dontcallmeelle

[dontcallmeelle]

ROULETTE JEONJUNGKOOK

INSPIRED BY KAKERUGUI! (TWO)

18+

Pairings: Kakerugui Student!Jungkook x Student!OC

Themes: Obsession, high-stakes gambling, manipulation, power dynamics, psychological warfare, lust vs. control, dominance and submission

Genre: Dark romance, psychological thriller, drama

Warnings: Dubious consent, Power imbalance, Manipulation and coercion, Yandere behavior, Gambling addiction themes, SMUT / explicit sexual content, Emotional blackmail, Violence or threats (minor or implied, depending on tone)

“INTRO: You were the undefeated queen of the tables—calm, cunning, and untouchable. That was before Jeon Jungkook transferred in, smiling like sin and playing like the devil.”

__________________

You didn’t expect it.

The first morning, it was just a cup of coffee — black, no sugar, your preferred brand. Balanced perfectly on top of your locker like it had floated there by fate.

The second morning, it came with a note: You looked tired yesterday. Don’t burn out before I get the chance to beat you. – J

By the third, you didn’t need the label. The moment you tasted it — bold and bitter and correct — you knew.

Jeon Jungkook.

_________

The coffee was waiting again.

Balanced neatly atop your locker, same brand, same roast — dark and hot, just how you liked it. This time, though, the cup wasn’t alone.

Jeon Jungkook was leaning casually against the lockers beside it, arms crossed, blazer pristine, and a knowing smile playing at his lips like he’d been waiting for hours. Maybe he had. That was the thing about him — he always made it look easy, like timing wasn’t a factor, like he moved through the world on his own clock.

You stared at the cup, then at him. “You know this is getting weird.”

He didn’t flinch. “I know your first period’s brutal. Thought you might need a head start.”

You picked up the cup slowly, feeling the warmth seep into your fingers.

“…How do you know my schedule?”

Jungkook tilted his head. “You’re not exactly hard to watch.”

You gave him a look. “Comforting.”

He only grinned wider. “Is it working?”

You took a sip. Of course it was perfect. Of course.

He fell into step beside you as you started walking. The halls were already buzzing — whispers of the match from earlier that week still thick in the air. Jungkook’s name passed between students like a rumor with teeth.

Minwoo. Humiliated. Housepet in one round.

It hadn’t shocked you. Minwoo was careless and entitled. A walking target.

“You’ve been popular lately,” you said, sipping again.

He hummed. “You mean infamous.”

“You beat a legacy student with a single game.”

“I accepted a fair challenge.”

You scoffed lightly. “You accepted a cocky rich boy who assumed you were too shiny to be dangerous.”

“Was he wrong?”

“No. But you weren’t the surprise. His ego was.”

Jungkook chuckled under his breath, tone playful. “Aren’t we all rich boys here?”

You stopped at the end of the hallway and turned to face him fully, one brow raised.

“Not all of us.”

His expression faltered for a second. “Hm?”

You smiled faintly, letting your voice drop. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. With how closely you’ve been watching me.”

He blinked, and you saw it then — the flicker of something sharper behind his eyes. Not surprise. Something hungrier.

“I came here on a scholarship.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“…Wow,” he said, softly. Almost reverently. His smile returned, but it was quieter now. Deeper.

You shrugged, sipping again. “Not all of us were born into it. I had to earn my seat.”

“That’s why,” he murmured.

“Why what?”

He looked at you, gaze steady. “Why no one can touch you.”

You tilted your head.

“You had to fight for every inch,” he said. “And they can’t stand that you still won.”

You didn’t respond.

“Money can buy a spot,” he added, “but not respect.”

He paused, then smiled — not fake this time. Not charming.

Something real.

“I think I like you more now.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And how much did you like me before that?”

“A lot,” he said. “I liked watching you win. ”

“And now?”

“Now I want to see what you look like losing.”

You smiled, slow and dangerous. “Keep dreaming, Jeon.”

He stepped closer, close enough that his voice dropped low, meant only for you.

“I will. Every night.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving the scent of coffee and something far more dangerous in his wake.

______________

The library was colder than usual that morning.

Light filtered in through the tall windows, still grey with early dawn, casting long shadows across the marble floor. It was quiet—almost too quiet. The kind of silence that rang in your ears when you were thinking too hard, too fast.

You didn’t usually come this early.

But today wasn’t usual.

Your fingers skimmed over the spines of aged yearbooks and thick manila files. Everything was organized by decade, and even though the school bragged about being modern, its archives were anything but. It took time. Attention. Patience. Things you had learned to weaponize in other ways. Things that, for once, had nothing to do with bluffing or betting or reading an opponent’s pulse

You leaned over the counter in the back alcove of the archive section and flipped open the next folder, narrowing your eyes at the faded ink.

Then

“You’re up early.”

Your spine straightened fast.

You turned sharply, heart thudding, and saw him.

Jungkook.

Leaning against the edge of the nearest bookshelf like he’d been there for hours, hands in his blazer pockets, tie slightly loosened, eyes all amusement and quiet calculation.

You hadn’t heard a single footstep.

“Ever think of not sneaking up on people?” you muttered, closing the file casually.

He shrugged. “Didn’t mean to. You just didn’t notice me.”

“That’s because I didn’t expect to be followed.”

“I wasn’t following you,” he said, stepping closer. “I come here sometimes.”

You gave him a flat look. “To read?”

“To see what people are reading.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to rearranging the folder like it was nothing. “Well, now you’ve seen it. So you can go.”

But he didn’t.

His gaze flicked down to the documents you were tucking away.

“You digging for dirt on someone?” he asked lightly. “Looking for a scandal? A secret past?”

You didn’t answer.

“Or maybe,” he said, “you’re researching your next opponent.

Still nothing.

Jungkook tilted his head and stepped a little closer. “Come on. Give me a hint.”

You looked up at him, eyes sharp. “Maybe I just like the smell of paper.”

He smiled, slow and boyish. “You know, you’d make a terrible liar if I hadn’t already seen you bluff with a straight flush.”

“I’m not lying.”

“No, but you’re definitely not telling the truth.”

You clicked the folder closed. “Do you always talk this much before first period?”

He leaned one arm against the shelf beside your head, just slightly crowding your space. “Only when I’m interested.”

You slammed a yearbook shut and leveled a glare at him. “Maybe you should mind your own business.”

But he only smiled wider. “Now I really want to know.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He wasn’t teasing anymore. Not in the usual way. There was something else in his expression now—something sharper. Like the gears in his head were spinning too fast to catch. Like he had already filed this moment away to be dissected later, in private.

“What are you looking for?” he asked again, voice lower.

You stared at him, deadpan.

“Not you.”

He chuckled, but his eyes stayed fixed on the folders beside your elbow. “You know, I could help.”

“With what?”

“Whatever it is you’re digging for.”

You snorted. “Right. Because Jeon Jungkook—the boy who bets for sport and stalks girls with lattes—wants to help me with research?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “I’m good with secrets.”

You slammed the cabinet closed. “I’m not.”

You moved to pass him, but he stepped just slightly in your path, and for the first time in weeks, he looked serious.

“I think you came to this school for more than just the games,” he said.

You stopped.

His gaze searched yours, expression unreadable.

“Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart kicked once.

You pushed past him without another word, but you didn’t deny it.

And that silence — that silence — was what told him he was right.

You didn’t move, but you met his gaze evenly.

But this time, he didn’t smile either.

He just watched you go, eyes narrowed in thought, like he was filing you under something new. Not just a challenge. Not just a pretty face or a name to beat. But a puzzle. A mystery.

And you didn’t look back.

_________________

Jeon Jungkook never liked unanswered questions.

He was born into a world that handed him everything—prestige, wealth, reputation. But those things meant nothing without control. And control meant understanding. Anticipating. Reading between silences until even the quiet confessed.

So when you denied him—twice, and then rummaged through the library archives like a stray dog looking for scraps—he didn’t get angry.

He got curious.

He started small.

A lunch table here. A hallway conversation there. Students loved to talk, especially when the new boy—tall, charming, devastatingly pretty—tilted his head and asked questions like, “What’s she like when she’s not playing?”

They told him you were aloof. That you kept to yourself. That even the council tread lightly around you, as if your presence alone reminded them they could bleed

“She once beat three seniors in one round,” a girl whispered, like she was describing a myth.

“She never goes to school parties.”

“I heard she turned down a council offer last semester,” said another, wide-eyed. “Who does that?”

It amused him, how they spoke of you like a shadow. Something powerful and distant. But it wasn’t enough. Rumors were noise, and Jungkook preferred symphonies.

So he watched.

From across classrooms. From stairwells. From between the slats of carefully placed chess matches.

You rolled your pencil between your fingers when you were thinking. You always triple-knocked your pen against your notebook before a test. You wore your hair differently depending on how high the stakes were—loose when you didn’t care, tightly knotted when you did.

You had no best friend. No clique. You didn’t flirt. You didn’t joke. And yet—everyone noticed you.

So did he.

Every movement you made was calibrated. Practiced. It wasn’t just that you were good at gambling—you were built for it.

And that was when Jungkook’s curiosity became fixation.

Because no one was just born like that.

Which meant you were hiding something.

That’s when he started pulling strings.

The Jeon family had connections—money, sure, but power too. Real, institutional power. It only took a soft call to a family friend on the school board to get access to your student file.

Most of it was clean. Full scholarship. Top percentile. Model behavior. But buried halfway down the page was a red-marked incident: “Internal Flag — Term 2. Confidential. No disciplinary action taken.”

Interesting.

He made another call.

Two hours later, a scanned document arrived in his inbox. And then he understood.

The file was heavily redacted, but the names that weren’t blacked out told him everything he needed.

Dr. Yun-Soo Kim.

Hybe Institute.

Withdrawn Player Record.

It wasn’t just your story.

It was your mother’s.

She’d been a top-ranked gambler, just like you. Her name had been erased from nearly all public records. No graduation photos. No alumni page. No official matches logged.

But she had played here.

And according to the flagged report, she’d faced off against Dr. Kim—one of the school’s most brutal instructors at the time. A man known for manipulating odds, forcing forfeits, and using psychological tactics that bordered on abuse.

And then, she disappeared.

No trail. No transfer. Just… vanished.

Until now.

And Jungkook—he smiled to himself, letting the file print slowly beside him.

He finally understood.

You weren’t here for rank. You weren’t here for power.

You were here to find out what happened to your mother.

You were playing a long game.

Which meant you could be beaten.

Not by odds.

But by answers.

—

Later that week, Jungkook wandered into the upper library wing—less to read, more to think. The room was quiet, paneled in dark wood and perfumed with old paper and lavender-scented wax. He liked the quiet. It helped him plan.

He sat down with a blank notebook and began to write.

Her mother’s game history: inaccessible.

Her ties to current faculty: unknown.

Emotional trigger: Dr. Kim.

Motivator: Truth.

He tapped his pen once, twice, three times.

Then he flipped open his phone and texted someone from the donor committee.

“Can you pull Dr. Kim’s retirement statement from the archives? Off-record.”

A response came back almost instantly.

“Already on it. Strange request, though.”

Jungkook didn’t reply.

He was smiling too hard.

He had the bait now.

Not tokens. Not favors. Not cash.

Something real.

And he could already imagine the look on your face when he handed it to you. Not with threat. Not with violence.

But with precision.

—

That night, one of the younger boys—Minjae—caught him sitting alone in the observatory, poker chip sliding between his fingers in lazy rhythm.

“So I’m guess Y/N still hasn’t agreed to play you?” Minjae asked, cautiously.

Jungkook didn’t look up.

“She will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

The chip clicked against his ring.

“She’s not afraid of losing,” he said. “She’s afraid of not knowing.”

Minjae frowned. “Knowing what?”

Jungkook finally looked up. His eyes glinted in the silver moonlight.

“Everything.”

_________________

It wasn’t the match itself that drew the crowd. Not really.

It was him.

Jeon Jungkook.

The boy who crushed Minwoo — Hybe’s most arrogant gambler — in a single sitting and walked away with his tokens, his dignity, and his rank.

Word spread fast after that.

Not just that he won, but how he won: smiling, relaxed, letting Minwoo build his own coffin before gently closing the lid with a royal flush and a gentle, “Good game.”

So today’s match wasn’t important.

Not to anyone but the girl sitting across from him — a third-year trying to climb the ladder fast. She thought she’d earn a name just by surviving him.

She was wrong.

You stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed loosely over your chest. Watching

Not him. Not directly.

But the way he moved.

He was too smooth now. Too confident. His boyish act had faded ever so slightly after the Minwoo game — like someone peeling back the first layer of a trick mirror.

The match dragged.

She stalled. He played along.

It was nothing special… until the fourth round.

With a blush, she nervously tells him that she really can’t read him at all. His bluffs never give a tell.

That’s when he said it.

“Some people learn to bluff before they learn to lie. Especially if they’re raised around games.”

The table froze.

He didn’t look at you. Not once.

But your eyes snapped to his face anyway.

He smiled absently at the girl across from him, like the words meant nothing.

“They say risk is inherited,” he said lightly, laying down a winning draw. “Runs in the family. You either crave it… or you drown in it.”

But you knew better.

He wasn’t talking to her.

And he sure as hell wasn’t talking about Minwoo.

You.

He was talking about you.

You stiffened.

And that’s when you realized something bone-deep and cold:

He hadn’t just beaten Minwoo to prove himself.

He’d done it to climb high enough to get your attention.

To become visible.

To stand beside you — not as a rival, but as a mirror.

The match ended fast after that.

He didn’t drag it out.

He didn’t need to.

He’d already won the round that mattered.

As he passed you in the crowd on his way out, he didn’t stop.

But his shoulder brushed yours — soft, intentional.

And you heard him murmur low and amused under his breath, just loud enough for only you:

“Your turn, sweetheart.”

————————

Your locker opened with the usual low clink.

Nothing new. Nothing unusual. Until today.

Inside, tucked between your books, was a heavy envelope. Black. Wax-sealed. Clean.

But it wasn’t the seal that stopped you cold.

It was the photograph.

You recognized it instantly.

Your mother—eighteen, sharp-eyed, wearing Hybe’s old uniform. She stood beneath the school’s main archway, crest shining on her blazer, a deck of cards in one hand and something electric behind her smile. A smile that never made it into family albums.

She’d gone here. Everyone thought she left early for health reasons.

But that was a lie.

And you’d known it for years.

She hadn’t just attended Hybe.

She’d ruled it.

And then, suddenly—disappeared.

No one talked about it. Not teachers. Not faculty. Not her old classmates.

You’d gotten yourself into Hybe the same way she did—through top scores and an iron spine. You took to gambling like it was instinct. Cold reads, body language, pattern recognition. It was already in your blood.

But the photo… the photo changed things.

Because this time, someone else had it.

And on the back, in crisp red ink:

“She was top-ranked, too. Let’s see if legacy runs in the blood.”

Underneath: Room 7C. 4:00 p.m. Today.

—

Room 7C was all velvet and shadow. The kind of space used for backroom wagers and council dealings. Ten chairs circled a heavy black table. Nine were full.

Only one seat remained open.

And he was sitting at the head.

Jeon Jungkook.

You spotted him immediately—like the room bent around him. He looked clean, polished, every inch of him intentional. School uniform crisp. Tie loose. One arm draped over the back of his chair like he’d been born there.

He was drinking tea.

He didn’t look up right away.

He didn’t need to.

He already knew you’d come.

When he finally met your eyes, he smiled slowly, like the truth was just beneath his skin.

“I was hoping you’d accept,” he said, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

You didn’t sit.

“You found her photo,” you said. “Cute.”

His gaze flickered with curiosity.

“She was better at poker,” you continued. “I took to games of chance instead. Always liked the risk.”

He didn’t blink.

He smiled again, wider this time. “Then we’re not so different.”

You gave him a look. “I gamble to get answers. You gamble for attention.”

He held a hand to his chest mockingly. “Ouch.”

“And Room 7C? Seriously? You think drama makes it more exciting?”

“No,” he said. “You do.”

You should have left.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you stepped forward and looked at the other players. Nobodies. Background pieces. The kind of warm bodies schools like this used to keep a narrative going.

And then, your eyes landed on the file beside his elbow.

Thicker than it needed to be. Sealed. A tab marked with your mother’s name.

Your fingers twitched.

“What’s the game?”

“Blind Loyalty,” he said. “Two rounds.”

“And what’s the wager?”

He nudged the file toward you.

“You win,” he said, “it’s yours.”

“And if I lose?”

He leaned in just slightly. Still smiling. Still soft.

“I want you all in. If you lose, I’ll hold onto this little file. And you’ll have to earn it another way.”

“—Oh, and naturally you’d become my housepet. You’d be mine.” He adds after a moment. His smile turning into something more wicked.

“You could just give it to me,” you said.

“I could,” he agreed. “But what fun would that be?”

You held his stare.

“I feel like I have more to lose. What high stakes are you betting?” Your eyes narrowed.

“Fine,” He sighed. “playing fair hmm?” He stepped slightly closer to you.

“How about if I lose, you take the file, and I’ll leave you alone. Transfer, if I have to.”

This wasn’t about the file. It wasn’t even about your mother.

It was about you.

He wanted to see what you would do. How far you’d go. How much of your pride you’d bleed out to get what you came for.

You hated him

But more than that—

You hated how well he played.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one who didn’t ask for power,” Jungkook said. “You earned it. You’re sharp. Cautious. Calculating. You read people like they’re open books.”

He leaned in, eyes gleaming.

“I want to see if you can read me.”

The silence stretched.

And again, you should’ve walked away.

But that photo burned in your pocket.

And the truth was—deep down—you needed to know.

You pulled out the empty chair. Sat down slowly.

Like the game had already started.

His smile didn’t move.

But something in his eyes gleamed.

Like checkmate was already in motion.

_______________

The game was called Blind Loyalty.

A hybrid of poker and Russian roulette, twisted through Hybe Academy’s signature cruelty. Each player was dealt one hidden card. No trades. No redraws. You could either bet on your card’s unseen strength… or fold.

But folding came with a price.

If you folded, you forfeited not just the game—but yourself. You became a “follower” of the round’s winner for one academic cycle. Housepet status. Collared. Debts enforced. Autonomy gone.

It wasn’t about money.

It was about submission.

Most students folded early. Even some of the veterans.

But not you.

And not him.

By round three, the velvet room had cleared out, save for the two of you and a couple of Council-appointed onlookers, their eyes gleaming behind ornate masks.

You sat still, unmoved, your card face-down in front of you.

Across the table, Jungkook flipped a silver coin over his knuckles like he had all the time in the world. His blazer was buttoned, his smile charming, but his eyes—

His eyes looked like they could eat you alive.

“I should warn you,” he said softly, coin catching the light, “I don’t bluff.”

“Good,” you murmured, without breaking eye contact. “I don’t fold.”

He let out a short, delighted laugh. “You’re so fun.”

Then, from inside his jacket, he pulled out a sealed black envelope and laid it gently atop the center pile.

“My card is in there,” he said, tapping the envelope. “If you win, you can open it. If I win…”

He leaned in just slightly, voice lowering.

“You know what happens.”

You already knew the stakes. You’d known before you stepped into the room. The whispers in the hall. The silver glint of the Council’s collars. The record of his game with Minwoo still echoing through the campus.

But this wasn’t about climbing the ladder anymore.

This was about you.

He’d crafted this entire setup just to corner you—just to make refusal impossible.

You swallowed hard but didn’t move.

Backing down now would stain everything you’d built. Your title. Your mystery. Your mother’s shadow. The truth you’d come to dig up from the school’s twisted roots.

So you stayed.

You bet.

.

.

.

.

.

.

And you lost.

The room exhaled as Jungkook finally peeled open the envelope. Inside: the Joker. The only unbeatable card in the deck.

You stared.

That’s impossible.

Your card—an Ace—was strong. Statistically unbeatable. Statistically.

But somehow, you should have known. Of course he’d rigged it. Or timed it. Or charmed his way into the perfect hand. You didn’t know which. But what mattered was that he’d known he would win.

He always knew.

Jungkook stood slowly and walked around the table.

You didn’t look at him.

But he knelt, silently, and placed something on the table beside your hand.

You glanced down.

A black ribbon collar.

Thin. Subtle. Embroidered with silver thread. Your student ID already engraved on the tag.

Your breath caught.

“You don’t have to wear it now,” he murmured near your ear. “But you will.”

Your fingers curled into fists on the felt tabletop. “This school rewards performance,” you said flatly. “One loss doesn’t rewrite a legacy.”

Jungkook smiled. “It doesn’t have to. Your legacy is intact.”

He brushed his knuckles gently across the back of your hand.

“You’re still the best.”

A pause.

“You just belong to me now.”

You jerked your hand away.

But he wasn’t angry. He only stood, composed, sliding his gloves back on. The Council witnesses began scribbling final notes into their leather-bound ledgers.

He stepped back, letting the Council come forward to finalize the outcome.

Your housepet status would be recorded by morning. Your name would drop from the top of the independent ranking board.

Jungkook turned back to you one last time before leaving the room.

“I don’t need to win every game,” he said, as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

“Just the one that matters.”

And the door clicked shut behind him.

Leaving you alone.

With the collar.

And the Joker.

————

taglist : @hkplushier

[dontcallmeelle]

[dontcallmeelle]

HIS SMILE!

[dontcallmeelle]

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 17/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: Hello my dear Army 💜 I really hope you are all healthy and feeling well 🙏🏻 So here's a new chapter for you 🥳 I have to be honest with you, first of all I'm very nervous that you liked this chapter, because it is full of events, (I have never written anything longer in my life, this chapter turned out to be 16,200+ words) and those who read to the end will be surprised, very surprised 🤭 Oh how I am excited 😬🥺 And secondly, It was very hard for me to write this chapter, because of the emotions I had to experience while writing it (I don't seem to be a very sensitive girl, but for some reason it happened to me 😅) so maybe the text may be oversaturated, or vice versa I poured a lot of water 😆 Anyway, leave me a small comment that I know how I did, do you like how l managed with the development of events and description of scenes! You know this is super important to me!!! 🥹🥰😘 By the way, there is a mention of vegetarians here. It's nothing special, it's just that my heroine is not a vegetarian, and if someone can be offended by my little dialog, I apologize immediately! I never want to offend anyone with my works!!! If you are a vegetarian and you are offended by that dialogue, just let it go by, or just don't read any further 🥺🥰 I sincerely love all my readers who quietly like, reblog, and those who comment 💗💜 You are my desire to write further ❤️‍🔥 Enjoy ✨

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @someoneelse0109, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @someoneelse0109, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse , @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17, @kooklovee, @theycallmebaepsaee (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 17. Fate, which destined

You don't remember how you got home. You walked through the crowd, ignoring the surprised looks of passers-by. Tears were in your eyes, and it was getting harder and harder to take one breath. Your legs carried you on autopilot. The pain in your chest never stopped, reminding you how much it hurt to lose everything in an instant.

The apartment door slammed behind you as you stepped inside. Trembling with rage, you kicked off your shoes, tossed your purse to the side, and slowly settled to the floor against the wall. Your chest felt empty and angry. It seemed like someone had put a sandbag on you: it was hard to even breathe. Your eyes were burning, swollen with tears that never stopped flowing. They were hot, burning your cheeks, but they did not wash away the inner pain.

The job you worked so hard for, your project... your chance... And everything is ruined. It all happened because of him. Because of Jungkook. Because of his selfishness and his own self-interest. You gave up so much time, effort, hope, and you were just thrown away like trash.

You barely got up and sat on the couch. You looked at one point, as if there was a sense there. But there was nothing in your head. Even the tears stopped, leaving only hot traces. You didn't want to move. You didn't want to think either. All you felt was unbearable pain that burned from the inside.

Some time passed, but you continued to sit and not move. There was a knock at the door, and you looked at it indifferently. The knock came again. And again, and again. You knew it was him, but you didn't care about him. To hell with Jungkook. To hell his deal, his promises, his entire existence.

You heard another hard knock on the door, and then his muffled voice.

"Open the door! I know you're in there!"

You were silent. Tears rolled down your face in a new wave, blurring the focus in your eyes.

"Y/N, open up! Please!" his voice became softer, almost pleading, "Let's talk... you're angry with me, but I'm asking you to listen to me."

You stood up from the couch and walked to the door on weak feet. Your eyebrows were drawn together, he couldn't see your angry expression, but you could have burned the door with that look.

"Get out!" you shouted, "I don't want to see you anymore! The deal is over! Do you hear me? IT'S OVER!"

Jungkook punched the door and you yelped.

"Open the door, damn it!" he bellowed. "Just... let's talk!"

"No!" you said firmly, "It's over! I don't want to talk to you! Just get out! Get out of my life!" you walked over and slammed your palm on the door too, wishing it was Jungkook, "I hate you! You ruined everything!"

You leaned back against the door and slid down, sobbing hard again. Jungkook was silent. He didn't hit the door anymore, and it even seemed as if he had left. But you heard his voice, calm, firm.

"I'm not leaving! I'll be here, until you open the damn door for me. I want to solve everything normally. No tantrums. No yelling. Just talk......" you heard a light knock - he sat down on the other side of the door. Right behind of you.

You cried even harder. Why can't he just leave? Why won't he let you go?

"I'll sit here," you heard behind the door, "You'll come out sooner or later. A day, two days, a week, I'm not going anywhere."

You closed your eyes. What do you need do? How do you get rid of him? Should you open the door and talk to him? Maybe then he will leave you alone?

But you don't want to see him. It will be painful for you to look at the face that was your lifeline, but now it will remind you that you have lost everything. But it looks like you need to get over yourself so that this can finally be over.

You slowly stood up. You touched the lock and opened it slowly. The door opened and you saw him. Jungkook was standing. Obviously he had gotten up when he heard you opening the door.

His eyes looked at you with undisguised pain. You looked at him angrily, almost hatefully.

Jungkook held his breath as he saw your red eyes, your mascara running, and your hateful gaze.

"Leave me alone. Just disappear. I don't need your excuses or any other words," you said colorlessly. Jungkook stood there, frozen. His heart was sinking when hearing your exhausted voice. He took a step forward and wrapped you in his arms. You walked a few steps away together and Jungkook stopped, holding you tightly.

You didn't have the strength to resist him. You just stood there with your arms down. Your lips touched his shoulder and you smelled his scent, the one you loved so much, the one that used to make you tremble inside, and now was tearing you apart.

You stood in an embrace for a long time and quietly. You could hear his heart pounding and knew that he could hear yours flying out.

"Let go," you whispered. Jungkook squeezed you tighter, letting you know he wouldn't.

"It's my fault," he said desperately, pressing his forehead against the spot between your neck and shoulder, "Everything that happened is because of me. So please let me make it right. I'll get you your place back in the company and make Kang Youngwon pay for what he did."

You exhaled, devastated, empty, languid, right into his shoulder.

"I've heard your promises before, they're worthless," you said without hiding your disappointment. Jungkook froze for a moment, and then leaned away from your shoulder and looked into your eyes, not letting go you from his embrace.

"I didn't know that this bastard would fired you. I thought we had time to work things out."

You smiled crookedly.

"No one knew, I didn't know I was fired either. And I wonder how much more I wouldn't have known if you hadn't wanted to wire me the money for your fucking agreement?" you shoved him away and moved away, not even paying attention to the open door. "Jungkook it’s over. Do you hear me? I don't want to talk to you anymore. Our agreement is off. You can go to hell, I don't need your help. I'm going to start from scratch. And I'm going to do it the way I always do - alone."

Jungkook wanted to say something, but you cut him off:

"You know, I've never relied on anyone. Never. I've done everything on my own. And I achieved it. But... for some reason I thought I could trust you. That was my biggest mistake. Because every time I think someone is going to stay, they leave. Over and above you used me."

"I didn't use you," Jungkook said sharply.

You froze. This rudeness was like a slap in the face. You just smiled crookedly and walked slowly toward him, tilting your head back to look into his eyes, which were angry as hell. When you stopped next to him, half a step away, it seemed to you that he filled the entire space around him. Jungkook bowed his head, drilling you with his gaze.

"You used me, offered me a deal, played on my nerves, made me adapt to you, fucked me because you could. But you did nothing for me instead. You didn't even lift a finger to keep me at work."

Jungkook's jaw clenched. His eyes darkened even more, like a storm before a downpour. You didn't know that he had already done more for you than you could have ever imagined. And he would do more. He will destroy everyone who has hurt you. Even if he is among them.

"I made sure that the media didn't write dirt about you..." he began, and he wanted to speak for your mother and his intentions to free Kang Yonwon, but you interrupted him again, hitting him in the chest with the back of your hand.

"Hero," you exclaimed mockingly, "How could I forget? You did do something after all. Only not for me, but for yourself," your smile disappeared and your face took on that same hateful look. His gaze became icy. "Get out, we no have agreement anymore."

Jungkook nervously touched the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

"You can't just break it off!" he said firmly. You cocked your head to the side and smiled.

"Yes, I can. It's not on paper. And you're not my boss."

Jungkook was silent, staring at your face. Then he straightened up abruptly. He took a step back, but didn't turn away.

"Fine. If you're canceling the agreement... then I'm leaving," Jungkook says. You don't understand what he means by "I'm leaving."

"What?" your eyebrows twitch.

"I'll sell all my damn shares. I'm going to give up everything. I'll just disappear. Because if it's not you, they're forcing me to marry Sukhi. I will become a puppet. And I can't stand it."

You sighed, tired. You don't believe him. You don't want to. His words are like a play, another manipulation.

"How you dramatic..." you scoff. "You can easily find another stupid girl who will agree to play the role of your girlfriend for money. You'll fuck her without feelings and everything will be fine. Don't act like I'm so important to you."

Jungkook closed his eyes, barely able to contain his frustration. Fuck. You important. It's all about you. He doesn't want to lose you. And if you leave, there's no point in him continuing this whole fake relationship farce. You're important to him, but why is it so hard for him to say it out loud? Why can't he admit that he's in love with you?

"I don't want to look for someone else," he finally said, slowly walking up to you. His heart was pounding like crazy, and it seemed like it would jump out of his chest. He stopped too close to you. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to kiss you so damn much, but he knew he couldn't. He had to show you that he respected your space. "Kitten, I'm asking you to trust me one more time. One fucking time and I'll fix everything," he promises you desperately.

His words are quiet but piercing. Sincerity resounds in every syllable. Your soul cracks. Why do you want to believe again? Why not kick him out like you wanted? You shake your head. No. It's a trap. He's already failed you. He'll fail you again.

You have to think for yourself, for your grandmother, not for him. Don't think about how he'll live. It's his problem, not yours.

Jungkook touches your palm. Lightly. His fingers are hot. Yours are cold with worry.

"Make up your mind, kitten. Either we continue the deal, we go to Jeju, I fix everything with your work, I get your reputation back... or you refuse and I sell everything I have, disappear from your life forever. I will accept either decision."

You look at your intertwined fingers and listen to his words. What a manipulator. He has put the responsibility for his life on you. But will he do as he promises? If thinking about both cases? You look up at him and laugh softly. He's playing with you again, with your feelings.

"Manipulator," you whisper, barely audible. He does not answer.

Jungkook waits patiently for your answer. He's annoyed that you're laughing, but he knows you won't give up on him. Because you have feelings for him too. He knows that.

But you think differently. You are not thinking about your feelings for him at this moment. The only thought in your head is to give him a chance to fix everything. Because he is really the only one who can do it. You realize that you have to trust him again. But now everything will definitely be on your terms. Not his.

"Okay," you finally say. And Jungkook can't believe his ears. You take your hand away and back away a few steps. "But I agree on the condition that you fix it soon. I give you no more than a month. If you don't solve everything in a month, I will terminate our agreement completely. I need to see a guarantee of your words to play the role of your girlfriend. You: give me my job back, restore my reputation, and make Yongwon give me back the rights to the project which he stole. If you do all of this, I will play your girlfriend until Sukhi or her father breaks off the engagement. And as soon as they do, we end our agreement and you disappear from my life. Not even a single chance meeting. If you don't keep your promises this time, we'll say goodbye much faster."

You finish your long monologue and look at Jungkook, who looks darker than a storm cloud. His jaw is clenched and you can see his muscles playing.

"It's a deal," Jungkook says shortly and dryly. You nod in agreement.

"I'll go to Jeju with you, but I need time to get ready. About an hour," you say, just as dryly, "I'll text you when I'm ready."

Jungkook exhales heavily, and nods silently. He can't speak even if he wanted to. He is exhausted from this emotional war with you. He silently turns to leave, and at the door, your voice makes him stop.

"One more thing. We have new rules for the deal now," you say more briskly, with a bit of defiance. "Minimal physical contact. I will only allow you to touch me when necessary, not often. I'd like to eliminate kissing altogether, but that wouldn't be believable, so you can only kiss me when absolutely necessary, and very quickly. If I see you breaking these rules, I will throw a tantrum. Do you understand?"

"Y/N," your name comes out of his mouth harshly and threateningly.

"Did you hear me?" you ask again, harshly.

Jungkook is silent again. For a moment, you thought he was going to tell you to go to hell, but he holds back and only answers with a short answer:

"I’m heard you."

He turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him. You look at the door and tears choke you again. You are crying out of despair and fatigue. You are tired of enduring the shit of this life.

You sit down on the couch and cry for a while. But you have to hurry. You have to calm down and clean yourself up so that Jungkook's friends don't notice your red eyes and your face, which is swollen with tears.

The charter flight to Jeju was scheduled for 8.00 p.m. - the late time allowed you to avoid unnecessary attention and the press. You arrived at the Icheon airport with Jungkook, but there had been silence between you for hours. The tension between you was almost tangible.

Jungkook parked the car, and you started walking to the terminal. You walked side by side, but didn't look at each other. The once familiar touching became impossible.

Jimin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung were already waiting for you in the VIP lounge, not alone, but with a new girl, not the one who was with him on the yacht. They introduced her as Haewon.

The boys greeted you with joy, and you responded with a strained smile, a downcast look, and a hoarse voice that was barely holding back from breaking.

Hewon shook your hand. When it was Jungkook's turn, she held her gaze on him. He didn't pay attention, continuing to talk with his friends, but you clearly noticed her appraising, overly attentive gaze.

You turned away, pretending to check something on your phone. Her presence irritated you for some unknown reason.

After a brief security check, you were escorted directly aboard the private jet. You and Jungkook boarded together, silently, without exchanging a word, although he looked at you several times as if he wanted to say something but didn't dare.

The cabin was luxurious: soft seats, warm lighting, champagne on a table by the window. Hoseok and Jimin immediately sat down by the window, already joking about something of their own. Namjoon made himself comfortable across from them. Taehyung and Haewon sat a little further away, closer to the tail. You sat next to Jungkook, just as you were supposed to: "fake love" was supposed to sit next to each other.

He gently put one hand on the armrest between you, the other holding his phone. Everything seemed normal. But you could feel him tense up when you accidentally touched him.

"So, are everyone ready for an adventure?" Jimin called out, refilling his champagne.

"Always," Taehyung replied, hugging Haewon, who was giggling too flirtatiously next to him.

The plane took off and everyone relaxed. There was laughter in the cabin, Jungkook's friends and himself were exchanging inside jokes and talking about business, and you were sitting in silence. You tried to smile when it was necessary, but you felt like you were redundant.

Haewon kept approaching you, deciding that you should become friends. She asked you if you flew often, and she looked over Jungkook as if she was looking for something. Her perfume-sickly sweet-stuck to your nose like an intrusive advertisement.

After a while, Jungkook stood up.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he said briefly.

You didn't answer. You sat staring out the window. It wasn't long before you saw Haewon accidentally bump into Jungkook as she exited the same part of the plane. She lost her balance and he gently grabbed her elbow to stop her from falling.

You pretended not to see anything. But inside you felt a stab of jealousy. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Jungkook had walked toward Jimin and Hoseok, and at that very moment, Namjoon had sat down on the seat in front of you.

"Hey," he called to you softly, but you still jumped, not expecting him to appear. He smiled sweetly at you and you could see the dimples in his cheeks.

"Hey," you said, just as quietly and with a smile, looking out the window. You could only see the clouds and the sun painting them golden pink. It was a breathtaking sight, but you didn't care.

"Are you okay? You look exhausted," Namjoon said. You glanced at him briefly and forced yourself to keep a smile on your lips.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm fine. I'm just a little tired after work."

Namjoon studied your face for a few seconds and then assumed.

"You haven't been crying, have you? Your eyes are red."

You looked at him sharply, slanting your gaze. Again, he was being too attentive to you. He even noticed that your eyes were red.

"I work on the computer a lot and wake up early, so my eyes might be red." You said kindly, not to offend Namjoon, even though his questions were annoying you.

"Oh, I misunderstood, as usual, I'm sorry." He bowed guiltily, and you smiled wider.

"It's okay, don't worry. I've noticed you've been paying attention since the first time we met," you said. Namjoon pressed his lips into a thin line and looked away for a moment.

"Yes, this is my most characteristic trait. I can be overly attentive and meticulous," he said with a smile on his lips. "So get ready to put up with me for the next three days."

You laughed, not loudly, but it caught Jungkook's attention. You were listening to Namjoon telling you about the schedule for Jeju, not noticing Jungkook's attentive gaze. He dropped Jimin that he wanted to go sit down and walked decisively toward the seats where you and Namjoon were.

Jungkook had the same feeling inside as he had on the yacht. Namjoon was right there by your side when Jungkook walked away.

His gaze found yours as he approached. You locked eyes, and you looked away as if you hadn't noticed. Namjoon stood up as Jungkook approached.

"Oh, Jungkook-ah, I tried my best to cheer up your girlfriend, but she's too tired. You need to did something to help her relax," he said encouragingly and walked away, patting Jungkook on the shoulder.

Jungkook sat down next to you and leaned in, very close. But you had already turned away from him. You felt his warm breath on your ear and your insides fluttered.

"We need to do something," he whispered. "If everyone notices that we're not talking, they'll be suspicious. They'll think we've had a fight. Should I take your hand? Or... you could lay on my shoulder."

You looked at him coldly. Let him go hold Hewon's hand if he's so concerned about what others think. You opened your mouth to spit out something scathing, but... held back. You wouldn't win anything by doing so.

Instead, you smiled. You leaned down and kissed him on the lips, barely touching. Briefly, quickly. And then you gently leaned your head against his shoulder.

Jungkook froze. His heart sped up, his breath hitched, and somewhere deep down he cursed everything that prevented him from kissing you sincerely right now. His lips still remembered your touch, and he wanted more. And not just for the "role".

You were lying on his shoulder, looking out the window.

"Now no one will think?!" you whispered angrily, not looking at him.

He leaned his head against yours, hugging you. You looked like a couple. Jungkook wanted you to do this not by force, but by choice. You sat quietly, not speaking, and each of you felt tense, as if on pins and needles.

After a long, and not entirely calm flight personal for you, your feet finally touched the warm asphalt of the island. You could already feel the light humidity of the ocean in the air.

Three black, stylish SUVs were waiting at the terminal exit. The seating arrangements had been arranged in advance: you and Jungkook in the first car. Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon in the second. Taehyung and Haewon in the third.

Jungkook opened the door for you without saying a word. You had barely spoken on the plane, and now you were silent too. You sat down, looking ahead, and stared at the lights of Jeju at night.

It would take about forty minutes to get to the villa where you would all spend the next three days, the navigator showed. Jungkook often got calls from manager Lee, and he would talk to him briefly. You tried not to listen to the conversation, focusing your attention on the radio playing softly in the salon, but you still unconsciously caught fragments of the manager's sentences, "...they came to see her today...", "...the debt is 4.5 million won...", "when should I transfer the money?".

You felt very tired. You wanted to rest, finally, because today had been a total disaster. You glanced over at Jungkook, who was giving some quality advice to the manager Lee about company’s business, and you thought that you were likely to share a room with him. You had to accept it, even though deep down you didn't mind at all.

You turn to the window, looking at the landscape around you. For a moment, you thought about how wonderful this trip would have been if you hadn't known you were fired. Maybe Jungkook should have kept quiet? Yes. It would have been better if he hadn't said anything, and you would have believed until the end that you would be returned to work.

The car slowly ascended the illuminated path, and when you rounded the next bend, you saw a majestic villa overlooking the ocean, you involuntarily took a deep breath.

The building had a futuristic architecture with open terraces, cascading staircases, and a fire installation in the middle of the courtyard. There were palm trees and ornamental shrubs all around, and behind the house was a huge swimming pool with a transparent edge, beyond which stretched the evening ocean in the purple glow of the sunset.

When you went inside, the impression only intensified. Light marble, wooden accents, soft warm lighting. The villa looked expensive and luxurious.

Your room with Jungkook was large, with access to a terrace overlooking the pool and the ocean. A private bath in white and gold, a walk-in closet, a TV, two armchairs... and only one bed.

You should have told Jungkook right away that you would not share the bed with them.

Jungkook walked over to the bed, putting his phone and car keys on the bedside table.

"I'm not going to share a bed with you," you said, standing behind him near one of the chairs. Jungkook froze for a second when he heard your words. You expected him to act like a gentleman, to say something like, "Of course I'll sleep on the floor," but he gave you a half-turn.

"If you want, you can sleep anywhere. The house is huge," and he sat down on the bed, take his phone in hands.

You froze, mouth agape. He wasn't even trying to be polite. Sensing the silence, Jungkook looked at you sideways and barely contained his smile - your confusion amused him.

"Are you serious, Jeon?" you asked, irritated. He shrugged his shoulders as if he hadn't said anything wrong.

"Absolutely," Jungkook said without looking up from the phone. "You can go downstairs, sleep on the couch, or try to find another room." He locked the phone and nodded it to the bed. He stood up and slowly walked over to you. Your heart was pounding in your throat. "Or you can just sleep here, in the same bed as me. That way it will be better, and no one will ask any questions."

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you." you repeated, almost spitting out each word.

His gaze slid over your eyes, your lips... He wanted to kiss you - very much. But he held back. He will wait. He will wait until you give in.

Jungkook touched his piercing with his tongue and noticed you steal a glance at his lips. He didn't even have to speak. Just make you want to.

"Then sleep on the floor," he said mockingly. You choked on your indignation. Your eyes glowed with anger, and Jungkook remembered that glint that had always challenged him. It was like you were back to being those enemy neighbors again, but there was a much bigger story between you.

"How about sleeping on the floor himself, gentleman?" you asked sarcastically. Jungkook smiled out of the corner of his mouth. No, he won't be a gentleman. He'll make you lie down next to him.

"No. Why should I? I paid a ton of money for this villa, and definitely not to sleep on the floor. If you’re so scared of me, then sleep on the floor yourself," he said.

You didn't know what annoyed you more - his words or the way he said them so calmly. As if it was not you, but he who had the right to be angry. As if you had ruined something, not the other way around.

"I'm not afraid of you, I just don't want to be around you if it not necessary," you said rudely. Jungkook was caught by your words, even though he was sure you were lying.

"Sleep wherever you want," he said in an indifferent tone, taking a step away. "But I'm on the bed." And he walked away. Jungkook went to the bathroom without saying a word. You exhaled a long breath and felt your head hurt. You left your things unpacked and went to the first floor for a change of scenery.

You found Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok in the living room. Jimin had just told you that dinner was almost ready and offered you a glass of white wine. You nodded without hesitation.

He handed you the glass and you sat down next to Namjoon, who was trying to tune the TV, joking with Hoseok from time to time. Jimin took a armchair nearby, his gaze repeatedly sliding in your direction, as if he wanted to say something but didn't dare.

"Where's Jungkook-ah?"

You took a sip of your sweet wine and answered kindly.

"Taking a shower."

Jimin nodded and downed his glass. It seemed like he still wanted to keep the conversation going. You were embarrassed.

"We're having beef khanu for dinner, you eat meat, don't you?" he suddenly exclaimed, "I'm so inconsiderate, I should have asked Jungkook, in case you're a vegetarian," Jimin said. You smiled.

"Oh, I love beef, so it's okay."

"Ugh..." Jimin put his hand to his heart theatrically. "I'm already feeling guilty." You laughed shyly at Jimin.

"Please, it's okay. Even if I didn't eat meat, I could get over it," you answered, trying not to show how hard this lightness was really coming to you.

Jimin smiled. He took a sip of his wine without taking his eyes off you.

"I should have been more careful! And to prevent this from happening again, tell me you're not eating."

The conversation with Jimin got so interesting that you didn't even notice Namjoon moving closer, making some room for Hoseok. He suddenly leaned closer to you, pressing the remote a little more to find the right channel. You were close enough that you could feel the warmth of his hand on the couch, right next to you.

You looked at the TV screen as you continued to talk to Jimin. With a peripheral glance, you noticed Jungkook walk into the living room. He was wearing white shorts and a similarly white loose t-shirt that was see-through so you could see his body.

He looked relaxed, but his eyes were fixed on you. And then on the glass of wine in your hand. And how close you were sitting to Namjoon.

Jungkook silently took his glass, poured red wine, and sat down... across from Jimin. His gaze slid between you and Namjoon, and you could feel it in your skin. Jimin told Jungkook that he hadn't asked him about your food preferences, and he just smiled and threw in a curt "uh-huh". You could feel everyone's eyes on the two of you from time to time. It was obvious that everyone was noticing the tension between you and Jungkook.

You thought about getting up and walking over to Jungkook, sitting down next to him, showing all that everything was fine between you two. But at the same moment, Namjoon spoke up loudly, and he abandoned his attempt to adjust the TV and looked at his phone:

"By the way! ‘EON Creative’, a subsidiary of ‘Jeon Group’, won the Seoul Creative Awards 2025. Jungkook-ah, did you see it?"

You froze, and I could feel everything inside you tighten. You reflexively looked at Jungkook, whose eyes were already fixed on you. Your heart sank, and you remembered how horrible today had been.

"Yeah, I know," Jungkook said shortly, looking away from you. You looked down at the glass you were holding and the desire to play the role of his girlfriend disappeared.

"The project is strong," Namjoon praised you without knowing it, "An interesting approach. Natural cosmetics are a real trend. The author of the project knew exactly how to hook the audience."

No one noticed that your hand trembled a little. The wine glass shook, but you quickly pretended to turn it over in your fingers. The taste of the drink didn't matter anymore, it just burned your throat like a memory of the events of the day.

You could feel Jungkook looking at you, studying your behavior, but you stubbornly didn't look at him. You looked up at Namjoon and noticed him reading the article about your project's victory. The others quickly lost interest in the news, but not him.

"It says here that the idea is inspired by own experience," Namjoon leaned slightly towards you, noticing that you were looking at his phone.

"Yes, women trust personal stories. This was the key to the victory of this project, and tradition and environmental friendliness also played a big role. The audience is now very sensitive to naturalness, ecology, and ethics. The idea of combining traditional Korean recipes with a modern approach to marketing is a good one," you said softly.

"Yes, this is what works in today's market. Everyone wants something natural and for little money. I think this product will be very popular among all women." You glanced at Namjoon and a momentary peace of mind settled in your soul. How nice that he praised your work so much, noticing the subtleties you were trying to convey with your product. Namjoon is really attentive.

"It would be a great reward for whoever created this product," you said quietly and a little sadly. Namjoon looked at you. No more than a second, but you could tell he was studying your tone and expression. You smiled quickly so as not to give away any other emotions.

Namjoon tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at you with a slight smile.

"You sound like you... know the author of this project."

You froze, feeling something inside you shrink again. You turned back to your glass, inhaling deeply so as not to give yourself away.

"I just know what it's like when you work so hard, and it's obvious that someone has put a lot of effort into this project," you shrugged, trying not to meet his eyes.

"You're right..." Namjoon said as he turned away, and at the same moment, Taehyung and Haewon came into the living room, saying that dinner was ready and they were waiting for them.

Everyone started moving towards the backyard where there was a beautiful spacious terrace overlooking the evening ocean. At first you walked in front of Namjoon, but for a moment you were behind him.

When you stepped out onto the terrace, you felt an arm around your waist. Jungkook was unnoticed by you. He wanted to hold you close, but you removed his arm a little roughly, making sure no one could see you. Jungkook froze after you, and you quickly walk away to the others.

You really didn't want him to touch you right now. Because your nerves were on edge. You might cry or yell at him again. So he better not touch you today.

You sat down at the table next to Namjoon. There was one empty seat on your left, which was supposed to be Jungkook's. You didn't watch him sit down, but you could feel how tense he was. At one point, when Jimin was trying to pour wine for everyone, you glanced over at him. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together, and his lips were under the torture of his teeth. You could tell he was angry, but you didn't care. You were the one who should be angry.

Dinner was delicious and a few glasses relaxed your nerves. You spent most of the time talking to Namjoon. Your conversation with him was a defense against a nervous breakdown. You talked, laughed, discussed the latest advertising cases, new market trends, and even somehow easily touched on the topic of working in Japan.

Jungkook sat next to you and hardly paid attention to you. He ate and talked with Jimin most of the time. You sometimes turned to him, and you even made eye contact a few times, you were the first to look away.

"Tomorrow we're going fishing!" Taehyung announced, his eyes sparkling. "For tuna! Can you imagine if we catch one? I wish Jin could come with us, he could give his soul to God just to catch one."

"Yes!" echoed Jimin, "We'll catch one tomorrow and dedicate it to him. We'll send him a photo to make him envy!"

Everyone liked Jimin's joke and decided to do just that. Later, they discussed that in addition to fishing, they would be able to go scuba diving to see the reef and swim in the ocean. And if someone wants to, they can order water scooters and organize races on the water.

After midnight, you and Jungkook went into your room in silence.

He rushed to check something on his phone without even looking at you. You went to the bathroom without saying a word.

Hot water hugged your body, washing away the fatigue but not the pain. You slowly put on a light pajama, braided your hair, and came out.

The room was quiet. Empty.

Jungkook was gone.

You slowly laid down on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. You lay there for a long time, looking at the ceiling. No tears came - you were too devastated to cry. Another twenty minutes passed, maybe half an hour. The door opened quietly.

He came in, quietly.

He took off his T-shirt and shorts. You saw his back out of the corner of your eye - tense, like the situation between you. He lay down next to you, turning away.

The distance between you was no more than an arm's length, but it seemed to you that there was a real gap between you.

You opened your eyes and didn't realize where you were for a moment. A few seconds passed before your gaze settled on Jungkook's face. He was lying next to you, facing you, breathing peacefully in his sleep. The distance between you was quite small-not close, but enough to see the line of his jaw, his thick eyelashes that barely moved, and the dark lock of hair that fell over his forehead. It looked like he had accidentally moved closer in his sleep.

You looked at him as if for the first time. His features were calm, soft... and so beautiful. In the dream, he seemed completely defenseless, even gentle. And it was at moments like this that your heart rose to your throat again.

You had no right to look like that. You had no right to feel what was raging inside. And at the same time, you couldn't help yourself.

You wanted to touch him, but you restrained yourself. If not for yesterday's quarrel, you could be lying in his arms right now. His touch... it would always be something your skin would remember, even if you wanted to forget.

Suddenly, he pressed his lips together slightly - that tiny, almost invisible movement that you found infinitely cute. His eyes barely moved under his eyelids, and you suddenly had a terrible urge to find out what he was dreaming about.

Yesterday's emotions had burned out, and now, looking at his beautiful face, you realize that you are no longer as angry with him as you were yesterday.

Even now you realize that you did the right thing to give him a chance to fix everything. You hear his pleading voice saying "I'll fix it" and in your head he sounds even more sincere, that you heard him yesterday.

And that's what tore you in half.

Because you knew you liked him. More than you should. More than you can.

But he shouldn't be in your life. Not after everything.

What you had with him, did it was real? You're smart, right? You have to realise that it’s not. You just... allowed yourself to feel more than you should. You fell in love with the moments, with his touch, with his voice, and with his eyes when they looked only at you.

You squeezed the blanket with your fingers. You made up your mind: from now on, you would play the role of his girlfriend faithfully. To be able to feel his warmth a little more. Just a little more touch. Just a little bit of being close. And you would not allow yourself to believe anymore. And then, when the time comes, you will let him go. Mentally you hit yourself, you have to admit to yourself that it will be hard. Might you never let him go completely.

You got up carefully so as not to wake him up and got out of bed. You tiptoed to the bathroom and closed the door behind you. In the shower, you stood under the warm water for a long time, trying to wash away the confusion of thoughts, images, and... feelings.

The day began sunny. After breakfast, everyone went to the yacht - a luxurious, snow-white yacht with a spacious deck and everything you could wish for an unforgettable vacation. The sea sparkled, and a light breeze brought the scent of salt and sun.

Everyone was in a good mood - at least it seemed so from the outside. You laughed at Jimin's jokes, took pictures of seagulls flying by with Hoseok, and listened to Namjoon tell you something interesting about the depths of the ocean. Jungkook was next to you, but you noticed he kept his distance.

When you said something, he answered briefly, forcing himself to smile. When you took his hand, his fingers kept to slip out of your, and when you decided to hug him a few times, he didn't even hug you back.

You were annoyed by this. As soon as you tried to improve the situation between you, he ruined everything. So if he doesn't want to touch you, then let it be. You didn't try to be near him anymore, and in the afternoon the company on the yacht split into two camps. You were with Namjoon and Hoseok, and Jungkook was with Taehyung, Jimin, and... Haewon.

You couldn't help but notice how she laughed at his jokes, sometimes standing very close to him, her hand accidentally touching his shoulder as she pointed to something on the horizon. Nothing too explicit, but your stomach would clench.

And he... he did nothing to stop it.

So you decided that instead of spoiling your nerves, you should at least enjoy your vacation. You went scuba diving with Namjoon and Hoseok, exploring the coral reefs, colorful and vibrant, like a cartoon. Hosok was joking a lot underwater, Namjoon was showing you something, and you were laughing even though no one could hear you. It was fun, really fun. But somewhere at the bottom of your heart, something else was boiling - disappointment, resentment, jealousy. And a desire for him, Jungkook, to finally do something.

But he didn't. He just watched. You felt his gaze on you again and again. When you laughed with Namjoon. When you grabbed Hosok's hand in the water. When you took off your goggles after diving and wiped the drops from your eyelashes.

But what was the point?

When the sun started to set, you went to admire the sunset. You wanted to take some photos, but your solitude didn't last long. Namjoon came over and handed you a glass of cold champagne.

"Thank you," you said and took a few sips.

"Taehyung said twenty more minutes and then we'll go home. Looks like the tuna dinner is postponed," Namjoon said with a smile, taking a sip of his champagne.

"They didn't catch any all day?" you asked ironically. Namjoon looked at you with a sly look.

"Jimin complained to me that “we scared the fish away with our scuba gear”."

You laughed, but you were outraged that Jimin had blamed you, Namjoon, and Hoseok for their failure.

"A bad craftsman blames the tools," you said ironically, and Namjoon burst out laughing, your expression making it even funnier.

You joked a little more, saying how such rich people didn't think to hire a diver to hook the tuna on their hooks. Then there was silence-not tense, but rather pleasantly calm.

"Is everything okay with you and Jungkook?" he suddenly asked. You felt a sense of déjà vu-this scene had happened before: the yacht, Namjoon, and the same question. You smiled without looking up.

"Yes, everything is fine. We're on vacation, and even in a relationship, sometimes you need a break from each other. We're together all the time, so it's enough that we share a room," you lie and are surprised at how easily it comes out of your mouth.

"You've two barely spoken since we met you in airport. And today you spent the whole day with me, I'm starting to get nervous that he'll think I have plans for you," Namjoon said, smiling.

You flinched a little... and at that moment, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, slide down to your stomach, and lock you in a hug. Jungkook's chest was pressed against your back. When you wanted to look back, he leaned down and touched his lips to your temple.

"Do you?" his voice vibrated right on your skin.

Namjoon - to his credit - did not flinch. He just slowly turned to Jungkook and smiled broadly.

"Of course not. What belongs to my little brother belongs to him alone."

Jungkook looked at him with a smile, but there was no warmth in his eyes, only a silent warning: ‘she is mine’. And Namjoon realized that.

"Oh, come on, Namjoon. It’s not like I’m going to be jealous of my girl because of you. I’m glad you two had a good talk. Seems like you’ve got a lot in common," Jungkook said gently.

But you felt a twinge of unease, knowing it wasn't true. It was obvious that Jungkook was jealous. And what hurt even more was that he had been avoiding you all day, and now he suddenly mentioned your "relationship" to mark you in front of Namjoon.

"I had to make sure," Namjoon said with a wink at Jungkook. Jungkook winked back and leaned into you. You felt his lips on your neck, his wet mark and his hot breath. Your heart was already racing at his closeness, and the fact that he kissed you in front of Namjoon made it almost explode.

"Jungkook…" you whispered awkwardly, hinting at the presence of his friend. But you knew he did it on purpose to show that you were his.

It worked, and Namjoon realized that he had to leave you two alone. He stepped away from the railing, cleared his throat and said:

"I'm going to go check if the tuna got caught on Taehyung's hook by accident."

You smiled, and Jungkook mumbled "uh-huh" over your head, still holding you in own arms. But as soon as Namjoon disappeared from view, he let you go. He took a step back, stood next to you... he didn't even look in your direction. You felt a wave of irritation.

"Decided to remember that I exist?" you couldn't help but ask. Jungkook turned his head to you, stared for a long few seconds, and then turned away indifferently.

"I decided to remind you that I exist," he said coldly. You immediately started shaking, but you tried to control your body. To do this, you grabbed the railing.

"You've been ignoring me all day..." you began indignantly, but he interrupted without even turning around.

"And you decided to find solace in Namjoon?"

You almost choked on your indignation. Your jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt.

"I wasn't looking for solace. I was just resting and talking to your friends. We're here so everyone will believe we're a couple," you said angrily but quietly so no one would hear you. Jungkook turned to you and smiled cheekily.

"Yeah, you had a good conversation. If I hadn't come over, maybe he would have already hugged you to keep you warm," he said, and you wanted to hit him.

"Is that why you came over? To pretend… that I’m yours… You kiss me in front of him like a dog marking his territory?!"

Jungkook straightened up sharply and took a step toward you, a storm in his eyes.

"You are mine, I don't need to pretend," he said with authority, towering over you. Your heart skipped a beat and your legs barely held you up, and you were happy to have held onto the rail all this time. His confidence pierced you to the bone. He said it as if you really belonged only to him. But you didn't. You're not his. And he is not yours.

"I'm not yours," you said, and the words cut through your ears. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something when an enthusiastic shout suddenly rang out over the deck:

"YES! HE CATCHED A TUNA!" It was Haewon, who was almost jumping for joy, and Taehyung, proudly holding his fishing rod, waving his hands to show the size of the fish. You both turned to shout, and then Jungkook gave you a quick glance and walked around to the happy Taehyung who was holding his well-deserved reward for the day.

Everyone was exhausted after a day spent actively on the water and the yacht. The ride back passed in silence. But it wasn’t fatigue that kept you quiet. And it wasn’t fatigue that lived in the silence between you and Jungkook. You sat next to each other in the car, but neither of you spoke after the small argument on the yacht.

He didn’t say a word even when you got back home. And when you entered the room to change and take a shower, the silence between you seemed to grow even thicker. He disappeared into the bathroom first, you followed after. When you came out of the shower, Jungkook was no longer in the room. You went downstairs and followed the sound of voices to the terrace.

The whole group had gathered around the table. The staff serving your villa were busy preparing dishes and the tuna Taehyung had caught. Jungkook stood not far from the table, talking with Hoseok and Jimin. The three of them were laughing hard at something. Your gaze lingered on Jungkook’s laughing face, and then you made your way to the table. You knew he’d noticed your presence, but just like the entire day, he stubbornly ignored you. And it was driving you mad.

You sat in the same seat you had yesterday at dinner next to Namjoon. Whether on purpose or not, you couldn’t tell anymore. You knew Jungkook was jealous of Namjoon, but you needed company to ease the tension he had created. Namjoon was the only one among them with whom you felt most comfortable.

When dinner was ready, everyone sat down. Jungkook sat next to you, but he didn’t seem as cold as he had been a few minutes earlier when you arrived. He pulled his chair closer to yours, so close his knee almost touched yours. You caught him staring at you often, but now it was you who ignored him. What was happening between you two was bothering you deeply, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak about it. You thought that if you reached out again, he would turn away.

He silently handed you a plate, poured you some wine, and then placed his hand on the back of your chair the touch was subtle, but it consumed you the whole evening. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not enough to forget how he ignored you. Not enough to ignore his behavior. So, you drank. A sip then another. And another. You laughed louder at Namjoon’s jokes, leaned in closer when you were discussing something, and acted like you didn’t notice Jungkook’s eyes darkening with every minute.

As the evening slowly scattered the group around different parts of the yard someone went to the pool, someone went to get more wine Namjoon stood up, apologizing that he had to take a call, and walked toward the firepit. You were left alone with Jungkook. He kept eating, and you, casting a quick glance at him, poured yourself more wine — half a glass. You drank it in one go. And reached to pour more.

Jungkook silently leaned in and took the glass from your hand.

"Give it back," you said, your eyes flashing with irritation.

"You’ve had enough," he replied shortly. "Everyone’s already noticed how hard you’re trying to get drunk."

"I don’t care what they think. Give me my glass," you snapped. He didn’t say a word, just looked straight into your eyes, then turned away.

That was the last straw. You leaned in closer and hissed in his face:

"Who the hell do you think you are to decide how much I can drink?!"

He slowly turned back. Your faces were almost touching.

"I’m your boyfriend. That’s why I get to decide how much you drink," he said in a low voice that sent chills down your spine.

For a moment, you froze at his words and the tone he used. But then, regaining yourself quickly, you laughed right in his face.

"Fake boyfriend. So you don’t get to decide anything," you said loudly and turned away. Jungkook quickly glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" he asked, leaning in close, his voice threatening. You just gave him a side glance and reached for the wine bottle.

He grabbed your wrist sharply and pulled you to your feet.

"Come."

"Let go!" you shouted, trying to break free. You didn’t care about the curious stares now directed your way. But Jungkook didn’t seem to hear, dragging you toward the house. As soon as you entered, you almost bumped into Jimin coming out of the kitchen.

"Where are you two going?" he asked in surprise.

"We’ll be right back," Jungkook muttered and didn’t stop, dragging you farther despite your protests. His grip was strong, like he had broken off a chain.

Once you entered the room, he finally let go and slammed the door shut.

"What the hell are you doing?" his voice was angry. You froze, a bit stunned.

"What I’m doing?" you asked, confused.

"Shit! You’ve been driving me insane all day. Hanging around Namjoon, making my head explode, and now you’re running your mouth. What if someone heard you call me a fake boyfriend?! Do you even think with your head?" Jungkook was nearly shouting. You had never seen him this angry. But his words lit a fire in you twice as strong. You were ready to explode.

"Are you out of your mind?" you raised your voice. "You ignored me the whole day, acted like words cost money, and now you’re throwing accusations at me?!"

Jungkook looked into your eyes, and there was fire burning in them.

"You did it on purpose. You wanted me to be jealous," he snapped.

You froze again, your mouth slightly open. You didn’t mean to make him jealous the truth was, Namjoon had just been the closest one to you at the time.

"You’re insane! I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was just talking to someone. And if you’re jealous, that’s your problem. We’re not a real couple," you said, your voice growing quieter. After a short pause, you added, remembering how he called you his on the yacht, "And I don’t belong to you. So keep your emotions to yourself."

Jungkook stepped closer, and you had to force yourself not to back away.

"You’ve really driven me crazy, Y/N," he said, stopping very close. You hadn’t even noticed how your breathing had quickened. "I’m fucking jealous of you like hell. I’m jealous of everything. Even the air you breathe if it’s not in my lungs."

Your heart skipped a beat, your stomach clenched. You were shocked by the honesty in his words… and terrified by how you reacted to them. Because the truth was you liked hearing that. You were glad he cared. But you had to keep your dignity, so you made your voice as indifferent as you could.

"Be as jealous as you want, but you need to know that it’s over between us. Just the deal and only if you can handle it within a month."

You tried to walk past him, but he grabbed your elbow and pushed you against the wall, pinning you with his body. You expected to hit your head from the sudden movement, but his hand was there, behind your head, softening the impact.

Jungkook leaned in so close, there was almost no space left between you.

"You’re testing my patience, kitten. And if you don’t want me to be jealous—stay away from Namjoon. I’ll allow you to greet and say goodbye from a distance. That’s it."

You stared at his lips, felt the heat of his body, and realized how much you missed this. You wanted to kiss him, but his words snapped you back.

"What do you mean you allow me? Are you out of your mind? I’m not your damn pet!" you said sharply, your eyes locking with his. His gaze wasn’t angry anymore it was hungry.

Jungkook ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, never looking away from you. His eyes burned, but the fire was no longer rage — it was desire. Deep and raw, the kind that had built up for far too long. He leaned closer, but stopped just a breath away from your lips.

"Maybe you’re not my pet…" he whispered, his breath hot against your mouth, "…but you’re mine."

Your back pressed against the wall, your breathing uneven, your heart pounding so loud it felt like he could hear it. You wanted to say something cutting anything, but your tongue betrayed you. So you said nothing. Neither did he. Just the sound of your heavy breathing filled the space between you.

Jungkook inhaled the scent of your perfume, the same one that had messed with his head since the first night. His fingers slid down from your arm, brushing your waist, then your buttocks and stopped. He squeezed it, hard enough for you to feel how much he was holding back.

"Don’t tell me you don’t feel this…" His voice was rough, thick with pain and desire. "Don’t tell me you’re not drawn to me."

You tried to smile. Defiantly. And not completely successfully. Because there was too much truth in your eyes.

"I…" you began, but your tongue tangled again. Because he leaned in closer and touched your nose with the tip of his. Softly. Almost gently.

"Lie to me and I’ll kiss you," he whispered, and you couldn’t hold it you laughed, nervously, hotly. And in the same moment, he pressed you harder and stole your breath with a kiss.

It wasn’t the kiss of a jealous boyfriend. It was the kiss of a man who was tired of holding back. Hot, dominant, merciless. His tongue slid between your lips, demanding, exploring, tempting. You didn’t resist. Finally you answered just the same. With fury, passion, the hunger you had been building up for so long.

His lips moved to your neck. And even though everything inside you screamed that it shouldn’t happen, your body had already betrayed your mind. You grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer.

"I hate when you do that…" you whispered, breathless, "…when you say I’m yours, like you have the right."

"I do," he muttered back, not lifting his mouth from your skin.

His hands confidently slid over your thighs, your ass, pressing you into his groin. Your hearts were pounding wildly his in his chest, yours in your throat.

Jungkook lifted his head and met your gaze. His eyes no longer showed anger, or pain, or control. Only desire.

He pushed off the wall, grabbed your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, gripping his shirt uncontrollably.

Jungkook carried you to the dresser standing nearby and sat you down on it. You sat, but immediately felt, he had no intention of stopping. His hands went up your legs, spreading them without ceremony. In his eyes gleamed such hungry determination that you reached for him yourself for his collar, his neck, for those lips that had just taken your breath away. You didn’t want to resist anymore. You couldn’t.

His fingers slipped under your light summer dress, the one you picked for dinner, and now you were glad you didn’t wear too much clothes. Your skin flamed from his shameless, bold touch between your legs. He didn’t ask for permission. Because he already knew the answer. Because he felt how your body trembled under his hands.

"Mine. And from now on you need to understand that clearly," he said, his bass vibrating against your neck, then left marks like ownership signs.

"Kook…" you called him. And his insides fluttered. He loved it when you called him that. Jungkook slid a finger inside you, fucking you with it. He leaned toward your lips, and you could feel his hot breath.

Your wetness and moans aroused him to the maximum. He kissed you desperately and passionately, showing you that you would never be enough for him.

You moaned into his mouth, enjoying the kisses and his fingers between your legs. But was it enough for you? Absolutely not.

You ran your fingers down the side of his T-shirt, grabbing the edge and pulling it up, signaling him to take it off. Jungkook obeyed, pulling his fingers out of you at the same moment and in one deft motion, he pulled off his shirt, revealing his perfect torso with your favorite tattoos.

You looked at him greedily, and he couldn't stay away from you for long, so he came up and joined your lips in another kiss.

His kiss was even hotter, even deeper, like a fire that could not be extinguished. Jungkook bit into your lips as if he wanted to leave a mark on them. His hands never stopped exploring you as if it was the first time and the last time at the same time. He took off your dress, throwing it haphazardly on the floor somewhere.

You were left in your bra and thong, which blocked his view of your most private parts.

He pulled away from you for just a moment to remove the belt from his jeans. His gaze slid down your body and he could barely contain himself when he saw how beautiful you were for him.

"Fuck... You don't even know what you're doing to me..." he muttered, his voice sounding desperate mixed with desire.

Your fingers slid over his chest, down to his stomach, and when you touched the waistband of his jeans, Jungkook held his breath. You opened his jeans and pulled them down to the top of his thighs, leaving his boxers on. You pulled him to you and kissed him, filling his mouth with your tongue first. Your free hand went under his boxers. Your palm found his hard cock. You touched your finger to the head of his cock, which was already dripping with pre-cum. At your touch, Jungkook's cock twitched.

You heard him letting go your buttocks and pull down your boxers so you could better move your hand around his cock.

When Jungkook pulled them down, his cock lay easily in your hand, and you jerked him off without breaking the absolutely crazy, hungry kiss. Jungkook moaned into your mouth, and you adored those sounds. His moaning is the sexiest thing in the world.

His moans under your touch made you tremble even more than his tongue. His breathing was getting deeper, heavier, and when your palm came away, Jungkook rested his forehead on your shoulder, gripping your waist as if that would hold back what was coming from inside.

"You don't have the fucking right to do this so well..." he breathed out, pressing even closer, gritting his teeth to keep from breaking down too soon.

But you wanted him to snap. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted him to forget about everything but you. And you were already losing your head.

He pushed back a little, just to look at you, his eyes half closed, but glistening with excitement, with the fierce tension between you. His hand touched your neck again, went down to your chest, brazenly pulled off your bra, freeing your breasts, which he immediately grabbed with his hot palm, hard, rough, just as you wanted.

He smacked his lips against your nipple, his tongue and teeth forcing you to clutch at his hand even harder.

"Kook... please..." you moaned, unable to hold back or play at self-control any longer. He looked at you with a wild glint in his eye, as if he had already lost touch with reality.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked, breathing heavily. You stopped the hand holding his cock in your hand.

"Yes," you said firmly as he looked into your eyes, "Fuck me," your voice was hoarse, broken, you were burning up inside. And this time you didn't hide it.

Jungkook smiled triumphantly. His fingers rubbed your buttocks, pulling you closer to him. He lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist again. You could feel his aroused cock pressing against your pussy through the fabric of your underwear.

Jungkook carried you over to the bed and laid you on it. You squeezed your legs together, raising yourself up on your elbows to watch him quickly remove the rest of his clothes. When he was completely naked, he reached into your underwear, also wanting you to be completely naked as soon as possible.

You looked at his face, illuminated only by the street lights, and couldn't stop thinking how beautiful he was in your eyes. You were afraid that you had already fallen in love with him. You were scared that it could happen and you didn't know what to do about it.

But Jungkook didn't give you time to think about it. His hands tore the last piece of cloth off you, and Jungkook hovered over you, pausing for a moment. He stared at your face-at all its lines, at those half-open lips, the dilated pupils, the sparkle in your eyes.

"You're too beautiful..." he whispered and kissed you, this time softly, as an antonym to what had just happened. As if he was apologizing. As if he was proving that he would do anything for you.

His palm ran up the inside of your thigh while the other was already wrapped around his hard flesh. And then he spread your legs wider.

"Look at me," he said. And when you looked up, he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance and eagerly, somewhat abruptly entered you, wanting to be inside as soon as possible.

You arched your back and squeezed his shoulders, moaning too loudly. He filled you completely, deeply, greedily, as if he was searching for something long lost in you.

Jungkook froze inside for a second, feeling every millimeter. And you felt his hands begin to tremble. He looked you in the eyes, not blinking, not hiding.

"Don't even think about pushing me away anymore. I can't live without you," he breathed out. Your stomach filled with thousands of butterflies, and you couldn't hold back the emotion of that moment.

Jungkook started to move. At first, slowly, rhythmically, concentrated, as if he was studying you from the inside. He saw your tears and it was driving him crazy. You felt every movement, it was nice, and your tears intensified any feelings that were just tearing you up inside.

Jungkook stopped for a moment and leaned down to hug you, putting his elbows on the sides of your face. He leaned over and licked one of your tears away and you almost suffocated from that. When he did, he immediately kissed you under the eye, as if to erase the traces of tears.

You ran your fingernails over the skin on his back, and he brought his lips closer to yours.

"I never want to see your tears again. Only tears of happiness," he whispered.

You smiled and a new batch of tears spilled uncontrollably from your eyes and you confessed:

"They are tears of happiness."

Jungkook gave a push with his hips and you felt euphoric.

"Then why are they so bitter?" he asked. But he didn't let you answer, because he started moving, lifting your hips higher so that he could go as deep as possible.

You stopped crying, replacing your tears with moans of pleasure. Your hips were lifting themselves to meet him. You wanted more. Faster. Deeper.

And he gave it to you. His moved quickened. Wilder, hungrier. His body slammed into you, shattering all vestiges of sanity.

He grabbed your arms, pinned you to the bed, covering your face with kisses. His moans sounded in your ears, mingling with yours.

"So hot... so tight..." he murmured, kissing your neck, chest, lips, and didn't stop.

And when you felt your orgasm coming, he plunged deep into you and stayed there, as if he knew it was going to happen.

"Kook..." you didn't know what you wanted to say. But he heard you. And he responded - with his body. With his movement. With everything.

The orgasm hit you like a storm. You screamed, clutching him, biting his shoulder, losing control. And he-he couldn't stand it either. He came out of you in the last seconds, spilling onto your stomach. His heavy breathing echoed in your ears. He held himself up in his arms, above you, trembling. You could see his heart beating furiously against his chest, just like yours.

Jungkook finally calmed down and just laid on top of you, and you almost screamed as you felt his cum spreading between your bodies.

"Jungkook!" you protested, but he didn't answer your protests. He leaned down and kissed you gently, enjoying your lips.

When he was satisfied, he parted your lips.

"Don't make me jealous of you," he said seriously. You raised your eyebrows.

"I didn't make you jealous. If you don't want another man to make me laugh or spend a lot of time with me, don't ignore me," you argued.

"I had to give you some space. You didn't want to be closer to me if it not necessary," he said, using your words. Again.

You rolled your eyes, looking away, but felt him grab your cheeks, turning your head toward him.

"Don't roll your beautiful eyes at me here. I always do everything for you."

You looked at him and realized this only now. In fact, everything he does was as you asked, but more often than not, it ended up being the way he wanted it. You smiled between the cheeks he squeezed with his fingers. He smiled back and kissed you. You responded willingly.

Jungkook got off you and sat down next to you. You wanted to wash off the sticky cum on your stomach as soon as possible.

"Let's go take a shower and go down to the others. I think they're waiting for us." Jungkook got out of bed and picked you up, which made you suddenly scream. And without letting you take a step, he carried you into the bathroom.

The next day was a day of pleasure. After a stormy night that blurred the lines between desire and feelings, you woke up in Jungkook's arms. He silently kissed the top of your head, as if recognizing that something had changed. You didn't talk about the "agreement". You pretended that everything was back to normal, but you could feel this slight tension between you.

Saturday's activities were similar to yesterday's. You spent almost half a day on the yacht. You swam, jumped off the deck, competed to see who could stay underwater the longest, and then laid on the deck chairs, drank cold wine, and talked about everything but work. Today, Jungkook didn't leave your side a single step. You were constantly holding hands, hugging, and even kissing when you thought no one was looking.

When you returned to the villa around six in the evening to change for the evening and the restaurant, Jungkook became nervous. You came out of the bathroom and saw him talking on the phone on the terrace. Jungkook came into the room and you saw that he was breathing rapidly and his expression was irritated, even angry. But when you asked him what was wrong, he just brushed it off lightly, kissed you on the lips, and went to the bathroom.

So when everyone was ready, you went to an expensive restaurant overlooking the ocean. You rented the whole terrace so that no one would disturb you. It was illuminated by the soft light of lanterns that reflected in the waves. Tables with snow-white tablecloths, elegant jazz that was barely audible from the speakers. You sat for a long, long time. You talked, laughed, drank expensive wine and something stronger. You toasted friendship, freedom, and love that happens unexpectedly.

It was after two in the morning when Taehyung, walking around the terrace with a glass in his hand, came across an advertising poster. His eyes sparkled, and his voice sounded too happy:

"Wedding on the beach? Open around the clock?! Who wants to get married?!"

But everyone was scattered around the terrace, and Taehyung called out to everyone, staggering slightly on his feet. You all came together to examine the advertisement for a beach wedding ceremony.

"It’s like the ones in Las Vegas," Namjoon said, moving closer to read the text. But he almost couldn’t because the letters were blurry in his eyes from the alcohol.

"It's obvious who needs to be married," Jimin suddenly spoke up. Everyone looked at him in unison, not realizing who he was talking about. You were standing in Jungkook's arms, and if it weren't for his hands, you might have fallen. The world was turning upside down in your eyes, and you couldn't think straight at all.

"Who?" you asked for everyone. Jimin looked surprised, but being drunk, it was funny.

"You and Jungkook," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You laughed, as did Jungkook.

"Married?" you giggled, and then continued to laugh, "If the media finds out, I'll be hated even more on the Internet. Have you seen what they wrote when they found out about our relationship?" everyone started to reassure you that who cares what the netizens think, the main thing is the love between you. When the voices quieted down a bit, Jungkook held you close, kissing your neck.

"I will find anyone who says a word against you. And I will make them pay. Expensively." he promised. You laughed again, thinking that this man wanted to try do something impossible.

Hoseok quietly covered his face with his hands:

"God... they are the sweetest. I'm about to cry. You guys are perfect."

Taehyung jumped to the waiter:

"Order a ceremony on the beach! We want to marry these two young people!"

Without further ado, the waiter told him that the administrator was in charge of organizing the ceremony. The guy Taehyung asked said he would call him right away.

A few minutes later, the administrator came up to you and asked who to order the ceremony for, and whether you needed a dress, a suit, and rings.

"Order me the most expensive things. A dress for my fiancée, a suit for me, and the most expensive rings, I'll pay for everything." Jungkook spoke slowly so that his every word could be understood. You laughed at his seriousness and his desire to show off that he had the money, and his friends supported him with whistles and applause.

The receptionist clarified a few more questions and said she would be there when the ceremony arrived at the beach.

Forty minutes later, a mobile wedding ceremony arrived — just like in Las Vegas, with all the entourage: an arch, flowers, music, and even an improvised "marriage officiant." Haewon was dragging you into the room to change. You could hardly stand, you were laughing, you almost fell several times, but Haewon held your hand, helped you with the dress, saying seriously:

"You're going to be such a beautiful bride."

She put on you an off-the-shoulder silk dress with a lace back and thin sequins that sparkled in the light of the garlands. You were barefoot, with ankle bracelets like a sea goddess. Haewon gently fixed your hair and handed you a bouquet of white lily.

You didn't even realize what was happening around you. But this fake wedding was a fun adventure. If you had drunk one less bottle of wine, you would never have agreed to get married, even a fake one.

You were escorted to the arch by Hoseok, the oldest among you, serious and touched.

Jungkook stood swaying slightly, his hands behind his back, in a black and white suit made of thin fabric, without a tie, but with the top button of his shirt undone. His hair was slightly tousled, his eyes black and serious.

When you approached, you giggled and whispered:

"You’re an incredibly handsome groom."

Jungkook pulled you against him, gripping your waist and burning your ear with his hot breath.

"It’s so hot in this," he said. You laughed, covering your mouth. "But you’re much more hot in that white dress. Fuck, I have the most beautiful bride in the world. I can’t wait to take that dress off you… And you’ll remember our first wedding night for the rest of your life."

You laughed again, feeling a wave of excitement.

You had to pull away from each other because the music started and the master of ceremonies spoke:

"We are gathered on this starry night to witness the union of two hearts - free, wild, and... a little drunk."

There was laughter behind you, and you and Jungkook laughed at the joke.

"Before, you will belong to each other, take these rings as a symbol of your eternal love and say the vows that you will carry through your lives. Speak sincerely, as your soul feels. Confess your innermost feelings and promise only what you can fulfill."

You were given wedding rings and you took each other's rings.

"Please, the groom first," the master of ceremonies invited.

Jungkook smiled, took your hand and his, held the ring to your finger, and said:

"I promise to be the one who will hold you on your worst days... and undress you on your best. You are my weakness. And you are my strength. From today, I am yours. All of me. No strings attached. Without fear." He slowly put the ring on his finger, and even in the state of alcohol intoxication, you felt your heart ache, and a wave of incomprehensible emotions burst out.

You lifted his hand and looking into his black eyes, which were shining with alcohol, said your promise:

"I promise not to disappear, even if I'm afraid. I promise to be your home when the world is against us. And if everything goes wrong tomorrow, I will still be with you." You also put the ring on his hand and he squeezed your fingers, not taking his loving gaze off you.

The voice from the other side was almost inaudible to you:

"You have just promised each other to be real. It's not an accident - it's your choice. By mutual consent... I now pronounce you husband and wife! Put your signatures on the certificate."

You put your signatures on the electronic wedding certificate (a kind of souvenir, but it looked like a real one) and the master of ceremonies invited you to kiss to seal the marriage.

Everyone around you shouted with joy and you and Jungkook kissed. You felt him confidently hugging you around the waist, his lips capturing you in a deep, long, loving kiss.

And then you had to celebrate the wedding! Dancing on the sand, toast after toast, music, kisses, laughter... At about five in the morning, you returned to the villa, barely able to stand.

Jungkook took you in his arms like a real man, carrying you carefully, as if you were a fragile work of art. He stopped at the door of the room and asked:

"Are you ready for our wedding night, my wife?"

"Let's see what you're capable of, in this state of mind, my husband."

Jungkook smiled slyly. He will prove to you that alcohol is not an obstacle for him to love you well.

The door closed behind you. The room was immersed in warm, dim light, and the sound of the sea waves crashing on the shore could be heard from the open window, as if to soothe you. Your body still remembered the dancing on the sand, the champagne and his touch... but now everything was calm. Almost holy.

Jungkook put you on your feet, but didn't let go. His hands remained on your waist, big and warm. You were wearing a white dress, tattered, a little exhausted from laughing and wine, but his eyes were as if he were seeing an angel.

"You are my wife..." he whispered, his lips barely touching your forehead.

"And you're my husband..." you smiled, inhaling the scent of his skin, perfume, and salt sea.

He took off your earrings, carefully, gently. His fingers slid to your shoulders and slowly moved the straps of your dress. It slipped down, leaving you almost naked, wearing only lace underwear. He ran his fingers over your collarbone, slowly, wanting to memorize it.

"You're so beautiful..." Jungkook breathed out.

He pulled you closer, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath mingled with yours, and his breathing quickened. At first he kissed you gently, respectfully. But there was something more in that kiss, something urgent. His lips became hungry, demanding, and his arms tightened around your body.

He picked you up again and laid you down on the bed, kissing your neck, chest, stomach...

Jungkook took off his jacket and shirt and grabbed your underwear. He took off your panties with pleasure and put them to his nose. He breathed in your scent, kissed them, and just threw them on the floor. You smiled in embarrassment, and a sly smile played in his eyes.

Jungkook leaned down and kissed you, filling your mouth with his tongue, but it felt like he was filling every cell in your body.

Jungkook moved from his lips to your neck, his kisses moved to your breasts, which he paid due attention to, kissing each one in turn. And then he went down to your spread legs, licking own lips.

His gaze was hellishly hot. He stood between your thighs and ran his fingers from your knee to the inside of your thigh, causing goosebumps all over your body. Jungkook's lips finally touched your pussy, lightly, almost innocently at first. And then... deeper, bolder. His tongue moved confidently, rhythmically, as if he knew all your desires before you did.

He savored you completely, greedily, as if he had been starving for years. He was focused, as if it was the most important thing in the world. And for him, it really was. Your pleasure was his victory.

"That's it, kitten..." he whispered, "give me more. It's so good..."

Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging at it as a wave of pleasure began to wash over you. You moved your hips, but Jungkook stopped you by squeezing them tighter. He continued to lick your clit, and when he felt you were close, he pressed down, sucking your center completely.

Your body arched to meet him. You clutched the sheets, unable to hold back your moan. Jungkook didn't stop until your legs trembled, until you cried out his name like a prayer. Only then did he stand up, lick his lips as if savoring you, and smile in a way that ignited an even greater fire in you.

He didn't even bother to to undress completely his clothes to fuck you. Jungkook leaned in again, kissing you so deeply that you felt every nerve in your body tense. His fingers slid over your hips, your stomach, and when you whispered, "Please..." he paused, looking straight into your eyes.

"Beg your husband better, kitten," he said slyly.

"Please, Kook, I need you," you begged, breathing fast. Jungkook looked at you for a moment, then got off the bed and shed his tight pants and boxers.

His big, hard cock was erect. All you wanted when you saw him was for him to enter you. This desire made the moisture between your legs stand out more abundantly.

Jungkook crawled over, opened your legs, and put the tip of his cock against your swollen clit. He ran it up and down and you moaned at the blissful sensation.

"Come in," you begged, realizing that that was not enough.

"Beg for more kitten, I love hearing that," he continued to drive his tip until you felt the orgasm between your legs building again.

"Fuck..." you got out. "Kook... just fucking come in inside me," you couldn't stop yourself.

Jungkook smiled, low, husky, almost mocking. He did it a few more times, then took his cock away from your folds and leaned against the entrance. He lifted your legs, throwing them over his shoulders and entered you with one sharp and painful jerk, making you scream.

Jungkook froze, closing his eyes, barely holding back from the tightness of your pussy. Fuck, it's always so tight in here, like he's never been here before. Jungkook put his knees against your buttocks, lifting you up a little higher. He kissed your ankle and made a slow, careful movement. You raised your eyebrows, feeling both pleasure and pain at the same time.

His moan merged with yours. He began to move and his movements became more confident, rhythmic. He held your hips, pulled in and out again, each time causing a wave of pleasure in you.

"Yes... more, please..." you whispered, and he granted your request — faster, deeper, on the verge of euphoria. He held you close to him, as if he wanted to merge with you into a single whole.

And then he abruptly pulled out of you. You managed to get up, surprised, but he was already turning you on your side. One leg remained on the bed, the other he held and lifted. His cock was at your entrance again - and again a sharp, deep thrust.

"That's it... Hear that? That's the sound of our wedding night, kitten..." he growled, holding your hip and breast at the same time. You could feel him filling you completely, your body shuddering with every stroke of his hips. And the sinful sounds of your sex excited your whole being.

You moaned and held onto his hand until he stopped again.

"Do you want more?" whispers Jungkook, licking your shoulder.

"Yes..." you gasped, barely breathing.

"Then get down on all fours for your man, angel."

Your body obediently moved to a new position - on your knees, your hands resting on the bed. You felt his hands spreading your buttocks, and he stood behind you again. Now it was even deeper, even rougher, and it made your lips fly off:

"Fuck... that feels so good."

You moaned loudly, your head and hands resting on the sheet. He moved fast, hard, catching a rhythm that made the bed shake and your breath get lost among your moans. His hips hit your buttocks with a dull sound, and you could do nothing more than accept him - your man - completely, every thrust, every sigh.

Jungkook leaned down, biting your shoulder, and then straightened up again, watching you tremble beneath him.

"Ready again?" his voice was husky, excited.

"No..." you said, "Please let me cum," you begged.

"Not yet, kitten, I haven't had enough," he said, starting to move sharply and deeply inside you. You gripped the sheet tighter, biting your lip to keep from screaming more loud, because the windows and the door to the terrace were open.

His hand went down to touch your clit, stimulating you along with his deep thrusts. Your orgasm began to build stronger than ever.

"Kook...!" you exclaimed, shaking your whole body as you came. You moaned out a long groan, but even then he didn't stop. While you were shuddering in post-orgasmic convulsions, he pulled out and turned you back onto your back again.

"One more time... the last time. I want to look into your eyes when you cum with me."

He entered you slowly, bending your legs at the knees and pressing them against his body, and then began to move with wild passion. He squeezed you, his hands on your body, pushed his cock deep inside you, reaching your uterus, and you almost went crazy.

"Enough," you moaned. You pressed your hands against his sweaty body. But he didn't hear you, he was ruthlessly fucking you with his cock as if he wasn't tired at all. It was too much for you. "Kook... I can't... Stop," you begged.

"Not long yet," he said breathlessly. But you really couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop," you screamed. Jungkook stopped without leaving your side. You were both breathing heavily. You could barely keep your eyes open. He looked at you for a moment and then leaned down, taking your air from your lungs. His tongue entered your mouth, and you couldn't help but respond to this greedy kiss. It was as if Jungkook had really gone crazy. You had never had such intense sex and you had already cum twice, you wanted him to cum as soon as possible.

Jungkook straightened up, and he didn't leave you. You gasped for air as if you were forced to be underwater and for breath. He touched your breasts, squeezing them. You felt him twitching inside you.

"Kook, do you have a conscience?" you asked exhausted.

"Not when it comes to you — no," he said with a smile as he lowered himself onto you. He propped up your buttocks with one leg and straightened the other, penetrating as deeply as he could, and you felt him get harder, stretching your walls more. Jungkook filled the entire space, leaning down to your lips. "Did you rest, my love?"

You almost fainted from the nickname, so it sounded more special this time.

"I..." you wanted to say that you were not ready, you didn’t rest, but he touched your lips, kissing them quickly, and at the end he even bit them.

"I've been waiting patiently. Can I keep moving now?" he asked, and you didn't close your eyes, enjoying his voice.

"Okay..." you let him, and your words are followed by a push that knocks the air out of your lungs. Then there's another, and another. Jungkook slides his hand under your knee, spreading your legs wider to make it easier to fuck you.

Now that he was holding you so wide, you felt completely open, vulnerable, but at the same time belonging only to him. His gaze was dark, wild, hungry, and each new thrust pierced you to the very core.

"Fuck, that feels so good... Take me to the last, my love," he wheezed, pressing into you to the last millimeter. His sweaty, hot body pressed against yours, and you felt your insides begin to contract again. The orgasm was building, burning everything inside you, and you couldn't speak anymore, only moaning, calling out his name over and over again.

"Kook... Kook... please..."

"I know, I can feel it..." he whispered, his lips brushing against your cheek. His strokes became deeper, faster, each stroke as if memorized by your body. "Come for me, my love... I want you to come looking into my eyes."

His fingers were back on your clit, pressing gently, teasing. You arched your back, pressing into the mattress, and your vision went dark for a moment as your orgasm washed over you in a powerful wave. Your body clenched as if you'd dissolved into it completely.

Jungkook groaned, feeling your convulsions around him. His movements became uncontrollable, deep, and last.

"Fuck... me too...cum…" he breathed out, pressing into you once more, tightly, brutally. And at that very moment, he released himself too, his body trembling, his chest heaving, and a moan escaping from the depths of his throat.

He stayed inside you for a moment longer, lying on top of you, and holding himself with his hands so as not to crush you with his weight. Your bodies trembled in unison - tired, satisfied, tangled in the sheets and in each other.

Jungkook lifted his head with effort and smiled, seeing that he had just destroyed you.

"This is usually where brides and grooms declare their love," he joked. You couldn't even say a word or smile. Fatigue completely filled your body. Jungkook leaned down to your ear. His lips touched your lobe and he whispered. "I think I'm really in love."

You barely opened your eyes. You couldn't fully comprehend what he had just said.

"You can't..." you whispered, hugging his strong body.

"I can," he said, firmly. "I have for a long time," he admitted.

"Kook..." you whispered. Your mind was confused, you were very tired, and you just wanted to fall asleep.

Jungkook came out of you. He gently put you under the covers and sat down next to you.

"Sleep, wifey, we'll talk about everything in the morning."

You closed your eyes, steadying your breathing, and then fell asleep after some time you even didn’t hearing him pull you closer.

You forced your eyes open, and immediately squinted against the sunlight that was coming through the curtains. You slowly felt Jungkook's body hugging you from behind, his warm breath touching your shoulder. But at the same time, you felt a sharp pain in your head, like after a very long, noisy night. You moved and Jungkook moved behind you, sensing that you were awake. He groaned in pain, his head hurt too.

You lifted your arm to open the sheet, because the room was hot. But Jungkook didn't want you to move, because then his head would hurt more. He put his hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers so that you wouldn't move. But suddenly he felt a wedding ring on your finger.

He lifted your palm and you both froze looking at your hands. You both had rings.

"What that?" Jungkook wheezed somewhere near your ear.

"Wedding rings," you said, just as low, not recognizing your own voice. Jungkook let go of your hand and stared at his wedding ring. You turned to him, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Why are we wearing wedding rings?" he asked, completely oblivious. You lay stretched, covering your face with your hand. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, and the pain made it impossible to think straight. But fragments of the night were in your head. You was able to remember the ceremony on the beach.

"I think it's those beach ceremonies," you said without opening your face. "Like in Las Vegas, like a fake wedding," you recalled Namjoon saying.

Jungkook looked at you and then smiled slyly.

"So we're married," he said, and you took your hand away from your eyes, seeing that he was smiling slyly.

"Gosh," you grumble, sitting up straight and covering your bare chest with a sheet, "It's a good thing this isn't a real wedding, or it would have been a disaster."

Jungkook pinches your ass and you hiss, turning to him. He laughs.

"I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you," he says defiantly. You tap him lightly on the abs, which makes him tense.

"Shut up, Jeon. Don't touch me, my head is falling apart." you complain to him. He put his hand on your back and began to stroke it soothingly.

"I have a headache too, don't scream so much kitten," he said and suddenly his phone vibrated somewhere on the floor. Jungkook stood up, not even covering himself, and you saw his erect cock and yelled at him to put on his underwear. Jungkook joked that it would be better if you helped him calm down, but you ducked under the covers, hiding.

Jungkook put on his boxers and found the phone that was ringing and almost on the last ring, he picked up the phone.

"Yes?" he answered Manager Lee, who turned out to be calling.

"Hello Jungkook-nim," he greeted.

"Hi," Jungkook replied briefly as he sat down next to you. He found your foot under the blanket and began to stroke it.

"A question," Lee said.

"Yes," Jungkook confirmed.

"Jungkook-nim, why did you get married without telling me?"

Jungkook froze, and you froze, too, with horror in your eyes. Jungkook turned his face to you and you looked at each other in fright.

"Today I came to work and received the mail at the reception. I was sorting through the letters and found a marriage certificate, with Han Y/N. It's registered with the Jeju City Administration."

Jungkook couldn't say a word, and neither could you. You both froze, looking at each other, and even the painful headache and fatigue receded, giving way to panic.

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[dontcallmeelle]

[dontcallmeelle]

j-hope — ‘KILLIN' IT GIRL’ (2025)

[dontcallmeelle]

I wonder - Jeon Jungkook

summary: doing your sick friend a favour, which means helping out at jhopes concert does not prepare you for one person.

Jeon Jungkook.

The two of you had a hook up the night before he left for the military.

And now he’s back.

pairing: idol jungkook x reader

genre: smut, they re obssesed with each other, they’re just cute, jungkooks new tattoo is a huge topic

author's note: after yesterday’s concert I can’t stop thinking about it.

Y/N adjusted the last lighting filter backstage, fingers slightly trembling—not from stress, but from caffeine and five hours of sleep spread over two days.

The buzz of the concert crew was everywhere: stylists shouting, dancers stretching, cables tangling under hurried steps. She had been pulled in last minute, a favor to an old friend in the makeup team who had caught the flu the night before.

She didn’t expect this.

Not Goyang.

Not the massive J-Hope solo show.

And definitely not him.

But life never asked her opinion.

“Y/N, can you take the next artist?” someone called.

She nodded, wiping her hands on a towel as she turned to face her new client—and nearly dropped the brush in her hand.

Jeon Jungkook.

He stood just inside the dressing room door, black hoodie pulled halfway down, his dark eyes already locked on her like he’d been expecting her all along.

She froze.

He didn’t smile right away. Instead, his eyes moved over her face like he was trying to remember every detail he’d forgotten during his time away. Like nothing had changed.

Like it hadn’t been almost two years since that night.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Hey.”

A beat of silence.

Jungkook stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him. The noise of the crew disappeared instantly, and all that remained was the echo of her pulse in her ears.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice warm but unreadable.

“Neither did I,” she replied, fighting the urge to cross her arms. “I’m just filling in for someone. Temporary.”

He nodded. “I’m just… guesting for one night. Hobi-hyung wanted to surprise the fans. You know him.”

She nodded too, too quickly. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

Another pause.

The air was thick now—not awkward, just heavy. Like the room hadn’t caught up with the past yet.

They both remembered that night.

The hotel.

The way his fingers had lingered on her skin like he didn’t want to forget her before he left for the military.

The silence afterward.

No messages. No explanations.

Just two people pretending it never happened.

“You look… good,” Jungkook finally said, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up sharply. “You too. Bulked up a little, huh?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mandatory army diet. Lots of push-ups. Not much else to do.”

She smiled, and for a second it felt normal again. Easy. Dangerous.

“I guess I should do your makeup,” she said, finally turning back to the mirror and picking up a sponge, grateful for something to do with her hands.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Guess you should.”

He sat down slowly in the chair, knees brushing hers as he turned to face her. The air shifted again—tighter now. As her fingers touched his skin, her heart betrayed her with a thud.

He was real. Warm. Close.

Jungkook’s voice came low, near a whisper. “Did you ever think about that night?”

She froze again, her hand stilling on his cheek. She met his gaze in the mirror.

God.

His eyes were unreadable, but soft.

Y/N swallowed. “Did you?

“I never stopped.”

____________

Flashback

The moment their lips met, it was like months of tension detonated all at once.

Jungkook’s hands were in her hair, on her back, gripping her waist like he was scared she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N couldn’t think—didn’t want to. His mouth tasted like whiskey and something sweet, like danger in disguise.

He pressed her back into the private room’s couch, their breathing tangled and uneven. His voice came rough against her neck:

“I should stop.”

“Then stop,” she whispered, her fingers already undoing the buttons of his shirt.

But he didn’t.

He kissed her harder. Slower. Like he wanted to memorize every inch of her.

Clothes came off in pieces, pulled and dropped without grace. His skin was warm, the body beneath the shirts and choreography harder now, shaped by army prep and stress and want. He looked down at her with dark, hooded eyes, chest rising and falling.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said again, as if trying to remind himself.

“Then give me tonight,” she whispered.

He did.

And it wasn’t rushed or careless

It was everything he couldn’t say out loud.

The way he held her face in his hands as he moved against her.

The way he whispered her name like it was something holy.

The way his fingers found hers and held on.

They moved together in waves—soft at first, then desperate, louder. No music playing, but still in rhythm. His lips didn’t leave hers unless it was to breathe against her throat or whisper things that made her eyes close with heat:

“You drive me crazy.”

“I thought about this so many times.”

“You feel like… home.”

He came undone with her name on his lips, forehead pressed to hers, as if letting go of something he didn’t want to admit he’d been holding in far too long.

Afterward, the silence wrapped around them like a blanket. The kind that comes only when everything’s been said without speaking.

He pulled her close.

They didn’t talk much.

Just slow breathing. Fingers tracing bare skin. Her face tucked against his chest, heartbeats still out of sync.

And then, sometime before sunrise, she must have drifted off.

The Morning After

6:37 a.m.

Y/N woke alone.

The bed beside her was cold. The spot where Jungkook had been—empty, except for a faint scent of cologne and regret.

No note. No message. No voice.

Just silence.

Her phone was quiet too. Nothing from him. Nothing from anyone.

As if it hadn’t happened.

As if she hadn’t happened.

He was gone.

_____________

The makeup brush trembled slightly between Y/N’s fingers.

His hoodie was now off. He wore a sleeveless black shirt, and time had only sharpened what was already unfairly perfect. His jawline was more defined. His features stronger. His collarbones peeked just enough to make her pulse skip.

His hair was slightly tousled, freshly washed. His eyes—still that dark brown that had once looked down at her in a hotel bed, right before vanishing—were watching her again now.

Too carefully.

Too quietly.

“Look up,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He did. Slowly.

Her fingers touched his cheek as she blended concealer along the soft curve beneath his eye. His skin was warm under her touch. Familiar. Way too familiar.

Why does this feel like a dream I forgot I had?

She tried to focus. Concealer. Powder. Eyeliner. Keep it professional.

But his eyes never left hers. Not even once.

“Still the best hands in the business,” Jungkook murmured, his voice low, deep, intimate. Too intimate.

She didn’t look up. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he said. “You’re shaking though.”

Her breath caught.

“I’m not,” she lied, brushing highlight across his cheekbone.

“You are,” he said again, softer. “Is it because of me?”

She pulled back, just enough to create space. Not enough to break the moment.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, barely able to meet his gaze.

His expression shifted—something between guilt and hunger flickering behind his eyes.

“Because I thought I could walk in here and act like nothing happened,” he said. “But I can’t.”

Y/N inhaled sharply and set the brush down on the table behind her. She crossed her arms and finally let herself look at him without filters or pretending.

“You left,” she said. “No text. No call. Not even a goodbye.”

His jaw tightened. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows on knees, his eyes suddenly full of something raw.

“I know,” he said. “And I hate myself for it.”

Her heart twisted.

Damn him.

Even now—especially now—he still made her heart ache in the worst way.

“I waited,” she whispered. “I told myself you’d say something. Anything.”

He stood up.

And just like that, they were too close again.

His chest almost touched hers, and his voice came low, trembling.

“I wanted to. Every day. I wrote a hundred messages and deleted all of them. Because I didn’t know what I had the right to say after what I did.

Y/N’s eyes searched his, trying to find the lie. But there was only truth—and regret.

And something else.

Still burning. Still there.

“I’m not the same person,” he said.

She let herself whisper back: “Neither am I.”

His hand reached up. Hovered near her cheek. Didn’t touch.

Not yet.

“I never forgot you,” he said, voice rough. “Not one day.”

Y/N closed her eyes. Her heart was a war zone. And he was standing right in the middle.

Y/N took a small step back. Enough for air to return. Enough for her thoughts to line up like soldiers.

In the corner of her eye, she saw movement—two stylists walking past, a camera assistant adjusting lighting nearby. The pre-show chaos was picking up again.

They weren’t alone anymore.

She cleared her throat and reached for the compact powder, flipping it open like nothing had just happened

“You should sit back down,” she said flatly.

Jungkook didn’t move at first. His brows furrowed just slightly, as if he couldn’t quite process the sudden shift.

“I mean it,” she added, firmer this time. “We’re not having this conversation. Not here. Not now.”

He slowly sat back in the chair, confusion and something like disappointment tightening his jaw.

“You were just—” he started.

“Doing my job,” she interrupted sharply, not letting him finish.

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Y/N didn’t look at him. She focused on the powder, dabbing it gently along the curve of his jaw. The same jaw she’d kissed. The same skin her fingers had once traced in the dark.

But now, her hands were steady. Cold. Careful.

“I’m here as crew,” she said, voice low but firm. “Not someone from your past.”

He let out a quiet breath, like the words hit harder than he expected.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t get to decide what this is, Jungkook. Not anymore.”

His gaze was on her now, intense and unreadable.

“You’re being cold,” he said quietly.

She met his eyes then—just for a second—and something behind her chest pulled tight.

“I’m being professional,” she corrected

He leaned forward slightly again, this time slower, like testing her boundary.

“You don’t have to pretend like it meant nothing,” he said.

Y/N smiled—tight and tired. “I’m not pretending. I’m surviving.”

His lips parted, as if to argue, but she was already turning away, reaching for the setting spray. She sprayed once, twice, then grabbed a tissue and gently patted the corners of his mouth.

“There. All done,” she said.

He didn’t move.

She stepped back again, this time fully. Crossing her arms. Setting the barrier.

“You should head to the stage for final checks. J-Hope’s going on in ten.”

Jungkook stood slowly. She could see the struggle in his posture, like he was carrying something he’d never planned to carry again.

But he didn’t say anything else.

Just nodded.

And walked away.

Leaving her standing there, heart pounding, hands clenched behind her back—wishing he had stayed

… and terrified that he still might.

The hallway leading to the stage was dim and humming with nervous energy. Crew members moved with purpose, headsets crackling, lights being tested for the final sequence.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her brush belt, keeping her face neutral—even though her chest was anything but.

“Y/N,” someone called from across the comms. “You’re needed at position three. Final touch-up for Jungkook. He’s getting mic’d now.”

Of course.

Of course.

She grabbed her compact and a brush, forced her shoulders back, and walked toward the waiting area near the stage wings.

And then she saw him.

Jungkook stood under a warm prep light, a mic technician adjusting the pack clipped to the back of his jeans. His baggy denim hung low on his hips, tucked perfectly into black leather boots. The white tank top clung to him just enough to reveal the lines of his torso—still lean, still strong, still infuriatingly beautiful.

But it was the jacket that caught the light.

Black denim, dusted with dark glitter, shimmering faintly as he moved. A single silver chain looped at the collar, catching like a secret.

He looked like someone carved out of memory and stage lights.

Unreachable. Untouchable.

Until he turned—and saw her.

His eyes locked on hers immediately. Not surprised. Not smug. Just… present.

Like he’d been waiting.

Y/N didn’t pause. She walked up to him, pro to the bone, brush already in hand.

“Mic okay?” she asked, eyes focused on his face—not his lips. Not the way his collarbone peeked out when he moved.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just a little tight. But I’ll survive.”

She nodded and stepped closer. With one hand, she steadied his jaw. With the other, she dabbed around the corner of his eye, smoothing the faint crease where the concealer had shifted.

Jungkook’s voice came low—just for her.

“You always do this thing with your lips when you’re concentrating.”

Y/N didn’t react.

“You’re doing it now,” he added, his voice dipping even lower.

“Stop talking,” she said softly. “Or I’ll poke your eye out.”

He smiled, just a little. “You’d never hurt me.”

She pulled back slightly, eyes sharp. “Don’t test that theory.”

He held her gaze for a beat, the tension between them wrapped tight as guitar strings. Then—softly, almost too quiet for her to hear—he said:

“You never said I looked good.”

Y/N hesitated, brush frozen near his cheekbone.

Then she leaned in, lips inches from his ear, and whispered

“You know you do.”

And just like that, she stepped back.

Professional.

Controlled.

Even though inside, her chest was on fire.

“Five minutes to stage,” someone called from the hall.

Y/N gave him a last once-over and nodded.

“You’re good to go.”

He didn’t move right away.

But she did.

She turned and walked away—before she could say something stupid. Before she could let him see the way her hand shook once she was out of his sight.

Because the worst part wasn’t that he was still beautiful.

It was that some part of her still wanted him to pull her back.

From the side of the stage, Y/N stood just behind the curtain, half-shielded by lighting equipment and crew bodies, watching the crowd explode in screams.

Goyang was shaking.

The fans were on fire, voices echoing off the walls, arms raised, phones lit up like stars. It was the kind of energy that pulsed through your bones. And out there, under the lights, stood J-Hope and Jungkook—both drenched in sweat, charisma, and power.

She couldn’t help it.

A small smile crept onto her face.

They looked happy.

They looked whole.

Even after everything—time, distance, silence—watching Jungkook on stage felt… right. Like a missing piece snapping back into place, even if only for a moment.

The crowd roared louder as the intro to “I Wonder” began. J-Hope tossed an arm over Jungkook’s shoulders, both of them laughing between lyrics as they danced, light on their feet, feeding off each other like they never left.

Y/N clapped softly with the others in the wings, pride warming her chest.

And then—

The beat shifted.

A murmur of recognition swept through the crowd.

“Seven.”

Jungkook stepped forward alone now, breath still heavy, lips parted, eyes scanning the sea of fans like they were his to command.

The tank top was clinging to him now. His arms were slick from sweat, veins rising along his forearms. And as he reached up to adjust the mic wire behind his neck, the shirt lifted—just enough.

That’s when she saw it.

The tattoo.

Faint under the collar, but there—dark ink curling from his shoulder, creeping across his collarbone toward his chest.

Near her, she heard two stylists whisper:

“He extended it while he was in the army.”

“It goes all the way across now—shoulder to chest.”

“God, he got so hot.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

She didn’t mean to think it.

Didn’t want to.

But the image came anyway—

⸻

Flashback – That Night, That Tattoo

He hovered above her in the dark, breath warm against her collarbone. The room was barely lit by the streetlight outside, just enough to see the edges of his body—solid and real and hers, for that night.

Her lips trailed down his neck, slow and greedy.

And there it was.

The tattoo.

Back then, it ended just at the top of his shoulder, sharp black lines flowing like smoke across his skin.

Y/N kissed it.

First softly. Then again, with more hunger. Her tongue traced one of the lines, and she felt him shiver above her.

“You like it?” he asked, voice rough.

“I’d get lost in it if you let me,” she whispered back.

His laugh came low against her skin. “You already are.“

⸻

Present

Y/N blinked hard, yanked back into the now by the thunder of applause as Jungkook hit the final chorus of Seven. He moved like he’d never left the stage, hips rolling, voice pure honey, the fans eating up every second.

And all she could think was—

God, I want to see that tattoo again.

I want to see all of him again

She clenched her hands behind her back.

No.

Not tonight. Not like this.

But even as she tried to look away, her eyes found him again.

And this time, his gaze flicked—straight to her.

Just for a heartbeat.

Just long enough to let her know:

He saw her.

He always did.

He grabbed a water bottle from the cooler, downed half of it in seconds, then bent forward with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

That performance was a rush.

But the real jolt hadn’t been the lights or the fans.

It had been her.

He’d seen her.

Just off-stage. Watching.

Eyes locked on him for those final seconds of Seven.

And then it was over.

Now she was gone again.

“Yo, good job, man,” one of the dancers clapped him on the back. “You killed it.”

He nodded, still breathing heavy, eyes scanning the hallway.

A few feet down, past the tech crates and bottled waters, he finally spotted her—kneeling next to Hobi, calmly patting his forehead with a towel, checking his skin for shine, brushing powder over his temples.

Y/N.

Focused. Grounded. Not looking at him.

J-Hope laughed, still glowing from the performance. “I swear, Y/N, I don’t know how you don’t get bored fixing my sweaty face every ten minutes.”

She smiled, that soft little grin Jungkook knew too well. “It’s my job to make sure you keep looking good. Even when you’re dying inside.”

“Damn, harsh!” Hobi chuckled.

Jungkook stood there, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, unsure what to do with himself.

She hadn’t even glanced his way.

Not once.

Was she really that good at pretending now?

He took a step closer, then stopped.

She was still crouched in front of Hobi, saying something quietly, reaching into her makeup pouch for something.

She used to do that for me, too…

That same look. That same care.

And now I’m just… background noise?

His throat tightened.

J-Hope caught his eye first and smiled. “Yo, JK! You good?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, straightening up. “Still breathing.”

Y/N didn’t react.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t flinch.

She just kept dabbing a clean sponge across Hobi’s cheek like she hadn’t just watched Jungkook set the entire arena on fire minutes ago.

He almost wanted to laugh.

Or curse.

Or say her name just to make her look at him.

But instead, he just stood there—sweat cooling on his skin, heart thudding, suddenly unsure whether the stage had been the hardest part of the night… or if this was.

„Hey, heads up—Jungkook’s doing a quick change. New hair touch-up needed in ten.”

The voice came through Y/N’s headset like any other cue. Routine. Professional. Just another task.

She gave a quiet “alright,” already preparing the setting spray and hair serum. But her stomach still turned.

Another outfit.

Another moment alone.

Stay focused.

She wiped down the table, replaced the brushes, adjusted the combs.

And waited.

Minutes later, the hallway rustled. Footsteps. Laughter

And then—him.

Jungkook walked in with a soft smirk and new energy. His old outfit gone, replaced by a light blue denim jacket, slightly oversized, sleeves rolled once at the forearms. Beneath it, a crisp white shirt, fitted just enough to hug the new strength in his frame.

The matching light-wash jeans sat low on his hips.

Effortless. Warm.

Dangerous.

And of course, he didn’t speak.

Just walked straight toward the styling chair like this was normal.

It wasn’t.

Y/N’s hands froze at the edge of the table. Then she grabbed the comb.

“Sit,” she said softly.

He did.

The air thickened immediately.

She ran her fingers gently through his hair—softer now after sweat and stage heat. She spritzed water, then used the comb to part the strands, brushing them back from his forehead. His skin was still warm. His pulse visible at the side of his neck.

And then—his scent hit her.

Clean. Light. Like fabric softener and something deeper.

Masculine. Familiar.

Don’t remember.

Don’t go back there—

But her body betrayed her.

⸻

Flashback – The Way He Looked at Her

That night, she’d been straddling him on the bed, knees sinking into cheap hotel sheets, her fingers tangled in his hair.

He was shirtless.

His breath hot against her collarbone.

And his hair—longer then—was all over her hands.

“Don’t stop,” he’d whispered, eyes locked on hers. “I want you to touch all of me.”

And she had.

Her palms had slid into his hair as she kissed him deeper, rougher, harder. His jacket had already been thrown somewhere across the room, and her nails had scraped down his scalp as he moaned her name.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” he’d said into her skin.

And she had believed him

⸻

Present

Y/N blinked back to reality, her chest rising slightly too fast.

Jungkook was still sitting there, eyes closed, head slightly tilted back as she ran her fingers through his hair. Too close. Too intimate.

“You were incredible,” she murmured before she could stop herself.

He turned his head slightly toward her voice, surprised.

“You watched?”

“I work here, don’t I?” she muttered, brushing through the front strands slowly.

He smiled again. “Still… thanks. I saw you. Side stage.”

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t.

Her fingers slipped into his hair again, lifting gently, separating strands, smoothing texture. His hair was soft, like silk between her fingers. Familiar.

Too familiar.

“You always do it like this,” he said quietly, voice low and steady. “Gentle. You always take your time.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, but there was no venom in it.

He chuckled, deep and soft.

“I missed this.”

Y/N’s hand stilled for half a second

⸻

Flashback – That Hotel Room, That Night

Jungkook’s lips were on her throat, hot and hungry. The room was dim, but her skin was lit with fire.

His denim jacket was the first to go — she had peeled it off his shoulders, breathless from the kiss, from the way he was looking at her. Like he needed her more than air.

He’d laid her back against the sheets, one knee between her thighs, arms on either side of her head.

“Say stop,” he whispered, voice rough with want. “Say it and I will.”

She didn’t.

Instead, she pulled him in harder, fingernails raking up his back through the thin white shirt.

Her hands were in his hair — gripping, pulling.

He let out a low sound, almost a growl, and kissed her deeper

Her name fell from his lips over and over again as her mouth explored his skin like a map.

“You’re driving me insane,” he groaned against her ear.

“Good,” she whispered. “Now don’t stop.”

⸻

Present –

Her breath hitched as she adjusted his parting, her fingers trembling just barely. The brush moved, but her thoughts didn’t.

She could feel his hands still. His mouth.

She could still taste his skin.

Jungkook glanced up, sensing the shift

“You okay?” he asked again, voice gentler now.

She snapped out of it. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” His tone wasn’t teasing anymore. It was real. Worried.

Her hand froze again, just above his forehead.

And for a second—just a second—she let her fingers drift through his hair like she used to. Slow. Careful. Tender.

Like she didn’t want to forget the shape of him.

Then she stepped back. Hard.

“You’re good,” she said. “Done.”

Jungkook stood slowly, turning to face her, eyes darker now

But she was already moving, cleaning brushes, placing bottles in their trays like she hadn’t just relived his body on hers.

He didn’t say a word.

He just stood there.

Watching her like he wanted to say everything—

But maybe still didn’t know how.

The stage lights dimmed for a moment, then burst back to life in waves of purple and blue.

The crowd roared, anticipation thick in the air.

J-Hope stepped forward, confident and radiant, a wide smile lighting up his face. Jungkook followed close behind, eyes sparkling with an electric mix of focus and joy. Behind them, Jin took his place, steady and graceful, a quiet strength anchoring the moment.

The beat dropped — smooth, hypnotic — as the opening chords of “Jamais Vu” filled the arena.

Jungkook moved effortlessly, every step syncing perfectly with the rhythm. His voice blended seamlessly with J-Hope and Jin’s, weaving together in perfect harmony.

The energy between the three was magnetic, like they shared a secret only they knew — a story told through movement and melody.

Jungkook’s smile never faded. It was a beam of pure light that reached every corner of the venue.

When he hit the high notes, the crowd erupted, voices joining his in a chorus of adoration.

Side stage, Y/N watched quietly, her breath catching as she saw him shine—not just as an idol or performer, but as someone alive and free.

In that moment, all the distance, the silence, and the unspoken words melted away

Jungkook was glowing.

And she couldn’t look away.

After the last echoes of the performance faded, Y/N moved efficiently through the backstage area, gathering her tools and tidying up the makeup station. The buzz of the crew was still low but fading as everyone prepared for the next set.

Her hands worked on autopilot, but her mind wasn’t focused on the task. It kept drifting—back to the stage, to Jungkook’s radiant smile, to the way his eyes caught hers.

Once everything was packed, she slipped out of the main room, heading toward the quieter corridors backstage.

She paused outside a door, hearing soft rustling inside.

The familiar scent—clean linen and something uniquely Jungkook—filtered through the crack.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

There he was, pulling off his jacket, the soft denim falling from his shoulders. The room was dimly lit, shadows casting long lines across his frame.

He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” she replied, voice steady even though her heart was anything but.

For a moment, they just stood there, the space between them thick with everything unsaid.

The door clicked softly behind Y/N as she stepped into the small dressing room. The air was thick with the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with the faint musk of sweat from the stage — intoxicating and familiar.

Jungkook stood by the mirror, slipping off his shirt, the muscles of his back flexing with each movement. His eyes met hers in the dim light, dark and smoldering.

“Did you watch the whole performance?” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her breath catching. “Of course.”

He took a step closer, the space between them shrinking until it was nothing but electric tension

“Why do you keep avoiding me?” he asked, voice husky.

She looked away, heart pounding. “I’m trying to be professional.”

He chuckled softly, a sound full of promise and challenge. “We both know that’s not the whole truth.”

Her eyes met his again, and for the first time in a long time, the walls between them began to crumble.

Without thinking, her fingers brushed against his arm — a spark jolting through both of them.

Jungkook’s hand reached out, covering hers, warm and steady.

The room seemed to pulse around them as the heat built, unspoken but undeniable.

“Tell me,” he murmured, “do you want this? Or are you just afraid to admit it?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, lips parted — caught between restraint and desire.

And in that charged silence, everything changed.

Her eyes found his again, wide and vulnerable, the walls she’d built around herself beginning to crumble in the face of his unwavering stare.

Before she could stop herself, her fingers brushed against his forearm—a hesitant, tentative touch—but the electricity that sparked between them was anything but small.

Jungkook’s hand rose slowly, covering hers. His skin was warm, steadying, grounding. His fingers laced with hers effortlessly, like they’d been meant to fit together all along.

The room seemed to pulse with unspoken words and unsaid promises. The air thickened, charged with tension so palpable it was almost unbearable.

Her breath hitched. Her lips parted, words caught somewhere between restraint and desire. Her heart hammered like a drum, threatening to drown out everything else.

The space between them was charged with longing and fear and something deeper—something neither wanted to name but both could feel burning bright.

She could smell him, see the faintest sheen of sweat on his skin, feel the steady beat of his pulse beneath her palm.

For a moment, nothing else existed except the two of them, suspended in time, teetering on the edge of what was and what could be.

And then—

Her lips trembled as she finally whispered, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Jungkook’s thumb brushed soothing circles over her hand. “Then maybe we’ll take it slow,” he said softly, voice full of promise and patience.

He leaned in just a fraction, close enough that she could feel his warm breath against her cheek.

“Whatever you want, I’m here,” he said.

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, letting the heat, the promise, the aching tension wash over her.

When she opened them again, the vulnerability was still there—but so was the spark.

Because maybe, just maybe, they were ready to stop running from what had always been there.

The space between them collapsed as Jungkook’s hand tightened slightly around hers, his touch sending a jolt straight through her.

His eyes never left hers, dark and burning with a hunger she hadn’t dared to admit she felt too.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there, warm and sure, tracing a path down her jawline, following the curve of her neck.

Y/N’s breath hitched, every nerve ending alive and screaming for more.

Without warning, he closed the tiny distance left between them, lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft at first — exploratory — then deepening in an instant, fierce and desperate

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between them exploded.

Jungkook’s body pressed against hers, every inch charged with the electricity of months of silence and unanswered questions.

She tasted him — salt and something sweeter, raw and real — and forgot everything except the way he made her feel alive, wanted.

His hands slid down her sides, gripping her waist, pulling her flush against him.

The room grew smaller, hotter.

Clothes became obstacles to be shed, buttons undone with trembling fingers, skin meeting skin in a blaze of heat.

He paused just long enough to whisper against her lips, “I never stopped wanting you.”

And then he kissed her like he meant it—like the night they lost to time never happened

Every touch, every gasp, every moan spoke louder than words.

This was their moment.

Unstoppable, undeniable.

The heat between them was rising, breaths mingling, hearts racing—every second felt like a stolen dream.

But then, a sharp knock echoed at the door.

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, alert and tense.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, pulling back just enough to listen.

From the hallway came a voice—urgent, calling his name.

“They’re looking for you.”

His gaze flicked to Y/N, a mix of frustration and regret flashing in his eyes.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” he whispered, his hand briefly squeezing hers before he slipped toward the door.

Y/N barely had time to process before the door cracked open and he was gone, disappearing into the corridor like smoke.

Her heart pounded loud in the sudden silence.

She looked around desperately, spotting the small storage closet just behind the door.

Without thinking, she ducked inside, pulling the door quietly shut behind her.

Inside, cramped and dim, she held her breath, waiting.

Every sound from the hallway made her pulse quicken—her mind swirling with what-ifs and the ache of unfinished moments.

Outside, Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the hall.

And Y/N was left alone in the shadows, the heat between them simmering, waiting for a chance to ignite again.

The moment Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the corridor, swallowed by the chaos backstage, the room seemed to exhale with a sudden stillness. The air, heavy and charged just seconds ago, now felt impossibly quiet.

Y/N lowered herself onto a nearby chair, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly retreating. Her hands trembled slightly as she began to gather her scattered makeup brushes and palettes, packing them carefully back into her worn kit. Each item felt heavier than usual, burdened by the weight of the memories she was trying not to dwell on.

Her mind flicked back to Jungkook’s touch—the way his fingers lingered on her skin, the heat of his breath against her neck, the softness of his lips that had ignited a fire she thought had been extinguished months ago. The thought made her pulse race again, leaving her both exhilarated and conflicted.

“Hey, Y/N.”

The soft voice startled her. She looked up to see J-Hope stepping into the room, his ever-present smile gentle but sincere. His eyes held something deeper tonight—an understanding that went beyond the usual crew-member-to-artist banter.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” he continued, closing the distance between them. “You really saved us tonight. The whole team’s been talking about how amazing your work was.”

Y/N forced a small smile, trying to appear composed. “It was nothing. Just doing my job.”

But J-Hope shook his head slightly. “No, seriously. You stepped in last minute, and the boys really appreciated it. We’d love to have you join us for dinner—just us, the members. It would be nice to spend some time together, outside all this.”

The invitation hung in the air, warm and inviting—but Y/N hesitated. The offer was tempting, but the underlying tension between her and Jungkook made it complicated.

“I don’t know, Hobi…” she began, voice wavering. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”

J-Hope’s smile softened, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

“Is it… because of Jungkook?” His eyes sparkled with gentle teasing, but there was genuine care beneath it. “Everyone’s noticed, you know. The way you two look at each other—the tension that’s been building since he got back.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his straightforwardness. She hadn’t expected anyone to be so perceptive.

He chuckled softly. “The guys talk about it a lot. They remember that night before he went to the military—the night you two were… close.”

Her cheeks flushed, heat rushing to her face. She bit her lip, uncertain whether to deny it or confess.

J-Hope’s expression was kind but honest. “No shame in it, Y/N. It’s clear there’s something between you two. Maybe it’s time to stop pretending.”

She looked down, wrestling with her feelings—the fear of opening old wounds, the desire for something more, and the uncertainty of what that something might be.

The room felt smaller, the distance between them shrinking as the truth lingered in the air.

After a long pause, Y/N finally met J-Hope’s eyes. “Maybe you’re right,” she whispered.

J-Hope’s grin returned, bright and reassuring. “Good. Because whatever happens, we’re here for you. And who knows? Tonight might be the start of something new.”

Y/N nodded slowly, heart pounding—not just from the night’s events, but from the possibility of what could come next.

Outside the door, the distant hum of the crowd and the pulsing beat of the music reminded her that this world was fast and unpredictable. But for now, she allowed herself a moment of quiet hope.

They ended up in a small, tucked-away Korean BBQ place — the kind of late-night spot that didn’t need a name, only the smell of grilled meat spilling out into the street to draw people in.

It was nearly 1 a.m., but the private room was already buzzing when Y/N walked in with J-Hope.

Laughter bounced off the walls. Jin was mid-story, animated as always, hands flying everywhere while Jimin leaned into him, half-laughing, half-mocking. Taehyung was fiddling with the grill tongs, pretending to be the “meat master,” while Namjoon poured everyone water with such focus it looked like he was defusing a bomb.

Y/N hesitated at the threshold.

Until she saw him.

Jungkook.

Sitting near the far end of the low table, his denim jacket hung on the back of his chair, and his plain white t-shirt stretched just right across his chest. His hair was still damp from the show, pushed back lazily, revealing that sharp jaw and those dark, unreadable eyes.

He looked up when she entered.

And for the briefest moment—one second, no more—it was like the noise disappeared. Like she was the only person in the room.

Then Jimin shouted, “Y/N! Yah, finally! Come sit!

Hobi guided her inside with a soft nudge, and she slipped off her shoes, squeezing in between Taehyung and Namjoon. Not too far from Jungkook… but not next to him, either.

“Eat, eat,” Jin said, piling her plate high without waiting for her to speak. “You’re family now.”

Someone threw a piece of pork belly on the hot grill and it sizzled instantly, sending up a wave of smoke and scent that made Y/N’s stomach rumble.

The atmosphere was loud and easy, but her body was tense.

Jungkook hadn’t said a word.

But she could feel him.

Every time she laughed too loud, every time she reached for the lettuce, she felt his gaze flicker toward her. A glance here. A pause there. Heat beneath the surface.

It was subtle, but it was undeniable.

And the others weren’t subtle at all.

“So,” Jimin said, eyes glinting as he chewed. “Y/N, how’s it feel being back with the crew? Especially with Jungkook around again?”

The room buzzed with quiet laughter.

Y/N looked down at her rice.

Taehyung didn’t even hide his grin. “Yeah, the tension backstage was… whew. Thick. Like ramen noodles.”

“Thicker,” Jin added helpfully. “Udon-thick.”

Hobi raised his eyebrows at her, mock-innocent. “You sure you’re just here for makeup, Y/N?”

She nearly choked on her kimchi. “You’re all insane.”

But her cheeks were warm. And Jungkook?

Still silent.

Until he finally looked at her—straight on.

His voice cut through the table, low and even: “Let them talk.”

She froze. Everyone else did too.

He didn’t take his eyes off her as he added, “We know the truth, don’t we?”

It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t even playful.

It was something deeper. Something real.

And for the first time that night, Y/N wasn’t sure if her heart was racing from embarrassment… or from everything she couldn’t say.

The room burst back to life.

Once Jungkook dropped his cryptic “we know the truth,” the rest of the guys lost it.

“Ooooooh,” Jimin howled, nearly choking on his lettuce wrap. “He really said that.”

“So dramatic,” Taehyung said, clutching his chest like he’d just heard a confession on a K-drama. “Was that the opening monologue of a romance drama or what?

“I’m crying,” Namjoon muttered into his beer glass. “I swear you two are living in a fanfiction.”

Y/N covered her face with her hands, laughing so hard her sides hurt. “You guys are so annoying.”

“No, no, we’re just invested,” Jin grinned. “This is better than Love Alarm.”

J-Hope, still grilling meat like a professional, raised the tongs like a mic. “Y/N, tell us the truth—on a scale from ‘meh’ to ‘melt my bones,’ how spicy was that one night before Jungkook enlisted?”

“Hobi!” she shrieked, half-laughing, half-dying of embarrassment.

“C’mon,” Jimin said, elbowing her gently. “We all know you’ve seen the tattoo.”

Everyone froze in mock horror.

Jin gasped. “The chest extension?”

“Oh, so it is real,” Namjoon said with a smirk.

Taehyung leaned in dramatically. “Did you… kiss it?”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “I hate all of you.“

But the way her eyes sparkled said otherwise.

And the best part?

Even Jungkook was laughing.

Leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, his smile was that full, bunny-toothed grin—the one he rarely showed. He was blushing faintly, but not mad. Just watching her. Enjoying the chaos.

“Didn’t know you guys were so curious,” he said coolly.

“Oh, we’re nosy as hell,” Jimin shot back.

“And protective,” Taehyung added, poking his chopsticks at Jungkook. “But mostly nosy.”

Y/N wiped her eyes. Her cheeks were sore from smiling. It was rare to feel this light—especially after the emotional whirlwind backstage—but here, with them, it felt like home.

She picked up a piece of meat and dropped it on Jungkook’s plate.

“There,” she said, smirking. “You earned it. For surviving the interrogation.

Jungkook glanced down at his plate, then back up at her. “You feeding me now?”

The table erupted again.

“OH my god,” Jimin groaned, covering his face. “I can’t do this.”

“Just make out already,” Jin muttered. “And give us peace.”

Y/N laughed, head tipping back, feeling warmth bubble in her chest—not just from the soju or the teasing, but from something deeper.

Something like belonging.

The laughter hadn’t died down — if anything, the room had only grown louder. Jin was now reenacting a dramatic slow-motion version of Y/N “discovering” Jungkook’s chest tattoo, complete with gasps and exaggerated sound effects. Taehyung added background music on his phone, some over-the-top piano ballad from a 2008 K-drama OST.

Y/N was crying laughing, her cheeks warm and her stomach sore from how much fun she was having.

Somewhere between Hobi pouring more soju and Jimin complaining about how “nobody respects the vocal line anymore,” the conversation circled back—like it always did—to Jungkook.

“You’re seriously not gonna tell us what it looks like?” Taehyung asked Jungkook, who was now reclining comfortably in his seat, arms crossed, sipping his water like he had all the time in the world.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You’ve all seen it. Why are you acting like it’s top secret?”

“I haven’t,” Y/N chimed in suddenly, tone light and mischievous as she reached for a piece of grilled mushroom.

The table paused—just for a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes lifted slowly to meet hers.

Y/N smiled innocently, but her voice carried the exact kind of heat that turned playful into dangerous:

“I mean, I don’t really know the tattoo… not up close. But…” — she shrugged — “I wouldn’t mind seeing it someday.”

The table exploded.

Jimin screamed, literally falling onto Namjoon’s shoulder.

“NO. MA’AM.”

“WHAT DID SHE JUST—”

Taehyung slapped the table so hard his chopsticks flew.

“YAH?!”

Even Hobi choked on his lettuce.

Jin just nodded solemnly. “She’s one of us now.”

Namjoon muttered something about needing a therapist.

But Jungkook…

He didn’t laugh.

Not right away.

He just looked at her.

And that look—God.

There was no mistaking the spark that flashed behind his eyes. Amusement, yes. But more.

Something dark and amused and dangerous.

He took another slow sip of his water, then tilted his head slightly, still holding her gaze.

“That so?” he said, voice smooth.

“Someday might come sooner than you think.”

The air thickened.

Everyone felt it.

Even the guys got a little quieter. Not out of discomfort—just knowing when the joke had crossed into real territory.

J-Hope, the eternal mood-balancer, clapped his hands. “Aaaaand that’s our cue to call for dessert!”

Y/N laughed again, trying to breathe, trying to act normal. But her heart was beating a little faster. Her eyes flicked back to Jungkook just once.

He was still watching her.

Still smiling.

But differently now.

Like he was counting the seconds until “someday.”

The night had begun to settle, the air outside still warm from the lingering summer heat, but softened now by the late hour. The laughter from dinner echoed faintly as they left the restaurant, the BTS boys still bantering and pulling each other into goodbyes.

Y/N stood just outside the entrance, her makeup bag slung over her shoulder, the cool breeze brushing her cheeks. She didn’t expect it when Jungkook stepped beside her.

“I’ll take you home,” he said simply.

No hesitation. No question.

Just that low, quiet voice. Gentle, but firm.

She blinked, taken aback. “You… sure?”

He nodded once, already unlocking the passenger door of a sleek black SUV parked nearby. “It’s late. You helped us all tonight. Let me return the favor.

She hesitated. Not because she didn’t want to—but because the idea of being alone with him again made her pulse flutter.

But she got in.

The drive started quiet. City lights blurred past the window, and the hum of the tires on asphalt filled the silence. Jungkook had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gearshift, fingers drumming softly to a song only he could hear.

Y/N watched him out of the corner of her eye.

It was strange. After all the noise, the teasing, the chaos of the group—this silence felt heavier than anything.

She cleared her throat. “You were amazing tonight. On stage. I needed the second performance again on my phone“ you giggled.

He glanced at her, lips quirking up slightly. “Thanks. It felt good to be back.”

“And ‘Seven’…” she smiled to herself, staring out the window. “It hits different live.”

“You looked like you were enjoying it,” he said, eyes still on the road.

She laughed softly. “You mean when I almost spilled my water trying to film you?”

He chuckled, the sound warm. “Yeah, that.”

Silence fell again, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt… loaded. Like something thick in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.

Finally, she said it. Quietly.

“You didn’t say goodbye back then.”

Jungkook didn’t answer at first.

Then, he pulled into a small side street near her place and parked. The engine went silent. No more movement. Just the two of them, the hum of the city outside, and everything that hadn’t been said for over a year.

“I couldn’t,” he said finally. Voice low. Honest. “I didn’t trust myself.”

Y/N turned toward him, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone.

“I thought…” He paused, jaw flexing slightly. “If I said goodbye the right way, I wouldn’t leave. And I had to. I had no choice.”

She looked down, fingers nervously twisting the strap of her bag. “You could’ve at least left a message. Something.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry.”

Silence.

But now it was his turn to speak again.

“I thought about you a lot. More than I should have.”

Her breath caught.

He leaned slightly closer, not touching, but closer. His voice dropped.

“And tonight… that little comment you made at dinner?”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his.

He smiled—slow, almost cocky—but still soft around the edges.

“You’re still curious about the tattoo, huh?”

Her cheeks warmed instantly. “I was joking.”

“Were you?” he murmured.

Then his hand reached up—slowly—and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

That touch alone was enough to undo her.

“You shouldn’t play with fire if you’re not ready to get burned,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Her voice trembled, but she held his gaze. “Who says I’m not ready?”

That was the moment.

The air between them crackled.

He didn’t kiss her.

Not yet.

But the promise of it hung in the space between their mouths—so close, so charged, so inevitable.

And when he finally pulled back, just enough to let her breathe again, his smile was softer this time.

“I’ll walk you up.”

The elevator ride up to her apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet where every second stretched into a question. Every glance was a whisper of should we? And the air between them… was ready to ignite.

Y/N’s fingers shook slightly as she unlocked her door, the familiar click of the lock sounding so loud in the silence that followed.

She stepped inside, turned on the hallway light.

Jungkook followed.

And as she closed the door behind him, the soft thud of it shutting felt like crossing a line.

No turning back.

Y/N slipped off her shoes. “Do you want something to drink? Water? Or—”

But her voice faltered when she turned around and saw him watching her.

He was standing in the narrow hallway, still in his all-denim outfit, the white shirt beneath his jacket clinging faintly to his frame. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his lips parted like he wanted to say something—but didn’t.

“I’m not thirsty,” he said.

And it wasn’t what he said, but how he said it.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was charged.

She took one step closer. So did he.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “About thinking of you. About missing you.”

Her breath caught. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

His eyes searched hers.

“Because if I told you then… I wouldn’t have stopped.”

Then his hand reached for her—slow, but sure. His fingers brushed her cheek, then slid into her hair as he stepped into her space, eyes locked on her lips.

And when he kissed her, it wasn’t gentle.

It was months of tension, guilt, want, and memory all at once.

His lips crushed hers with a hunger that made her gasp, her fingers clutching at the collar of his jacket. She could taste the leftover sweetness of soju and the familiar heat that had haunted her dreams for months.

Jungkook moved with purpose, backing her up until her shoulders hit the wall, never once breaking the kiss. His hand slid around her waist, gripping her hip like he was claiming her—like he had to make sure she was real.

She tugged at his jacket. He let it fall.

Her hands slid under the hem of his white shirt, fingertips grazing skin—warm, solid, the faintest edge of his abs tightening beneath her touch.

And then she felt it.

The tattoo.

inked into his shoulder… but now extended, traced down over his chest, disappearing beneath his shirt.

He pulled back just enough to catch her expression. His smile was dangerous.

“Still curious?” he asked, breathless.

Y/N nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Show me.“

And just like that, he stripped off the shirt.

Slowly. Intentionally.

The fabric lifted, revealing inch after inch of warm skin, hard muscle, and ink—dark lines and shadows that traced down across his collarbone and onto his chest. Her eyes followed it, mesmerized, lips parting.

“You can touch,” he said, voice low. “I want you to.”

She stepped forward, hands resting on his bare chest. Her fingers traced the tattoo slowly, then her lips followed—soft kisses over the ink, down the line of his collarbone.

His breath hitched. “Fuck…”

That one word unraveled them both.

He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her against the wall again, his mouth on her neck now—biting, soothing, teasing—hands sliding beneath her shirt, exploring with the kind of hunger that came from waiting too long.

Y/N was gasping, clawing at his skin, her voice a whisper against his ear:

“You left me burning for a year, Jeon.”

His answer was a growl, low and deep:

“Then let me burn with you now.”

And he did.

Again and again.

Until the only thing left between them was sweat, skin, and the sound of two hearts finally finding their rhythm again.

Y/N woke to warmth.

Not just the sunlight gently seeping in through the thin curtains — but the steady, solid heat of Jungkook’s body wrapped around hers. His arm draped heavy over her waist, his legs tangled lazily with hers, and his breath soft against the back of her neck.

And he was still asleep.

She could tell by the rhythm — slow, deep — and by the way his hand twitched every now and then against her stomach, as if holding her tighter even in his dreams.

Her eyes fluttered shut again.

For a while, she just lay there — letting herself feel it. His skin against hers. The quiet peace of a moment that didn’t feel rushed, or borrowed, or dangerous.

Just… theirs.

Then, softly:

“You’re awake.”

His voice was rough — sleep-heavy, low, and deeper than usual

She smiled, eyes still closed. “So are you.”

He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades. “Didn’t want to be. But you’re so warm, it’s distracting.”

She laughed under her breath, turning slightly in his arms so she could face him.

Jungkook was barefaced — hair messy, lips pink, his eyes still half-closed. But beautiful. Soft and unguarded in a way she rarely saw.

“You drool,” she said, grinning.

He groaned. “No, I don’t.”

“You absolutely do. You were cuddling me like a human pillow.”

“You’re small and soft. That’s not my fault.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to sit up — but Jungkook pulled her back down without effort, wrapping both arms around her like a human blanket.

“You’re not going anywhere yet.”

“But—”

“I’ve waited over a year to wake up next to you. I’m taking my time.”

And just like that, her heartbeat flipped again.

He was staring at her — not with lust, not with nerves — but with that quiet, open gaze that felt… dangerous. In the best way.

“Did it feel real to you?” she asked softly.

His thumb brushed against her hip beneath the blanket. “It feels more than real.”

She swallowed. “I don’t want to overthink this. Or ruin it.

“You’re not,” he said immediately. “I swear.”

There was a pause.

Then he reached up, brushing hair from her face.

“I was scared to see you again,” he admitted. “Backstage, when I first walked in and saw you… I almost lost it. You looked the same. But different.”

“Different how?”

“More… sure of yourself. Even when you ignored me,” he teased, smirking.

She poked his chest. “You deserved it.”

He caught her hand gently, threading their fingers together. “Probably. But I couldn’t stop looking at you. I still can’t.”

Her cheeks burned — and she hated how easy he made her smile.

Then:

“What now?” she asked quietly.

Jungkook didn’t rush to answer. He studied her face like he was memorizing every curve, every freckle, every shade of doubt in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I want to find out. With you.”

And in that moment, it didn’t matter that the world outside was loud, complicated, or unsure.

Because here — in her bed, wrapped in sheets and sleepy affection — they were sure

For now, that was enough.

[dontcallmeelle]

HANS - In your Hands

하나 : Gran Premio de España

In a world where every single step is recorded and analysed by cameras, F1 racer Jeon Jungkook could care less about his reputation, having decided that with the amount of money he has he could buy the silence of everybody, if he wished.

Behind him, there's a girl losing her mind trying to get him to behave, knowing that her job is at risk if she doesn't cover up his mess-ups in time.

What happens when one of the most influential and world recognised racers falls head over heels for his PR manager, who absolutely despises his "I've got it all" attitude and wants nothing more than to keep doing her job in peace?

WORDCOUNT: 3K

CONTAINS: 18+! sex, hooking up (occasionally and not), mentions of blood and paramedics (brief, not too much descriptive), car crashing description (again, not too much detailed)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so... here's chapter one. okay. WOW. literally shaking rn I'm so scared it's gonna flop LMAOOOO. anyway, literally one of the longest pieces I've ever written, lowkey surprised myself. oh, and that thing I said that I wanted to wait until I was working at least on the second half of the story to post chapter 1? yeah, call me a liar cause that's what I am, I literally couldn't resist anymore, especially not when I saw how much "popularity" it was gaining. SO HERE IT ISSSS. I don't wanna spoiler anything so I'll shut up right here. hope you enjoy it and are ready to run a Grand Prix. love you all <3

Jungkook knew that he had the whole world at his feet. And he didn't think it because of a weird god complex whatsoever, but it was kinda hard to not do so when he stood high and tall on the podium, the whole crowd tinted of a bright orange, screaming his name and whipping around McLaren flags. 

For an hour, Jungkook was the owner of the world. 

And it felt so fucking nice.

That was almost three years ago though, and for the next three years, he always ended up on the podium – just as second or third place each time. It didn't matter, as much as he was craving that first place rush, he was happy he could stand on the podium itself.

This time, though? He had to win first place. No ifs, no buts.

He was doing so good already, he could almost feel the weight of the cup in his arms and his skin wet and sticky with champagne as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Just two more races and he would be reborn as F1 World Champion – twice. He could do it: he and Namjoon, his strategist, had studied the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya of the Spanish Grand Prix over and over again, meticulously measuring every variation of speed, every rough corner, obsessing over the track until they became disgusted of the mere thought of sitting down with the map in front of their eyes.

Jungkook trusted Namjoon. He was the mastermind behind all his wins, after all. And he saw it in his eyes, too – that endless thirst of win, the need to see his racer becoming World Champion again. Something was in the air for sure.

Anyway, Jungkook was a... man of needs. He needed his morning coffee to function properly. He needed to jog at least 30 minutes by himself before a race as a way to slip into a focused zone. But, most importantly, he needed to release all of his pent-up stress before sitting down in his race car. 

Which was exactly the reason why he was locked in a stall of the McLaren garage's bathroom, the zip of his suit pulled all the way down to his crotch as he pounded into one of the models' pussy. What was her name again?

"Jungkook, they’re looking for you–"

"They can wait," he snapped back, covering the pretty girl's mouth with his hand, desperately chasing his orgasm. From the outside, someone – probably his other teammate and racer, Jimin – kept yelling his name, followed by "5 minutes left, hurry up!"

A string of profanities left his lips as he felt his body tense up, every fibre getting ready to welcome the long awaited release. The girl in his arms whimpered softly, clearly overstimulated. Eh, he had told her prior that he could last longer than most, and she was the one who said it was no big deal, so it wasn't really his fault if she was trembling now. 

"Fuck!" a groan left his lips as his body finally gave in, filling the condom spurt after spurt. He breathed heavily, chest heaving as he slowly recovered from the post orgasmic bliss. 

"Two minutes! Jungkook, fuck!"

A prayer of "shit shit shit" was whispered in the air, the racer rushing to throw the condom away, zip his suit back up, and go out there like nothing had happened.

As he exited the bathroom, everything blended in a blur of hands grabbing him wherever they could, pushing him against his car– and what a car. Orange, shiny, looking better than ever, ready as much as him to win another Grand Prix. Someone handed him his helmet, urging him to put it on before sitting down in the vehicle. 

As soon as the cold leather touched his suit, it was showtime.

You hated Jungkook.

No, scratch that, you didn't hate the guy per se.

You hated the cocky attitude he carried around everywhere. And you hated the fact that he didn't facilitate your job, at all. Being a PR member is already hard as it is, but being a PR manager? Jungkook's PR manager? Oh baby, hiking on Mount Everest would be easier. 

The kid could not care less about his reputation. It was admirable, really, being unapologetically yourself in a world full of judgement, if it wasn't for the fact that he was a public figure. A well-known one, too. And whose job was it to not let him taint it? Yours, of course.

Teaching foxes how to talk would be less stressful.

"Where the fuck is he?" a sharp voice interrupted your endless thinking, grounding you right in the moment. You whipped your head to the right, watching as a frantic Hoseok walked around the garage to look for their number one driver. 

The McLaren team had three drivers: Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. Usually, it was Jungkook and Jimin who would race, Hoseok was put aside mainly because he was new. Whole team decision, of course.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before sighing heavily, already feeling a growing headache nagging at the back of your head. 

What you didn't know, was that it was bound to get way worse than that. With the corner of your eye you had caught a weird movement, followed by a big commotion. 

Ah, that's where he was. Checks out, actually. Last minute nerves, right?

Yet– something was off. Something was... unusual. Something...

A man tripped not too far from you. Another one screamed at him, threatening to fire him. "Pull yourself together, we're Netflix, for god's sake!

Your heart dropped.

Netflix.

And coming right from the bathroom, you saw a hand. Delicate, long, well groomed. A woman. 

Shit.

You sprinted for the bathroom, running for your life like you've never done before, dodging engineers, mechanics, PR members, anyone who dared to stay in your way. 

You pushed the girl back inside before anyone could see her, slamming the door closed behind you. 

"What–"

"Shh. I'm sorry. I'm Jungkook's PR manager, Y/N. Nice to meet you" you whispered through the whole presentation, your eyes darting from the girl to the door, back to the girl again. You swallowed hard, breathing in and out slowly as the drumming in your ears settled for something less dramatic.

The girl in front of you was... beautiful, to say the least. Tall, clear skin, flawless makeup on. Shoulders and back straight and stretched nicely, her collarbones peeking over her shoulder-less dress. Dark hair framed her slim face, a nice contrast to her blue eyes. Yeah, definitely a model. 

You could almost see it – Jungkook's and this model's faces plastered all over the media, them holding hands and acting like the paparazzi had caught them in a private moment while walking in the streets of some élite class city, probably Monaco. Everything would be piloted by you, of course. There were no caught red-handed moments with you, everything was planned, studied, thought out. 

Oh, if only Jungkook made things this easy for you.

“Oh, uhm…” the girl eyed the spot where your hand touched her arm a couple times, definitely trying to find a polite way to get your hands off her skin. Understandable, anyone with that type of perfectly clear skin would grimace at the view of a woman who has no time for a full eight hours sleep, yet alone pay attention to skincare and stuff, touching what you probably had to work your ass for. Not that Jungkook was any better, by the way, but at least he was rich and handsome, and known enough to be on the same social step as the model in front of you. Hell, he was probably even higher up than her. You pulled your hand back, whispering a rather embarrassed apology.

From the garage, you heard one of the engineers yell, followed by a general roar as Jungkook overtook one of the Ferrari’s drivers. The girl gasped, her body jumping startled. “It’s fine, I– let me see if it’s safe to go out.”

The cold metal of the doorknob kissed the scorching hot skin of your hand as you gently twisted it, opening it just the right amount to peek outside. Your eyes scanned the place, looking out for anyone not dressed in orange and a couple men carrying a camera and a boom microphone.

Her fingers gently tapped your shoulder, peeking over it before softly asking “Is it safe?” in an accent that sounded anything but native. 

You gave one last look around before nodding, opening the door to let the woman through. 

“Wait!” your exclamation stopped her in her tracks. She turned towards you, confusion written all over her face. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Isadora. Isadora Ioannou.” 

The rest of the Grand Prix was spent glued to the screen in the garage, occasionally scribbling down notes in your agenda as ideas for new content popped up in your mind, and downing at least two more shots of espresso. 

However, no matter how hard you tried to engage in other activities, the name of the model kept haunting you. Isadora Ioannou, Isadora Ioannou, Isadora Ioannou. You were sure you had heard that name before, but no matter how hard you focused, you just couldn’t pinpoint when and where. The clock in the garage ticked slowly, its sound buried by the absurdly loud people inside and the echo of the cars’ tires screeching on the hot concrete, reminding you that in a few hours you could retrieve to your room and finally look up her name, maybe while soaking in the bathtub of the fancy hotel the McLaren team had reserved for those flying to Spain with their racers. 

A heavy arm slumped around your shoulders pulled you out of your thoughts and back in the garage, where a rather enthusiastic Namjoon kept yelling to Jungkook over the intercom about the last overtake he just did. You didn’t even need to look up to know whose arm it was, recognising Taehyung’s cologne immediately. You had met him back in college, then life made you part ways before it brought him back in your track. He was one of Jimin’s best friends then, got a place as a member of your PR team almost by luck. Witty, clever with words, sly in a way that made people think twice before opening their mouth in his presence, you just couldn’t let him run away. And so, here he was. “How did the… date go?”

You groaned, throwing your head back in annoyance. “Awful, truly awful. I’ve been with first timer men who knew way more than this dude. Seriously, if I had known about it I wouldn’t have spent so much time getting ready.”

He chuckled, a low sound coming deep from within him. 

Oh, god. You knew that sound far too well for your liking. 

He leaned down, tip of his nose brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered “Wouldn’t have had this problem if you had accepted my suggestion, and you know it.” He pulled back as soon as he came in, raising his other hand to wave at a coworker a couple feet away from you, completely unfazed by the suggestion. 

You sighed, shaking your head softly before slipping your orange headphones on, effectively drowning out any noise other than Jungkook’s heavy breath echoing in his helmet mic and the vroom of sports cars running at 300 km/h.

Back in college, you and Taehyung used to be… friends. Who occasionally fucked. And by occasionally you mean even two times a day hidden in the very back of the library, if you wanted. But still, no more than friends, you didn’t really do “date”. Anyway, the sex was great, the guy used to be fine as hell already back then, and he knew how to make you finish like no other did. Then he moved back to South Korea for his Master’s degree, and when he came back he became your coworker and part of your own team. You couldn’t really sleep with a man who was now “dependent on you”, work wise. It just didn’t feel ethically ok to do so, even though he had made clear more than once that he truly couldn’t care less about it.

“You really think I’d give a fuck about our job positions when I’m buried balls deep inside you? C’mon, Y/N, you know me better than this,” he had begun once, and since then you decided to not bring it up anymore. At least, not until the very end of the season. 

But geez, how you missed having a man who knew what he was doing, especially when work pulled at your every possible string, waiting for you to finally snap.

Of course, no one in the team knew about you two and your past. You weren’t even sure if Jimin knew, and the two boys shared everything with each other. Gossip is quick to spread in the workplace, and you didn’t want anyone to think that Taehyung had access to his position because he had bought it. The guy was genuinely what the team needed. Plus, he had to work even harder than all the others since he was part of both Jungkook’s PR team and Jimin’s one. Thank god Jimin’s PR manager, Jin, grew a great liking of Taehyung soon, and in tandem you both decided to split his workload so that he wouldn’t go into burnout too quickly, too soon. 

Gotta protect the good ones, no?

Anyway, that's how Taehyung ended up being a constant in your day to day life again. Were you complaining? No, but did you wish that the circumstances were different? Absolutely. 

Fuck you, Taehyung, you could have turned down the job offer at least.

Inside the vehicle, Jungkook was breaking out in cold sweat. Just another car before he could proclaim victory. Behind him, Jimin was stuck at a tie point with one of Mercedes racers, the two continuously trying to overtake the other, yet without succeeding. 

If they wanted to win, he was the one who would have to do so. 

Right in front of him, a Red Bull Racing car was just a couple meters away from crossing the finish line.

Not again, not again, he thought, adrenaline kicking high in his body as everything in him screamed for him to just do something. 

“Jungkook!” Namjoon's panicked voice echoed in his helmet, the urgency crystal clear in his voice. “Swerve to the right! Now!” 

Jungkook had no time to think, his hands immediately bending the steering wheel to the right, his car abruptly swerving right as the left tire of the Red Bull car detached itself from the vehicle, rolling on the concrete until it hit the perimeter of the track and then rolled back.

The racer inside the car had no time to react as he was pushed to the side, smashing the pedal to the floor to try and stop his car from killing them both. Loud screeching noises were heard all around, but no matter how hard he tried to brake, his car wouldn’t stop until he finally hit the fences at the side.

Inside Jungkook’s helmet, Yoongi’s voice, one of his engineers, called him back to attention. “He’s fine, just keep going. You’ve got Jimin right behind you, the victory is ours.”

Being part of the McLaren team had its perks, like the continuous paid trips and luxury hotels, but its downs too, like having to watch another human being probably in his early 20s being brutally pushed to the side in a scorching hot car with no power to control its direction, while simultaneously having to celebrate your two drivers making it to the finish line first.

It’s in those bittersweet moments, when everyone else seems to be completely unaffected by the repercussions that other people had to live, that you find yourself asking: are we really doing this? Are we really working for a sport that could end someone’s life in a matter of seconds? Is our team’s victory really that important that we hold no shame in celebration when there’s paramedics all around taking care of another man right in front of everyone’s eyes? 

The garage was full of people screaming, hugging, celebrating Jungkook and Jimin’s victory, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to truly participate in the chaotic celebrations, your eyes fixated on the screen monitor filming the rescue mission of the boy inside the car. You knew him, a barely 20 years old boy with too much determination for his own good. You were sure you would see him again on the track soon, even with a concussion, if needed. You understood him, you knew what it meant to have a passion that kept you going even when the only outcome is heading head-first against a wall at full speed. 

“Here are the champions!” Hobi’s voice resonated inside the garage, and more cheers and whistles and clapping rose in a matter of seconds. Jimin and Jungkook came inside, tired, almost limping, slipping their helmets off with a relieved groan, shaking their heads side to side. Towels were handed to them, and you observed silently as they ran them over their sweaty hair. 

Jimin was almost immediately pulled back by Jin, ready to have him talk to the cameras of god knows what channel. But you stayed back, watching as Jungkook soaked in all the congratulations, the compliments, observed as his ego visibly inflated as honey coated words were fed to him, and he swallowed them whole, one by one.

You sighed, shoulders dropping as you diverted your eyes to the screen again. The car was ruined, its rear part wrecked by the impact, but the boy was taken away, at least. The camera slowly panned to the spot where paramedics had him laying on a hospital stretcher, his team surrounding him to ensure privacy while he had a big cut over his temple cleaned and disinfected, probably getting ready to stitch it back together.

“So? No congratulations for me?”

You didn’t register Jungkook’s teasing voice at first, way too immersed into the scene displayed in front of you. “Hey,” he tried again, morphing his voice into something softer, almost careful. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, gently squeezing you to his body. “He’s gonna be fine. We’ve seen worse, you’ve seen worse.”

A little hum escaped your lips, not too convinced by his words yet. It was true, you had seen worse before, but it still didn’t stop you from thinking, from worrying. Isn’t that what makes a human being different from an animal? The capacity to doubt, to worry, to be stuck in a moment even when the world keeps spinning and life keeps going on. 

“Okay,” you sighed at the end, shrugging your shoulders like you were trying to shake off the icky feeling off your body. You turned around, smiling softly at Jungkook before wrapping him in a hug. “Congratulations, bun”

Jungkook groaned at the nickname, clearly trying to look annoyed, yet failing when he met your smile again. “C’mon, let’s go celebrate,” he announced, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you in the middle of the chaos, “we’re going to Monaco!”

© voitier 2025

find the introduction post here

[dontcallmeelle]

wicked | jjk | m

— summary; in which incubus!jungkook likes to ruin pretty innocent things, and you might just be the perfect target. 

— contents and warnings; smut, demon!jk, religious themes, multiple smut scenes, masturbation, lots of dirty talk, fingering, oral (fem & male receiving), deepthroat/gagging, mouth fucking, big corruption kink!! (the whole point of this fic actually), incubus!Jungkook x inexperienced!reader (not a virgin), dom!jk x sub!reader, thigh riding (mentioned), big demon cock, overstimulation, tit play, hair pulling, frottage, multiple orgasms, cum eating, cum play, creampie(s), jk has a huge dick and lots of cum :), crying kink, degradation but also praise, use of the word “slut”, jungkook is evil!! so there is a bit of gaslighting and manipulation, the complex morals of demon-fucking being swept under the rug in the name of entertainment

— words; 9.1k

— author’s note: this is one long and filthy mess and I have nothing to say to defend myself. By the way, if you’re not keen on corruption kink, you might want to sit this one out because I went a bit feral on it lmao 😬 and jk is a freaking demon!! of course he’s gonna be evil 

Jungkook had always had a preference for the innocent ones. 

It wasn’t something that he had cultivated on purpose, no, it simply started to show in a weird, repetitive pattern that he could not quite define. All that he knew was that innocence was specially fun to break down, to stain with his wicked touch, to watch as it crumbled into an empty shell of what it once was. He searched for it — that inexperience, that angelic confusion — with thundering hunger, plunged his teeth into his prey with unmatched delight once he found it. Paradoxically, Jungkook did not like virgins as much. Strange, he knew. But virgins gave him too much work, which, in the end, often wasn’t fruitful — he noticed that most humans weren’t very interested in losing their virginity to a demon, and, well, it wasn’t because someone was a virgin that they were innocent too, that much he knew. 

And that was always his priority, in the end. 

True innocence was hard to find, and that was the most frustrating part of it all. Throughout all his years roaming the earth in search of souls to corrupt, Jungkook thought he might have encountered that special brand of purity only a handful of times. And yet it was so immaculate, so intoxicating, that it was all that he could think about. 

So, when he finally found you, he thought he was about to lose his mind. 

Every once in a while, the universe would switch around in a way that everything would fall into place. As an immortal being, Jungkook saw that happening time and time again: empires rising and falling, soulmates meeting one another by random chance, the cure of a horrible sickness being discovered by accident. And it was that same incidental energy, probably catalyzed by his ravenous desire, that took him straight to your home. 

Well, perhaps it wasn’t that poetic. But saying that the rebellious teens having a slumber party upstairs had mistakenly summoned him into your apartment complex didn’t exactly have the same impact. 

Keep reading

[dontcallmeelle]

come sit on my lap:

pairing: jungkook x afab! reader

genre: porn without plot || smut || established relationship || non-idol au (?)

tags/ warnings: pwp, mentioned masturbation, thigh riding, dick riding, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid, this is fiction), creampie, mentioned cum stuffing because it didn’t make the cut. afab! reader (no gendered nicknames are used, terms like pussy is used though)

notes: listened to we are bulletproof pt.1 while writing this so do with that information what you will. yoongi’s part has me creaming myself it’s so delicious

notes 2: slight changes have been made from the original plan, otherwise this would have probably been 10k words of straight smut

my full masterlist || archived masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“you’re home early”

jungkook’s gaze flickers to where you’re stood in the doorway of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing. it wasn’t displeasure painted across your face, just curious confusion.

“i missed you” he instead replies, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

you slip further into the room, used to jungkook’s eyes on you. the rawest form of silent appreciation for the living art that stood before him; perfect in such a human way. jungkook never thought he’d find the right words to describe you. not when you looked so pretty, and perfect, and every other lame excuse of a word that was never really enough to encapsulate your entire existence.

his eyes glaze over the flush of your cheeks, sure to have just gotten out the bath. you liked to treat yourself on your days off, slipping into the hazy water, scented with the fancy bubble bath jungkook liked to treat you to.

you meet his gaze, head tilting in a silent question of what he was doing.

“come sit on my lap” he hums, “been thinking about you all day”

it’s neither a sigh nor a laugh that spills from your lips, maybe amusement. maybe love. maybe an unexplainable emotion that you reserved especially for jungkook, and jungkook only.

“yeah?”

and he nods, taking your hand into his own once you’re close enough. he tugs you down, helping you straddle one of his thighs; exactly where he’d wanted you.

he’d been thinking about this all day. how slick your cunt would get, always so easy to rile up. how he wanted to suck meanly on your poor little clit until you cried, and you begged for him to take the barest hint of mercy on you.

the mere thought of you sat in his lap, desperate for him to bring you that mind-numbing pleasure you loved to much— had his cock hardening in his pants.

if he had any lick of shame, then he might have felt guilt for getting himself off in the bathroom during his lunch break. his cock spit-soaked sticky, fist tugging at his length, a pitiful imitation of what your pussy would feel like squeezing his length until he came into his fist.

“so pretty” his hands slip down to your waist, lithe fingers barely grazing underneath your shirt, his chest deflating at the touch of your warm skin.

his thigh flexes, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip out— a flit of pleasure crawling up your body.

and as subtle as you’d like to be, jungkook can’t help the slow smile that pulls at his cheeks. not when he can feel your pussy clenching through your thin sleep shorts.

he wonders how long it’ll take for them to soak through. or how long it’ll take you to beg he run his fingers over your pussy, pressing over your clit. sinking past your walls and pressing meanly over your sweet spot until you’re shaking and begging ever so sweetly.

your hips roll forwards ever so slightly, desperation seeping from every morsel of your body. desperate for the faintest of friction to solve the issue you found yourself facing.

“don’t be shy, baby” jungkook hums, fingers digging into the meat of your hips, “use me”

“don’t say things like that” you whine, hands coming to cover your face, hot embarrassment searing your cheeks the faintest pink.

jungkook’s head tips backwards, low laugh rumbling from his chest. he flexes his thigh, cock throbbing at the moan that gets caught in the back of your throat.

“hands away from your face, come on. you know i love how pretty you look when you feel good” he takes hold of your wrists, tugging your hands to his chest.

your tongue wets your bottom lip as you find your rhythm, hips rocking forward in desperate little circles.

one of your hands slips from jungkook’s hold, thighs straining as you push yourself up. you slide the crotch of your shorts to the side, bare pussy clenching when it come in contact with jungkook’s pants.

“no panties?”

you smile, shaking your head.

you fumble with jungkook’s belt as you rut your hips forward, delicious pleasure spreading up your body with each drag of your clit against his thigh.

“want your cock” you press a kiss to his jaw, warm breath tickling his skin.

“yeah?” his voice comes out breathless.

“mhmm”

jungkook helps you, undoing his button as you push yourself to kneel over this thigh. you moan when his bare skin knocks against your clit, lifting his hips to pull his underwear down, fabric pooling at his ankles as you slip your shorts off.

your fingers wrap around his shaft, spit dribbling from your tongue onto the tip of his cock.

you jolt forwards when curious fingers part your labia, teasing over you hole.

“fuck” you whine when a finger slips into you, curling as a thumb rubs over your clit.

you squeeze his cock, thumbing the underside of the head, smearing the pearly little beads of pre cum down his shaft.

“spit on it, baby” jungkook looks at you through hooded eyes, tongue toying with his lip ring as you bounce ever so slightly on the second finger jungkook slips into your pussy.

you spit into your palm, mind too muddled to cringe at the stickiness that clings to your skin as you curl your fingers back around his cock, wrist flicking how you know he likes it.

“so good for me” he groans, hips bucking up into your hand, “come here”

his fingers slip from your cunt, helping you fully straddle his lap. his cock slides against your thigh, trail of pre cum painting your skin sticky. weird, primal satisfaction buzzing through jungkook’s veins as he marks you up with his leaking arousal.

you take hold of jungkook’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.

“gimme a kiss” you whisper against his lips, “please”

“so polite” he murmurs, tilting his face, lips pillowing yours.

your mouth parts, breathy sigh licked up by jungkook as he presses his tongue past your lips.

blindly you take ahold of his cock, tugging at it once before you line him up with your entrance.

your hips rock forwards, folds parting around his cock. fizzling pleasure vibrating within you with each nudge of his cockhead against your clit.

“don’t tease” his voice comes out low, tongue prodding at your bottom lip. so shiny, a mixture of both your spit mingled and threatening to drip down your chin.

“sorry” you lift your hips up, tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. your hands brace on his shoulders, thighs quivering with each thick inch of jungkook’s cock sliding further between your walls.

“oh fuck” you moan, head falling onto his shoulder as you bottom out.

jungkook’s fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, stomach tightening in pleasure as your walls clench around his cock.

“you okay?” jungkook asks, hips barely rutting up into you.

“yeah, just feels nice” you trail a finger between your bodies, fingers thrumming ever so slightly over your clit.

arousal soaks jungkook’s cock, dribble of slick wetting his balls.

“might get tired though” you tell him as you sit up a little bit, hips rocking forward.

“i’ll help you” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

you hum at that. feeling a twinge of a burn in your thighs as you push yourself up, head of his cock still sheathed within you before you drop back down his full length.

you think the air is punched from your lungs, hand that had been playing with your clit balancing yourself on his knee.

“shit, baby” jungkook groans, pulling you up his cock from your ass, “loosen up a bit”

you shake your head, mouth falling open, a moan cutting you off when his cock knocks against your sweet spot. desperation and adrenaline a fiery combination that has you pushing through the pain in your thighs, pussy swallowing his cock over and over until you’re leaking slick, and jungkook can’t help the moan that spills from his lips.

“jungkook” you cry, “s’ so good”

you feel yourself hurdling closer to an orgasm, each rugged stroke of his cock, and each brutal brush against your sweet spot sending you into overdrive.

“gonna cum?” he asks, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts up into you. merciless and be chases his own high, rutting up into your with a new found vigour that has you hiccuping— nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

you wilt into his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you reach your peak; quickly tumbling down the other side as jungkook’s balls slap wetly against your ass, pleasure fueled moans a harmony with your own.

you feel jungkook’s cock twitch as you ride out your high, cunt creamy leaking down his balls as he cums; coating your walls sticky with his seed.

he ruts up into you once more, hands pulling you down as far as you can on his cock as he empties himself out inside of you. thick pulses of cum spilling into you.

“fuck” his head knocks against the back of the couch, “you’re milking me” he laughs, balls tightening when your walls clench around his softening length.

your chest stutters for a breath, hips twitching at the aftermath of your orgasm.

“you’re insatiable” jungkook licks his bottom lip when you circle your hips. “gonna have to give me a minute to recover”

jungkook lays you back, fumbling around for the small pillows propped up against the arm of the couch. he pulls the bottom half of your body up by your ankles, slipping two pillows under your hips.

“no clenching. and no spilling; i plan to stuff you full tonight” he raises an eyebrow, a silent challenge to disobey.

he runs his fingers through your slit, barely dipping between your walls to push his seed back inside of you.

“think you can do that?”

you nod, “don’t make me cum, otherwise it’s gonna make a mess of the pillows”

“you’ll be making more than a mess of the pillows” his nose scrunches. and you’re unsure if it’s bubbly love that fills your body, possibly a new wave of arousal.

maybe both.

[dontcallmeelle]

when you just wanna FaceTime your boyfriend but he’s playing his lil fighting games 😔

[dontcallmeelle]

Everything is embarrassing (1/2)

pairings : J.JK X FEM! READER - teaser

sypnosis : You thought your first kiss with your long-time crush was straight out of a movie… until you find out it was a dare. But what happens when he starts acting like he meant it.... just not when anyone’s watching?

contents : emotional manipulation, lying by omission, jealousy, first love, dare, violence, heartbreak, comfort, jungkook lowkey down bad, love triangle, rose! sister, namjoon!law student! sis boyfriend, stupidity, popular! jk, unpopular! oc, kind of an asshole/petty! jimin, playing in the beach, sudden kisses, slight making out, mixed signals, biker! jungkook, tell me if i missed more!!

genre : hidden relationship, unrequited love (kind of), slowburn, angst, slice of life, first love, cheating, love triangle, fluff, eventual smut, exes2lovers, jealousy, possesiveness...?, highschool au, first love au

notes : two part fic and it has another one named "he loves me not, he loves me" and that's the present time line where the exes2lovers will actually happen. both parts of this are the flashback but it can also be read as just as it is. inspired by everything is embarrassing by sky fierra, norman fucking rockwell by lana del rey, false god by taylor swift, party 4 u by charli xcx, lovers by anna of the north. okay... it's been awhile since i've written so please spare me.

word count : 8k

05/14/2017

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, everything else just… stopped. Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might actually burst, the kind of pounding that made it impossible to think straight. His dark eyes held yours, steady and unblinking, like they were pulling you in, and you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

He took a step closer, then another, until the space between you seemed to disappear. Your chest felt tight, your palms sweaty, but all you could focus on was him. The way the wind lightly tousled his hair, the way his gaze dropped. slowly, deliberately, to your lips.

And then it happened.

His lips pressed softly against yours, and for a second, you froze. Time stood still, the world fell silent, and it was just you two. Your breath caught, your mind raced. was this really happening? But when you felt the warmth of his lips move gently against yours, all that nervous energy melted into something softer, something warmer.

It was sweet and a little hesitant, like you were both trying to figure this out together. He sucked gently on your upper lip, and you shyly returned the kiss, your heart flipping over itself with every second. It felt like fireworks and butterflies and free falling all at once, everything you’d ever imagined and more.

When he finally pulled back, your whole body was buzzing. You were lightheaded, breathless, and completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. His lips were a little swollen, his cheeks slightly flushed as he smiled at you.

“Are you blushing?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing.

You couldn’t even speak. Your cheeks burned, and you could feel the heat spreading all the way to your ears.

“You’re so cute,” he said, letting out a soft laugh, and your insides went wild.

This was it. the moment you’d dreamed about for so long. The kiss, the timing, the way the breeze danced around you, it was perfect. It was everything. Your first kiss with Jungkook, your long. time crush, and it couldn’t have been more magical.

You wanted to kiss him again, but your chest was already so full of emotions you thought it might explode. So you just stood there, staring at him with a smile you couldn’t hold back, and hoped he could see just how much that moment meant to you.

You wanted to kiss him again, but you’re afraid of what more could happen, so you just stood there, staring at him with a smile you couldn’t hold back, and just hoped he was as genuine as you were, as the truth that speaks louder in the silence between you.

“Hey, Jungkook!” Jimin yells, almost laughing as he calls him back, snapping him out of the moment. Jungkook quickly drops his hands from your waist to his sides.

“Oh- uh, I gotta go…” he mumbles, lips curling into a smile before walking off to join his friends. You wave him off, fingers brushing your lips, eyes still lit up like you can still feel his kiss lingering there.

Later that night, you're curled up in your room, watching your favorite movie Flipped, that same soft smile still stuck on your face since earlier.

“Heeyyy…” You quickly pause the TV at the sound of your sister’s voice. Rose steps in with her usual teasing grin.

“Hey- hi!” you reply quickly, the glow still written all over your face.

“Heard someone got her first kiss today... and by her crush!” she squeals, plopping down at the edge of your bed with her signature smirk.

“Well… yeah,” you admit, eyes dropping shyly to your lap, your hands fidgeting.

“My lil’ sis is not so lil’ anymore,” she pouts playfully. “Did you like it, though?”

“Like it?” your voice drops to a whisper before you beam. “I loved it.”

Suddenly, you notice your mom in the doorway, laundry in her arms, curiosity in her eyes. “Our Y/N-ie got her first kiss?” she gasps, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Oh gosh… please don’t tell your dad. He might set up a full-on interrogation.”

You giggle, and both your mom and sister join in. “He definitely will,” Rose laughs. “That’s what he did with Namjoon...”

You all laugh, thinking back to that day. Namjoon standing awkwardly in the living room, dressed like he was heading into a board meeting. White button-up, a tie, blazer and trousers… honestly, a smart choice to meet your dad.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” your dad asked, arms crossed, his voice deep and serious.

“Uhm... I- I have no bad intentions with your daughter, sir… I want to be her boyfriend,” Namjoon replied, his hands fidgeting under the table, leg bouncing nervously.

“Interesting choice of words, Namjoon.” Your dad leaned back slightly. Namjoon blinked, unsure if he passed or failed.

“What’s your major?”

“Poli sci, sir…”

“And your dream job?”

“Im going to be a lawyer.”

Your dad finally smiled, relaxing into his chair. “Good to know at least my daughter knows how to pick men.”

“And I hope you won’t be one of her boytoys,” he added with a grin, throwing a glance toward Rose, who groaned and burst into laughter with you.

Now, sitting beside you again, Rose nudges your side. “Guess it’s your turn now…”

“I… I don’t even know if he likes me back,” you admit softly, your fingers fiddling with your sleeves.

“Oh dear,” your mom says, sitting on the bed beside you. “A boy who kisses you like that? How could he not like you?”

“Plus,” Rose adds, “you’re smart, you’re pretty, and you’re so thoughtful and understanding.”

“I don’t know… I just… I’m scared,” you whisper.

“And why is that?” Rose asks, still smiling.

“It’s my first love, you know? I still cry watching romcoms... Am I even ready for love?”

Your mom reaches out, gently holding your hand. “You don’t need to rush it. But if you ever choose him... just remember this.” She glances at Rose with a soft smile. “I told your sister this when she got her first kiss, and now it’s your turn.”

She squeezes your hand gently. “it’s not love if you question it. If a boy makes you wonder whether he loves you or not- it’s not love. Don’t settle. Just leave. Choose yourself and choose what you’re feeling.”

Her smile deepens. “If a man really loves you, he’ll show you, let you feel it, let you hear it. Remember that.”

You sit there, cross-legged on the bed, quiet in thought as the warmth of their words wraps around you.

“I won’t bother your romcom time anymore,” Rose says, standing. “Come on, mom.”

They leave the room with soft smiles and full hearts, closing the door behind them.

And yet... your mind still drifts back to him.

The kiss.

You felt a kiss

You shushed the voices in your head full of questions… “it’s just a kiss… i shouldn’t… question it anymore- that’s already the answer..” i think to myself smiling.

The next day you were walking in the hallways of the school as you walk past by Jungkook alone.

“Hey!” he comes closer to you, his hands inside his pockets as if to ground himself.

“Hey!” you smile shyly and awkwardly, lips pressed together.

“So… we alright?” he asks, offering his hand for a handshake.

I didn't know whether I was dreaming or not.

“Sure…” I breathe out, accepting his handshake, staying there frozen in place, grinning ear to ear. Everything zooming out but Jungkook, who was right in front of me.

“Kook!-oh…” Jimin calls Jungkook, snapping me back to reality. Why does Jimin have to ruin everything?? Every time??

Jimin’s smile fades slowly, glancing at me and Jungkook’s hands together.

“Uh-” Jimin clears his throat. “The guys are calling you… and-” he looks at me before walking away with Jungkook. “Nothing…” Jimin mumbles under his breath as they both walk away, leaving me there, my hands waving at the air like a fucking weirdo until I felt someone tap my shoulder, startling me.

“God! Jihyo! You- you can’t just scare me like that!” I exclaim as she looks at me confused.

“Okay… why did I just see you with the Jeon Jungkook?” she teases, chuckling.

“Stop it! He might hear you…” I shush her up as we head to class.

-

You open your locker slower than usual, fingers tracing the edge of your books, your mind still stuck on that handshake. That tiny, stupid handshake. Why was it kind of cute?? Why was it playing on repeat in your head like a song you didn’t even mean to like??

You stuff your things in your bag, walking toward the gates when you spot him… Jungkook. alone, leaned back against the brick wall, one foot resting behind him like he’s in a magazine ad or something.

What. Is. Life.

He glances up, catching your eye, and- oh god… he smiles.

You feel your brain short-circuit as he walks up to you, backpack lazily hanging off one shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, voice low like it’s a secret.

“Hey,” you reply, heart pounding again. It needs to calm down.

“You uh… taking the bus?” he asks, almost too casually.

“No, waiting for my sister,” you say, not realizing your voice dropped too soft, too quick.

He nods, then just… stands there. Right next to you. No words, no movement, just… breathing.

You don’t even know what to do with your arms.

“I had fun… yesterday,” he says after a beat, looking straight ahead.

You blink. “What?”

He looks at you now. “The kiss. It was nice.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. Like he didn’t just launch you into mars with that sentence.

“Oh,” you say, trying not to combust. “Yeah… me too...

Then it’s silent again. He shuffles a bit, kicking at the gravel.

“Maybe we could… hang out sometime?” he says, not looking at you. “Like just us.”

You swear your soul left your body.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

He nods, then turns around and walks off like he didn’t just casually throw that out there and walk away like a movie character. You just stand there, frozen. Eyes wide. Still. Processing.

Your phone buzzes. Rose is here.

You walk toward the car, legs jelly, stomach upside down. You slide into the passenger seat and Rose raises a brow at you.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You stare straight ahead. “I think I just got asked out. Kind of. Not really. I don’t even know.”

She chuckles. “Teenage girl problems.”

You smile, biting your lip. “Best kind of problems.”

-

The next few days passes by… you two started whispering “hey”s between desks. Nothing official, nothing loud. Just glances. Just stolen little things that feel bigger than they are.

Today, it was a shared smile across the cafeteria.

Yesterday, it was him brushing past you and whispering, “You smell good.”

The day before that, he texted you a heart. Just a heart. No context.

You screen-recorded it anyway.

okay… can you blame me??

It’s Friday now. After school. Rose had to stay late for some club thing with namjoon and your parents are out, so you’re just… walking. You don’t even know where. And you ended up near the basketball court… mostly empty except for a few guys tossing a ball around.

You’re about to turn back when you hear your name.

“Y/N!”

You blink.

It’s Jungkook.

Of course it is.

He jogs over, hair a little messy, hoodie tied around his waist, that one strand of hair falling over his eyes like he’s in some kind of daydream.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, still catching his breath.

You shrug. “Just walking. Rose ditched me.”

He smiles. “Come sit?”

And like you even had the strength to say no.

So you follow him, sitting on the far end of the court, away from everyone. The sun’s setting, warm and gold and a little too romantic for your own good. He tosses his water bottle down and stretches out his legs like he owns the sky.

He looks at you. “You ever think about leaving?”

You turn to him. “Leaving?”

“Yeah… like, just getting out of here. Going somewhere far. Starting fresh.”

You pause. “All the time.”

He hums. “Same.”

Silence.

“I like this,” he says suddenly.

You turn your head, blinking. “What?”

“This,” he repeats, nodding toward you. “Talking to you. Being with you. It’s easy.”

You don’t even know what to say. You’re trying not to stare too hard, not to read too much into it. But your heart is racing anyway.

He nudges your shoulder lightly. “Don’t overthink it.”

Too late.

You smile instead. “I won’t.”

But you will. God, you will

You just sit there for a while, quiet, watching the way the sky changes. You don’t say anything else because you don’t know what else to say. Your brain’s just looping “I like this” in his voice over and over and over.

And then you feel it.

His pinky brushes against yours.

You swear you almost forget how to breathe.

He doesn’t grab your hand or anything… just lets his pinky rest next to yours, barely touching. And it’s stupid. It’s so small. But you feel like you might melt right into the concrete.

You sneak a glance at him, and he’s not even looking at you. Just sipping water like it’s nothing. Like your heart isn’t trying to claw out of your chest.

“Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” he asks, like it’s casual. Like it’s just… something people say.

“Like- hang out?” you repeat, immediately wanting to hit yourself.

He chuckles. “Yeah. You. Me. Something chill.”

You nod way too fast. “Yeah. Sure. Chill.”

Cool. Casual. Chill. What even is chill.

“Cool,” he says, and then he stands up, dusting his pants off, like you didn’t just share the most emotionally overwhelming moment of your entire life.

He picks up his bottle, slings his hoodie over his shoulder, and looks at you again.

“I’ll text you,” he says with a little grin.

You just sit there like a mannequin, nodding, lips pressed together like if you open your mouth you’ll say something stupid like “I’m naming our future children in my head.”

maybe jun-ho would be nice… or lila? okay… i should stop.

When he walks away, you wait a full ten seconds before letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. And then you lay back on the court, arms sprawled out, heart going completely feral.

What the hell was that.

What is this.

What is happening.

And why do you feel like you’re floating and dying at the same time.

This has to be what first love feels like.

Right?

BAM!

A basketball hits you square on the leg.

You jolt up, nearly falling sideways, blinking at the sudden reality check.

“Shit- sorry!” one of the guys on the court yells, jogging over to grab the ball.

You wave him off, cheeks warm, laughing awkwardly. “It’s okay!”

As if the universe really said ‘snap out of it, girl.’

You dust yourself off, pick up your bag, and start heading home. still slightly dazed. Every few steps you keep glancing at your phone like it might magically light up. And then it actually does.

But it’s just your sister. Outside.

Later that night, you’re in bed. In your comfiest shirt. Lying there staring at the ceiling like an idiot. A smile stuck to your face like it's glued on.

You can’t even explain it.

It’s not just happiness. It’s more like… this floaty feeling in your chest. Like your heart is blushing. Like you’re glowing from the inside out.

Your stomach flips every time you replay it in your head. Every word. Every look. Every almost.

There’s no better way to put it.

You feel like you're falling.

Your phone buzzes.

You sit up way too fast.

jeon jungkook: you home yet?

You stare at the screen for a second before replying. Don’t be weird. Don’t be weird.

you: yeah just got in bed lol

A pause. Then:

jeon jungkook: i had fun talking to you today.

you: me too :’)

He starts typing. Stops. Starts again. You stare at the dots like they owe you something.

jeon jungkook: you’re really easy to talk to. i like that.

Your heart goes crazy. Like full-blown fireworks-in-your-throat kind of crazy.

you: aw… really? i was so nervous the whole time lol

jeon jungkook: why nervous?

you: idk. it’s you.

jeon jungkook: is that a good thing or a bad thing lol

you: good. i think. i don’t know.

You bury your face in your pillow. You’re gonna combust.

jeon jungkook: you’re cute when you’re awkward

you: i’m always awkward

jeon jungkook: yeah so you’re always cute then

You stop breathing for a second. You literally stop breathing.

you: shut uppp 😭

He sends a laughing emoji. Then a heart. Just one.

You screenshot it immediately and pretend you didn’t.

Then the texts keep coming:

You talk about random things.

Childhood. Songs you like. Teachers you both hate.

He tells you his favorite movie is Spirited Away because “the music makes everything feel like a dream.”

You tell him you cried watching A Silent Voice.

He tells you he cried too.

You pretend not to be shocked by that.

jeon jungkook: do you believe in soulmates?

You stare at that one for a long time.

you: idk. maybe. do you?

jeon jungkook: yeah. not always in a romantic way though.

you: what do you mean?

jeon jungkook: like some people are just meant to pass through your life and change you. even if they don’t stay.

You read it three times.

You don’t know what to say, so you just send:

you: that’s actually really beautiful.

jeon jungkook: yeah

You stare at your phone. Blinking. Breathing way too hard. What does that even mean. What are you supposed to do with that.

You don’t reply right away. You can’t. So you send:

you: you’re confusing sometimes

jeon jungkook: i know. i confuse myself too

And that feels like the most honest thing he’s said all night.

The clock says 2:43 AM.

you: we should sleep

jeon jungkook: probably lol

jeon jungkook: but i don’t really want to

You smile at your screen like a loser.

you: same

jeon jungkook: goodnight y/n

jeon jungkook: for real this time

you: goodnight jungkook

❤️

You turn your phone off and hug it to your chest. Your face is burning. Your heart won’t sit still.

It’s too much. But it’s also not enough.

Whatever this is…

You're already too deep.

You weren’t sure what to expect.

the next day he just texted “pick you up at 8. wear something cute.”

You stared at your closet for a full hour.

In the end, you went with a white fitted shirt, a brown plaid mini skirt.

Tights. Small boots. Just enough makeup just to look pretty for him.

You wrap your arms around yourself when the wind hits your arms. It’s cold. Of course it’s cold.

And then you hear the soft hum of an engine pulling up outside.

You peek through the blinds.

Motorbike, Of course.

You step out into the night, pulling your sleeves down even though it doesn’t help.

Jungkook takes one look at you and blinks. Like his brain short-circuits for a second.

“Damn,” he says under his breath.

You raise a brow, smirking slightly. “What?”

“You look good,” he mutters, shaking his head like he’s trying to snap out of it.

Then he notices you hugging yourself and sighs.

“Here.”

He shrugs off his black bomber jacket and hands it to you. “You’ll freeze otherwise.”

You hesitate, just for a second.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I’ll survive.”

You slide it on. It’s warm. Smells like him. You try not to think about it too much.

He helps you onto the back of his bike, tells you to hold on tight. You do.

The ride is fast, loud, freezing, but all you can think about is the way his jacket wraps around you like a second skin.

You expect somewhere quiet. Maybe a view. A late night walk. Something... small.

But then the neon lights hit your eyes.

A club. a fucking club.

Your heart drops just a little.

“This is it,” he says, grinning.

You force a smile. “Cool.”

You step inside and it’s already too much. The lights. The sweat. The sound. You’ve been to a club before but it’s not your thing. And this… isn’t what you expected.

You thought it was gonna be just you two.

Like he said.

And then you see them.

Taehyung, and jimin

Jimin glances over the rim of his glass when he sees you.

He doesn’t say anything. Just stares.

You look away first.

Taehyung waves Jungkook over and suddenly you’re left standing near the bar, still in his jacket, trying not to look like you feel out of place.

Jungkook turns to you. “You want anything to drink?”

You nod, even though you’re not sure what you want.

You just don’t want to feel this.

You thought this night was gonna feel special. Quiet. Yours.

Instead, it feels like an afterthought.

Jimin passes by again, brushing past you, and for a second your eyes meet.

There’s something there. Something unspoken.

But he just downs his drink and keeps walking.

You hold onto your glass tighter. Sip slower. Try to convince yourself this is fine.

That you’re fine.

This wasn’t the first time you drank.

It’s just the first time it tasted more like disappointment than anything else.

The music gets louder. Or maybe your head just feels heavier.

You swirl your straw around the melting ice in your drink, trying to ground yourself, trying not to look like you’re checking the door every two minutes.

Jungkook’s across the room now. laughing with Taehyung about something, Jimin sitting between them like a ghost.

You catch Jungkook’s eyes for a second and smile softly.

He smiles back. But it’s not the kind that reaches his eyes.

It’s quick. Too quick.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. Fifteen minutes? Twenty? The drink’s warm now. Your tights feel itchy. His jacket is still draped around you like a safety blanket, but even that’s starting to feel a little heavy.

Then suddenly he’s back. Right in front of you.

“You good?” he asks, voice low.

You nod way too fast. “Yeah. Mhm. Just- loud in here.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second. Just looks at you.

Really looks.

And then without a word, he turns and walks back to the booth. Grabs his stuff. His phone. His keys.

Leans down to Taehyung. “We’re heading out.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow but just nods.

Jimin doesn’t say anything at first, just lifts his head lazily from Taehyung’s shoulder and blinks at you.

Then his eyes drop to the jacket you’re still wearing.

Jungkook’s jacket.

And it’s like something shifts in his expression for a split second before he looks away again.

“Come on,” Jungkook says, holding his hand out for your drink so he can toss it. “Let’s go.”

You stand up slowly, heartbeat too loud in your chest. You’re not even sure why. It’s not like you asked him to leave. But he noticed. And he left with you.

Outside, the cold air hits your legs instantly and you hug the jacket closer to your body, biting the inside of your cheek as you walk with him toward the bike.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you ask softly, looking up at him. “I mean… we both drank…”

He swings a leg over the bike and glances back at you, that half-grin forming again. “I’m fine. I didn’t drink that much. You okay getting on?”

You nod, trying not to look too excited.

You’re still not used to the way your heart acts around him. Like it’s permanently offbeat.

You wrap your arms around his waist again as he starts the bike, the sound of the engine low and steady. The wind is cold, sharp against your skin, but the warmth of his jacket helps. The ride is quieter this time. Less thrill, more calm. You lean your cheek against his back and close your eyes for a second.

You don’t even realize where you’re going until the sound changes.

Until it’s quieter, No music, No cars.

Just waves.

He parks near the edge of a small, rocky path that leads down to the beach. It’s dark, but the moon’s bright enough to light the way.

He helps you off the bike and nods toward the sand.

“Come on.”

You hesitate, then follow him down.

The beach is empty. Of course it is.

No one else thought to come here tonight.

You slip off your boots at the edge of the sand, carrying them by the straps as you walk. The wind tugs at your hair, cold and sharp, but it feels better here. You feel lighter. Freer.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything at first. Just walks with you. A little ahead. A little beside.

Then he drops down in the sand and pats the spot next to him.

You sit. Hug your knees. The bomber jacket feels huge on you now. You let it.

“Didn’t think clubs were your thing,” he says suddenly, gaze on the water.

You blink. “They’re not.”

He lets out a breath, almost like a laugh. “Should’ve figured.”

You don’t answer right away. Just watch the waves roll in and out. You wish you could bottle this moment. This feeling. It’s nothing big. Just quiet. But it feels like everything.

“I just thought maybe… you’d like it,” he adds. “The noise. The energy.”

“I like this better,” you say, almost in a whisper.

He glances over.

You glance down.

He picks up a handful of sand and lets it fall between his fingers. “Next time, I’ll ask first.”

You smile. “Next time?”

He smirks. “If you want.”

You nod. “Yeah. I do.”

It’s silent again. But it’s not awkward. It’s the kind of silence that makes your chest feel full.

You’re still hugging your knees when he looks at you again. Really looks.

“You’re different,” he says.

Your brows knit. “Different?”

He nods, slow. “Not in a bad way. Just… I don’t know. You make everything feel slower.”

You try not to read too much into it. But your heart’s already holding onto every word.

“You make everything feel like… not everything has to be loud all the time,” he says.

You don’t know what to say to that. So you just whisper, “You do too.”

He leans back on his elbows, legs stretched out, face tilted toward the stars.

You lean beside him.

And for a while, neither of you say anything. You just listen to the ocean. The wind. The sound of being somewhere that isn’t pretending.

The breeze picks up, brushing over your legs, and you shiver just a little, hugging your knees closer.

You glance over at Jungkook. He’s still leaned back, eyes on the stars like he’s trying to memorize something. The quiet stretches, but not in a bad way. Just… in a way that feels like breathing.

Your gaze shifts to the shoreline. waves rolling in slow and lazy. The kind of waves that ask to be touched.

Your legs itch to move. The tights are starting to feel weird and clingy, and honestly? You just want to feel the water.

You sit up, slipping off the jacket for just a second to pull at the waistband of your tights. You wiggle out of them awkwardly, trying to be subtle, but Jungkook notices. He blinks, then laughs softly.

“You stripping already?” he teases, raising a brow.

You throw your tights at him. “Shut up.”

He catches them and holds them up like a trophy. “Damn. First my jacket, now this?”

You roll your eyes, standing barefoot in the sand. “I just wanna feel the water.”

“You’re gonna freeze.”

“Then I’ll blame you,” you say, already stepping toward the waves, the cold sand squishing under your toes.

He watches you for a second, amused. “You’re actually serious.”

You glance back over your shoulder. “You coming or what?”

And that’s all it takes.

He stands up, kicks off his shoes, jogs toward you with that stupid grin, and suddenly you’re both running toward the shoreline like kids.

The water hits your ankles and it’s so cold you scream, backing up instinctively, but laughing the whole time.

Jungkook charges forward, splashing into it like a maniac. “Come on, it’s not that bad!”

“You’re insane,” you laugh, hugging yourself.

He turns to face you, water swirling around his legs, hair messy from the wind. “Just try it.”

You take a shaky breath, then run in anyway. squealing as the cold hits your skin, hands flailing as you splash toward him.

You don’t know how long you stay out there. Ten minutes? Twenty? The cold stops mattering. You’re wet, laughing, breathless, and everything feels like it’s glowing from the inside out.

At one point he reaches for your hand, spinning you around, your feet sinking into the sand as you laugh too hard to care how ridiculous you look.

Then he lets go. too fast, and you stumble forward, catching yourself on his chest.

For a second, neither of you move.

His hands come up, gently holding your arms.

Your breath catches.

Your fingers curl into his shirt without meaning to.

You look up and He looks down at you.

It’s quiet again and your heart does that thing where it feels too full.

But then he pulls away, rubbing the back of his neck with a soft laugh. “You’re freezing.”

You sniff, pretending you’re not disappointed. “It’s fine. I’m used to poor life decisions.”

He laughs, and you both trudge back to the sand, wet and cold and completely alive.

Eventually, the cold starts to sink into your skin again. the kind that makes your fingertips sting a little. You both stop talking. You’re just sitting there, his jacket wrapped around you like a hug you didn’t know you needed.

“We should probably head back,” Jungkook says, his voice quieter now.

You nod slowly. You don’t want the night to end. But your legs are still wet and freezing, and the stars won’t wait forever.

By the time you’re back at the bike, your tights are still bunched up in your bag. You awkwardly try to put them back on, stumbling a little as you hop around on one foot.

“Here,” Jungkook says, crouching down in front of you. “Let me.”

He helps you with your boots carefully pulling them on over your tights like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are warm. Steady.

You don’t say anything. You just watch him. Memorize the way his brows furrow slightly when he’s focused. The way he doesn’t say a word, just helps.

Once you're back on the bike, your hands grip his jacket tight around your waist. You think he’s going to ask for it back once you get home.

But he doesn’t.

The ride is quiet. The kind of quiet that fills you up instead of making you feel alone.

When you pull into your driveway, the porch light is still off, but another car is parked nearby.

You squint.

It’s Namjoon’s car.

You barely step off the bike before the front door opens.

Namjoon and Rose are just getting home.

He’s in one of his classic boyfriend-material outfits. button-up, cardigan, black jeans.

She’s in a mini skirt, of course.

Wearing skirts runs in your blood, apparently.

They both pause in the driveway, watching.

Jungkook steps closer to you, hands still in his pockets.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he says softly.

And before you can reply, he leans in. presses the softest, warmest kiss to your cheek.

Then one on your lips. Gentle. Like a promise.

Your heart absolutely cracks.

“Goodnight,” he says. A little smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

You just stand there. Completely still.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

Rose doesn’t even hide her smirk.

Jungkook gets back on his bike, gives you one last look, then drives off. his tail light fading down the street like the ending to a movie.

You’re still standing there, frozen, your fingers gripping the hem of the bomber jacket like it’s holding you together.

Your other hand comes up to your mouth, trying to hide your smile.

But it’s no use.

It’s already spilling out.

You wake up with your phone still in your hand. Screen dark, battery almost dead. But the second you plug it in, it lights up:

jeon jungkook: home safe :) sleep well, y/n.

You don’t even answer right away. You just stare at it, blinking slowly, your heart doing flips under your blanket.

You can still feel where he kissed you.

You can still smell the ocean.

You can still feel his jacket around your shoulders like it belongs there.

Everything feels light. Too light. Like you’re floating.

You hug your pillow and let out the softest, most embarrassing squeal into it. Quiet enough not to wake anyone. Loud enough to feel it in your toes.

You sit in the backseat of Namjoon’s car, legs crossed, chin resting against your hand, eyes staring out the window like you’re in a music video. The bomber jacket is still on. of course it is. You didn’t even think about leaving it at home.

Rose turns around from the passenger seat, eyebrows already raised, and you can feel her staring at you.

“So…” she says, dragging out the word. “You and lover boy disappeared last night.”

You blink slowly. “We just… left early.”

“Right,” she says, smirking. “Early. Sure.”

Namjoon glances at you through the rearview mirror. “Was that a kiss I saw at the doorstep?”

Your mouth opens and closes. “I-”

“She had that look, Joon,” Rose says, turning back around, kicking her feet up on the dash like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “The 'I got kissed and I feel like im in a romcom movie' look.”

You bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god.”

Namjoon chuckles. “Just saying. Looked like a goodnight kiss to me.”

“It was,” Rose sings. “On the lips. Like real kiss. Not a high school cheek-peck. We saw everything.”

“You guys are literally the worst,” you mumble.

“Correction,” Rose says, turning back to look at you again, “I’m your older sister. This is in the job description.”

You pull the jacket tighter around you. “Can we not make this a thing, please?”

Namjoon laughs under his breath. “Too late.”

Rose tilts her head, softening just a little. “So? Are you okay?”

You blink. “What?”

“Just making sure,” she says. “You know. That this feels good. That it feels right.”

You pause.

It does.

At least… it did.

You nod slowly. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Rose studies you for a second longer before smiling. “Good. You deserve the slow, sweet kind of love, okay? Don’t let some boy turn it into chaos.”

Namjoon hums. “Says the girl who made me wait four months before letting me hold her hand.”

“Character development,” she says simply, then turns around again.

You rest your head against the window, jacket zipped up to your chin.

Still warm.

Still smelling like salt and safety and something that almost feels like love.

Namjoon pulls up in front of school, the engine idling.

“Text me if you want a ride home,” Rose says, waving lazily.

You smile, grabbing your bag. “Thanks. Love you.”

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Namjoon calls out just as you shut the door.

You walk into school with your heart in your throat and his jacket on your shoulders.

You carry the bomber jacket all morning like it weighs something more than it should.

Folded neatly over your arm, pressed against your side, still warm somehow. You didn’t wear it today. part of you thought maybe he’d want it back. That maybe you’d see him, smile, hand it over, and he’d say something like “Keep it a little longer.”

But you haven’t seen him yet.

Not really.

You did see the back of his head in the courtyard before first period.

He was with a bunch of people. Loud. Laughing.

You walked a little faster. Heart picking up.

“Jungkook!”

You said it loud enough for him to hear.

You swear you did.

But he didn’t turn around.

Didn’t look.

Didn’t even pause.

And you stood there for a second, jacket clutched to your chest, like maybe someone had pressed pause on your life.

Then you shook it off.

Maybe he didn’t hear you, Maybe it was just too loud.

Maybe.

Later, you were walking into the gym, jacket in hand, when you spotted Jungkook near the basket.

“Hey!” you waved, lifting the bomber jacket slightly in greeting.

Without missing a beat, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips before even saying hi.

You swear your heart dropped right into your stomach. soft and heavy and fluttering all at once.

“Are you sure you want me to keep this…?” you asked, holding the jacket up.

“Mhm… want you to keep it. Looks good on you,” he smiled, taking it gently from your hands just to slip it back over your shoulders himself. His hands rested there for a moment, patting them softly, like he was really taking in the sight.

“Wanna stay here in the gym for a bit?” he asked, already sitting down and patting the floor beside him.

And of course you do.

You sit, legs stretched out beside his, still warm in his jacket, still trying to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest.

“I really liked last night…” he says after a second, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

“I liked it too…” you smile back, cheeks already heating up.

But then

Jimin.

You didn’t notice him until he was already there, grabbing a ball from the basket. You were too caught up in everything right in front of you. Too caught up in Jungkook. How can you notice him when the jeon jungkook is right infront of you??

Jimin’s gaze lingered. Longer than it should’ve.

Maybe he was wondering what it would be like if he were in Jungkook’s place.

Or maybe he was thinking about how you’d react if you ever found out the truth.

That your first kiss… was a dare.

Maybe this whole thing still is.

But that’s up to Jungkook. If he means it.

And Jimin… he knows the truth.

After all he’s the one who dared him in the first place anyway.

Before Jungkook could even pull you in again, Jimin had already turned and walked out fast, like he couldn’t take it.

But you didn’t notice that either.

Because all you could feel was Jungkook. His hands. His mouth.

Everything around you slowed the second he pressed his lips back onto yours. One hand behind your head, the other sliding down to your waist, pulling you into him. And you kissed him back, a little braver this time—tongue brushing against his, soft, slow, just testing.

He let you.

He opened his lips more, let you take control.

He reached for your hand on the floor and brought it to his neck, making you wrap your arms around him. Pulling you closer. Closer. Until you could barely breathe.

“Mmm…” You let a soft moan slip out, couldn’t help it—and it sent a shiver down his spine.

To him, this didn’t feel like a dare anymore.

He was starting to know you, Starting to like you.

And deep down, he hoped this could actually last.

You pulled away first, lips red, chest heaving, heart wild.

“I-” you started, barely able to speak.

But Jungkook only smiled, cupping your face gently in his hands.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispered, giving you one last peck on the lips before getting up, leaving you there on the gym floor. flushed and grinning like an idiot.

You bit your lip to stop from smiling too hard.

Too late. You were already in deep.

You stood up on wobbly legs, your whole body jelly, like you could melt through the floor and disappear.

But of course, right as you were about to sneak out, your PE teacher caught you.

“Y/N. What are you doing here during class?”

You blinked. “I… I was just-”

“Detention.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, already pulling out your phone.

you: hey so i’m in detention… no need to pick me up today

you: don’t wanna take your time

kookcutie: you have my time y/n, i’ll wait :)

you: really?

kookcutie: of course. just text me when detention’s done okay?

you: thanks kook! :)

You pause before sending it. Typing out the nickname.

Testing it out.

kookcutie: ❤️

You shut your phone, pressing it to your chest.

Everything felt louder. Brighter.

Like the whole world was glowing from the inside out.

“Fucking hell, no,” Jimin mutters to the our english teacher.

“What was that?” she snaps.

“What- I didn’t even say it to you!” Jimin exclaims.

“I don’t like those words in my presence, Jimin. You know that.”

Jimin groans. “Fine.”

Later, you’re already in the detention room, slumped in the chair, your head on the desk, Jungkook’s jacket bunched up under your cheek like a makeshift pillow. You stare out the window, the sun starting to dip.

And then the door opens.

You lift your head slowly.

And Jimin walks in.

You don’t look up when the door clicks shut. You already know who it is.

Jimin drops into the seat a few desks over like the whole world’s annoying him. The room’s quiet except for the soft hum of the old overhead lights and the occasional squeak of his shoe against the tile.

You keep your eyes on the window. Try to pretend the jacket under your cheek doesn’t still smell like ocean and Jungkook and something that felt real just hours ago.

Then you hear it.

“You and Jungkook a thing now?”

His voice is dry. Flat. Laced with something that sounds like mockery… and maybe jealousyy

You glance up slowly. “What?”

He scoffs under his breath, arms crossed like the whole situation is funny. “Didn’t take you long.”

You blink, sitting up straight now, jacket slipping off your shoulder slightly. “Why are you-”

“I mean,” he interrupts, leaning back in his chair like this is all so casual, “he kissed you once and now you’re wearing his jacket like you’re his girl or something.”

Your heart lurches. You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

Jimin shrugs. “Whatever. Guess he’s good at pretending.”

That stings. Sharp.

“What’s your problem?” you ask, quietly.

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just bitterness.

“You do know that first kiss was a dare, right?”

And just like that… Everything inside you goes still.

Like time stops. Like someone hit pause on your chest.

You stare at him. And he just looks back, arms still crossed, jaw tight.

You try to say something. Anything. But the words won’t come.

“I mean…” Jimin continues, eyes dropping for a second, “you really thought it was real?”

You don’t respond. Because if you do, you’ll break. Right here. Right now.

You turn your face away, blinking fast. Your hands clutch at the edge of the jacket on your lap. His jacket. The one he told you to keep. The one he kissed you in.

“He didn’t tell you?” Jimin says quieter now. “Of course he didn’t.”

You still don’t speak.

Because how could you?

You feel it. The cold. The ache. That slow, sinking feeling like you’ve just been pulled underwater without warning.

You press your lips together and nod once. Not because you're okay. Just because you want him to stop.

Jimin lets out a slow breath. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s regret. But he doesn’t take it back.

“Don’t get all sad about it,” he mutters. “It’s not like he was the only one who wanted to kiss you.”

That makes your head snap up.

But he’s already turned away, facing the front of the room, foot tapping anxiously like he didn’t just rip something out of you and leave it there on the floor.

You sit there, hands shaking quietly in your lap.

And you don’t cry. Not yet. Because even your tears feel like they don’t know what to do.

You look down at your phone.

kookcutie: you done there? just text me when you’re done :)

kookcutie: was wondering if i could take u to drive through after detention too?

You bite your lips.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

Your mind’s spinning. Everything Jimin just said echoing like a bad song on loop.

But then you look at his name again.

The heart he sent. The jacket you’re still wearing. The way he looked at you before kissing you like he meant it.

And maybe it was a dare.

But maybe it isn’t anymore. you hope.

Your thumbs move before your brain can catch up.

you: sure :)

You hit send.

Quick. Like ripping off a band-aid.

Even though your chest still feels raw underneath.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Jimin glance over.

Just a second. Just enough.

He scoffs. Loud enough for you to hear. Loud enough to be on purpose.

“What?” you ask, not even looking at him.

“Nothing,” he says, leaning back again, arms crossed tight over his chest. “Just didn’t take you for the type to fall for that crap.”

You blink slowly. “Fall for what?”

He shrugs. “The fake good guy act. The texting hearts and giving a jacket? classic.”

You don’t say anything.

You just look back out the window, jaw clenched.

Jimin leans forward, arms resting on the desk now, voice lower. “You think he’s texting just you? You think you’re special?”

You turn to him. “Why are you being like this?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Just stares at you. Like he’s chewing on his words.

“Because you’re not supposed to matter this much,” he mutters under his breath.

You blink. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says again, sharper now. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when this all blows up in your face.”

You feel your throat tighten. That slow burn that builds behind your eyes when you’re not sure if you’re about to cry or explode.

You don’t speak.

You just look down at your hands, twisting the sleeves of the jacket tighter around your fingers.

He leans back again, dragging a hand through his hair, eyes closing like he’s trying to shut himself up before he says more than he should.

And for the rest of detention, you sit in silence.

Jimin staring at the ceiling.

You staring at your phone.

Waiting for it to light up again.

Waiting for him.

For Jungkook.

Later, when detention ends, Jungkook is already waiting outside.

But not on the bike this time.

His car.

He’s parked right at the front, one arm hanging lazily out the window, music playing low like he’s in some kind of drama scene and doesn’t even know it.

You slide into the passenger seat slowly. His bomber jacket still around your shoulders.

He smiles at you, wide, warm, like nothing is wrong.

Like everything’s okay.

“Hey,” he says, his hand reaching across the console to rest gently on your thigh. His other hand stays on the wheel like it’s second nature.

And maybe it is.

Maybe he’s done this before.

You try not to think about that.

“How was detention?” he asks, his thumb brushing soft little circles against your leg.

You force a small smile. “Fine…”

Just that. Nothing else.

He doesn’t push it.

But you feel it. his eyes flicker to you, then back to the road. He notices. He always notices.

You stare out the window.

Not really seeing anything.

Just feeling too much.

The silence is louder than it should be. The car hums beneath you, and your body feels too still. Too aware of every little touch. Every little beat of your heart.

Your mom’s voice echoes in your head.

“It’s not love if you question it.” And god, you want to believe her.

You want to believe that this isn’t love. That it shouldn’t be.

That if it hurts, it isn’t right.

But then you glance at him.

The way his hand fits so perfectly on your thigh.

The way he hums softly to the music playing.

The way he looks so calm. Like nothing’s wrong. Like it’s just you and him and this car and this moment.

And you want this.... You want him.

Even if it’s already starting to break you.

Even if part of you knows this might all be temporary.

You’re still here.

Still sitting in his passenger seat.

Still pretending your heart isn’t slowly shattering inside your chest.

Because if this is a risk,

If this is a fall,

Then maybe you’re willing to stupidly take it anyway.

The McDonald’s parking lot is nearly empty. The glow of the red and yellow sign flickers gently through the windshield as Jungkook pulls into a spot.

He turns the engine off, but the music stays on. kow and soft, barely there. Like background noise to something much bigger.

“Wait here,” he says, giving your thigh a soft squeeze before getting out of the car.

You blink, watching him jog to the door, hoodie sleeves pushed up, one hand in his pocket like he’s done this a thousand times.

A few minutes later, he comes back with your sundae and fries.

Your favorite combo.

He remembered.

He hands it to you with a grin. “I got extra fudge ‘cause you’re obsessed with it.”

You take the sundae, lips twitching into a small smile. “Thanks…”

You sit in silence for a second before dipping one of your fries into the ice cream.

He looks at you like you’ve just committed a crime. “What the hell are you doing?”

You blink. “You’ve never done this?”

“No? You’re dipping fries into ice cream.”

You hold one out to him. “Just try it.”

He narrows his eyes, leans over, takes it with his mouth, and chews slowly.

Then freezes.

“…Okay wait. That’s actually good.”

You laugh, softly. “Told you.”

You keep dipping, keep eating, and for a second it almost feels normal again. Like your mind didn’t just spiral an hour ago in a silent detention room. Like your chest isn’t carrying two different versions of this boy right now.

You lean forward to take another bite when you feel it.

Cold. Sticky.

A drip of ice cream lands right on the corner of your lip.

Before you can reach for a napkin

Before you can even react

Jungkook leans in.

His mouth brushes over the corner of your lips, tongue quick and soft, licking the ice cream off like it’s nothing. Like it’s easy. Like it’s normal.

Your whole body goes still.

Then he leans back, licking his own lips with a playful grin.

“Tastes better from you,” he smirks.

You stare at him.

Not because of what he did.

But because of what it made you feel.

Like everything else disappeared.

Like your heart was suddenly brand new again.

Like maybe…. just maybe you’re not being stupid.

But then your mom’s voice plays in your head again.

“If a man really loves you, he’ll do his best. He’ll show you. Let you feel it. And hear it.”

And tonight…

He did show you, He let you feel it.

And maybe he hasn’t said it.

Maybe he doesn’t even realize it yet.

But you see it in the way he looks at you.

The way he wipes your mouth like he’s done it forever.

The way he eats your weird fry-sundae combo without complaining.

Maybe there’s a chance.

Maybe he is trying.

Maybe this time, it’s not a dare.

His hand rests on your thigh again, thumb tracing soft, lazy circles.

You’re holding the empty sundae cup in your lap, smile still lingering, mouth still tingling from the way he kissed you.

He pulls up in front of your house and shifts into park, the engine humming low beneath you.

“There’s no class tomorrow…” he says, glancing at you with that same soft look that always makes your chest go stupid. “Wanna go somewhere? Just you and me. Whole day.”

Your heart skips. Actually skips.

But you wince. “My dad’s not gonna let me go out for the whole day…”

Jungkook nods slowly. “What if I ask?”

You blink. “Like… ask my dad? For permission?”

He just smiles, leaning back in the seat like it’s nothing. “Yeah. If that’s what it takes.”

Your jaw drops a little. “You do realize that means he’ll interrogate you for at least an hour, right? Like suit and tie, job interview energy.”

Jungkook grins wider. “I’ll survive.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”

“Don’t care,” he says simply.

Then he leans in.

And this time, it’s not soft.

Not playful.

Not quick.

It’s slow. Deep.

The kind of kiss that speaks for him before he’s ready to say anything out loud.

His hand finds your jaw, the other sliding behind your neck as he leans across the console, lips parting against yours like he’s giving you something. everything.

He kisses you like he means it, like he’s trying to tell you something.

Like he doesn’t want it to end.

And it doesn’t.

Not until you pull away.

Because in every kiss, it’s always you.

If you don’t stop him, he never will.

You’re both breathless when you part. Your forehead resting against his for a second before you gather the strength to move.

“Text me when you’re inside,” he mumbles.

You nod, cheeks hot, trying to smile without fully melting. “Okay…”

You open the car door slowly, stepping out like your legs are made of jelly.

You wave to him once before turning and walking up the steps to your door.

And of course, here they are.

Rose and Namjoon.

Your sister in one of her mini skirts, arms crossed and smirking.

Namjoon next to her with a mug in hand and that same “older brother but not your older brother” look on his face.

“Having fun, little Casanova?” Rose grins.

You groan, clutching the bomber jacket tighter around you. “Can we not-”

“He kissed you, didn’t he?” she gasps.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “That long of a kiss in a car? Should I be concerned?”

You open the door dramatically. “You’re both so annoying.”

But you’re smiling.

Even with your heart a little unsure, even with your mind echoing old doubts yet you’re still smiling.

Because for now…

It feels real.

And for now…

That’s enough.

-

VISIT MY NAVI FOR TAGLISTS ND MLIST!!

Taglist: @dailynnt @topforsure @lovingkoalaface @whothefuckisthishoe @cherryminnie @sheshya

wanna join taglist?

[dontcallmeelle]

Cockpit

Joining the mile high club by getting fucked by one of your passengers in suites 30,000 feet up the air.

Contents/warnings: smut!!(exhibitionism..?, unprotected sex, strangers2l, slight fingering, kissing, bigc!jk, flight attendant! Oc, quickie, mile high club, tell me if i missed anything else!!! )

Notes: i am very sorry if it’s inaccurate or the informations are wrong. This is fictional and i tried my best in doing research😭 please correct me

VISIT MY NAVI!!!

you were back in uniform.

first flight in weeks. incheon to las vegas.

you didn’t realize how much you missed the cabin until you stepped in again, the faint smell of pressed fabric and perfume. something about it felt like home. not that you ever planned it this way. not that you ever wanted it.

you swore you’d be different. no aviation, no crew, no flights, no shifts. your whole family was in the industry, and you said no. over and over.

until the universe laughed and said try again.

and somehow, you ended up here.

singapore airlines.

fucking lucky being a nepo baby. you’ll admit it.

you could’ve gone with emirates, qatar, etihad… but something about SIA called to you.

and maybe… this was it. maybe you were built for the skies after all.

a soft ding pulls you back.

suite 2F.

you glance at the galley panel, fix your hair quickly, smooth down your skirt, and walk over. the suite door’s already slid halfway open.

you see him.

a man leaning back like he owns the place, legs spread, tattooed arm resting on the side of the seat.

“hey miss?” his voice is smooth, lazy, like he’s been waiting.

you stop just outside the suite, posture straight, smile warm. “yes? what would you like, sir?”

“i’d like you…”

your smile falters. just a second, eyebrow twitching like you’re not sure you heard him right.

“i’m sorry… do you mean food? there’s a menu by your seat,” you say, keeping it polite. professional. barely.

but he reaches out, holds your hand.

you freeze.

“i’d like some champagne,” he adds, thumb brushing over your wrist. “and to take this beautiful flight attendant out serving me right now.”

you glance down at his hand, at his tattoos, at the way he looks at you like he’s got nothing but time.

“you don’t know if i’m engaged or married,” you say, cocking your head a little.

“i don’t see a ring on your finger, sweetheart.”

“or a boyfriend,” you add.

“‘boyfriend’ is temporary,” he fires back, grin lazy. “i could be more than that for you, sweets.”

“you want me that bad, don’t you?”

you let out a soft laugh. playful. dangerous.

“you have no idea,” he says, shaking his head, still smiling.

you pull your hand back.

“anything else besides the champagne?” you ask.

“that’s it,” he says, never breaking eye contact.

you walk out — heart annoyingly loud in your chest.

a few hours pass.

lights dimmed. cabin quiet. night mode.

ding. suite 2F.

you glance at the panel. of course.

you head toward the suite, hesitating before your hand reaches up to knock, but he opens it first.

of course he does.

“yes, sir?” your voice is calm. smile back on like nothing happened earlier.

he looks at you like you’re already his.

“i’m waiting for your answer,” he says. “when we land… during your layover. let me take you out

And there i was. mouth molded against his, arms wrapping around his neck as if it was a habit i was ready to get used to. i pull away slightly “i don’t even know your name…” i breathe out

and there you were. mouth molded against his, arms wrapping around his neck like it was a habit you were ready to get used to. you pull away slightly.

“i don’t even know your name…” you breathe out.

“jungkook, sweets… name’s jungkook. you?” he smiles, resting a hand on your waist.

“y/n…” you answer before he kisses you again, locking the door behind him as he gently lays you on the bed.

“you can’t take off my whole uniform…” you whisper.

“don’t worry… i’ll find ways,” he smirks, hiking up your knee-length sarong kebaya skirt, revealing your lacy black panties. he lifts your top just enough to show the matching pair underneath.

“beautiful…” he mumbles, gaze sweeping over your figure.

“you have to be quick…” you whisper.

“oh, i will, sweets… just gotta prep you first, hm?”

“do i need to wear a condom?” he asks looking at my eyes “no… i have uid- im clean.. are you?” “yeah i am..”

you were about to fuck 30,000 in the air… you just hope your cabin crews didn’t notice you dissapearing.

you whisper, breath barely brushing his cheek, “you better not take too long…”

“i won’t,” he breathes, hand trailing up your thigh, bunching the sarong just enough to show that lace again. “fuck, this- this’s been in my head all flight.”

your lips twitch, brushing his. “you’ve been thinking about me?”

he chuckles low, fingers slipping under the edge of your underwear, thumb finding your clit with a soft, slow pressure that makes you inhale sharply.

“thinking? baby, i’ve been hard since i board the plane…”

you shoot him a look, pretending to be scandalized even as your hips tilt into his hand. “mm. bold, aren’t you.”

“bold gets the girl, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, kissing you soft, slow, the kind that makes your knees weak… not sloppy, not rushed, but full of intent. like he’s savoring every second.

his fingers ease inside, two at once, the slide easy, your body already ready for him. your head dips, lips against his collarbone as you breathe, “no teasing…”

he nips your earlobe gently. “not teasing. warming you up. you feel fuckin’ perfect, y/n…”

you roll your eyes, biting your lip to keep quiet. “you talk too much.”

“uh huh,” he grins, pulling his fingers free, slick glinting in the dim cabin light as he licks them off slow. “but you love it.”

you do…now….. unfortunately

he unbuckles his belt one handed, eyes locked on yours as he slides his cock free. thick. flushed at the tip. veins running along the shaft. he catches you staring and smiles.

“still want me, sweets?”

you nod, breath hot in your chest. “hurry…”

he shifts you gently onto your back, your knees parting with ease as he lines himself up, pressing just the head in, slowly, too slowly then easing in deeper, deeper, till your back arches and your breath stutters against his mouth.

“so tight,” he whispers, like it’s just between you two. “not too much?”

you shake your head, hand cupping his jaw. “feels good, jungkook…”

his hips roll, not fast, but deep, controlled. each thrust is precise, calculated to make you feel every inch, to hit just right without drawing too much attention.

you press your forehead to his, whispering against his lips, “can’t believe i’m doing this here…”

he kisses you, soft again. “believe it. we’re quiet. no one’s gonna know.”

your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as his pace builds, still measured, but stronger, the sound of skin meeting skin barely audible over the hum of the cabin.

“you keep clenching around me like that, i’m gonna lose it,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.

“then don’t stop,” you whisper, legs wrapping around his waist, locking him closer. “just… fuck me like you mean it.”

he does. hips flexing deeper now, his breath warm on your cheek, hand slipping between your bodies again to circle your clit with practiced rhythm.

you bite down on your bottom lip, gasping into his shoulder.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, keeping his voice low, intimate. “i could stay like this forever, inside you…”

“you better not pull out,” you murmur, head swimming, that coil tightening fast. “want you to come inside…”

his mouth crashes into yours, moaning softly against your lips as he fucks you just a little harder, grinding into you with each thrust, until your walls clamp down around him, a wave of heat and pressure bursting through you.

you ride it out together, your breath stuttering, his pace faltering as he spills into you, hot and deep, hand fisting in the sheets.

you lie there, tangled, breath mingling, your skirt still hitched high and his hand stroking down your thigh as if to soothe the aftermath.

“so…” you murmur, still dazed, “does this count as ‘mile high’?”

he grins, that lazy cocky grin. “oh, baby. this is first class.”

you laugh, barely, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “hope you tip well…”

“you’ll see,” he smirks, pulling you into his chest “round two after landing?”

“only if you’re buying dinner…”

his grin spreads. “you won’t be walking to it, sweets.”

Taglist: @dailynnt @whothefuckisthishoe @cherryminnie95 @lovingkoalaface @sheshya @army7-013 @vintagemoonsstuff @topforsure

VISIT MY NAVI!!!

[dontcallmeelle]

No Room For Secrets-Masterlist | Jeon JungKook

jjk x reader · roommates!au · slow burn · angst + smut

→ Summary: Moving in with four three hot strangers in Seoul? Bold.

Catching feelings for the emotionally unavailable one with perfect cheekbones and a hoodie collection that mysteriously shrinks every week? Tragic.

Jeon Jungkook is quiet, smug, and annoyingly good at pretending you don’t fluster him. But between late-night eye contact, forbidden couch moments, and sexual tension that could burn the building down—you’re both in way too deep.

There’s only one rule in this apartment: don’t fall in love. Too bad neither of you are any good at following rules.

→ Pairing: Jungkook x reader (female)

→ Side Ships: Jimin x Yoongi, Seokjin x ?, Tae x ?

→ AUs: roommate!au, New Girl AU?, fwb!au, arranged marriage!au(jungkook x not you)

→ Genre: comedy, smut, fluff, slow burn, angst

→ Trope(s): strangers to roommates to friends to FWB to lovers, roommates to lovers

→ Rating: Explicit 18+ (minors DNI)

→ Word Count (total+drabbles): 119,675+

→ Status: ONGOING

→ Warnings/Triggers: Will be tagged on each chapter

→ Chapters: 11/?

→ Author’s Note: Wassup fool Hey Besties!

When I started this fic, I had a vision. A plan. A literal outline. A PINTEREST BOARD. Now, I’m just as surprised by the plot as you are. My characters have gone rogue. It’s like herding cats, but the cats have emotional baggage and unresolved sexual tension.

Update Schedule: Updates will appear as mysteriously as Jungkook’s tattoos—sporadic but always worth the wait. But usually on Saturdays :)

Feedback: Comments are my love language. Shower me with your thoughts, theories, and memes. Feel free to scream, cry, or throw virtual tomatoes at me in the comments. Your reactions fuel my writing (and my ego).

Disclaimer: Yes, No Room for Secrets is heavily inspired by New Girl—especially the chaotic roommate energy and the apartment layout. So if you notice similarities… you’re not wrong. But don’t sue me, sue my nostalgia. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. (Except the coffee addiction. That’s painfully real.) This is 100% fiction, and I’m so glad you’re here for the ride. 💞

Extras: Drabbles , Banners

(*All .5 chapters are Jungkook’s POV*)

Chapter 1: Meet Cute? - 4.6k

Summary: You move into your new apartment and quickly bond with your roommates(and Taehyung). A deeper conversation with Jungkook about life sparks subtle flirting and an unexpected connection.

Chapter 2: And They Were Roommates - 6.2k

Summary: A new roommate initiation gone sour. Or. You go out drinking with your roomies and jealousy is a green monster.

Chapter 2.5: You’re Screwed (jk’s pov) - 2.7k

Summary: When he saves you from the guy on the dance floor. And where he went when he left the bar. Details of Jungkook & Jimin’s past are revealed.

Chapter 3: Trivia Love - 7.8k

Summary: Yoongi keeps secrets. You play trivia with your roommates and a special guest. You unintentionally hurt someone's feelings.

Chapter 4: Seven Days of Silence - 7.8k

Summary: Week-long silent war, Yoongi delivers wisdom (and bibimbap), one rain-soaked almost-kiss, Jimin walks in at the best worst possible moment.

Chapter 4.5: Barely Breathing (jk’s pov) - 2.3k

Summary: Jungkook deals with the fallout of a week-long silent war, questioning everything from his feelings to the promise that’s slowly breaking him.

Chapter 5: Fire, Flour, & Feelings (m) - 13.3k

Summary: Taehyung starts a fire, Jungkook starts a problem. You end up in his lap. God doesn’t answer your prayers.

Chapter 6: Say It Again (m) - 9.8k

Summary: The tension finally breaks—twice. But morning brings more than afterglow: missing underwear, suspicious roommates, and the first crack of jealousy you can’t ignore.

Chapter 7: The Things We Don’t Say (m) - 7.1k

Summary: You spend the day avoiding Jungkook, but a rain-soaked night—and one impulsive choice—pulls you back into his arms, where everything you’re trying to deny only gets harder to ignore.

Chapter 7.5: Always Listening (jk’s pov) - 2.4k

Summary: Jungkook sits with the weight of your silence, wondering if wanting you was always a mistake.

Chapter 8: Rules, Coffee, & Chaos (m) - 11.3k

Summary: You make rules with Jungkook, immediately break them, accidentally host an exes reunion, and try to cook dinner like everything’s normal—spoiler: it’s not.

Chapter 8.5: This Is Totally Fine (yg/jk’s pov) - 4.5k

Summary: Yoongi’s past collides with the present when Jimin walks into the café. Meanwhile, Jungkook returns home hungry—for more than dinner—and breaks the rules in your kitchen.

Chapter 9: Something Like This (m) - 10.3k

Summary: From Monday’s jealous meltdown to Thursday’s domestic bliss, you and Jungkook spiral deeper into your secret.

Chapter 10: Something Like Love (m) - 18k

Summary: You put on the dress. Jungkook loses his mind. And somehow, in a coat closet and a room full of witnesses, something between you starts to sound a lot like love.

Chapter 11: Quiet Kind of Love (m) - 9.5k

Summary: Jimin breaks. You spiral. Jungkook stays soft—through the panic, the quiet, and the Mercedes tension. And for once, you let him in.

Chapter 11.5: coming soon…

Summary:

[dontcallmeelle]

Something About You (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating (JK's ex), minor injuries (18+)

Word count: 120.6k

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: Hi, I'm back! It's been an insane few months and I managed by rewatching BTS' travel shows and came up with this little something! 🤭 Plus, Are You Sure JK was so boy friend and so boyfriend that I just had to write him up so please envision him and their trips while reading. This isn't that serious and it's more fluff and comfort than anything so I hope you enjoy! 💛💜💙🧡

Episode 1: Chungbuk (wc: 11.4k)

Episode 2: Chungbuk, The Aftermath (wc: 9k)

Episode 3: Sapporo (wc: 17.9k)

Episode 4: Sapporo, The Aftermath (wc: 16.5k)

Episode 5: Jeju (wc: 22.1k)

Episode 6: Jeju, The Aftermath (wc: 22.3k)

Episode 7 - Bonus: Busan (wc: 21.4) || Final

[dontcallmeelle]

Another Time Masterpost

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, thriller, smut, fluff, angst

Total Word Count: 75k

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

Warnings: explicit. MDNI. 18+. smut. angst. childhood lovers, main character death. gore (i tried to not be super gross 😭 i’m srry). blood. thriller. harassment. stalking. cursing. fighting. cheating?. jealousy. unwanted touch. miscommunication. emotional breakdown. alcohol consumption. drinking to excess. smoking cigarettes. assault (physical & verbal). attempted sexual assault. drug usage. gaslighting. emotional child abuse. child neglect. shitty ass parents. this is literally ALL over the place. explicit content : doggy. fingering. oral r&g (m&f). missionary. breast play. body worship. cowgirl. kissing. praising. slight degradation (name calling). unprotected sex (pls be better irl 🙏🏻 this is solely fiction and you should use protection!!!). spanking.

═══════

A/N: so I’ve been slowly working on this and bc I’m so anal, I had to write the entire thing multiple times before posting. So if you notice that my writing changes bc of taking classes/planning/editing, no you didn’t 😀 Please any criticism or comments are welcome!! 🫶 I want to improve in any way I can and I will deadass go in and edit a chapter before posting. Okay, I’m done yapping (:

When I tell you that this hoe can get confusing, TRUST ME, I know. I confused myself half the time. BOLD is presented as dreams.

Hopefully it makes more sense.

♡ MASTERLIST

═══════

Chapter 1: 7.9k

Chapter 2: 7.6k

Chapter 3: 7.5k

Chapter 4: 7.5k

Chapter 5: 9.7k

Chapter 6: 7.6k

Chapter 7: 6.5k

Chapter 8: 7.4k

Chapter 9: 9.6k

Epilogue: 3.4k

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♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

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Completed: 06/06/2025

[dontcallmeelle]

fluffy haired jungkook ilysm

cr. namuspromised, 0613data, @/jung-koook