lost a distraction all those years ago… doesn’t it reveal his true feelings?”

You didn’t answer. You needed to digest her words; eyes drifted to the ground, and you repeated them in your mind. She leaned into you, touched your elbow ever-so-gently. “Does it not?”

You tucked your hair loosely behind your ears. Partly, because it kept covering your eyes; partly, because you felt shy all of a sudden. Not the way you used to. Rather in a familiar in-love-way, yearning for somebody who was waiting for you just the same.

Somebody adored you for who you were, thankful for every damn breath you drew. There were moments of realisations like this; when you rethought your life and once again understood who it truly was who fell for you.

You were lucky, you thought, to be the one to be worthy enough to be loved by him.

“You’re right,” you soon agreed, “of course… of course you are.”

Jihyo didn’t answer right away. Your conversation was shaped by certain awkwardness, but it was drenched in support, too. You didn’t think you’d find yourself here, but realistically, you also knew that Jihyo wasn’t quite a bad person.

She had hurt, hadn’t she? Every woman deserves a love she can be proud of; Jihyo had never experienced it until now. Not when she hid with Jungkook in vacant rooms. Never meaning to hurt anybody when she broke into your life.

You wished you could despise her for her flaws, but you couldn’t.

Not when she looked at you like this. Those gorgeous, dark eyes so sweet, eyebrows knitted together just a little. Arched, pretty lips in a small smile, but the distress so obvious underneath her expression.

She said, “I don’t want to come in between you. I never wanted to, it’s just that…” She gulped. You already knew what she’d say and you nodded, but she explained anyway, “I need to ensure his safety. I wish there was another way.”

Perhaps there was. But no easy one. And maybe she was right anyway. If not the father, who else?

“I wish there was,” she repeated, “but as soon as I have figured it all out… I will be gone.”

The shake of your head came quicker than you would’ve assumed or expected. You surprised yourself when you defended, “But Jungkook deserves a relationship with him, too. I don’t want to take it away.” You gazed down again. “He wasn’t part of his life until now, but… can you or me or he really abandon that? Minjun is still his… his blood.”

You choked out the last words, suppressing the urge to hold onto your chest, to grip your heart and protect it, so it didn’t bleed through your digits. What could you do, really? You could’ve agreed, told her to pack her things once things were resolved.

You wished you were selfish like this; you knew Jungkook would’ve been for you if you just told him. But you couldn’t. It wasn’t fair towards anyone.

“Then…”

Jihyo’s gaze was intense, trying to communicate verbally. Maybe she knew it was hard to find the right words at the right times; she wasn’t bad at it, but it didn’t come to her naturally either, like the way it did for Jungkook so often. And he had said many times that it did for you, too.

“Then you might need to find a way to cope,” she threw out, “or to… to not hurt anymore. I’m wrong, I don’t want you to cope. I want us to stop hurting. Because I respect you.”

She let out another breath. Her hand moved in place, and you knew she was trying to reach out, holding back until you did it for her. Put a palm on her fingers. She continued, “And I do not want to lie… I am fond of you.”

Maybe because she understood. Or because, at heart, she knew you were good. Worth respecting. You wanted to hurt others just as little as she did.

You nodded, responding, “Thank you. I— I am fond of you, too, just not… of—”

“Of the situation itself. I know.” You agreed with another nodding gesture, nibbling at your lower lip for a second. Jihyo sighed. “Realistically… without lying to yourself. Do you want to leave?”

Did you? Of course not. If you’d wanted to, you would’ve. But you were too weak to fall out of love with him. Or maybe, in truth, this was one of your strengths.

Compassion. Care. Forgiveness.

You never thought it took much to love him. But it always takes a lot to compromise, to fight through issues and circle back to love. Were you strong enough to do this?

Maybe. Probably.

Because it was him. Come on…

It was him.

“No,” you then said.

“You love him,” she stated. Not a question. A solid observation; anyone would see.

“I do.”

“…Would you regret staying more or leaving?”

Asking the right questions. Then again, the answer didn’t take much thinking. Your instinct knew, and your heart knew, and every overthinking thought, once cleared, would give way to one and only answer.

So you acknowledged, “I do not know how to leave him.”

And that was it.

Jihyo didn’t say more than that. She leaned back, one single nod, palms against the sharp grass; she didn’t seem to bother.

She stretched her chin towards the sun, indulging in the start of the spring. You saw a ladybug crawling up her clothed leg, but she didn’t pay it any mind. In fact, she didn’t utter anything at all anymore. Because she didn’t need to.

You knew, and she knew.

Because whatever she could’ve said, you already saw. Her silence divulged it.

Quietly, wordlessly made clear to you—

“Then you know where this will eventually go.”

The corners of your eyes are dry, somehow crusty when your lids flutter open the next morning. You guess that’s where the liquid traced down your face and left your skin to desiccate.

Your left side feels airy and empty, and when you turn, you see it devoid of a presence indeed. But there’s a soft, close rustling and whispering that you soon detect to be the man that priorly deserted the bed.

He’s standing close to your childhood room’s door, throwing a thin, baby blue coat over his shoulders. It’s reminiscent of the royalty he is.

His eyes meet yours in time as you blink at him, sad yet dreamy. The desire to act upon the emotions that the dream — no, the memory — called forth is vigorous. Like an invisible force, urged by the girl you expected it from the least.

She was right, you knew where it’d go. Perhaps you just needed more time; to heal, to come to terms with all the change around and inside you.

And you want to leave it behind and want to pull him back to you; but as his eyes flicker with an already established plan, you hold back, listen as he verbalises it, “Get dressed, my love. We shall go out today.”

“Out? Where?”

“Let me lead you. I wouldn’t want to ruin the moment.” And then he turns away. Adds, “I will wait downstairs. I will give you some time to get ready.”

He nods once towards the general direction of the house’s exit, hand already on the handle of the door. You start, “You can stay if you—”

But he sighs, not in annoyance but amusement. His mouth curves into a smile before he chuckles a bit, pushing down the handle. You silence, but he doesn’t leave before infiltrating each of your thoughts when he says, “I know you are fine with this, but—”

Just one more time, he turns to you, “But I want to revisit it. The moment I saw you and felt it for the first time.”

He doesn’t need to specify what it is, because you remember, too. The excitement seconds away from the door, when you’d rush to open and put your gloved hand into his. He’d bow and kiss your knuckles and offer his arm.

And you’d stare. You’d keep staring. Would marvel at the sun reflecting in his eyes or the raindrops trailing down his temple or the snowflakes melting in his hair.

You’d admire and fall, freeze and burn. Would wait for a single moment in a vacant corner, anticipate his lips closing in, holding the hand lifting to your cheeks.

The clot in your throat is thick as Jungkook leaves and shuts the door gently. And you, as lovesick as you have always been, let your legs dangle, for a minute tops before you hurry to find all you need.

Your maid helps you a little, tightening the corset and assuring you that Hana is still asleep. That your sister was planning on buying her toys today anyway, a certainly long trip. Maybe it was Jungkook who had schemed all this beforehand — it seems to work quite well.

Hana is never one to complain when it comes to her aunt or her uncle or her cousin.

You don’t notice how much time passes until you’re finished, a lock dangling on each side of your face and a summer hat sitting on top of the carefully mended hair. You only question what Jungkook did in your absence once you near the staircase.

Converse with your father? Flatter your mother? Soak in some of the sun, just outside on the porch, greeting passersby who must surely still remember him?

But it’s none of these things, really, and you should have known. Should have reminded yourself of the sincerity in his voice and the words he uttered as you awoke.

Because he’s nowhere near any of your family members; instead, he’s right there in the middle of the welcoming hall. Stands there like a lost but gorgeous, sweet puppy. Fondles with his fingers, a strand in his forehead.

His mane is as dark as his eyes when they find you at the top of the staircase, but they’re shinier, with a degree of affection you’ve known for years. So there’s something ancient in his gaze.

Something you knew back when life truly started. When he’d wait, just like this, and you’d walk down the stairs, as if descending to join him at the altar. Come to think of it, you think you remember similar sentiments in his pupils when you married him, too.

No, you don’t think so; you know. Hell might freeze over — you wouldn’t forget the way he looked at you, so vulnerable and in disbelief. Somewhat glad and relieved that you were there, putting his trust and his heart in your palms, yet expecting the worst.

You know that you taught him — to understand his worth and to see what he is to you.

And you see the same feelings now.

He knows you, knows you better than anyone. But he’s falling in love again. Seeing you again. Trying to mend what’s broken and finding an anchor in you, seeing the beauty one usually recognises in forests and waterfalls and colours.

You breathe in. Then out.

Keep watching as he watches.

His mouth is slightly apart, a bittersweet pain in his eyebrows, and once you reach him where he waits, you see him gulp. He dares not to blink as you take his hand, cherishes each moment and all he’s allowed to see of you.

Jungkook doesn’t need to say any of it. He has before. And even when he didn’t, you knew. He might have studied you over the years, but you know him better than anyone, too.

Strange, how your brain convinced you otherwise and planted doubts when you’ve never not been aware of the loyalty he always pledged to you.

But he’s so unwaveringly beautiful as you take him in. There is no moment in existence when he isn’t, but… those eyes. And the bridge of his nose, ending in that little button. The arch and curve of his lips and the moles you have kissed so often.

You’re breathless and taken when he smiles like this, madly insane when he says, “Not that I ever forgot, but,” he exhales, “I am incredibly lucky.”

Timid, you lower your head for a brief moment, fingers curling around his as you swallow the knot and tell him—

“Funny… I was going to say the same thing.”

You know the building. Know it like the back of your hand, even now.

“You brought me to…”

You look around, slightly blinded by the sun as you squeeze one eye shut. Some of the bricks look the same, some have been replaced. You didn’t realise how much you missed it here until now; not until the door of the carriage closes and it sinks in that he actually brought you here.

“The orphanage,” you breathe.

“You talk about them so much,” Jungkook says. Good — perhaps you did miss them and knew. But years passed. A new life started. Still… “We never got around to visiting this place. But I wanted to bring you this time.”

Your head turns to look at him. “Have you ever since you first asked to come to town?”

“Well… no,” he admits, “rather, I have wanted to for months. Before anything happened.”

You don’t know what to reply. There’s a little version of you in the back of your head, jumping in joy and tearing up at the same time. Another reminder of a million that Jungkook has always been attentive with you.

Maybe that’s why you fell just a bit deeper every day while other loves faded and wavered. Because Jeon Jungkook fucking cares. If not for anyone, then about you. You might die with this certainty embedded in your mind.

“Shall we go in?” Jungkook asks, and you nod, nervous and curious and so, so fond.

Once you’ve put your name in the visitors’ archive, the passage to the main hall is more or less empty, with a couple new faces passing you by. But once you reach the lovely place you’d frequent, watching spontaneous or carefully crafted performances on a small stage, names start coming to you.

It takes a second for them to perceive you. The orphanage can be a crowded place and random guests, especially unannounced, are not a given. You knew that back then, too. There are kind souls in this town, but the children are still not used to visitors.

They were used to you before you left.

And you see the month and year-long fondness they had set up for you once they do finally detect you. Some of them are new once again, but several you recognise. Just like you, they freeze momentarily, robbed of air.

For a second, they stare at you as if met with a forgotten ghost. As if they’re trying to place you into a fitting category in their lives, figuring out when you were part of it until they finally get it.

A boy and a girl, fraternal twins, are the first to abandon their game of nine men’s morris and get to their feet. You wave with a quiet, “Hello,” and they lift their hands and open their mouths, wordlessly telling you that, “I can’t believe this!”

The boy, Chul, would always hug you back when you came here. He was still so young then and now he’s grown by one or two heads. It’s easy to tell who they all are despite the time that passed; the moles and movements and smiles are still the same.

Though they have grown into such dashing gems.

Behind the twins, you see more children rushing, but he’s the first to speak your name, taking off his ivy cap, “You… it’s been so long. So long, welcome—”

“It has been,” you tell him as you allow him to take your hand. He must be around sixteen now. “Way too long as I can see. When did you start sounding like this?”

He laughs, looking around to the other kids and tells you, “You missed quite a lot. I even choose my clothes myself now.”

His sister chimes in, “Yet he’s not mature enough to see how awful they look at times.”

It is a joke, but you can’t help but feel a little sad. Even all those years ago, these two would bicker, playfully insulting each other’s intellect and appearance as siblings knowingly do. But even today, you know that the mere reason for unfitting clothes is the lack of resources at times.

The orphanage tries its best, but it can’t defy worse times. Chul is tall but on the leaner side, and the shirt is slightly too big. One day, you hope they can find a life outside from here, shape something they have dreamed of.

“You will grow into it,” you tell him, Jungkook quiet next to you, and pat the boy’s bicep, “you already look so much stronger.”

Chul blushes, carding his fingers through his chocolate brown hair. “I do try my best.”

Your eyes fall to the back, to a girl with lifted eyebrows and an absolutely delighted expression. Easily recognisable, too. She used to have flaming red hair; somehow, it has darkened with time, only by a shade.

But her eyes are still a rare green, as unique as all of her. Lily was one of the few children who travelled from afar, in her mother’s arms that she never got to meet, like most of the kids here.

You still don’t quite know which country she originally came from, and it took her a while to accept that she’d never meet who brought her here. Almost everybody struggled with this at some point, but it took Lily longer to come to terms with it.

She was always loved, though. You recall her being mature beyond her years, and even now, she seems so put together. She must be close to adulthood by now.

And she was also one of the girls speaking to you when you brought Jungkook here for the first time. Bittersweet and nostalgic; she embodies much more for you than just the sweet girl you used to know.

She reminds you of Hana a bit, though they have nothing in common. Perhaps it’s because you hope Hana will be just as amazing one day; heighten all the wonderful qualities she already possesses.

Lily steps forward, along with the others; you soon see that a bunch is missing. A lot of those you played with and talked to — but as the conversation continues, you soon learn that they left the orphanage when they were old enough.

Saved up from the work they did as they grew old enough and then travelled the country and cities to find a college, studied what they desired, established a life. Those you knew as older children back then are now probably somewhere, hopefully happy, finding joy in something new.

You feel inexplicably proud.

The rest is still here — hoping to follow in their footsteps. Different from you who disappeared so long ago. You said your goodbyes back then, but you were sure you’d return.

Life moved so fast.

The kids, soon finding themselves in a circle on the clean floor, facing you, ask where you went and how you were doing. What life was like away from here.

They’re sweet, these people. Didn’t mind folding their legs on the spot, but insisted on offering a blanket for you to sit on. Jungkook is close to you, just a few inches behind you, allowing you space and privacy with those you cherished.

But as enthusiasm in all voices grows, he speaks up as well, curious as he asks, “Do you all remember me, too, by the way?”

Some nod enthusiastically; others stare at each other, still young and even younger then. Jungkook picks them from the circle, cocking an eyebrow in faux-offense as he curses, “Well, damn. I shall remember this.”

But the twin sister, Eunji, shakes her head, reprimanding, “How do you all not remember? He was the prince!”

Enlightenment spreads over the others’ visages. Of course it’d take them a little. They have probably heard of the Jeon Jungkook, one of the main royals the town offers, but since he left with you years ago, they wouldn’t know his face anymore, would they?

They were so little when they met him first.

“I mean, I am not really a prince, but—” Jungkook starts, but one of the older ones interrupts—

“Well, you looked like one.”

Then, one of the youngsters that forgot, “You still do.”

Jungkook chuckles. You look over your shoulder, catch the crinkles around his eyes and the bunny grin; the way he lifts his shoulders some whenever he laughs. He looks much younger like this.

Like before. Like then.

“Wow,” his candied voice utters, “thank you so much.”

“Were you already married back then?” Eunji asks.

You shake your head. “No, not for a while still. I invited you, did you forget?”

“Ooooh. I keep mixing up memories. But dang,” she teases, leaning forward, “so you fell in love when you brought him here, huh?”

You smile; see Jungkook blush. These are still hormonal, young adults. They’re probably roaming around, falling in love, too. No wonder they dig such topics so much. They didn’t care all those years ago.

But you’re delighted when you tell them parts of your and Jungkook’s story, conveniently leaving out pieces that concern nobody but the two of you. You must admit even: being here helps you forget some of it.

And as time passes, you reckon this was partly Jungkook’s intention, too.

Another girl, Hayun, hitherto quiet and listening, wonders at some point, “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to visit you,” you tell them.

The answer is easy and clear as day, though you weren’t the one to manifest the idea into actions. You don’t tell them that it is Jungkook doing this for you; that you would’ve come back for them, but perhaps not now, not with how life went for weeks.

But you don’t regret a moment. You’re thankful. If you could, you’d take his hand, squeeze it, silent gratitude, so he knows how you feel about all of this. And you’re determined to keep their smiles on, to return when you can when they ask,

“Are you going to stay?”

“Not for long… I will need to go home in a day or two…”

You could feel guilty. But you don’t; you’re not leaving for so long ever again. You adored all of them from the bottom of your heart. You won’t let all of what you came to feel be for nothing.

“But… if you’d like,” you begin and some of them straighten their posture, “I can stay here for a bit today. I will come back another time, too. Is that… alright?”

Their reaction is immediate. How did you never assume how much you mean to them, too? Of course you do. You were a frequent face and they learned to love it, to appreciate you deeply. Considering some of the lonely days they lived through, they’d never forget you.

Your waterline dampens, for the millionth time this week, and you blink it away. You won’t cry, not here, not now. They’re a source of joy, so you’ll show them this exact emotion, too.

“Of course!” they chime. “As long as you’d like. We’ll be here.”

But it’s hard, containing it all in your eyes. They must be seeing your glassy look, because theirs turns empathetic, smiles everywhere you look. Filling the seconds of noon, and then afternoon, with stories.

You’re baffled about how much has changed. Years ago, they’d tell you about their day and ask you for permission to braid your hair and draw with you.

Now, they reveal their first loves and tease you and ask about your children. And still, some of the moments are so familiar.

Because you remember that Jungkook sat next to you back then like this, too, and that he was silent, staring and caring and falling in love just like he is now. Seeing you for who you are and creeping deeper into your heart.

Things have changed and relationships have changed, but then again, they haven’t.

The young people the two of you were, flirting and rolling your eyes, pushing the other and then pulling them in. Swiftly into his arms, into his mind. You’re more mature now, but still in love, still one molten soul.

And you still see the same damn devotion when you recite a poem the children remember pieces of. You’re glad you still recall most of it, because they struggle with finding the words, reminiscing about how they loved it but not what it consisted of.

A belt of straw and ivy buds, with coral clasps and amber studs, And if these pleasures may thee move, come live with me, and be my love.

When you catch him looking, he doesn’t avert his eyes. They stay on you, aching and yearning, soft but so expressive.

There’s unspoken comfort floating between you, a sense of pleasure and beauty that truly moves you to your core, like ivy buds and amber studs, and you feel it perfectly.

Your heart — much closer to his chest than your own.

His hand is balmy in yours as it escorts you out.

The children’s day isn’t infinite. They soon find themselves busy with chores, apologising every now and then, and as the evening breaks in, you decide to leave them to their meals and tasks.

You have barely left, stepping into the carriage when you whisper, “Thank you.”

He squeezes your fingers, much as you wished to do before, and asks, “What for, love? This was long overdue.”

But you shrug, tell him, “Not just for this. But also for reminding me who I used to be.”

“You’re still who you were.” He nods a bit, a corner of his lips slightly jerking upwards. “If I saw anything today, then that you’re still you.”

“This is…” You furrow your eyebrows, not because you’re irritated but because you’re so deeply affected. Still sore from the knots in your throat, still wounded by the longing. “This is comforting… hearing it from you.”

He lets your hand go, fingers sneaking up to your face instead, cradling it. It’s not the first time, but the repetitiveness doesn’t stop him from vowing to you that, “Whatever you might assume… I will always feel the same about you.”

This isn’t what you are scared of; Jungkook has proven over and over again that he loves you more than humanly possible. It’s rather that—

“And I will never feel the same for anyone else.”

This. It’s this.

Your chin trembles and you start to give in, succumbing to the touch and the eyes and the memories. Your voice is shaky when you start, “I love you, Jungkook… I do. If there was—”

The shake of his head quietens you. “We’re not done yet.”

“What?”

“We’re not done,” he repeats, pinching your chin tenderly, “tell me all you need to once the night is over. I… I need you to be certain.”

You blink. “Certain about what?”

“About… all you need to be certain about. You’d know what that is.” Digits come back to yours, holding them again as the carriage starts with an unsteady jolt. “Only you.”

Yes… maybe nothing has changed as much as you thought.

“Back then you gave me time to think, too… Never rushed,” you say.

“I always will.”

“…Even though we live a human life that is so limited.”

“I will keep waiting.”

“I will be certain before the night is over, then,” you promise, breathe out the pain, “like I was then.”

He brings your knuckles up to his velvety lips, silky like your scarf as he presses a feathery peck onto them. They graze his cheeks and then his jaw, and you barely notice when your body drifts towards his when he speaks.

“Like you were then.”

As far as you recognise, you aren’t too far from your home.

Jungkook walked through a park and along a river with you, admiring the content fish and swans in its depths and at its shore. You didn’t come here a lot when you were younger; mostly with your parents, so there are memories attached to this place that aren’t quite his and yours.

Or at least, until now.

You assume Jungkook is giving the two of you the time you need, bringing back pieces of what was. But you don’t fully understand what it is and what he’s doing until you reach a bench and a spot you are very well acquainted with.

Jungkook’s and your name is clearly written in the sky above where you stand, like you own this place. Like it’ll be you who’ll be remembered by those passing by once both of you have left this realm.

The resemblance to the night you first spoke to Jungkook, many, many years ago when you were just kids, too, is striking. It’s when your initial enmity started; when you learned to abhor somebody you’d eventually learn to treasure.

And this… this is exactly where he first asked you about the odd deal. To be courted. When you stared at him in disbelief and dismissed him with a hundred accusations.

Why did he bring you here?

And why do you feel this way, as if things could truly be okay again? How does it all fit?

So you ask, “Why here?”

“Because… I don’t care which insufferable things we felt for each other,” he explains, “we started here.”

But I want to revisit it. The moment I saw you and felt it for the first time.

This is it, isn’t it? Jungkook didn’t just plan a random outing due to the pleasant day, the warm sun, the gentle breeze slowly introducing thunder and grey clouds. If he had, you’d have spent the day on a hill the two of you love, or strolled amongst a crowd.

No, Jungkook is retracing your steps. The ones you took several years ago, when you hadn’t each exchanged half of your hearts just yet. He wants to bring you back to a place of hopelessness and hostility, prove to you that sometimes, you can save a withering flower.

Or make something new bloom instead.

“We changed so much over time, no? I can barely remember what I used to feel that day,” he says; he’s right. You cannot even conjure fragments of the revulsion between you; it dispersed so quickly. “I can’t even believe any of the hatred ever existed at all.”

“As if we were someone else.”

“It seems like it, does it not? And then… now…”

Yes…

A shared mansion and shared offspring. A beautiful face choosing toys with her aunt and twins familiarising themselves with the grandparents they met too seldomly.

From there to here, from black to white. Then, to a hue of grey.

“As we started our life together…” Jungkook starts, his face more like ash now; the space between the clouds is narrowing. “Did you ever doubt the change? Remember how we were the years before.”

You would never dream of such a question or a thought. Would never form a doubt such as this in your mind. Even then, you were nearly blindly trusting, hopeful in people. You knew they were capable of change, because you weren’t the same anymore either.

“No,” you tell him, “I never thought you were a bad person at your core, but… it needed time for me to realise, too. And when we became what we are today, I knew who you really were. So no, I never did.”

You wait, watch him nod. He seems relieved but also nervous, distracted. Tells you, “I did a little. Doubt myself. I was scared that I wasn’t truly that kind person you saw me as. That I was still the same man plaguing you.”

“You never plagued me,” you promise, stepping near, an automatic hand finding his cheek. “You gave your all.”

“Do you remember,” he begins, halting when a quiet thunder sounds, “do you remember how scared I always was to mess up? Before Hana and anything.”

The books he’d read. The memories he’d carry. The conversations you’d have. Frightened to repeat or forward what he’d grown up with.

“I do,” you say.

“And you’d always remind me that I was easy to love… that effort is always worth it.”

“It is. It was for you, too. Our kids love you.”

The rain collects silvery in his waterline, at the same time as it does above in the sky. He’s harbouring something in this fragile heart of his — a dozen questions and a hundred scenarios. You know he’s hoping for a specific one, hoping for the right responses to all his inquiries.

So there is no surprise in the words he utters next, nor in the shaky fear in his voice, “And you?”

You're quick to answer.

“I will never unlove you.”

“D-do you also remember… how I’d always tell you how afraid I was you’d run away? Before I married you. How much I feared that I’d wake up and not find you anymore?”

“But you found me. I would never hide—”

“But I’m still scared. You reminded me that everybody’s worth loving, despite their mistakes and burdens, and despite all I let out on you or anyone else… you found a way to forgive me and love me. And I’m still scared because—”

His palms shoot up, too, holding your face much as you are holding his. He presses them in, pulls you closer, and you gasp soundlessly. Then, “Because none of this was or is ever a given.”

“I know, too, Jungkook,” you counter, “I never took you for granted. And you know it, you were never bad. Just…”

“Mistreated. You’ve told me, just… I chose to handle it all… way worse than mistreatment justifies. You never did so, no matter what or who hurt you because you’re the sound one, you know?”

“Jungkook, my coping does not have to align with yours, we’re different—”

“Yet, baby, I learned to be a proper human being because of you.”

“This is too big of a responsibility, Kook… it was never just me.”

“No…” he says, gulping, shutting his eyes for a second when another thunder rolls. Fitting spring evening for a blossoming yet blue couple. “I don’t want to attach my sanity to how you react to the things I do. I did this once and…”

He shakes his head, moving your hands with them. Your thumb brushes over his cheekbone and then sideways to his hair. He continues, “I don’t want my ability to make wise choices to be dependent on who you are to me, but… I will never deny what your existence did for me.”

You nod, as if to pacify him; you do it with your children sometimes, make them feel heard and seen. It works with every human being. Jungkook is no different. He seeks your approval and seeks your love.

He sniffles. “Perhaps it wasn’t you making me decent but— it was you leading me back to myself.”

The sun is starting to set. You don’t know when time disappeared and rushed, but it’s almost invisible behind the pale sky. And now, the first drops fall, too. Starting slow but exploding quickly.

It’s a harsh reminder that, as a human being, you cannot repeat moments from the past. Even when you trace them back, they won’t come again; you won’t feel the exact same giddiness again.

But you can create new ones, more dizzy days.

Ones that resemble the night you stepped out of the orphanage, or any other hazy and dark evening that you spent wading through the shower instead of evading it. Or the moment you saw the duke’s son properly for the first time, sobbing on a lonely bench.

Whatever ghastly and foggy disappointment grew in your chest that very night a lifetime ago has long been replaced by guilt — guilt about not understanding better as a kid, not being able to elude the disgust that would follow your entire youth.

But most of all, sadness about how hurt he truly was and would continue to be; how you see something similar now, even though the situations differ drastically. Most of the issues from then have been resolved, and now he’s caught in something else.

Then again, losing somebody and dreading loss both induce fear, don’t they?

And it’s you who helped him last time; how deeply does the pain really run when his anchor is drowning, too?

You look around the world for a moment, lost in dreams and in your head. Jungkook calls your name, a distant sound as the rain patters onto your skin. It takes you a second to recall that you’re supposed to answer, and when you look at him, his voice is so terribly delicate—

“Do you remember?”

“…I do. All of it.”

“We’re living a new life now, aren’t we?”

“I guess we are,” you say, your hands falling a bit, grazing his neck to keep his attention and sanity just enough. “But a new life means rebirth. That does not have to be a bad thing.”

“It doesn’t,” Jungkook agrees. His hair is already soaked — when he shakes his head even a bit, the tips throw the drops into all directions. “But some things stay the same.” He stares up for a second, blinking faster as the sprinkle falls into his eyes. “The rain still connects us to the sky.”

He laughs when you do, suddenly and sweetly, breaking out of you. It has been a while. You keep your smile intact, but the chuckle stirs another emotion in you that you’ve kept at bay for the minutes you’ve stood here.

Glassy eyes find his, silence befalling the world for a moment barring the gentle storm. Then—

A sob.

It travels up straight from your throat, no way of stopping it, no matter how hard you try. Your voice stutters, eyebrows coming together, and his expression changes. Culpable, unforgiving towards himself.

His head sinks a bit, and you guess it doesn’t help when you admit, “Jungkook… I am so hurt.”

“I know,” he whispers; you’re surprised you hear him at all. “I am, too.”

“I’m so… why are my thoughts everywhere, Kook?”

Your desperation implodes and explodes, evident in every tone and tear. You hold onto the collars of his blue coat, tug yourself closer to him. You’re aching, but you need him nearer. Maybe you’ll spiral if he isn’t.

“It hurts so goddamn much to think about it, well knowing who I am to you, and… and I hate losing this part of my sanity,” you tell him.

“Do you…” he starts, swallowing. The state of his eyes resembles yours now; the salty grief is similar as it glides down his already wet face. “What do you need me to do to be happy? Do you need me go— gone?”

He barely gets the word out. Hesitates. So terrified of hearing your answer, unsure whether to take it back, as if it could make you forget he suggested it at all.

But you know Jungkook. He’d rather cut pieces of his heart and never mend them again if it meant bringing you peace and comfort.

The truth, though, is…

“How could I?” you mutter to the ground, not daring to move, like it could make reality dematerialise and throw you into one without him. “No matter the pain, I think that— that losing you would hurt more.”

His breathing accelerates. Some of the life he always breathes into you sparks anew, and he grasps your hand, lets you know that, “You’re not losing me. I’m right here.”

“What if this all, or I, ruin your life?”

“…How?”

“By being like this all the time, Kook—”

“What?” You shut up at the tone. He has told you before — he detests you accusing yourself of something when he messed up… always his words. “Do you know what’d happen if you left?”

You do. You don’t.

You have an idea of what happened when you were away, but he never told you all of it. If you disappeared for good, you’d possibly be met with a world with a Jungkook in it that you don’t even want to imagine.

“I don’t care if you ruin my life,” he emphasises, “I want you to. I want to sit at the fireplace with you and laugh and cry and fight with you. I want to see the kids grow, together with you. I want this. Okay… Okay?”

“I—”

“And I want you to keep remembering it all. How we started, how we grew, too. How I thought I’d die without you the moment I saw you walking towards me at the altar.” He brings your hands to his face as he always does, brushing your knuckles against his lips. “I… I can’t have this with anyone else.”

He moves your fingers to his eyes, and a moment later, you feel further wetness, the tears against your skin. He shakes his head, lets all he concealed for weeks flood out at once. You knew he was hurting, but he barely ever showed it as openly as he is now.

Just like you are. You remember — that he held back for you, died a bit every day.

“And I don’t want to,” you hear him whisper. And then, again. “I really don’t fucking want to.”

You’re speechless; if only for a second.

“This is… what you’ve grown to feel?”

“I always have,” he tells you through his trembling voice, a pitch higher now as he capitulates, “she was just— a fleeting memory of just one moment. And you are every second of my day.”

He has been occupied all these years — in every single nanomoment of every damn day and night, you were the main thought taking over his brain. Whatever he’s done, whatever’s he’s ever said, he’s done and said so for you.

Jungkook favours you over every existence in this universe, and you should have always known. No, you did. You were never an overthinker until the world turned upside down, until it forced dubious hesitation into you that you should’ve deemed irrelevant from the start.

Jihyo isn’t part of him anymore. He didn’t see you when she was. He didn’t see her now that you are. Does that very past matter more than this, though? This warm touch and the promises in it and the love in his eyes and the sadness in his lower lip.

“You don’t know who you are to me,” Jungkook says, not waiting for your query before he tells you, “you don’t know who you are at all, do you? Do you never see all the kindness and generosity? How selfless you are and how much you care?”

“Don’t you? See it in yourself, Jungkook?”

“This is what I mean. You’re so fucking forgiving, too, no? I—” Pause. Then, quieter, “Please forgive me…” He’s begging now, full on crying, closing in until his lips float over yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Jungkook has kissed you a million times. But when he does this time, he adds emotions you don’t think you’ve ever felt his lips press against yours.

And you feel it all when he leans in, parted mouth colliding with yours. He’s been so afraid to kiss you; but not now. Not when every single one of your glances pleads for him to. Not when you’re not ready to break the rhythm, not now, not ever.

Everything is already blurry around you, but it seems to vanish now. You still register the glossy streets, the silver, misty air, but all of it seems unreal. And then, you finally close your eyes, give in.

None of this feels rushed, but it feels urgent. Slow and tentative, but also desperate and thirsty. The rain combines with your tears and slips down your faces, threaded through your hair and soaking your clothes.

But you don’t care. You don’t move. You need warmth. Need shelter. This achingly gentle, still and suspended moment where everything ceases to exist.

Only skin and rain and tongues and lips. Only him and how he holds you, pulls you in, uncaring of who might see or what they might say. This waited to happen. You know it did.

It takes minutes until you gasp for air, remembering to breathe, fingers in his hair and forehead against his as you realise that you will never be able to unshackle yourself from him. You’re here to stay, following his steps, entangled with him until you cease to exist, too.

You’ll keep running back until he catches you. And you’ll catch him when he hurries to you.

And as he exhales into the air, face half lit as the moon rises, you clutch his body to yours, his ruined clothes for dear life, cheeks searing as you tell him—

“I do, too. I love you, too.”

For a moment and for an eternity.

Seasons changed again.

The twins talk now.

And ever since they learned to finally babble, it’s all they’ve been doing. Hana loves the fact, but acts as if she doesn’t. She’s an undoubtedly mature child. Knows too much for her age, still forgiving — but her ego also still remains intact, especially when it comes to her brothers.

The care she grants them rattles your heart. Protective and loving and so giving. But the fights continue; your twins are as gentle as their parents, but they do not shut up when they feel like they don’t need to.

They confront you or their sister when needed. Probably got this from you, too.

So nobody is really surprised when Hana feels as thoroughly irritated as she does most days growing up with them, a whiny voice exclaiming, “I don’t want your carrots! Eat them yourself!”

The brothers have been dumping their vegetables onto her plate for the past seven minutes; half of their meal makes a mess on the floor. You usually don’t let them eat on your precious carpet, but the kids have been particularly sweet these days.

Absolutely and unwaveringly mannered at yesterday’s gathering especially. You were celebrating Hana’s eighth birthday; maybe they were too distracted by the pastries and the cake to fight, too.

But you’re too weak, too easy to convince. As strict as needed at times, but not entirely immune to their irresistible charm. And Jungkook… he’s a hopeless cause anyway when it comes to them.

“Stop this!” Hana yells, returning the already mashed baby carrots. She emphasises each word with each piece she throws back onto their plates. “Eat. Your. Veggies!”

“I dun want to,” Jaehyuk responds, and Jaehoon, following, imitates. It fully provokes her. “You like them.”

“I am done, Jae. Let me rest.”

You can’t hold back the sudden laugh, not even when she fights back with a sigh, leaning back. Acts as if she took care of the dozen chores in the mansion when she’s merely exhausted from the party. To be a child again.

“I need my quiet time,” she told you, and you furrowed your eyebrows in delight before you granted the princess what she wished for.

The sun is setting outside, though having been hidden for most of the day. It’s colder now, but dusk is still pretty. You’re thankful for this; thankful for it all. Because this time of the day equals Jungkook close to you.

Done with work. Hip to hip on the same carpet against the couch that you once kept your distance on from him.

But you long stopped thinking of this. Whenever you find yourself here, basking in the presence of your little family, you think of the precious moments before anything happened. In hindsight, however, not much changed in the extent of affection after all.

Because you learned to cope, learned to let go. Jungkook still meets Jihyo sometimes, forms a bond with his son, provides him with a sense of fatherly love. And you let him — you don’t feel insecure anymore.

“Daddy,” his girl calls, tapping his knee for exclusive attention, “say something.”

And the father, ever so diplomatic and peaceful, settles on, “Leave the carrots, okay? I’ll eat them later. Stop fighting.”

“Hear?” Hana voices, an accusing finger scolding her brothers. They offer a full grin, absolutely aware of their effect on her.

Your eyes widen when Jaehyuk randomly and without a good reason rebukes, “Stupid Suhana.”

“Hey, hey!” you reprimand immediately, cocking an eyebrow until they go quiet. Their attention shifts to their food innocently as you chastise, “Don’t say such things. And definitely not like you’re insulting the name.”

“We are because we dun like her.”

Another giggle from Jaehoon. The boy mostly listens; doesn’t pick a fight. But if it’s about his siblings, he’ll definitely be a culprit, too.

“You so do,” Hana defends, and you agree with a nod and folded arms, “now eat. Leave me alone.”

This time, they listen; resume to their dinner, but not before sticking out their tongues to her. She ignores them, fiddling with her fingers. When she looks at you, her head is tilted, eyes curious as they are all the time before she asks, “Where does this name come from anyway, Mama?”

“Oh…” you respond, shooting Jungkook a look right away. You tell her, “You should ask your dad. It was his idea.”

Her gaze shifts to him, and he hums; then explains, “It was your aunt’s name. So you’re named after her.”

“Oh. Can I meet her?”

Your eyes drift to your lap. You register the change in his undertone as he speaks on, “I’m afraid this won’t be possible. She’s… she’s not with us anymore, baby.”

Hana’s mouth forms a silent Oh. She’s empathetic, sad when she sees a dead bird or a sick cat. She knows to grieve, but she knows to move on, too — so she says, “Well then, I like the name. I think I was named after somebody great!”

“Oh?” you wonder. “How do you know?”

“I wouldn’t have her name if she was bad.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you resume staring at him from the side, quietly finding the hand on his thigh as he answers, “I’m sure she was. I have heard only good things.”

“Good,” Hana says, much at the same time as Jungkook adds, “If I could… I’d thank her.”

You don’t know who this statement is directed to. Perhaps it’s too complex of a thought to truly expand on for your children; perhaps he’s thinking out loud for himself. But Hana doesn’t ask anyway, even though she hears it.

Too distracted by Jaehyuk, the troublemaker, who pokes her annoyance back, and she slaps his hand away, sulking. You let them handle this — sometimes, it’s easier to get rid of a situation when you let it unfold.

Instead, your eyes drift back to your husband, and you wonder, “Thank her, yes?”

“Yes.”

“What would you say?”

From the corner of your eyes, you see Jaehyuk and Jaehoon leave their posts and march to a disheartened Hana. No matter how impossible they are, they don’t like seeing her anything other than joyful.

It warms her heart as much as yours, you know. Soothes it when they position themselves on either side, cuddling into her, eliciting a half toothless smile. You’re content.

Back to Jungkook in time, you listen, “What I’d say?” He turns his hand under yours and entangles both your digits. “Hm, I would say…”

He ponders for a while. Waits for the right words to come to him.

And then, a puff of air escapes, your heart swelling when his eyes soften with his voice, “I would try and word my gratitude towards her. It was her who showed me that even the worst people can care.”

“He cared for her.”

“He did,” he squeezes your fingers, shoulder to shoulder. “It was also partly her who saved me, even if she’ll never know. And it was her who brought me closer to you. I wish I could tell her.”

“I wish I’d met her even once, too.”

“I know.”

He nods. The Suhana you never got to know hasn’t been a topic very often. As years passed by, your mind developed its own image of the Suhana you do know. Hana, Suhana.

But when she is, this remains a common phrase. The never-to-be-fulfilled wish to see her just once. A stranger who never even knew of your existence, let alone your name.

“Suhana was supposed to stay,” Jungkook then voices. “But she didn’t and still managed to shine such light onto us from up there. So yes… I would express my gratitude for the life she gave me.”

He sighs, as if remembering somebody from a distant past. “For the life I had the blessing to witness as a human being and… will have the privilege to experience for the rest of my days. I would thank her for that.”

You cannot stop looking. You keep gazing and gazing. In truth, you don’t think you ever stopped ever since you came back from that one healing trip from your town years ago. You kept gaping. Kept falling — again and continuously.

And he’s still beautiful. Still the same mesmerising entity you once married. The same bright smile, still somehow youthful, blindingly lovely when he gives you one even now.

You and me, in every damn life.

Fingers brush his hair back, and you ask, “How could you ever doubt your kindness?”

And in response, he kisses your forehead, “I don’t anymore, I don’t think.”

You beam back at him. Hook your arm with his, settling your tired head on his chest. You hear his heart underneath, like a lullaby with a steady rhythm, and wait for the children to grow fatigued enough to go to bed.

And after that, he’ll carry you to your room, you foresee it already. Will let you fall into feathery, tranquil dreams.

Then again, perhaps you don’t need to wait for any of it. Don’t ever need a slumber for it.

Because you already live in a dream. And you are one, too.

okayyyyy. i don't cry a lot irl at all, but i'm so weak when it comes to these characters. crazy that their story is finished (once again), but i truly hope you guys will remember them for as long as you can. i know some of you grew to love them a lot and i am so, so thankful, truly. 🤍

if you can, please do let me know what you think! i shall answer everything bc it makes me giddy af anyway lol so do give this a like, a reblog and leave a comment, and talk to me about it!! <3 see you with more taegularities shenanigans soon mwah

#jungkook fic #<3

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alexiajjk · 2 months ago

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Something About You (05) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, minor injuries (18+)

Word count: 22.1k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: This is a long one! If you're reading this, I hope you feel the flutter of butterflies and that warmth I felt while writing. ☺️ And definitely listen to Beautiful Soul and Yes or No!

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

You turn to Jungkook with a questioning look, waiting to see if he’ll change his mind. He’s been the one driving whenever you have a trip and you offered to be the one to drive both of you to the airport this time but he refused. While you know he enjoys this, you thought it might be nice to let him rest even a little bit.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“So have you,” he answers. “And you know I don’t mind. You can just sleep during the drive and then again during the flight.”

You pout again because of his refusal to accept your offer but you let him and no longer argue. Perhaps it’s what he needs after the day he’s had.

It’s a Thursday and there’s a long weekend ahead, which is why this trip to Jeju was scheduled at this time. Taehyung leaves for New York in three weeks and Seokjin and Hayoung are getting married in two months. This is the perfect time to get the group together again before the three of them go through major life changes, and none of you would miss it for the world.

You had a Board presentation that you couldn’t miss in the afternoon and Jungkook had classes until 3 PM, which then extended because of a parent meeting he had to attend. It’s why both of you had to book the later flight while everyone else flew in at noon. They sent a photo of all of them gathered by the pool at the rented house, and you couldn’t wait to finally clock out and switch off so you could relax and enjoy, too, even for just a few days.

Jungkook instructs you to buckle your seatbelt then heads off, undoubtedly tired but still alert and cautious while driving. You look at him and try to see if something’s different, if this really is the same man you’ve known for years. You look away at the reminder that yes, he is, and he’s not the one that’s changed. It’s probably you.

“Everything okay?” He asks as he glances at your direction.

“Yup,” you answer too quickly. “Just… you know, tired and excited.”

“Take a nap then,” he suggests. “Time will fly by and we’ll be at the airport and then in Jeju before you know it.”

“I’m fine. I can, uh, keep you company or something,” you shrug. “You kinda don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t mind it,” he says, the little dip on his cheek forming as he smiles.

Has he always looked this charming?

You shake your head as if to snap out of it.

It’ll take an hour to get to Incheon. You feel like you’d miss out if you slept and you internally scold yourself because a month ago, you totally would’ve dozed off right away.

Well, not this time. But even if it’s your own choice to stay up, you suppose that the universe was still playing with you because of all the times to be stuck with Jungkook, it just had to be now when your heart has been acting a little too weird.

It started right after the college reunion party almost two weeks ago. You had him sleep over at your place after some asshole busted his lip, and that’s when the thoughts of possible feelings started invading your mind. You blame Jimin, really, and you’d contemplated on keeping your distance from Jungkook to sort yourself out but that’s impossible given this trip.

It didn’t help that you promised his students you’d watch their final taekwondo match - which they won - so you spent last Saturday with him, too.

Your heart still kept doing that thing, especially whenever you found your eyes locked on him even if he wasn’t even the one on the mat. You went out to dinner after that, and you couldn’t help but pay attention - to the way he cooked your samgyeopsal the way you wanted, to how he made sure you always had them on your plate, to how he held off the perilla leaf for you so you could peel it off.

Suddenly, everything he did made you smile, like how he kept scolding himself for eating so much and then cutely asking if you were okay to wait in line with him at this pop-up dessert store.

So many things also started to seem attractive to you, like the way he stood during the match with his hands in his pockets and the way he combed his hair with his fingers after he removed his baseball cap. Even the way he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he drove became quite hypnotizing, just like right now, and you’re unsure where all these thoughts are coming from. Or if they’ll stop.

“So, how was your meeting with the Board?” He asks, disrupting your visions of him.

“Long,” you chuckle sarcastically. “The world’s in shambles and we have to be strategic in deciding which research projects to move forward with since funding is scarce. And you, how was your meeting with the parents?”

“Productive,” he hums. “I stepped out then met with their son. We were playing catch then I bought him ice cream then he opened up. I think we’re getting somewhere.”

Jungkook had mentioned one of his students has been displaying aggressive behaviors and wouldn’t talk to anyone apart from him. He realized early on in his teaching career the weight of his responsibility as an educator, and that just because he taught PE, it doesn’t mean he was limited to just sports or physical health.

As it turned out, he’s very relatable to his students, and perhaps his laid-back and placid nature has a lot to do with that. It’s what prompted him to read more research and watch documentaries on adolescent mental health and how sports could help with managing it.

You’ve been directing him to the appropriate resources and even linked him up with a professional who could speak to the faculty regarding child development so it’s a topic you’ve been talking about more. He tells you about their email exchange until he says that neither of you will be talking about work this weekend.

So you tell him about the sci-fi horror film you watched with Mo-eum last night and how you were both screaming at the same time then just ended up laughing at each other. Jungkook says she’s more of a scaredy-cat than you are but you express fear much more openly and you agree.

“I heard we can set up an outdoor movie theater in the house,” he smirks at you. “We have a couple of options.”

“Jimin’s gonna push me away again if I scream in his ear,” you frown.

“I won’t,” he says nonchalantly, and you have to pretend to yawn so you don’t have to keep looking at him without saying anything back.

What’s that supposed to mean anyway? You try to recall if he’s also always been this bold and you’re just getting affected now, but it gives you a headache so you change the subject.

You end up talking about where you’re gonna be eating in Jeju and memories of your first trip there as a group a few years ago.

And so time flies. You’re parking at the airport carpark before you know it. You check in at the counter then enter the departure area. It’s when your stomach starts to grumble that you drag Jungkook around to find some snacks that you feel like having. You find a stall that sells various kinds of croquettes, kind of like the ones you had in Japan a few months ago.

You’re wiggling in excitement and so is he. Cheese was his favorite and though it’s not the same, you’re both happy that they at least look like it.

You buy some drinks and find a spot and begin trying each type you got. He bites one then feeds it to you; you bite one then feed it to him, too. It feels natural, as this is something both of you have definitely done before and you never minded. But now, you have to force your brain to stop overthinking things just so you don’t start acting weird because of it.

It’s when you’ve both decided your favorite flavors that your phone starts to ring. You pick up the video call and see your friends on the screen, showing you the barbecue and dinner set up in the property’s outdoor space. Mo-eum’s voice goes through, saying that there’s a feast waiting for you and Jungkook when you arrive. Seeing the table now, your eyes widen at the quality and quantity of meat and vegetables laid out.

“We’ve got ramen, lots of beer, so many snacks… Jungkook’s gonna go wild in here,” she adds.

“I’m already drooling,” he tells her.

Your older friends greet and tell you to get there quick as the phone gets passed around. Finally, it reaches Jimin and Taehyung, who both surface from the pool and proceed to ask you and Jungkook where you are and what you’ve been doing.

“Eating,” you answer with your mouth half-full. “I found this stall and they sell croquettes that remind me of the ones from the rest stop going to the ski resort. It’s so goo–”

“Yah,” Jungkook disrupts you with a nudge on your arm.

You turn to your side to face him. “What?”

He takes a piece of napkin and wipes the sticky sauce that you didn’t realize has dripped on your hoodie. Your eyes follow his hand that tries to remove the stain, and just as you’re about to sweetly thank him, he flicks your nose to tease, catching you completely off guard. You shriek in surprise and smack his chest, which is your natural response to something like that.

You glare at him but your facade breaks when he scrunches his nose in amusement.

“Dude, wipe your mouth,” he scolds. “Do I have to wipe the crumbs off you, too?”

“What?” you ask, brushing them off with your fingers.

You take his phone and open the camera to assess your face. Once you’ve cleaned yourself, you snap a photo and return the device on the table.

“Did you just take a picture?” He groans.

“Yup,” you flutter your eyelashes.

Jungkook sees that it’s a silly face and decides to send it to your group chat of five to tease, though he doesn’t deny the giddiness he feels at the act.

It’s something you’d totally do. He’s seen random photos of you in Jimin’s and Taehyung’s photo album and you always say that maybe one of their cute friends sees it and asks for your number or something, but you say none of that to him this time.

“Wow, the one time Kook sends a text, it’s a picture of ___,” Taehyung laughs, earning him a glare from the said man.

But you don’t seem bothered. Jungkook’s unsure if you even heard it over Jimin’s giggling and the laughter in the background, but it’s enough for him to text his friend to shut up, earning him a chuckle this time.

You talk a bit with Hayoung and she reminds you of the instructions upon your arrival. It’s not long after when you drop the call and start heading towards the gate.

You don’t wait too long but during that period, you start feeling the exhaustion from the day. You know you’re gonna need to sleep during the flight so you could have enough energy to keep up with your friends for the rest of the evening. You’re definitely gonna make sure to make the most out of this trip to celebrate your cousin and soon-to-be cousin-in-law and of course, to savor your time with Taehyung before he leaves again.

You’ll do your best to not overthink this whole Jungkook thing for now and decide to just be natural about everything. You don’t want him thinking that something’s wrong if you start acting differently because you know yourself - if he asks, you’ll most likely say something and you’re unsure if you’re ready for what will happen after.

The call for boarding is announced and you follow Jungkook’s lead to the plane. He sits on the window seat like last time, and you’re reminded of the Japan trip again and how he made sure you got to sleep properly during the flight.

It’s a smaller aircraft this time and a shorter flight time so you won’t need to lie on his lap or anything. But the thought of being alone with him makes you a little nervous so you try to talk about something to make sure you balance out all the times that you’ll be lost in your thoughts of him.

“Those croquettes were good but the ones at that rest stop were still superior,” you sigh.

“Yeah. That was seriously one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” he hums, reminiscing about that trip, which he tends to do a lot because of you.

“Do you ever just think about that trip, Kook?” You ask as you gaze out the window and watch the sky change colors. “Do you miss it and wish you were back?”

“I do,” he hums, downplaying it a little. If you only knew. “I miss the food, the snow, the long drives… There’re lots of great memories from that trip.”

“I miss those bits, too,” you smile. “You still have the whiskey I got you?”

“Yup, barely touched.”

“What! I thought you liked it!”

“Exactly,” he points out. “So I have to savor it. I can only get it from that town, and during the Christmas season, and the chances of me going there again are slim. Plus, you gave that to me and you’ve never given me anything. It’s like, a memento–”

“Of our friendship?” You say mindlessly.

You internally smack yourself because though you could sometimes be a dense person like your friends say - and only because you’re used to expressing your feelings and attraction first, as you like to argue - you’re not that dumb. You’re worried that you just drew a hard line by saying the F word but then again, why is that such a concern to you?

You realize he hasn’t replied and it’s been a few seconds already so you slowly turn to him. He meets your eyes and says that it is, then gives you a soft smile before he looks out the window.

Jungkook wouldn’t describe that exchange as him being friendzoned. As the optimist that he is, he’d like to think that your gift to him meant that much to you, too.

You’re the one who offered to get it for him and insisted it was a gift. After years of being friends, that was the first time you’d ever given him anything, and whatever it means, there was a change somehow. That’s a bottle that always brings a smile to his face whenever he opens his liquor cabinet and sees it. He’ll definitely keep it there for as long as he can.

You return your gaze out the window and glance at him. You’re glad that the gift means that much to him. You have the snow globes on the shelf by your desk and whenever you see them, you’re reminded of the snow-covered towns and the warmth from that whole week.

More recently, you think about the mornings where you watched Jungkook from the passenger seat as he navigated the icy roads. You think about your conversations and how he gave you a piggyback ride and then treated your sore muscles.

He has always been a good friend so you’re not wrong to describe that gift as a memento of your friendship. You know that what you share is something you deeply treasure, but you also wonder if it means the bond has strengthened then, or if somewhere along the way, it started to feel something more.

The plane takes off and Jungkook turns to you, looking every bit comfortable and comfy with his oversized hoodie and beanie. He gestures towards his shoulder, offering it to you.

“You sleep,” you say softly, knowing how tired he is, too.

“I will,” he yawns, sinking further down his seat and leaning on the window, his eyes slowly falling.

You nod, knowing that it’s the more natural thing to do. So you take your pillow to hug then lean on Jungkook’s shoulder, immediately finding a position that doesn’t strain your neck.

But your arms are a bit too awkward being in each other’s way and you see him adjust his. He slightly lifts it and you take the hint, wrapping your arms around his arm instead like an added pillow.

Now this feels natural, as you feel him settle himself more comfortably next to you and you do the same. You suppose that’s how it is with people you’ve known for years - you just adapt and accommodate each other. You manage the exhaustion and inconveniences and just figure out how to make things comfortable and fun.

You know it’s always been like this with Jungkook and you think back to these past months and how it’s been easier, more enjoyable, and something you keep searching for.

Maybe this is what it’s like to pay attention to your feelings. Because as you snuggle closer and he pulls you in, your hand brushes against his, and then the sudden urge to hold it fills you up inside.

You wake up from your hour-long nap feeling only a tiny bit better. You wish there was more time, but you’re also not sure if it’s because of the need for more sleep or something else.

Jungkook still looks tired, but he sits up and pats your head, then asks if you slept well. You nod as you take a deep breath and there’s a moment where you just look at each other, still in your own little world of comfort and peace.

He breaks it and curiously looks around, and you ask him what he’s looking for.

“Trying to see if there are angry passengers who might’ve been disturbed by the snoring from these seats,” he purses his lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to process what he means, and you smack his chest when you do.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was you. It could’ve been me,” he defends.

“Yeah, you do snore quite loudly,” you hum. “But apparently not much when you’re not comfortably in bed. Maybe I’m the same.”

“True. Well, no one’s giving us the death glare so I think we’re clear.”

You just laugh at him in response then get ready to deplane.

You get your bags from the carousel quite quickly and you immediately find your driver holding up a sign with your names. You get inside the car and once you start moving, you open your window to feel the wind blow on your face. It’s the last month of spring and it’s the kind of coolness that you think is perfect for this island life. It’s chilly but not too much. The sun is bearable and gives the right amount of warmth.

Jungkook glances at you as you enjoy the evening breeze. You’ve both just arrived but it’s felt like a dream since he’s been with you, especially when you cuddled with him on the plane. It felt bittersweet that he was exhausted. He at least didn’t completely lose his mind from the giddiness, but he also wished he could’ve savored it more.

Still, he’s not one to complain. He gave the opening but you’re the one who moved closer. He decides that maybe that’s how he’ll go about these four days.

You arrive at the house in less than half an hour and you could already hear all the noise that your friends are making. Hoseok is the one who opens the gate and excitedly greets you.

You enter the property and are in awe with how it’s set up. There are two houses perpendicular to each other. There’s a pool on the left side and in the center of it all is an area with trees and hammocks, a small fire pit, the barbecue grill, and picnic tables.

You try to take it all in in the midst of hugging all your friends and trying to tell them how your flight went.

“We just… slept,” you answer as most of them gather around you. “Neither of us snored. I think.”

“There were no complaints so I think we were fine,” Jungkook adds.

“So, how did you sleep?” Jimin whispers in your ear. “Was it your head on his lap, his head on your lap? Or did you just lean on his shoulder? Did he– ow, fuck!”

You glare at him as you let go of the tiny sliver of skin you just pinched.

“You’re a brat,” you groan.

“And you’re being sensitive,” he bites back.

“Yah! Can we not have fights during this farewell and pre-wedding party, please?” Taehyung calls you and Jimin out as he walks closer.

“She pinched me! And I literally just asked her a question,” Jimin complains.

“What was the question?” Taehyung seems curious now.

“How they slept.”

Taehyung looks at you with wide, even more curious eyes. “Ooh, was it like this?”

He takes out his phone and shows you a picture of Jungkook with a peace sign on an airplane and then there’s… you. Sleeping on his lap. This was during the flight to Sapporo when you were so tired and sleepy. You didn’t realize there was a photo of this moment.

“Where’d you get this?” You ask.

“In the shared photo album of the trip, duh,” he answers. “Mo-eum took it and saved it there.”

“Why is it saved on your photo album?”

“Because she sent it to me right after she took it. She thought it was cute,” Taehyung shrugs. “Don’t you remember seeing this?”

“I might’ve… But like, we had hundreds of pictures. I guess I just… swiped past it,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to remember if you’d seen it and what you felt that time.

“Yeah, because you weren’t really paying attention back then,” Jimin points out. “So, answer the question.”

“I… leaned on his shoulder,” you finally say. “Just like how I do with both of you!”

“Sure, it’s totally the same,” Jimin says while rolling his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Jiminie,” you whine. “Hug me.”

“You’re such a baby,” he groans, but proceeds to hug you because he always does, and he knows it’s what you need right now. “You can also hug Kook, you know?”

“No, I’m shy.”

“When were you ever shy with affection?”

“Never, that’s why I’m hugging you instead.”

“Are you… crushing on him?” He gasps. “Like, for real?”

“Shut up. This is all your fault. You put ideas in my head.”

“Hey,” he says, pulling away to look at you. He cups your face with his hands, urging you to meet his eyes. “I asked a question that time because of the conversation we were having. I floated an idea and if it got you thinking, great. But don’t be carried away by what I said, okay? It’s about what you feel.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been paying attention, like you said,” you pout.

“And?”

“I snuggled close to him and it felt nice,” you say softly with your head bowed down, somehow shy about everything you’re revealing to your best friend.

“That’s good then,” Jimin smiles now as he tilts your chin to face him. “Maybe you’re still figuring things out or letting things progress over time or you’re making sure that it’s all genuine. And that’s fine. That’s… kinda what happens in non-whirlwind romances. Not that that’s bad but… you know what I mean.”

“I do,” you sigh. “But yeah. I don’t wanna act too differently because I don’t want him to ask me if anything’s wrong because I might blurt it all out.”

“Well, he’s gonna ask you either way with how you’re freaking out,” Jimin says, gesturing to the side when you look at him confused. “He was glancing at you looking worried. He might think something’s up.”

“Ugh. Why is he so attentive,” you whine.

“Well, someone has to be when it comes to you.”

You make a face and before you can say anything more, Yoongi disrupts the conversation and tells you to bring your things inside and dress up because your dinner is almost ready.

“Thank you, uncle,” you hum, hugging him tightly.

You hear him groaning in response because it’s Yoongi and he’ll always make that reaction before hugging you back.

“Go. The meat’s perfect when it’s just off the grill,” he says.

“Yes, uncle!” you yell before heading inside with your luggage.

But of course, Jungkook catches up to you and asks you if you’re okay.

“Yup. I just had to release my last remaining negative energy about this afternoon’s meeting to Jimin and now they’re all gone,” you lie. “I am going to just have fun these next few days and… go with the flow.”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook smiles. “So uh, they suggested getting our swimsuits on so we could go straight into the pool after. Otherwise we’d be too full to change.”

“Yeah, we should,” you hum. “Can I get in first?” You gesture towards the bathroom.

“Sure. I can dress up in the other bathroom. Want me to bring your bag up already?”

“Oh, okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You get your bathing suit and a cover up then get changed. You wash your face and tell yourself to just get it together and enjoy yourself while spending time with Jungkook and maybe that’ll make things clearer for you.

You open the door and shriek in surprise, as right outside the door is Jungkook, checking something in the cupboards… in nothing but his black swim shorts.

His taut arm is in view, and when he turns to face you with a questioning look, so are his toned chest and abs. You forget sometimes how built he is underneath all the oversized clothing and that this is literally the body you snuggled to earlier, just with clothes on.

And now that you have this little crush, everything about him is now magnified. Has he always been this… hot?

“I didn’t even scare you,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I was going to but I was worried you’ll fall back and hit your head on the floor.”

“Wow, thanks for looking after my wellbeing,” you say sarcastically.

“Of course. That’s very important,” he smiles and pats your head, which again is a normal thing he does. But when he’s half naked doing it, you suppose you don’t blame your heartbeat for racing the way it’s doing now.

You walk back outside together and you scurry towards the picnic table, forcing your spot between Hayoung and Seokjin. You decide right then that taking a break from looking at or being near Jungkook’s bare body is the better choice, at least during dinner.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t glance at the pool area where he is because you do, and he just happens to be playing with the water guns with Jimin and Taehyung. You hear his child-like laughter, which is a contrast to the way his body flexes in response to the water. It’s already giving you a whiplash.

The conversation you’re currently having is at least entertaining, so you’re able to focus on this and not on the suddenly-so-handsome half-naked man not far away.

Until, of course, Yoongi calls him over because dinner is ready, and Jungkook rushes towards where you are, quickly wipes himself dry, then takes the seat between Namjoon and Suhyeon that they offered. Right in front of you. Yoongi places a platter of grilled meat and vegetables on the table while Seokjin passes two bowls of rice.

Jungkook’s hair is quite damp and there are beads of water sliding down his very visible chest and you find yourself being hypnotized by how he looks that you don’t hear him calling your name.

“Hmm?” You finally shift your gaze to his face.

“I was calling you,” he says. “What are you even looking at?”

“You took all the meat with fat,” you frown, lying like it’s second nature.

You take some pieces from his plate and he laughs at your expression.

“What did you want?”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted beer,” he shrugs.

“Yes,” you smile. “And a bottle of soju, please.”

He nods and jogs towards the cooler then returns with exactly what you asked for. You get back to eating, feeling like you’re in heaven with how perfectly the meat is cooked. You sing your praises to Yoongi, who says his joy in life is making sure his friends are fed with good food all the time.

There’s a lot of laughter and singing to accompany your meal. Mo-eum takes you around the property when you finish, saying how much prettier it is when the sun’s out. When you feel like you’ve digested enough, you head to the pool where the rest of your friends are hanging out.

“Obligatory rock-paper-scissors match underwater!” Taehyung yells. “Loser drinks a cup of my brother’s terrible concoction. Seriously, it sucks so don’t lose.”

It takes a while before it registers that he’s talking to you and Jungkook as the latecomers. Everyone has played and five already had the drink, so both of you make your way to the pool.

You moan at the feel of the warm water and you’re glad you didn’t pass up on the night swim. With the soft music and your friends laughing about, it’s the kind of vibe that you’ve been needing, nevermind that you have to sit on the pool floor in front of Jungkook, play a game, then get smacked on the cheek every time you lose. One side is see-through, so your friends watch you from there.

You try your best to act naturally around him, so you bicker and whine like you normally do. It’s a best of seven and he’s up, 3 - 0, needing only one more win. But you score on the next game and in your excitement, you smack his face a little too hard.

You're surprised with how forceful you were, so you surface from the water and he follows after you. Your hand is still on his cheek and you’re apologizing immediately, palming the spot and asking if he’s okay. Your friends are laughing hard and you giggle while also looking apologetic.

“What did I do to you?” He wails, as he places his hand on top of yours. “I was hitting you so softly!”

“I know but I got excited!” You reason. “And your cheeks are so soft and so smackable.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he deadpans.

You laugh in response and say you’ll give up the point as punishment, making him the winner, but he insists that he can keep playing and you might even win.

You mask your giddiness over him pulling you back with his fingers with a look of competitiveness and resume the game. You score the next one but he gets a point after you, and you concede immediately. He’s always been good at this game anyway.

He follows you out of the pool and you get the cup that Taehyung hands you. You smell it and gag, but you take the penalty and take a sip. You gag even more and Jungkook asks you how it is.

“Terrible,” you wince, making him smell the cup until he’s drinking it himself.

“Oh, that’s torture,” he says. “I can drink it for you.”

“But I lost.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs.

“I drink half and you drink the rest,” you offer, and he nods in agreement.

He follows through, earning you boos from your friends who say that you didn’t fully honor the punishment, including Jimin who’s smirking at you while doing so.

You wave them off and say that you’re too tired to finish all that on your own and they let you off the hook.

“Okay, I’m eating something to get that taste off my mouth and my memory,” you groan as you walk down the stairs to go to the eating area.

You start looking around but then you hear Jungkook nearby, saying that there’s Samanco in the freezer. You follow him but stay outside because you’re dripping wet, whereas he seems to have wiped himself before coming down so he enters the house and grabs the red bean flavored fish ice cream.

“Here,” he says, tearing it open then handing it to you.

“What about you?”

“There’s only one left. They said there wasn’t enough at the store. I don’t need to eat.”

“Have a bite at least,” you offer.

“Fine,” he says, letting you feed him as you push the ice cream towards his mouth.

You watch him as he takes a bite, then you meet his eyes without meaning to do so. He briefly holds your gaze and for a moment, you get lost in it, suddenly feeling this odd mix of shyness and tension that you’ve never felt before. It’s mostly because you’re rarely shy about how you feel but more than that, you’ve never felt this around any of your friends before, and Jungkook is one of them. So this is very… new.

He moves the ice cream away and you come back to your senses. You take a few bites then offer him another one then he lets you eat the rest until it’s all finished. You don’t even realize you both have just been standing there in one corner until you hear Mo-eum yelling your names, so you quickly get back to the group and explain that you just had ice cream.

You return to the water and just soak yourself. You stay with Mo-eum and Jimin on one end, while Jungkook is with Namjoon and Taehyung as they headbang to the music on the other. The rest of your friends are either wading their feet or sitting on the lounge chairs but it’s all good fun.

Yoongi finally gets up to announce that it’s just past 12 AM and he’s gonna get some sleep, and you reminisce about that one trip you had where most of you were still swimming in the pool and it was 1 AM.

“Yeah because you drank so much and passed out at 8, then woke up at 11 PM demanding us to swim with you,” Jungkook reminds you. “Then you fell asleep on the floatie.”

Everyone laughs at the memory but you scowl at him and act angry in the midst of stories being shared about that time.

“Why are you so far from him?” Jimin whispers in your ear while gesturing towards Jungkook.

“She’s probably still getting over their alone time earlier,” Mo-eum teases, earning her a surprised look from you because she rarely calls you out.

“Seriously, both of you,” you groan as quietly as you can. “I… I’m trying to balance it out. I’m gonna lose my mind if I’m constantly exposed to that… body.”

“So what, he just needs to put clothes on then you’ll act normally?” Jimin cocks an eyebrow.

“He just needs to… I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is on me. I’m feeling and thinking things that are weird and new. I just have to get my shit together.”

“But you spent so much time together recently and it might make him wonder why you’re not calling for him or something,” Mo-eum reasons, which is something you’d also thought about.

“Yeah and if he asks, you’ll tell the truth but you might also say things prematurely,” Jimin adds.

“I actually considered to kind of distance myself from him,” you admit. “I wanted to know if I’ll miss him and stuff until I remembered we had this trip and I just had to suck it up.”

“Well, you might still miss him even while on this trip if you deliberately stay away. And then things might be even weirder,” Mo-eum says. “Don’t overthink, just feel.”

“And wouldn’t it say a lot if, without thinking too much, you actually look for him?” Jimin adds. “That’s probably a bigger tell.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll let my body do the figuring out, then.”

You disperse from your little huddle and submerge yourself in the water, as if symbolic of your decision to just let yourself be drowned in whatever you’re experiencing, in hopes that you come out of it more sure of what you really feel.

Eventually though, you all call it a night, and they let you and Jungkook go first in washing up, given the long day you’ve had.

You take the bathroom upstairs and quickly get cleaned. It’s after you’ve blow dried your hair and dressed up in pajamas that you feel the weight of today weigh you down, and you suddenly feel like you’ll pass out.

You lie in bed while Mo-eum takes a shower. Jimin is back and says that Jungkook helped clean one of the platters because it was heavy. You want to see him before you sleep just to say good night but exhaustion overtakes you, and your eyes shut before you know it.

Jungkook sighs - partly out of tiredness and partly out of regret - that he didn’t get back to your room early enough to make sure you were okay for the night. He still would’ve helped Suhyeon and Gyu-rim in cleaning up but still, he could’ve worked faster so he could return to you sooner.

He shouldn’t be wondering why it’s even a big deal for him, as he’s accepted that he wants to spend time with you as much as he can, especially during a trip like this where the vibe is exactly how he likes it. Even more, your good nights to each other have been quite sentimental to him.

He remembers that camping trip where he taught you a trick to fall asleep faster. Then in Sapporo, you talked and slept in the same room one night. He also can’t forget when you shared the same bed.

Outside of your trips, there’s the time you let him stay over, and many others after he’d dropped you off or you spent the whole day together only to separate in the evening. And so now being able to wish you good night this time makes him a little sad.

He’s back in the room that all five of you share - which is the entire second floor - and he finds you already asleep next to Mo-eum who’s on her phone. Jimin is on the other bed next to Taehyung who’s wincing in pain as he rotates his head.

“Kook, my neck hurts from headbanging earlier,” Taehyung pouts. “Can you give me a massage?”

Jungkook nods, as this is one of his roles in the group given his background, then proceeds to knead and stretch his friend’s sore areas. Taehyung moans and asks for an extension.

“Yah, do I look like a massage therapist to you?” Jungkook frowns.

“You could be. That was good,” Taehyung sleepily smiles. “Anyway, thanks. I’m gonna sleep now.”

Jungkook decides to take the floor mattress because he prefers its firmness, so Jimin stays in place and eventually falls asleep. The light from Mo-eum’s phone disappears and she mumbles her good night, leaving him as the only one still awake.

He’s exhausted but his mind won’t let him sleep just yet, even as he tries the tricks he’s taught you. He doesn’t force it and resorts to playing a mobile game under the covers instead. It’s about an hour later when he decides he’ll try falling asleep again and right when he pulls away the covers, he sees you sit up from the bed, rotating your neck and groaning.

He gives a thumbs up sign when you look his way to ask if you’re okay and you shake your head no. So he stands up, heads to you, then kneels down.

“You didn’t headbang with Tae, did you?” He chuckles.

With sleepy eyes and mussed hair, you shake your head again.

“I fell asleep in an odd position and strained my neck,” you mumble. “It hurts.”

He immediately tries to find the spot near the nape of your neck, asking where it hurts and you guide his hand until he finds it. He massages it thoroughly and he takes his time. He gauges from your reaction which areas he should focus on then instructs you to rotate your head in various directions. Your moans are low and even more pronounced given how quiet everything else is.

“Is that alright?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you respond with a smile. “I feel so much better now. And I don’t want to tire you.”

“You can let me know if it still hurts in the morning.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Without thinking much, Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering as he fights the urge to do more.

“I thought I wasn’t gonna be able to say good night to you,” you whisper. “I fell asleep right away.”

“You did,” he chuckles. “I thought the same but then you woke up.”

“I get to say it then,” you smile once more. “Good night.”

Your face is just inches away from his that his heart beats extremely fast and he likes it, he likes the thrill and the calmness from the way you make him feel.

“Good night. I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

He watches you lie back down and tuck yourself under the covers before he heads back to his mattress. A minute later, he falls asleep.

You wake up to the sound of steady breathing coming from the other bed, and you peek to see that Jimin and Taehyung are still in deep sleep. Mo-eum’s probably washed up, as the space next to you is empty, and you sit up to check how Jungkook is.

He’s sitting on the mattress, clearly having just woken up, but he turns to you to greet you good morning and ask if your neck is still hurting.

“Not as much, but it’s still a bit sore,” you mumble.

“Just do what I told you. It’ll feel better soon.”

You nod and start rotating it like he said. You check your phone. It’s 10 AM and you’ll have to leave in an hour for lunch, so you head to the sink that, oddly enough is located right outside the bathroom, and start washing your face.

You’re brushing your teeth by the time Jungkook starts walking towards you and you signal for him to give you another massage. He chuckles and stands behind you.

“You might choke,” he warns, and you wave him off and gesture for him to start.

Like you expected, he hits the spot immediately. You get so lost in how good it is that you don’t notice that you’re drooling until he tells you, so you signal that you’ll rinse. He pulls your hair in a ponytail so you could spit and once you’re done, you stand back up and let him continue.

You moan under your breath. You see him with his head turned and realize it might be a bit awkward, so you tell him that you’re all good. You turn around to face him, noting then just how close you are and when you meet his eyes, there’s that urge again to boop his nose and trace his face. You let your eyes wander to his lips for a millisecond before pinching his cheeks so hard that he winces in pain.

“You brat,” he growls, but it just causes you to laugh and run away from him.

He washes up while you change in the bathroom then you head downstairs to wait for everyone else. The sun is shining brightly but the breeze is a little cool. You think it’s perfect for what you’ll be doing today and you jiggle in anticipation once you’re complete.

Jungkook and Taehyung take a separate car with Jimin and Gyu-rim because they’ll be retrieving their rented motorcycle and Vespa before heading to the restaurant. You yell out your concern and tell them to be careful before heading to the car with Mo-eum where Seokjin and Hayoung are.

You arrive at the restaurant and eventually decide on getting some braised kimchi, hairtail fish, and a bunch of other dishes that get you excited. You’ve been looking forward to this after Jungkook said how good the food was since he’s the only one who’s eaten here before, and you truly can’t wait.

The rest of your friends arrive shortly after all the food has been served. Your attention shifts to Jungkook, who sits towards the end of the table while you’re in the middle, and your eyes briefly meet before you indulge yourself. Hayoung and Suhyeon alternately fill your plate as they often do, and moans of satisfaction quickly fill the restaurant.

The view of the ocean is as perfect as the meal and you’re truly thankful that you get to share all this with your friends. The seat next to you frees up, and you make Taehyung take it so you could hug him, as it slowly sinks in that he’s gonna be leaving in a few weeks.

“We’ll be back to video calls and you scolding me when I’m not getting rest and worrying when I’m not well because you can’t just show up at my apartment to make sure I’m taking care of myself,” you sigh.

“Nah, I won’t be too worried,” he smiles softly at you. “You’re in good hands.”

“Jimin and Mo-eum are worse than I am,” you point out.

“Kook isn’t.”

“Hmm,” is all you say, unsure if you want to openly talk about your feelings now, although you probably will before he leaves.

“You’ll be fine, ___. Just follow your heart,” he whispers.

“Have you been talking to Jimin?” You cock your eyebrow, suspicious now if they’ve been discussing things behind your back.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” he says. “You know me, I say random shit. Take it how you want.”

You groan at him for being another person who’s making you think. But he just laughs at you and leaves you to your own thoughts when Mo-eum calls him to go to the balcony because she needs some air.

The others have also gone outside except for Yoongi and Gyu-rim and you’re honestly too full to even stand up. Just then, Jungkook takes the seat next to you and asks if you’re indeed too full to even move because you usually like looking at the views.

“I can’t breathe,” you frown at him.

“Yeah, you looked like you enjoyed yourself,” he laughs.

“So did you. You ordered like, three cups of rice,” you say. “We’re still going to a cafe after this.”

“So? Coffee and dessert are separate things.”

“True,” you hum. “How’s the motorcycle by the way?”

“It’s good. It’s a similar model to what I have in Busan.”

He rides occasionally. He doesn’t have an extra parking slot in his apartment so he left the one he has at his parents’ house, which he drives around whenever he’s home.

“So it’s safe and stuff?” You ask.

“Of course it is. Jimin even rode with me on the way back here.”

“Did he enjoy it?”

“Always. I’m a very safe rider,” he assures you. “Do you want to try?”

“I’m kinda scared. I’m not good with balancing and like, being steady,” you explain.

“But that’s my job. You literally just have to sit there and hold onto me and enjoy the wind and the scenery. Sounds good, right?” He tries to convince you.

It’s very tempting, you’d admit, especially since you’ve committed to just letting yourself feel everything and enjoying a ride with him is one other way to do that.

“I’ll think about it,” you shrug.

He tells you more about riding until Hayoung says you’ll leave in 10 minutes. So you attempt to stand up to at least get a better view of the ocean on this side. Jungkook is there, pulling you by the hand while laughing at you. Your fingers linger, and you quickly let go of him before he notices a hint of desire for his touch.

He goes with you outside and while earlier, both of you couldn’t stop talking, now, it’s just quiet. You suppose he’s basking in the sights and how peaceful everything is as well, and you just feel that calmness being next to him.

And it’s… new. Not the feeling, but the fact that you could feel giddy and content right after. So you savor it a little more.

You all eventually leave and head to your next destination. It’s a nice ride to the cafe, too, and you sit on the backseat with your window rolled down, looking at the ocean.

Jungkook pulls up next to you in his ride and this is a look that gets your heart racing, too. He’s got his black helmet on and with his exposed tattooed arm, he looks pretty cool.

Your chin settles on your arm that’s by the window and you watch him. He turns to you at the stoplight and pushes his shades up.

“Be careful,” you say from inside the car.

He gives a thumbs up then extends his arm for a fist bump, which you give. It also makes you laugh. The light turns green and you’re off again. Mo-eum and Jimin laugh at you from the front but you wave them off and no longer threaten them with physical injury.

You’re accepting it, you think. It’s like getting used to this feeling, letting it embrace you, the way you’re allowing yourself to embrace all of it.

You head to a quaint cafe near the mountains. It has a homey vibe, not just because it literally is an extension of the owner’s house, but also because of the warm interiors, the shelves of old books and manuscripts, unfinished paintings… and two cats, which Jimin plays with and almost cuddles.

You take up the entire space and it gives some of you a chance to speak to the owner, a former author whose wife is an artist. You mostly listen though, especially once he talks about how life in the country and this town was several decades ago. You opt for a cup of tea to help warm your still very full belly, but you do get a taste of Jungkook’s misugaru and pretty much almost everyone’s else’s drinks because that’s how you are.

Sitting next to Hayoung, you have a good view of Jungkook from the side, and you take notice of how he smiles at certain parts of the man’s tales and when he turns serious and contemplative when the man talks about his wife.

The stories prompt you to ask your cousin how she’s feeling as she counts the days to the wedding. She sighs as if she’s still in disbelief that it’s so close. Or perhaps that she found a man like Seokjin who truly makes her feel like it’s possible to feel content and happy in this life.

“I’m marrying a man who makes me laugh, ___. A man who laughs at my jokes even if they’re not funny,” she smiles. “And I know it may sound so simple but I don’t really know what else could be better than this feeling, you know? He makes me feel good about myself. He enjoys things with me. He shows me how to be a good and happy person. And I get to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You think of your definition of simple and it used to make sense to you. You meet someone, instantly become attracted to them, find things about them you like that mirror what they like about you, be overwhelmed by the unrelenting yet unexplainable feeling towards them, then decide you want to be with them.

Looking back, nothing about it was simple. Perhaps it was just all shallow. The intensity was surface level and never really got the chance to dig its roots.

With Hayoung, simplicity is in the consistency, you think. It’s in the everyday and every second together.

You spot Seokjin looking to where you are and upon realizing that she was admiring him from afar, he gives her a flying kiss, causing you to snort.

“He’s so ridiculous, it drives me crazy,” she laughs.

“You’re perfect for each other,” you smile as you hug her tightly.

“It took a while for us to realize that but I guess that was the whole point,” she hums. “We’re as committed and as happy because it wasn’t too early nor too late.”

“So it’s really the timing huh?” You ask, recalling the conversations about relationships during that camping trip.

“It is but it’s also a choice. You both decide you want to be the right person for each other,” she says. “Regardless of who confessed first, the other person could’ve chickened out but neither of us did. We knew enough about each other that we were willing to make that move.”

“Oh, to be mature like you,” you sigh. “I can’t relate.”

“You’re honest about your feelings, ___. Not everyone is that brave nor that true to themselves. That’s maturity in my book.”

You drive out and head to the port next. The rented yacht you enter is pure luxury, and this is one of the moments where you thank the universe that you ended up being friends with a rich pair of brothers, one of whom also happens to be your future cousin-in-law.

The size is perfect for all 12 of you - not huge but cozy enough to not feel too separated from each other. There are so many areas to hang out in - the front, the back, the top, and inside. You’d forgotten what they were called and was just in perpetual shocked mode when you were being toured around. There’s lots to do, too, and you have all the time to entertain yourselves, as you’ve got this boat until past sunset.

You all gather at the lounge area while waiting to get to the snorkeling spot. You play music, drink some mocktails, and dance around. Half an hour later, you’re told that you’ve arrived, so you all move to the other end of the yacht and jump in the water.

It’s the right temperature for this afternoon. It’s cold but not freezing, and the feel of the ocean is every bit refreshing as you remember.

Yoongi and Hoseok sit on the swim platform. You stay near the boat with Suhyeon and Gyu-rim - the most cautious of the bunch, while the rest dive and explore farther out. You watch them enjoy themselves, especially Jungkook, whose laughter you can pick out even from where you are.

He removes his mask and waves at you before disappearing under the water again, only for him to end up next to you.

You shriek in surprise when he does, and you smack his chest to call him out because you thought he was a shark or something.

“Seriously?” He laughs.

“You never know,” you shrug.

“Well I’ve gone deeper and there’s none of that. Only more fish and prettier corals. Wanna see?”

You hesitate. You’re only a little bit terrified of the water; having siblings who watched Jaws all the time did that. While you know it’s safe, there’s something about the open water that’s insanely overwhelming for you because there’s so much you don’t know and much more you’ll never know. There’s a whole world down there that’s too terrifying for your human mind to comprehend and it makes you feel so small and insignificant. It’s like that cosmic horror shit that Jungkook was telling you about this one time.

But you also know that the little bit of what humans do know is pretty amazing. And just like how you are with your horror films, you suppose the fear is part of the experience, too.

“Fine, I do wanna see,” you finally reply. “I’m just a little scared.”

“Alright then. We won’t swim too deep. I’ve got you,” he says, gesturing for you to get under.

You follow him and reflexively take his hand, allowing him to guide you towards the reef that you see isn’t far away. You know your basics in swimming so it’s not hard, but just the idea that there’s all this around and all over you is what gets to you.

But with Jungkook right in front, holding you tightly, and constantly looking back to check how you’re doing, you suppose it’s not bad at all. And when you finally see what he wanted to show you, you understand that that initial fear, the immediate relief from the safety he provides, and then the beauty of what’s waiting for you is all part of the experience.

When you’ve taken it all in, you begin swimming back to the surface and don’t let go of his hand. The light from the sun penetrates the ocean and it makes the scene before you even more captivating. You emerge from the water and breathe, then smile at him for keeping his word.

“How was that?” He asks.

“Pretty,” you say. “Thank you, Kook.”

“Glad that didn’t disappoint,” he says.

You waddle back to the yacht and you’re more independent this time. You meet with the rest of your friends and just float about, enjoying the sun and the feel of the water on you.

One by one, you all head back up. Some stay by the steps, the others have begun fishing, and a few have started washing up. You announce that you’ll go back to the lounge area to get your phone and Jungkook follows because he wants to dry his shirt.

He removes it and grabs a towel that he wipes himself with. You glance at him as he dries his hair with it then wraps it around his waist, disturbing you with what you’re supposed to do.

Of course, of all times that he has to be half naked again - and during the day - is when you’re both alone and you have nothing to distract you nor keep you from ogling him.

Because now that you care, you actually pay more attention and realize that his type of ripped is exactly your type.

You’ve generalized your guy friends and said they’re all handsome. You’ve said it mostly to Hoseok before he got a girlfriend and to Seokjin because, well, he makes everyone say so. You always told Taehyung that you found him cute, but perhaps the most honest you were was when Namjoon showed up in a green sweatshirt and glasses one time and you whispered “daddy,” not realizing the words didn’t actually remain in your head. The teasing started right after that.

You’ve often passed off Jungkook as having these charming, boy-next-door traits which wasn’t really your vibe. You were always too intense for that and the men you pursued tended to match your energy and so Jungkook, even physically, felt a bit tamed or reserved to you.

But now, you can see that you were really just a silly girl. His abs aren’t too pronounced when he doesn’t flex them but even you can tell there are eight of them there. They also hold up a pair of perfectly toned pecs. His entire torso is smooth, including his back that’s divided by that deep line that lets you know just how hard he works on it.

And his arms. They don’t seem much but he’s flexed them a few times since last night and you have to pretend you need water every time to mask that you’re actually really just thirsty for them. Maybe it’s the fact that one is covered in tattoos and the other isn’t. The contrast gives you a whiplash, even more when you realize that connected to the feet that you make fun of because of his toe socks are massive thighs that could—

“___?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“My phone,” you stammer.

“You’re holding it,” Jungkook says, gesturing towards your hand that is indeed holding it.

“Right, I got it,” you reply, turning around because suddenly, it’s hard to breathe.

You were definitely ogling him last night but now, he’s half-naked with the sun out so you’re noticing everything, including his tiny waist and—

“I’m gonna go and watch them fi— ow, fuck!”

But of course, you hit your head on the side of the roof that has a sign that says “watch out” next to it. Not that you were paying attention anyway because you were, in fact, trying to get away from the man who’s been invading your thoughts in ways that are so unexpected for you.

You slowly fall on your butt and wince in pain. And who else would go to your rescue but him?

“___, it literally says there to watch out,” he chuckles as he crouches to face you. “You’re not even that tall.”

“Yah!” You smack his chest in reflex, only to feel the tingle from touching his bare skin. “It hurts.”

“Oh shit,” he says now, his face turning serious. “Is there a bump?”

You feel around the top of your head and discover something that definitely wasn’t there earlier. His hand hovers so you guide him to where you feel it.

“Yup, that’s a bump,” he sighs. “You’ve got to be careful.”

You only pout and whimper when he puts pressure on it.

He grabs a can of soda from the cooler and places it on your head. He instructs you to keep it there while he looks for a cold compress, which he does, a few minutes later after going to the cockpit and asking for it.

He sits next to you on the ledge while he holds it in place because you say your arm is getting sore. But he turns towards you now, so you also pay even more attention to his face.

His dark doe-eyes are filled with worry, and you realize they’re captivating like this just as much as when they’re painted with joy or admiration. His nose is even cuter this close, and you don’t know how to convince him that you’re sincere about your attachment to it, even more now. His eyelashes are so long and they flutter against his honeyed skin. And then his lips, they’re so pink and chapped that you just want to—

“___?” He calls your name again.

“Hmm?”

“Seriously, did being underwater and then hitting your head make you dizzy? Do you have a concussion that’s why you’re unresponsive?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not a concussion,” you say. “I’m just—”

You fake yawn to make an excuse. Only for you to actually feel sleepy right after.

“I think I need a nap.”

“Okay,” he laughs. “Get dressed then you can lie on the sofa.”

You rid yourself of your wet clothes in the bathroom. From there, you hear Jungkook inform your friends that you hit your head and Jimin yells that you can’t lose your memory because you still owe him dinner.

You get back on the lounge to cuss him out then say you’re okay but that you have a bump and now you’re sleepy.

“I hit my head there earlier,” Taehyung says.

“Why didn’t you warn people about it!” You exclaim.

He shrugs but Jimin pipes in.

“He probably didn’t think that anyone would be dumber than him.”

“Yah!” You yell, threatening to flick his forehead.

He runs away and heads back to the other side. Most of them follow, as Seokjin and Yoongi compete with each other on who can catch more fish. Suhyeon and Hoseok stay near the railing, leaving you and Jungkook semi-alone in the lounge. He at least has a shirt on this time.

You’re both sitting on the couch and you give in, grabbing a small pillow and placing it on his lap for you to rest your head on. It’s too late by the time you realize that there’s so much space elsewhere but you chose this. You chose to be this close, so you just let it go. You’d made yourself look stupid earlier already, might as well own this.

But you do peek at him and see that he’s got his head leaned back, perhaps taking a nap, too. He feels you move and he turns to you, seemingly unbothered at your obvious lack of respect for his personal space.

“You okay?” He asks, placing the cold compress on your bump once more.

“Hmm,” you nod.

“Go sleep.”

You turn to your side and savor the sight before you as you slowly drift away, the blue sky with threads of the clouds strung around making you feel at peace. Jungkook pulls your hair back so you’re more comfortable, reminding you of last night and how his fingers brushed your face.

You smile to yourself. You’re definitely owning this feeling.

You wake up to light taps on your shoulder. Jungkook tells you that you’ll miss the sunset if you keep sleeping, so you sit up and look around. Your friends have returned to this side of the boat, with some of them sitting on the other couch while the others are by the railings, enjoying the last bits of light. You see a bowl of tteokbokki on the table in front of you, and your eyes widen, as you realize right then that you’re quite hungry.

“Can you–”

“Want me to heat it?” Jungkook finishes his question first.

“Yes please,” you shyly smile, remembering that he knows you don’t like eating your food cold.

“Sure,” he says, then grabs the plate and heads inside.

“Did you sleep well?” Jimin appears out of nowhere.

“Yeah,” you hum. “I feel better now.”

“Good,” he smiles.

He walks to the lounge area with Mo-eum and they sit next to you.

“You missed out on the fun parts! Tae caught some fish,” Mo-eum excitedly says. “I told him it was probably genetic.”

You laugh. “Did any of you catch anything?”

“Nope. But Gyu-rim did. You should’ve seen Yoongi’s face, he was so proud and he was blushing,” Jimin gushes. “Kook probably would’ve caught some if someone wasn’t sleeping on his lap,” he smirks at you. “He missed out on the fun thanks to you.”

“I–” you frown. “He told me to take a nap.”

“On his lap?” Mo-eum asks.

“No but like, it was there,” you sigh. “Okay, can I just say? I completely lost it earlier. I was staring. Like, I was literally ogling him. This isn’t normal.”

“___, chill. We’re all used to you already. You literally always hug Tae’s arms and say how they’re so big. And you always call him handsome. You also called me hot before,” Jimin reminds you.

“I totally would’ve dated you for your body alone,” you remark. “But I’m not the type to do that.”

“You dated Seungho because he was hot though,” Mo-eum points out.

“Shush, that was only 92% of the reason,” you correct her.

“Back to my point,” Jimin nudges you to look at him. “You called Joon daddy one time, remember? You ogle, ___. We know that.”

“Wow, you make me sound like a perv,” you scowl.

“None of us literally care.”

“Fine. But I was all of a sudden speechless with Kook. Like, I always knew he had a nice body but I just never really bothered to look look. And now I have and he’s so hot and I’m–”

“Sorry it took a while, the microwave was being weird,” Jungkook returns to the lounge. “Got you soda, too.”

He places your meal in front of you then heads farther out the deck with the other guys.

“Shit, do you think he heard me?” You panic.

“Doubt it. But if he did, so what? Not like you don’t compliment him about his looks,” Jimin shrugs.

“I tell him his nose is cute,” you deadpan. “That’s totally different from saying he’s hot.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin shakes his head. “You just have to get used to it. This is an island trip, ___. He’s gonna be half-naked for two more days.”

“I need saving,” you sigh, prompting your two friends to laugh at your dramatic antics.

You eat your snack while they talk about what happened earlier. It’s a good distraction from your thoughts of Jungkook, even if they’re technically still there because it’s his back that you’re currently looking at. You laugh at yourself this time because you’re being silly.

Sure, it’s a bit unfamiliar to suddenly be physically attracted to him, but even more because you’re unable to express it, which is unlike how you normally are with your friends. You’re usually very open and playful about it with them but with Jungkook, you’re quite cautious. You’re worried you’ll say too much or that he’ll even feel the heat from your entire body as your natural reaction.

This is perhaps another indication of how you really feel. You’re more shy than usual, but as you look at him from where you’re seated, all you want is to bask in that shyness, too. It at least tells you that it’s not all shallow and superficial when it comes to him.

You stand from your seat and clean up. When you go back out, you see that all your friends are now on the deck, lounging on the chairs and the netted structure as the sun starts to set. Seokjin and Hayoung are being all couple-y. Yoongi and Gyu-rim are in their own world in the corner. Namjoon’s dancing to some song with his earpods on, and Jungkook and Jimin are going Titanic mode and laughing at each other.

You laugh, too, and it’s another feeling that’s new or perhaps, just more pronounced. You like seeing Jungkook be silly and enjoying himself. You like seeing him feel free. It’s something he experiences and all you can do is watch, and that makes you feel good.

Jungkook loses his breath from role playing and play-fighting with Jimin. It’s something they’ve always done as kids and they never really outgrew it. But his best friend surrenders after a while and Jungkook decides to have mercy on him.

Instinctively, he turns towards the lounge to look for you, and he finds you there, sitting on one of the chairs, smiling at him. He’d spent pretty much the entire afternoon with you - swimming, snorkeling, icing your head, and serving as your pillow yet again for your afternoon nap.

And he has nothing to complain about, especially because you held his hand while you were in the water, and you looked him in the eyes more times than he could count, and you snuggled close to him after he told you to sleep.

He gestures for you to come over and you do. You take your spot on the floor and he takes his next to you. You scoot closer and rest your head on his shoulder, just like always and he likes this. He likes how you seek him, knowingly or not, and that you find comfort in whatever he could give.

He’s unsure of what it means on your end but he doesn’t want to assume nor impose; he decides he’ll hope only a little. He’ll savor whatever this is as part of the experience. He’s hoping it’s something you’re doing, too.

Everyone is quiet during the sunset, as you all bask in the changing of the sky’s colors and how majestic it looks from where you are. You eat dinner on the boat and find that a hearty meal of pasta, pizza, and steak in the middle of the ocean is the perfect cap to what you think is a perfect day, even with the head bumping and the spacing out.

Hayoung and Seokjin say a few things, as it’s their pre-wedding trip, and you’re tearing up by the end of it. Taehyung gives a speech, too, and you all burst into laughter. It’s practice for the real deal during the wedding, he says, but you already know he’ll be crying then.

You head back to the house after and make sure to remind Jungkook to be careful during his ride. You notice that he tries to stay next to your car and gives you a smile when he sees you look at him, as if in assurance that he’s okay.

You spend the rest of the evening drinking indoors while playing games and singing karaoke. It’s later on in the night when you feel the pull of the cool breeze.

Some of your friends have tucked themselves in bed already. Jimin and Mo-eum are dancing and singing like they’re at a club. Namjoon’s passed out, and Taehyung and Hoseok look like they’re having a heart-to-heart near the hammock. Jungkook’s gone to take a shower so you head out to the pool, dip half of your legs in the water, then lie on the ground to look at the night sky.

The full moon is stunning and your only regret is that you’re a little tipsy so your glazed eyes can’t fully savor its beauty, but you try. Cozy in your hoodie and with your hands behind your head, you take a deep breath and take everything in. You don’t always get to have this time to be away and just live in the moment, but you know you’re lucky enough that you even have the opportunity to.

“___?”

You turn to the side and see Jungkook, drowning in his oversized hoodie, approaching you. You gesture to your side and he takes the spot next to you. He lies down and rests his head on his hands, too.

“Haven’t you taken a bath?” You ask.

“Yeah, and I can do it again,” he shrugs.

He takes in your sluggish state and asks if it was too loud for you inside.

“A little,” you say. “But I also needed time alone.”

At your words, Jungkook apologizes and tries to stand up, but you pull his arm and shake your head.

“And I already had it,” you say. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“You don’t need to though. You - anyone, really - are always welcome. More like, needed,” you smile. “I enjoy having you around, Kook. I don’t know if I’ve ever said that before.”

“You have, a few times. Mostly when you were drunk though. Like now,” he teases.

“I always mean it though, especially now,” you tell him, more seriously than he is.

“Well, I’ll always be,” he assures you. “You know I’m always there for you, right?”

“You are and you have been - driving me around, changing my lightbulb, shopping with me, cooking for me…” you say, somehow feeling this heaviness at the thought that maybe you haven’t done much for him the way he’s been doing things for you.

“I like doing them, the way I think you like helping me with my workplans or talking me through tough days at work or watching my students’ games to cheer for them and me,” he responds, somehow knowing that you needed to hear that, too. “And you know, making me laugh. A lot. You’re clumsy and a mess sometimes and it makes my day.”

“Why does it make your day?” You turn to him.

“Because you don’t care, and I mean that in an endearing way,” he clarifies. “You… just let yourself be who you are in front of us. That’s refreshing, you know? I think we all have our quirks and habits but we’ve spent so much time together as a group that it just feels like we’ve adjusted to each other.”

“That’s the great thing about friends, right? About people you’ve known for years? You don’t have anything to hide from them. Over time, they just learn all these things about you and just… live with it,” you say. “It just becomes a part of who they are, too, like how my being clumsy and clueless and spoiled and dramatic has just become an aspect of all of you being caring and dependable and understanding. It’s as if our qualities and parts of our personalities kind of just intertwine in that way.”

“That’s true. It’s like how romantic relationships end up being. Or should become. At least that’s what Seokjin and Hoseok tell me.”

You’re quiet for a while as you realize that yours never got to that point. It makes sense though, as they only lasted two years max but you never felt your personality intertwine with your exes in any way.

“Hmm, can’t relate,” you sigh. “Jimin and Mo-eum made me realize that there were parts of me that I didn’t really wanna show Jeong-su and Seungho.”

“Do you know why?”

“Could be dozens of reasons. Maybe it was them. Maybe it was me.”

“Maybe you just didn’t know them long enough,” Jungkook says, hoping that nothing he says is triggering for you. “I mean, it’s how it is with people and relationships. You learn about yourself the more you spend time with them and the more you do, the more of yourself you’re able to show or adjust or fit theirs.”

You hum in response, as you process what he says.

“I was kind of a selfish kid and only thought of myself and Jimin’s kindness taught me to be more thoughtful,” Jungkook continues. “I was still pretty shy when I got to college but I let out my playful side with Tae that I didn’t really know was there. And Mo-eum was so smart that I tried to keep up with her and I realized I was pretty smart, too.”

You laugh at this, as you think about how different your friends are with him and with you.

“Jimin and I always butt heads and he calls me out because he knows no one will and I need someone to,” you state. “Tae is very soft with me because he knows I’m hard on myself all the time. And Mo-eum… ever since we were kids, she just always asked me about life in general, like what career she should pursue or how she should manage all that trauma from work and still have enough of herself to give.”

“Such contrast,” Jungkook laughs. “I think it’s because you and I are so different, too, but that’s the point, right? They’re not different people. They just have sides to them that fit with others more but that’s still them. And I know comparing platonic and romantic relationships is a bit simplistic but it’s kinda the same. You spend enough time with someone and get to know them, and I mean genuinely get to know them, and you’ll figure out which ones fit.”

“It happens naturally, yeah?”

“It should. But it requires baring yourself to the other person.”

“And that requires vulnerability, too, doesn’t it?” You ask, turning to him now.

“It does. It requires honesty, too.”

You look into Jungkook’s eyes and see the moon reflecting from them with how round and dark and captivating they are. You’d think that given your topic of conversation, this is the perfect time to just confess about how differently you’re feeling about him.

But there’s still something that pulls you back, and you suppose it’s this need to be sure - not of whatever he feels for you but of what you feel for him, and what you feel about you.

You don’t want to dive into this when you’re unsure of yourself. You don’t want to doubt if you’re able to truly be vulnerable to him. You don’t want to get into anything with him when you don’t know if you like this version of you now, because you know that what he deserves is someone who likes herself enough to treat him the way he should be treated. His exes have been insecure people who took him for granted, and you don’t want a reminder of them in you.

“And that requires trust,” you add.

“It does,” he smiles, knowing that both of you are just pulling from all your experiences of failed relationships and uncertainty.

He hopes that maybe just like him, you’re trying to get to that point where you trust him and yourself enough before seeing if what you both have could be something more.

Both of you spend a few more minutes just staring at the sky before deciding to head back inside. You help your remaining friends clean up, wash themselves, and then lie in bed.

You take your place next to Mo-eum, on the side that gives you a view of Jungkook as he sleeps on the floor. You ask him if he’s comfortable and warm enough for this chilly night and he responds with a nod.

You like this side of you that seeks him, not just because you need to be taken care of, but also because you want to take care of him, too. You think that for now, that should be enough.

Jungkook flinches in his sleep, catching himself by surprise this time and prompting him to wake up. He slowly opens his eyes, already used to the light coming in with how thin the curtains are but he doesn’t mind much, not when the first thing he sees in the morning is you - cuddled with the pillow, looking peaceful as your brain rests for a while.

It was a little thing he did, moving the mattress just a tiny bit during the first night, because he saw that the curtain slit would be right across his face and the sun would be unbearable. It ended up giving him a much better morning view.

He grunts as he sits up and starts cracking his back and stretching his limbs. He sees that Taehyung and Jimin are half awake and he nods at them. Mo-eum is already up as the early-riser of the group and of course there’s you, still steadily breathing and softly snoring.

It’s a slow morning and there’s no rush to do anything. Jungkook likes this about your recent trips, which is also why you’re all able to stay up late to drink and talk and do whatever people your age are still able to do until the wee hours of the morning. Perhaps his body has adjusted as well; regardless of what time he sleeps, he doesn’t need the entire next day to recuperate.

Mo-eum gets back to the room and sits next to him.

“How was last night?” She asks with a playful smile.

“I had to carry your drunk ass to the bed, and then Jimin’s,” Jungkook shakes his head.

Maybe not a lot has changed.

“___ helped you though.”

“Yeah well, we were the only ones still in our right minds,” he laughs.

“I was still lucid when I saw you walk out to look for her,” she smirks.

“Hey, I was just making sure that she was still on the property,” he defends. “Who knows if she followed some rabbit out there and fell into a hole or something.”

“You’re getting ridiculous with your reasons,” Mo-eum rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with her, you know?”

“I’m not denying that.”

“Good. Because I think she’s been liking that. She’s always got a lot in her mind and you help ease her a bit. Like, Jimin matches her energy, Tae comforts her, I hype her up and you…” she smiles. “You seem to do that and more. Like, you become what she needs at that time.”

“I’ve always tried to be there for her and it’s the same with her,” Jungkook shrugs, not wanting to reveal too much to your best friend. “I guess at this point it’s just become easier. And nicer. I’m happy I get to be what she needs.”

“Hmm. I’m sure she is, too.”

Mo-eum’s smile is comforting. Whatever you’ve told her or haven’t, her words are enough to assure him that he’s doing right by you. He’ll just continue and savor the moments you have together, like last night by the pool where you looked him in the eyes again and he’d been tempted to just lay his feelings out to you.

But he hesitated, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for what he has to say. He’s certain about what he feels now but he doesn’t want to just spring it on you in the middle of celebrations and farewells. He’s just been basking in seeing you slowly settle into him, and perhaps that’s part of the whole experience, as you like to say.

Mo-eum ruffles his hair before going back to bed, hugging you like a baby and asking if you’re hungry because she already is. Jungkook watches as you slowly get to your senses, look around, slightly sit up, then sleepily wave at him. It’s a bit random but he waves back and laughs.

It’s not long after when the rest of you finally get up and start fixing up. You stand in front of the sink outside the bathroom to brush your teeth and just like the day before, he stands behind you as he sees you stretch your neck.

“Does it hurt again?” He asks.

“No, but a massage would be nice,” you mumble with bubbles in your mouth.

He playfully shakes his head but proceeds to press his thumbs against the nape of your neck.

“Such a princess,” he laughs.

You close your eyes at the pleasure, feeling like you could fall back to sleep with this. He eventually stops, which is perhaps good because you would’ve choked with how much you were quietly moaning, but then he lightly drags his fingers down your back. His touch pierces through your shirt and your body shivers. You don’t see his face in the mirror, but you quickly rinse your mouth to mask your smile over how it felt.

“I’ll wash up,” he says as he heads inside the bathroom.

You yell out your thanks and exhale deeply, but then Mo-eum skips next to you and wiggles her eyebrows.

“So domestic,” she teases.

“Shush,” you pout at her. “Dude’s a master at teasing, who would’ve thought.”

You get dressed, too, and it’s not long after when you’re all on your way to a restaurant for your lunch of the famed spicy braised chicken. You take the passenger seat of the car that Jimin’s driving and watch Jungkook ride his motorcycle again, who fortunately put on some sunblock after you reminded him before leaving.

With Mo-eum at the back, you all laugh as Jungkook and Taehyung dance to some music at the stoplight, busting out moves that make them look ridiculous and adorable at the same time.

You arrive at the restaurant and there’s a long table reserved for your group. You see your friends make eye signals to each other to get you and Jungkook to sit side by side, and you wanna smack them but also thank them for doing the work for you. Even if you have been making an effort to get close to him, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Which is also why you spend those moments right after you take your seat talking to Hoseok, who makes you laugh so hard that you almost fall off your chair.

But of course, Jungkook is there to make sure that doesn’t happen, as he manages to hold onto your arm before your ass hits the floor.

“Yah, are you Jimin?!” He scolds you.

“Excuse me, I’m offended,” you gasp dramatically.

“Brat. You wish you were me,” Jimin bites back.

“I wish I had your ass,” you hum.

It’s pretty amazing. You’d give him that.

“But your ass is already nice!” Mo-eum chirps. “It’s very spankable.”

Your older friends laugh, already used to the unfiltered conversations of the young ones, and none of you really care about it. You glare at your best friend, though, because Jungkook definitely did not laugh.

The conversation shifts to something else and the food finally arrives. The mild spiced dish is closer to Taehyung, so you ask Jungkook to give you a serving in your bowl. He hands it back to you filled to the brim, and he reminds you to let it cool first so the heat level isn’t too extreme for you.

You look at the dish in front of you. It looks so delicious you might actually cry. Except for the vegetables.

“I don’t like carrots,” you pout, transferring the two large chunks from your bowl to his.

“You need to eat carrots, ___,” he says sternly. “They’re good for your eyesight. It helps you see warning signs that tell you to watch out for things that might hurt you.”

You stare at the piece that he puts on your bowl.

“Yeah, a small chunk will definitely help my eyes,” you sarcastically say.

“Then a big one, then,” he counters, putting back the one you just gave him. And then another. “And one more for both eyes.”

You’re back to where you started and you scowl at him.

“You’re so annoying.”

He responds with a smirk. A smirk! One that looks teasing more than anything.

“You could always just feed her,” Jimin suggests.

You glare at him.

“What?!” He mouths, and it hits you that this might be more obvious because this type of teasing is normal, but you’re being so sensitive about it.

“I’m not a baby,” you frown.

And just as you’re about to take a spoonful, your hair flies to your mouth, causing the sauce to stick to the strands and then on your face.

You groan in frustration, prompting laughter from your friends, but you reflexively turn to Jungkook with a pout.

“Say that again?” he chuckles, as he wets the napkin and wipes the sauce off your hair.

You wipe your face, too, while he pulls your hair back so you could tie it. He looks at you with a mix of teasing and endearment, yet something about it makes your heart race.

All you can do is laugh at how ridiculous you look and he laughs along because he probably thinks so, too. He watches you take your first bite to make sure it lands then he resumes with his own dish and reminds you to eat your carrots.

You actually do cry, as even the mild spicy version of the chicken is still a little too hot for you, but you can’t stop eating. The fried rice and ramyeon are so intense yet heavenly, and nothing’s ever hurt so good and satisfied you like this.

Jungkook ends up wiping out the rest of the food. The only reason why you stayed in the restaurant as long as you did was so he could finish eating, and you have to remind him of what you’ll be doing after, prompting him to pass up on the dessert he was about to order. You take some time to walk around the area so you can digest though, and it’s not long after when you’re back on the road.

Jimin had suggested going to Active Park so you could all compete against each other on wall climbing, with the losers doing penalties tonight. As you agreed on, everyone joins, even the ones who aren’t really into things like this. That doesn’t include Jungkook though, as he excitedly skips to the receiving area like he didn’t just stuff himself with food an hour ago.

But he loves these things and this is his playground. He likes being active and on the move - a contrast to you - and experiencing the thrill. He also happens to be really good at it.

You all get briefed and get proper shoes on. He scurries inside and already chooses his first activity where he walks up high poles then free falls to the ground. Then he climbs three walls consecutively and goes mission impossible mode when he rapells down. The others start playing and you let them go first, as you secretly enjoy watching them freak out and squeal while falling.

You eventually decide to psych yourself up by climbing up the poles so you call for one of the staff to repeat the instructions. Just then, Jungkook appears next to you - you swear you saw him competing with Taehyung just a second ago - and asks if you’re ready.

“Yes, and I’m not scared of heights,” you remind him. “I’m just clumsy.”

“Please make sure you land properly. And don’t mistakenly unhook your cord.”

“I won’t,” you roll your eyes at him.

But you do call for him to look at you when you’re at the top and then ask for his praise when you get back on your feet safely.

He laughs at how excited you are and encourages you to try more. You tell him to just enjoy and do everything he wants and that you’ll be fine so he goes, competes with almost everyone, and wins it all. You follow your own pace and lose a few match-ups, but it’s loud and intense the whole time that you’re torn between trying things out for yourself and watching your friends do it.

Half of you get tired right away and choose to sit around to watch the more energetic ones as they keep going. You all cheer for Taehyung on the circular slide. You all encourage Suhyeon in the spiderman climb. And when Jimin hits his lip on the sandbag during the jump, you gather around him to ask if he’s okay.

“It’s just a cut,” he shrugs.

“Nope, you gotta ice it,” you say. “Mo-eum’s already getting one.”

“Listen to ___. She’s good at treating busted lips,” Jungkook hums.

“Of course you’d know,” Jimin smirks at him.

“We are not talking about that night,” you frown as you press the cloth-covered ice cube on your best friend’s wound.

“Why are you the one triggered when it’s Jungkook’s who got elbowed?” Yoongi asks you.

“Because she got so angry and even attempted to run after the guy who hurt Kook,” Mo-eum informs them. “You know ___ when she’s angry. It ain’t good.”

They rehash that night and you kind of block it out, not wanting to remember what those intense feelings were like. But then again, maybe that’s when this whole Jungkook thing started so maybe it isn’t all that bad.

Jungkook finally decides that he’s done and sits next to you on one of the chairs. You hand him a bottle of water and ask him if he's satisfied.

“Yup,” he heaves. “Hands are just a bit tired but they’re fine. And oh, my busted lip has healed.”

You snicker and look away.

“I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for that night, ___,” he says. “So, uh, thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever forget all the times that you stood up for me.”

“Technically, it was just one time. It would’ve been more if people weren’t stopping me,” you laugh.

“Well, there’s a reason for that, you know?” He nudges your knee. “You can actually get in trouble or get hurt. I… I don't really know how I’d be able to handle that. So don’t get yourself hurt, okay?”

“Is that why you were tailing me this whole time? You were scared I’d hurt myself?” You cock an eyebrow.

“___, you hurt yourself in your own house. Because of your couch. This place is filled with hazards.”

“Oh shush,” you laugh now. “Well, nothing happened to me. I think I’m improving.”

“No injuries today so you might just be,” he winks.

“You’d still look out for me, though?” you turn to him.

“Always,” he smiles.

You head outdoors after a bit of rest to go-kart. Just when you thought that most of you have drained all your energy from wall climbing, it turns out that driving can actually restore it, as all of you quickly choose your karts and start riding around the track. With the breeze pushing you and the fluffy clouds against the blue sky as your background, it’s actually very relaxing.

You go only a few laps. Hoseok, Seokjin, Jimin, and Taehyung race five rounds because someone is always complaining or cheating. Jungkook skids like he’s on Fast and the Furious, and Suhyeon and Hayoung are just happily going about in their lanes.

There’s that feeling of calmness when you all take your seats on the benches in the adjacent playground with your iced drinks in hand. You laugh at Namjoon constantly being stuck in the track because he was confused over which foot had to press what, and then Yoongi bumping him because he couldn’t stop earlier. You’re laughing about last night, too, and just everything that’s been happening on this trip.

As always, Jimin and Taehyung play with the horse rockers, then Jungkook joins them when they spin in the merry-go-round. Mo-eum goes with you when you scurry to the big slide. You run up the steps, squealing as you do, and then trip on one of them.

Mo-eum goes to your rescue and tries to hold in her laugh. But the thump and her constant chuckling gets your friends’ attention and as you look up, you see Jungkook incredulously looking at you.

“So… about me not having injuries today, I think you jinxed it,” you smile sweetly at him.

In Jungkook fashion, he laughs, helps you up, then puts a band-aid over the scraped skin on your shin.

He might not always be next to you, but he’ll be there whenever you need him. You think that perfectly describes these last few months of getting closer to him. You hope it’ll be like that from here on out.

Watching the sky turn dark from the property’s outdoor area is quite magical, as you’re learning now. You’d just woken up from a long nap after arriving home and you’re now on the hammock, with your hands behind your head, taking in how stunning the view is. You’re next to Mo-eum who’s doing the same, and the others have taken their spots in different areas, too.

Not long after, you put on a dress and head to a restaurant for an omakase dinner. It’s another one of those spoils from Seokjin and Hayoung and you pretty much thank them after praising the chef with every dish.

The ingredients are so fresh and they’ve been prepared so delicately. Taehyung dramatically walks around in awe and Jungkook jumps on his seat all night with how much he’s enjoying the food. It’s hard not to laugh when watching everyone react, and that includes you. You’re just as expressive as everyone is, including Yoongi and Gyu-rim who often just say the simplest things when describing their appreciation for food.

Hoseok buys a fancy bottle of sake to take home where you all finish it, alongside the other drinks you bought on the way back.

It’s a beautiful evening but you suppose that everyone’s just spent from everything you’d done today, as you all just take a seat around the fire pit and talk. The penalties will have to be be done tomorrow, you all agree.

You fall asleep on Hayoung’s shoulder in the midst of the tired laughter and end up lying on her lap. Your lower body spills over to Jimin’s lap as well, and he just chuckles and says that the princess is tired.

“Want me to help you get ready for bed?” Your cousin whispers in your ear.

You’re still a bit aware of your surroundings and could hear what she says, and you tell her it’s fine and that they should all stay while you take a nap. But you don’t know how long you’re asleep for until you feel yourself being pulled up.

“Let’s go, I’ll help you wash up,” Mo-eum says to you.

You let her guide you up until you’re lying in bed in your pajamas, ready to fall into deep sleep.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed right next to yours. Taehyung is on the floor mattress this time after lying on it to have a feel and then falling asleep right away, so Jungkook gets to have a different view of you this time.

He chuckles as he watches your breathing deepen and then steady. You must really be tired after all those activities and the amazing dinner and he wouldn’t be surprised as he’s exhausted, too.

But it felt nice spending the day like this, even if he wasn’t next to you all the time. He’d been too excited with the wall climbing but he always made sure to watch you whenever you did it. He was having so much fun during go-karting but he always looked for you on the track and smiled at you whenever he passed you by after you stopped driving.

Even during dinner, you were sandwiched between Hayoung and Namjoon so Jungkook just glanced at you to see how you found the food because he was losing his mind. And then after you all got home, he just softly watched you slowly fall asleep. You looked so cozy though, like he just wanted to hug you until he fell asleep, too, just like now, as you finally turn towards your side facing him.

You’re hugging a pillow and Jungkook laughs to himself at how much he wished that was him. It must feel nice, he thinks, to have you that close. Maybe you’d talk until someone knocks out mid-sentence like what happened in Sapporo. Maybe you’d laugh until you get tired. Maybe you could do more, just like the home he wants to cuddle in.

He shakes his head at the thoughts in his mind. He’s thinking too much and definitely too far ahead. He has that hope that you might feel the same way. After all, he’s seen you space out while looking at him, whether up close or from afar, and he knows that means your mind has travelled to so many places. He could only hope your thoughts were about him, perhaps about settling into your feelings, whatever those are.

But he’s quite a patient man when it comes to things he really, really wants. He’s holding out hope that somehow, you’re thinking and figuring things out yourself, and as long as you are, he’ll just admire you and enjoy what he gets to share with you as much as he can.

The morning comes longer than you expected, and that tells you that you probably had a really good sleep. You remember seeing the blaze from the fire pit and dozing off, then briefly washing up before crashing out again.

But the light is blaring through the blinds now and you let out a yawn. You stretch your arms and look around to find yourself alone in the room, and you check your phone to see what time it is and what everyone else is up to. It’s 9 AM and it seems that there’s takeaway breakfast downstairs.

Just then, you hear Mo-eum calling for you as she climbs up the stairs.

“Hey, you’re up!” She chirps. “You didn’t wake up even with the guys’ early alarm, huh?”

“Nope, I was passed out. But I slept so well,” you mumble. “Where’d they go?”

“To the other side of the island. Tae and Kook wanted to ride their bikes then decided to buy breakfast for everyone so they called Jimin to pick up the food,” she laughs. “Let’s go eat!”

You nod and wash up before heading downstairs with her. People have gathered at the kitchen while some are already outside, enjoying the sun and the cool morning breeze. There’s an array of breakfast wraps and sandwiches and sweet and savory pastries that it’s hard to choose. But you pick up a few and look around to try your friends’ choices, knowing they’ll let you.

You get a bite from Mo-eum and Hayoung then Jimin, then you see Jungkook going back inside to get another serving. He chooses the bacon bun and you think he sees your eyes light up, because he’s walking towards you and offering you a bite.

“Hmm, that’s good,” you smile satisfyingly.

“It is, right?” he smiles. “Is the wrap okay?”

“Yup. It’s very filling.”

“Nice. I thought you’d like that,” he hums. “Did you see the iced black sesame drink I got you?” He asks as he grabs a cup from the bag. “I told them to tell you it’s here. I thought you’d like it. But there’s hot coffee and uh, my barely touched iced americano if you want.”

“This sounds like my kind of drink,” you smile at him now, taking what he got you.

It’s delicious and you tell him so. You walk out towards the lounge chair by the pool where he follows and you ask him about where they went to earlier.

“There’s this stretch of the ocean where you can see some dolphins and Tae wanted to check them out,” Jungkook says. “So we took our bikes there around 7 and just drove around the town. He was chatting with the locals and they told us what other areas to check out. Then we got some breakfast and called Jimin.”

“Oh, that sounded fun! Where did they say to go?”

“The lesser known parks that also have the cherry blossoms in full bloom, this hill with wildflowers, a pier that has a nice view of the ocean,” he shares. “They said where we watched the dolphins is a good spot to watch the sunrise and we should go back but I said we leave tomorrow so probably the next trip.”

“We leave in the afternoon though,” you remind him. “That actually sounds nice.”

“Do you… want to ride and catch the sunrise in the morning?” he asks, testing the waters. “We could still take the car but the bike is just a different experience. It’ll be cold but they swore by it and said the fishermen love that area because of how pretty it is.”

“You’ll make sure I’ll be safe right?” You nervously ask, as the thought of riding a motorcycle with him is both a thrilling and terrifying thought for completely different reasons. “I mean, you know how dramatic I am with a stubbed toe. Imagine me injured, so I’m sure you’ll make sure that won’t happen.”

“Definitely not letting that happen,” he chuckles.

“Good! Wake me up, okay! And should, uh, should we invite the others?”

It’s a courtesy question, you think, even if you’re unsure you’re ready to be alone with him to do something that you think is quite intimate - not only in riding his bike with him but also watching something beautiful together.

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook hums.

It won’t hurt, you convince yourself, even if you hope deep down that no one will take the offer.

[to: My Elders] Kook and I are riding his bike to this spot to watch the sunrise. Anyone want to join?

It’s barely 10 seconds in when Jimin replies.

[from: jiminie pabo] nope. and i speak for everyone.

You know what he’s doing so you quickly turn to where he is by the hammock and try to glare at him but he only smiles and gives a not-so-subtle thumbs up sign. You could only hope he didn’t say anything to anyone about what you feel and that this potential alone time with Jungkook is something that you’d want to have.

[to: My Elders] K then. Just tell us if you change your mind.

You turn to Jungkook. “They said they don’t want to. Well, Jimin did but he probably asked them. Are you still good?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I’ll wake you up early then and we could get back here and still have time for a nap before we head out.”

“Sounds good,” you smile, hoping that the constant smiling isn’t giving you away too much, given that you’ve been doing that to him all trip. “Can’t wait.”

You talk a bit more about the sights he saw until your food and drinks have finished. You’re heading back to the kitchen for water when Taehyung suggests swimming in the pool before going for a ride around some areas of the island, just like what the locals had said.

Everyone agrees, except for Yoongi, and you all change into your swimsuits and take advantage of the nice weather.

You think at this point that you’re already immune to Jungkook’s bare body. You’ve seen it so many times before this trip and even just these past days, even if you technically zoned out in admiration this time.

As the universe would have it, you are actually not immune, especially when you head out to the pool and find him on his hands and knees, trying to balance himself on the watermelon floatie, with all his muscles working full-time to keep himself from falling into the water.

Your stupid mind conjures up images that you definitely should not be thinking about, and you turn away in time before he catches you staring at him again.

Mo-eum walks over to you and you both walk towards the pool to have a dip. But of course, Jimin and Taehyung cannonball into the water and start playing like the children that they are. They play with the water guns, too, and with Jungkook and their recruit, Hoseok, they run around the house and try to shoot each other as if they aren’t already wet.

The rest of you adults just chill around, content enough with the cool water and the fact that the sun doesn’t seem too much yet. It’s when the boys return that Seokjin reminds everyone of the penalties from yesterday’s game and suggests playing more games until there’s only one person left to receive the punishment. There's a handstand race, which Hoseok loses, and then there’s the chicken fight, which is a three-way match between you, Gyu-rim, and Suhyeon.

Jimin says that the men with the sturdiest shoulders should be the other half of the pairs, and with Suhyeon being paired with Namjoon and Gyu-rim calling dibs on Taehyung, that’s how you end up with Jungkook as your partner.

You try your best to not look affected even if you’re freaking out inside. You ask Jungkook instead if he’s ready to win and save your ass from drinking Seokjin’s terrible concoction.

He chuckles and says that he trained his whole life to always win at chicken fights and that he has amazing grip. While you should’ve taken that lightly, your mind goes somewhere again that you have to pinch your cheeks as a reminder to get away from that place and instead focus.

He asks if you’re ready then assists you in getting on his shoulders and he’s right, his grip on your thighs is pretty good and you just know he’s gonna be holding you steady all throughout. You practice some moves and he advises you on what to do.

“Will you hate me if I pull your hair,” you ask.

“Nope. I will if you fart, though.”

“I’ll try. Let’s hope I don’t get too excited,” you tease.

“Yah!” he exclaims, threatening to drop you in the water.

You hold onto his cheeks for support and you laugh and say he’s being dramatic.

When Seokjin calls for the start of the match, you and Jungkook get your game faces on. He told you earlier to be aggressive so that’s what you do, and he expertly maneuvers his body so you can have the right angle for a good hit. You pull his hair only a little, but he doesn’t mind, especially when Suhyeon falls first, and then Gyu-rim follows right after.

You celebrate your win with cheering and tender taps on Jungkook’s cheeks. He slowly drops you and you reflexively hug each other in joy. You feel the tingles at being so close to him, especially with your skin being in contact with his, and then your hands brushing against each other and lingering under the water.

You sit next to each other on the pool ledge as you watch the two other women play rock-paper-scissors, with Gyu-rim losing and facing Hoseok for a palm push match while standing on a floatie.

It ends up being so intense. Hoseok has crazy core strength and can balance well but Gyu-rim is playing aggressively. It’s especially funny when Yoongi gets so into the match and keeps yelling out instructions for her to follow, even going as far as taunting Hoseok, causing him to laugh and eventually lose.

Everyone explodes in laughter at the series of events. It has truly woken all of you up and you feel energized. You stay in the pool for a few more minutes before getting changed, ready for a drive around the island.

Mo-eum is on the wheel this time while you make yourself comfortable next to her. You all watch Jungkook and Taehyung enjoy themselves again on their bikes as they guide you and the other cars to a quieter part of town.

You find a stunning waterfall and then go to the hill with wildflowers, which also has a nice view of the mountains. You buy some rice cakes from a store then get some iced drinks from a cafe before heading to a park to look at all the springtime flowers in full bloom.

Much as you want to just stay next to Jungkook whenever you hang around a new place, you find yourself enjoying watching him just be. Whether he’s looking around and enjoying the view or being rowdy and playful with your friends, you’re captivated by what he does and how he is, which is totally new to you.

“Even you weren’t that endeared with your exes,” Mo-eum points out when you’re back in the car to head to a beach. “I mean, I guess I get it. They weren’t exactly charming people, no offense.”

You look at her in question, wondering what made her say it.

“You were looking at Kook with sparkly eyes,” she shrugs. “Just thought you should know in case you didn’t know.”

“I—” you stutter, clearly unaware.

“It’s fine, dude. It’s just us,” Jimin chuckles. “It’s how it is when you like someone, you know?”

“Was I not like this with my exes?” You ask them.

“Hmm, not really. You were ecstatic at the start, obviously,” Mo-eum says. “But I don’t recall you being this… soft. It might come with age, who knows? You’re probably exhausted from feeling so intensely all the time.”

You let her words settle as it turns quiet in the car, save for the blowing of the wind through the open windows. It must be tiring to experience such strong feelings all the time; you suppose that’s why you never really got to pay attention to them.

With Jungkook, you’ve been having these feelings for a few weeks now, and they’ve been ruminating, like you’re settling into them as you try to make sense of how this could happen. You suppose in your constant questioning or even disbelief, it’s allowed you to take things slow. With this trip and being around him as much as you are, you’re gradually getting used to feeling this way while not throwing yourself completely into it right away. You’re also getting used to you being like this.

You suppose that’s made you take notice of everything else about him. It’s also what’s making you look at him more softly, as if you’re getting to know him from afar.

Your thoughts are suspended for a while when you arrive at a quiet beach. It’s the perfect spot for a swim and you watch your friends put on their sunblocks and rush to the water. You’re surprised at how much energy all of you still have but it’s probably the most free you’ve all felt in a long time.

You sit on the beach towel that’s been set on the ground. You’re watching them play around while putting on your sunscreen when you hear Jungkook call your name before sitting down next to you.

“Hey,” you say. “Why aren’t you there with them yet?”

“Tae and Jimin made me put on their sunscreens then ran to the water,” he pouts. “Do I still have some on my face?”

You look at him when he turns to face you. You spread the bit that’s on his nose and chin then tell him he’s all good. He puts on his arms and you have to turn away and act unaffected when he spreads the lotion on his chest and torso. He turns to you again with his bunny-like smile and asks if you could put on his back.

“Sure,” you smile.

You do it as calmly as you can, forcing thoughts out of your mind because while this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, it’s the first time that you’re desiring him.

He asks if you’ll swim, too, and you instinctively nod so he offers to put some on your back. You nod again, not at all ready for his palms to press against your skin like this.

Of all times to wear a two-piece suit, it really had to be now and you think that you could’ve stuck to what you wore this morning. You remove your cover up dress and turn around, hoping that he won’t feel the shiver on your skin once he touches you.

But you feel it, not because the lotion is cold but because his hand is rough and gentle at the same time. He’s quiet, too, so you don’t know what’s going on in his mind and you suddenly feel tense, especially when he moves down to your waist and you jerk in surprise.

But he doesn’t say anything until he’s finished. You mumble your thanks and he faces the water once you start spreading the lotion on your arms and legs.

Mo-eum yells for both of you to come so Jungkook stands up and offers his hand for you to take, which you do. Your fingers brush against each other again and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face, until you find out that there are pebbles that line the shore which you have to cross to get to the water and you express your dismay.

“It’s just like acupuncture on your feet,” Jungkook explains.

“I don’t like them. They hurt,” you pout.

“Come on. It’s not that bad,” he says.

You still look unsure so he offers his hand again and you take it, letting him ease the pressure on your feet as you walk over. You make it, and you sigh in relief once you’re submerged in the cool water.

Your friends join you and you all just soak in the feeling of being here and wave at the others who opted to stay on the shore.

When you all collectively start getting dehydrated, you decide to head back. You groan when you reach the pebbled part of the shore again and Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Do you want to ride on my back? Do you want me to throw you to the other side or build you a bridge?” He teases.

The piggyback ride is definitely tempting but you opt for something else.

“Hold my hand again?” You ask.

He softly smiles and offers his and you gladly take it. You almost don’t want to let go but you do, hoping for another chance to do it again.

You all lay on the towels to dry up a bit before heading back on the road for a last drive to a pier before heading to a restaurant for some black pork belly for dinner.

You sit next to Jungkook, given the realization that it’s your last night and tomorrow’s your last day. When you get back to Seoul, it’s back to the daily grind and your usual schedule. You want to see him again. In fact, you want to see him more.

You could reason that you’re just doing what you’ve been doing these past months if you ask him to hang out or go with you to buy something or watch a movie in your apartment. Or you could just be honest with him and tell him how you feel, perhaps see if he feels the same way and figure out where you go from here.

The thought makes you giggle and butterflies explode in your belly thinking that he might like you, too. You don’t want to assume. It could be that he’s always been this attentive or affectionate to you and you never really paid attention because maybe, he stayed the same and you’re the one that changed.

It’s also possible that alongside you, he also changed. Or you may also just be reading too much into it and you’re completely off the mark and it may be the worst thing in the world but then maybe it isn’t. Not having him around you in any way is definitely much worse and that thought makes your heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons.

You don’t want to think of a life where he isn’t around, same as you can’t imagine the last 10 years without him. Would trying to have something more put all that in jeopardy?

But you’ve always been a risk-taker. You’ve been rejected before but you got over it and you never regretted going for something you want for fear of what you’ll lose.

Then again, Jungkook is different; he’s your friend. Losing him because he doesn’t feel the same way would be terrible for you.

But who’s to say you’ll lose him even if he doesn’t like you back? You’ll make sure you won’t and—

“Yah,” he nudges your knee. “Can your wandering mind get its ass back here? We’ve got dinner to eat. I’m cooking this pork perfectly so you better be present for it.”

You turn to him who’s teasingly laughing at you and you shake your head, knowing he’d seen your face probably express all the different thoughts and emotions you just experienced all in one minute.

“Okay, better get going and cook it to perfection then,” you say smugly.

Jungkook shows off when he’s challenged and that’s what he does. He gives a commentary of how he’s grilling the pork and even does tricks of opening the soju and beer bottles to the delight of everyone. But he’s right to boast because the meat does taste amazing. He’s rendered the fat well and it’s so juicy, everyone moans through dinner.

You all stay in the restaurant a while to make sure everyone’s sobered up before heading back to the house where you watch an outdoor movie - a sci-fi horror film that Mo-eum insisted on because she thinks she’ll be less scared with more people around.

She wasn’t right about that and you fared much better with Jungkook next to you, mostly because you were actually nervous to do something silly, like snuggle with him or hold his hand. You screamed only in one part and managed to cover your mouth in time. He teasingly laughed at you though and said he wasn’t going anywhere even if you screamed again.

There’s dancing and singing right after to get over what you just watched. There’s also definitely more alcohol. But you hold off a little, knowing you have that sunrise ride in the morning with Jungkook, which you’re really doing alone with him because everybody else passed up on it.

You see him drink less, too, and you look at each other after rejecting Namjoon’s drink offers and know you’re thinking the same.

The night still ends right before midnight though, and once you’re settled on your side of the bed and Jungkook is tucked under the covers on his, he asks you again about tomorrow.

“You sure you’re ready to wake up and brave the cold?”

“Yes. You’ll make sure I will,” you laugh.

“Okay then. See you in the morning.”

Waking you up before 5 AM isn’t as bad as Jungkook expected. You open your eyes after the fifth tap and raise your arms for him to pull so you could get off the bed. You trip on the floor mattress but thankfully don’t wake Taehyung up nor stub your toe so that’s a success in Jungkook’s books.

You insist on washing up downstairs so you don’t wake your friends up and he has to guide you down the steps because you’re still half asleep. You do your business then wait for him to do his.

You jerk in surprise when he exits the bathroom in just his joggers, and you grumbly ask him why he’s always naked. When he laughs at your question, you ask him why he’s laughing, and he just waves this off as you, speaking your mind like always.

You ask for his jacket though, since the thickest one you have is still wet and he’s got one he could lend you so he wears the thinner one so you’d feel warmer.

There are a dozen things that could’ve gone wrong with just getting you out of the door but they didn’t happen so yes, this isn't as bad as Jungkook had imagined.

You make your way to his motorcycle and he faces you to put on your helmet.

“Don’t be scared, okay? Tell me if you are then I’ll slow down,” he instructs. “But just hold tight. You know I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“Okay,” you smile softly.

He gets on the bike and you follow his instructions for getting behind him. You wear the backpack with the hot drinks inside then you wrap your arms around his waist as security.

You quickly settle in and loosen your hold around him just a little. It’s still dark everywhere so there’s not much to see so you just focus on how he feels in front of you, liking the warmth he emits and the stability he provides as he carefully drives around.

It’s not a long drive but you suppose that’s fine. You get to the viewing spot and quickly see the start of the sun’s ascent.

“Not bad, right?” He gestures to his bike. “It rides pretty smooth and it’s not too loud.”

“It was fine,” you assure him. “I didn’t feel like I was gonna fall off or anything.”

He smiles in response and helps you sit on the ledge of a wall that gives a good view of the ocean. With cups of hot tea in hand, you sit in silence as the sky starts to lighten, as if you’re witnessing the changing of the guards and it’s now the sun’s turn to watch over earth.

It’s breathtaking and you think of all the times you’d taken the sunrise for granted. It’s slow but it’s constant. It may look different, depending on where you’re watching it from, but it still happens everyday and you either go through your day without thinking about it or you stop and look at the sun and think that it did its best in showing up today.

That’s how it is with things you’ve gotten used to sometimes - you stop paying attention, and perhaps that’s when you miss out on important things.

You recall the sunrise during your hike a few months ago when Jungkook stayed back to make sure you made it to the top. You don’t even know where he was when you all sat down by the rocks to watch and perhaps that says a lot with how you looked at him then. Because you’re here alone with him now, and you already know this moment will last with you for a long time.

Maybe your friendship is like the sunrise. It will always be there, but you could watch it on top of a mountain or by the ocean or along Hangang River and the view changes. You know you changed, and now that you’ve paid attention, you want to know if this friendship could change into something more, too.

“Now that’s satisfying,” Jungkook hums as the sun settles above the water now.

“Thanks for telling me about this place and bringing me here, Kook,” you turn to face him. “It’s uh, it’s something I’ll always remember.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he responds.

You don’t know if it’s the sincerity in his eyes or it’s just you being caught up in the moment, but you glance at his lips and think for a millisecond that crashing yours against his is a good idea.

His phone alarm ringing fortunately knocks some sense into you and you turn away in time for you to not do anything abrupt and maybe unwelcome. He remarks that he forgot to set it off for this time and you nod, internally thankful that he did.

It’s at that moment when you hear sounds from the water and see that dolphins have come to swim on this part of the ocean. You’re so surprised and excited that you reflexively hold his hand but he doesn’t seem put off and he lets it stay there.

You don’t mind at this point. All you know is that it feels right and you want to feel it again.

The moment ends and you look at each other in awe at being able to experience something so wholesome and beautiful together. You suppose it’s too much for words, as you get back on the bike and ride around town with not many words.

It’s a longer trip this time, as he says that he’ll take the other route so there’s more of the town to see, and you don’t mind at all. You’d like to hold him like this as long as possible.

You make it back to the house and take a nap until everyone else wakes up. You pack your bags and load them in the trunk before you head out for some stir fried pork lunch. Jungkook and Taehyung follow after returning their bikes and you watch Jungkook from afar, beefing with Jimin about the sausage and then finishing more portions than he said he’d have.

You drive to the airport and don’t wait long before you board the plane. You sit next to Jungkook again and you lean on each other just like the flight coming here. But you suppose something’s really changed now, as you comfortably snuggle closer and think that you want to keep doing this, maybe hold hands, too. Perhaps share a kiss?

It’s all too much and probably too soon but you’ll care about all that later on. You want to bask in the possibilities first; the thoughts of consequences will come soon after you separate from him.

And it does, after you hang out at Jungkook’s place with Taehyung, Jimin, and Mo-eum and then he drops you off at yours.

“So, Tae invited himself and you guys to my apartment on Saturday,” you say when you open your door and he rolls your luggage inside your home. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course,” he smiles.

“I’ll return your hoodie all fresh and washed then!”

“No problem. You take care, yeah? Hopefully the trip gave you a bit of energy for the week.”

“It did. It gave me a lot actually. You, too,” you smile back.

“Same,” he nods. “I’ll head out and see you, yeah?”

“Good night, Kook!” You yell out.

“Good night!”

You lie on your couch once you close the door and take in his scent on his hoodie that you don’t want to remove just yet. You already can’t wait to see him again. You also know you’re gonna have to find a way to deal with all this and you’ll have to do it without losing him in the process.

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