hoperecs

[hoperecs]

Killin' It Boy | JHS x f.Reader

“Jung Hoseok is many a thing in your life: Best friend. Part time lover. Eyecandy. And subject of your horniest desires. One night you stay over at his place, but fall asleep before anything can happen. You wake up the next morning needing him like you need air and he just so happens to need you too.”

Pairing: Hoseok x f.Reader (can be read without prior lore knowledge)

Genre: best friends with benefits!AU, Smut, Fluff if you squint really hard

Warnings: Hobi in a tanktop & grey sweats <3, Rougher Dom!Hoseok, needy sub!Reader, she just "casually" wears a thong around him, which obviously earns her what she deserves (a good dickening), making out & groping in his kitchen, which then continues in his bedroom, body worship for both, nipple play & licking for both, strength & muscle kink, now hear me out about the main thing!! she massages lube on his abs and then grinds on them :), yes this an ab humping fic :), multiple orgasms (f.receiving), afterwards he dicks her down HARD, clit play, breast play, choking & spanking (f.receiving), messy orgasms, creampie, cumming all over her chest, which he licks off <3, he calls her babygirl & good girl, the praisiest praise ever, this man can DIRTY TALK LORDD, i need a respirator fr, loving & soft aftercare

Wordcount: 6.9k

a/n: i don't want to talk about it. this is not how i wanted to return from my break but here we are 😶 i want to formally apologise for the damage this will do to you besties' pussies but i also want to say you're welcum. i put my entire sibussy into this story and it didn't help because hobi is still fucking haunting me omfg oh lord i need to run against a wall and forget all my memories fr 😩 have fun my whores i'm happy to be back 🖤

You are at Hoseok’s today.

Well, technically you are still at Hoseok’s after staying the night. Nothing happened. It was quite simple. The others aren’t currently at the estate and you grew tired of being alone. Taehyung and Jimin are on a best friend bonding trip to Hawaii, Jungkook is staying with Seokjin in Gordes because he really missed him and Yoongi had to spontaneously leave for Geneva to help his long term friend Fredrick with sorting out some issues.

And you? You honestly didn’t feel like going on a trip. So you stayed behind. You cleaned, did some gardening, you read, you took walks and enjoyed time alone. But then you got bored and so you took one very long walk to Hoseok’s.

That was yesterday and he welcomed you with homemade iced tea and pasta for dinner.

“Somehow I always end up eating pasta at your place”, you told him, enjoying it wholeheartedly.

“Sorry, it’s not my intention.”

“It’s totally fine. You make one hell of a pesto.”

Later you watched a movie where you fell asleep on his chest. Nothing happened.

Hoseok must have been awake for a while. His side is empty and cold. Which is a fucking shame because the second you woke up, you craved him. In more ways than one. You wanted his cuddles, desired his kisses and needed his touch. You huff air in frustration, staring at the empty bed longingly. It would have been so awesome if he was still here. He is always so warm in the morning and said warmth really brings out how amazing he smells.

You sit up and roll out of bed to leave for the bathroom so you can freshen up a little.

Hoseok is a very clean person. Quite frankly, he is the tidiest person you know. Each thing has his designated spot and things like dust or flyaway hairs were nonexistent in his bathroom. He left the door open and the scent of his shower gel still lingers in the air. You enjoy it as you wash your face and brush your teeth, eyes travelling over the tidy set up. He left his cologne outside today, which is totally shocking but also very tempting. You finish cleaning up and pick up the cologne to steal a sniff. Woody cedar meets warm grapefruit with a hint of shiso. It is masculine and sensual. If you could, you would bathe in it. It smells so good and knowing that he probably put it on after his shower makes you just a little droopy.

Now, you must be excused. Being close to Hoseok is very difficult because he is just so attractive. Yesterday, he opened the door in a tank top and some baggy grey sweats and you almost barked at him. It also doesn’t help that he is starting to get serious with you. Granted, you always knew that he wasn’t the funny perverted jokester he most of the times likes to give himself as, but seeing his more serious side become the norm around you just kind of hits different. He is so attractive when he simply exists without trying to put on a show. It’s in the little things. The way he closes a cabinet with his hip, the way he offers you something to drink and always makes sure that you are taken care of or when he tells you about his day while you rest on his chest and he traces your arm. He is so him these days. So completely and attractively mundane and normal and because of that, incredibly sexy.

Point being, you are just a little upset that last night didn’t lead to anything more and so you leave for downstairs with a plan. You are wearing nothing more than your lacy bra and a matching thong. You rarely wear thongs, because let’s be honest, they are fucking uncomfortable. You only wear them when you want to seduce someone and this is your plan. Seduce Hoseok.

Your heart races. This is something you never did before with him. You have no idea how he will react or if he will even like it. You might actually dissolve into dust of embarrassment if he ends up being weirded out. After all, you and he aren’t an official thing and stuff like surprising each other in your underwear isn’t just something that happens. But if you don’t try, you will always regret it.

Hoseok is eating his world-famous breakfast croffles (he always has to make them when you stay for breakfast) and sips on coffee when you enter the kitchen. He is engrossed in a video on his phone, judging by the sounds it is a dancing competition video.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, one second I can’t look away. My favourite’s dancing.”

Just as you had figured.

“Yeah? Are they any good?”

“She’s fucking sick. I’ve never seen such footwork before. How the hell is she even doing that?” he says and moves the phone closer to see better.

You run your eyes over him. Baggy grey sweats and a white tanktop, dark hair styled messily on purpose and fingers adorned by rings. He is so attractive without even trying.

This is killing you. Your heart might give up before anything else. Hoseok keeps murmuring and mumbling to himself while you prepare a cup of tea. You know your way around the kitchen, so it is easy to do.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you croffles”, he offers without looking up.

“Sure, I could go for a bite.”

“Alright, I’ll make them soon.”

“Yeah, take your time.”

He hums and continues watching. The water finishes boiling in the time being. You fill your designated mug, watching the tea bag tint the water caramel slowly.

“Damn, that was sick”, Hoseok lets out behind you.

The dance must have finished because you can hear the distinct sound of a phone being set down. It is now or never.  

You keep your back turned to him, acting busy and hoping that he looks.

“So sorry, I would have been so upset if I missed that, but now you have me all to-”

One second.

“What the fuck?” a very quiet whisper.

Two seconds.

“-yourself.” Loud again. “Damn, what’s going on with your clothes?”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“You didn’t wear that to sleep. Where’s your pjs gone?”

You turn and shrug your shoulders.

“Didn’t feel like it.”

His eyes are all over you, trying to undress what little clothing still covers you.

“Well fuck”, he says and drops into his chair, running his hand over his mouth.  He meets your eyes. “Not gonna lie, ___, this is making the morning a lot sweeter.”

“It is?”

“You’re like a dream, Seriously, the sweetest dream. Damn, just, sorry I’m inappropriate. It’s just underwear and I’m acting like I’ve never seen a woman in a thong before. Sorry.”

“You’re alright”, you say and chuckle, “I like it.”

You turn again so you can get some milk. You like your morning tea with milk. Anyone who hates this combination doesn’t know true culinary luxury.

“Fucking hell ___, you’re… Nah, that’s too much.”

He stands up and closes the distance. His hand brushes your waist.

“Please look at me”, he says, using his sexy voice for it.

You turn. His gaze is darkened in desire, making sinful love to you as he looks you deep into the eyes.

“Tell me that I’m not reading into this too much and you’re not just wearing this for the sake of wearing it.”

“I wanna tell you something about me.”

“Tell me.”

“I actually hate wearing thongs. They’re things of evil.”

He chuckles, sliding his fingers under the very thin string which sits on your hip.

“So why are you?”

“Because…” you begin to whisper, closing the distance so he can taste the words.

Hoseok’s purrs softly, parting his lips. Your breath taste minty and like temptation. He craves to fill his lungs with you.

“...I had hoped that you would like them”, you finish your sentence, raking your fingers up his sculpted chest.

“I do. I like them.”

Closer. Your lips almost touch.

“Good.”

“Kiss me.” He cups your cheek, chasing your lips.

“You first.”

Hoseok smiles in amusement, eyes flickering darkly. He slides his hand to the back of your head and pulls you in. You moan, knees buckling and body chasing him instinctively. He tastes sweet like the maple syrup he likes on his croffles. His lips are so soft, drawing you in. He is definitely the one to decide the rhythm. You just have to take it, keep up with it and you do. You take it with a racing heart, moaning every time he runs his tongue over your lips. You keep up with it, touching his body because you need to have all of him. His arms are so defined without being too overly bulky. His waist is so tiny and firm and his chest is strong with the perkiest of nipples. You rub them over his tanktop. He moans softly, following it with a chuckle. He sways your bodies from side to side, wrapping his strong arms around you so he can press you against him. He purrs deeply, letting you taste his desire in a slow tongue kiss.

You moan into his mouth. It feels so good to be held that tight just because you played with his nipples. Hoseok is so good in communicating with his body and he just doesn’t stop talking. As you continue to rub and explore his chest, he continues to purr and allows his hands to travel over your back. He uses his entire palms for it, making sure that you can feel every touch he places.

You switch your touch to his neck, ruffling up his hair and meeting his tongue with your own. He sucks on your tongue with a moan, squeezing your ass. He does it so desperately that you kind of wobble from side to side, getting on your tiptoes because he lifts you just a little.

“Jump”, he orders and you follow.

He catches you, bouncing you in his arms so he gets a better grip of you and kissing you as he does. You moan, grinding against his stomach and twisting his hair. His hands are under your ass, his arms flex as he carries you with ease. His kiss tastes like heaven, but you take it away when he sits you down on the kitchen counter and you have to gasp.

“Cold”, you whine.

“Hm, sorry”, he purrs, making it up to you by kissing your neck and shoulders. He is breathing heavily, constantly purring and moaning because the mere existence of you seems to drive him wild.

You don’t even care about the cold stone under your butt anymore. Not when he raises the fire in your veins. You close your eyes, gripping the edge of the counter and keeping him close with your legs. He feels them up, kissing a hungry path down to your breasts.

“So sexy, you’re so sexy”, he lulls, grinding into you with a shaky moan.

Thud.

“Ouch.”

He shoots up.

“What was that?”

You are pouting, rubbing your head, “I hit my head on the cabinet.”

Hoseok laughs, “are you okay?” he asks, petting the aching spot.

“No. You made me roll my head back with your stupid grinding and I hit it.”

He chuckles, “okay Miss Clumsy, let’s remove you from danger”, he says and lifts you off the counter.

You giggle, ruffling his hair and gazing down at him.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Bedroom”, he says, “now fucking kiss me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Kissing him is like a drug and you are its addict. You kiss him as he leaves the kitchen, you kiss him as he walks up the stairs and you kiss him as he lies you down in his soft bed. He is the one to break the kiss, but the pleasure continues. Your neck gets kissed and sucked and because it’s Hoseok and his entire deal is being sexy, he bites you as well.

You mewl, rolling your hips up in desperate search for friction. He helps you find it on his hand. He hooks his pinkie in your thongs and pulls it to the side, connecting his thumb with your pussy so you can grind down on it.

“Hobi, oh god.”

“I love how fucking wet you already are, you’re just so good for me”, he praises. He hooks his other hand in your bra, tugging the right cup to the side so he has access to your nipple. He wraps his wet, warm and soft mouth around it, sucking on it gently and flicking his tongue over it.

If he didn’t have you wrapped all around his fingers, he definitely would now.

“Stop”, you gasp, pulling his hand away, “stop, please stop.”

“What’s the matter?” he asks, retreating his hand.

“You’re too good, I’m excited.” You fluster. “I almost came.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Don’t laugh. This is really exciting for me.”

“Why? I’m just getting you ready.”

“I wanted you the moment I woke up.”

He widens his eyes, “really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well damn. I don’t know what to say.”  

You touch his chest, “I want something.”

“Tell me.”

“I want you to be rough today, okay? No more of that careful shit.”

He chuckles, “alright, I can do that. Anything else?”

“If you want to, you can choke me or spank me.”

“Hot. That’s hot.”

“So?”

“Yes, baby. Yes”, he says and kisses you again.

You moan in happiness, dragging your hands down his torso until you reach his pants. You slip your hands inside. Hoseok follows your hands just to take his pants off. The kiss has to break when he has to step out of them. A pair of tight boxers keeps his hard cock pressed to his thigh. He is soaking the grey fabric. The view is so hot but nothing beats the view of his abs as he takes off his tanktop. He throws it to the side and steps out of his boxers, wanting to reclaim his spot between your legs afterwards but you are faster.

You sit up, surprising him by pushing him down into the sheets by his chest.

“Alright, is this what we’re doing?” he laughs, dropping down willingly.

You climb his lap, sitting down right under his hard cock. He smiles in amusement, caressing your thighs.

“You’re so sweet”, he purrs, feeling up your waist.

“Mhm”, you hum absentmindedly, lowering your mouth to his neck to worship it needily. He smells like his cologne. You quite frankly lick and suck it off of him while Hoseok gasps for air and moans in pleasure.

You only leave his neck once you consumed all of his scent, having come to the conclusion that the rest of his body smells just as good.

“Oh shit”, he lets out under his breath, chest heaving up and down quickly as you lick his nipples.

But again, you don’t stay for too long. This isn’t what you crave the most. This isn’t what you have been thinking about ever since you saw him in this stupidly tight tanktop.

“Your abs are insane. Actually insane”, you say, dragging your tongue down the middle of them. Your hands follow it along his waist, thumbs running over his obliques. Hoseok chases your mouth, abs rippling under your tongue. He sighs, skin tingling.

You are so greedy. Your mind is going wild.

“I wanna grind on them”, you murmur to yourself.

“Then do.”

“Hm?”

Hoseok props himself up on his elbows. You look at him with widened eyes.

“You heard that?”

“You weren’t really quiet, were you?” He smirks. “Do it. I don’t have them for nothing you know? I bet I can make you cum on them.”

“Holy moly, Hoseok.”

His smirk grows. He cups your cheek and traces your lips.

“Deal?”

“Yeah. Deal”, you sigh and kiss him.

Hoseok drops into the sheets and grabs your ass, moaning deeply. His grip is gentle but also, for a lack of a better word, possessive. He makes sure that you can feel it – feel him – but not in a way which would hurt. This is supposed to be good for you and it is. Hoseok is so fucking good for you.

He makes you laugh, he lets you cry, he protects you, he listens to you and remembers mundane stuff like your favourite croffle toppings. And he feels like ecstasy when you touch. He is so fucking good for you.

“Hobi…” you sigh into the kiss.

“Hm?” he purrs, rubbing your buttocks.

“You’re so addictive.”

He laughs, “what are you saying?”

“Just…fucking want you.”

He moans as you kiss him, giving you a gentle push to make you finally scoot up his body. He is needy too. He can’t deny it anymore.

The kiss has to break for the thing to work. His head is supported by two pillows, laying higher this way so he has good view of his abs.

You crawl off his lap. Hoseok watches with heavy eyes as you take off your thong. Then you walk off.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

“Drawer was it?” you ask, walking to his bedside table.

“For what? Come back here.”

You open the drawer. Bingo.

“Lube”, you say and show him the bottle of water based lube he keeps close by.

Hoseok tuts, smirking in amusement.

“What do you need that for, mhm?”

“You’ll see.”

You climb back on his lap and sit down. Hoseok instantly touches you, running his hands up and down your thighs and waist. He looks at you as if he wanted to devour you whole.

“So sexy. My babygirl’s so fucking sexy”, he purrs, spurring you on.

With confidence, you open the bottle of lube and squirt a sinful amount of it onto his abs. They twitch and flex as a reaction to the cold.

“Shit.” He laughs, squeezing your hips. “That’s cold, gotta warn me.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I could watch your abs twitch like that”, you say and put the bottle aside. You connect your hands with his stomach to massage the lube all over his skin.

“That’s hot…fuck, I like that”, he purrs, tensing and relaxing his abs wherever you touch him. “Yeah, just like that, babygirl…”

“How do you even get these abs? They’re insane.”

“Workouts, dancing, I’m just sexy, what can I say”, he says, following it with a rather cutesy giggle.

You agree, “you are. You’re so sexy.”

You spread the excess lube on your pussy and finally do what you need. You position yourself above his abs.

“That’s so hot. Use me, babygirl, you got it”, he encourages you, offering you his hands if you needed support. He has his arms propped on his elbows so you can really lean your weight on them.

You take them, of course you do. Those are Hoseok’s hands. You would be dumb if you didn’t take them. The lube smears between your palms, forcing him to grip you so much tighter than he normally needs to. It’s so sexy.

Your pussy touches his stomach. You exhale shakily, heart beginning to race. This is new to you and it’s already amazing.

“That’s good, babygirl. You like that?”

“Yeah, I do”, you say and begin moving. You roll your hips up and down on his abs, finding out soon enough that you can feel the definition. “Okay, woah yeah I do.”

He chuckles, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. He can’t decide whether to look at your pretty pussy on his abs or your cute face scrunched up in concentration. Maybe both because he is fucking into you. So into you.

“Take it at your pace, yeah? I’m right here, just enjoy.”

“Hoseok…”

Your pussy is mesmerising. The angle naturally hides a lot from his eyes, but what Hoseok can see is enough to drive him insane. You fit right around his abs, moving so perfectly on him. He feels you getting wetter and wetter. It’s so warm, really bringing out how fucking soft you are.

“Hobi, you feel so good”, you get out, squeezing his hands.

“I do?” He flexes his abs.

“A-ah”, you moan with your voice pitched, scrunching your nose.

“So sexy”, Hoseok whispers, doing it again just to hear you moan and feel you clench.

You didn’t think that you could feel it so well. You could fucking count them just by rubbing your pussy over them.

One, two, three.

“Hoseok, ah, Hoseok.”

Four, five.

“You’re such a pretty woman, riding my abs so well. Good girl, make yourself feel good.”

Six, seven.

“Hobi please.”

Eight. He’s got an eight pack. This sexy motherfucker actually has an eight pack and its currently getting marked by you. He is the canvas and you are the artist, creating impure art.

“Please what, babygirl? Want me to help you?”

You open your bra and take it off.

“Touch me”, you beg, guiding his lube covered hands to your tits.

His abs tense under you because of the position. He purrs deeply, watching with widened pupils as he covers your breasts in a sinful layer of lube. He rubs his palms all over your chest, drags them down your sides and up over your stomach, repaying the favour this way. Now you are both covered in lube, skin glistening in the morning light and bodies heated up.

“My sexy woman. Fuck, lube’s your best look”, he rasps, cupping your breasts to knead them in his messy fingers.

You twitch and tremble on him, leaking more of you on his hard abs. Praise paired with his touches is a difficult combination to handle. It turns you on so much to be messy and he is calling you sexy for it.

You press yourself tighter to his abs, speeding up your movements because he has you desperate. It squelches in wet sin, only adding to the pleasure. The fact that you can hear the texture of them…

“Fuck, this feels so good…”

“Yeah? Like it?”

“So much, ahm…”

“That’s it. Ride my abs, good girl. You’re such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with his thumbs on your nipples. It’s like he knows how a woman works. It’s insane how good his touch feels. Just one second of it and you already find yourself addicted to it.

“Hoseok, fuck please.”

“Tell me, babygirl.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Won’t.”

“Thank you”, you moan and throw your head back, arching your back. You grab his strong arms, chasing the feeling of him. His hands on you, his thumbs on your nipples and his abs under your leaking cunt. You chase it, chase it, chase it and it’s getting better and better.

By now you have his abs so messy that creamy strings of your slick stick to his skin, webbing themselves from muscle to muscle. It looks so good against his honey skin.

You don’t get to see it. Your eyes are rolled back by now.

But Hoseok sees it and he is hooked up on the view, leaking on his lowest abs and wishing for you to just take him in. But he can’t rush you. He promised you an orgasm on his abs and he isn’t one to break promises. Especially not when it comes to you. You’re fucking precious to him and the promises he makes you, sacred.

So he keeps his fantasy a little fantasy while he tenses and flexes his abs under your puffy cunt and plays with your pretty nipples. He switches between massages of your chest and attention to your nipples with little flicks and rubs. The pleasure courses through you in waves.

“I think I’m close.”

“That’s so good. You’re doing so well”, he praises, sitting up more just so his abs ripple for you.

You shake, digging your fingers into his arms.

“Oh fuck.”

“You feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you…”

“Mhhm I feel you too. You’re so sexy on my abs. My sexy babygirl”, he rasps and takes your nipples between his fingers to tug gently and rub them. At the same time he rolls his hips up, letting you feel how his abs work when he fucks.

“Hoseok holy fuck, ah!” you croak and break. Your entire body just freezes. Hoseok moans loudly at the feeling of your throbbing pussy and takes your hips between his hands just to move them over his abs for you.

You sob, gripping his wrists as you tremble. You thought it couldn’t get any better, but he proves you wrong as he guides you.

“Ho-hobi. Hobi please. Please.”

“I know babygirl, I know. You’re cumming so good for me. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“Hobi…”

“I’ve got you. I’m here”, he talks you through it because that’s what he does. He talks you through it, helps you ride it out and enjoys the sensations with a dizzy head.

He can feel when it stops for you. He is so fucking greedy for more but knows not to be. You always get a little vulnerable after your first orgasm. It’s as if your mind finally catches up with the fact that you were horny and it is figuring out whether to be embarrassed or want more.

You sit on him with your entire weight, eyes widened and glassy.

“I…”

“Hush, you’re okay”, Hoseok assures you, lifting you just to sit up and put you down on his lap instead. The creamy mess you left on his abs smears all over your stomach now that are you so close. He has his hands on your back, holding you safely as he kisses your neck.

“What are you doing to me?” you choke out, dropping into him.

He moves his head so it wouldn’t get squished. His chin now rests against your shoulder while you have your face pressed into the crook of his neck. Your arms are hooked behind his head and your hands are in his hair.

“I promised you an orgasm on my abs, didn’t I?” he speaks in a soft voice, scratching your back soothingly.

“Yeah, but.”

“But what?”

“It felt so good.”

He chuckles, squeezing your buttocks.

“So? Where’s the problem?”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes. You cup his face.

“I want more.”

“What was that?”

“I want more”, you say and slide your hand to his cock.

Hoseok tenses his stomach, showing you with a slight squint of his eyes that he feels your touch and he likes it.

“Tell me”, he rasps.

“I want more, please.”

“No. Tell me that you can’t get enough.”

“I can’t get enough.”

He smiles darkly, lowering his eyes seductively. He moves his head closer, letting you taste his words.

“Beg for it.”

“I can’t get enough, please Hobi.”

“You can do better than that”, he rasps, looking at your lips.

“Fuck. Please fuck me, I want more of you, please”, you beg, heart racing like crazy and head dizzy. It’s so hot to have to beg. Especially when he makes you work for it. And you work for it. You grind your hips down on his thigh, twisting your hand around his cock in hopes of convincing him.

“I like that, babygirl. Say it again. One more time”, he whispers, craving to kiss you. Your hand on his cock is making it so difficult to hold back.

“You’re a tease”, you whine.

“Fucking say it again, babygirl”, he orders, giving your ass a warning squeeze. 

“Please fuck me, please don’t tease me anymore please”, you whimper and try to warm his heart by dancing your tongue over his lips.

Hoseok growls and moves quickly. He picks you up only to pin you into the sheets and give you what you ask for.

You squeak, tensing up in surprise.

He knows how to do it so it fills you with electrical shocks of pleasure. He soaks up the view of your surprised eyes widening only to go out of focus and roll back all within a second.

“Go on say it. Say what you’re thinking”, he challenges you, pumping his aching cock into you in a desperate rhythm.

“Feels so good. Hobi, you feel so good.”

“Yeah? And what do well mannered women do, mhm?”

“Moan for you,” you moan, arching your back.

He chuckles, sliding his hand under your back and rewarding you with his entire length.

“Good guess, but no.”

You squeeze down on him so hard that he knows it was intentional. He growls, twisting the sheets beside your head.

“No, that’s not either. Go on, use your brain. What do we say after getting something?”

“Thank you”, you moan, twisting the sheets as well. There are no words on this earth to describe how good his cock makes you feel. First his abs get you sensitive and now you have his girthy cock splitting you open. This is actual heaven.

“Good girl. That’s it. Thank me. Go on.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you”, you chant, getting louder and needier because your moans earn you more and more of what he has to offer.

He moves his hips as if he was on stage, performing and dancing just for your pleasure. Your second thank you earns you his skilled fingers on your clit and your third thank you earns you his other hand around your throat.

“Hoseok!” you wail, grasping his lower arm just to squeeze him closer to your throat.

He purrs deeply, tightening his fingers. Your pulse races like crazy, fluttering and faltering as he slowly and gently cuts off the blood flow to your brain. He towers over you, kneeling on the sheets as he makes dirty love to you. But you don’t get to see how sexy he looks. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your mind is completely lost in the pleasure.

“I’m going insane, you feel so fucking good. Fucking wanted you like crazy”, he says and moans loudly.

You match his freak with an even louder moan, clenching down on his cock because vocal men are such a turn on. Especially when it’s Hoseok. His voice is fucking made to make sex noises.

“Shit, woah…that feels good. Do it again”, he moans.

You clench, toes curling because it makes it a lot better for you as well. You can feel every vein on his cock this way, can feel his tip fuck against your g-spot and feel his base stretch you out. So you clench and clench and clench, whimpering and mewling for him.

“Yes”, he growls, chasing the tight heaven you offer him, “yes, yes, fucking yes. Babygirl, yes.”

He fucks you right where it feels the best. Over and over again he hits The Spot while his fingers flick your clit quickly and his hand reminds your throat that you are his’.

“Yes, babgirl, yes. You-”

“Hoseok”, you interrupt him.

“Yes?”

“You’re making me- oh god, Hoseok please. I have to- ah!”

“It’s okay, you can cum. Don’t hold back”, he encourages you, helping you with a soft rub on your clit and by letting go of your neck.

“Thank you!” You climax on his cock with a sob, writhing in ecstasy because this is so much more intense than the first one. Your head pounds from the blood rushing back. You feel your orgasm everywhere between your legs, thanking him over and over again.

“That’s it, don’t hold back. Good girl, I can’t get enough of you”, he talks you through it just as he fucks you through it. He doesn’t slow down. Why should he? When it makes you feel so good.

“More. More please. Please, oh. Please.”

“Wasn’t gonna stop anyway”, he says and easily fixes you to how he wants you. He rolls you to your side and bends your leg around his hips. He faces your pussy and just like this, he enters you. He gives you all of him, watching in delight how you tense up and writhe in pleasure because the position allows him to hit your g-spot more precisely.

“Thank you. Hobi please. Thank you.”

“I fucking love when you beg like this. Makes me wanna fuck you so much harder”, he purrs, using his abs and back muscles to give you the fuck of your lifetime.

Hoseok is many a thing. Best friend. Occasional lover. Artist. Pornstar, dancer and man obsessed. One thing is for sure however, he will use his mesmerising ability to move his hips to give you cock in ways you haven’t experienced yet. This is a passion project for him and he treats his passion projects with utmost and precise care. Because he likes them to be perfect.

If that means that he has to rearrange your guts and permanently carve himself into your walls, then so be it. Hoseok is down for the ride.

“Please, Hobi. It’s too much”, you sob and bury your face in the mattress. He watches how you bite into the sheets, how you grasp them with shaky fingers and how your toes curl.

“Just say it if you want me to stop. Hm?” He stops his hips. “Wanna say it?”

“No!” you practically yell at him. “Don’t stop please!”

Hoseok chuckles and picks his rhythm back up. He spanks your ass.

“Bad girl. Yelling is rude.”

You whimper, spilling tears. This is all part of his plan isn’t it? He listened to your wishes, memorised them and then planned the sexiest way of including them. First the hand around your throat and then he works you up to be yelling just so he can spank you. Holy fuck, this is all just part of his plan.

“Again please”, you beg desperately, leaking on his cock just as you leak tears into the sheets.

Spank! In sync with a rough thrust of his skilled hips.

“Thank you!”

“You’re so polite. Keep it up, babygirl. So good”, he rasps, rewarding you with two consecutive spanks and rough thrusts.

“Thank you”, you sob, clenching down on is cock every time he lands his bejeweled hand on your ass.

“So good.”

Spank!

“Hobi”, you sob and go back to biting the sheets.

Hoseok continues. He is panting by now, growling each time he exhales. He spanks you not because you need to be punished, but as an act of infatuation. He does it because it gives you pleasure, because it makes your cunt so tight on his cock and because it makes such a pretty sound.

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well. My good fucking woman. So good”, he praises, rubbing your clit with his other hand because you deserve only the best.

“O-i im uing”, you murmur into the sheets.

“What was that?”

You show him. Hoseok yelps, tensing up.

“___ baby…holy fuck, so tight”, he moans, throwing his head back and burying his cock in you to the very base just so he can feel every second of your orgasm. He didn’t plan on making you cum already so this one comes as a surprise.

You sob and wail, convulsing in paradisal pleasure before it gets too much and you squirt all over him.

“Fucking hell, you gonna make me cum. This is so hot”, Hoseok growls, suddenly moving like a messy, clumsy teenage boy. Coordinating spanks and clit rubs is impossible and his hips stutter whenever he pushes back in. So he holds onto a good chunk of your ass, bruising it between his strong fingers as he claims your weeping cunt. You are so tight and now so fucking wet. Your orgasm sticks to his abs as well, soaking his cock and balls. The view is so sexy to him, making it hard to keep moving. “Fuck, I’m close.”

You fight yourself to your elbow and reach for him.

“Please Hobi.” you beg, dragging your nails down his abs so hard that it leaves marks.

Hoseok looks into your puppy eyes and knows that he is done for.

“___ baby”, he moans, eyes going cross before rolling back and closing. His hips stop when his cock is deepest. He grunts, scrunches his face and you can finally feel it. His hot, creamy orgasm. It fills you up, sticks to you, makes you his’.

“Thank you, ah Hoseok, thank you”, you whimper, feeling up his abs as they ripple and tense rhythmically.

“Baby, this feels so good. Holy fuck, can I cum on your chest?”

“Yeah. Please.”

“Urgh fuck”, he growls through gritted teeth and pulls out of you. He flips you to your back and spanks your clit with his cock just once to get the message across before he angles it differently and jerks off over your chest to get that last wave of pleasure all over it.

“Hobi”, you whimper, watching the sinful show with hungry eyes. Look at his abs tense…

“That’s my woman. Fucking wear me around your neck, that’s my woman. So fucking good, urgh.”

You cry for him, gazing up at him with devoted, droopy eyes. You can’t decide whether to look at his heavy cock spurting white cum all over you and his long fingers or his glistening abs or his scrunched face. Maybe you look at all of it while you touch and scratch his abs and arch your tits closer to him.

Hoseok finishes in five sloppy strokes.

“Fuck ___”, he drops his cock into the mess he just made, playing with it by swirling his hips.

“Did you like that?” you ask him in a sweet voice.

He nods his head with closed eyes, catching his breath.

“You’re so sexy, babygirl. Can’t believe you let me do that”, he says and opens his eyes.

He drags his heavy cock down to your pussy, rubbing it through your well-loved folds and over your sensitive clit.

You squeak, closing your legs.

“Sensitive.”

He chuckles, kissing your knee.

“Sorry”, he says, pushing your legs open, “let me kiss it better.”

“Hoseok, god”, you gasp and sigh, melting into the sheets as he runs his mouth over your ruined body. This is so sinful and sensual but also soothing and relaxing.

He licks the cum from your chest, kisses the sore spots on your thighs and loves your neck with his lips. The mess between your legs he leaves. Personal preference maybe. You won’t complain. It’s so nice to leak him. You feel so fulfilled.

“How are you doing?” he whispers against your ear.

“I’m in shock.”

He chuckles, “is that a good thing?”

You nod your head vigorously, giggling.

He smiles, kissing your ear before he lifts his head. He is propped up on his elbow, resting against your side which makes it easy to caress your torso. His eyes are filled with soft adoration. He is glowing when he smiles.

“So how did I do? You liked what I did?”

“I get it now”, you whisper.

“Get what now?”

“Why you’re so cocky about your skills.”

He lowers his eyes shyly.

“Don’t say that.”

“You’re so good.”

“Ah, you”, he lets out and smooches you with a giggle. “Thanks. Wah, now I’m embarrassed.”

You snicker, “don’t be. I liked it so much. Oh god, I need a minute.”

“Mhm, take your time. I’ll be here to take care of you”, he says and uses the moments of relaxation to kiss you all over your body. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No”, you sigh, writhing in relaxing pleasure. You don’t mind at all. You could never mind him. He is permanently settled in your brain, permanently living into your heart and permanently carved into your walls.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”, he whispers, kissing your inner thighs. They smell like sex. Hoseok soaks up the scent like an addict, leaving marks of devotion next to the spots his rough handling left. He leaves out your pussy again.

“Why do you do that?” you ask, playing with his hair.

“Do what?” he asks, looking up from your lower stomach.

“Leave it out”, you say, rolling your hips up.

“Because I can and I want to”, he purrs, kissing a quick path up to your face. He lies down next to you, cradling your face. “And because you should feel me a little longer.”

“But how will I get up and eat my croffles?”

He smiles against your lips and kisses you.

“Breakfast in bed, duh.”

“Really?” you ask, eyes widened in surprise. Such romance is new from him. He makes your heart race.

“Mhm, really. You should relax, let me treat my woman.”

His woman. He kept saying it as he fucked you. You don’t correct him. You smile and nod your head.

“Yeah, okay. But I can’t guarantee that I can keep my hands to myself when you do.”

“Do you have to be somewhere today?”

“No. But I don’t see how-”

“Then I don’t see the problem”, he flirts and pecks your lips.

You get it now. And it makes you giggle. He smiles, pecking your cheek.

“Relax. I’ll be back with breakfast”, he says and before he rolls out of bed, you stop him.

You steal a kiss, ending it by biting his lower lip. He smiles at you, eyes sparkly and infatuated by you.

“Don’t take too long, please.”

“Promise”, he seals it with a peck then finally gets out of bed to leave the bedroom naked.

“Aren’t you forgetting your clothes?”

“I cook best naked.” He gives you a cocky grin and a wink then closes the door.

“Fuck”, you drop into the sheets and blow raspberries. It is official, you won’t ever get him out of your head.

[hoperecs]

Title: Suck It Part 1

Pairing: Reader/Jung Hoseok

Summary: What starts as lingering glances and offhand touches turns into something neither of you can ignore. You're not supposed to fall for someone on tour, especially not him. But between stolen moments and rising tension, it's only a matter of time before everything changes.

Word Count: 13.1k

Part 2

read on ao3

The room stills as Hoseok walks in, his confident aura palpable. His easy smile and effortless cool seem to draw the air toward him, like gravity bending to his presence. It’s always fascinating to see the way he commands a room without saying a single word. Your breath catches, despite having rehearsed with him and the rest of the dancers for weeks now. That spark of awe hasn’t dimmed. If anything, it's grown, fueled by the moments he’s given you. The encouraging nods,  and the praise he doesn’t usually offer lightly.

Hoseok’s gaze sweeps over the group, and when it lands on you, his grin widens just slightly. “Alright, team. Let’s go hard today. I want the energy up, no holding back,” he says, his voice warm but firm. 

The room bursts into motion, everyone eager to match the energy Hoseok expects. The rehearsal is grueling but electric, every step and every movement carrying weight and purpose. You throw yourself into the choreography, pushing your limits, aware of Hoseok’s eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. The senior dancers seem to notice too, their expressions tight, their movements sharper than usual as if they’re trying to outshine you. Good luck. 

The tension lingers in the air, but you keep your focus. You’ve worked too hard to let their jealousy rattle you now. Every move, every count, is an opportunity to prove yourself, and to everyone else, why you belong here.

By the time Hoseok claps his hands, signaling the end of the rehearsal, your muscles ache, and sweat clings to your skin. “Good work today, everyone,” he says, his voice carrying genuine approval for once. “Let’s keep building on this energy. Get some rest and stay hydrated. We are just a few weeks out now.”

The team disperses, some dancers chatting in low voices while others grab their bags and file out. You linger to stretch, avoiding the sideways glances from the senior dancers as they leave in a cluster. Their whispers trail behind them, but you block it out, focusing instead on your breathing as you pack your things. 

Feeling the need to clear your head, you wander into an empty practice room down the hall. The space is quiet, the mirrors reflecting the stillness. You drop your bag by the wall and start running through a few sections of the choreography on your own. The rhythm grounds you, each movement a reminder of why you’re here. 

“Still working?”

The familiar voice makes you freeze mid-step. You turn to see Hoseok leaning in the doorway, his expression soft but unreadable. He steps inside, letting the door close behind him. 

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here,” you admit, your voice a little shy. 

“I could say the same to you,” he replies with a faint smile. “You already gave everything in rehearsal. What’s keeping you here?”

You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lips. “I guess…I just needed a minute to breathe. To clear my head.”

Hoseok crosses the room, his movements unhurried. “I noticed the way some of them were acting today,” he says, cutting straight to the heart of it. “I wanted to check in with you after rehearsal, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone.”

Your chest tightens, embarrassment and frustration swirling together. The things you overheard earlier reply in your mind, stinging like fresh wounds. You’d walked into the changing room mid-whisper, and though they stopped when they saw you, the smirks and knowing looks said it all. The other dancers' whispers were sharp, accusing you of things so far from the truth they almost felt laughable—if it didn’t hurt so much. They assume you’ve slept with someone, blackmailed staff, or even bribed Hoseok to get the opportunities you’ve earned. None of it is true. You pour everything into this, long nights perfecting choreography, pushing through exhaustion, and showing up with relentless determination. All you want is to be accepted and appreciated. But it doesn’t matter to them. They refuse to see your effort, dismissing it all as underserved favoritism. Now standing in front of Hoseok, the weight of those baseless accusations feels heavier, but the steady warmth in his gaze offers a sliver of relief. Without needing to hear the details, he seems to know exactly what’s on your mind, and the sincerity in his presence alone reminds you why you’ve fought so hard to be here. 

“I’m fine. Really,” you say quickly.

Hoseok’s eyes search yours for a moment, as if trying to gauge how much of that “fine” is genuine. His expression softens, and he steps closer, his tone careful but firm. “You don’t have to say that. I know what it’s like being in the spotlight, having people assume the worst just because they don’t know your story or don’t want to see your talent for what it is. It’s not fair, and it’s not right.”

Your throat tightens, the effort to hold back the emotions you’ve been bottling up threatening to break. You nod, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’ve worked so hard, Hoseok,” you admit quietly, your voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. “Every single thing I’ve gotten, I earned. But no matter how hard I push myself, they don’t see that. They don’t want to see it.”

He exhales softly, a look of understanding crossing his face. “They’re threatened,” he says simply. “By your talent, your energy, and the way you carry yourself. That’s not on you, that’s on them.” His voice drops slightly, more serious now. “But I need you to promise me something: don’t let their insecurities dim your light. You’re here because you deserve to be here. Nothing anyone says can take that away.”

You blink, his words settling over you like a warm blanket. For a moment, the weight on your chest eases, and you feel seen. Not just as a dancer, but as someone who’s been fighting for their place. “Thank you,” you whisper, the sincerity in your tone matching his.

Hoseok smiles gently, his hand twitching like he’s considering reaching out but stops himself. “Don’t thank me for telling the truth,” he says with a wink, his tone lightening. “But if you need to talk, about this, about anything. I’m here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone.”

The warmth in his words stays with you as he steps back, giving you space. He gestures to the empty room with a small grin. “Now, let’s see what you’ve been working on. Show me that fire they’re so jealous of.”

The silence in the practice room becomes a melody of its own as you reset to the opening pose, your heart thundering as you meet Hoseok’s gaze in the mirror. You take a steadying breath and let the music in your head guide you. With each movement, you channel everything—the doubts, the whispers, the quiet anger, and the determination that keeps you moving forward. You’ve rehearsed this choreography countless times, but tonight, it feels different. Hoseok’s presence sharpens your focus, pushing you to dance not just for yourself but for the truth of your abilities.

As you finish, your chest heaving from the exertion, you finally look at him. His arms are crossed, his expression unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes tells you everything. He takes a step forward, clapping once, slow and deliberate. “That,” he says, his voice low but filled with certainty, “is exactly why you’re here. No one can take that away from you.”

You don’t trust yourself to respond, simply nodding as you gather your things. Hoseok doesn’t say anything more, giving you a parting glance that lingers just long enough to leave you wondering.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next rehearsal is nothing short of brutal. The room pulses with intensity as bodies move in perfect synchrony, sweat painting the floor beneath them. Each beat of the music is met with sharp, deliberate motion as the group drills the choreography again and again, the echo of sneakers and stomps filling the mirrored space. You’re dancing like muscle memory has taken over, fluid, focused, determined, barely noticing the burning in your limbs anymore. 

After a full run-through, the choreographer finally calls for a break. Everyone collapses to the floor or grabs their water bottles, panting and grateful. You grab a towel to dab the sweat from your neck, catching your breath when the lead choreographer suddenly steps forwards again. 

“Alright, listen up,” he says, his voice slicing through the hum of low conversation. “J-Hope choreographed a new section that will feature three pairs. He’ll be choosing who gets the spotlight tomorrow. Until then, you’ll be working with assigned partners to learn the duet. Learn quickly and show me you want this.”

You sit up straighter as he begins pairing dancers. There’s a flicker of anxiety in your chest, this section is important. It’s not just about technique anymore. It’s about chemistry, presence, making people feel something. 

Your name is called alongside Heeseung’s, and relief washes over you. He’s one of the few who doesn’t treat you like an outsider. Maybe it’s because he’s newer to the team too, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t get involved in the drama. Either way, you’ll take it. 

The music shifts to something lower, grittier, slower. You both watch as the assistant choreographer demonstrates the duet. It’s bold, sensual, and more intimate than anything you’ve done with this group before. Hands sliding over waists, synchronized steps that pull the dancers close before sending them apart again, dramatic pauses that demand eye contact. It’s not raunchy, it’s electric, and it’s meant to make the audience feel something. 

You glance at Heeseung as the demo ends. He just raises his brows with a quiet smirk and says, “Ready?” And just like that, you fall into step. 

Heeseung matches your energy beat for beat. His movement is clean, sharp, but when the music calls for it, he melts into the flow like honey. His facial expressions are deadly. Confident, teasing, completely in sync with the mood. Rehearsing with him doesn't feel like work; it’s fun, even a little thrilling. For the first time in days, you’re reminded why you love this. 

But not everyone is thriving. You notice Mina and her usual crew struggling to grasp the rhythm and comfort of the pairing. Some of the girls look visibly uncomfortable, hesitating at the close contact or fumbling through transitions. There’s a mean spirited satisfaction in watching the girls who usually whisper about you now floundering under pressure. Maybe it’s petty, but it feels like karma is right on time. 

“YN and Heeseung, come to the front.”

You both step forward, brushing past someone who audibly sighs and rolls their eyes behind you. The choreographer ignores it, gesturing for you two to demonstrate. 

“Watch them,” he says to the rest of the room. “This is what I’m looking for.”

The music kicks in and you lose yourself in it. You give every step your full attention, every beat your best expression, letting the tension and chemistry between you and Heeseung do the work. When the final pose hits and the music fades, the room is quiet before the choreographer claps once, satisfied, but only with you and Heeseung.

“Again,” he says simply. And so you do it again. And again. Until you stop counting.

By the time rehearsal ends, your shirt is sticking to your back and your thighs ache with the effort of hours spent pushing yourself to the limit. You’re grabbing your things when a familiar voice calls your name. 

“Hey!” Yunjin jogs up beside you, practically bouncing. “You killed that duet. Like, seriously—if Hoseok doesn’t pick you tomorrow he’s blind. That section is so good. I love it.”

You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

Yunjin narrows hers. “Okay. What’s up? You’re not freaking out about Mina again, are you?”

“I’m not freaking out,” you say quickly, but the look on her face tells you she doesn’t buy it. You sigh. “I just…we cannot mess up tomorrow. Hoseok is going to be extra critical. We have to be perfect.”

Yunjin giggles. “You sound like you’re about to audition for the Olympics or something.”

“We kind of are. The duet is a big deal.”

A mocking voice chimes in from behind you. “As if he would pick you.”

You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. Mina.

She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, one hip cocked like she owns the hallway. Her perfectly arched eyebrow is raised, her lips curl into a smug little smirk. There’s no denying she’s talented, probably one of the best dancers in the crew, but her jealousy has always poisoned her shine. 

You turn to face her slowly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “You should focus on your own part before worrying about mine.”

Mina’s smile tightens, but she doesn’t reply right away. Her gaze flicks to Yunjin and then back to you, eyes narrowed. “We’ll see who he picks tomorrow.”

She walks off without another word, her ponytail swinging like a warning behind her. 

Yunjin scoffs beside you. “She’s just mad you were asked to demonstrate. Again.”

“Still,” you murmur, staring down the hallway. “Tomorrow is going to be a war.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next day, the rehearsal room buzzes with nervous energy before anyone even steps onto the floor. There’s an edge to every voice, a sense that something important is about to happen. You can feel it in your bones. Today matters.

You’re already stretching in the corner when thet door swings open and Hoseok walks in, sunglasses perched on his nose, a cap pulled low, and that unmistakable aura trailing behind him like static electricity. The room seems to exhale all at once, tension morphing into something else. Anticipation, maybe. Respect. He’s calm but focused, nodding a silent greeting to the choreographer and a few dancers he passes on the way in. Then his eyes sweep the room. 

When they land on you, he gives a small smile, barely there, but enough to make your stomach flip for a second before you snap your attention back to your warm up. He’s always been kind, professional, but tough. Hoseok doesn’t hand out praise easily. You have to earn it.

“Alright team,” he says, clapping once, his voice sharper than the last time you heard it. “I’ve seen the footage from yesterday. Some of it was promising. Some of it…needs work.”

A few dancers shift uncomfortably. Mina stiffens beside you.

“We’re going to run all the pair choreo. I want to see full energy, no holding back. Expressions. Intensity. Chemistry. Everything.” He pauses. “At the end of rehearsal, I’ll be choosing three pairs to feature.”

There’s a murmur through the group, some excited, some anxious. Hoseok doesn’t reveal the last part of the plan, but the stakes are already high. The chance to be in a featured pair for a section he choreographed? That’s already enough to make people push past their limits. 

You and Heeseung watch from the sidelines as the first duets go up. Some are good, technically clean, and well rehearsed. Others lack a spark. Mina’s routine is sharp, but her partner feels like an afterthought. You can almost see her trying too hard to win instead of just dance. 

Finally, your names are called.

You move into position with Heeseung, exchanging one quick glance before the music hits.

And then, it’s all instinct. 

You both dive into the choreo like you’ve done this hundreds of times, like you were made to move together. There’s tension, heat, and a boldness to every step. Your hands slide into places like muscle memory, your eyes lock when they need to, and your movements match so seamlessly it barely feels like performance, it feels like connection. 

When the final beat hits and you hold the last pose, the silence in the room feels different. 

Then Hoseok claps. Just once. Crisp and deliberate. 

“That,” Hoseok says, a smile creeping onto his face. “That’s the energy I want.”

You pull back slightly, catching your breath as the music fades. Heeseung subtly bumps your shoulder with his, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. 

“Take five,” Hoseok says. “Then we’ll run it one last time with the final picks.”

You step off to the side, heart still pounding, when Yunjin beelines for you with wide eyes. 

“He clapped,” she hisses, gripping your arm like she might explode. “You know what that means.”

You shrug like it’s no big deal, but you’re still buzzing. Hoseok never claps for the group unless something really hits. The look in his eyes when you're finished…there was something extra there. Something calculating. 

Across the room, Mina stares daggers through your reflection, arms crossed so tightly it looks painful. You ignore her.

When the break ends, everyone regathers, tension thick in the air.

Hoseok stands at the front again. “I’ve made my decisions,” he says. “These three pairs will be featured in the sections.”

He starts calling names—Heeseung and your name first.

Your stomach flips. You don’t look at Mina, but you can practically feel the steam coming off her. 

Hoseok finishes naming the other two pairs, then adds, “One more thing.”

The room stills.

“There’s another slot. Not a pair.” He pauses just long enough for everyone to start glancing around. “One dancer does the duet with me.”

You blink.

A duet with Hoseok? A sharp, electric silence stretches through the room as he scans the group again, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll decide after one final run through,” he says, stepping back. “So if you’re holding back…now’s your last chance.” 

The final run-through feels heavier, like everyone is pushing beyond their limits. The chosen pairs are locked in, but that solo duet spot is still up for grabs.

You give the routine everything. Every movement, every look, every shift of weight is intentional. You know Hoseok is watching—really watching—and there’s no room for mistakes. Heeseung matches your energy, and for a second, you forget about the stakes, about the competition. It’s just you and the music, your body moving like it belongs in this moment.

When the last beat lands, you hold your final pose, breathless, feeling the weight of Hoseok’s stare.

Then, after a long pause, he exhales and nods.

“Alright.” His voice is calm, but the decision is final. “The featured three pairs are set. And for the solo…”

The tension is thick. You swear you hear someone’s breath hitch.

“…YN.”

Your heart slams against your ribs.

There’s a ripple of reaction around you, some hushed murmurs, a sharp intake of breath. Mina stiffens, her arms crossing, jaw tight.

Hoseok continues, his voice steady. “It’s a shame to separate such a strong pair, but YN is the best pick for this.” His eyes flicker to Heeseung for a brief moment before returning to you. “You have the control, the expression, and the versatility this role needs.”

You barely register Yunjin’s hand squeezing yours in excitement before Hoseok speaks again.

“Heeseung, you’ll be with Yunjin.”

Yunjin lets out a tiny squeak, trying, and failing, to keep her composure. Heeseung just grins, giving her an encouraging nod.

That’s it. That’s the final lineup.

You and Hoseok in the front. Three pairs behind.

Mina…nowhere.

The realization sinks in across the room, and you don’t miss the way her hands clench into fists at her sides, but she says nothing. Doesn’t make a scene. Just lifts her chin slightly, as if daring anyone to pity her.

Hoseok claps his hands together. “That’s it. Rehearsal’s over. Get some rest and we run full-out tomorrow.”

You exhale, the adrenaline still pulsing through you.

As the dancers begin filtering out, Yunjin throws an arm around your shoulder, practically bouncing. “Are you kidding me? With Hoseok? Front and center? You’re about to be iconic.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe it.”

She grins. “Believe it. And be ready because if he’s dancing with you, he’s expecting perfection.”

You already know that. And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.

It feels like a challenge you’re ready to take.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The room empties out slowly, dancers murmuring their goodbyes as they head for the exit. You start to follow Yunjin, but before you can take another step, Hoseok’s voice calls out behind you.

“YN, stay for a minute.” Just beyond the doorway you see Yunjin pause. Hoseok notices and addresses her. “Yunjin, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

You pause, turning back to face him. He stands in the center of the room, rolling his shoulders out, an easy confidence in his stance. Your heart kicks up slightly. You take a slow breath, stepping back onto the dance floor as the last of the others disappear down the hallway. The door swings shut, leaving just the two of you in the massive rehearsal space.

Hoseok tilts his head, studying you for a beat before speaking. “I wanted to run through a few things. It’s important that we’re comfortable with each other before we start full rehearsals with this.”

You nod, shifting your weight slightly. It makes sense. Dance, especially a duet, is about trust.

“I know you can handle yourself,” Hoseok continues. “You’re an amazing dancer. But I also know it can be intimidating dancing with someone like me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he raises an eyebrow, and you know he’s right.

It’s not that you doubt your skill. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t good enough. But Hoseok is Hoseok. Years of experience, endless stage presence, and an almost supernatural ability to make every move feel effortless. It’s impossible not to feel the weight of that.

Still, you refuse to let nerves show. “I’ll be fine,” you say.

He grins. “Good. Then let’s start.”

You move into position. The choreography isn’t foreign anymore, but the difference is immediate—this isn’t Heeseung. He is a few inches shorter than your previous partner and Hoseok moves with a fluidity and confidence that makes every step feel like second nature to him.

But when it comes time to place your hands on him, you hesitate. It’s just for a fraction of a second, but he notices.

Hoseok chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Pretend I’m Heeseung.”

You blink.

“It’s the same thing,” he says easily. “Same hands, same pressure. No difference.”

No difference. Right. You swallow, nodding, and this time, when your hands find their place, you commit to it.

Hoseok hums approvingly. “Better. But—” He shifts, taking your wrists in his hands, adjusting them slightly. His grip is warm, firm but not forceful. “More weight here. Less here. Feel the difference?”

You do. He guides you through it, step by step, his touch light but precise. The smallest corrections, pressure, angles, breath control and as you move, something shifts.

The hesitation melts away, replaced by something new. Tension. Not the bad kind. The kind that makes every movement electric, every glance charged. Hoseok notices it too, but he doesn’t acknowledge it outright. He just meets your eyes for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away.

“Good,” he says simply. “That’s enough for now.”

You exhale, feeling something unravel inside you.

For a while, neither of you says anything. You both just sit on the floor, catching your breath. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable.

Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you say, “I danced from when I was three until I was fifteen. I don’t know how they got the idea I just started a few years ago. Dance was my whole life for most of my life.”

Hoseok turns his head slightly, listening.

“I had to stop because I tore my ACL.” You glance down at your knee, absently tracing a pattern on your leggings. “I recovered pretty fast, but when I tried to come back, my peers had already gotten too far ahead. I felt like I couldn’t compete anymore.”

You don’t look at him, but you can feel him watching you. 

“So I quit.” You let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I didn’t dance at all for years. Until about three years ago.”

Hoseok leans back on his hands. “What changed?”

Your lips curve slightly. “I saw a BTS dance practice.” His eyebrows lift in surprise. “I don’t even remember which one it was,” you admit, shaking your head. “But something about the way you guys moved made me want to move again. I started learning choreography for fun and before I knew it…I was back.”

A beat of silence passes before he speaks again.

“That’s crazy,” he murmurs. Then softer, “In a good way.”

You finally glance at him, and there’s something unreadable in his expression. A flicker of something behind his eyes, like he’s processing more than he’s saying. And then he smiles, slow and knowing. 

“Well,” he says, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand. “Guess that means this dance is a full-circle moment, huh?”

Your chest tightens just a little. You take his hand.

And as he pulls you up, you think—yeah. Maybe it is. Your hand is still warm from his as you gather your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You expect him to head out first, maybe give a casual “see you tomorrow,” but instead, Hoseok lingers near the door, waiting for you. 

“You ready?” he asks.

You blink. “Uh…yeah.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

You give him a sideways glance. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I said I would,” he cuts in, gentle but firm. “Told Yunjin I’d get you home safe.”

You’re not sure if he’s doing it out of politeness or something else, but you nod anyway. “Okay.”

The night air is cool when you step outside the building, still warm from rehearsal. Hoseok walks beside you, his hood pulled up again, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He doesn’t say much at first, and neither do you. It’s a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that settles in when something meaningful just happened.

You expect him to point you toward the train or call a staff car to take you home.

Instead, he falls into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You don’t have to walk me,” you say gently, glancing over.

He shrugs. “I know.”

You pause. “Then why are you?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer right away. He keeps his gaze forward, but you catch the faintest lift of his lips. “I said I’d make sure you got home safe, didn’t I?”

You smile softly, heart fluttering. “You didn’t have to actually do that. People are gonna talk.”

“They already do,” he says, voice light, teasing. “Might as well make it worth it.”

You laugh, and he grins at the sound.

As you walk, the sharp edges of the professional Hoseok, the perfectionist, the dance leader, the choreographer, start to fade away. Instead, something else emerges. Softer. Warmer. This is the version of him you’ve only seen in clips. The one who makes dumb jokes on Run BTS, laughs with his whole chest, and gets way too into silly games.

“You know,” he says, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, “you looked like you were gonna pass out the first time I corrected your placement.”

“I was not,” you protest, bumping your shoulder lightly into his. “Okay, maybe a little. You’re kind of a big deal.”

He laughs. “Nah. I’m just a guy who never stops dancing. Kind of annoying, actually.”

You shake your head. “You’re really not.”

There’s a pause, and when you glance over, he’s watching you with that same unreadable look from the studio. It’s not intense or overwhelming, it’s just steady. Thoughtful.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he tells you. “You’re a good dancer and you feel the music. That’s rare.”

Your cheeks warm. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I said you inspired me.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” he replies. “You’ve got something.”

You walk a few more paces in silence before his voice comes again, this time quieter. “And hey…I meant the other thing, too.”

You glance at him.

“If something’s ever messing with your head, whatever it is, you can tell me.” He doesn’t look at you when he says it. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

The memory of that conversation in the empty studio flashes through your mind, the way his voice had softened when he told you he knew what it was like, the way he saw straight through you without prying. You swallow the sudden lump in your throat.

“I’ll remember that,” you say quietly.

He nods like that’s enough. You reach your building quicker than you thought. When you stop in front of the gate, you half expect him to wave you off and leave. Instead, Hoseok lingers.

“This is me,” you say, turning to him.

He nods, taking a step back but not quite leaving. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be brutal.”

You smile. “Looking forward to it.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then gives a small salute and turns to go. You don’t move until he disappears around the corner.

Inside, the lights are on. Yunjin is waiting, perched on the edge of the couch, a snack bag in her lap and a look of pure, concentrated mischief on her face.

You don’t even get your shoes off before she pounces.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

You blink, taking a step away from her. “I—”

She stands. “Nope. Don’t even try to play it cool. You stayed late with J-Hope. You walked home with J-Hope. And you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” you mumble, which only makes her laugh harder.

“You so are,” she says, grabbing your arm and dragging you toward the couch. “Spill. Every little detail. Right now.”

And you do. Eventually.

But as you tell her the story, there’s one part you leave out. A moment too small to explain, but impossible to forget:

The way Hoseok looked at you when he said, “You can tell me anything.”

Like he meant it.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The studio is quiet now. Most of the dancers have filtered out, the buzz of today’s rehearsal replaced with the faint hum of a speaker left on low volume. You’re sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of you, rolling out your calves with a foam roller. The mirror reflects the tired set of your shoulders, your hair sticking to your neck, and the slightly dazed look in your eyes.

You’re not sure when Hoseok came back in, but you hear the door click shut and the soft shuffle of his steps before he drops onto the floor beside you.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just sits close enough that your arms could brush if you leaned a little to the side. Then he speaks and it’s quiet, but direct.

“You good?”

You glance at him, blinking like you hadn’t expected him to actually sit down.

“Yeah,” you say quickly. Too quickly. “Just tired.”

Hoseok doesn’t look convinced. His expression is steady, unreadable like it always is when he’s being careful with his words.

“You danced like you were somewhere else today,” he says, not unkindly. “Still sharp, but…distracted. Off. It wasn’t physical, it was in your head.”

You press your lips together, pretending to focus on the roller beneath your thigh. “It’s nothing serious. Just some…catty stuff.”

He tilts his head. “Catty like ‘someone wore the same shoes as me,’ or catty like ‘people are being assholes behind your back’?”

You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

Hoseok shifts his weight, leaning forward a little. His voice softens, but there’s an edge of seriousness under it. “It clearly does matter. If something’s going on that’s affecting how you feel here, I need to know.”

You glance at him. His brows are drawn in concern, not in a nosy way, but in that quiet, careful way of someone who’s watching more closely than he lets on.

You try to smile, but it feels tight. “It’s just some girls being salty. Nothing new.”

“Was it Mina?”

You pause. That alone tells him everything.

He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What did they say?”

You shake your head, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long sip to stall.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, gentler now. “I’m not asking because I want drama. I just don’t like the idea of you being put in a bad spot because of me.”

You blink. “You?”

He meets your gaze, expression open. “I’ve been around long enough to know what people say when they think attention isn’t fair. Especially when it comes from someone like me. I shouldn’t have pulled you aside yesterday without making it clear to the group why. It gave them room to assume things.”

Your chest tightens. “It’s not your fault.”

“But they’re whispering about you, aren’t they?”

You look down. “Yeah,” you admit softly. “They said I must’ve begged for the rehearsal. Or offered something in return. That I don’t deserve the spot.”

There’s a heavy silence. Hoseok doesn't respond right away.

When you glance up, his jaw is tight, eyes unreadable.

“I can talk to them,” he offers.

You shake your head instantly. “No. Please don’t. That would just make it worse. If they think I ran to you, they’ll hate me even more.”

He doesn’t argue, but you can feel the tension in him.

“You shouldn't have to deal with this,” he says finally, quieter than before. “None of this is your fault. You work hard. You earned your spot. And anyone who can’t see that, who chooses not to see it, doesn’t deserve to be taken seriously.”

You nod, barely. He watches you for a moment longer, then shifts slightly, bumping your knee with his.

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

You look over at him.

“I mean it,” he says. “Even if we’re not close or whatever yet. If stuff like this keeps happening, please don’t carry it alone.”

You nod again, this time more sincerely.

“Thanks,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He gives you a small smile, then gets to his feet and holds out a hand.

“C’mon. Show me where you got stuck earlier. Let’s work through it before we call it.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, and before you can say anything, he’s already stepping back toward the center of the studio gesturing for you to follow.

“Let’s go from the beginning,” he says, sliding his foot across the floor into position. “Just our duet. No pressure…feel it out.”

You nod and move into place, facing him, your heart still a little tight from the conversation, but lighter than before. The music kicks in low from the speaker, just loud enough to hear the rhythm, and you both fall into motion.

You mirror each other for a few counts before stepping into the partnered section, his hands catching yours, the turn, the lift, the slow lean-in that has your breath catching for a reason that has nothing to do with the choreography.

His eyes flick up to meet yours for just a second, the barest glint of mischief in them.

“You sure you’re not mad at me?” he asks mid-spin, voice teasing as you land.

You blink, confused. “What?”

“Your grip is kind of intense,” he jokes, laughing softly.

You scoff and roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush all the same. “Maybe I am mad at you.”

“Damn. I knew it,” he says dramatically, tossing his head back in mock despair before resetting for the next movement. “Guess I’ll go cry in the corner. Alone. With my incredible sense of rhythm.”

You huff a laugh, the tightness in your chest easing just a bit more.

The next run-through goes smoother. Your timing aligns perfectly, and the tension that’s been coiled in your body all morning starts to melt away. Between counts, Hoseok slips into goofy-mode. He’s pulling exaggerated faces during transitions, pretending to wobble like a baby deer when you jump, and fake-swooning when you land a tricky turn.

“You trying to show me up?” he asks between breaths, hands on his hips. “I thought this was a partnership.”

You smirk. “Sounds like someone’s feeling threatened.”

He gasps. “Okay. Wow. I’m being disrespected in my own studio.”

You giggle, covering your mouth. “You started it.”

“Me?” He points to himself with wide eyes. “I’m innocent.”

“You’re literally never innocent.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Yeah, but I’m cute.”

You hesitate just long enough for him to notice, your brain scrambling to process whether that was flirting or just…Hoseok being Hoseok.

He grins like he knows exactly what he’s doing and spins toward the mirror, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair in exaggerated slow-motion. “Okay. Again from the top,” he declares dramatically. “This time with ten percent more flirtation and twenty percent more sass.”

You snort. “Is that the official note?”

“Yes. I’m very professional.”

He catches your eye in the mirror, and you smile without meaning to. He returns it, softer this time, a little more real.

“Seriously,” he says, tone dropping just a bit, “you good now?”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Hoseok just nods, like he expected nothing less, and lifts a hand toward the speaker. “Then let’s dance.”

And this time, when the music starts again, you really let yourself move.

The music flows around you, the rhythm pulling you back into your body as you and Hoseok move together again. Everything sharpens, the way your hands connect, the heat of exertion building under your skin, the way he smiles when you hit the counts just right.

You’re in the final eight, the part where your bodies come close—close enough that your breath catches and you almost forget you’re supposed to keep moving. Hoseok’s palm slides to the small of your back, guiding you through the turn. His voice is low but playful.

“See?” he says. “Told you we’d get it.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth lift. “You’re not always right, you know.”

“I am when it comes to this,” he grins. “And also when it comes to—”

The studio door creaks open with a soft click.

You both freeze.

He’s still close. His hand is still on your waist. Your breath still feels just a little too loud in your throat.

Sana stands in the doorway, blinking like she didn’t expect to see anyone. Her brows lift a fraction as she takes in the scene, your closeness, the music, the fact that you’re both very clearly in the middle of something.

“Oh,” she says, smiling a little too wide. “Didn’t realize there was still rehearsal going on.”

You step back immediately, your body going stiff as you reach for your water bottle, suddenly hyper-aware of how this must look.

Hoseok clears his throat, casual but a little clipped. “Private practice,” he says evenly. “We’re running duet sections.”

Sana’s eyes flick between you two. “Right. Of course.” Her tone is perfectly polite, but there’s something just beneath it. You know she’ll twist this. She doesn’t need evidence, just the image.

She lingers a second longer before turning toward the lockers. “Don’t mind me,” she calls over her shoulder. “Just grabbing my sweatshirt.”

You glance at Hoseok, but he’s already looking at you.

“Ignore her,” he says under his breath. “This is our time. Let her talk if she wants.”

But your chest has already tightened again.

You nod, trying to keep the knot in your stomach from growing. “Let’s just finish the run.”

He hesitates, eyes scanning your face, then gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Okay. From the top. Let’s kill it.”

The music starts again, but it’s harder now to ignore the whispers that you know are coming.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The studio is already humming with quiet chatter and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor when you walk in the next morning. Your duffel hangs heavy on your shoulder, but not as heavy as the pit in your stomach. The last rehearsal before tour. The final run of the full program. It should feel exciting.

Instead, the energy feels…off.

You’re barely a few steps inside when you catch it. Low whispers, the kind that stop just as quickly as they start. You glance toward the mirrors, where Sana and Mina are stretching with two other girls. One of them, Momo, smirks and leans in closer to Mina, who’s pretending to focus on her split stretch.

“Must’ve been a late night,” Mina says under her breath, not looking at you.

Sana hums thoughtfully. “Mm. Guess some people need the extra help.”

The girls snicker, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. Yunjin, walking just behind you, hears it too. She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, “I swear to god,” but you gently tug on her arm before she can say anything louder.

“Not worth it,” you murmur.

Yunjin shoots you a glare, protective and fiery. “They think they’re slick, but they’re just sad.”

You give her a small smile, but the edge of it wavers.

You take your usual spot on the floor to begin warming up, trying to stay focused, but the tension in the room is palpable. Everyone knows this is a big day. The full run-through. All eyes will be on Hoseok’s final decisions who shines, who doesn’t, and who might get more spotlight once the tour kicks off.

Your nerves were already frayed, but now the added scrutiny. The stares, the fake laughter, the whispered theories about why Hoseok chose you for the duet, it makes your stomach churn.

You stretch in silence, headphones in, trying to block them out. You know you earned your place. You know. But it doesn’t stop the noise.

Hoseok walks in fifteen minutes later, ball cap low over his brow and a coffee in hand. The room shifts instantly. Everyone straightens, energy tightening like a wire pulled taut.

His eyes flick across the studio as he greets everyone with a quick, “Morning,” before his gaze lands briefly on you.

It lingers for just a second.

You don’t smile. You don’t react.

You can’t. Not with every pair of eyes watching.

“Alright,” Hoseok claps his hands together. “Let’s run it top to bottom. No stops. Treat it like a real show. Find your focus and give me everything you’ve got.”

People start moving to their places, but the whispers haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve just gone quieter slinking under the surface like snakes in tall grass.

You swallow hard and exhale through your nose. One more rehearsal. Then the tour begins, and maybe hopefully you’ll finally be too busy proving yourself to hear them at all.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The first few shows in Seoul go off without a hitch. Every cue lands, every formation clicks, and the energy in the KSPO Dome is electric. Hoseok commands the stage like he was born on it, and somehow, being beside him under the lights feels more natural than nerve-wracking. You move in sync, you hit every mark, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers that echo in your chest long after you leave the stage.

But the online reaction? A different story. 

Korean fans aren’t exactly thrilled about the close choreography between you and Hoseok. Some accuse the creative team of pushing too hard for attention, as if this wasn’t his idea. Others aren’t shy about voicing their discomfort, dissecting every interaction between the two of you with brutal intensity.You don’t let it get to you, you’ve worked too hard to be shaken by faceless usernames and half baked speculation.

Brooklyn night one is just as electric. The crowd is louder, rowdier, and when you step off stage soaked in sweat, there’s a fire in your blood that you don’t want to put out.

Then comes night two and the day starts to unravel just a few hours before showtime.

You’re in the dressing room, tying your hair back, when the stage manager walks in looking like she’s carrying a live grenade. “Wardrobe issue. One of the interns hung your outfits in the wrong place and they are ruined,” she says, holding up her phone. “Customs seized the backup costumes when they came into the U.S. The shipment paperwork was flagged.”

You blink. “All of them?”

“Everything. Yours, the duets, even the encore outfits.”

Your stomach sinks. “So…what are we supposed to wear?”

She disappears behind a garment rack and pulls out a hanger. It holds a cropped jersey with the tour logo in silver glitter across the chest. On the back, it reads in huge block letters:

HOPE’S GIRL

You stare. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“They were from a scrapped number. We have a full box of them in the truck. They’re clean, they’re pressed, and they fit the aesthetic.”

You eye the jersey. It’s cute. Actually, it’s really cute. But it’s also really cropped, your stomach will be fully on display. And the name on the back? Way too bold.

“Isn’t this a little…” you gesture vaguely at the lettering. “Much?”

“Do you want to fly to Newark and sweet talk the customs agents yourself?” the manager asks, half-joking, half-panicked. “Because call time’s in thirty.”

You don’t have a choice. You change.

The jersey fits like it was made for you. Snug in all the right places, sleeves cuffed just above the elbow, hem hovering above your waist. You check yourself in the mirror, trying to ignore the lettering burning into your back.

When you step out, conversations stall. A few dancers glance over. One of the stylists lets out a low whistle. Then Hoseok turns, mid-discussion with a crew member, and his eyes land on you.

He freezes.

Then, slowly, he grins. Not the polite stage smile. The real one. The one that makes his eyes crinkle and your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the jersey. You glance down, suddenly hyper-aware of just how much skin you’re showing, and the text stretched across your shoulder blades.

Still, the moment passes. The music starts. The show goes on. But the mood sticks with you. A little unsettled, a little unsure. You look amazing. The crowd will scream. The performance will be flawless.

So why do you feel so weird inside?

The lights dim. The roar of the Barclays Center swells around you like a wave, and the opening VCR flickers to life on the screens above the stage. You’re already in place, heart hammering in your chest, fingers twitching at your sides as you wait for the music to drop.

The crowd is louder tonight, maybe it’s the weekend energy, maybe it’s just New York. Maybe it’s the jersey.

Your jersey.

The one that reads HOPE’S GIRL in massive silver letters across your back.

You try to shake it off. Focus. Breathe. You know the routine inside and out, muscle memory will take over. But as the spotlight hits and the opening beats explode through the arena, you can’t help the flare of heat that climbs your neck when you and Hoseok hit your first mark center stage.

He’s already smirking when he looks at you.

You swear it’s a little cockier than usual.

The crowd loses it when he reaches for you during the duet section. His hand grazes your waist, right where the cropped jersey ends, and you hear the collective shriek ripple through the venue like a current. You don't falter, not even for a beat, but your pulse skitters. You wonder if he notices. (He does.)

The chemistry tonight is different. Tighter. Sharper. Every move is crisp, charged, laced with something just below the surface. Hoseok doesn’t break character once, but there’s something extra in the way he watches you, like he’s feeding off the crowd’s energy, and you're the spark.

At one point, he leans in for a choreographed moment—faces close, breaths shared—and you swear you catch him whispering, “They’re gonna riot.”

You almost laugh. Almost.

Instead, you snap into the next move, heart pounding, mind focused, eyes locked.

When the last beat hits and the lights go black, the arena erupts. It’s deafening. Screams echo through your bones as the two of you jog offstage, breathless and slick with sweat. You’re grinning, high on adrenaline, already tugging your in-ear out when Hoseok turns to you in the wings.

“You crushed that,” he says, still breathless. “That jersey…” He whistles, grinning. “Might have started a war.”

You roll your eyes, breath hitching on a laugh. “Don’t even.”

But he just flashes that infuriating smile again. “Hope’s girl, huh?”

You shove his shoulder, but your cheeks burn, and even as the crew moves around you resetting for the next set, he lingers a second longer, eyes lingering like he’s memorizing you all over again.

The show ends in a blur of lights and music, the crowd's cheers still ringing in your ears as you make your way backstage. Your body aches from the intense performance, sweat dripping down your back as you strip off the jersey, feeling the cool air hit your skin. You’re breathing hard, but there’s a high buzzing through you, an energy that doesn’t quite fade yet.

Yunjin is there in an instant, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Okay, first of all,” she starts, eyes wide, “what was that?! You were literally on fire tonight. You looked so hot, I almost couldn’t concentrate! Like, how does that even happen?”

You laugh, wiping your face with a towel. “It was just the jersey, Yunjin.”

“Just the jersey?” She places a hand over her heart dramatically. “You’re telling me you don’t know what you were doing out there? The way it clung to you, the way you moved, if I were in the crowd, I’d be screaming my head off. Hoseok probably had to be holding himself back from jumping off stage just to catch you.”

You try not to grin, but the thought makes your chest tighten. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I am not. Babe, I don’t even know how you stayed so calm. I was practically hyperventilating on the sidelines watching you. You’re like…a goddess.”

Before you can reply, the sound of footsteps clicks through the hallway, and you know who it is before you even turn around.

Mina and Sana.

“Well, well,” Sana says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “look who’s enjoying the spotlight.”

Mina crosses her arms, eyes narrowing at the exposed skin of your stomach. “Must be nice. Wearing a jersey with ‘Hope’s Girl’ on it. Subtle.”

You don’t respond immediately, but you feel the tension creeping up your spine. Yunjin, however, isn’t having it.

“Really? That’s what you’re gonna focus on?” she shoots back, eyes flashing. “I think we all know the story behind the jersey, and it’s not like she went around asking for this attention.”

Sana smirks, a little too pleased with herself. “Sure, it’s just a scraped costume item. But only one of us got assigned that particular one, didn’t we?”

Mina’s gaze sharpens, her tone fake-sweet. “Yeah, just be careful. You might get too comfortable being everyone’s center of attention, those things don’t last long.”

Her words sting, but you keep your face neutral. You want to tell them to mind their business, but you hold back, not wanting to make a scene.

Yunjin steps closer, her voice low and cutting. “You guys are real classy, huh? Try not to be so obvious.”

Mina and Sana share a look before walking off, their footsteps echoing down the hall like a statement.

Yunjin exhales sharply, her fists clenched at her sides. “Seriously. Do they ever stop?”

You shrug, trying to shake it off. “Let them talk. They don’t get to decide what’s true.”

“Yeah, but damn, it’s hard not to hear them when they’re that loud,” Yunjin mutters, her eyes still on the retreating figures.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next few stops of the U.S. leg flow like muscle memory. Rehearsals, shows, after-show hangouts in hotel rooms or wherever you can find food that late. Everyone slips into their own rhythms. Little cliques form, some loud and chaotic, some quieter and tired. You and Yunjin are the latter, always rooming together, always ending the night whispering half-asleep jokes under hotel comforters, letting the adrenaline of performance burn off slowly.

Hoseok is kind to everyone, but there’s something a little softer in how he treats you. Even when he’s obviously exhausted with dark circles under his eyes and a  gravelly voice. He'll still toss you a grin in passing, a warm “good work today,” or a brief shoulder squeeze as he walks by. Nothing intense. Nothing you can’t explain away. But still, it lingers.

Mexico City feels different the moment the plane touches down.

The crowd is electric, louder than anything so far, and the setlist tonight gives the dancers a chance to shine, one particular number puts the girls front and center, a line of you holding onto each other’s hips, all sweat-slick skin and sharp movement, hip thrusts and rhythm pulsing through the floor.

You barely even register it when Mina’s fingers dig into your waist. Not at first.

But then she digs. Sharp nails through the thin fabric of your costume, pressing so hard it feels like they’re carving into you.

You flinch, barely, but your body keeps moving like it’s on autopilot. You smile, you hit every beat, you power through. There’s a camera somewhere. Fans screaming. You don’t miss a step. But when you hit the wings, adrenaline drops all at once, and the pain settles in.

You rush toward the wardrobe first thing, heart thudding in your chest. “Hey, do we—do we have any backup options?” you ask, trying to keep your voice level. “Like...something with more coverage?”

Thankfully, they do now. You swap out the crop top and slip into something looser. The scratches burn, but at least they’re not visible anymore.

You don’t think anyone noticed.

Later, the green room is quiet. Most of the dancers have drifted out, some heading to the hotel, others grabbing food or showering off the performance high. You stay behind to grab a hoodie from the top shelf of the wardrobe racks, reaching up on your toes.

The door creaks open behind you.

“Hey—” Hoseok’s voice cuts off. “Wait.”

You pause mid-reach, glancing over your shoulder.

He’s standing just inside the doorway, brow furrowed, eyes locked on your waist.

You look down.

Your shirt has ridden up just enough to show the angry red scratches along your skin, faint but clearly there. His expression shifts instantly, quiet concern turning sharp.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer.

You tug your shirt down quickly. “It’s nothing. Costume just rubbed me the wrong way.”

He gives you a look, one that says he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Can I see?” he asks gently, his voice low, eyes searching yours.

You hesitate, then nod once, slowly lifting the hem of your shirt just enough to show the marks along your side.

His breath catches. “Jesus,” he mutters, kneeling slightly to get a closer look. “These are from nails.”

You lower your shirt again, already bracing.

“I have to tell management,” he says, voice calm but firm.

“No.” You shake your head. “Hoseok, please. You can’t.”

His jaw clenches. “She drew blood. You don’t do that by accident.”

“I know,” you say quietly. “But if you report her, she’ll know it came from me. She already hates me enough.”

“I don’t care if she hates you. She crossed a line.”

You look down, fists tightening at your sides. “And if she gets reprimanded? Cut? Then every girl on this tour is going to think I’m trying to get people fired just because I’m close to you.”

“You’re not close to me,” he says without thinking, then winces. “I mean—not like that. I just mean, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Exactly,” you say. “So don’t make it worse.”

There’s a long pause. His gaze softens a little, but the tension’s still there, tight in his shoulders.

“I won’t go to management,” he says finally. “But only if you swear to tell me if she touches you again.”

You nod slowly. “Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

He exhales through his nose, clearly still not thrilled, but lets it go, for now. Then, a little softer, “You didn’t even flinch out there. No one would’ve known.”

You offer a small shrug. “Didn’t want to mess up the show.”

Something flashes behind his eyes—pride, maybe. Or something warmer. He doesn’t say it out loud, but you can feel it settle between you.

“Still,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “you shouldn’t have to bleed for a stage.”

Back at the hotel, it’s just past midnight. You and Yunjin are in your room, both freshly showered, your hair still damp as you sit cross-legged on your bed scrolling through messages. She’s across from you, stretched out on her stomach and picking at a protein bar with barely-contained boredom.

“God, we should order fries or something,” she mumbles into her arms. “I know it’s late, but I’m still wired.”

You laugh softly, about to answer then you stretch.

Your shirt lifts just enough to reveal a faint red line on your side.

Yunjin sits up like she’s been electrocuted.

“What the hell is that?” Her voice is sharp, alarmed. She scrambles over the bed toward you, pushing your arm up before you can react. “Wait—is that a scratch? That’s blood.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to pull your shirt down again. “Seriously.”

She isn’t having it. “Don’t lie to me. Who did that?”

You go quiet.

“Who.” Her voice drops into a dangerous whisper.

You sigh. “It happened during the performance. Mina. She dug her nails in during the line choreo.”

Yunjin is already off the bed.

“Absolutely not.” She’s halfway to the door, hair wild, grabbing her hoodie off the chair. “I’m going to drag her. I’ll knock on her door and rip her fake lashes off one by one—”

“Yunjin!” You scramble up, grabbing her wrist before she reaches the handle. “Please. Don’t.”

“Are you serious right now? She injured you in the middle of a live performance!”

“I know. But if you storm down there, it just gives her what she wants. More drama. More fuel.”

Her jaw clenches so hard you can see the muscle twitch. “She wants you humiliated. She’s been whispering garbage since Seoul and now she’s physically hurting you? And you’re the one worried about drama?”

You squeeze her wrist gently. “I’m tired. You’re tired. Just…let it go. For now.”

Yunjin glares at the door like she’s imagining it’s Mina’s face, but finally, finally, she exhales sharply and slumps back against the wall.

“I swear,” she mutters, “if she so much as breathes in your direction wrong again, I’m not stopping at lashes. I’m coming for her extensions too.”

You smile faintly, despite the sting in your side. “Noted.”

She walks back to you and flops down beside you again, grumbling under her breath, “Next tour, we’re getting roommate requests and I’m making sure we’re in a different hotel wing.”

You laugh. “You’d miss me.”

“Shut up and order the fries.”

You reach for your phone. The tension still lingers in the air, but it’s easier now, the weight of it softened by the person next to you who’s always ready to go to war, no matter how small the battlefield.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The fries are gone, Yunjin is out cold, and the hotel room feels too warm, too cramped with everything that happened still buzzing in your head. You need to get out of here. 

You slip on a hoodie, grab your keycard, and make your way up to the rooftop lounge. It’s quiet at this hour, just past 2 a.m., and the Mexico City skyline stretches around you, lights glittering in the distance like stars fallen to earth. You sit down on one of the loungers, tucking your knees up to your chest, letting the night air cool your skin and settle your thoughts.

You don’t expect anyone else to come up.

Which is why your heart jumps a little when the rooftop door creaks open.

Hoseok steps out, hoodie pulled low, hair damp like he just showered. He spots you immediately and pauses, his expression unreadable for a second before he walks over.

“I figured I’d find you up here,” he says softly.

You give a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” he nods, settling into the lounger beside yours. “Me neither.”

There’s a brief silence, comfortable, somehow. Then he turns his head to look at you, eyes catching faint light from the city below.

“How’s your side?”

You blink, still surprised that he seems to care. “It’s fine.”

“Can I see?”

You hesitate for half a second, then pull the hoodie up just enough to show the bandage, a thin sliver of red peeking out underneath.

His jaw tenses.

“She really did that during the choreo?” He asks again, like he can’t believe that it was true the first time you had this conversation. 

You nod. “It wasn’t that deep. Just enough to be petty.”

He exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “You didn’t even flinch on stage.”

“Can’t flinch when there’s seventeen thousand people watching.”

He shakes his head. “You’re tougher than most people I know.”

You snort, trying to brush it off. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” he says. “You don’t complain. You just keep working.”

You glance over at him, a little startled by the quiet sincerity in his voice.

“You notice that?”

He looks at you, the edges of his mouth quirking up. “I notice everything.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Smooth.”

“I’m not trying to be smooth,” he says, laughing now. “If I was, I’d say something like you danced so well tonight I almost missed my cue.”

You giggle despite yourself. “That’s terrible.”

“Right? I knew it,” he grins, then leans back against the lounger, staring at the sky. “You know, people ask me the same questions in interviews. Favorite food, dream collaborations, stuff like that. But no one ever asks the weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff like what?”

He hums, making his thinking face where he looks up. “Like the first time I ever forgot choreography on stage. Or the first time I realized I liked dancing more than rapping.”

“You forgot choreo?” you ask, eyes wide. 

He groans. “Yes! 2016 we were in Osaka. I completely blanked. I played it off, but I wanted to die. I still think about it sometimes when I’m in the shower.”

You laugh, and it feels easy, light in a way you haven’t felt since this tour started.

“You ever think about quitting?” you ask, quieter now. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Twice, but I didn’t. I stayed. And then…people like you came along. Reminded me why I loved this in the first place.”

You’re stunned into silence for a beat, and he just smiles, leaning back again like he didn’t just drop a weight into your chest.

The air shifts, warmer now. More charged.

You stay up there with him until the sky starts to tint pink at the edges, trading quiet stories and silly jokes and tiny truths you’re not sure either of you mean to share, but don’t regret. Not even a little.

You and Hoseok sneak in your naps earlier in the day, quick, quiet moments of rest that leave you both looser and lighter. You haven’t spoken since the night before, but when your eyes meet across the green room as everyone starts getting into costume, there’s something wordless exchanged. A kind of mutual grounding.

When it’s time to run the show, everything clicks into place. Mina’s been shifted out of your proximity in all the formations. She’s still there, but now her energy can’t touch you. You don’t have to brace yourself. You can just dance, and you do.

The crowd is louder than night one. They are wild, alive, feeding you energy from the second you step out. Every cheer feels like it’s vibrating in your bones. Your body moves like it’s never known hesitation, hitting every count with precision and power. Every hair toss, every hip hit, every spin. You’re on fire.

The numbers flow one into the next, and soon enough, you’re side-stage again, waiting for the duet. Everyone else clusters on the other side, but Hoseok finds you right where he did the night before. You’re both smiling this time.

“Better night?” he asks with a little raise of his brows, already knowing the answer.

“The best,” you say, and you mean it.

He steps in close, just like yesterday, but there’s no hesitation now, only warmth. His hands come to your face again, thumbs brushing the tops of your cheeks as he leans in until your foreheads touch.

“You were glowing out there,” he says, voice low and playful. “Like, full-on radiant. Crowd’s obsessed.”

You laugh, heart hammering in your chest. “Pretty sure they’re obsessed with you.”

“Nah,” he grins. “Tonight, they’re yours.”

It sends something giddy fluttering in your stomach. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. “Let’s go own this. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you too,” you say, and you’re both smiling like you’re about to get away with something.

The cue hits. The lights flare, and then you're dancing together.

This time, everything is free and full. Hoseok’s energy wraps around you, not protective, not careful, just completely in sync. Hoseok dances with the kind of presence that makes people forget to blink. He still avoids the spot where your cut is healing, but it doesn’t feel like he’s pulling back. It feels like he knows you. Like you’ve built something real in all those hours of rehearsal, tension, and trust.

When the duet ends, the crowd goes wild, and as you hold the final pose beside him, Hoseok glances your way with that same dazzling smile. Only now, there’s something a little different in his eyes. Pride. Mischief. Maybe even a spark of something more.

You feel unstoppable.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The post-show adrenaline lingers like glitter on skin. The performance high, the crowd’s roar, the perfect execution, it’s all still pulsing through your veins as you sit with the other dancers and crew at a lively restaurant tucked into a buzzing neighborhood just beyond the venue. The energy’s infectious. Laughter pours from every table, drinks clink, and someone orders another round before you can blink.

Hoseok shows up a little after the rest of you, wearing a baseball cap and a plain white tee, the kind of casual that still somehow makes heads turn. He slides into the seat beside Yunjin, across from you, and when your eyes meet over the rim of your glass, you can’t help the quiet smile that rises.

He toasts you later with a simple, “To killing it two nights in a row.”

Eventually, most of the dancers rally into a louder crowd, talking bar hopping, clubs, “just one more,” and “we’re in Mexico, come on!” But you, comfortably buzzed and warm from the tequila and laughter, decide to head back. Yunjin stays behind, swept into the tide, and you’re happy for her.

Back at the hotel, you take your time. A long, hot shower. Moisturizer. Your favorite oversized tee and soft shorts. Then you pad barefoot down the hallway with a hotel-bar cocktail in hand and head for the rooftop lounge.

The air is cool but gentle, and the view stretches out like a glittering painting. You settle on a lounger, legs tucked under you, drink cradled in both hands as you sip slowly and let yourself feel everything. The ache in your muscles. The thrum of triumph. How far you’ve come.

And then—

“Thought I might find you up here.”

You look over your shoulder. Hoseok steps out onto the rooftop, holding a drink of his own, something dark and neat in a short glass.

He’s changed, too. Into joggers and a hoodie, hair still a little damp from his own shower. He looks tired, but content. You wave him over.

He settles beside you on the same lounger, close but not crowded, and for a while, you just… talk. About nothing. About everything. About how wild this whole thing is: the tour, dancing, fans screaming your name.

And then a song starts playing through the rooftop speakers. Something upbeat and groovy, with a smooth, bouncing rhythm that makes your shoulders sway almost instinctively.

You glance at him.

“Dance with me.”

He chuckles. “Right now?”

You stand, offer your hand. “It’s tradition now, isn’t it?”

Hoseok hesitates for half a second before taking your hand and rising to his feet. “Alright, tradition.”

The two of you fall into rhythm easily, bare feet sliding over the rooftop tile. It’s loose, playful. No choreography, no mirrors. Just movement. Just you and him. You laugh when he tries a silly body roll and laugh even harder when he copies your spin with exaggerated flair.

One song blends into the next, and somewhere along the way, it shifts. You’re still laughing, still dancing, but the space between you shrinks. His hands linger longer. Your breath comes quicker.

Then he twirls you.

Your back presses gently to his chest, one arm wrapped around your waist. He turns you again, catches your hand in his, and dips you.

Time stops. You’re suspended in the moment, his arm strong around your back, your hand resting on his shoulder, and he looks at your lips.

Then, almost guiltily, his eyes flick away. Up, off to the side.

You look at his lips. Then back up at his eyes and you nod. Just once.

He kisses you.

One hand cradles the small of your back, holding you in place as the other comes to your jaw, tilting your chin up just right. The kiss is warm, slow, exploratory. His lips move like he’s learning the shape of you, like he’s been waiting for this longer than he realized. Your heart is slamming against your chest trying to understand what is going on. The kiss ends gently, like a breath, but the moment it does, Hoseok steps back like he’s just come to his senses.

“I—I shouldn’t have done that,” he blurts, voice hushed and panicked. His hand flies up, fingers brushing his mouth like the kiss might still be there. “God, I’m so sorry. That was…totally unprofessional. You’re my dancer. I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You blink, still half-drunk on the feeling of his lips against yours, your body still tingling from where he touched you.

“I mean—” he keeps going, running a hand through his hair. “You’re just… you’re so pretty. You’re funny, and smart, and you’ve been killing it every single night and then tonight you looked at me like that and I just—” He breaks off with a frustrated groan. “Shit. I let my feelings get ahead of me. I shouldn’t have—God, I’m sorry.”

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Your thoughts are moving like molasses. You’re trying to process what just happened, what he’s saying, how this spiraled so fast from soft rooftop magic to this flurry of regret.

“I just don’t want to make things weird for you,” Hoseok says, already backing away, voice rough with self-recrimination. “You’ve worked so hard to be here and this is your moment to prove yourself. I don’t want to mess it up because I can’t control myself—”

“Hoseok—”

But he keeps rambling, barely hearing you. “Seriously, just forget I did that, okay? I’ll keep everything professional from here on out. You don’t need to worry about me, I swear.”

And before you can even figure out how you feel or how to respond, he’s turning to leave.

“Hobi—” You yell desperately. “Wait!”

He freezes. You’ve never called him that before. His favorite nickname hangs between you delicate and real. He turns just slightly, looking over his shoulder, eyes wide and searching. Now it’s your turn to be breathless. 

You take a deep breath, gathering whatever courage you have left. The tension is thick, the air crackling between you both. You step closer, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying every ounce of confidence you’re trying to muster.

“If they’re going to whisper about me anyway,” you start, “might as well make it true.”

Before he can react, you reach out, catching his wrist in your hand, turning him back toward you. His eyes flash with a mix of surprise and something deeper, but before he can say anything more, you lean in, kissing him again.

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t pull away. He melts into it, his lips soft against yours, his breath steadying as he lets the moment wash over him. You can feel the tension leave his body, how he’s relaxing into you, like he’s been holding it all in for far too long.

You tug on the excess fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest pressing against his. You feel the heat between you, the softness of his body as he leans in further, his hands moving to your back, tracing the curve of your spine. The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, the world outside disappearing as the music plays softly in the background.

For a moment, there’s no tour, no pressure, no expectations. Just you and him, and everything feels right. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling in the air between you, Hoseok’s eyes are dark, lips parted as if he’s trying to catch his breath.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice quiet but filled with the same uncertainty he had before.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “If they’re gonna talk anyway…might as well give them something to really talk about.”

Hoseok chuckles, low and breathless, before pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it’s full of quiet promises, no words needed. The rest of the world can wait.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The morning after, sunlight creeps in through the curtains, warm and golden across your sheets, but it doesn't soften the twist in your chest. You wake up slower than usual, almost like you’re trying to delay facing reality. There's no knock at your door. No message. No sign that anything happened last night at all.

You see him in the hallway a little later, just outside the elevators. You weren’t expecting it, so your smile catches you off guard before you can stop it. He’s walking with a couple of stylists, laughing at something someone says. His eyes pass over you like you’re a stranger.

Not even a nod. It stings more than you'd like to admit.

Back in your room, Yunjin is packing up her things, humming softly to herself.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with us today?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder. “San Antonio’s got good food and my college friend’s letting a few of us crash at their place.”

You give her a half-hearted smile and shake your head. “I think I’ll stay behind a little. Be a tourist for a day. Last chance and all.”

“Your loss,” she teases lightly, dragging her suitcase toward the door. “Don’t forget sunscreen.”

She doesn’t press further. She doesn’t notice anything is wrong. No one does. You’re still smiling. Still functioning.

Just…quieter.

You spend the day wandering through the city, letting the sun soak into your skin and the colors of Mexico City blur into a kaleidoscope. You try mezcal at a street-side bar, buy a handmade bracelet from a vendor who compliments your earrings, and stand still in front of a cathedral until the bells chime and make your chest ache.

Hoseok stares at his phone like it might answer all the questions for him.

It doesn’t.

It just glows with the time. Too early for this kind of spiral, too late to sleep it off. He rubs a hand over his face and sighs, reaching for the only contact that might give him something useful.

He hits call. It rings three times before Jin answers, voice still thick with sleep.

“Hyung,” Hoseok says before Jin can even get a proper greeting out. “I messed up.”

Jin groans. “Hello to you too. What did you do?”

“I kissed her.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Who—wait. Her her? YN?”

“Yes.” It’s almost as if Hoseok can hear is hyung silenting judging him.

“Well damn,” Jin says, a little more awake now. “That’s…unexpected, and kind of bold. How’d it go?”

“She kissed me back. It wasn’t like—I don’t know. I didn’t plan it. It just happened and now I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“That checks out,” Jin mutters. “You’ve had a crush on her for a while, haven’t you?”

Hoseok winces. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to anyone with eyes.”

He groans again, collapsing back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t think I’d actually do anything about it.”

“And yet here we are.”

There’s a pause.

“I don’t even have her number,” Hoseok admits, his voice small. “I thought about asking someone on staff, but that feels…I don’t know. Weird?”

Jin snorts. “Yeah, kind of creepy. Don't do that.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you get her number last night?”

“I was distracted. I didn’t think—there was this moment, and it felt like everything in the world narrowed to just her, and then it was over.”

“Well,” Jin says, “it’s not over if you don’t let it be.”

“I saw her in the hallway this morning. She smiled at me. I didn’t smile back.”

Jin groans. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I panicked!” Hoseok snaps. “I don’t know what she’s thinking, and I don’t want her to regret it. I’m her boss. I should’ve never—”

“You already did,” Jin cuts in, firm now. “So the whole ‘I shouldn’t have’ ship? It’s sailed, capsized, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”

“Thanks for the imagery.”

Jin huffs a laugh. “Look, I get that this is complicated. But you’re allowed to feel things, Hobi. You’re allowed to want something good. If you’re serious about her—really serious—then don’t let protocol be the reason you ruin it.”

Hoseok is quiet for a long time. He watches a crack of sunlight stretch across the floor of his hotel room and thinks about how your smile looked under stage lights. He thinks about how he made you feel like you weren’t alone in it.

“…I am serious,” he says quietly.

“Then find a way to show her.”

🧡part 2🧡

[hoperecs]

Title: Suck It Part 1

Pairing: Reader/Jung Hoseok

Summary: What starts as lingering glances and offhand touches turns into something neither of you can ignore. You're not supposed to fall for someone on tour, especially not him. But between stolen moments and rising tension, it's only a matter of time before everything changes.

Word Count: 13.1k

Part 2

read on ao3

The room stills as Hoseok walks in, his confident aura palpable. His easy smile and effortless cool seem to draw the air toward him, like gravity bending to his presence. It’s always fascinating to see the way he commands a room without saying a single word. Your breath catches, despite having rehearsed with him and the rest of the dancers for weeks now. That spark of awe hasn’t dimmed. If anything, it's grown, fueled by the moments he’s given you. The encouraging nods,  and the praise he doesn’t usually offer lightly.

Hoseok’s gaze sweeps over the group, and when it lands on you, his grin widens just slightly. “Alright, team. Let’s go hard today. I want the energy up, no holding back,” he says, his voice warm but firm. 

The room bursts into motion, everyone eager to match the energy Hoseok expects. The rehearsal is grueling but electric, every step and every movement carrying weight and purpose. You throw yourself into the choreography, pushing your limits, aware of Hoseok’s eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. The senior dancers seem to notice too, their expressions tight, their movements sharper than usual as if they’re trying to outshine you. Good luck. 

The tension lingers in the air, but you keep your focus. You’ve worked too hard to let their jealousy rattle you now. Every move, every count, is an opportunity to prove yourself, and to everyone else, why you belong here.

By the time Hoseok claps his hands, signaling the end of the rehearsal, your muscles ache, and sweat clings to your skin. “Good work today, everyone,” he says, his voice carrying genuine approval for once. “Let’s keep building on this energy. Get some rest and stay hydrated. We are just a few weeks out now.”

The team disperses, some dancers chatting in low voices while others grab their bags and file out. You linger to stretch, avoiding the sideways glances from the senior dancers as they leave in a cluster. Their whispers trail behind them, but you block it out, focusing instead on your breathing as you pack your things. 

Feeling the need to clear your head, you wander into an empty practice room down the hall. The space is quiet, the mirrors reflecting the stillness. You drop your bag by the wall and start running through a few sections of the choreography on your own. The rhythm grounds you, each movement a reminder of why you’re here. 

“Still working?”

The familiar voice makes you freeze mid-step. You turn to see Hoseok leaning in the doorway, his expression soft but unreadable. He steps inside, letting the door close behind him. 

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here,” you admit, your voice a little shy. 

“I could say the same to you,” he replies with a faint smile. “You already gave everything in rehearsal. What’s keeping you here?”

You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lips. “I guess…I just needed a minute to breathe. To clear my head.”

Hoseok crosses the room, his movements unhurried. “I noticed the way some of them were acting today,” he says, cutting straight to the heart of it. “I wanted to check in with you after rehearsal, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone.”

Your chest tightens, embarrassment and frustration swirling together. The things you overheard earlier reply in your mind, stinging like fresh wounds. You’d walked into the changing room mid-whisper, and though they stopped when they saw you, the smirks and knowing looks said it all. The other dancers' whispers were sharp, accusing you of things so far from the truth they almost felt laughable—if it didn’t hurt so much. They assume you’ve slept with someone, blackmailed staff, or even bribed Hoseok to get the opportunities you’ve earned. None of it is true. You pour everything into this, long nights perfecting choreography, pushing through exhaustion, and showing up with relentless determination. All you want is to be accepted and appreciated. But it doesn’t matter to them. They refuse to see your effort, dismissing it all as underserved favoritism. Now standing in front of Hoseok, the weight of those baseless accusations feels heavier, but the steady warmth in his gaze offers a sliver of relief. Without needing to hear the details, he seems to know exactly what’s on your mind, and the sincerity in his presence alone reminds you why you’ve fought so hard to be here. 

“I’m fine. Really,” you say quickly.

Hoseok’s eyes search yours for a moment, as if trying to gauge how much of that “fine” is genuine. His expression softens, and he steps closer, his tone careful but firm. “You don’t have to say that. I know what it’s like being in the spotlight, having people assume the worst just because they don’t know your story or don’t want to see your talent for what it is. It’s not fair, and it’s not right.”

Your throat tightens, the effort to hold back the emotions you’ve been bottling up threatening to break. You nod, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’ve worked so hard, Hoseok,” you admit quietly, your voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. “Every single thing I’ve gotten, I earned. But no matter how hard I push myself, they don’t see that. They don’t want to see it.”

He exhales softly, a look of understanding crossing his face. “They’re threatened,” he says simply. “By your talent, your energy, and the way you carry yourself. That’s not on you, that’s on them.” His voice drops slightly, more serious now. “But I need you to promise me something: don’t let their insecurities dim your light. You’re here because you deserve to be here. Nothing anyone says can take that away.”

You blink, his words settling over you like a warm blanket. For a moment, the weight on your chest eases, and you feel seen. Not just as a dancer, but as someone who’s been fighting for their place. “Thank you,” you whisper, the sincerity in your tone matching his.

Hoseok smiles gently, his hand twitching like he’s considering reaching out but stops himself. “Don’t thank me for telling the truth,” he says with a wink, his tone lightening. “But if you need to talk, about this, about anything. I’m here. You don’t have to shoulder this alone.”

The warmth in his words stays with you as he steps back, giving you space. He gestures to the empty room with a small grin. “Now, let’s see what you’ve been working on. Show me that fire they’re so jealous of.”

The silence in the practice room becomes a melody of its own as you reset to the opening pose, your heart thundering as you meet Hoseok’s gaze in the mirror. You take a steadying breath and let the music in your head guide you. With each movement, you channel everything—the doubts, the whispers, the quiet anger, and the determination that keeps you moving forward. You’ve rehearsed this choreography countless times, but tonight, it feels different. Hoseok’s presence sharpens your focus, pushing you to dance not just for yourself but for the truth of your abilities.

As you finish, your chest heaving from the exertion, you finally look at him. His arms are crossed, his expression unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes tells you everything. He takes a step forward, clapping once, slow and deliberate. “That,” he says, his voice low but filled with certainty, “is exactly why you’re here. No one can take that away from you.”

You don’t trust yourself to respond, simply nodding as you gather your things. Hoseok doesn’t say anything more, giving you a parting glance that lingers just long enough to leave you wondering.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next rehearsal is nothing short of brutal. The room pulses with intensity as bodies move in perfect synchrony, sweat painting the floor beneath them. Each beat of the music is met with sharp, deliberate motion as the group drills the choreography again and again, the echo of sneakers and stomps filling the mirrored space. You’re dancing like muscle memory has taken over, fluid, focused, determined, barely noticing the burning in your limbs anymore. 

After a full run-through, the choreographer finally calls for a break. Everyone collapses to the floor or grabs their water bottles, panting and grateful. You grab a towel to dab the sweat from your neck, catching your breath when the lead choreographer suddenly steps forwards again. 

“Alright, listen up,” he says, his voice slicing through the hum of low conversation. “J-Hope choreographed a new section that will feature three pairs. He’ll be choosing who gets the spotlight tomorrow. Until then, you’ll be working with assigned partners to learn the duet. Learn quickly and show me you want this.”

You sit up straighter as he begins pairing dancers. There’s a flicker of anxiety in your chest, this section is important. It’s not just about technique anymore. It’s about chemistry, presence, making people feel something. 

Your name is called alongside Heeseung’s, and relief washes over you. He’s one of the few who doesn’t treat you like an outsider. Maybe it’s because he’s newer to the team too, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t get involved in the drama. Either way, you’ll take it. 

The music shifts to something lower, grittier, slower. You both watch as the assistant choreographer demonstrates the duet. It’s bold, sensual, and more intimate than anything you’ve done with this group before. Hands sliding over waists, synchronized steps that pull the dancers close before sending them apart again, dramatic pauses that demand eye contact. It’s not raunchy, it’s electric, and it’s meant to make the audience feel something. 

You glance at Heeseung as the demo ends. He just raises his brows with a quiet smirk and says, “Ready?” And just like that, you fall into step. 

Heeseung matches your energy beat for beat. His movement is clean, sharp, but when the music calls for it, he melts into the flow like honey. His facial expressions are deadly. Confident, teasing, completely in sync with the mood. Rehearsing with him doesn't feel like work; it’s fun, even a little thrilling. For the first time in days, you’re reminded why you love this. 

But not everyone is thriving. You notice Mina and her usual crew struggling to grasp the rhythm and comfort of the pairing. Some of the girls look visibly uncomfortable, hesitating at the close contact or fumbling through transitions. There’s a mean spirited satisfaction in watching the girls who usually whisper about you now floundering under pressure. Maybe it’s petty, but it feels like karma is right on time. 

“YN and Heeseung, come to the front.”

You both step forward, brushing past someone who audibly sighs and rolls their eyes behind you. The choreographer ignores it, gesturing for you two to demonstrate. 

“Watch them,” he says to the rest of the room. “This is what I’m looking for.”

The music kicks in and you lose yourself in it. You give every step your full attention, every beat your best expression, letting the tension and chemistry between you and Heeseung do the work. When the final pose hits and the music fades, the room is quiet before the choreographer claps once, satisfied, but only with you and Heeseung.

“Again,” he says simply. And so you do it again. And again. Until you stop counting.

By the time rehearsal ends, your shirt is sticking to your back and your thighs ache with the effort of hours spent pushing yourself to the limit. You’re grabbing your things when a familiar voice calls your name. 

“Hey!” Yunjin jogs up beside you, practically bouncing. “You killed that duet. Like, seriously—if Hoseok doesn’t pick you tomorrow he’s blind. That section is so good. I love it.”

You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

Yunjin narrows hers. “Okay. What’s up? You’re not freaking out about Mina again, are you?”

“I’m not freaking out,” you say quickly, but the look on her face tells you she doesn’t buy it. You sigh. “I just…we cannot mess up tomorrow. Hoseok is going to be extra critical. We have to be perfect.”

Yunjin giggles. “You sound like you’re about to audition for the Olympics or something.”

“We kind of are. The duet is a big deal.”

A mocking voice chimes in from behind you. “As if he would pick you.”

You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. Mina.

She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, one hip cocked like she owns the hallway. Her perfectly arched eyebrow is raised, her lips curl into a smug little smirk. There’s no denying she’s talented, probably one of the best dancers in the crew, but her jealousy has always poisoned her shine. 

You turn to face her slowly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “You should focus on your own part before worrying about mine.”

Mina’s smile tightens, but she doesn’t reply right away. Her gaze flicks to Yunjin and then back to you, eyes narrowed. “We’ll see who he picks tomorrow.”

She walks off without another word, her ponytail swinging like a warning behind her. 

Yunjin scoffs beside you. “She’s just mad you were asked to demonstrate. Again.”

“Still,” you murmur, staring down the hallway. “Tomorrow is going to be a war.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next day, the rehearsal room buzzes with nervous energy before anyone even steps onto the floor. There’s an edge to every voice, a sense that something important is about to happen. You can feel it in your bones. Today matters.

You’re already stretching in the corner when thet door swings open and Hoseok walks in, sunglasses perched on his nose, a cap pulled low, and that unmistakable aura trailing behind him like static electricity. The room seems to exhale all at once, tension morphing into something else. Anticipation, maybe. Respect. He’s calm but focused, nodding a silent greeting to the choreographer and a few dancers he passes on the way in. Then his eyes sweep the room. 

When they land on you, he gives a small smile, barely there, but enough to make your stomach flip for a second before you snap your attention back to your warm up. He’s always been kind, professional, but tough. Hoseok doesn’t hand out praise easily. You have to earn it.

“Alright team,” he says, clapping once, his voice sharper than the last time you heard it. “I’ve seen the footage from yesterday. Some of it was promising. Some of it…needs work.”

A few dancers shift uncomfortably. Mina stiffens beside you.

“We’re going to run all the pair choreo. I want to see full energy, no holding back. Expressions. Intensity. Chemistry. Everything.” He pauses. “At the end of rehearsal, I’ll be choosing three pairs to feature.”

There’s a murmur through the group, some excited, some anxious. Hoseok doesn’t reveal the last part of the plan, but the stakes are already high. The chance to be in a featured pair for a section he choreographed? That’s already enough to make people push past their limits. 

You and Heeseung watch from the sidelines as the first duets go up. Some are good, technically clean, and well rehearsed. Others lack a spark. Mina’s routine is sharp, but her partner feels like an afterthought. You can almost see her trying too hard to win instead of just dance. 

Finally, your names are called.

You move into position with Heeseung, exchanging one quick glance before the music hits.

And then, it’s all instinct. 

You both dive into the choreo like you’ve done this hundreds of times, like you were made to move together. There’s tension, heat, and a boldness to every step. Your hands slide into places like muscle memory, your eyes lock when they need to, and your movements match so seamlessly it barely feels like performance, it feels like connection. 

When the final beat hits and you hold the last pose, the silence in the room feels different. 

Then Hoseok claps. Just once. Crisp and deliberate. 

“That,” Hoseok says, a smile creeping onto his face. “That’s the energy I want.”

You pull back slightly, catching your breath as the music fades. Heeseung subtly bumps your shoulder with his, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. 

“Take five,” Hoseok says. “Then we’ll run it one last time with the final picks.”

You step off to the side, heart still pounding, when Yunjin beelines for you with wide eyes. 

“He clapped,” she hisses, gripping your arm like she might explode. “You know what that means.”

You shrug like it’s no big deal, but you’re still buzzing. Hoseok never claps for the group unless something really hits. The look in his eyes when you're finished…there was something extra there. Something calculating. 

Across the room, Mina stares daggers through your reflection, arms crossed so tightly it looks painful. You ignore her.

When the break ends, everyone regathers, tension thick in the air.

Hoseok stands at the front again. “I’ve made my decisions,” he says. “These three pairs will be featured in the sections.”

He starts calling names—Heeseung and your name first.

Your stomach flips. You don’t look at Mina, but you can practically feel the steam coming off her. 

Hoseok finishes naming the other two pairs, then adds, “One more thing.”

The room stills.

“There’s another slot. Not a pair.” He pauses just long enough for everyone to start glancing around. “One dancer does the duet with me.”

You blink.

A duet with Hoseok? A sharp, electric silence stretches through the room as he scans the group again, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll decide after one final run through,” he says, stepping back. “So if you’re holding back…now’s your last chance.” 

The final run-through feels heavier, like everyone is pushing beyond their limits. The chosen pairs are locked in, but that solo duet spot is still up for grabs.

You give the routine everything. Every movement, every look, every shift of weight is intentional. You know Hoseok is watching—really watching—and there’s no room for mistakes. Heeseung matches your energy, and for a second, you forget about the stakes, about the competition. It’s just you and the music, your body moving like it belongs in this moment.

When the last beat lands, you hold your final pose, breathless, feeling the weight of Hoseok’s stare.

Then, after a long pause, he exhales and nods.

“Alright.” His voice is calm, but the decision is final. “The featured three pairs are set. And for the solo…”

The tension is thick. You swear you hear someone’s breath hitch.

“…YN.”

Your heart slams against your ribs.

There’s a ripple of reaction around you, some hushed murmurs, a sharp intake of breath. Mina stiffens, her arms crossing, jaw tight.

Hoseok continues, his voice steady. “It’s a shame to separate such a strong pair, but YN is the best pick for this.” His eyes flicker to Heeseung for a brief moment before returning to you. “You have the control, the expression, and the versatility this role needs.”

You barely register Yunjin’s hand squeezing yours in excitement before Hoseok speaks again.

“Heeseung, you’ll be with Yunjin.”

Yunjin lets out a tiny squeak, trying, and failing, to keep her composure. Heeseung just grins, giving her an encouraging nod.

That’s it. That’s the final lineup.

You and Hoseok in the front. Three pairs behind.

Mina…nowhere.

The realization sinks in across the room, and you don’t miss the way her hands clench into fists at her sides, but she says nothing. Doesn’t make a scene. Just lifts her chin slightly, as if daring anyone to pity her.

Hoseok claps his hands together. “That’s it. Rehearsal’s over. Get some rest and we run full-out tomorrow.”

You exhale, the adrenaline still pulsing through you.

As the dancers begin filtering out, Yunjin throws an arm around your shoulder, practically bouncing. “Are you kidding me? With Hoseok? Front and center? You’re about to be iconic.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe it.”

She grins. “Believe it. And be ready because if he’s dancing with you, he’s expecting perfection.”

You already know that. And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.

It feels like a challenge you’re ready to take.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The room empties out slowly, dancers murmuring their goodbyes as they head for the exit. You start to follow Yunjin, but before you can take another step, Hoseok’s voice calls out behind you.

“YN, stay for a minute.” Just beyond the doorway you see Yunjin pause. Hoseok notices and addresses her. “Yunjin, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

You pause, turning back to face him. He stands in the center of the room, rolling his shoulders out, an easy confidence in his stance. Your heart kicks up slightly. You take a slow breath, stepping back onto the dance floor as the last of the others disappear down the hallway. The door swings shut, leaving just the two of you in the massive rehearsal space.

Hoseok tilts his head, studying you for a beat before speaking. “I wanted to run through a few things. It’s important that we’re comfortable with each other before we start full rehearsals with this.”

You nod, shifting your weight slightly. It makes sense. Dance, especially a duet, is about trust.

“I know you can handle yourself,” Hoseok continues. “You’re an amazing dancer. But I also know it can be intimidating dancing with someone like me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he raises an eyebrow, and you know he’s right.

It’s not that you doubt your skill. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t good enough. But Hoseok is Hoseok. Years of experience, endless stage presence, and an almost supernatural ability to make every move feel effortless. It’s impossible not to feel the weight of that.

Still, you refuse to let nerves show. “I’ll be fine,” you say.

He grins. “Good. Then let’s start.”

You move into position. The choreography isn’t foreign anymore, but the difference is immediate—this isn’t Heeseung. He is a few inches shorter than your previous partner and Hoseok moves with a fluidity and confidence that makes every step feel like second nature to him.

But when it comes time to place your hands on him, you hesitate. It’s just for a fraction of a second, but he notices.

Hoseok chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Pretend I’m Heeseung.”

You blink.

“It’s the same thing,” he says easily. “Same hands, same pressure. No difference.”

No difference. Right. You swallow, nodding, and this time, when your hands find their place, you commit to it.

Hoseok hums approvingly. “Better. But—” He shifts, taking your wrists in his hands, adjusting them slightly. His grip is warm, firm but not forceful. “More weight here. Less here. Feel the difference?”

You do. He guides you through it, step by step, his touch light but precise. The smallest corrections, pressure, angles, breath control and as you move, something shifts.

The hesitation melts away, replaced by something new. Tension. Not the bad kind. The kind that makes every movement electric, every glance charged. Hoseok notices it too, but he doesn’t acknowledge it outright. He just meets your eyes for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away.

“Good,” he says simply. “That’s enough for now.”

You exhale, feeling something unravel inside you.

For a while, neither of you says anything. You both just sit on the floor, catching your breath. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable.

Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you say, “I danced from when I was three until I was fifteen. I don’t know how they got the idea I just started a few years ago. Dance was my whole life for most of my life.”

Hoseok turns his head slightly, listening.

“I had to stop because I tore my ACL.” You glance down at your knee, absently tracing a pattern on your leggings. “I recovered pretty fast, but when I tried to come back, my peers had already gotten too far ahead. I felt like I couldn’t compete anymore.”

You don’t look at him, but you can feel him watching you. 

“So I quit.” You let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I didn’t dance at all for years. Until about three years ago.”

Hoseok leans back on his hands. “What changed?”

Your lips curve slightly. “I saw a BTS dance practice.” His eyebrows lift in surprise. “I don’t even remember which one it was,” you admit, shaking your head. “But something about the way you guys moved made me want to move again. I started learning choreography for fun and before I knew it…I was back.”

A beat of silence passes before he speaks again.

“That’s crazy,” he murmurs. Then softer, “In a good way.”

You finally glance at him, and there’s something unreadable in his expression. A flicker of something behind his eyes, like he’s processing more than he’s saying. And then he smiles, slow and knowing. 

“Well,” he says, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand. “Guess that means this dance is a full-circle moment, huh?”

Your chest tightens just a little. You take his hand.

And as he pulls you up, you think—yeah. Maybe it is. Your hand is still warm from his as you gather your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You expect him to head out first, maybe give a casual “see you tomorrow,” but instead, Hoseok lingers near the door, waiting for you. 

“You ready?” he asks.

You blink. “Uh…yeah.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

You give him a sideways glance. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I said I would,” he cuts in, gentle but firm. “Told Yunjin I’d get you home safe.”

You’re not sure if he’s doing it out of politeness or something else, but you nod anyway. “Okay.”

The night air is cool when you step outside the building, still warm from rehearsal. Hoseok walks beside you, his hood pulled up again, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He doesn’t say much at first, and neither do you. It’s a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that settles in when something meaningful just happened.

You expect him to point you toward the train or call a staff car to take you home.

Instead, he falls into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You don’t have to walk me,” you say gently, glancing over.

He shrugs. “I know.”

You pause. “Then why are you?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer right away. He keeps his gaze forward, but you catch the faintest lift of his lips. “I said I’d make sure you got home safe, didn’t I?”

You smile softly, heart fluttering. “You didn’t have to actually do that. People are gonna talk.”

“They already do,” he says, voice light, teasing. “Might as well make it worth it.”

You laugh, and he grins at the sound.

As you walk, the sharp edges of the professional Hoseok, the perfectionist, the dance leader, the choreographer, start to fade away. Instead, something else emerges. Softer. Warmer. This is the version of him you’ve only seen in clips. The one who makes dumb jokes on Run BTS, laughs with his whole chest, and gets way too into silly games.

“You know,” he says, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, “you looked like you were gonna pass out the first time I corrected your placement.”

“I was not,” you protest, bumping your shoulder lightly into his. “Okay, maybe a little. You’re kind of a big deal.”

He laughs. “Nah. I’m just a guy who never stops dancing. Kind of annoying, actually.”

You shake your head. “You’re really not.”

There’s a pause, and when you glance over, he’s watching you with that same unreadable look from the studio. It’s not intense or overwhelming, it’s just steady. Thoughtful.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he tells you. “You’re a good dancer and you feel the music. That’s rare.”

Your cheeks warm. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I said you inspired me.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” he replies. “You’ve got something.”

You walk a few more paces in silence before his voice comes again, this time quieter. “And hey…I meant the other thing, too.”

You glance at him.

“If something’s ever messing with your head, whatever it is, you can tell me.” He doesn’t look at you when he says it. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

The memory of that conversation in the empty studio flashes through your mind, the way his voice had softened when he told you he knew what it was like, the way he saw straight through you without prying. You swallow the sudden lump in your throat.

“I’ll remember that,” you say quietly.

He nods like that’s enough. You reach your building quicker than you thought. When you stop in front of the gate, you half expect him to wave you off and leave. Instead, Hoseok lingers.

“This is me,” you say, turning to him.

He nods, taking a step back but not quite leaving. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be brutal.”

You smile. “Looking forward to it.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, then gives a small salute and turns to go. You don’t move until he disappears around the corner.

Inside, the lights are on. Yunjin is waiting, perched on the edge of the couch, a snack bag in her lap and a look of pure, concentrated mischief on her face.

You don’t even get your shoes off before she pounces.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

You blink, taking a step away from her. “I—”

She stands. “Nope. Don’t even try to play it cool. You stayed late with J-Hope. You walked home with J-Hope. And you’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” you mumble, which only makes her laugh harder.

“You so are,” she says, grabbing your arm and dragging you toward the couch. “Spill. Every little detail. Right now.”

And you do. Eventually.

But as you tell her the story, there’s one part you leave out. A moment too small to explain, but impossible to forget:

The way Hoseok looked at you when he said, “You can tell me anything.”

Like he meant it.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The studio is quiet now. Most of the dancers have filtered out, the buzz of today’s rehearsal replaced with the faint hum of a speaker left on low volume. You’re sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of you, rolling out your calves with a foam roller. The mirror reflects the tired set of your shoulders, your hair sticking to your neck, and the slightly dazed look in your eyes.

You’re not sure when Hoseok came back in, but you hear the door click shut and the soft shuffle of his steps before he drops onto the floor beside you.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just sits close enough that your arms could brush if you leaned a little to the side. Then he speaks and it’s quiet, but direct.

“You good?”

You glance at him, blinking like you hadn’t expected him to actually sit down.

“Yeah,” you say quickly. Too quickly. “Just tired.”

Hoseok doesn’t look convinced. His expression is steady, unreadable like it always is when he’s being careful with his words.

“You danced like you were somewhere else today,” he says, not unkindly. “Still sharp, but…distracted. Off. It wasn’t physical, it was in your head.”

You press your lips together, pretending to focus on the roller beneath your thigh. “It’s nothing serious. Just some…catty stuff.”

He tilts his head. “Catty like ‘someone wore the same shoes as me,’ or catty like ‘people are being assholes behind your back’?”

You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

Hoseok shifts his weight, leaning forward a little. His voice softens, but there’s an edge of seriousness under it. “It clearly does matter. If something’s going on that’s affecting how you feel here, I need to know.”

You glance at him. His brows are drawn in concern, not in a nosy way, but in that quiet, careful way of someone who’s watching more closely than he lets on.

You try to smile, but it feels tight. “It’s just some girls being salty. Nothing new.”

“Was it Mina?”

You pause. That alone tells him everything.

He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What did they say?”

You shake your head, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long sip to stall.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, gentler now. “I’m not asking because I want drama. I just don’t like the idea of you being put in a bad spot because of me.”

You blink. “You?”

He meets your gaze, expression open. “I’ve been around long enough to know what people say when they think attention isn’t fair. Especially when it comes from someone like me. I shouldn’t have pulled you aside yesterday without making it clear to the group why. It gave them room to assume things.”

Your chest tightens. “It’s not your fault.”

“But they’re whispering about you, aren’t they?”

You look down. “Yeah,” you admit softly. “They said I must’ve begged for the rehearsal. Or offered something in return. That I don’t deserve the spot.”

There’s a heavy silence. Hoseok doesn't respond right away.

When you glance up, his jaw is tight, eyes unreadable.

“I can talk to them,” he offers.

You shake your head instantly. “No. Please don’t. That would just make it worse. If they think I ran to you, they’ll hate me even more.”

He doesn’t argue, but you can feel the tension in him.

“You shouldn't have to deal with this,” he says finally, quieter than before. “None of this is your fault. You work hard. You earned your spot. And anyone who can’t see that, who chooses not to see it, doesn’t deserve to be taken seriously.”

You nod, barely. He watches you for a moment longer, then shifts slightly, bumping your knee with his.

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

You look over at him.

“I mean it,” he says. “Even if we’re not close or whatever yet. If stuff like this keeps happening, please don’t carry it alone.”

You nod again, this time more sincerely.

“Thanks,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He gives you a small smile, then gets to his feet and holds out a hand.

“C’mon. Show me where you got stuck earlier. Let’s work through it before we call it.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, and before you can say anything, he’s already stepping back toward the center of the studio gesturing for you to follow.

“Let’s go from the beginning,” he says, sliding his foot across the floor into position. “Just our duet. No pressure…feel it out.”

You nod and move into place, facing him, your heart still a little tight from the conversation, but lighter than before. The music kicks in low from the speaker, just loud enough to hear the rhythm, and you both fall into motion.

You mirror each other for a few counts before stepping into the partnered section, his hands catching yours, the turn, the lift, the slow lean-in that has your breath catching for a reason that has nothing to do with the choreography.

His eyes flick up to meet yours for just a second, the barest glint of mischief in them.

“You sure you’re not mad at me?” he asks mid-spin, voice teasing as you land.

You blink, confused. “What?”

“Your grip is kind of intense,” he jokes, laughing softly.

You scoff and roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush all the same. “Maybe I am mad at you.”

“Damn. I knew it,” he says dramatically, tossing his head back in mock despair before resetting for the next movement. “Guess I’ll go cry in the corner. Alone. With my incredible sense of rhythm.”

You huff a laugh, the tightness in your chest easing just a bit more.

The next run-through goes smoother. Your timing aligns perfectly, and the tension that’s been coiled in your body all morning starts to melt away. Between counts, Hoseok slips into goofy-mode. He’s pulling exaggerated faces during transitions, pretending to wobble like a baby deer when you jump, and fake-swooning when you land a tricky turn.

“You trying to show me up?” he asks between breaths, hands on his hips. “I thought this was a partnership.”

You smirk. “Sounds like someone’s feeling threatened.”

He gasps. “Okay. Wow. I’m being disrespected in my own studio.”

You giggle, covering your mouth. “You started it.”

“Me?” He points to himself with wide eyes. “I’m innocent.”

“You’re literally never innocent.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Yeah, but I’m cute.”

You hesitate just long enough for him to notice, your brain scrambling to process whether that was flirting or just…Hoseok being Hoseok.

He grins like he knows exactly what he’s doing and spins toward the mirror, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair in exaggerated slow-motion. “Okay. Again from the top,” he declares dramatically. “This time with ten percent more flirtation and twenty percent more sass.”

You snort. “Is that the official note?”

“Yes. I’m very professional.”

He catches your eye in the mirror, and you smile without meaning to. He returns it, softer this time, a little more real.

“Seriously,” he says, tone dropping just a bit, “you good now?”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Hoseok just nods, like he expected nothing less, and lifts a hand toward the speaker. “Then let’s dance.”

And this time, when the music starts again, you really let yourself move.

The music flows around you, the rhythm pulling you back into your body as you and Hoseok move together again. Everything sharpens, the way your hands connect, the heat of exertion building under your skin, the way he smiles when you hit the counts just right.

You’re in the final eight, the part where your bodies come close—close enough that your breath catches and you almost forget you’re supposed to keep moving. Hoseok’s palm slides to the small of your back, guiding you through the turn. His voice is low but playful.

“See?” he says. “Told you we’d get it.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth lift. “You’re not always right, you know.”

“I am when it comes to this,” he grins. “And also when it comes to—”

The studio door creaks open with a soft click.

You both freeze.

He’s still close. His hand is still on your waist. Your breath still feels just a little too loud in your throat.

Sana stands in the doorway, blinking like she didn’t expect to see anyone. Her brows lift a fraction as she takes in the scene, your closeness, the music, the fact that you’re both very clearly in the middle of something.

“Oh,” she says, smiling a little too wide. “Didn’t realize there was still rehearsal going on.”

You step back immediately, your body going stiff as you reach for your water bottle, suddenly hyper-aware of how this must look.

Hoseok clears his throat, casual but a little clipped. “Private practice,” he says evenly. “We’re running duet sections.”

Sana’s eyes flick between you two. “Right. Of course.” Her tone is perfectly polite, but there’s something just beneath it. You know she’ll twist this. She doesn’t need evidence, just the image.

She lingers a second longer before turning toward the lockers. “Don’t mind me,” she calls over her shoulder. “Just grabbing my sweatshirt.”

You glance at Hoseok, but he’s already looking at you.

“Ignore her,” he says under his breath. “This is our time. Let her talk if she wants.”

But your chest has already tightened again.

You nod, trying to keep the knot in your stomach from growing. “Let’s just finish the run.”

He hesitates, eyes scanning your face, then gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Okay. From the top. Let’s kill it.”

The music starts again, but it’s harder now to ignore the whispers that you know are coming.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The studio is already humming with quiet chatter and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor when you walk in the next morning. Your duffel hangs heavy on your shoulder, but not as heavy as the pit in your stomach. The last rehearsal before tour. The final run of the full program. It should feel exciting.

Instead, the energy feels…off.

You’re barely a few steps inside when you catch it. Low whispers, the kind that stop just as quickly as they start. You glance toward the mirrors, where Sana and Mina are stretching with two other girls. One of them, Momo, smirks and leans in closer to Mina, who’s pretending to focus on her split stretch.

“Must’ve been a late night,” Mina says under her breath, not looking at you.

Sana hums thoughtfully. “Mm. Guess some people need the extra help.”

The girls snicker, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. Yunjin, walking just behind you, hears it too. She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, “I swear to god,” but you gently tug on her arm before she can say anything louder.

“Not worth it,” you murmur.

Yunjin shoots you a glare, protective and fiery. “They think they’re slick, but they’re just sad.”

You give her a small smile, but the edge of it wavers.

You take your usual spot on the floor to begin warming up, trying to stay focused, but the tension in the room is palpable. Everyone knows this is a big day. The full run-through. All eyes will be on Hoseok’s final decisions who shines, who doesn’t, and who might get more spotlight once the tour kicks off.

Your nerves were already frayed, but now the added scrutiny. The stares, the fake laughter, the whispered theories about why Hoseok chose you for the duet, it makes your stomach churn.

You stretch in silence, headphones in, trying to block them out. You know you earned your place. You know. But it doesn’t stop the noise.

Hoseok walks in fifteen minutes later, ball cap low over his brow and a coffee in hand. The room shifts instantly. Everyone straightens, energy tightening like a wire pulled taut.

His eyes flick across the studio as he greets everyone with a quick, “Morning,” before his gaze lands briefly on you.

It lingers for just a second.

You don’t smile. You don’t react.

You can’t. Not with every pair of eyes watching.

“Alright,” Hoseok claps his hands together. “Let’s run it top to bottom. No stops. Treat it like a real show. Find your focus and give me everything you’ve got.”

People start moving to their places, but the whispers haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve just gone quieter slinking under the surface like snakes in tall grass.

You swallow hard and exhale through your nose. One more rehearsal. Then the tour begins, and maybe hopefully you’ll finally be too busy proving yourself to hear them at all.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The first few shows in Seoul go off without a hitch. Every cue lands, every formation clicks, and the energy in the KSPO Dome is electric. Hoseok commands the stage like he was born on it, and somehow, being beside him under the lights feels more natural than nerve-wracking. You move in sync, you hit every mark, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers that echo in your chest long after you leave the stage.

But the online reaction? A different story. 

Korean fans aren’t exactly thrilled about the close choreography between you and Hoseok. Some accuse the creative team of pushing too hard for attention, as if this wasn’t his idea. Others aren’t shy about voicing their discomfort, dissecting every interaction between the two of you with brutal intensity.You don’t let it get to you, you’ve worked too hard to be shaken by faceless usernames and half baked speculation.

Brooklyn night one is just as electric. The crowd is louder, rowdier, and when you step off stage soaked in sweat, there’s a fire in your blood that you don’t want to put out.

Then comes night two and the day starts to unravel just a few hours before showtime.

You’re in the dressing room, tying your hair back, when the stage manager walks in looking like she’s carrying a live grenade. “Wardrobe issue. One of the interns hung your outfits in the wrong place and they are ruined,” she says, holding up her phone. “Customs seized the backup costumes when they came into the U.S. The shipment paperwork was flagged.”

You blink. “All of them?”

“Everything. Yours, the duets, even the encore outfits.”

Your stomach sinks. “So…what are we supposed to wear?”

She disappears behind a garment rack and pulls out a hanger. It holds a cropped jersey with the tour logo in silver glitter across the chest. On the back, it reads in huge block letters:

HOPE’S GIRL

You stare. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“They were from a scrapped number. We have a full box of them in the truck. They’re clean, they’re pressed, and they fit the aesthetic.”

You eye the jersey. It’s cute. Actually, it’s really cute. But it’s also really cropped, your stomach will be fully on display. And the name on the back? Way too bold.

“Isn’t this a little…” you gesture vaguely at the lettering. “Much?”

“Do you want to fly to Newark and sweet talk the customs agents yourself?” the manager asks, half-joking, half-panicked. “Because call time’s in thirty.”

You don’t have a choice. You change.

The jersey fits like it was made for you. Snug in all the right places, sleeves cuffed just above the elbow, hem hovering above your waist. You check yourself in the mirror, trying to ignore the lettering burning into your back.

When you step out, conversations stall. A few dancers glance over. One of the stylists lets out a low whistle. Then Hoseok turns, mid-discussion with a crew member, and his eyes land on you.

He freezes.

Then, slowly, he grins. Not the polite stage smile. The real one. The one that makes his eyes crinkle and your stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with the jersey. You glance down, suddenly hyper-aware of just how much skin you’re showing, and the text stretched across your shoulder blades.

Still, the moment passes. The music starts. The show goes on. But the mood sticks with you. A little unsettled, a little unsure. You look amazing. The crowd will scream. The performance will be flawless.

So why do you feel so weird inside?

The lights dim. The roar of the Barclays Center swells around you like a wave, and the opening VCR flickers to life on the screens above the stage. You’re already in place, heart hammering in your chest, fingers twitching at your sides as you wait for the music to drop.

The crowd is louder tonight, maybe it’s the weekend energy, maybe it’s just New York. Maybe it’s the jersey.

Your jersey.

The one that reads HOPE’S GIRL in massive silver letters across your back.

You try to shake it off. Focus. Breathe. You know the routine inside and out, muscle memory will take over. But as the spotlight hits and the opening beats explode through the arena, you can’t help the flare of heat that climbs your neck when you and Hoseok hit your first mark center stage.

He’s already smirking when he looks at you.

You swear it’s a little cockier than usual.

The crowd loses it when he reaches for you during the duet section. His hand grazes your waist, right where the cropped jersey ends, and you hear the collective shriek ripple through the venue like a current. You don't falter, not even for a beat, but your pulse skitters. You wonder if he notices. (He does.)

The chemistry tonight is different. Tighter. Sharper. Every move is crisp, charged, laced with something just below the surface. Hoseok doesn’t break character once, but there’s something extra in the way he watches you, like he’s feeding off the crowd’s energy, and you're the spark.

At one point, he leans in for a choreographed moment—faces close, breaths shared—and you swear you catch him whispering, “They’re gonna riot.”

You almost laugh. Almost.

Instead, you snap into the next move, heart pounding, mind focused, eyes locked.

When the last beat hits and the lights go black, the arena erupts. It’s deafening. Screams echo through your bones as the two of you jog offstage, breathless and slick with sweat. You’re grinning, high on adrenaline, already tugging your in-ear out when Hoseok turns to you in the wings.

“You crushed that,” he says, still breathless. “That jersey…” He whistles, grinning. “Might have started a war.”

You roll your eyes, breath hitching on a laugh. “Don’t even.”

But he just flashes that infuriating smile again. “Hope’s girl, huh?”

You shove his shoulder, but your cheeks burn, and even as the crew moves around you resetting for the next set, he lingers a second longer, eyes lingering like he’s memorizing you all over again.

The show ends in a blur of lights and music, the crowd's cheers still ringing in your ears as you make your way backstage. Your body aches from the intense performance, sweat dripping down your back as you strip off the jersey, feeling the cool air hit your skin. You’re breathing hard, but there’s a high buzzing through you, an energy that doesn’t quite fade yet.

Yunjin is there in an instant, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Okay, first of all,” she starts, eyes wide, “what was that?! You were literally on fire tonight. You looked so hot, I almost couldn’t concentrate! Like, how does that even happen?”

You laugh, wiping your face with a towel. “It was just the jersey, Yunjin.”

“Just the jersey?” She places a hand over her heart dramatically. “You’re telling me you don’t know what you were doing out there? The way it clung to you, the way you moved, if I were in the crowd, I’d be screaming my head off. Hoseok probably had to be holding himself back from jumping off stage just to catch you.”

You try not to grin, but the thought makes your chest tighten. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I am not. Babe, I don’t even know how you stayed so calm. I was practically hyperventilating on the sidelines watching you. You’re like…a goddess.”

Before you can reply, the sound of footsteps clicks through the hallway, and you know who it is before you even turn around.

Mina and Sana.

“Well, well,” Sana says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “look who’s enjoying the spotlight.”

Mina crosses her arms, eyes narrowing at the exposed skin of your stomach. “Must be nice. Wearing a jersey with ‘Hope’s Girl’ on it. Subtle.”

You don’t respond immediately, but you feel the tension creeping up your spine. Yunjin, however, isn’t having it.

“Really? That’s what you’re gonna focus on?” she shoots back, eyes flashing. “I think we all know the story behind the jersey, and it’s not like she went around asking for this attention.”

Sana smirks, a little too pleased with herself. “Sure, it’s just a scraped costume item. But only one of us got assigned that particular one, didn’t we?”

Mina’s gaze sharpens, her tone fake-sweet. “Yeah, just be careful. You might get too comfortable being everyone’s center of attention, those things don’t last long.”

Her words sting, but you keep your face neutral. You want to tell them to mind their business, but you hold back, not wanting to make a scene.

Yunjin steps closer, her voice low and cutting. “You guys are real classy, huh? Try not to be so obvious.”

Mina and Sana share a look before walking off, their footsteps echoing down the hall like a statement.

Yunjin exhales sharply, her fists clenched at her sides. “Seriously. Do they ever stop?”

You shrug, trying to shake it off. “Let them talk. They don’t get to decide what’s true.”

“Yeah, but damn, it’s hard not to hear them when they’re that loud,” Yunjin mutters, her eyes still on the retreating figures.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next few stops of the U.S. leg flow like muscle memory. Rehearsals, shows, after-show hangouts in hotel rooms or wherever you can find food that late. Everyone slips into their own rhythms. Little cliques form, some loud and chaotic, some quieter and tired. You and Yunjin are the latter, always rooming together, always ending the night whispering half-asleep jokes under hotel comforters, letting the adrenaline of performance burn off slowly.

Hoseok is kind to everyone, but there’s something a little softer in how he treats you. Even when he’s obviously exhausted with dark circles under his eyes and a  gravelly voice. He'll still toss you a grin in passing, a warm “good work today,” or a brief shoulder squeeze as he walks by. Nothing intense. Nothing you can’t explain away. But still, it lingers.

Mexico City feels different the moment the plane touches down.

The crowd is electric, louder than anything so far, and the setlist tonight gives the dancers a chance to shine, one particular number puts the girls front and center, a line of you holding onto each other’s hips, all sweat-slick skin and sharp movement, hip thrusts and rhythm pulsing through the floor.

You barely even register it when Mina’s fingers dig into your waist. Not at first.

But then she digs. Sharp nails through the thin fabric of your costume, pressing so hard it feels like they’re carving into you.

You flinch, barely, but your body keeps moving like it’s on autopilot. You smile, you hit every beat, you power through. There’s a camera somewhere. Fans screaming. You don’t miss a step. But when you hit the wings, adrenaline drops all at once, and the pain settles in.

You rush toward the wardrobe first thing, heart thudding in your chest. “Hey, do we—do we have any backup options?” you ask, trying to keep your voice level. “Like...something with more coverage?”

Thankfully, they do now. You swap out the crop top and slip into something looser. The scratches burn, but at least they’re not visible anymore.

You don’t think anyone noticed.

Later, the green room is quiet. Most of the dancers have drifted out, some heading to the hotel, others grabbing food or showering off the performance high. You stay behind to grab a hoodie from the top shelf of the wardrobe racks, reaching up on your toes.

The door creaks open behind you.

“Hey—” Hoseok’s voice cuts off. “Wait.”

You pause mid-reach, glancing over your shoulder.

He’s standing just inside the doorway, brow furrowed, eyes locked on your waist.

You look down.

Your shirt has ridden up just enough to show the angry red scratches along your skin, faint but clearly there. His expression shifts instantly, quiet concern turning sharp.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer.

You tug your shirt down quickly. “It’s nothing. Costume just rubbed me the wrong way.”

He gives you a look, one that says he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Can I see?” he asks gently, his voice low, eyes searching yours.

You hesitate, then nod once, slowly lifting the hem of your shirt just enough to show the marks along your side.

His breath catches. “Jesus,” he mutters, kneeling slightly to get a closer look. “These are from nails.”

You lower your shirt again, already bracing.

“I have to tell management,” he says, voice calm but firm.

“No.” You shake your head. “Hoseok, please. You can’t.”

His jaw clenches. “She drew blood. You don’t do that by accident.”

“I know,” you say quietly. “But if you report her, she’ll know it came from me. She already hates me enough.”

“I don’t care if she hates you. She crossed a line.”

You look down, fists tightening at your sides. “And if she gets reprimanded? Cut? Then every girl on this tour is going to think I’m trying to get people fired just because I’m close to you.”

“You’re not close to me,” he says without thinking, then winces. “I mean—not like that. I just mean, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Exactly,” you say. “So don’t make it worse.”

There’s a long pause. His gaze softens a little, but the tension’s still there, tight in his shoulders.

“I won’t go to management,” he says finally. “But only if you swear to tell me if she touches you again.”

You nod slowly. “Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

He exhales through his nose, clearly still not thrilled, but lets it go, for now. Then, a little softer, “You didn’t even flinch out there. No one would’ve known.”

You offer a small shrug. “Didn’t want to mess up the show.”

Something flashes behind his eyes—pride, maybe. Or something warmer. He doesn’t say it out loud, but you can feel it settle between you.

“Still,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “you shouldn’t have to bleed for a stage.”

Back at the hotel, it’s just past midnight. You and Yunjin are in your room, both freshly showered, your hair still damp as you sit cross-legged on your bed scrolling through messages. She’s across from you, stretched out on her stomach and picking at a protein bar with barely-contained boredom.

“God, we should order fries or something,” she mumbles into her arms. “I know it’s late, but I’m still wired.”

You laugh softly, about to answer then you stretch.

Your shirt lifts just enough to reveal a faint red line on your side.

Yunjin sits up like she’s been electrocuted.

“What the hell is that?” Her voice is sharp, alarmed. She scrambles over the bed toward you, pushing your arm up before you can react. “Wait—is that a scratch? That’s blood.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to pull your shirt down again. “Seriously.”

She isn’t having it. “Don’t lie to me. Who did that?”

You go quiet.

“Who.” Her voice drops into a dangerous whisper.

You sigh. “It happened during the performance. Mina. She dug her nails in during the line choreo.”

Yunjin is already off the bed.

“Absolutely not.” She’s halfway to the door, hair wild, grabbing her hoodie off the chair. “I’m going to drag her. I’ll knock on her door and rip her fake lashes off one by one—”

“Yunjin!” You scramble up, grabbing her wrist before she reaches the handle. “Please. Don’t.”

“Are you serious right now? She injured you in the middle of a live performance!”

“I know. But if you storm down there, it just gives her what she wants. More drama. More fuel.”

Her jaw clenches so hard you can see the muscle twitch. “She wants you humiliated. She’s been whispering garbage since Seoul and now she’s physically hurting you? And you’re the one worried about drama?”

You squeeze her wrist gently. “I’m tired. You’re tired. Just…let it go. For now.”

Yunjin glares at the door like she’s imagining it’s Mina’s face, but finally, finally, she exhales sharply and slumps back against the wall.

“I swear,” she mutters, “if she so much as breathes in your direction wrong again, I’m not stopping at lashes. I’m coming for her extensions too.”

You smile faintly, despite the sting in your side. “Noted.”

She walks back to you and flops down beside you again, grumbling under her breath, “Next tour, we’re getting roommate requests and I’m making sure we’re in a different hotel wing.”

You laugh. “You’d miss me.”

“Shut up and order the fries.”

You reach for your phone. The tension still lingers in the air, but it’s easier now, the weight of it softened by the person next to you who’s always ready to go to war, no matter how small the battlefield.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The fries are gone, Yunjin is out cold, and the hotel room feels too warm, too cramped with everything that happened still buzzing in your head. You need to get out of here. 

You slip on a hoodie, grab your keycard, and make your way up to the rooftop lounge. It’s quiet at this hour, just past 2 a.m., and the Mexico City skyline stretches around you, lights glittering in the distance like stars fallen to earth. You sit down on one of the loungers, tucking your knees up to your chest, letting the night air cool your skin and settle your thoughts.

You don’t expect anyone else to come up.

Which is why your heart jumps a little when the rooftop door creaks open.

Hoseok steps out, hoodie pulled low, hair damp like he just showered. He spots you immediately and pauses, his expression unreadable for a second before he walks over.

“I figured I’d find you up here,” he says softly.

You give a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” he nods, settling into the lounger beside yours. “Me neither.”

There’s a brief silence, comfortable, somehow. Then he turns his head to look at you, eyes catching faint light from the city below.

“How’s your side?”

You blink, still surprised that he seems to care. “It’s fine.”

“Can I see?”

You hesitate for half a second, then pull the hoodie up just enough to show the bandage, a thin sliver of red peeking out underneath.

His jaw tenses.

“She really did that during the choreo?” He asks again, like he can’t believe that it was true the first time you had this conversation. 

You nod. “It wasn’t that deep. Just enough to be petty.”

He exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “You didn’t even flinch on stage.”

“Can’t flinch when there’s seventeen thousand people watching.”

He shakes his head. “You’re tougher than most people I know.”

You snort, trying to brush it off. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” he says. “You don’t complain. You just keep working.”

You glance over at him, a little startled by the quiet sincerity in his voice.

“You notice that?”

He looks at you, the edges of his mouth quirking up. “I notice everything.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Smooth.”

“I’m not trying to be smooth,” he says, laughing now. “If I was, I’d say something like you danced so well tonight I almost missed my cue.”

You giggle despite yourself. “That’s terrible.”

“Right? I knew it,” he grins, then leans back against the lounger, staring at the sky. “You know, people ask me the same questions in interviews. Favorite food, dream collaborations, stuff like that. But no one ever asks the weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff like what?”

He hums, making his thinking face where he looks up. “Like the first time I ever forgot choreography on stage. Or the first time I realized I liked dancing more than rapping.”

“You forgot choreo?” you ask, eyes wide. 

He groans. “Yes! 2016 we were in Osaka. I completely blanked. I played it off, but I wanted to die. I still think about it sometimes when I’m in the shower.”

You laugh, and it feels easy, light in a way you haven’t felt since this tour started.

“You ever think about quitting?” you ask, quieter now. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Twice, but I didn’t. I stayed. And then…people like you came along. Reminded me why I loved this in the first place.”

You’re stunned into silence for a beat, and he just smiles, leaning back again like he didn’t just drop a weight into your chest.

The air shifts, warmer now. More charged.

You stay up there with him until the sky starts to tint pink at the edges, trading quiet stories and silly jokes and tiny truths you’re not sure either of you mean to share, but don’t regret. Not even a little.

You and Hoseok sneak in your naps earlier in the day, quick, quiet moments of rest that leave you both looser and lighter. You haven’t spoken since the night before, but when your eyes meet across the green room as everyone starts getting into costume, there’s something wordless exchanged. A kind of mutual grounding.

When it’s time to run the show, everything clicks into place. Mina’s been shifted out of your proximity in all the formations. She’s still there, but now her energy can’t touch you. You don’t have to brace yourself. You can just dance, and you do.

The crowd is louder than night one. They are wild, alive, feeding you energy from the second you step out. Every cheer feels like it’s vibrating in your bones. Your body moves like it’s never known hesitation, hitting every count with precision and power. Every hair toss, every hip hit, every spin. You’re on fire.

The numbers flow one into the next, and soon enough, you’re side-stage again, waiting for the duet. Everyone else clusters on the other side, but Hoseok finds you right where he did the night before. You’re both smiling this time.

“Better night?” he asks with a little raise of his brows, already knowing the answer.

“The best,” you say, and you mean it.

He steps in close, just like yesterday, but there’s no hesitation now, only warmth. His hands come to your face again, thumbs brushing the tops of your cheeks as he leans in until your foreheads touch.

“You were glowing out there,” he says, voice low and playful. “Like, full-on radiant. Crowd’s obsessed.”

You laugh, heart hammering in your chest. “Pretty sure they’re obsessed with you.”

“Nah,” he grins. “Tonight, they’re yours.”

It sends something giddy fluttering in your stomach. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. “Let’s go own this. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you too,” you say, and you’re both smiling like you’re about to get away with something.

The cue hits. The lights flare, and then you're dancing together.

This time, everything is free and full. Hoseok’s energy wraps around you, not protective, not careful, just completely in sync. Hoseok dances with the kind of presence that makes people forget to blink. He still avoids the spot where your cut is healing, but it doesn’t feel like he’s pulling back. It feels like he knows you. Like you’ve built something real in all those hours of rehearsal, tension, and trust.

When the duet ends, the crowd goes wild, and as you hold the final pose beside him, Hoseok glances your way with that same dazzling smile. Only now, there’s something a little different in his eyes. Pride. Mischief. Maybe even a spark of something more.

You feel unstoppable.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The post-show adrenaline lingers like glitter on skin. The performance high, the crowd’s roar, the perfect execution, it’s all still pulsing through your veins as you sit with the other dancers and crew at a lively restaurant tucked into a buzzing neighborhood just beyond the venue. The energy’s infectious. Laughter pours from every table, drinks clink, and someone orders another round before you can blink.

Hoseok shows up a little after the rest of you, wearing a baseball cap and a plain white tee, the kind of casual that still somehow makes heads turn. He slides into the seat beside Yunjin, across from you, and when your eyes meet over the rim of your glass, you can’t help the quiet smile that rises.

He toasts you later with a simple, “To killing it two nights in a row.”

Eventually, most of the dancers rally into a louder crowd, talking bar hopping, clubs, “just one more,” and “we’re in Mexico, come on!” But you, comfortably buzzed and warm from the tequila and laughter, decide to head back. Yunjin stays behind, swept into the tide, and you’re happy for her.

Back at the hotel, you take your time. A long, hot shower. Moisturizer. Your favorite oversized tee and soft shorts. Then you pad barefoot down the hallway with a hotel-bar cocktail in hand and head for the rooftop lounge.

The air is cool but gentle, and the view stretches out like a glittering painting. You settle on a lounger, legs tucked under you, drink cradled in both hands as you sip slowly and let yourself feel everything. The ache in your muscles. The thrum of triumph. How far you’ve come.

And then—

“Thought I might find you up here.”

You look over your shoulder. Hoseok steps out onto the rooftop, holding a drink of his own, something dark and neat in a short glass.

He’s changed, too. Into joggers and a hoodie, hair still a little damp from his own shower. He looks tired, but content. You wave him over.

He settles beside you on the same lounger, close but not crowded, and for a while, you just… talk. About nothing. About everything. About how wild this whole thing is: the tour, dancing, fans screaming your name.

And then a song starts playing through the rooftop speakers. Something upbeat and groovy, with a smooth, bouncing rhythm that makes your shoulders sway almost instinctively.

You glance at him.

“Dance with me.”

He chuckles. “Right now?”

You stand, offer your hand. “It’s tradition now, isn’t it?”

Hoseok hesitates for half a second before taking your hand and rising to his feet. “Alright, tradition.”

The two of you fall into rhythm easily, bare feet sliding over the rooftop tile. It’s loose, playful. No choreography, no mirrors. Just movement. Just you and him. You laugh when he tries a silly body roll and laugh even harder when he copies your spin with exaggerated flair.

One song blends into the next, and somewhere along the way, it shifts. You’re still laughing, still dancing, but the space between you shrinks. His hands linger longer. Your breath comes quicker.

Then he twirls you.

Your back presses gently to his chest, one arm wrapped around your waist. He turns you again, catches your hand in his, and dips you.

Time stops. You’re suspended in the moment, his arm strong around your back, your hand resting on his shoulder, and he looks at your lips.

Then, almost guiltily, his eyes flick away. Up, off to the side.

You look at his lips. Then back up at his eyes and you nod. Just once.

He kisses you.

One hand cradles the small of your back, holding you in place as the other comes to your jaw, tilting your chin up just right. The kiss is warm, slow, exploratory. His lips move like he’s learning the shape of you, like he’s been waiting for this longer than he realized. Your heart is slamming against your chest trying to understand what is going on. The kiss ends gently, like a breath, but the moment it does, Hoseok steps back like he’s just come to his senses.

“I—I shouldn’t have done that,” he blurts, voice hushed and panicked. His hand flies up, fingers brushing his mouth like the kiss might still be there. “God, I’m so sorry. That was…totally unprofessional. You’re my dancer. I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You blink, still half-drunk on the feeling of his lips against yours, your body still tingling from where he touched you.

“I mean—” he keeps going, running a hand through his hair. “You’re just… you’re so pretty. You’re funny, and smart, and you’ve been killing it every single night and then tonight you looked at me like that and I just—” He breaks off with a frustrated groan. “Shit. I let my feelings get ahead of me. I shouldn’t have—God, I’m sorry.”

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Your thoughts are moving like molasses. You’re trying to process what just happened, what he’s saying, how this spiraled so fast from soft rooftop magic to this flurry of regret.

“I just don’t want to make things weird for you,” Hoseok says, already backing away, voice rough with self-recrimination. “You’ve worked so hard to be here and this is your moment to prove yourself. I don’t want to mess it up because I can’t control myself—”

“Hoseok—”

But he keeps rambling, barely hearing you. “Seriously, just forget I did that, okay? I’ll keep everything professional from here on out. You don’t need to worry about me, I swear.”

And before you can even figure out how you feel or how to respond, he’s turning to leave.

“Hobi—” You yell desperately. “Wait!”

He freezes. You’ve never called him that before. His favorite nickname hangs between you delicate and real. He turns just slightly, looking over his shoulder, eyes wide and searching. Now it’s your turn to be breathless. 

You take a deep breath, gathering whatever courage you have left. The tension is thick, the air crackling between you both. You step closer, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying every ounce of confidence you’re trying to muster.

“If they’re going to whisper about me anyway,” you start, “might as well make it true.”

Before he can react, you reach out, catching his wrist in your hand, turning him back toward you. His eyes flash with a mix of surprise and something deeper, but before he can say anything more, you lean in, kissing him again.

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t pull away. He melts into it, his lips soft against yours, his breath steadying as he lets the moment wash over him. You can feel the tension leave his body, how he’s relaxing into you, like he’s been holding it all in for far too long.

You tug on the excess fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, your chest pressing against his. You feel the heat between you, the softness of his body as he leans in further, his hands moving to your back, tracing the curve of your spine. The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, the world outside disappearing as the music plays softly in the background.

For a moment, there’s no tour, no pressure, no expectations. Just you and him, and everything feels right. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling in the air between you, Hoseok’s eyes are dark, lips parted as if he’s trying to catch his breath.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice quiet but filled with the same uncertainty he had before.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “If they’re gonna talk anyway…might as well give them something to really talk about.”

Hoseok chuckles, low and breathless, before pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it’s full of quiet promises, no words needed. The rest of the world can wait.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The morning after, sunlight creeps in through the curtains, warm and golden across your sheets, but it doesn't soften the twist in your chest. You wake up slower than usual, almost like you’re trying to delay facing reality. There's no knock at your door. No message. No sign that anything happened last night at all.

You see him in the hallway a little later, just outside the elevators. You weren’t expecting it, so your smile catches you off guard before you can stop it. He’s walking with a couple of stylists, laughing at something someone says. His eyes pass over you like you’re a stranger.

Not even a nod. It stings more than you'd like to admit.

Back in your room, Yunjin is packing up her things, humming softly to herself.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with us today?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder. “San Antonio’s got good food and my college friend’s letting a few of us crash at their place.”

You give her a half-hearted smile and shake your head. “I think I’ll stay behind a little. Be a tourist for a day. Last chance and all.”

“Your loss,” she teases lightly, dragging her suitcase toward the door. “Don’t forget sunscreen.”

She doesn’t press further. She doesn’t notice anything is wrong. No one does. You’re still smiling. Still functioning.

Just…quieter.

You spend the day wandering through the city, letting the sun soak into your skin and the colors of Mexico City blur into a kaleidoscope. You try mezcal at a street-side bar, buy a handmade bracelet from a vendor who compliments your earrings, and stand still in front of a cathedral until the bells chime and make your chest ache.

Hoseok stares at his phone like it might answer all the questions for him.

It doesn’t.

It just glows with the time. Too early for this kind of spiral, too late to sleep it off. He rubs a hand over his face and sighs, reaching for the only contact that might give him something useful.

He hits call. It rings three times before Jin answers, voice still thick with sleep.

“Hyung,” Hoseok says before Jin can even get a proper greeting out. “I messed up.”

Jin groans. “Hello to you too. What did you do?”

“I kissed her.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Who—wait. Her her? YN?”

“Yes.” It’s almost as if Hoseok can hear is hyung silenting judging him.

“Well damn,” Jin says, a little more awake now. “That’s…unexpected, and kind of bold. How’d it go?”

“She kissed me back. It wasn’t like—I don’t know. I didn’t plan it. It just happened and now I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“That checks out,” Jin mutters. “You’ve had a crush on her for a while, haven’t you?”

Hoseok winces. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to anyone with eyes.”

He groans again, collapsing back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t think I’d actually do anything about it.”

“And yet here we are.”

There’s a pause.

“I don’t even have her number,” Hoseok admits, his voice small. “I thought about asking someone on staff, but that feels…I don’t know. Weird?”

Jin snorts. “Yeah, kind of creepy. Don't do that.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you get her number last night?”

“I was distracted. I didn’t think—there was this moment, and it felt like everything in the world narrowed to just her, and then it was over.”

“Well,” Jin says, “it’s not over if you don’t let it be.”

“I saw her in the hallway this morning. She smiled at me. I didn’t smile back.”

Jin groans. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I panicked!” Hoseok snaps. “I don’t know what she’s thinking, and I don’t want her to regret it. I’m her boss. I should’ve never—”

“You already did,” Jin cuts in, firm now. “So the whole ‘I shouldn’t have’ ship? It’s sailed, capsized, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”

“Thanks for the imagery.”

Jin huffs a laugh. “Look, I get that this is complicated. But you’re allowed to feel things, Hobi. You’re allowed to want something good. If you’re serious about her—really serious—then don’t let protocol be the reason you ruin it.”

Hoseok is quiet for a long time. He watches a crack of sunlight stretch across the floor of his hotel room and thinks about how your smile looked under stage lights. He thinks about how he made you feel like you weren’t alone in it.

“…I am serious,” he says quietly.

“Then find a way to show her.”

🧡part 2🧡

[hoperecs]

SHAMELESS ⊹ jeon jeonkook

summary: unsatisfied with your current relationship, you find yourself swept into an affair with a regular at your gym. it turns out he’s not the sweet, charming man you fooled yourself into believe he was but for some reason, you keep going back to him.

⊹ genre/au: gym instructor!y/n x jungkook. infidelity au. obsessive [she/her. afab] yandere

⊹ 31.6k

warnings: yandere towards the end. smut. coercion. morally gray characters. established relationship. cheating. heated arguments. aggression. angst. mentions of bl00d. manhandling. slight mind break. victim blaming in a sense. beware jk is very condescending and mean at times. he’s a munch. kissing in the bathroom. implied stalking. slutshaming.a lot more probs. manipulation. fight or flight response

[ song inspo: the greatest — billie eillish. phantom bride — deftones. jigsaw falling into place — radiohead. red sex — vessel ]

The first time you ever got a good look at the stranger was just a couple weeks ago. It was hard to keep track of the new members all the time and rarely had the chance to get to know any of them. You weren’t one of the ones at the front desk checking people in, getting them signed up and greeting them for their every visit. It made sense why you’d never seen him before that time.

You ran into him by pure coincidence one late evening when you were heading downstairs after a session and practically crashed into him at the water fountain. You apologized countless times, making sure he was alright and went on your way without thinking about it too hard. The only reason he was still on your mind was because of the others here. They wouldn’t shut up about him.

“He’s got a nice build, I think he’s my favorite,” Eunbi began with her usual rant about the new regular. You stood at the front lobby reading over your schedule for the morning when your friend started.

“Did you figure his name out?” Hoseok asked, only half interested in the conversation if not to entertain himself.

“Jeon Jungkook,” Eunbi said with certainty, “He’s from another location but looks like he’s switched over to this one. Y/n, just look at him.”

“Who?” You asked with feigned curiosity, looking over to the gym floor and who on Earth your friend could be talking about.

“The new guy, kind of tall, buff, tattoos,” Eunbi tried to explain but you and Hoseok just laughed. That describes most of the guys here nowadays.

“He’s over at Upper-Body,” He nodded his head toward the training area and found the presumed, Jeon Jungkook, Eunbi was going on about. It didn’t take long for you to realize she was talking about the guy you bumped into.

Today he wore a dark gray compression shirt under a baggy hoodie he had pulled off to do pull-ups and an entire sleeve of tattoos caught your attention, “So you found your newest victim?”

“Hardly, I’ve tried being friendly when he checks in but he couldn’t care less, it’s gonna take more to butter him up,” Eunbi said with a sigh, “Maybe he has a girlfriend.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok shrugged, “But it won’t hurt to try.”

“Y/n, what do you think?” She asked playfully, contemplating it.

“I think you can do whatever you put your mind to,” You answered sarcastically, making her lightly shove you as you smiled. Without much thought to it, you looked back at Jungkook trying to see what Eunbi saw.

He was attractive but he looked similar to many of the other regulars here. There was definitely something in his aura that seemed different but was Eunbi attracted to that type? Somewhere between your zoned out staring, he caught your gaze.

“I met this girl last night, she’s hot, her friend’s hotter and she’s interested in you,” Taehyung told him as he let go of the bar and made room for his friend’s turn.

“Is she?” Jungkook asked, barely paying attention as his friend did a set. He was supposed to be making sure he was doing them correctly but he was more distracted by who he saw in the mirror.

He’s seen you a couple times now but everytime is more exciting than the last. He doesn’t know you, doesn’t know anything aside from the fact that you’re an instructor here, but he’s only been able to have one interaction [if he can call it that] with you.

“Yeah, I’m hanging out with them this weekend, you should join,” Taehyung huffed tiredly, pacing a little to catch his breath, already wanting to move on to something else.

“I’ll think about it,” Jungkook wiped sweat off his forehead with the end of his shirt, “Have you ever checked out the training here?”

“Not when I’ve got free training sessions with my best friend,” Taehyung said with a chuckle, patting Jungkook’s arm, “Come on, I can’t take any more of this torture.”

He let Taehyung lead the way to the locker room, trying his hardest not to start at the front desk where you had been at for the last ten minutes waiting on someone. He still remembers how you bumped into him and he had to put a hand out to stop you from stumbling against the corner of the wall.

“Why?”

“Huh?” Jungkook asked, opening his locker to grab his things.

“Why are you asking about personal training ? You trying to ditch me onto someone else?” Taehyung asked jokingly.

“No, nothing like that. You’ve been here longer, I just wanted to know if you’re close with any of them,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

“I know the guy at the desk, his names Hoseok,” Taehyung said after they grabbed their things, “And Eunbi.”

“Which one’s that?” He asked, beginning to walk out of the locker room.

“The one at the desk, she always says hi,” Taehyung said, trying to subtly point at her. Jungkook looked with some recollection of who she was but she wasn’t the one he was curious about. He’s seen you a couple times around but not as much as the others.

He just simply thinks you’re pretty.

“Have a goodnight,” Eunbi said with her usual polite smile as they walked past and he couldn’t help but look at you instead as he said it back. You weren’t looking but that didn’t bother him too much. For now he had to play it cool, he didn’t want to be the creep at the gym who flirts with people there.

“So this weekend?” Jungkook asked as he unlocked his car, trying to think about what Taehyung wanted to do.

“I’ll text you more about it later. I’m still trying to figure out what we’re doing,” Taehyung said, “Same time tomorrow?”

Jungkook nodded and waved goodbye, leaving the gym’s parking lot to call it a night.

When you left work that day you barely remembered anything special that happened. It was more so the usual with your private sessions, gossiping with coworkers and Eunbi going on about the latest gym rat she’s obsessed with. Your at-home routine didn’t far off from the ordinary either, you had a quiet dinner waiting for your boyfriend to text back and called it an early night.

The weeks flew by pretty mundane aside from the times he’d get a glimpse of you. He still thinks you’re pretty, he likes your smile and your body, even your hair. You’re not exactly his type but for some reason his mind is stuck on you everytime he comes to the gym—which is often. To be honest, he thinks he moved to this location because of you and not because Taehyung came to this one more. It’s nothing serious aside from a small crush and there’s nothing he planned to do about it.

It was just his luck to catch you at the front desk one early morning with no one else around.

“Good morning,” you said with a yawn, regretting telling Eunbi the night before that you’d cover part of her morning shift before your first session. Jungkook hesitated to scan his member QR code immediately like he usually did. The gym was empty aside from a few early morning goers like him and it was still a little dark out.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, exiting out of the app and thought quickly what to say, “The code doesn’t seem to be working right now.”

“That’s okay, I’ll check you in,” You moved toward the desk top, trying to navigate through the check-in system you rarely used and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Jeon Jungkook,” he cleared his throat, leaning against the counter a little. That seemed to wake you up a little more, you looked up curiously to find the guy Eunbi was ‘crushing on’ and who you bumped into a while back. He was definitely more attractive up close and it took you a little by surprise.

He didn’t think twice about meeting your gaze with equal curiosity and he used this time to get a good look at you.

Pretty.

Very pretty.

You looked away first, ensuring the picture in the system had matched the guy in front of you.

“Alright, go ahead—“

“You’re not the one usually here, right?” He asked, stalling just one more time.

“No, Eunbi’s the one who works the front desk, she has an appointment this morning so I’m helping her out,” You told him with more enthusiasm, wondering if he was interested in her. If he was, Eunbi would be thrilled. Maybe, she likes to jump around a lot, her “Gym Boy of the Month” might have changed. It’s a fun staring game that she has and you like to play along with it despite being in a relationship.

Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgment at what you said before heading to the locker room.

He lost track of you when Eunbi came back and he finished his workout. You were probably working with someone and doubted he’d see you again until he’s back later tonight.

“You’re late,” His friend joked as he got to the car shop he worked at. He threw his things down in the office and clocked in.

“Went to the gym this morning,” Jungkook answered with a shrug. He grabbed his navy blue jumpsuit and slipped it over his clothes, “At least we don’t have any early appointments.”

“If you keep going twice a day you’re going to get too bulky like you did when we were at camp,” Namjoon joked as he read over the planner, “And we’ve got a failed transmission to fix some tint to do in an hour.”

He tried concentrating on work but today he struggled which wasn’t usual for him. He was distracted and had an itch of curiosity he couldn’t scratch.

When lunch came around Jungkook found himself on his cellphone, looking over the training program the gym provided and scrolled through the instructors. It didn’t take him long to find yours and learn your name. You’d been at the gym for two years and were basically booked out.

“Who are you talking to?” Namjoon asked curiously.

“Nobody,” Jungkook said.

“How’d it go with those girls Taehyung was talking about?” His friend pressed him.

“They wanted to reschedule so we never met up,” Jungkook told him as he searched you up on other social media platforms, “What are some telltale signs that someone has a boyfriend?”

Namjoon scrunched his face in a scowl, “One of them has a boyfriend? Yikes, and Taehyung still wants to—“

“Not them, who gives a fuck. I mean in general, I’m looking at someone’s Instagram but she doesn’t even post so I can’t tell,” Jungkook said seriously and Namjoon chuckled. He took the phone from him and looked at your profile.

“Everyone’s taken nowadays and this girl definitely is,” Namjoon said with a shrug, “Look at her tagged photos.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath.

“Who is Y/n?” Namjoon asked.

“No one, just some girl from the gym. She works there and I think she’s cute,” Jungkook tried sounding indifferent.

Namjoon smirked, “Ah, so that’s why you went this morning—you're still planning on going later aren’t you? I mean, yeah she’s cute but too bad she’s taken.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything because in all honesty he stopped listening—conveniently around the time Namjoon tried reminding him you had a boyfriend. There was no way to really tell anyway. Sure he was staring at a picture you were tagged in looking close to some guy but it could’ve been anyone. Right?

Later that day when you returned home, checking your cell phone for any missed calls you washed up and began to prep dinner when your boyfriend arrived. He didn’t bother knocking, unlocked your door and let himself into your apartment with no hesitation, “Here.”

“I see that,” You looked over at him from the kitchen, “Where were you?”

“I was with the guys getting a couple beers,” Minu said, kicking his shoes off at your door like he usually did, “I thought you were working late.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, “I got home a while ago.”

“I see that now,” he cleared his throat, walking past you for a glass of water and he reeked of beer, “Oh, and I’m going out this weekend.”

“With who?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“The guys,” you couldn’t help but mock him quietly. With a shrug of your shoulders you said, “That’s fine, Eunbi wanted to get some drinks this weekend too.”

“Eunbi? Who else is gonna go?”

“Just us two, maybe Hobi I don’t know,” You told him as he watched you finish up cooking.

Minu rolled his eyes, “Great.”

“What? You’re going out with your friends so I can go out with mine,” You told him with a raised brow trying to see what tone he was using.

“Nothing, just Hoseok’s a guy and Eunbi is… yknow,” He looked away, “Boy crazy?”

“So? All your friends are single and I don’t say anything when you go out for beers with them every other night,” You carried plates over to the dining table and Minu followed to sit down, not bothering to help you, “Plus Hobi has a girlfriend.”

“It’s different, the guys and I just hang out. You and your friends get drunk and do who the fuck knows,” Minu’s tone raised with irritation as you began to serve him, “What time will you be home?”

“What time will you be home?” You asked him harshly and watched as he scoffed.

“Let’s just eat, we’ll talk about it later.”

Choi Minu was your boyfriend of three years. Three years together and you get the same questions anytime you bring him up.

Why don’t you live together?

Why aren’t you engaged?

Do you plan on marrying?

Usually, the two of you did pretty well at avoiding them and finding something else to talk about but sometimes you find yourself asking those questions too. One would say you’re in a long term relationship and couples nowadays at least move in together after a few months, why didn’t you and Minu?

You were similar in many ways but it still felt like you didn’t know each other that well. He liked loud sports games and visiting dive bars every other night. He can be somewhat irrational and hypocritical but he wasn’t too bad of a guy. You loved him—of course you did—but you didn’t always like him.

He can surely say the same about you—he has. He’s called you a bitch before or screamed in your face for something stupid but you’ve done your fair share to annoy him. He’d say you’re stubborn and moody, confrontational instead of sweet. In reality, the question should be why you’re still together.

Clearly neither one of you cared to progress the relationship but at the same time neither of you wanted it to end. You’re comfortable with each other’s ugly parts and the idea of letting someone else get that close again grossed you out. So, you stuck around and you’re sure he felt the same.

Saturday came quicker than expected and you found yourself with your best friend getting dressed in your bedroom listening to whatever song was queued. With the weather as shitty as it’s been and packed schedules, you’ve barely had time to go out for a good night and you were determined to make tonight work. It probably had something to do with the fact that your boyfriend would be out doing his own thing and you didn’t want to spend the night wondering what that was.

“Is Hobi meeting us?” You asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror one last time. Despite it being cold, you felt the urge to wear something short tonight and to be honest, you think you looked good.

“Yeah, he’ll meet us somewhere on 11th street,” Eunbi applied a final layer of lip gloss, “Did you order the Uber.”

You rummaged through the grocery bag you bought earlier and pulled out two mini bottles of liquor for some early, well-needed liquid courage. You always got nervous whenever you went out with your friends—not because it wasn’t fun but because usually it ended with Min blowing up your phone while he’s drunk off his ass needing you to meet him somewhere.

“It’s five minutes away,” You handed her one of the bottles, making sure everything you needed was in your mini bag before you quickly cheered each other on and finished the drinks in one go.

Jungkook was thankful he chose to drive tonight. It worked as an excuse to not drink and he could make sure his friend wasn’t driving himself out. Finally, after a couple weeks those girls from before got back to Taehyung and asked him to go out.

Usually, Jungkook doesn’t entertain people a second time. He gives them one chance and if he’s not impressed he doesn’t try again, and when they rain checked his friend for the first time he had no intentions on going out tonight. The only reason he agreed is for Taehyung’s sake knowing he liked one of the girls.

“So you work with cars? You must know a lot,” one of them said to him over drinks. She had to practically tell it in his ear over the loud music and even then he can barely make out what she was saying.

“I guess,” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, “What's your name again?”

“Koo, we’ve been talking all night and you seriously forgot my name? That hurts my feelings,” she said with feigned hurt, putting her hand on his arm, “Hyejin.”

“Right,” Jungkook couldn’t bother to sound more interested.

He tried, he really did, and when Taehyung scolds him for not being more enthusiastic he’ll have to make him believe that. It’s not even that Hyejin wasn’t attractive, she was and probably his usual type but he wasn’t interested. She just seems like she tries too hard for approval from others. Does that sound bad? She was just boring and the girl Taehyung was with was so much hotter. Okay, now he probably sounds like an asshole.

“Want a smoke?” Jungkook asked Taehyung, hoping to get his friend away so he can convince him to let him go do his own thing with someone he would probably be more interested in.

“Sure,” Taehyung looked down at Mina, “We’ll be back.”

He didn’t bother asking them if they wanted to come along and left the nightclub with Jungkook for fresh air, “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook pulled out his pack and handed it to Taehyung while feeling around his pockets for a lighter, “What about you? How’s it going with Mina.”

Taehyung lit the end, “I’m sleeping with her tonight. I just know it. I’m sure Hyejin would be down if you actually acted interested in her.”

Jungkook could’ve said something about the way Taehyung was talking but it seems like he didn’t care enough to, so he just said, “Well I’m not interested.”

“She’s hot.”

“Yeah, so?” Jungkook rolled his eyes, inhaling smoke and releasing it into the cold night air, “I’ve been listening to her go on and on about absolutely nothing for the past two hours.”

“Great wingman,” Taehyung shoved his arm playfully, “Thanks for taking one for the team.”

“Yeah whatever, I’m about to leave you guys and do something else,” Jungkook said, “Tell them something came up and I’ll be back.”

“Are you serious?” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t go.”

Jungkook wasn’t fully listening anymore as he looked across the street at the long line leading into another nightclub. He had to do a double take and make sure who he saw was who he was thinking of.

“Isn’t that the people from the gym,” Jungkook asked trying to get Taehyung to look over. He noticed you first [clearly], you wore something black with light pink accents that suited your complexion nicely and the Eunbi girl had on something green. One of the guys behind you with an arm around another girl was Hoseok from the gym and the other he didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that he didn’t look like the guy from the pictures on your profile.

“Oh shit, yeah, looks like one of them has a boyfriend,” Taehyung said, finishing his cigarette before Jungkook finished his and threw it on the floor. He stepped on it to put it out before picking it up and taking it to the trash bin, “Ready?”

“You go ahead,” Jungkook said, looking across the street curiously, “I’ll go right now.”

“You better not be lying man,” Taehyung said with a sigh, showing the bouncer his entrance bracelet and going back in. He watched your group reach the front of the line to go in and without question, he found himself crossing the street to follow.

“I swear Y/n if I see you look at your phone one more time I’m stuffing it down my pants,” Yoongi said.

“Is that a threat?” You teased playfully, clutching your phone tighter in your hands and trying to deflect, “Or an invitation?”

“A threat,” Hoseok chimed in, “Can we just say ‘Fuck Minu’ and get drunk?”

“What have we been doing for the last three hours?” You asked following them to the bar at the club you just entered.

“We’ve been drinking, you’ve been babysitting one cup at every bar we go to,” Ara, Hoseok’s girlfriend, told you, “You gotta catch up.”

“Minu’s out with the guys, you know how he gets when he—“ Hoseok covered your mouth drunkenly, pulling you into a back hug.

“Shush, enough about him I need a drink and it’s your round,” Hoseok said, playfully shoving you toward the counter. With a roll of your eyes you made your way to the front and ignored your drunk friends behind you. You didn’t pay much attention to who was around you until someone made room for themselves right next to you.

For a second you thought they might try and cut in line before you but he didn’t seem to do that. He was able to get the bartender’s attention better than you but once he had it he directed her to you.

Jungkook listened to your order and waited to see if you’d notice him. Would you even remember him? You see him practically every day now.

“You work at the gym on ___ street, right?” He decided to ask, unable to stop himself from grabbing your attention. You looked at him closely, finally getting who he was and nodded your head.

“Yeah, I saw the other one, Eunbi over there,” He cleared his throat, “I always forget your name though.”

Y/n.

“Y/n,” you said with a clear voice, “Yours?”

“Jungkook, sorry I'm not trying to be a creep or anything but I see you practically everyday,” He said with an apologetic shrug. He tried looking indifferent but in reality he was extremely happy with the way things have turned out. He never expected to see you on a night out. It was like a reminder that you weren’t some figment of his imagination for when he’s working out.

“Yeah, you go a lot,” as you said it you couldn’t help but check him out. He wore a black button-up shirt and baggy jeans with sneakers and he looked good. His shoulders were still broad and his tattoos still peaked from under the sleeve. His hair seemed slightly pushed back which made his face look prettier even under this poor lighting.

Of course you shouldn’t be looking at another guy’s physique when you have a boyfriend, it just happened. In your defense you were a little tipsy.

Jungkook smiled, “Nice of you to notice. What are you drinking?”

You looked back at the bartender who currently made the drinks for you, trying not to think of how you were just looking at him, “I actually don’t remember. One of my friends told me what to order.”

He nodded his head, getting the bartender’s attention, “Add them to my tab—“

“No, don’t do that,” You rushed to say but Jungkook just flashed her a smile and told her to do it.

He couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “Why? It’s fine, it’s just a little ‘Hey I know you’ gift, nothing more.”

“But—“

You were hesitant to leave, not liking the feeling of him paying. If you were slightly more drunk and less aware you don’t think you’d care but you do. Jungkook shook his head, nudging your arm playfully, “It’s fine, go take them to your friends and if I find you again you owe me a conversation.”

A light scoff left your lips, not able to leave just yet as you caught on to his act. He was flirting, maybe? You can’t tell when someone’s flirting with you anymore [Minu doesn’t even bother] and maybe you’re overthinking it but that’s what it felt like. If that was the case then you shouldn’t entertain it. You know that.

“I thought it was nothing more than a gift,” You said, meeting his stare again. You weren’t nervous per se but this conversation felt strange. There was a slight teasing tone in your voice that urged Jungkook to keep going, hoping the conversation would go somewhere.

“You’re right, but I’d still like to talk to you just a little,” he couldn’t help but quickly look you over once more. Usually when he sees you you’re in some form of athleisure. He noticed your favorites were in soft colors like pink, matcha green, a nice cream and sometimes powder blue. Right now you’re in a black top with pink bows on the sides at the neckline near your chest. Your skirt was dark but he couldn’t quite tell the exact color but he’s sure he’ll figure it out. Simply put, you looked even prettier tonight than usual.

You considered stalling a little longer but you knew there was no reason to. All your friends were drunk and your phone buzzed with a notification from your boyfriend but Jungkook said it was nothing… he just wanted to talk. Surely it was nothing more…

With a small sigh, you pushed away from the bar counter and said, “Thank you for the drinks but my friends are waiting.”

And you have a boyfriend, you thought.

Jungkook looked back at the group with little interest but nodded his head anyway. It’s not like can force you to stay even if he really wanted to. You told him a quiet goodbye and he watched you walk away from him. What was he supposed to do now? Return to his friend and those women who could barely remember? Stay here and entertain whatever bimbo approaches him just so he can keep an eye on you?

He was more sure than ever that he was interested in getting to know you.

The way things would go was all mapped out in his head. Not once did he stop to consider your so-called boyfriend because he never saw him. You didn’t bring him up and in reality, Jungkook had no reason to think you were in a relationship. As far as anyone knew he was just someone you kind of knew.

After the night drinking he began to make himself more known when he saw you. He’d say hi at the door or give you a smile when you’d walk past him. Occasionally when he was lucky enough, he’d try and spark conversation—and not once did you mention a boyfriend. You talked about other things, your friends, your hobbies, but never once a partner. Even if you had a boyfriend it must not have been serious, he thinks.

“I can’t anymore Kook, my legs are going to fall off,” Taehyung groaned one afternoon as he nearly collapsed on the ground. Jungkook looked at him, slightly unimpressed and said, “You want to quit already?”

“Oh I’d love to,” Taehyung said sarcastically, “I’m done. I want to go home and take a nice hot shower.”

“Alright, well I think I’m gonna stick around a little lo—“ Jungkook began to say when Taehyung cut him off with a laugh.

“Just grow a pair and ask Y/n for dinner or something. That’s why we’re here this late, right? You’ve got a little crush,” Taehyung said looking around for you, “Personally I think Eunbi is more my taste but I think she’s got a thing for you.”

It was hard to ignore the constant attention Eunbi put on Jungkook whenever the two checked in. Jungkook didn’t say anything about what his friend said and let him leave without much care. After a while he finished his last set and headed toward the locker room to freshen up.

The sun had set by the time your last session ended. You were running behind schedule and hurried downstairs to the locker room to change. Your phone lay in a heap of clothes and you grabbed it to see the time.

You were supposed to meet up with Minu for dinner after work and you’re cutting it real close on time. He hasn’t texted you or tried to call so that worried you a little. Either he was running late too or something came up like usual. You sat on the bench for a moment, trying to ring his line but he didn’t answer right away. You nearly ended the call when he picked up.

“What’s up?” Minu asked casually.

“Are we still on for tonight? I just need to wash up—“

“Oh shit, yeah I forgot, um,” he looked around his apartment nervously, “I got off work and joined a tournament with the guys. Do you want to just pick up a pizza and come over? I got some drinks in the fr—Shit!—yeah, just come over. My team’s winning.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You slumped back, hoping the locker room was empty, “We’ve been talking about dinner for over a week now.”

“I know, I know but I might win money—fuck, I gotta hang up just walk in when you’re here,” Minu hung up on you.

He had the nerve to hang up on you.

You couldn’t help but scoff, annoyed with your boyfriend and unable to do anything about it. You could text him a long paragraph about what a stupid piece of shit he was but maybe that was too much? Was he even worth the energy?

Once you had all your things you walked to clock out at the desk and Eunbi was there talking with no other than the man of the hour. Her mon amour, Jungkook.

She looked at you with hearts in her eyes, “You’re off already? Where are you going now?”

“Home,” You said almost bitterly, glancing toward Jungkook. He flashed you a little smile but you didn’t return it. You were annoyed with Minu and it ruined your entire mood now.

Eunbi’s brows scrunched together, “I thought you and M—“

“Not tonight,” you cut her off quickly, heading around to the front of the desk and began walking toward the front doors, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jungkook didn’t want to act too sudden when the opportunity presented itself. He didn’t want to raise suspicion from Eunbi who he was currently buttering up. He wasn’t attracted to her but if she liked having him around it could bring him closer to you. Clearly it was working, he caught a hint of your conversation and it didn’t take much for him to understand what was going on.

You were upset, going home and with no plans tonight. The mere mention of you and someone else that Eunbi attempted to bring up was quickly shut down on your end and it was all Jungkook needed to hear. You left a couple paces before him but after a minute or so, he came up with his farewell to Eunbi.

The parking lot was dark aside from a few lamp posts here and there but he was able to find you pretty easily. He wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything but he had to make a move. You were walking toward a white, polished car.

“Are your days usually this long? I feel like I see you all the time,” Jungkook said, keeping a safe distance away to not startle you but he managed to, only a little.

You smiled in relief once you noticed it was someone familiar and began to unlock your car, “Sometimes. I take longer breaks between clients so it's not too bad.”

“You still owe me a talk,” Jungkook said with a playful tone.

“We talk all the time now,” You said back.

“We haven’t over dinner and drinks,” He said, “On me, I know a place near here.”

This was it. This was your chance to just outright tell him you’re in a relationship. He’s clearly not hoping to just be friendly like you’ve been telling yourself lately. He’s asking you to dinner, that’s gotta be something. You need to just tell him you’re taken. You’re in a relationship with someone that drives you insane and you can’t go out with him because he’s so clearly trying to pursue you.

“I don’t know,” you bit your lip, standing at the door of your car but not getting in just yet.

“It beats heading home for a boring night,” Jungkook said with a shrug, acting like it made no difference but he just wanted you to take him up on his offer already.

What he said hit closer to home than it needed to and it kind of irritated you. You were supposed to be heading to a nice dinner with your boyfriend but like usual he finds something more important to waste his time on. Tonight he chose video games over you, how considerate. The thought alone was enough to make you want to scream but now you’re being reminded of it and felt the need to do anything but spend a night alone.

“Where are you thinking?”

He smiled as you gave in and told you the address.

It was a small ramen place that you’d never been to but it was nice. The food was good and there weren’t many people around which made you feel less guilty. If you told yourself Jungkook was nothing but a friend then it’d be less weird to be having dinner with him alone behind Minu’s back.

“So, you’re always at the gym, what kind of work do you do? I’ve been wondering about that,” You played with your silverware as you waited for your meal, unable to think of what better to say.

He smiled a little at the thought of you being curious about him too and he sat straighter as he said, “I’m a mechanic, I just finished my military service a couple months ago and that’s the only kind of work I knew. It pays the bills.”

You saw the car he drove, it was a large truck that marketed around 80k dollars at the least. Even if he didn’t want to brag, clearly his job did more than just pay the bills. It was a black truck with silver detail and it somewhat suited his mysterious persona. You weren’t into cars but you knew a thing or two about popular models. Plus, although it’s mandatory, knowing he was in the military recently made you look at him differently. Did he bulk up while he was away or has he always been into fitness? What about his tattoos?

When the server came around with your bowl of soup Jungkook helped clear the table for you and watched how you thanked them, “Have you been here before?”

“No, I’ve walked past it before but I’ve never been inside, it’s nice,” You told him honestly, “Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes, with Taehyung or my coworkers,” Jungkook said.

“You live around here then?”

“About ten minutes away, you?” He asked curiously in between bites.

“Yeah, I live about the same distance? Crazy I’ve never run into you anywhere else,” You said, making him nod his head.

“Well we ran into each other that one night,” Jungkook told you, “I was surprised when I saw you. I don’t know how honest I should be but you looked very pretty.”

Okay, he’s flirting, you think. Tell him now, stop walking around it and just tell him that you’re in a relationship and shouldn’t be here.

You looked at him, finding his eyes already trained on you and every thought to tell him left your head. Jungkook was attractive and surprisingly soft spoken. He was attentive and made an effort to get to know you so you found it very hard to end this by telling him about Minu. Could he possibly be interested in a friendship instead of anything more?

“You looked good too. I thought you were one of those guys that lives in gym clothes all day and everyday but you clean up pretty well,” You said in a teasing tone, “I was impressed.”

He quirked a brow in amusement, “Good. Do you go out often?”

“Sometimes if I’m in the mood for it but lately it’s been too cold to be walking around from bar to bar,” You told him. Guys don’t usually like girls that go out and have fun so you fully expected him to get the ick but he just nodded.

“So tell me something else about yourself,” He said. In all honesty he had been waiting for you to bring up your boyfriend. You had many chances to but you hadn’t yet and now he couldn’t be any more clear. You can tell him how you’ve been seeing someone for a couple years now but will you? Will it make a difference to him anyway? He’s already decided that he likes you. Would he run off right away? No.

He’s never struggled in the dating scene but lately he’s found a lot of the women who approached him boring. Hyejin tried too hard to appeal and even Eunbi came off too desperate. He’s gladly never gone for someone in a relationship but he’s finding out that he doesn’t really care. Something about you has captured his attention and he doesn’t think he cares about who you’re seeing. Once his mind is set on you, he doubts it’ll change.

“I want to open a gym and teach reformer Pilates, that’s my goal,” You finally said to him, “I like working at the gym but that’s just something to help me save up for what I really want. Does that seem like too big of a goal?”

Minu always tells you it is. He said there’s other things you can use the money on but that’s what you want.

Jungkook smacked his lips in disappointment and looked away from you. You worried he’d tell you something similar about how it’s not likely to happen but instead he said, “I don’t think I’m flexible enough for Pilates but I’ll be your first client when it happens. Will I get one on one sessions where it’s just you and I alone somewhere?”

Inappropriate, that was inappropriate to say to someone in a relationship but in his defense he didn’t know. You’re supposed to tell him but you haven’t yet.

“I’ll see what I can do,” You said with a smile that matched his. The two of you finished eating, talking about anything and everything in between and to be honest you had a good time. It was getting late and you should be home by now but nothing was really urging you to go. Your boyfriend never called back asking why you didn’t go to his place and it only made you want to be with Jungkook more.

After a small disagreement over whether to split the bill or not, you let Jungkook cover it and followed him out. Jungkook held the door open, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

You didn’t decline his offer and walked down the street to where you had parked and looked back at him. It was late and time for you to go home.

“This is it,” You leaned against the driver’s side of your car, looking up at him as he looked around it. The space between you grew smaller with every step he took toward you but you didn’t do anything to change that. His arm rested on top of the car, practically trapping you between his body and the vehicle but once again, you didn’t do anything to push him away.

“When can I see you again?” He asked just above a whisper, leaning toward you more than before. His forehead nearly touched yours yet you still wouldn’t just… push him away.

“You’ll see me at the gym,” You said in a poor effort to distance yourself from him. He didn’t take the bait, only chuckled at your words and brought his arm closer, slipping down the car and so close to where your back pressed against the door. It would be so easy for him to pull you into him.

“Not enough,” Jungkook said simply, closing the space just a little more. He licked his lips, looking down at yours and not caring that you were in public or not. There was no one around and it was dark so really, who was worried about two people looking a little too close on the side of the street? “Just push me off if you don’t want this.”

You blinked, unsure what to make of what he was saying as you began to ask, “Wha—“

His hand touched the softness of your face, tilting your chin upward until you were at the right angle for his liking. His lips brushed against yours teasingly, trying to catch a taste if you wanted this or not and you haven’t pushed him away. It urged him on, closing the distance until his lips pressed firmly into yours, feeling the way you gasped in surprise and welcomed his advances.

Your hand fell on his chest, not to push him away but to grasp at his shirt and pull him into you with more force. Jungkook was tender at first, basking in the feel of your soft lips molding against his and how your face fit perfectly in his hand. As slow as the kiss was, it felt oddly intense and wanting like he couldn’t get enough. Once you opened yourself up to his advances, he didn’t hesitate to keep going.

His tongue slipped past his lips, swiping against yours softly and your lips parted more to let him in. With a low groan, he pressed into you harder, arm circling your waist as he kept you caged in his hold so he could kiss you however he liked. Your arms wrapped around his neck, dragging him down and kissing back with eagerness, tongues tangled together and without a care of what you were doing in public.

When you felt his fingers sneak under the head of your top, you seemed to snap back into reality. You shoved at his chest, nipping his lip with your teeth on accident but it didn’t seem to waver him. He stepped back, licking over the sudden swelling on his bottom lip and looked down at you, “Was that too much?”

“I—“ your mouth felt dry, combing your hair out of your face and looking around feeling embarrassed. Did you just kiss someone who wasn’t your boyfriend for anyone to see?

Realization hit you hard and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this, you were an idiot and a… cheater, what were you thinking?

“Y/n,” He reached down for your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Everything alright?”

Tell him. Tell Jungkook you’re in a relationship. Tell him you’re nothing but a cheating liar and made a mistake meeting him tonight. Tell him you can’t do this and that you don’t think you should see him outside of work but you found yourself staying quiet. Jungkook was waiting for the truth too but it never came.

Maybe if you told him, he might’ve hesitated to kiss you a second time…

This time around it felt more needy. Jungkook could feel the desire laced with every touch of your lips and he wanted more. He struggled to speak between kisses, “Let’s go somewhere more private. Where do you live?”

“No, no, we can’t,” you sighed breathlessly, eyes closed trying to reel yourself back into reality. You looked up at him with lust blown eyes and bit your lip in thought.

“Back to mine?” He asked instead, taking your keys out of your hands when you didn’t protest, “My truck’s fine parked here overnight…”

You didn’t argue when he led you toward the passenger’s side, drunk off his affection when he kissed you one last time before getting in the driver’s seat. His hand stayed firm on your thigh the entire ride, inching upward and back down in a soothing manner like he knew the earthquake that was happening in your head.

The drive back to his place passed you in a blur and you don’t remember how you found yourself tugging at his clothes the second you entered his apartment. Al thought his hands were rough and stained with grease from his job, they were oddly tender against your skin, sliding your top up so he could feel your bare waist.

You kissed heavily, following his lead to wherever he took you and felt yourself fall into black bed sheets beneath you. His hair wasn’t long but the front pieces fell against your forehead and brushed against your neck when he trailed his lips toward your jawline, nipping at your skin teasingly and making you gasp at the feel. With your lips parted to catch a breath, he kissed you again, tongue kissing yours in a nasty, wet mess of saliva. Usually when Minu got a little too handsy or did something you weren’t used to, you’d push him away but right now you’re welcoming this somewhat aggressive approach Jungkook took toward you.

You pushed at his chest gently, surprised when he began to lift himself off you without wanting to break the kiss and you followed him up until you were sitting. You worked quickly to unzip the front of your light pink defined jacket and he didn’t hesitate to help you slip it down your shoulders. His suddenly rough hands held onto your sides, pressing you firmly against him, not able to get enough of your mouth on his.

Jungkook released a breathless grunt when he felt your fingers slip into his hair and he pulled away to stare at you. Your breath hitched in your throat, when his hand cupped your jawline, fingers disappearing in your hair as he held you to look at him firmly. Without any meaning behind it, your fingers wrapped around his wrist as if he was holding you too strongly but that wasn’t the case at all. You liked the way his hand felt on you and he made sure you were looking in his eyes. You were even on your knees, sitting between his legs on the bed and in just your leggings and bra now.

He took the second to look you over, staring straight down at the black material of your bra. The hand around your jaw pulled you further, nearly making you stumble into him while his other hand traced along your spine, feeling around for the clasp of your bra and undid it easily. You didn’t care to act surprised about the indecency you found yourself in. His fingers brushed against your shoulder blades as he helped you out of the straps and his lips kissed every inch of skin he passed.

You couldn’t help but sigh, feeling the way he kissed your collarbone, trailing toward your breasts and teasingly touching you just just under them without acting touching your chest at all. It made you arch your back so your front would be pressed into his face more and he had you lying back down on the bed in no time.

“You gonna let me have a little taste?” Jungkook asked, hand finally cupping your left breast, thumbing your hardened nipple and running the pad of his skin over it to feel how your breath hitched. Goosebumps formed on your body when he kissed down your stomach with his experienced fingers gripping the waist of your leggings so he can pull them off. You went limp as you let him finish undressing you and his eyes didn't shy away from checking out your naked form.

His head fell, looking straight toward where your legs parted around him and lifted a curious brow before looking back up at you.

You shrugged, holding your head upright with your elbows digging into the bed, “Sometimes I don’t like wearing anything underneath when I work out.”

“Mm,” He hummed, taking in your words and running his hands up and down your bare thighs, wanting to crouch over to get a better look at your naked pussy, “Good to know.”

Just before he went all in, face first into your spread legs, you spoke up, “I need you to take something off too, you’re being a little unfair.”

He could hear the teasing tone in your voice and he couldn’t help biting back a smirk as he sat back on his haunches and did as told. You watched him stand up and pull his t-shirt off first, eyes scanning down to his sweats and watching him pull them down too. He wore white Calvin Kkein’s that showed the bulge of his erection clearly. You’ve seen most of this at the gym before but goddamn was his body amazing. Feeling impatient, he got back on the bed, hiding his body from you as he laid between your legs and threw them over his shoulders.

You squealed in surprise when he pulled you closer to his face. With his arms around your thighs, you felt his hands now pushing down on your hips, likely to stop you from squirming away as he pressed a soft, butterfly kiss on your hooded clit. It was just a teasing touch but your body reacted immediately and he smiled knowingly. Even if you had a boyfriend—clearly he wasn’t taking care of you.

Jungkook can show you just how well you need to be taken care of. You were beyond soaked and it made Jungkook want to ruin you with his mouth. He sunk his head down and licked flatly along your cunt. Your slick pooled on his tongue and he dragged it up, wetting your labia until it was to his liking and covered your hardened clit with your own arousal. Your thighs threatened to shut but his bruising hold on your legs kept you suffocating him. Even if you did, he doesn’t think he’d mind.

To be honest, Jungkook loves putting his mouth on someone and hearing them come undone by his actions. It made his cock hard and he couldn’t help but rut against the bed for some friction.

He had your lips parting with breathless moans at the way he worked his tongue inside you, his nose bumping your cloth beautifully and his tongue lapping at your pussy like it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands clawed at the silk sheets, body wanting to shudder with pleasure, unsure how to take everything he was giving to you, “Fuck, I can’t.”

You said it as your nails traced along his hair, grabbing a good chunk of it and pressing his face more into your pussy, moaning at the way he kissed your clit while his fingers pulled your folds apart.

“Just a little more, baby, you’re soaked,” Jungkook said with a glistening chin, looking down at your greedy cunt hungry for another taste. His middle finger played at your entrance, wanting to get inside of you but the longer he tempted the ring of nerves, all he could think about is how good it’d be to feel the first stretch of your cunt around his cock instead.

A low groan left his lips as he sat up suddenly, shaking his head of hair in disappointment when you whined cutely, “Condom, we need a condom.”

“Just pull out,” You said in a sultry voice that made his heart beat faster but he was thinking with his dick too much. He needed to think with his brain, “I’m not gonna pull out so I need a condom unless you want my babies tonight.”

Though the offer was half tempting, you very clearly didn’t want that all and let him search for protection. When he got back to you, his dick was covered and pointing at you and your legs spread shamelessly for Jungkook to lay between them. Instead, he grabbed your left leg and threw it over your right so your hips were on their side and your ass was toward him nicely. He still had a view of your pretty tits but now he got a view of your ass too and the way your torso turned in this position.

“Pretty pussy, fucking hell,” He mumbled to himself, placing one hand on your hips to tilt your ass up and his other hand was pointing the tip of his dick to your puffy folds, red with abuse of his tongue and sloppy wet.

“Fuck me already,” you said with a wiggle of your hips and a gasp leaving your lips the second the words fell from your mouth. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to push his cock in, focusing solely on the tip as he watched you take that breath. He kept pushing in, taking your expression as a sign that you didn’t mind the sudden intrusion and pushed in to the hilt, skin touching skin with his cock fully sheathed inside you.

“I wanted to go easy on you,” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, hand rubbing your ass cheek possessively, “But if you’re going to be impatient then I will too.”

You weren’t thinking clearly at all. He felt too good. You felt too good. You can’t remember the last time you had a good fuck, usually Minu only cares about himself and to be honest he can’t last for shit. You're a little surprised with yourself and how the last thing you wanted was for Jungkook to go easy on you. He was the release you needed.

Jungkook’s presence loomed behind you and sweat trickled down his taut abs that had you letting out a moan when you watched the way the veins on his v-line led straight to his cock. He didn’t catch the way you looked at him, too focused on the way your dripping pussy sucked him in and refused to let him pull out. You’re tight, more than he expected frankly.

It’s such a shame that your boyfriend has someone like you and he doesn’t please you? A real shame, he thought as he licked his dry lips and pulled out, only letting his tip stretch your entrance and once he caught a good breath, he began to set a pace.

His thrusts were slow at first, hard and well making you let out the prettiest of noises. His nails dug into your thigh, anchoring himself as he fucked you with intent to make a mess of you. Right now you hugged a pillow to your face, trying to blur out your noises and he didn’t like that at all. Don’t be ashamed to feel good with him. That’s what he’s made for.

He bent forward, cock buried in you as he reached for the back of your neck, squeezing slightly until you got the hint and tried to hold your head up. You pushed your hands into the mattress, unable to fully got on your knees with the position Jungkook had your legs in but your back was flexible. You fucked back into him while turning to look at him and being met with a wet kiss that had you whining. Your arm came around his neck from behind and he moved back, dragging you with him until his hands were pushing your hips back to sit on his lap, making you grind your ass on him.

“So close baby,” he warned, fucking you open on his thick member.

You couldn’t find words, only moans that tumbled out of your mouth, fucking him with eagerness you hadn’t felt in a long time until you were at your breaking point.

Jungkook didn’t give much warning after that, his hand fell toward your clit and rubbed your wet pussy while he bounced you on his dick and brought you to the edge. You couldn’t process the sudden pleasure and how you screamed his name before almost collapsing on the bed if it wasn’t for his hold. Like he said, he didn’t pull out when he came. He pushed you down his entire length until his orgasm hit and thick cum was spilling into the condom.

“Oh my god,” you sighed, trying to catch your breath as he let you go, inevitably falling face first into his bed. Jungkook was puffing out of breath, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he ripped the condom off and stared down at you. Without thinking, his hand came down on you ass, shimmying down once more and trying to get you on your knees so he could get back to work.

“No, I need a second,” You said with a small moan when he angled your ass up and his face a mere inch away from your used cunt.

“I’m just gonna clean you up from the inside,” he licked his lips hungrily, “Relax.”

And you did. He had you asleep in his arms before he knew it and all he could think about is how long it had been since he had sex that good, wondering what was on your mind and if it was him or not.

When it felt as though your body had finally relaxed to fall asleep, your actions sank into your bones jolting you awake. It was the witching hour when you checked the time on your phone, the blinds were closing out the moon and there was a heavy arm draped across your body that didn’t feel right.

Jungkook stirred in his sleep, nuzzling his hair into your side when you tried to sit up, “What are you doing?”

“I have to go,” You told him, not able to whisper as you looked down at him in disbelief. Did you really sleep with him? A stranger. Yes, you knew Jungkook to an extent but at the end of the day he was not your boyfriend, he was not your friend, he was still a stranger to you. You’ll jeopardize your relationship for him?

This wasn’t like you at all. You weren’t the type to cheat, never in your life did that ever cross your mind yet in a blink of an eye that’s what you’ve done. You can’t make any sort of excuse at all. It wasn’t a text or some light flirting. You slept with him, slept with someone who you were not in a relationship with. It was making you sick.

When Jungkook processed what you said, he was snapping himself awake, sitting up and reaching for you, “What are you talking about? Look at the time.”

“I know but I should go, I have to uh…” You struggled to think of a better reason without exposing you for the truth and began to grab your thrown clothes off the ground. It was a humiliating reminder of your actions. With a hitched breath you tried again, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook said your name so calmly, “Relax, it’s fine. Just get back in be—“

You practically ran out the room. You couldn’t think to look back when he called your name out the front door and went straight to your car. The cold had seeped inside and the windshield was lightly frosted over making it hard to leave as quickly as you wanted to escape. You got the courage to check your cellphone and check your notifications. There were a few texts, DMs, and shares from your friend but only one text from your boyfriend.

minu: ig u didn’t want to come over?

minu: goodnight

It was sent an hour ago when you and Jungkook were… yeah.

You cheated. You cheated on a man you’ve been with for three years with someone you barely knew. There was no way to sugarcoat it [not that you could] and it made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t beg for understanding because how? What reason did you have? That Jungkook was attractive? That he was nice to you and actually wanted to be around you? You don’t know him! You don’t know what kind of guy he is and clearly you don’t even care because if you did you wouldn’t have risked your relationship with him.

What the fuck was wrong with you? You needed to tell Minu right now.

The ring of the call echoed through the silent car as you pressed the phone to your ear, gnawing on your bottom lip. There was a big chance Minu was asleep but you had to say it now. You wouldn’t be able to face him any other time.

“Hello?”

“You’re still awake?” You asked with a small sniffle, sitting up in the driver's seat where Jungkook had once been taking you to his place.

“Yeah, we finished the tournament. Now I’m playing Minecraft,” Minu said, too focused on his game to catch the tone in your voice and how it quivered.

You didn’t say anything as the words caught in your throat. You had to tell him, you know that but he didn’t sound at all worried about what you could’ve possibly been doing. For all he knew you were at home still pissed off he canceled dinner and he would still be playing games.

You felt like crying.

Jungkook had to stop Bam from barking loudly when you stormed out and took even longer to find his own things. He ran after you in shoes with no socks and a zip-up sweater with no shirt underneath. His hair was a mess and he was half asleep but he wanted to go find you. It was cold, late and dangerous out for you. Why on Earth would you leave at this hour?

“I’m probably gonna go to sleep soon though,” Minu finally said.

“Yeah, me too,” You said back, slumping in the seat and closing your eyes. He didn’t care to know what you were doing and though that didn’t excuse why you didn’t tell him, it made you feel better. As twisted as that sounded. Minu was not the type to reach out to you first. He hadn’t been at all worried about where you were or who you were with.

It felt like forever before you were able to move again and the first thing you did was look back at Jungkook’s apartment. You nearly jumped as you watched him standing just outside your car looking dazed and confused. You gathered enough strength to roll the window down and looked at him.

“I just wanted to make sure you got to your car,” He said, not mentioning anything about how he clearly saw you on the phone with someone. He didn’t say anything about the way you suddenly jolted out of bed or the reason why.

He knew why.

“I’ve got to be up early,” Was all you could think to say and he chuckled. He couldn’t believe how you still avoided the mention of your boyfriend but he didn’t mind it.

“Okay,” Jungkook said with a small nod, “I’ll call you?”

No, you needed to tell him no and drive off but instead you just nodded in response. He watched you leave for the night and returned home feeling good compared to you.

In all honesty, after you had finished and were just laying in his arms he had a second of weakness where he let his guilty conscience set in. He thought about the guy you were seeing and how fucked up it was to have you in his bed but it was a short lived feeling. He realized he liked how you felt with him and how he could treat you better and all sympathy left when you fell asleep.

He didn’t care you were with some other guy, he’ll fix that.

Cloud 9.

He felt as though he’d been on cloud 9 the other night. That was the only way he can explain it and it’s all he was able to think over the weekend. Even when you ran off on him it didn’t stop him from feeling this way. He understood it would take time for you to come to terms with your new feelings and the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you any further.

On Saturday he went to the gym with Taehyung but you were nowhere to be seen.

On Sunday was his ‘off’ day and he spent it at home hating himself for never actually getting your phone number. How was he supposed to call you if he never got it? What an idiot.

Monday came and he had been brought down from his cloud of bliss when he didn’t see you first thing in the morning. He expected you to be around like you usually were but you weren’t and though part of him wanted to ask your friends why he decided not to overthink it. He went to work and hoped he’d see you later when he returned.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Namjoon said at one point. Jungkook had been smiling all day, being obnoxious to his hyung and doing everything in his power to remain feeling good. He kept telling himself that he’d run into you later and get everything sorted out.

“I’m in love,” Jungkook said dramatically, only half-joking, “I mean like… maybe too soon to tell but real close? I don’t know.”

Namjoon chuckled, “So it did work out with that girl? Taehyung was complaining to me for days about how rude you were. What happened? Did you guys go out again?”

“No, with the girl from the gym, Y/n,” Jungkook smiled as he leaned against the Ford Focus that Namjoon was tuning up, “We had dinner last week and it went really well.”

“I thought she had a boyfriend,” Namjoon looked up from under the hood.

Jungkook waved his hand as if shaking the thought away, making Namjoon sigh, “Don’t be that kind of guy.”

“Sh, just trust me okay?” Jungkook said as he pushed off the car, “I’m seeing her later.”

You practically crouched behind the front desk at work as you read over your schedule. You had one last client today and then you were free to bedrot like you’ve done for the last couple days. Thankfully your boyfriend didn’t care to reach out to you —he was too busy with his friends to notice something was off—and you were allowed to be alone with your thoughts.

Your guilty conscience was eating you from the inside but more so because you’ve realized what a terrible person you are. For some reason what happened with Jungkook had felt like the end of the world. Minu would somehow know immediately that another man touched you and do something about it. You weren’t sure what was worse.

Your boyfriend finding out about your infidelity immediately or going on with his usual act of ignoring you too much to notice you did something wrong.

The angel on your shoulder has been begging you to confess to someone but the devil whispered not to. If he hasn’t caught on… he never would. You can continue on like normal and just avoid Jungkook, focus on your boyfriend and become a good doting partner.

“Hey Tae, Jungkook,” Eunbi said in her usual chirpy manner and you felt like disappearing into the floor.

“Hey,” both guys said as they checked in and you could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. You forced yourself to look at your planner and not up at him but he made it too hard.

“Y/n,” He said, sliding down the front desk till he was directly in front of you, “How are you?”

His question was harmless, he was just a regular who knew you by name. That’s how it appeared anyway but the look he gave you was different.

You gave him one of your best customer service smiles and stood up, “Great, Jungkook. You?”

You didn’t give him time to respond as you turned to Eunbi, “I’m going to go check on the saunas, tell me when my client is here.”

Taehyung looked between the two of you as Jungkook went to follow you. Eunbi barely had time to process what was going on when someone else came to check in and she had to shift her attention. The two went to the locker room where Taehyung finally asked, “What was that? You finally getting the courage?”

“Something like that,” Jungkook said with a shrug, shoving his bag in his locker as he switched shoes and put on a waist belt to work out in. Taehyung couldn’t help but smirk, “I’m still a little pissed you blew me off with those girls the other night but if it was to get lucky with Ms. Trainer, I’ll let it go. Did you? So she doesn’t have a man?”

“I’ll meet you for warm-ups, alright?” He left before Taehyung could respond and headed upstairs.

The sauna rooms were small and mostly empty so it wasn’t hard for him to find you cleaning one up for your next client. He knocked on the door lightly, waiting for you to turn and look at him, “So, I said I was going to call you and like an idiot, I never actually got your number.”

“Jungkook,” You stood straight, looking at him with unnecessary embarrassment, “Um, about the other night… it was a mistake.”

“Really?” He asked, taking a step closer to you, “I thought we really hit it off. I’ve been thinking about you and you don’t know how mad I was at myself that I couldn’t call you or see you until no—“

“I have a boyfriend.”

He stopped walking, standing just a couple inches away from you and it made you realize just how much bigger he was than you. It’s probably why he was able to manhandle you so easily in bed—snap out of it, Y/n.

You expected him to scoff and storm off annoyed or call you some mean names figuring you weren’t worth his time then but instead he laughed. He walked closer, “Is he gonna beat my ass now?”

“What?” Your throat went dry, stepping back when he reached out to touch you.

“I figured a girl like you wouldn’t be single so where is he?” Jungkook looked around for entertainment.

“You knew?”

“I had a feeling,” Jungkook said calmly and for some reason it made you want to relax too but you forced yourself to remain tense with him. He released a sigh, “Well? Where is he? Or have you not told him?”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came to mind. Was he being serious? Why did it seem like he didn’t care? Maybe he really didn’t. Maybe you were just a one time thing and he couldn’t care less? If that was the case why was he even bothering with you right now?

“I haven’t told him,” You admitted, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I already fucked up and I can’t talk to you anymore.”

“Come on Y/n,” He reached for your hand and you dumbly let him take it, “I’m not dumb. I knew the second you ran out on me something was up but be honest right now. You wanted to spend the night with me, don’t call it a mistake.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, I know, but… Jungkook, let’s just forget about it. I’m sure it was nothing serious for you anyway, I’m the one that fucked up.”

“So go tell your boyfriend right now,” Jungkook pointed to the door of the sauna, “Because if you really felt guilty you wouldn’t be bothering to tell me how wrong it was. You’d be telling him.”

Fuck, he was right.

You tried not to pay attention to the way his thumb caressed your knuckles, pulling you into him as he said, “You can say how wrong it was all you want but you wanted to do it. You had all night to tell me you were in a relationship but you didn’t. I have feelings for you and you can’t say you don’t feel anything for me.”

“I don’t, I shouldn’t,” you ran your fingers through your hair anxiously, “This is fucked up.”

“But it happened already, it’s been days and you haven’t told him so why bother now?” Jungkook was speaking to you in his usual calm tone but his hold on your hand was firm, making sure you can’t let go until you were in his open arms. There was a single tear in your eye that he couldn’t help but kiss away and though you flinched at his touch, you didn’t pull back. He smiled softly and hugged you, “We’ll figure this out.”

The two of you didn’t have anything to figure out. You had things to figure out. What you needed to do was push Jungkook away—not give him your phone number so he can be there for you like he claimed.

He texted you that night and the night that followed too. It was hard to avoid him at the gym but he understood enough to not bother you there. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his eyes on you anytime you were near but you tried not to focus on it. You had to tell Minu if you wanted things to work out with him.

You’ll tell him tonight. You decided already.

Hoseok had made a comment today about how you’ve been off lately and if he noticed you’re sure Minu caught on too. That’s why after work, you went to visit him.

“Min?” You called him for him as you let yourself into his unlocked apartment holding bags of takeout to have dinner together.

You can hear his shouting from the living room followed by more and walked in to see him and his friends already eating.

“Babe,” Minu said with a mouthful of pizza, “Sit down, you're blocking the TV.”

“What’d you bring?” One of the guys asked, trying to open one of the bags you brought as all motivation to tell him tonight quickly left your body and was replaced with what felt like unrightful annoyance.

You called him earlier to ask if you can come over for dinner and he said yes. You’d told him you wanted to talk about something and he said he’d hear you out. Now you’re here and so are four other guys he calls his friends all trying to eat the food you brought and pretend you weren’t here.

“I'm getting another drink,” Minu said as he got up while the game paused and you followed, “Sorry, I forgot that I planned guys night at my place. What’d you want to tell me?”

“Well I wanted us to be alone,” You said over their loud banter from the living room, “You couldn’t cancel one night with them for your girlfriend?”

How were you supposed to tell him now?

Minu laughed softly, working around you to open the fridge and grab a soda can, “Besides what’s so important they can’t be here? Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

You scoffed, “No I’m not fucking pregnant, Minu. Jeez.”

“Then what is it?”

“Minu! Man hurry up!” One of them called out.

“I’m going!” Minu shouted back, “Come on.”

“I’m going home.”

“Suit yourself.”

You stormed out of the apartment angrily. Stupid, you were so fucking stupid and Minu was the worst. You made a mistake and wanted to tell him because it actually is a big deal and he blows you off, like he always does [!]. It made you want to scream. You cheated on him and he didn’t even care to know.

Once again you found silent comfort in your car as you sat alone deep in thought. You tried owning up to your mistakes but you couldn’t. It wasn’t the time. It made you feel so much worse to think about what Jungkook said.

Why bother telling him now?

Clearly Minu doesn’t care what you do, or at least that’s what you told yourself. You can break up with him and he probably won’t care. It would be for the better if you did but then who would you have? Jungkook? What if he really was just stringing you along as some sort of karma? Maybe the universe thought you were in the wrong being with a guy you didn’t love for three years and was trying to fuck your life up.

It would be the only explanation for why Jungkook knew when to call.

You looked down at your cellphone, his unsaved number on display as he called and despite telling yourself not to, you answered, “Hello?”

“I haven’t heard from you, I’ve even done my part and given you space when I see you, Y/n, it’s getting hard,” Jungkook said as he stood in his bedroom while Namjoon and Taehyun drank in the living room, petting Bam, “I want to see you again.”

“We can’t,” you tried to hide the sniffling you let out, “I have a boyfriend.”

You couldn’t see the way he rolled his eyes and sat straighter, “But you answered my call and I can tell in your voice something’s wrong. Are you home?”

“I’m about to be,” you lied, starting your car to get your attention off of him.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, standing up abruptly. You thought about the food you left at Minu’s and sighed. He picked up on it and couldn’t help but smile, “How about I come over and make you something? I told you I’d be here for you.”

But he can’t be. You can’t let him comfort you. You cheated on Minu with him for fucks sake.

As if your heart was speaking before your head could think it over, you were telling Jungkook that your text him your address and hung up.

Jungkook couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he went to the living room, “You guys can hang out here for as long as you want but I’ve got plans so I gotta go.”

“Where to?” Namjoon asked with furrowed brows but Taehyung answered instead, “We know where.”

“Make sure Bam is in his kennel before you guys go, alright?” Jungkook hurried to change, ignoring Namjoon’s look of judgement.

When he arrived you didn’t say anything as he looked around curiously. It was a small one bedroom apartment but it seemed to hold his interest well. He focused on everything he could from your kitchenware to the dying plants at the window or the bowl of pomegranates on your dining table and the yoga mats rolled up in the corner of your living room.

“Lucky for you, I’m a good cook,” Jungkook said as he went to your kitchen with the bag of groceries he picked up before stopping here. You watched him find his way around your apartment, not bothered at all by your circumstances tonight. He didn’t care at all if you were in a relationship or not.

���What are we doing?” You dumbly asked,’wondering if he’d tell you something about why he dealt with you.

Jungkook looked up with a quirked brow, “About to have dinner?“

He smiled when you rolled your eyes and waited for you to really ask what you wanted to know, “I mean you and I. I know I said you can come over but we both know that it’s wrong.”

His shoulders rose in a shrug, bringing out your cutting board and a kitchen knife, “It doesn’t feel wrong.”

You let out a huff, frustrated with yourself more than anything. Of course he wouldn’t think it’s wrong he’s not the one in a relationship. Still, shouldn’t he feel a little guilty?

“I don’t like how you try and act guilty and like it was all a mistake,” He told you honestly, making you look up, feeling taken back by his statement, “If you really felt as guilty as you’re acting you wouldn’t have let me in. You wouldn’t have answered my calls or been with me that night. Is it hard for you to get that you like me?”

You didn’t want what he said to be so brutal and honest but you needed to hear that. You were trying to sound so pitiful like you’re the sole victim here when you’re not. Sure, Minu treats you like shit but why don’t you just leave him? Why do you sneak around with Jungkook and then acting like you don’t want him around?

He finished making dinner and brought over two plates, sitting next to you silently eating and waiting for you to say something. He felt bad for putting you in a situation like this but if you didn’t want him… you would’ve never fallen for his advances. He clearly treats you so much better than your current boyfriend so why are you acting like it’s a burden to have him around?

“Where did you go earlier?” More specifically, where did you go after work?

“I was with Minu,” You answered, watching how his eyes stared you down for a second before he nodded his head, taking in what you said. Maybe Jungkook was only pretending to not care as much as he did. What kind of person wants someone that someone else already has and how do they not feel an ounce of betrayal or jealousy or possessiveness? You weren’t trying to instigate anything, you just wanted him to be more honest with himself too.

You’ve risked your relationship with a guy you barely know and you’re not even 100% sure about how he feels for you. Was Jungkook using you for entertainment or did he have feelings for you?

“Nice,” Jungkook had lost his appetite and sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest but his attempt to seem casual failed, “What’d you guys do?”

“I shouldn’t tell you,” You leaned against the table when he drew back and it made him eye you suspiciously.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he said, “So how’d you end up with me instead?”

“He has a tendency to prioritize his friends over me and tonight was no different.”

“So you haven’t told him?” He asked, “How long have you two been together?”

He gave you no time between questions, wanting to get to the point of it and it made your feelings of guilt return.

“Three years.”

“Well, if you loved him you’d leave him,” Jungkook said with a shrug that was so indifferent and unbothered that your mouth parted in surprise.

“I was going to tell him tonight, I had it all planned and then at the last minute he invited all his friends and how would I tell him then?” You said and he couldn’t help but smile. You explained yourself but you didn’t really care for what he was saying. He had half pointed out how you can’t possibly love your boyfriend while also telling you to dump him already. You didn’t reject either.

“So I’m your dirty secret then?” He asked in a playful tone, leaning forward again and mirroring the way you rested your chin in your palm and observed him. Even if you wanted to act like he didn’t get to you, he knows he did. You like him and he’s not backing down until he has you all to himself, “If that’s the case, will you let me spend the night?”

“Desperate,” you pointed at him and sighed, getting up to gather the fished and wash up, “Shameless and…”

“Can treat you better? I know, say what you want but I’m very self aware,” Jungkook ended your sentence and followed after you, “Just one movie then and I’ll leave, how about that?”

You granted him at least that and let him lay with you in your living room trying to find something to watch. Neither of you were interested in watching a movie but it was something you wouldn’t admit. You wanted Jungkook around even if you knew you shouldn’t.

“How’d you meet?” Jungkook asked, pulling your legs on his lap. A part of you wondered if he was going to ask you all kinds of questions tonight since it’s the first you’ve seen each other and been around long enough for the topic to be brought up. You’ve done a lot of avoiding and now there’s no way around it—which is good, right?

“Through a mutual friend. We were friends for a while before he asked me out,” You opened up to him so easily it drove you wild. Why were you so willing to be after telling yourself you wouldn’t be able to get too close to anyone aside from Minu?

“And you guys still don’t live together? It’s been three years,” he said, trying to read your expression when he ran a soothing hand along your leg, itching to reach for your waist and pull you onto his lap. He missed being this close.

“It’s complicated, clearly,” You said with a scoff, hiding your face behind your hands as you scooted to lay down.

“Clearly,” Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Come here.”

“Jungkook…” You looked at him but he was reaching for your arms to make you sit up. You let him drag you onto him.

“What?” He asked feigning naivety and doing such a poor job at it when his hands found your hips and positioned you to straddle his lap, “Don’t tell me it’s wrong.”

You won’t. It was obvious it was wrong and admitting that over again wouldn’t make you suddenly push him away and that made it all worse.

“Are you usually this persistent?”

“When there’s something I really want,” Jungkook said in a whisper now, lips brushing against your neck.

“This is such a bad idea,” You whispered back, tilting your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him anyway. He placed a soft kiss, “Shh, just stop thinking about it and kiss me, yeah?”

“That’s not good,” You whined, hand cupping his chin and making him look up to kiss you, “Fuck.”

He kissed you with a need you haven’t felt from anyone else in a while. His hands circled around your waist, taking their time traveling across your hips and settling comfortably on your butt. With a firm hold, he pressed your body into his more and you kissed him harder.

“I’m hungry,” He said between kisses, tongue peeking out lazy and he watched how your lips covered it in nasty kisses that had him guiding you right over where he needed you the most. His body reacted instantly to the thought of you and as embarrassing as it was to admit, he’s been turned on since you decided to wear those little black shorts you like to wear when you work out.

You smiled, pulling back with a tug at his bottom lip with your teeth, “We just ate.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed, head dropping with disappointment and you ran your fingers through his hair, unsure what he was thinking. His big hand began to roam along your butt, fingers hooking around where your hips met your thighs and felt the crease from your sitting position with tenderness. You looked down when he caressed your thighs, sliding his hands up to tease your pelvis while managing to avoid your heat. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t beginning to feel aroused. You knew what he was implying and though it excited you, you wanted something else.

You slid off his lap with your hands on his thighs, “How about I treat you to something this time?”

His face lit up instantly, smiling giddily, “I can work with that.”

You were in the wrong and you knew that but after a while it didn’t seem to bother you as much. Jungkook made you feel wanted and it made you weak to him. The obvious thing to do would be to dump Minu so you don’t keep betraying him but every time you thought about it you couldn’t bring yourself to actually do it.

You became one of those girls who cheats on their boyfriend and Jungkook was so readily available. It felt like you were using him too but he didn’t even care—or well it felt like he didn’t.

When you’d see him at work he’d keep things brief in front of everyone but you’d feel his eyes on you anytime he was around. He tried not to bother you all the time but would happily accept your calls everytime you rang for him. He was enabling your terrible behavior with a smile on his face and it was the damndest thing.

“You’re distracting me,” He said a few nights later when he passed you on the staircase. You hesitated a second, looking up at him as you headed down and your eyebrows raised, “How? I was with a client.”

If anything now that you’ve seen him, you’re the one left distracted. Sweat marked his hairline and his cheeks were rosy from whatever warmup he’s just done and he was breathing heavily, chest rising and lowering with each breath.

“Yeah and there’s mirrors all over,” Jungkook smirked when he had your attention, “I can get a good view of you wherever I’m at.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, annoyed but stupidly charmed and began to walk back down, “Don’t be a creep.”

“Can I see you tonight?” He asked in a lower voice, looking down both ends of the stairs to see if anyone was around.

“Maybe,” You told him playfully, “If I’m not busy.”

Before he left, he pushed his bottom lip out giving you a sad and dramatic pout and nodded his head. You rolled your eyes with a smile and headed to the front desk to clock out.

It’s not that you didn’t want to see him too but you had to be smart here. You can’t just spend all your time with Jungkook because that would raise questions. Besides, Ara and Eunbi were coming over to watch the latest episode of Single’s Inferno.

You had really thought Jungkook would be okay with not seeing you tonight but it appears that wasn’t really the case.

jungkook: not even for a little bit? :(

you: I have ppl over

jungkook: mmmmmmmmmm

jungkook: after?

You typed back ‘maybe’ and set your phone down, trying to ignore it so you could spend time with the girls. You wanted to enjoy some time by yourself and act happy and normal like everything should be.

When your friends left and you debated calling him or not, you received a call from your boyfriend.

“Y/n?” Someone said on the other end that had you furrowing your brows, “It’s Rowoon, I’m with Minu and we were having some drinks after work an—“

“Is that Y/n?” You could hear Minu ask before some rustling was heard and he was talking now, “Babe, what are you doing? Can you come pick me up?”

“No way you’re drunk, it’s a Tuesday,” You said with a sigh, happy you were alone when you got his call, “Where are you?”

So it was a good thing you never told Jungkook to come over. It just sucked that you spent the night getting scolded for telling your boyfriend not to drink so much and for not sleeping with him lately. It was a night wasted in arguments when you could’ve been with someone who wanted to be around you.

“Remember Hyejin?” Taehyung asked him randomly a couple nights later, “She started seeing someone, probably got tired waiting for your attention.”

Jungkook shrugged, “Good for her.”

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked him.

“I’m gonna see Y/n,” Jungkook told Taehyunf honestly as he packed his things into his sports bag, “We’re making dinner and watching a movie.”

It’s been just a few days since he last had seen you but to him it felt too long. Time goes by extremely slow when you’re not around and as much as he likes to act unaffected with your current situation [that’s how he’s started to view your relationship], its starting to get to him. He just needs things to speed up already.

“Look at you, someone’s handsome late-night call,” Taehyung teased, not caring much about his friend’s choices. He knew Jungkook was wrong for seeing someone in a relationship but that didn’t change his friendship with him. Jungkook isn’t the one in the relationship and Taehyung isn’t the one being lied to so what does it have to do with him?

“I prefer the term, ‘Evening call’ instead,” Jungkook said in a joking manner. The oldest released a scoff as he swung his backpack onto his shoulder and began walking out the locker room first, “No shame.”

Jungkook just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, following his friend out. He knew your schedule had been free for the evening and left home a while ago so he didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone else at the front desk.

“I really am shameless, aren’t I?” He asked once the two were outside, “Does that make me a terrible person?”

“It makes you a stupid one, what are you gonna do when she gets caught? You’re just here to ruin her relationship for fun?” Taehyung asked curiously.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jungkook told him, “Have you ever seen something that you knew you just had to have? Anything, anyone?“

“Aish, you’re crazy,” Taehyung said with a laugh, “Just be careful what you get yourself into.”

“Yes, hyung, I promise,” Jungkook said, smiling as he got into his black truck, “I’ve got a date to get ready for.”

Jungkook knew what he was doing was morally wrong and it was probably a shame to know he was that kind of guy but he really did not care. From the moment he’d seen you he knew he had to have you. It wasn’t just the way you looked, it was about your almost shy glances that would catch his attention. The way you’d carry yourself when talking to others and how you walked with a little sway in your hips. Knowing you had a boyfriend had simply been a bump in the road and nothing more to him.

He had begun plotting on you since he realized he’d get to see you so often and he was not a patient man. He wasn’t going to wait for you to suddenly be single so he can have his chance, he planned on taking it and that’s what he did.

On days where he’s actually lucky, he wakes up with you at his side. He skips his morning workout when you stay in with him and he can imagine what it’d be like to see you all the time. Just that alone made his morals slip away so easily—that’s how he likes to think of it. It makes answering his friend’s judgments easier than acting bothered by the way things actually were.

Of course he’d prefer to have you all the time instead of just when you’re available but that wasn’t an option at the moment. He’s waited for you to get past the guilt and hoped you’d come to your senses and get the courage to leave your piece of shit boyfriend. Yes, Jungkook is greedy, makes bad decisions when it comes to who he chooses to involve himself with but who can blame him?

Those late night conversations where you listen to whatever he tells you about himself and he does the same for you made him a lot more… mushy than he cared to admit. Past girlfriends were fun while they lasted but he can’t remember feeling this… fluttery for them. It just didn’t compare and that’s why it’s such a pity he had to share your attention.

“What about this weekend?” He asked with a hand in your hair, massaging your temples nearly bringing you to sleep.

“Can’t,” you answered in a sluggish tone, snuggling into his naked chest, “I’m going to something with Eunbi. She met a guy.”

“Mm,” Jungkook didn’t care but asked for your sake, “Really? Do you know him?“

“No, I guess he’s a little bit older,” You told him, “She told me his name but I forgot.”

“And that’s on Saturday? What about Sunday?” He tried again.

“You know Sunday’s are when I see Minu,” You released a sigh, sliding off his arm a little and feeling him pull you back again.

“But all you guys will do is stay in and eat leftover pizza or something,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance.

“I like pizza,” You smiled, sensing his light jealous tone that amused you more than it should. It was like willingly playing with fire. Dangling a match over dry leaves and waiting for it to catch. As far as you’ve known, Jungkook is a very tame guy but there’s this spark in his eyes that shows a mischievous side—like the kind that joked about your boyfriend fighting him.

“I can get us pizza,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes trying to get you to relax against him more, “Baby, if that’s all you’re with him for then goddamn, why are you still with him?”

“Jungkook,” You said with a whine, hand on his chest as you pushed off him, “Don’t ask me such difficult questions.”

“Don’t think too hard, I’m just saying, I’d be a much better time on a lazy Sunday,” Jungkook forced a smile, pulling himself up on the pillows a little more when you sat up facing him.

You placed a manicured finger on his toned stomach, “You’re bad for me.”

“Oh, am I?” He chuckled, arm behind his head against the headboard, “I should be saying that about you. You want me but you’re with him, how shameless.”

You covered your ears instantly, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to tune him out but he just smiled and sat up, “It’s true, no need for theatrics.”

“Shh,” You groaned, unable to help the smile, “You’ll make me realize I’m a terrible person and put a stop to this right now.”

“You think I’ll let you?” He reached for you, arms around your waist until you were leaning against his front, “It’s going to take a lot to get rid of me now. You’ve already made the mistake of getting in bed with me tonight, I might just keep you here until the weekend starts and ends. Then he’ll really wonder who you’re with all the time. Or maybe I’ll tell him myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when he turned you over so your back hit the sheets and he hovered over you, throwing your bare legs around his waist, “Are you threatening me? Trying to use blackmail?”

“You think it’ll work?” He pressed his body into yours, feeling the way your figure fit against his so well. It was no wonder there was chemistry.

“What a terrible, awful guy to seduce someone in a relationship.”

“Mm,” Jungkook looked down at the curve of your lips and the softness in your cheeks with admiration. He nodded his head in agreement and felt your arms circle his neck anyway, “Try not to be so easily swooned.”

He waited to hear your annoyed scoff, laughing softly into your neck when he hugged you, pulling the sheets over both of your bodies, “Now go wash up because if I go with you we’re not leaving my apartment at all.”

He let you go with a displeased groan, hand touching down your back and watched you practically run to his bathroom and take some clothes off the dresser with you.

“Who is she seeing again?”

You looked at Minu with an irritated smile, trying to be happy about the fact he was joining you tonight. Despite how much Eunbi and Minu despise each other, she invited him too in hopes that he wouldn’t pick a fight with you about tonight.

Usually, when you and your boyfriend decide to go out with your friends you have a tendency to drift away from each other. He’d go with his friends and you’d go with yours. Very rarely did you two stick together but it seemed like tonight that was your only option.

“Jin,” You told him for the fourth time since you got to the packed bar, “He’s somewhere over there.”

He followed the lazy wave of your hand in the direction of Eunbi and stared off. Minu wasn’t usually shy or antisocial but of course he’s forced himself to tag along where he knows no one but you and now is pissed off about it.

“Let’s get one more drink and go home,” Minu said, making you glare up at him.

“I’m not leaving, we just got here,” You told him, “If you want to leave go ahead.”

“You don’t even know anyone here,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “You just want to get drunk. We can drink in my apartment, let’s go.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you tried to weigh out your options. If you leave, Eunbi might pop myget a little upset but she’ll get over it easily. She’s with her new man and is surely more worried about that. If you choose to stay, there’s a high chance you won’t hear the end of it. Minu won’t stop bitching until you leave and you’ll probably argue over something stupid. Ashamed to be defeated, you decided to compromise with him. “Fifteen more minutes and then we can leave.”

As surprising as it might seem, Jungkook had plans to spend his Saturday night with Bam couch rotting just at the thought that you’d be out having fun without him. Lately he’s realized he only has fun when he’s with you and when you’re not around he feels it more intensely.

He had no plans of stepping out of his apartment but when he got a call from one of his good friend’s asking what he was up to tonight, he just had to tag along. Seokjin wasn’t the type to go out anymore so it was a surprise to them all, especially announcing he was kind of seeing someone and when Jungkook asked for the name… well, it wasn’t hard for him to connect the dots.

You couldn’t remember the name of the guy Eunbi was seeing and it all worked out so easily. It’s times like this that Jungkook seriously thinks the universe wants something stronger to happen between you. If it didn’t, there’s no way you’d be connected this way too.

Admittedly, he arrived late because he went to pick up Namjoon but it didn’t seem like he’d missed anything more than a few rounds of drinks. He wasn’t here to drink anyway.

“So you know each other? I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask,” Jin asked him and Eunbi when she finally spotted them. Jungkook nodded with a polite smile, not sure what else he could do. He’s already losing hope when he couldn’t immediately see you right there next to her. Didn’t you come along just for her? Where were you?

“Y/n is here too! You know the trainer?” Eunbi had said to which he pretended to be surprised by the news and looked around, “She’s somewhere with her boyfriend. I’m sure she’ll come back around.”

Boyfriend? You brought your boyfriend and dint care to tell him? Maybe he’s being unreasonable considering he’s just the one you’re having an affair with but doesn’t he deserve at least a little knowledge? You’re usually more honest with him than the man you’ve been with for three years a so what’s your deal? Won’t you see Minu tomorrow? Why does he get to see you both Saturday and Sunday’s now?

“In the meantime, let’s drink,” Jin said to his group of friends, leading them toward the bar and Jungkook followed behind with Namjoon. He felt his eyes fall on him but he didn’t do anything, too stuck on why your boyfriend was here and what would happen when you see each other.

“So Y/n’s here too, just a coincidence, right?” Namjoon asked with a scowl, “I was wondering why you suddenly changed your mind about going out tonight.”

“Jin called and asked what I was doing, possibly seeing Y/n would just be a nice surprise,” Jungkook’s tone was as mischievous as the smile he forced on his face, “Come on hyung, I said I’d pay for the first round.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Namjoon said with a sigh, unable to hide the amusement of seeing how persistent Jungkook was. How… caught up he was with you. It was beginning to be entertaining despite if it was wrong or not.

Jungkook tried paying attention to his own friends but it didn’t take him long to find you on the other end of the bar. You stood next to a somewhat tall guy with a familiar face and his arm around your waist. You were too far for him to hear what the two of you were talking about to the group of guys you were now with but he could easily read your expression.

Even with a smile on your face it was obvious you didn’t care much about what any of them were talking about. Your boyfriend was the one doing most of the talking, happy and acting sweet with you which was the complete opposite of how you described him. There was a chance you were exaggerating how awful he was to Jungkook but he didn’t think that was likely. He can tell that whatever display of affection you were showing each other wasn’t real. There was no need for it to upset him but it did. When you’re with Jungkook he knows it's because you want to be. He never has to force you to smile or open up to him, you just do. Right now everything you do seems like an act and he’s not just saying that because he’s jealous.

“We might head to another bar soon, I don’t know I guess it depends how everyone is feeling. There’s a lot of us,” Jin said, looking around at the group that gathered. On one hand he had his own friends, Jungkook and Namjoon, Eunbi and her friends. It would be hard to have everyone talk so he had to bounce around. Right now he would like to take a break and talk with just Jungkook and Namjoon, “So what’s up with you guys?”

“Me, nothing much just working at the shop, how about you, Jungkook? Does Jin know you’re seeing someone?” Namjoon said with a smug expression that had Jungkook glaring at him. He just smirked, a laugh threatening to slip as he watched Jungkook think of a response.

“You’re dating someone? You dog, once you got back from the army you kept going on about not jumping into a relationship and look at you now. A few months out and you’ve already gotten a girl,” Jin teased, “Why didn’t you bring her out tonight?”

“I’m sure she’s somewhere,” Namjoon said with a clear throat making Jungkook nudge his arm. Jin looked at the two of them and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I need a shot.”

“I’m gonna go with him, are you coming or … ?” Namjoon asked him, question dying on his tongue when he followed Jungkook’s line of sight. His tongue poked against his cheek trying not to tense his jaw but it was obvious he saw something he didn’t like.

You still haven't noticed Jungkook watching as you let Minu press a kiss to your lips. It didn’t even matter to him that you slightly pulled back, he was annoyed enough just by watching it happen. It must have been some parting kiss because you tugged Minu’s arm off your waist and began walking away. Jungkook didn’t think twice about going after you.

“Eunbi,” You had to shout over the loud music once you found your friend, “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Okay!” She shouted back, smiling giddily and drunk so you began to walk away when she tugged you back, “Oh! We might go somewhere else, I think Jin is asking his friends. Did you know Jungkook is here?!”

“Jungkook?” Your brows furrowed looking at her with a confused expression. Play it cool, you thought.

“Yeah, gym Jungkook. Apparently he’s friends with Jin,” Eunbi said looking around before she said, “Anyways, I’ll text you if we do go.”

“Okay… Minu might want to uh—“ You blinked in thought, looking around anxiously, “Tae-oh came and one of his other friends so he might want to stay.”

You need to make sure you don’t run into Jungkook. “I’ll be back.”

You weren’t too familiar with the club you were at tonight but that didn’t stop you going off on your own. Minu was busy with his friends and Eunbi was with Jin. Plus, you needed a moment to yourself so you can wrap your mind around what your friend just said.

Jungkook lost you for a second but found you again when you turned a corner. The hall light was a deep green that casted unnatural shadows where people should be. The music was muffled and there was security at the front of the hall but they didn’t seem to be paying attention too much. He gave them one last look to make sure they weren’t giving him to much focus and before he knew it, he was pushing the door for the restroom open.

You leaned against the stall door, biting your nail anxiously as you debated texting Jungkook or not. You wanted to know if he was really here.

“Y/n.”

Your heart sank down your chest, when he said, “It’s me.”

Something was telling you not to open the door. Thankfully this restroom was a maze to get to so it didn’t have much traffic because there’s no way he would’ve been able to just walk in. You shut your eyes in thought, hand reaching for the handle to unlock it and the second you did, he came in.

“What are you doing here?” You rushed to ask when he pushed you back into a stall, hands cupping your face as he didn’t think twice to press his lips to yours in a heated, well-awaited kiss. You ignored the moral conscience telling you to push him away—it wasn’t the right time or place to be doing anything like this but you couldn’t help it. Your arms circled around his neck, making him dip his head lower and angle to the side to deepen the kiss. Your back hit the stall wall making you squeal in surprise but the sound was muffled with his tongue.

“Wait,” You sighed, putting your hand on his chest to try and put space between you, “Koo-“

”Just a little more,” He whispered, lips trailing down toward your jaw, threatening to suck on the skin and create a love bite but this time you pushed him back with more force.

“How’d you know I was here?” You asked, wiping the smeared lip gloss off your lips while Jungkook just locked it off his own. His shoulders rose in a shrug, “Apparently we know the same people.”

He pretended like he hadn’t figured that out earlier and you didn’t tell him how Eunbi just let you know too. Still, you didn’t think he’d actually come looking for you. You don’t know if he’s seen Minu but you’d prefer if they don’t run into each other at all. Thankfully, Minu doesn’t know anything about Jungkook [why would he?], but you can't remember if Jungkook knows how to spot Minu.

“I’m here with—“ “I know,” Jungkook cut you off almost bitterly, looking down at you with a dark gaze that had you awfully aware of how small the stall was when there were two people in it. The music from outside was nearly turned out completely ad it felt like everyone else was on a different planet than you but you knew Minu would wonder where you were soon. If not him, his friends would ask him where you were. Just before you could tell him, you needed to go back out, there was a knock on the restroom door. It was a public place and if someone was looking to use it, they wouldn’t have knocked…

You bit your lip nervously, waiting to see if they’d knock again but this time they spoke, “Y/n?”

You looked at each other with mixed expressions as the truth hit you. Minu was the one trying to get you to come out. You pushed past Jungkook to get the door open but he wouldn’t budge, ‘Jungkook,” you huffed, getting him to move aside so you can leave but he was right behind you.

Your boyfriend knocked again, this time sounding more impatient and you turned to Jungkook, “Can I just text you once I’m gone?”

His brows furrowed, “What? Ju tell him righ—“ “Please,” You begged and with a sigh, he nodded his head. You gave yourself a quick look to make sure you didn’t look bad and immediately sighed when you spotted the red bruise Jungkook put on your neck, using your hair to cover it, you opened the door wide enough for you to slip out.

”What took you so long?” Minu asked, standing right at the door and trying to stare in but you tried blocking it.

“I was fixing my makeup,” You lied, trying to get him to walk away, “What’s up?”

”I heard you talking to someone,” He pointed at the closed door and you prayed Jungkook wouldn’t decide to come out now. “I was fixing my makeup,” You said once more but it was obvious Minu didn’t believe you. Usually he’s clueless about anything that has to deal with you so it was strange how adamant he was to stick around.

‘It still looks like shit,” He muttered under his breath, half tempted to swing the door open and see for himself. He wasn’t as dumb as you thought he was. You’ve been gone for a while and he swears he heard a guy’s voice just now. Plus, you were acting strangely, “Where’s your bag?”

Shit…

Jungkook stood with his ear pressed to the door and looked into the stall you once were. Thinking quickly he grabbed the mini bag just as Minu said, “Go get it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut with worry, bracing yourself to go back in while still making sure Jungkook wasn’t seen but your efforts were useless. Minu looked in far enough to watch a tattooed hand pass you your bag. Someone was hiding there.

Your breath caught in your throat when you went back out, noticing how close Minu was to you now and it told you everything you needed to know. He was onto you and the last thing you needed was him to storm in and confront Jungkook while all your friends are out there waiting. How stupid could you be? You should’ve never answered Jungkook when he stood outside.

“Let’s go,” His tone was sharp and unusual/ it was obvious he was mad but he was also too calm for your liking and that almost scared you more. Usually he doesn’t bite back from telling you how he feels. Yes, at times he can be too dismissive but when it comes to how he feels, he never holds back. That’s why it’s strange for him to not say anything.

“Min—“ You tried to call for him but he was already a few steps ahead of you, wa;Kim out of the hall and back to the crowded bar. He barely gave you time to react when he took your hand in his and forced a smile on his face as he told his friends the two of you were calling it a night. He made some excuse about you drinking too much and when you tried looking for Eunbi, he didn’t let you go and dragged you to the car.

He refused to speak to you for the first couple minutes in the car, your leg bounced with anxiety and you bit your nails nervously waiting for him to speak up.

“I can’t believe you’d fucking embarrass me like that,” Was the first thing he said after five agonizing minutes in dead silence. “In front of my friends? In front of your friends? What were you thinking?”

So does he know? You can't exactly tell since he’s not yelling at you over it yet.

“I’m out here looking like an idiot trying to find you and you’re being a slut with another guy. Are you stupid? How am I gonna face my friends? I just don’t get why you’d do this to me. I treat you so well, I love you so much and you were willing to risk what we have for some random guy?” It took you a second to understand what he was mad about. Was it just that he caught you with someone? Was it that you did it somewhere where his friends were also? Did he feel like you weren't grateful for whatever imaginary things he’s done for you? He has a right to be upset but what reason was he going to use and why were his friends brought up into everything?

It was time for you to just be honest, or as much as he’d let you be anyway, “He’s not just some… I’m sorry, okay? I’m stupid and shameless and I know there’s not anything I can say right now to fix what I fucked up.”

All Minu could do in response is scoff and shake his head. He went back to not speaking to you and you decided it’d be better to just wait until he was ready. He’s being too calm but you rather have him like that than yelling in your face in a moving car. You were sur[rised when he still chose to take you back to his place like originally planned but you understood why. He probably wanted you to speak up now, “Minu…”

“No, Y/n, I can’t even look at you right now. Why would you do that to me? After three years, you just… you try and throw it all away, why? I don’t even care who that guy is, all I want to know is why you’d do that,” Minu said, finally being more open to talking but you can tell he was barely holding his anger at bay.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, following him toward his bedroom as he began to rip off his jacket.

“Yes you do so can you just be honest with me for once and say it,” Minusaid and that’s when you started to feel a little confused. You were always honest with him, if anything this was the first time you’ve ever lied to him but it’s obvious why. You wanted to see other people behind his back but still have him around. You even tried telling him immediately the first night but couldn't bring yourself to tell him after how he acted that night. When you asked to have dinner so you can try again, he brushed you off, so what did he mean ‘be honest for once’?

“I don’t know,” You said again, “I just… he’s not like you. I don’t have to beg him for attention or fight with him about every little thing.”

You knew it was the wrong thing to say after you said but it was too late to take it back. He heard you clearly and whipped back to look at you, “So it’s my fault then?”

Shaking your head no, you tried to deny it, “That’s not what I’m saying—“

He stood near his desk, arm swinging across the top until a sack of old books fell to the floor along with a picture of you he had on his laptop. You didn’t bother to jump as you get a sense of familiarity. This is the guy you knew, this was your boyfriend—the one who gets mad and starts throwing things. It’s been a while since you’ve last seen him like this but hats because you’ve been avoiding him. He shook his head in disbelief and said, “Well I’m sorry we fight Y/n, all couples do. I didn’t realize that wasn’t fucking normal. I’m sorry that I’m busy and can’t pay every second of attention that you deserve. You want a guy like that? He’s what you want? I can’t give you what you want so you go to the next person that does? I could’ve slept with someone else since you won’t have sex with me anymore. You should’ve let me know and then we both could’ve been assholes.”

You sat on his bed, ;eating him keep going because you couldn’t think of anything else to say. You didn’t want to fight for forgiveness or beg him to take you back because clearly.

Once he stopped pacing back and forth, you tried again to speak, “I’m not saying what I did was right but I think it’s crazy that suddenly you’re this perfect boyfriend that didn’t deserve anything bad but what you’re saying is not true. You seriously think things were good between us?”

Minu had the decency and awareness to shake his head, “No but I was trying. I’ve been trying, that’s why I came with you tonigh—“

You stood up, feeling your patience run thin as you looked at your boyfriend, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t sit here and talk in circles with you like we always do about who treats who worse and who puts in more effort than the other. Neither one of us have been good to each other but I’m taking full blame for betraying you, if you want to break—“

“Are you stupid? I don’t want to break up!” He yelled, “I want you to sound like you mean it when you apologize. What are you even thinking? You think that guy gives a fuck about you? You want to end it with me so you can go be with him?” Minu asked, standing directly in front of you now, pushing on your shoulder, “You seriously think he’s what you want? After everything we’ve been through? You’re so ungrateful.”

“Hello? You can’t hear me or something? I said, you’re ungrateful,” he pushed you one last time, “Now that you found something better you want to leave me behind? No.”

“No?” You looked at him with disbelief. He didn’t want to break up. Not to mention he thinks you’re ungrateful. He thinks he does so much for you and it’s actually insane. “I’m ungrateful? I literally do everything for you and have you ever even noticed?”

“Don’t start Y/n,” he shook his head, “Stop trying to turn this o—“

“I’m not!” You told him angrily, “I said I was sorry, I don’t know what else you want me to do! It happened, I fucked yo and you still want to be together. Why? Just so you can hold it against me and keep being the way you are?”

“The way I am? I’m so sick and tired of your bullshit. You think you’re so much better than me at everything. You hate my friends, you hate that I don’t make as much as you do. You hate me.”

You sighed, “I d-don’t hate you. I just… I can’t anymore, do you know how hard it is to be with someone you don’t… I don't know… you don’t feel the same for? A—and I did it all wrong, if I knew I felt this way I should’ve just ended it sooner—“

“With who? With me? Why? Why can’t we just work through it? Do you really want to start over with someone else?” He looked at you with hatred in his eyes and it pissed him off. This is not how it’s supposed to be between you two. You both knew early on you were together because it felt… well, no, it didn’t feel right… but it felt comfortable? You didn’t ask much of each other and never did anything to move forward but he thought it was alright. Sure, he might’ve gotten lazy at times but what did he do that was so wrong you’d try and find comfort in someone else?

“I don’t,” You admitted with a sigh, “But I don’t want to be with you anymore. Call me selfish, clearly I am but I don’t want to be with you and have you constantly remind me how I messed up. I don’t want to keep putting up with the same routine because to be honest… I’m tired too. I’m tired of feeling less important than everything else in your life, Min. Hell, on days I really wanted you around you were too busy playing Minecraft. How do you think that made me feel? Like I said, I’m not making excuses I just… I don’t want to keep pretending to be happy with you.”

Minu didn’t say anything and you wondered how much he actually bothered to listen to. You just wanted him to understand there was no going back to before. He wouldn’t be happy. “You walked in on me with someone else and you couldn’t think of anything worse than embarrassing yourself in front of your friends.”

He scoffed, not denying what you said but not agreeing. It wasn’t like that exactly; he doesn’t think. His friends knew you well, they knew your relationship well and sure they also knew you fought but Minu doesn’t pretend for them… he’s not insecure like that… It’s just, well, he wants them to think he’s in a happy relationship because it makes it look like he has his shit together. You were always perfect for making him look good so of course he didn’t want them to see him out of character. It took him a second to realize there were a few tears in your eyes and it disgusted him—something he could finally admit, “Stop crying. You fucked everything up.”

Fine. You’ll take it. If he wants to yell at you more and just let it all out you’ll let him as long as it all just stops. If there be a point where it stops and you can be done. Your silence annoyed him more than your crying did and he couldn’t look at you anymore. You wanted to be done with him, fine, he doesn’t care, “Get out then.”

Your best option would’ve been to call a cab and wait at the front of the building but the thought of being anywhere near him had you walking into the night with tears down your face.

Jungkook prepared for this, alright? He wasn’t just some crazy guy who thinks everything would work out just fine. He knew you being in a relationship made things hard but maybe he didn’t plan ahead enough. He was too impatient to wait and he got with you as fast as he could. It was that easy, so why is it now… now that your boyfriend knows about him… why haven’t you called him back?

It’s been days and you haven’t responded to his texts or calls. He just wants to make sure you’re fine so why won’t you talk to him? It was beginning to bother him a little.

“Namjoon told me about what happened the other night,” Taehyung said as they found a spot to park for the gym. A mischievous smile appeared on his face, “Was he better looking than you?”

Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s question. The guy was no competition at all so why are you bothering to ignore him instead? He can’t understand. Taehyung raised a curious brow as he watched his best friend just leave the truck without him. Sensitive topic, he wondered, following him into the gym.

“Is Y/n here?” Jungkook asked immediately. Hoseok was alone at the front for once and he didn’t care to get to know him at all. It’s been a few days since what happened over the weekend and hasn’t been able to see you. He has seen you at the gym but you’re out close enough or ever alone for him to approach you. It felt like you were avoiding him but why would you? What has he done wrong?

”I think she finished early today,” Hoseok said with a shrug. He’s been alone for a few hours now since Eunbi left with you and he’s got no clue what’s going on with you and Minu. Hosek’s gotten some of the story but not all of it. All he knows at the moment is that the two of you aren’t dating. Eunbi’s been trying to fish more out of you but he doesn’t know if she’s succeeded. It was a little strange that one of the regulars was asking for you. Jungkook doesn’t like one of your usual clients so why was he asking for you? Before Hoseok could even think to ask why, Jungkook as turning to his friend with a tense expression and stormed back out. Taehyung stood there confused, knowing exactly where Jungkook would go but kind of wishing he wouldn’t. He could’ve done more to keep him from leaving but was it worth it?

All the years he’s known Jungkook, he’s never kept himself from going after what he wants and he’s been more stuck on you more than anything at the moment. He doesn’t remember the last time he found him caught up on someone like this, or has gone as far as to ruin someone’s relationship but he’s done nothing aside from standing back and watching it all unfold.

You walked around the shop mindlessly, not looking at anything specific and barely listening to whatever comforting words Eunbi was trying to tell you. It didn’t work but you didn’t have the heart to tell her that.

“I mean, I feel like you both knew you were barely keeping the relationship going,” She tried saying. It didn’t help that you haven’t been fully honest with her either but at this point you don’t care. Yes, its being selfish but you didn’t end another person reminding you how shirt you are for messing with Jungkook. It didn’t help that he’s been trying to reach out to you and the smart idea would be to block him but you just can’t.its even worse toad it you miss him more than your now ex boyfriend.

“Are you going to try that on?” You asked, hoping to change the subject. She wanted you to come shopping with her so you wouldn’t lock yourself at home but right now you would prefer doing that instead. She looked down at the small pile of clothes in her hands and nodded, telling you she was going to the fitting room and left you alone to keep going through the racks. From your back pocket, you felt your phone vibrate and curiously you checked. When Jungkook’s name appeared on screen, you put your phone back away and tried to think about him. That was after the first ring, the second and third were harder to avoid.

“Hello?”

”Hey,” Jungkook let out a breath of fresh air once heard your voice on the other end, “I've been trying to call you…”

”I know, its been a weird lately few days,” You bit your lip in thought, looking toward the fitting room to see if Eunbi would be out soon, “Can I come over late? I think we should talk.”

Part of him wondered why your tone sounded off but he tried to remind himself what happened. Clearly you’re not with your boyfriend anymore and you need someone to talk to. Maybe you’ve realized he’s the only person you can open up to. A small smile adorned his features as he thought about seeing you. It hasn’t even been an entire week before he last saw you and it feels like its been forever. When he got home that evening, he didn’t bother telling Taehyung why he never went back and his friend never questioned it either. He waited around for you, cleaned his place, got dressed up for you and everything but when you knocked on his door, he nearly pulled you into his arms.

”I’ve got something in the oven, you haven’t eaten right?” He asked, letting you follow him inside trying to sound as relaxed as possible even when his heart was racing. You didn’t say anything, letting Bam run up to you to get a pet and you fed into it.

“I ate with Eunbi,” You told him honestly, “And I don’t think i'll stay long, to be honest.”

”Why?” He asked with a raised brow, “I thought you wanted to talk.”

you stood in his living room, still wearing your coat and holding your bag as if you were ready to leave any second and he didn’t like that. Were you planning on leaving already? You just got here, he’s barely had a chance to see you. You looked at him once he came back from the kitchen, turning off the oven since his dinner plans were cancelled and feeling annoyed by it. “What happened the other night..”

He let out a sigh, feeling a sense of deja vu to the time he found you in the saunas, “It’s fine.”

”It’s not, I’m serious this time,” You said, trying to sound firm but you knew Jungkook wouldn’t care. He’d find a way to disarm your hostility and get you in his arms again. Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “You haven’t ended it with him?”

“I did,” You said, “But obviously that doesn’t make everything alright. I still did something wrong and i hurt him—“

”And? You didn’t care when you and I were in bed together or when you would leave him to go see me,” Jungkook asked, stepping closer to you, “If he didn’t catch us when would you have told him? if you’re done with him i don’t get why you’re still playing hard to get.”

“You think I’m playing hard to get?” You asked, taken by surprise, “That’s crazy.”

“Well how else can you explain why you’re trying to push me away now?” He asked, getting closer and this time you backed away. With a small roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest and too him, “Why do you think?”

“Because its not fun for you anymore? Did it finally hit you how wrong it was because we’ve been doing this for how long now? Stop acting surprised that shit didn’t end well, you were sleeping with a whole other man knowing you had a boyfriend. Plus he treated you like shit,” Jungkook felt the need to remind you and it was getting hard to ignore his condescending tone. You didn’t expect him to baby you or tell you you’ve done nothing wrong but it wasn’t entirely your fault. He’s the one who kept going after you even when he knew you were in a relationship.

When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you closely, “Are you guys going to try and get back together?”

“No.”

”But you want to?” He asked, pushing for a response you didn’t want to give him. At this point you didn’t think he deserved to know either. The only reason why you’re trying to end things with him is because its too hard to ignore how wrong it was for you to involve yourself with him in the first place.

“No, but i also don’t think that means I should be with you,” You finally confessed. He didn’t say anything for a minute, staring down at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Usually, when Minu got quiet in the middle of a disagreement that meant he was going to get more aggressive. It usually involves throwing something or hitting furniture but Jungkook wasn’t doing any of that. Maybe he realized you weren't worth the fight and it kind of hurt you but he would be right. You weren't worth fussing over anymore, you think.

Plus, how likely would a relationship with Jungkook work? The way it started was built on disloyalty, what did he expect? Sure, he probably felt used but what else can you do? Nothing you say could change if he felt that way.

“I should go,” You tried to say, ignoring the scoff he let out. It’s obvious he was mad which was strange considering you’ve never been in a situation where Jungkook has to be mad at you but that’s whats happening right now.

His jaw tense with irritation, watching as you looked toward the door, getting ready to leave. That was it for you apparently. You said what you had to say and now you’re done with him. You’re trying to throw him away and clean your hands of all wrongdoings. This entire time he kept telling himself that he was different, that you really would realize he’s better and not think twice about choosing him but that isn’t the case at all. You want to rid yourself of both of them and it didn’t sit right with him.

His body moved before he could think about it clearly and grabbed you by your wrist, making you jerk back to him. His nails sunk into the skin making you wince, trying to pull yourself free and it took him a moment to realize he was actually hurting you. He let go of you quickly, shaking his head as if trying to clear his head and put some space between you. You looked at him with shock, trying to soothe the pain, “I’ll call you?”

It was probably not the best thing to say but you dumbly said it. He did seem to relax when you said but you weren't sure if he fully believed you or not. Maybe he was just happy you weren't mad about the way he just grabbed you suddenly.

He felt frozen in place, even after you left. It was a new feeling for him, this sense of being thrown away.

To be honest, this is not how he expected things to turn out. Yes, he knew he was getting into a big mess if he went for you knowing you had a boyfriend but at the moment he didn’t care—he still didn’t. He just thought that once he’d have you, you’d see that you don’t need another guy to waste your time. He tried waiting patiently for you to break up with that guy and after a while maybe he couldn’t take it anymore.

It was seeing you at the bar with your so-called boyfriend pretending to be happy that pushed him over the edge. Why did he have to see you being kissed by someone else? He’s the one you run to at night so was he second to you? He knows your ex did you wrong many times but what about you? How good of a girlfriend were you when you were fucking Jungkook behind his back?

Since you’ve lost your boyfriend you want to pretend nothing ever happened with Jungkook and that really does annoy him. Did you push away so you can hopefully get Minu back? Is that what this is? He refuses to believe you’re done with him just cause. There has to be a reason and he doesn’t want to hear that it was a mistake. If it was a mistake it wouldn’t have gone on for so long.

Fuck, right now he sort of hates you. Is that bad? He swears he wants you, he loves you and wants you to only think about him but you’re so stupidly selfish. You knew how he felt about you and you used that against him in some way. He was your dirty secret and in the moment it was fine but now that he’s alone it pisses him off.

The smart thing to do would be to move on. If he just puts what happened with you aside then he can move on. Maybe he’ll find someone he feels for him the way he does for them. Maybe he’ll take some time to himself. Who knows, all he has to do is stop thinking about you but it was so damn hard.

All Jungkook wanted to do was talk to you but he wasn’t allowing himself to. It’s been a couple days since you showed up on his doorstep and it’s taking everything in him to not reach out to you. You said your piece the other night and he should just respect it. That’s what he keeps saying in his head every time he catches a glimpse of you at the gym or when his finger hovers over your contact in his phone.

At that point his friends caught on to the fact that this bothered him more than he could admit. Namjoon would catch him anxiously checking his phone at work or getting irritated much easier. Taehyung couldn’t hold a conversation anymore without Jungkook sounding bored. He wasn’t interested in anything and he looked tired all the time.

“Just one drink Kook,” Taehyung said as the two packed their things in the locker room.

“No thanks,” Jungkook slammed his locker shut, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out. Today you were at the front desk looking over something on one of the computers and it hurt him to know you wouldn’t look up at him once.

He didn’t bother acknowledging Eunbi when she said goodbye and Taehyung felt lowered after you without a word. As Jungkook’s friend, he feels the need to be on his side. Clearly he knew all along that Jungkook was messing around with you and that it was wrong but it’s not all Jungkook’s fault. It’s mainly yours, he thinks, and if anything he’s annoyed you have his friend worked up. He doesn’t care talking to you until Jungkook is over his shitty mood and this could all blow over.

“Is it just me or do they just not talk anymore?” Eunbi asked absentmindedly, leaning back against the counter as she stared after the two, “It’s weird, Jin said he’s good friends with them so you think they’d be nicer to me in case we run into each other, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed quietly, looking out the large windows of the gym front and watching them leave. You felt your chest tighten when you locked eyes with Jungkook, turning to look back at you and catching you staring. Eunbi narrowed her eyes as you shifted your head to look down, pretending to be focused on your schedule book. When she looked at Jungkook he was getting into his truck.

“So you still haven’t talked with Minu?” Eunbi asked curiously, “I mean good, I didn’t think the two of you would ever actually break up but clearly it needed to happen. You know what we need, a girls night out where you can just let loose and not worry about him getting mad at you.”

“I don’t think so,” You said with a smile. She frowned, glancing away in thought, “Honestly, I thought you’d be more relieved to be single but lately you’ve been so quiet about it. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,” You let out a sigh, “There’s not really anything to say. We’re not together anymore.”

“Hm,” Eunbi sounded dissatisfied but it’s all you could think of. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to be more involved in your clusterfuck of a life.

When you got home that night you had an odd sense of being watched. It wasn’t strong but uncomfortable at least. You couldn’t even explain it properly but it made you feel uneasy. It sort of opened your eyes to how vulnerable you’ve become. You got so used to Minu’s cold demeanor with you that nights alone weren’t a problem. Then Jungkook came along and every time he’d be at your side. Did you love him? Was it more than just you trying to find comfort in someone else? It was crazy to think you missed Jungkook more than the guy you dated for three years.

He thought about trying to talk to you but couldn’t bring himself to knock on your door. Instead he found himself calling Taehyung and taking him up on his offer earlier.

All he could think about though is how he could get you back. He worried you were still talking to your ex and that’s why you pushed him away. He wondered if you’d ever look at him again or if you’ll wait till his back is turned. You were still the only thing on his mind when he drank the feelings away.

“Alright, I gotta get going or I’m gonna be late.”

The shop was nearly empty when Namjoon decided to leave Jungkook to work alone tonight. He had plans and all Jungkook had for the night was crawling into bed and going to sleep. He cancelled his evening gym session with Taehyung in favor of working longer and avoiding you. He doesn’t want to but it’s for the best. You’re making it hard for him not to go find you. He wants to be patient and bide his time but how much longer will it take?

All he could think about as he worked alone past the sun setting was what you were doing. Who were you with? Who were you talking to or thinking about? Was he on your mind at all? You can't seriously avoid him for that much longer, right?

Some song played loudly through the speaker set aside, he nearly missed the sound of the doorbell chiming. Since business is extremely slow at this time of night, he usually just cleans up and tries to figure out what he has to do the next day. He didn’t at all expect anyone to make their way into the shop at this hour. The irony, however, of how things really worked. It took him a second to really notice who was standing in front of him with an impatient smile. “You’re open, right?”

“What can I do for you?” Jungkook stood at the desk in the lobby, looking at the guy with a blank expression. The guy got distracted by something on his phone so when he spoke next, he didn’t look up to talk. It gave Jungkook an opportunity to get a good look at him. It was the same face, same height he’s seen in pictures. His voice sounded the same from the phone calls and the other night. Was this really who thinks it is? No, there’s just no way this is a coincidence.

“An oil change,” He said plainly, pressing the phone to his ear and looking back at Jungkook.

“Alright,” his jaw tended created a small bulge in his cheek as he tried to ignore the guy’s tone, “Model and year?”

“Hey, you called? Sorry, I had to run errand after work,” The guy suddenly said on the phone and this time he couldn’t resist rolling his eyes.

Between whatever he said on the phone, he filled in Jungkook’s questions so that the paperwork could be filed.

“Sign your name and date and I’ll get started,” Jungkook told him, sliding the clipboard across the counter and watching him do as told.

“How long will it take?” He asked, Jungkook read the name he put and felt his breath hitch. Choi Minu.

“Half hour?” Jungkook looked up, gave him a polite smile and made his way out of the lobby so he can go to the garage and see what car was parked outside its door.

This piece of shit car lines up with the kind of guy who drives it. Muttered curse words slipped from his lips as he got to work. Would it be terrible of him to admit how much he hates the guy? Technically speaking, he never did anything to Jungkook. He is the one who put himself in a situation where he had to deal with Mimi’s type. The stuck up, shitty, insecure man who takes out his problems on his girlfriend—or at least that’s how Jungkook sees him. He was rude as fuck at the counter and he was rude that night he caught you. It sounds unreasonable to an extent sure, but Jungkook thinks he got what he deserved with you.

If he treated you better then Jungkook wouldn’t have had to step up.

He hated this guy. Hated him.

All these thoughts ran through his head as he laid under the car with a flashlight to his side trying to get the oil emptied out. His eyes wandered over other familiar mechanics and grimaced at the dust collected around everything. His wrench made a sound every time they touched metal and he wondered how often you were driven around in this car. You complained once about how Minu always asked to borrow your car so clearly you didn’t get in it as much. Plus, Jungkook’s truck was so spacious and you loved it when he drove you around, even said it yourself so he can’t imagine you being comfortable with Minu and the shit he had to offer you.

Curiously he looked to the wheels on either side of his head, an idea in his head that was half tempted to try if he was a little less… aware of what could happen. He’s never been the kind of guy to pull off such risks. Without meaning to, he tapped against the master cylinder and shook the thought away, trying to focus on the oil change.

“We’ve been having problems for a while but it’s not like us to not be together, yknow?” Minu said with a strained voice as he spoke on the phone still. Jungkook walked in, unnoticed, and pretended to ignore the conversation. In reality his heart was racing, wondering if he was hearing something about you.

“You know how Y/n gets, Rowoon, when she’s in her mood she doesn’t want anything talking to her. I promise we’re fine,” Minu walked toward the front desk, clueless to his surroundings, “How much?”

When he finally spoke to Jungkook, he was pulling his wallet out to pay. He told him the price and managed to say, “Cash only,” before he tried handing him a credit card.

Minu rolled his eyes and flipped the other of his wallet to grab cash, all while still on the phone, “Alright, imma let you go. Are we still on for Saturday? Yeah, see you then.”

With a sigh, Minu was relieved to see he had enough on him. Usually paying with a card isn’t a problem so it was strange that they only accepted cash but he didn’t question it. He just wants to go home and get on a game.

He extended his hand out with the money, looking at the mechanic finally before looking down at his hand when he took the cash. His body stiffened, “Nice tattoos. Where do you go?”

“A shop somewhere around here,” Jungkook with a shrug, rolling the sleeve of his shirt up, a small smirk stretching his lips as he watched Minu’s gaze harden.

Where could he have seen this exact pattern of tattoos? Surely they weren’t so common but they seemed so oddly familiar. Minu nodded his head, getting a better look at Jungkook. He’s never met him before but he swears he’s seen those tattoos somewhere before.

“You’re all set to go,” Jungkook said, clutching the clipboard with Minu’s forms to his abdomen, “Drive safe.”

Minu nodded, taking his keys and turning his back on him. As he passed by the communications board on the wall, he found a few business flyers and he couldn’t help but concentrate on a familiar business card. It was for a gym somewhat far from here and Minu knew then something was up. The gym you worked at wasn’t popular enough to be here and how it would get promo over here? He looked back at the mechanic who had the audacity to wave him goodbye, a real smile on his face as he watched him leave.

Once he was alone in the shop, his hands trembled with discomfort, hearing the engine come to life and Minu drove off without a care. Never in his life has he had to restrain himself from putting his hands on another. It was from how arrogant Minu was as and how confident he was that everything was going to be alright. That’s how he is, just think of how he pretended the two of you were wildly in love in front of his friends. How he refused to confront Jungkook the night it all happened. Jungkook had been just a door away yet Minu was a coward and took you home instead. The guy was a joke.

He grabbed his cellphone and went into his boss’s private office looking for a wired telephone. He pulled up your contact and dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me—before you hang up, I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Jungkook rushed, “I know I only made things worse in your relationship and never really cared to know how you really felt. I have feelings for you and I don’t think they’ll go away that fast but if you never want to talk to me again I get it. I just had to hear you one last time.”

His words were rushed and almost incoherent but you were able to get the gist of what he was saying. Was this his goodbye though? He just apologized and told you he had feelings for you all while also making it seem like you’ll never speak to each other again. That’s what you wanted though, right? You wanted space from him, so why did it bother you that he was making it sound like he was done with you too?

“What are you doing right now?” You asked him curiously, trying not to think about everything he just said. You needed to hear him say this in person.

He looked around the empty shop, “At work but I’ll be off soon.”

“Can you come over?”

Just like that, his miserable mood after seeing your ex boyfriend at his work. He had been anxious to talk to you after Minu left and it brought a smile to his face knowing you wanted to see him. It’s stupid how weak he was for you. You push him away and he waits for you to pull him back in. You keep him a secret but crave his attention at the same time.

“Jungkook?” He heard your voice call his name from the front or the apartment. He took his shoes off and put them at the door, hanging his jacket where he usually does and headed down the familiar hallway.

“Sorry it took me a while, I had to close by myself tonight,” Jungkook cleared his throat, finding you in your bedroom, seemingly changed into casual clothes, “Did my call bother you?”

“Sort of,” you crossed your arms over your chest, closing yourself off from him when he got closer. Seeing you do that made him stop; looking down at you with a confused expression.

“I don’t get you,” You admitted, feeling his hands on your forearm, trying to get yourself to open up to him, “At first I thought you just wanted to mess around and that you didn’t actually care about me, yknow? Then when I told you I had a boyfriend you talked to me so… bluntly and tried to write it off like some sort of joke but then we spent more time together and I wanted it to work between us.”

He wanted to tell you that it was working between you but he had your arms open and was able to move closer. “I know I’m being unfair because I was the one in the wrong to begin with but I don’t like how you sounded on the phone—like you were done with me or something.”

His lips turned downward in a small pout, “I thought that’s what you wanted to hear. You were avoiding me and ignoring my calls, it hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so dumb,” you tried to turn away from him but he held you closely, “I’m so fucked up, Jungkook and I don’t have anyone to talk to right now because all my friends think Minu and I broke up because he was the problem and not me and I’m not bold enough to tell them I cheated an—“

“Shh,” he tucked hair behind your ears, “Didn’t I say I would be here for you? You’re not dumb, we made a mistake.”

It was strange yet comforting to hear him say that after telling you over and over again how it was never a mistake. You let him hug you and even brought your arms around him too, relaxing into his hold.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, this time with your voice shaking and closing your eyes to stop you from crying. It’s your own fault you’re so close to spiraling out of control and you refuse to let anyone else know. Eunbi would look at you differently, Ara wouldn’t want you around anymore and Hoseok… well, who knows. You messed around with someone at your workplace and ruined your relationship all in one go. It’s a lot to face and Jungkook shouldn’t be comforting you because you’ve been very tense with him too but he seems to be the only one who ever makes you feel better.

“It’s the weekend, right? How about we just spend it together and we’ll do whatever you want baby,” Jungkook pulled away, “Yeah?”

Your brows furrowed, wondering why he wasn’t more upset with you after everything but you nodded your head. You’ve never spent a full weekend with him before and right now it’s all you want to do, “I want to see Bam.”

He smiled warmly, “Do you want to come to my place instead?”

Something about the way the light of the moon peeked through the blinds and how the arm around your waist held you possessively made waking up feel like deja vu. Of course at this point you’ve spent the night in Jungkook’s bed many times but it reminded you specifically of the first. How confused and shocked you were to see him asleep beside you. Once again, you've found yourself with him between dusk and dawn trying to figure out what you were doing.

You looked at the nightstand to your side and reached for your cell phone. The sleeping body next to yours seemed to move closer, trying to pull you back down and you tried to be quiet as you took your phone and looked at it.

“Baby, do you know what time it is?” Jungkook groaned in his sleep. It didn’t take him any time to adjust to being with you again and it was truly mind boggling to know that. It’s like he really was just waiting around for you to want him back.

“I know but I have to go to the bathroom,” You told him, shaking his arm off and getting out of bed. He didn’t question it when you locked yourself in the bathroom and finally paid attention to everything on your phone.

Six missed calls.

This many missed calls from an unknown number was alarming and you felt the need to figure out what was going on. It wasn barely three in the morning, what could have happened from now and the moment you got in bed with Jungkook?

“Y/n, it’s me Rowoon,” A guy said through the phone the second the call went through, “I’ve been trying to contact you all night.”

Your brows furrowed, why would Minu’s best friend be calling you?

“Look, I know you guys aren’t together right now but he needs you right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, whispering so Jungkook wouldn’t hear.

“I’m at the hospital, Mimi’s been in an accident,” Rowoon told you and you froze. What was he trying to say? Was Minu involved? “Minu’s in critical condition a nd I’ve been with his parents since we found out. I guess someone found him somewhere off the interstate when they saw his car was completely demolished. Everyone’s still trying to figure out what happened and it’s been hours, I’ve been trying to reach you—“

A light knock made you jump in surprise, remembering Jungkook was out waiting for you.

“Okay, give me a second, I’ll uh… which hospital?” You looked at your reflection in the mirror trying to take your hair.

“Y/n,” Jungkook knocked again, trying to get the door open, “It’s so late.”

“I have to go,” You swung the door open, surprised by how close he was and walked around him to start getting your things. Yes, this definitely felt similar to your first night with him.

“At this hour? No, come on I thought we were spending the day together,” Jungkook said, following after you in just a pair of sweats and not caring about it at all, “Where are you going?”

Do you tell him the truth? How would he react? Just last night you were talking things over with him and trying to see if this could work and now you’re leaving him for Minu. Of course there's a reason behind it but does Jungkook need to know? He watched you get dressed in yesterday’s clothes and scratched the back of his neck, confused.

“Can I tell you when I come back?” You asked, heading out of his bedroom with your things.

“You left your car at your place so don’t you have to tell me if I’m taking you somewhere?” He asked, tone even and calm.

Shit.

“I’ll get an Uber or something, let me figure out what’s going on before I bring you into this,” You told him, knowing what you said would only urge Jungkook to keep pressing you. He’s not the type to just let things go you’ve learned.

“Is this about Minu?” Jungkook asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously, “You’re done with him.”

A sigh left your lips, shaking your head, “It’s not like that, I am done with him bu—“

“Then why are you trying to bail on me for him right now?” Somehow and you’re not sure how it happened, but he was standing in front of the door keeping you from leaving. It didn’t feel intimidating but he was making it hard for you to just leave like you normally do, “He’s going to be fine.”

He said it somewhat bitterly, looking away from you for a second and you nearly missed the way his jaw clenched. His words comforted you for a short moment before you began to think it over.

Minu probably will be fine, he’s strong and has people supporting him. Even if you cheated that doesn’t mean you lost all feelings for the guy. He’ll always be part of you in some way, a reminder or a memory. He’s going to be fine, possibly, but what does Jungkook know? Did everyone around you hear the news before you could?

“How can you be so sure?” You asked, wanting to see how much he knew about the accident.

Jungkook smiled, relaxing his face as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I mean… you know… he’s a grown man and the two of you are over. What do you need to go see him for? He’ll be fine.”

“Jungkook, he was in an accident,” You finally said, hoping he’d just drop it and let you go.

He released a huff, irritated and barely holding it together as he pinched between his forehead, “And he’s still alive so why are you rushing out at this hour?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying, clearly the car accident wasn’t that bad if he’s still breathing,” His annoyed tone only became more noticeable when he got closer, hands suddenly holding your face, brushing hair back and trying to smile, “So relax and just stay with me like you promised, okay?”

You blinked in realization, trying to take a tentative step back but he kept you out where you were, “Car accident?”

“I heard a little of your phone call,” Jungkook said with a shrug but you were pushing him off. “I’m going to the hospital.”

“Y/n—“ The door slammed shut as you snuck away from his hands and he was grasping at air. With another sigh, he went to Bam’s bed, asking if he wanted to go on the balcony for air and acting like nothing happened.

You barely made it downstairs when your phone began buzzing to life with another phone call. You answered without question, “I’m on my way now, is there anything I should bring?”

“No, I just wanted to tell you what authorities are saying,” Rowoon said standing outside his best friend’s hospital room, “At first they thought he might’ve been drinking because it was late but tests came back negative. They had a mechanic check out the car just now and I guess something was wrong with his brakes.”

Minu’s brakes? He’s had problems with them before but you remember paying nearly a thousand dollars to fix it for him so what was wrong with them this time?

“Do you know where he went after work?”

“I remember calling him and he said he had some errands to run, he’d been talking about getting an oil change and going to pick up some parcels from the lockers but I don’t know if he did that last night,” Rowoon told you through the phone, “The lockers he usually goes to are south but I guess he was coming from the north side of the interstate when he wrecked. It was probably close to 10pm when it happened.”

You live north but Minu always lived further from you. What was he doing on the north side, getting an oil change? Wouldn’t whoever was working on the oil change notice his brake lines?

“Okay, uh, I’ll be there as soon as I can, I'm not home so I need to get some things, I’ll call you,” You cleared your throat, looking at Jungkook’s large truck and the familiar decal of the auto shop he worked at.

Before you knew it, you found yourself turning right back around and going back to Jungkook. You didn’t bother knocking as you let yourself in and found him relaxed in his living room, “What time did you get off work last night?”

“I thought you wanted to go see your piece of shit ex,” he couldn’t hide his annoyance even if he tried. The short minutes you were gone he’d managed to upset himself with the thought of you going to see Minu and how he possibly made it worse for himself. You’re worried about Minu, which is not what he wanted at all. He needs to stop acting so impulsively because it bites him in the ass. For all he knows, he could be pushing you back with your ex. Although annoyed, he couldn’t help but answer your question anyway, “You know what time I got off, I came over right after.”

When he called it was about 9:40pm, the shop is usually open until 10 since it’s one of the only places running so late some nights they’re busy and some nights they’re slow. There’s no way Minu would’ve found himself there, right?

Sure, he works late at the office sometimes and he waits till last minute to do things and if he’s in dire need of an oil change and can’t wait for the next day; there’s a chance he’ll go to whatever shop is open late but there’s no way.

When you talked on the phone with Jungkook he wasn’t doing anything, saying he was ready to close but the shop isn’t too far from the interstate going south and if Minu were to be going home from the shop, that’s about a forty minute drive. You had to be overthinking things.

A smile stretched across his face as he looked at you, “Change your mind and want me to drive?”

“Why’d you call me last night?” You asked suddenly and he felt the urge to laugh. Since you had left just moments ago he knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep again and now you’re questioning him about the dumbest of things.

“Because I wanted to talk to you,” Jungkook answered without missing a beat, “You look freaked out, come here.”

“Jungkook, just tell me right now, did you run into Minu last night?” You asked. You weren’t trying to sound so accusative but you just had to know so you can have peace of mind. There’s just no way the man you had an affair with would do something to your former partner.

It’s so cliche, so vindictive, bizarre, shameless.

But then again Jungkook is nothing but — and he’s proven that to you since the moment he found out you were taken. You’ve been shameless with him but that doesn’t mean he’d go as far as to hurt someone? Sure, there’s been times you think he’s too intense or too caught up on you but he’s also such a playful flirt that it throws you off. Was there a side to Jungkook you didn’t know about? A side that hurts others and has no remorse? He’s always blunt which you know, but he’s been so abrasive about Minu. He practically told you to get over it because Minu’s alive but why’d he say it the way he did? Now that you’re thinking it over… he was sort of… apathetic. You’d think he’d have some sort of empathy.

This entire time Jungkook can see the wheels turning in your head. He hated keeping things from you but he can’t tell you everything. There’s things someone does for the person they care for that they just can’t say. He did this for you so you wouldn’t have to worry about Minu tryin to get in the middle of you two again so why are you looking at and questioning him so hard? The best thing he can do right now is keep his cool.

“I can’t remember,” He said, eyes locked with yours as if daring you to ask something else. Will you?

“They said there was a problem with his brakes which is kind of weird because I footed the bill a few months ago to have them fixed,” You told him, walking closer.

He just shrugged, “Whoever fixed them did a shitty job then I guess. Sorry you wasted your money on him.”

“You really didn’t see him? Apparently he was on this side of town an—“

“I don’t remember, fuck I thought you were done. Can we stop talking about him?” He stood up abruptly, arms on your waist and pulling you into him harshly, “I love you, you know that? I’ve never actually said that before but it feels right telling you.”

He waited to hear you say it back but you didn’t.

“You did something, didn’t you?” You gripped his forearms, feeling them tighten so you could pry him off you, “You’re acting weird and it’s weirding me out so just tell me it’s not a coincidence.”

“If I were to do anything it’s because I don’t want you to worry about anyone else anymore,” Jungkook said, locking his arms in place so you couldn’t move. He felt your struggle trying to get his arms off but he gets what’s going on. You’re acting strange and accusing him [of things he clearly did] but it doesn’t look like you’re interested in hearing him out. He doesn’t want to confine you and dim your spark like Minu did, but he wants you to relax and trust that he’ll fix things for you.

“Let me go,” You said, breathing hitching when he began to walk you back toward the living room, “I have to go.”

“No, I don’t think you do. You said that earlier and you still came back so why don’t you just stay?” He let you down into his couch, “Minu’s not going anywhere I’m sure so just stay with me. It’s kind of bothering me that you’re still giving him any attention.”

“It was you, you did something to him,” You tried getting back to but with no effort needed, he had you sitting again, this time with his hands on the back of the couch trapping you. Your hand pushed at his chest trying to find room around him to get yourself out but he gripped your hand roughly and yanked it over your head, “Look, I did you a favor. I was just thinking about you and what would be easier for us.”

Jungkook hovered over you, keeping you from moving and dug his knee in the space between your legs while his hands held yours over your head. His hair fell over his face now but it didn’t obscure his vision of you. You tried kicking your legs up but it did nothing and you felt like screaming with frustration.

“You could’ve gotten him killed,” You spat back feeling the urge to laugh bitterly, “And for what?”

“For you,” Jungkook leaned down so he was more eye level with you, “I remember the first time I’d seen you, you barely looked at me, y'know. I tried getting over it because, really, it wasn’t anything serious at all but then I started going to the gym more often and every time I’d see you I’d just… well, I thought you were pretty.”

“I knew you had a boyfriend before you even said anything,” He admitted watching your expression change to realization, “And I was a little nervous about pursuing you still but you made it so damn easy, Y/n.”

You looked away from him, disgusted with yourself and shook your head as if it’d change things, “You didn’t know anything about me.”

“So? I knew that I liked you and that you were with someone you didn’t care abo—“

“That’s not true!” You tried to argue, stiffening when he cupped your face with his hand. His touch suddenly felt cold and uncomfortable against your skin. You attempted to shake him off, “I actually loved Minu, I s-still do and I’m going to go see him and he’s going to take me back, I know he will because he’s said it and I’m never going to see you again because you’re a crazy stalker freak.”

A laugh sounded through the room and the fingers cupping your chin tightened around your jaw making you wince, “You can’t love someone you don’t even fucking like. Give me a break, Y/n I’ve had to listen to you for weeks tell me how you don’t like him, you can be mad at me all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t care about him. He’s in some hospital room fighting for his life, probably asking where the girl he’s loved for years is and you had a chance to go. I gave you a chance to walk out my door but what did you do? You came back, love.”

“Shut up,” you fought against his hold, feeling him get closer and closer to you and it was freaking you out. Just hours ago you welcomed his warmth and how he felt against you but right now it was making you sick to your stomach. He’s acting differently and he’s being strangely aggressive and telling you things you don’t want to hear and admitting things that are wrong. He’s done something to hurt someone you once held a lot of love for and he doesn’t care.

“Why? You don’t like the truth,” his forehead pressing into yours to keep you from looking away from him and he could practically feel the tear slip from your eye and into his skin, “You wasted three years with him just to not be by his side when he needs you the most.”

“You’re not letting me—“ A strangled whine left your lips as he forced his mouth into yours. You fought against his hold on your wrists, pushing back into the couch to get further away from him. Your refusal to kiss him back hurt him more than your fight against his grip did, “I told you I’d be there for you and figure it out so why are you being so mean to me right now? You weren’t supposed to care about what happens to him now. You hate him, I know you do so please stop pushing away from me.”

You blinked nervously, looking around him and searching his face for what he was thinking. His grip on your wrists was tight by the way his fingers trembled everytime he took a breath. He had you fully caged underneath him and there was no way for you to get him to ease up. You had to think. Of course you’ve never been in a situation like this and despite the many times Minu got aggressive he never did anything more than shove you away. He never made you feel restricted like this with nowhere to move. Part of you wanted to freeze up but then the other part of you wanted to run. Jungkook has always been sweet [right?], so why is he acting crazy?

He was becoming unpredictable and an unpredictable man is a scary one.

Jungkook felt your wrists go limp and you released a sigh, trying to keep yourself calm and it gave him an ounce of hope. Sure, he could’ve gone a better way about things to keep you from leaving but he had to be sure you didn’t leave. There was no point in continuing to pretend he didn’t know Minu or how he got hurt. He went too far, he knows, but it’s a little too late to regret that, right? If he lets you go you’ll leave him and who knows, probably tell authorities. It’s be hard to prove it was him unless you spoke up. It’ll be written off as an accident and Minu will be fine so there’s no need for you to go anywhere. It’s not like he put his hands on the guy… so what? You’ll come to realize it was so bad, right?

When you looked up at him he couldn’t find the disgust in your eyes from earlier and that made him happy. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, feeling the salt of your tears and checking to see how you’d react to him this time. You didn’t flinch away and he took it as a good sign. Unable to stop himself, he tried kissing you again. Your breath hitched, giving him a delayed response as you tried to kiss him back. Something was wrong with him deep inside and it made you want to be as far from him as you could. You didn’t want to kiss him but it’s been a lie you’ve told yourself since you met him. The truth is you like kissing Jungkook and being around him but he makes things too complicated for you.

His lips were soft, as usual, and the hand he had cupping your face was sliding toward your neck, disappearing into your hair and trying to get you to lean your head back so he can deepen the kiss. Just as he began to relax and melt against your touch, you bit.

Your teeth dug into his bottom lip, hooking onto the lip ring and pulling hard enough for him to jump back. The second he stumbled off you, you finished giving him a shove and sprinted toward the front door.

“Aish,” he held his hand to his lip, feeling liquid trickle onto his fingers. You nearly tore his lip off using his piercing and with an annoyed grunt, he spit out, looking down the open front door. You’re starting to piss him off.

You sprinted down the hall, feeling around the pockets in your gym shorts for your phone but felt nothing. Did it slip out when you were fighting for him? You refused to look back and see if he was coming after you or not so you ran down the stairs.

The sun wasn’t even out yet and most places around weren’t open yet. You needed to get ahold of someone, anyone. You were in little clothes with no identification on you and no way to pay for a cab fee. Did you seriously drop your phone? If you’re lucky, there’s some street vendor getting ready to start their morning or maybe someone walking their pet. It’s not completely dead.

“Excuse me,” You shouted from across the street, trying to get the attention of some old person walking toward the bus stop. You ran across the empty street and got her attention, “I’m sorry, c-can I borrow your phone? I lost mine and I need to make a call.”

She handed you an old model and stared at you confused as you tried to dial someone. The police would be the best thing but maybe you were more stupid than you thought. Something was stopping you from doing it. What if you were overreacting? What if this was all in your imagination or maybe you escalated the situation without knowing it?

“Did you cut your lip?” The woman asked, pointing at the blood trickling down your chin, “Have you been in an accident?”

You wiped off Jungkook’s blood and looked back to his building. What if you’re the one who gets in trouble? What if they say you attacked him? You can tell them that whatever happened to Minu was because of Jungkook but that’s only happened a few hours ago and they’re still trying to get him help. Jungkook was with you, it would take a while for them to believe it.

No, not the police. You should call Eunbi or Hobi, yes, that’s better. Your fingers froze over the buttons, shifting nervously as you tried to remember their numbers. Fuck, why can’t you think right now? You pushed the phone back into her hands, “I’m sorry.”

The woman called for you but you were walking away, shaking your head anxiously. It was cold and your brain was hurting. You’re trying to understand what is going on but it feels like you’re blanking. What did Jungkook do? What did you do?

Jungkook ran downstairs, he wore a black hoodie and ball cap and with a wound closure bandage on his lip. He fished his keys out of his pocket and checked the time, 4am.

It took him a while to clean up so there’s a chance you’re long gone but he’s going to find you. You just need to talk it out.

Across the street he found someone sitting at the bus stop and though his truck was just a few yards back, he headed in her direction. “Excuse me, ma’am, I was um… I was wondering if you’ve seen a woman around here?”

She looked at him strangely, eyes catching on his busted lip and he touched it insecurely, “You see, my girlfriend and I just got into a little bit of a disagreement and I’ll admit it’s my fault. I’ve upset her and she left really mad at me. I want to give her space but I at least want to make sure she’s alright. I mean look at the sky, the sun’s not even out yet.”

“You don’t have to tell me where she went but can you at least tell me if you saw someone get in a car or not? She was in shorts and a pink shirt, pretty face and she’s about this tall?” He proceeded to describe you.

“She didn’t get in a car,” Was all the woman said to him. For all she knew it could’ve very been a lover’s quarrel. Jungkook took what little information she gave him and ran back to his truck.

What hospital did Rowoon say again? How far was it? What street were you on? Why can’t you remember? Are you shutting down right now because you can’t. You can’t just let yourself forget everything. You stood at the end of a street trying to read the street sign, jumping when a car passed.

You weren’t crazy enough to ask a stranger for a ride at this point but would Jungkook just let you go? You had a heated argument just now and he’s already proven to be more unhinged than you thought. Maybe it’s best to stay off the main streets. You know this neighborhood well enough, surely you’ll pass by a street you recognize.

You know your bag sat on the couch most likely with your phone and you hated how stupid you were. Not only did you let him drive you to his place last night but you also left all your things when you fled.

Jungkook knew you couldn’t have gotten far without your things, especially if you were on foot so he drove down the streets slowly, looking around every shadow and alleyway. He hated that you were scared and out there. You should’ve just stayed with him. Why are you complicating things? Maybe he should ditch the truck and go on foot like you.

You did a 360 of the street you were on, okay, you can kind of tell where you’re at. What time was it? There was a sliver of orange in the sky, the sun wasn’t out yet but soon it would be. You turned down the corner, stopping abruptly as you stared ahead. You covered your eyes with your hands as the bright led headlights of a familiar black car stood before you.

“Are you lost?” Jungkook asked, stepping toward you cautiously, “You left all your things when you left in such a hurry, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You blinked, “What time is it?”

“A little past five in the morning, come here,” Jungkook called for you but you didn’t move, “Babe, if you want me to take you to go see him I will but please just come with me. You’re acting out of line, I mean look at me. You bit me.”

He pointed at his swollen, bandaged lip and took another step toward you, “Bam is scared and you’ve woken up all the neighbors I’m sure. I know you’re upset because someone you once cared for is hurt but you’re acting paranoid.”

“W-where are my things?” You asked, feeling his hand touch your side.

“At my place, come here, it’s cold,” He pulled you into him and winced at the feel of your trembling body against his. He tightened his arms around you, petting the back of your head and trying to lead you to his running truck.

“I need my things,” you mumbled, letting him help you into his truck And buckle you in. He smiled, kissing your hand gently, “I know, we’ll get them, okay? I told you I’m here for you so relax.”

You nodded your head but he could tell you weren’t fully listening. He locked your door as a precaution and quickly made it to his side. He knocked the hat and hood off his head and shook his hair free. His truck was tinted and hard to see through and the street was dark so he felt more at ease now that you weren’t out on it wandering around.

Honestly, he’s not ashamed to admit how surprisingly easy it was to get you back in his arms. He just needed to find a way to keep you here with him like hes been wanting this whole time.

E N D

::.

NO PART TWO

I got tired mid editing sorry

okok ik yall are probably mad at the ending but listen 😭im tired of damn fic 😔like I feel like realistically shit really would hit the fan so fast and that’s why I rushed the ending

I haven’t posted in five months and I had so much of this complete but the end I’m like ahhhhh

anyway I kno there’s going to be mega y/n haters but remember jk is crazy too 🤓

what do we think tho 🫣ngl I thought he was kinda hot but like such an asshole but also so sweet but also a manipulator

inbox is open for questions about the fic so ask about the characters it’s probs confusing

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @Sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @Watermelonjuice15 @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

@maryy1300 @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @Bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @tridha345 @ily4jknity @ivygguk @ryuzakiswife @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @lesoleile @Eunhee-jk @Aindrila @cherrymoonlightt @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @Butterflykpop @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife

[also it’s not that I don’t want yall in my taglist I just quite literally have no room]

[hoperecs]

Inevitable (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, talks of insecurities, explicit sexual content (oral sex, fingering, making out, straddling, unprotected/protected penetrative sex but be safe please! specific warnings will be written on applicable chapters)

Series Word count: ~89.8k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: I love exes aus, and (athlete) dad Jungkook does things to me and after months of this little family living in my head, I finally got to put them into writing. So I hope you enjoy knowing them as much as I loved writing them 🥰 Also, my knowledge on baseball (and the MLB and the KBO) is quite shallow so for wrong terms and stuff… please ignore!

Prologue (wc: 2.2k)

Chapter 01 (wc: 6.9k)

Chapter 02 (wc: 7.2k)

Chapter 03 (wc: 7.7k)

Chapter 04 (wc: 9.9k)

Chapter 05 (wc: 7.5k)

Chapter 06 (wc: 7.7k)

Chapter 07 (wc: 6.6k)

Chapter 08 (wc: 14.7k)

Epilogue (final) (wc: 6.3k) 

Only Love: An Inevitable Epilogue (wc: 13k) || End

masterlist

[hoperecs]

shot glass full of tears | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: veterinarian! jungkook x cat mom! reader, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Summary: When your beloved cat suffers a small injury, you're left with no choice but to call your ex-boyfriend, who just so happens to be a veterinarian. But when you see Jungkook for the first time in five months, the weight of the past comes crashing down and suddenly, you’re left wondering if walking away from him was the biggest mistake of your life. Meanwhile, Jungkook, desperate for a second chance, sees this as the moment he's been waiting for and with a heart full of lingering feelings, he’s determined to set things right and show you the love you truly deserve—if only you’ll let him.

Word Count: 20.1k+

Warnings: JUNGKOOK WEARS GLASSES !! unprotected sex (you know the drill), oral (f. receiving), mentions of feeling neglected and lonely in a relationship, mentions of pet injury, blood, inaccurate veterinary advice and diagnosis (sorry, i'm not a vet so just roll with it), there's so much yearning and hurt and comfort

playlist for the vibes <3

cher's notes: back with another long ass oneshot with my fav trope of all time. i'm so utterly in love with this jungkook and istg idk what took over me when i was writing this. i hope everyone finds a man written by a woman (cher) lmao ALSO I WISH I HAD A CAT AHHHH.

"Make sure you keep Milo hydrated and monitor any changes in his appetite." Jungkook advises gently, his tone professional yet reassuring. The teenage boy in front of him nods earnestly, his hands stroking the small Maltese on the bed with careful tenderness.

"Got it. Thank you so much, Dr. Jeon." the boy says, his gratitude evident in the way he bows slightly before scooping up Milo. The dog's soft, snow-white fur brushes against his chin as it wiggles in his arms, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Jungkook watches them leave, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he exhales quietly and tugs at the knot of his tie, loosening it a bit. The fabric feels constricting, a small annoyance after a string of back-to-back appointments. 

Stepping out of the examination room, Jungkook nods briefly at his receptionist, Hwayoung, who greets him with her usual smile. "That was the last one for today, Dr. Jeon." she informs him, her tone light.

"Thanks, Hwayoung." he replies, throwing her a quick thumbs-up before heading towards his office. The familiar quiet of his personal cabin envelops him as he enters, offering a brief respite from the bustle of the clinic.

Jungkook sinks into the leather chair by his desk as the weight of the day clings to his shoulders, but his movements are steady, almost methodical, as he pulls his laptop closer to check his emails one last time. 

Each message is a mix of routine and responsibility... follow-ups on treatments, updates on upcoming surgeries, and the occasional thank-you note from grateful pet owners.

After typing out a quick reply to an inquiry about post-operative care for a golden retriever, he leans back, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. His gaze shifts to the corner of the desk where a stack of patient files waits to be filed, but for now, he decides to leave them. 

Putting his glasses back on, he stands and reaches for his briefcase, placing his stethoscope neatly inside.

Opening the middle drawer of his desk, Jungkook retrieves an envelope... some important mail he had placed there earlier. But as always, his fingers falter when they brush against something else.

The tiny, velvet-coated blue box.

Jungkook's fingers hover over it, trembling slightly before he pulls it out and stares at it. The box feels heavier than it should, not in weight but in what it represents... a future that never came to be. 

He lets out a weak sigh, the kind that seems to carry months of unspoken grief. The box has been there, unmoving, for the past five months, hidden in the depths of his drawer like a ghost he can't bring himself to confront.

He hasn't found the strength to get rid of it or perhaps, deep down, he doesn't want to. A sliver of hope still lingers, faint but stubborn, clinging to him like a shadow. A hope that maybe, just maybe, things could somehow go back to the way they were.

It's been five months since you walked out of his life. Five months since everything he thought he knew about love and forever crumbled in the quietest, most heartbreaking way. 

You had sat across from him that evening in your shared apartment, your hands trembling slightly, but your voice, steady and composed, delivered the words that still haunt him."I don't think I'm even a part of your life anymore, Jungkook."

Your tone wasn't laced with anger or bitterness. That was what made it hurt so much more. It was calm, resigned, as though the weight of carrying the pain alone had finally crushed you.

He remembers sitting there, stunned into silence, the truth of your words striking like a cold blade to his chest. He couldn't argue with you because deep down, he realized you were right.

Jungkook had unknowingly let work consume him. 

The long hours at the clinic, the endless parade of appointments he volunteered for, and the late nights spent reviewing patient files and various case studies had blinded him to the cracks forming in your relationship. 

He thought he was building something meaningful for the both of you... a solid future, but in doing so, he had let the present slip right through his fingers.

He hadn't noticed the exhaustion etched into your face after long days at work, or how you stopped sharing the little stories about your day because you knew he wouldn't be fully present to listen. 

He remembers the meals you had prepared, waiting for him to come home and share them with you. But he was always late, and by the time he arrived, the food was cold, and you had given up waiting. He remembers slipping into bed beside you, only to find you already asleep, curled up on the edge of the mattress, your back turned to him.

Neglect wasn't a loud thing... it didn't scream or break things or demand attention. It was silent, creeping in like a shadow, eroding the foundation of a relationship until there was nothing left to hold onto.

And by the time Jungkook had understood that, it was already too late.

As ridiculous as it might sound now, he truly thought everything was fine. In his mind, every long night at the clinic, every extra appointment he took, every ounce of energy he poured into his work, it was all for the future he was building for the both of you. 

A future where he could finally give you everything you deserved.

That's also why he had spent months searching for the perfect ring, obsessing over every detail to make sure it was as extraordinary as you were. He wanted it to be a symbol, a promise of the forever he was so certain you both wanted especially after being together for 4 years.

But when he finally found it, he simply held onto it, waiting for the "perfect" moment. He kept convincing himself he'd find the right time to propose, to tell you how much you meant to him and how he couldn't imagine his life without you.

But life isn't patient, and love doesn't wait for perfect moments. By the time he was ready to give you that ring, you were already done with him.

The realization still cuts him like glass. You had loved him with everything you had and so did he, but love alone isn't enough when one person feels invisible. 

And now, that tiny blue box sits in his desk drawer, a reminder of everything he lost... not just you, but the life he thought you'd share together.

If only he had noticed sooner. If only he had listened. If only he had made you feel like you were enough, like you were his priority.

If only he hadn't been so blinded by his own ambition, so wrapped up in his work that he couldn't see the loneliness in your eyes.

If only he had paused long enough to hear the quiet pleas in your silences, the way you had stopped fighting for his attention because you had already given up.

If only he had reached out when you started to pull away, if only he had seen how much you needed him to fight for you.

If only he had cared more about the present and less about the future he was trying to build, the future that now felt empty without you in it.

If only he had recognized the signs, the small cracks in your smile, the way you withdrew a little more each day.

If only he hadn't assumed that love could wait until tomorrow, until the perfect moment, until the time was right.

If only he had told you how much you meant to him when you were still by his side. If only he had made the effort to show you that you were everything to him, before you walked away.

If only he had loved you the way you deserved to be loved.

But sadly, "if only" doesn't change anything.

All it leaves behind is regret.

He clutches his briefcase as he walks past the receptionist's desk, glancing at Hwayoung who's wrapping up for the day, gathering her things. "Get home safe, Hwayoung." Jungkook says, offering her a gentle smile.

She looks up, returning his smile with a bow. "You too, Dr. Jeon. See you tomorrow."

Jungkook nods in acknowledgment as he turns and heads towards the exit, his mind still swirling with thoughts of you.

The air outside is cool, the evening sky bathed in the soft, fading hues of twilight. As Jungkook walks towards his car, the weight of your absence presses down on him with each step, an invisible burden that grows heavier as time passes. 

He misses you so much and every day, the reality of your absence becomes harder to accept. 

Five months have stretched out into what feels like an eternity, and still, he finds himself wishing.... desperately wishing, that he could see you again, hold you close, love you the way he should have before.

He still hears updates about you, filtered through the mutual friends you both shared during the course of your relationship. Namjoon, who works in the same office as you, occasionally mentioned how things at your job had been improving, that the pressure had finally started to lift a little. 

Seokjin, who, ironically, was the one who introduced you two, had casually told him how you had adopted a little cat in your new apartment. Taehyung, too, had shared how his girlfriend, Seulgi keeps trying to convince you to go on random blind dates.

The news about the blind dates gnaws at him. He can't help but feel a pang of discomfort, even jealousy, twisting in his chest. But he knows he has no right to feel that way. You deserve to meet new people, to move forward with your life and search for things he couldn't provide. 

After all, he had failed you. He had failed to give you the attention, the care, the priority you so desperately needed but still, the mere thought of you with someone else... someone who might be able to offer you the things he couldn't, tears at his heart in ways he never imagined possible. 

But, as much as it hurts, he knows he has to accept it. He has to face the reality of his mistakes, the ones that led him here, even if the weight of it threatens to drown him.

Yet, despite it all, a part of him can't let go of the hope that maybe, just maybe, he could have another chance. But he doesn't know how to approach you anymore, how to bridge the gap that has grown between you two. 

For months, he has tried to rebuild himself, to make sense of his mistakes. He's started leaving the clinic at reasonable hours, something that had once been an afterthought for him. He takes time now to reflect on his actions, on how he had let his work consume him, how he had taken you for granted. 

He understands now that his priorities had been upside down. He sees the things he had overlooked and it aches in ways words can't explain.

He knows that if he is ever blessed with another chance with you, he won't waste it. He will cherish you, love you in the way you always deserved. But the question lingers... how does he even begin? How does he take the first step to prove that he's changed, to show you that he's ready to be the man you need him to be?

Jungkook shakes his head softly, a wave of frustration settling deep in his stomach as he grips the steering wheel, pulling the seatbelt across his chest. The engine hums to life, but as he starts to drive, the city outside blurs into a swirl of distant lights and noise. 

He comes to a stop at a traffic signal, his fingers absently drumming on the steering wheel, his gaze drifting towards the chaotic life of the city he's so disconnected from.

Suddenly his dashboard lights up, indication that someone's calling. The name that flashes on the screen hits him like a punch to the chest, sending his heart into a frantic rhythm.

You're calling.

After five long months, this is the first time you're calling.

His breath hitches, his heart leaping into his throat. Anxiety gnaws at him, but there's also a wave of joy so overwhelming it almost feels suffocating. The confusion, the fear, the hope... it all crashes into him in a single breath, and before he can process anything, he presses the screen to accept your call.

"Hel—" His starts, but you speak before he can finish. "Kook..." Your voice crackles through the speakers of his car, barely a whisper at first, but there's something raw and desperate in it that makes his blood run cold.

He leans forward, gripping the wheel tighter, as he hears you sniffle on the other side. His pulse quickens, heart hammering in his chest. "Y/n?" he asks, his voice thick with concern, but it's the quiet, almost choking sound of your breath that cuts through him.

"Kook, please... please, come home..." you beg, and it's like your voice shatters with each word. "Skittles... Skittles is bleeding... and I don't know what to do... please, Kook... I can't—I'm so scared..."

Skittles. He knows that's the name of your cat. The one you adopted after moving into your new place.

The tremor in your voice pierces through him like a dagger to his chest and the sound of your sobs reverberates in the quiet of his car. He can hear every desperate breath you take and it's as if your pain is now his own. 

His heart is racing, a wild storm of worry rising in his chest, but he doesn't hesitate even for a second. "I'll be right there, Y/n." he says, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "I'm on my way." 

You never thought you'd be contacting your ex-boyfriend after five long months... especially not for an emergency like this. 

It wasn't just any emergency, it was Skittles, your cat, who was bleeding through his nose and in distress. The usual vet you took Skittles to, wasn't answering, and with your heart racing and panic clouding your mind, you couldn't think straight. 

And then, like a force of instinct, you found yourself dialing Jungkook's number.

You had initially gotten Skittles as a form of coping. 

When you moved out of the apartment you'd once shared with Jungkook and into a new place, the silence that followed felt suffocating. The ache of the break up was overwhelming and you desperately needed something, anything, to fill the void that had settled in your heart. 

And that's when a friend at work suggested adopting a pet, and suddenly a chunky british shorthair who you named Skittles became the center of your universe. 

Though the void left behind by Jungkook was never truly filled, Skittles did his best to heal you, in his own cute little ways. His presence brought some comfort, but the emptiness you felt without Jungkook lingered, persistent and heavy. 

You craved the presence of the love of your life... the warmth of his smile, the sound of his voice, the gentleness of his touch. You missed it all so fiercely, and no matter how hard you tried, it seemed like nothing could ever replace what you had lost.

You had loved Jungkook with everything you had, body and soul, and to lose him was like losing a part of yourself. But somewhere along the way, things changed. It wasn't his fault but the growing distance between you both became unbearable. 

You started feeling lonely even when he was right beside you. It wasn't that he didn't care, you knew that. It was because he was so consumed by his work, so consumed by his endless hours at the clinic that he didn't even realize you were left behind, watching from the sidelines of your own relationship, a spectator to a life you thought you were building together.

The more you gave, the less you felt seen. The more you tried to reach out to him, the more you felt like you were losing yourself in the process. You felt invisible, as if you were fading into the background of his busy life. 

And that ache, that loneliness, started to chip away at you. You kept convincing yourself it would get better, that things would change, but they never did. And in the end, it felt like you were carrying the weight of it all on your own.

It wasn't an easy decision, leaving him. It felt like you were breaking your own heart, but there came a point when you couldn't pretend anymore. You couldn't keep holding on, not when it felt like you were slowly losing yourself. 

The love you had for him was still there, still so strong, but you had to let go.

You thought that after the breakup, the emptiness would fade... that you'd find yourself again, rebuild your life, and finally feel whole. But the truth was, it was harder than you'd imagined. The grief lingered, and as much as you tried to move on, you couldn't stop missing him. 

No matter how many blind dates Seulgi convinced you to go on, none of those men could ever come even the slightest bit close to what Jungkook was. None of them made your heart race the way he did, and none of them carried that comforting presence that felt like home.

And now as you cradle Skittles in your trembling arms, his tiny body squirming in distress and his nose bleeding, the tears spill uncontrollably down your cheeks as you anxiously wait for Jungkook to arrive.

The instant the doorbell rings, you carefully place Skittles on his little bed beside the couch, making sure he's as comfortable as possible. Hastily, you wipe at your tears with shaky hands and rush to the door, swinging it open. 

"Hey." Jungkook pants, his voice slightly breathless, and it's immediately clear that he's taken the stairs... all twelve flights, to reach your apartment. The sheen of sweat glistening on his temples and the way his hair clings to his forehead tell the story. 

"I'm sorry I'm late. The elevator... was occupied, and it felt like it was taking forevr to come down." he explains, already stepping inside without hesitation. 

"Thank you for coming." you sniffle, your voice barely audible through your tears. He pauses, his eyes softening the moment they meet yours. The tension in his face eases as he takes you in, clearly seeing how frazzled and scared you are. 

"Hey..." he murmurs gently, setting down his field bag that contains his emergency veterinary kit against the wall.  He slips off his shoes in one smooth motion and steps closer, placing both hands firmly yet comfortingly on your shoulders. "Everything's going to be fine, okay?" 

Your eyes begin to brim with tears again, but you take a shaky breath and swallow them back, forcing yourself to nod. Jungkook offers you a soft, reassuring smile before reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Where's Skittles?" he asks.

"In the living room." you manage to reply, your voice wavering slightly. He nods and immediately steps away, collecting his stuff and makes his way into the living room.

The moment Jungkook steps into the living room, his eyes land on Skittles curled up in his tiny bed, his little body trembling and his nose streaked with blood. A pang of concern flashes across his face, but his movements remain calm as he slowly kneels on the floor, lowering himself to Skittles' level without making a sound.

You watch anxiously from a few steps away, your hands clasped tightly together, unsure of how Skittles will react. This is their first meeting and your cat, with his shy nature and cautious disposition, doesn't warm up to people easily. 

Jungkook seems to sense this instinctively, his demeanor gentle and unthreatening as he observes the trembling cat. "Hey there, buddy." he murmurs softly, his voice low and soothing, as if he's speaking to a frightened child. 

He doesn't reach out immediately, instead giving Skittles a moment to take in his presence. "I'm not here to hurt you, I promise. Let's see what's going on, okay?"

Skittles' ears flick nervously, his tail twitching as he eyes Jungkook warily. But the gentle cadence of Jungkook's voice seems to work some kind of magic. Slowly, cautiously, Jungkook extends a hand, palm up, giving Skittles the chance to sniff him if he chooses. 

Skittles hesitates, his whiskers twitching, but before he can dart away, Jungkook makes his move, scooping your cat up with practiced ease.

You hold your breath, half expecting Skittles to claw his way out of Jungkook's arms, but to your surprise, he doesn't struggle much. He wriggles slightly, letting out a small, distressed meow, but Jungkook holds him securely, his hands steady and reassuring.

Carefully, Jungkook places Skittles on the couch just above, making sure to support him with one hand while the other reaches for his veterinary kit. His movements are fluid, efficient, as he retrieves a stethoscope and a few other tools. 

You stand frozen, unsure of what to do, watching as Jungkook expertly shifts into vet mode.

"I found him like this when I got home from work..." you blurt out, your voice trembling. "His nose was bleeding, and I don't know what happened. He was fine this morning..." Your words come out in a rush, guilt and fear laced in every syllable.

Jungkook glances up briefly, his expression softening. "It's okay..." he says gently, his voice steady. "We'll figure it out."

He begins his examination, his fingers light yet firm as he tilts Skittles' head up to get a closer look at his tiny nose. "Hey, little guy." he murmurs, his tone soothing as he keeps one hand on Skittles' back to steady him. "This might feel a little weird, but it won't hurt. I promise."

You watch, your heart pounding, as Jungkook works with meticulous care. He checks for swelling, tenderness, or any signs of a deeper injury, all while murmuring softly to Skittles. The sight of him, so focused and patient, tugs at something deep within you. 

He's still the same Jungkook you fell in love with, calm under pressure, always putting others at ease.

"He's scared..." you say quietly. Jungkook looks at you briefly, his gaze warm. "He's okay. He's just not sure what's happening. We'll get him through this."

After a few minutes, Jungkook straightens slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. His gaze shifts around the room until it lands on the coffee table nearby and he points towards the sharp edge. "I think this might be what caused it." he says. "The edge is just the right height, and if he bumped into it too hard while jumping or playing, it could've scraped his nose."

Your eyes widen as you follow his gaze. "Oh my god..." you whisper, guilt washing over you like a tidal wave. "I didn't even think about that. He must've hit it when I wasn't there."

"It happens." Jungkook reassures you. "Cats are agile, but accidents like this aren't uncommon. The good news is, it's nothing serious. It's just a small cut, and it's already starting to clot. There's no swelling or signs of a deeper issue."

Relief floods your system, though your chest still feels tight. "So, he'll be okay?" you question, your voice soft. "He'll be fine." Jungkook answers with a reassuring smile. "I'm going to clean the wound and apply some antiseptic to help it heal faster. You'll just need to keep an eye on him for the next few days and make sure he doesn't scratch at it."

You nod, your eyes never leaving Skittles as Jungkook prepares the antiseptic. He works with precision, his touch so gentle that Skittles barely flinches. "You're being so brave." Jungkook chuckles to the cat, his voice filled with warmth. "Just a little more, and you'll be all set."

You've seen Jungkook take care of animals before. 

Back when you first started dating, you'd often visit him at his clinic, waiting patiently for him to finish his appointments. During those moments, you'd catch glimpses of him in his element... gently talking to animals, giving them belly rubs, stroking their fur, and soothing them when they were in pain.

It was one of the things that made you fall for him... how naturally compassionate he was, how every creature seemed to trust him implicitly, as if sensing the kindness in his soul.

And now, as you watch him, your heart twists. It's not just Skittles he's calming, it's you. 

Once Jungkook finishes cleaning Skittles' wound, he gently places him back in his bed, his hand lingering for a moment to softly stroke the cat's head. "He's going to be just fine." he says as he turns to you. A soft sigh escapes your lips, the weight that had been pressing down on you finally easing. 

You step closer, crouching beside Jungkook as your fingers find Skittles' soft fur. Gently, you stroke his head, and he lets out a small meow, making you giggle. "Hi, cutie." you murmur, your voice soft and affectionate. "Feeling better?" It's as if he understands, because he replies with another little meow.

Jungkook watches the exchange, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You really named your cat after your favorite candy?" he teases lightly.

You glance at him, the teasing lilt in his voice drawing your attention, and it's only then that you realize just how close you are to him. His face is mere inches from yours, and for a moment, your heart stops.

It all comes crashing down now... every suppressed thought, every buried feeling. You're seeing him after five long months, and the sight of him is almost too much. 

He hasn't changed a bit. If anything, he's grown even more handsome, the edges of his jaw sharper, his eyes just as warm, yet tinged with something you can't quite place.

The realization hits hard, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest. You've missed him more than you thought was even possible.

You awkwardly stand up, trying to create some space, your eyes darting around the living room as if searching for an escape. "Uh... yeah, it... it was Jin's idea." you reply, your voice quieter than you intended.

Jungkook notices the sudden shift in your demeanor... the way your shoulders tense, the way you avoid his gaze, nibbling on your lip in that nervous habit he knows all too well. 

Though the sight tugs painfully at his heart, he respects the invisible boundary you've drawn. He stands up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. "That's nice." he says softly, though his tone betrays a hint of wistfulness. 

He watches you fidget with your fingers, your unease palpable. He knows this moment isn't easy for you. It isn't easy for him, either. 

"I think..." he starts, his voice gentle. "I think I'll head out."

At his words, you finally lift your gaze to meet his. "Um... yeah, sure." you reply, stepping aside as he gathers his things and walks towards the front door.

When he bends down to slip on his shoes, you just stand there, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to the other, your fingers nervously twisting together. The silence feels unbearably loud. 

"Um... Kook..." you call out softly. He pauses, straightening up and turning to look at you. "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry." you blurt out, your words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm sorry I called you like it was nothing after five months. I wasn't thinking straight." Your throat tightens as guilt wells up inside you. "I know the breakup must've been hard on you, and I—" You pause, biting back the lump in your throat. "I know you didn't see it coming."

For a moment, he simply looks at you, and you brace yourself for anger or hurt. But then he smiles... a soft, bittersweet curve of his lips that only makes the ache in your chest deepen.

"You don't have to apologize." he says gently, his voice as warm and understanding as it's always been. "On the bright side..." he continues with a light chuckle. "I finally got to meet Skittles." He shifts his bag on his shoulder and tilts his head slightly, his eyes crinkling with a faint smile. 

"Do you know how many stories I've heard from Jin hyung and Tae? I was almost jealous that I was the only one who hadn't met him yet." The playful tone in his voice doesn't mask the lingering melancholy beneath, but his words bring a small smile to your lips. 

It's so like Jungkook to ease the tension, even now.

"Anyways, it was good seeing you." he says softly as he takes a step towards the door. "I'll be leaving now." His hand reaches for the handle, but just as he's about to turn it, he hesitates. The pause is so brief you almost miss it, but then he stops entirely, his shoulders stiffening for a beat. 

Slowly, he glances back at you, something uncertain but determined flickering in his gaze. "Um... Y/n." he calls, his voice almost hesitant, like he's unsure if he should even be speaking.

"Yes?" you respond, stepping closer on instinct. 

He turns fully, facing you with an expression that's softer than you expect. "I'd like you to bring Skittles to the clinic in about a week." he says, his voice soft yet professional, though you can tell he's treading carefully. "I want to check on the healing and make sure there's no sign of infection or lingering issues."

"Of course." you manage to say, nodding. Your voice wavers slightly, and you pray he doesn't notice. "I'll bring him."

Jungkook nods in return, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. "Good. And... if anything feels off before then, call me. I'll come right over."

The sincerity in his words hits you like a tidal wave, and for a second, it's almost too much. You glance down at your hands, fidgeting nervously, then look back up at him. 

His gaze hasn't left you, and you're not sure if that makes it better or worse. "Okay... Thank you so much." you reply.

There's a moment of silence hanging between you both, heavy with everything you want to say but can't. You think he might say something else, the way his lips part slightly and his brows furrow as if he's debating it, but then he catches himself.

Instead, he gives you a small nod, one last fleeting smile, and turns back to the door. 

This time, he doesn't stop.

The door clicks shut behind him, and the quiet that follows feels deafening. You stand there for a moment, staring at the door as though willing it to open again.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath and turn back towards the living room. Skittles is curled up in his bed, breathing evenly now, looking peaceful. You crouch down beside him, stroking his fur gently. 

"Looks like you made quite the impression." you murmur softly, your voice breaking ever so slightly. Skittles meows sleepily, and you let out a quiet laugh, though it feels hollow.

As you sit there, the weight of Jungkook's absence presses down on you even harder. Seeing him again after all these months was like reopening a wound you'd barely begun to mend, yet somehow, having him here, even if it was brief, felt like breathing fresh air after being underwater for far too long.

And now, he's gone again, leaving behind the familiar ache that never truly went away.

"So, you're telling me Jungkook treated Skittles?" Namjoon asks, his tone light but curious as the two of you step out of the elevator.

"Yes." you reply with a small shrug, clutching your bag a little tighter. "I didn't have much of a choice. The usual vet I go to wasn't picking up."

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, falling into step beside you as you walk across the bustling lobby of your office. "How was it?"

"What?" you ask, glancing at him in confusion. "Seeing him after five months." Namjoon clarifies, his tone softer but probing.

You falter for a brief second, your mind replaying the impromptu encounter... the way Jungkook made sure Skittles was okay, the way he looked at you, the warmth in his voice,  the way the past five months had melted into nothing in an instant.

"Well..." You let out a slow breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I didn't even get to process it at first because I was just so scared about Skittles." Your fingers brush absently over your coat, as you nervously lick your lips. 

Namjoon gives a small nod, silently urging you to continue. "But then..." you trail off as Namjoon gently guides you through the large revolving doors and the crisp evening air greets you the second you step out. 

"But then, we had this—" you pause, searching for the right word, your lips parting before pressing together again. "Moment, I guess? Well, honestly I don't even know if it was a 'moment,' you know?" You shake your head slightly, the memory of Jungkook's gaze flashing in your mind. 

"It was brief, but it hit me like a truck. It just... really sank in. That I was seeing him again. That he was right there, in front of me, after five months." Your voice drops slightly, as if saying it aloud makes it more real, as if it solidifies the emotions you've been trying to suppress.

Namjoon watches you, his expression understanding. He doesn't rush you, doesn't fill the silence with empty words. Instead, he lets you sit in your thoughts, lets you sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside you.

"And I just felt so guilty..." you continue after a brief silence. "I called him out of nowhere after five months of complete silence. That was the first time I spoke to him since I moved out, the first time I saw him... and yet, he still showed up without a second of hesitation." You exhale, shaking your head slightly. "And that made me feel so... horrible."

Namjoon watches you carefully, his usual sharp gaze softening as he steps a little closer. "You don't have to feel horrible." he reassures you gently. "Jungkook would've shown up if you needed help, no matter what. Regardless of the situation or how much time has passed."

"I know." you murmur, your eyes drifting towards the dimly lit parking lot, the distant sound of traffic filling the silence between you. "I know... and that's what makes it harder."

"He's always been so understanding, so mature." you continue, your voice thick with emotion. "Even when I was breaking up with him, he didn't fight me on it. He didn't try to come up with excuses or reasons to make me stay. He just... understood." You swallow the lump in your throat, the memory of that evening still vivid in your mind. 

"He even apologized. And when he asked me to reconsider, he did it in the gentlest way possible. But I was just so exhausted back then... I refused. I was so sure I was doing the right thing."

Namjoon listens intently. He doesn't interrupt, letting you pour out the thoughts that have been pressing down on you for months.

"But now..." you exhale shakily, running a hand through your hair. "Now, with the way I'm feeling, I can't help but feel so stupid and wonder if I made the biggest mistake. Maybe I should've held on a little longer. Maybe I should've tried harder, understood him better. Maybe—"

Namjoon spots his car up ahead and slows his pace, gently placing a hand on your back as he guides you towards the passenger side. He opens the door without a word, waiting until you slide in before closing it behind you.

The second he settles into the driver's seat and starts the engine, he finally speaks.

"Look..." he starts, his voice steady but filled with something deeper, something reassuring. 

"I know you. And I know that when you ended things with Jungkook, it wasn't because you stopped loving him. It was because you were hurting. Because you felt alone in a relationship that was supposed to make you feel safe. And that kind of loneliness?" He shakes his head, taking a brief pause. "It eats you up from the inside. It makes you question everything... yourself, your choices, your worth. You needed space. You needed air. And there is nothing wrong with that."

You swallow hard, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. Namjoon sighs, his fingers gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as he slows at a red light. He turns to glance at you, his eyes filled with quiet understanding.

"You've spent so much time convincing yourself that breaking up was the right thing to do... that walking away meant you were strong, that it was the only way to take care of yourself. And maybe at the time, it was..." he pauses, letting the words settle between you. "But just because it felt right then, doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel differently now."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you turn your gaze towards the window, watching the city outside. "You keep saying you feel guilty, but Y/n... love isn't a math equation that has a solution every single time. It's messy. It's confusing and you can't always justify the way you feel. You don't have to beat yourself up just because your heart still aches for him." he says. 

Namjoon exhales and continues. "Maybe breaking up made you realize just how much you need him in your life... not in a desperate way, not in a way that takes away from who you are, but in a way that just makes life feel fuller. Maybe what you had was rare, something worth holding onto, and maybe the space you took was necessary for you to see that."

Your fingers tremble slightly in your lap, and Namjoon notices. He reaches over, giving your hand a comforting squeeze before placing it back on the wheel.

"And yeah, maybe now you're realizing just how much he meant to you, just how much love was really there..." he goes on, his voice softer now. "But Y/n, that doesn't make you weak. It doesn't make you foolish. And it sure as hell doesn't make you stupid."

You bite onto your quivering lower lip, staring down at your hands.

"You don't have to punish yourself for still feeling this way..." he murmurs. "Love doesn't just disappear overnight. It lingers, it settles into the cracks, it makes a home inside of you whether you want it to or not. And sometimes, it takes losing someone to realize just how deeply they were woven into your life."

Tears prick the back of your eyes, and you press your lips together to keep them at bay.

"You don't have to feel stupid for still missing him or even.... loving him..." he says firmly. "Love doesn't just vanish because you decide it should. And it's okay to admit that maybe you were scared. That maybe, in trying to protect yourself, you let go of something you didn't actually want to lose."

You close your eyes for a moment, his words cutting through all the layers of doubt and guilt you had buried yourself under.

"And if you still love him, if there's even a part of you that wonders if there's a way back... then maybe it's not too late to figure that out."

The light turns green, and Namjoon starts driving again, but your mind is stuck replaying his words, every single one of them hitting deeper than you expected.

For the first time in months, you let yourself sit with it. Let yourself feel it all.

Once you've paid the cab driver, you step out of the car, carefully holding Skittles in his transparent carrier. "You okay in there, cutie?" you murmur with a soft smile, lifting the carrier slightly to get a better look at him.

Skittles gazes up at you with wide, inquisitive eyes, his tiny nose—now much better—twitching as he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings.

It's been a week since the incident, and you've followed Jungkook's advice, ensuring Skittles' wound healed properly. You monitored him closely, kept him from scratching the area, and showered him with endless affection.

And now, just as Jungkook suggested, you're bringing him to the clinic for a check-up—to confirm his recovery and ensure there's no lingering infection.

But even as you focus on Skittles, your mind remains tangled in a web of emotions. Ever since your conversation with Namjoon, your thoughts have been in disarray, shifting between reason and longing. You've been weighing your choices, trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out what you truly want.

You still think of a future with Jungkook. How could you not, after everything? The history you share is too vast, too deeply woven into your life to ignore. 

And yet, a small, lingering fear clings to the edges of your heart. What if missing him blinds you into making a hasty decision? What if, despite all your love, you find yourself back in the same place... the same pain, the same loneliness?

And above all, what if it's already too late?

Because while you're still trying to find your way back, you have no idea if Jungkook is still waiting. 

You shake your head, attempting to brush all your thoughts aside, and as you draw closer to the clinic, a quiet exhale escapes you.

The clinic stands before you, its familiar building stirring up a wave of memories. Taking a steadying breath, you push the door open and step inside. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingles with the soft murmur of conversation, grounding you in the present.

You take a brief moment to look around... nothing's changed. The waiting area still holds its rows of metal chairs, a few pet owners settled in, each waiting with their furry companions.

You approach the reception desk, and the moment Hwayoung spots you, her face lights up in recognition. "Oh my gosh, Ms. Min! You're here!" she beams, quickly standing up to greet you.

Hwayoung has always been a ray of sunshine, her kind demeanor making every visit to the clinic a little more pleasant. "Hello, Hwayoung." you reply warmly, offering her a small smile.

"Dr. Jeon told me you'd be coming today." she says excitedly, clasping her hands together. "He asked me to send you straight in."

Your brows furrow slightly in surprise. "Oh, really? Isn't he busy?"

Hwayoung shakes her head, an almost mischievous smile playing on her lips. "He told me to clear his schedule after 5 p.m. just for you. These people are waiting for the other vet." She gestures towards the small queue in the waiting area.

You blink, caught off guard by her words. Jungkook cleared his schedule for you? That's... unexpected. 

You'd come here fully prepared to wait at least an hour, assuming he'd be swamped with appointments. The idea that he made time specifically for you sends a strange flutter through your chest, though you try to shake it off. "Ah, I see." you say softly, nodding. "Thank you, Hwayoung."

She grins. "Of course. Go on in... he's waiting for you."

Clutching Skittles' carrier a little tighter, you take a deep breath and head towards the door leading to Jungkook's examination room. Each step feels heavier than the last, your heart picking up it's pace as you near the familiar space. 

You can't help but wonder if this was just professional courtesy, or was there something more to Jungkook clearing his schedule? You shake your head, pushing all your thoughts aside and raise a hand to knock lightly before stepping inside.

"Oh, Y/n !! Hey." Jungkook greets warmly the moment you step into the room, his face lighting up with a genuine smile as he fixes his glasses over the bridge of his nose. His crisp white coat hangs perfectly over his broad shoulders, paired with his usual work attire, a light blue shirt along with dark slacks. 

"Come in, take a seat!" he gestures, stepping forward to take Skittles' carrier from your hands. The brush of his fingers against yours is brief, but it's enough to make your heart stutter. 

"Thanks." you manage to say, settling into the chair by the examination table. Jungkook carefully places the carrier down, leaning in slightly to peer inside. "Let's see how our little guy is doing." he murmurs with a soft chuckle.

He carefully unclasps the carrier, extending a hand towards Skittles.

Skittles hesitates for a brief moment, sniffing Jungkook's hand before stepping out, his tiny body brushing against his fingers. "Hey there, buddy." Jungkook says in a voice as soft as a whisper, gently stroking Skittles' head. 

To your surprise, and perhaps a little bit of jealousy, Skittles purrs loudly and rubs against Jungkook's stomach, clearly at ease.

"Wow, someone's warming up fast." Jungkook giggles, lifting Skittles with care. "How's your nose, little guy?" he asks, raising him slightly for a better look.

You smile softly at the way he speaks to your cat. "I made sure he didn't scratch at the injury... and I baby-proofed all the sharp edges and corners in my apartment. You know, just to be safe." 

Jungkook laughs at your words. "That's good, Y/n. You're a great cat mom." he says, his smile genuine. You feel a warm blush creep up your neck, pride blooming at his words. "Thanks." you murmur, quickly looking away.

Gently, Jungkook places Skittles back on the examination table and begins his check-up, starting with his little nose.

"His nose looks great... clear, no irritation, and his breathing is steady. That's a really good sign." he informs a few seconds later. You lean forward slightly, relief flooding you. "That's a relief." you say softly.

Jungkook continues his thorough examination, his hands moving with care over Skittles' small body, checking for any discomfort or lingering issues. Skittles, completely at ease, purrs contentedly throughout the process.

"Looks like he's healed beautifully." Jungkook says finally, his tone filled with pride. "There's no sign of infection, and he seems as energetic as ever."

"Thank God." you exhale, a weight lifting off your chest.

Jungkook lifts Skittles once more, holding him close as the cat nuzzles into his chest. "You're lucky, little guy." he murmurs softly to Skittles before his gaze shifts to you. "Not everyone has someone as caring as Y/n right here."

The way he says it, his eyes locking with yours, makes your breath catch. You're not sure if he's still talking about Skittles, and the realization sends your heart racing.

"Thank you for fitting us into your schedule." you say quickly, hoping to steer the conversation back to a safer ground. Jungkook smiles, but there's something softer in it now, something almost wistful. "I'll always make time for you, Y/n. Please know that."

You don't know what to say to that, so you just nod, feeling your cheeks heat under his gaze.

Just then, your phone buzzes with a notification, and almost in perfect sync, Jungkook's does the same. Both of you pull out your phones, eyes reading the notification. 

"Was that Seokjin?" you ask, still scanning the message. "Yeah..." Jungkook replies. "He's invited all of us to a party this weekend." His gaze shifts to meet yours. 

"Yeah... his housewarming party." you echo, your voice trailing off as you both linger in the moment.

A wave of nostalgia hits you, almost out of nowhere. 

It's funny because... Seokjin's parties had always been the backdrop of so many things, including your first meeting with Jungkook. That's where it all began 4 years ago. 

And ever since you and Jungkook broke up, Seokjin hadn't really hosted any parties, mostly because life and work had kept everyone busy. It's also one of the reasons you hadn't seen Jungkook at all these past 5 months.

"So, you're going?" Jungkook asks, his voice pulling you back to the present. You swallow, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. You know Seokjin would be disappointed if you didn't show up, but the idea of being in the same space as Jungkook makes your stomach do flips. 

Still, thinking about it, it doesn't sound too terrible. After all, you're here with him now, and the tension between you two has eased a little. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? Right?

"Yeah." you answer simply, giving a quick nod. Jungkook smiles softly, a look of relief crossing his face as his shoulders seem to relax. He's not about to admit it aloud, but he had no intention of going if you weren't, but the moment you decided you were going, he knew he was going too. 

"So, I'll see you there, then." 

"Oh my god, your ass looks absolutely incredible in this." Seulgi exclaims, her voice laced with playful admiration as she gives your butt a gentle smack, strolling behind you. 

You roll your eyes at her words, sending a quick, pointed glare her way as you both make your way towards Seokjin's new apartment. "What? I'm just stating the obvious." she teases with a shrug, stepping into the apartment right behind you.

"Though, I get the feeling you mostly wore it to catch someone's attention." she adds, wiggling her brows and nudging you with her shoulder. "Oh my god, Seulgi, seriously, stop." You laugh, playfully pushing her away as you both weave through the throngs of people already gathered at Seokjin's place.

"Come on, I know Jungkook's going to be here tonight." she says, a knowing smirk dancing on her lips. "Yeah, and?" you respond, trying to sound nonchalant as your gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the sight of guests casually mingling and admiring the minimalist decor and sleek details of Seokjin's newly acquired apartment.

"I know you still love him." Seulgi says, her voice barely cutting through the low hum of conversation. "I mean, there's a reason none of those blind dates worked out for you." she adds, almost too casually.

At this, you pause mid-step and glance at her, a raised eyebrow betraying the flicker of uncertainty she's just stirred. "Come on, Seulgi, none of those guys were my type." you reply.

"Sure, sure." Seulgi grins, unconvinced, but she doesn't push further. 

Instead, she suddenly shifts her attention when she spots her boyfriend lounging on the couch. "Tae!!" she calls out, her voice high and eager. Without hesitation, she grabs your hand and starts weaving through the crowd, dragging you along.

"Oh hey, babe." Taehyung greets with a sweet smile as he rises from the couch to embrace Seulgi. You stand beside her, your gaze naturally drifting over to Yoongi and Hoseok... two of your closest friends, seated on the couch before settling on the figure seated at the very edge.

Jungkook.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take him in. 

You've seen him without his glasses a thousand times, but somehow, he still manages to look effortlessly breathtaking. And that shirt... God, it's unbuttoned just enough to reveal the sculpted expanse of his chest, exactly the way you like it.

His hair isn't slicked back like it usually is when he's at the clinic. Instead, it falls freely across his forehead, soft waves framing his face in a way that makes your stomach tighten.

Your gaze flickers downward, landing on his exposed forearms, one of them adorned in intricate tattoos. A shiver runs down your spine as memories flood back. The way those arms used to hold you close. The way your fingers used to absentmindedly trace each inked design, learning them by heart.

While you're lost in a trance, so is Jungkook.

His eyes rake over you from head to toe, lingering just a second too long. You still look as stunning as ever and you still seem to have that effect on him, the kind that makes his pulse stutter and his breath falter. 

His heart pounds against his ribcage as his gaze trails down your legs, pausing at the way your feet sit so delicately in those black pumps.

It's as if the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you locked in this unspoken moment.

But before either of you can say anything, the spell shatters.

"Oh hey, Y/n !!" Hoseok's cheerful voice snaps you and Jungkook back to reality. His signature grin is as bright as ever as he pushes himself up from the couch, stepping forward to pull you into a warm embrace.

You return it with a soft smile, willing yourself to shake off the daze you had just been in. "Hi, Hobi. Long time." you say, pulling away.

Yoongi greets you next, offering a small nod and the three of you quickly fall into easy conversation, catching up over small talk. Soon enough, Taehyung and Seulgi join in, and the group buzzes with laughter and chatter. 

Everyone here knows about your breakup with Jungkook, but no one dares to bring it up and you're grateful for it.

Eventually, Namjoon arrives, his presence adding even more liveliness to the party. The evening moves along, and soon, you find yourself tagging along as Seokjin proudly gives a little tour of his new apartment. 

The place is stunning with sleek furniture and tastefully chosen decor. The living room is filled with soft, golden lighting, and a massive floor-to-ceiling window offers a breathtaking view of the city skyline. 

A well-stocked bar stands in one corner, already surrounded by guests mixing drinks, while the balcony doors remain open, letting in the crisp evening air. 

At some point, you find yourself in the kitchen, reaching for a glass of cranberry juice. You had decided early on to stick to non-alcoholic drinks tonight, just to be on the safer side. 

As you take a slow sip, like always your mind betrays you, drifting to Jungkook once again.

You're sure that throughout the night, your eyes have met his at least a million times. And yet, it's never awkward. No, it's something else entirely... something lingering and heavy with longing. 

Like you're both reaching for something, craving something, but the words to bridge the distance simply don't exist.

Before you can dwell on it for too long, a few familiar faces approach, pulling you into easy conversation. The topic shifts between work, life, and other trivial things, grounding you back into the present.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, slipping away from the kitchen in search of your friends. 

Your eyes scan the room, catching sight of Seulgi nestled against Taehyung, their heads tilted towards each other, lost in their own quiet world. You don't have the heart to interrupt, so you decide to look for someone else instead.

You weave through the scattered crowd, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor as you make your way down the hallway. The house is larger than you expected, each turn revealing a new space filled with people engaged in their own conversations. 

You peek into a few rooms, but none of your friends seem to be around. 

Then, as you approach a quieter stretch of the hall, a voice reaches your ears. "Is it not awkward seeing her tonight?"

It's Hoseok.

Your breath catches slightly, your steps faltering. Something deep in your chest tightens because you somehow already know where this conversation is headed and who they're talking to. You know should turn back. You know should leave.

But you don't.

Instead, you linger by the door, which is slightly ajar... just enough for a thin streak of warm light to spill into the dim hallway. You lean against the wall, careful to keep out of sight, heart thrumming as you strain to listen.

"Not really." Jungkook's voice comes next, steady but laced with something fragile, something hesitant, something almost forced. "I mean, I saw her a few days ago, so it's not that bad tonight, you know." He pauses, and you hear the faint exhale of breath, like he's trying to convince himself of his own words.

"I went to her place once, and the second time, she visited me at my clinic." He explains. "She needed some help with her cat."

"Ahh..." Hoseok hums knowingly and just then, another voice chimes in. "How have you been holding up, dude? Honestly." It's Yoongi.

You expect Jungkook to answer right away, but all that follows is another stretch of silence. 

Your heart pounds. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be listening. But you can't move, not yet. Not until he answers.

"Honestly, hyung... I'm not okay." Jungkook's voice is soft, but it crashes into you with full force.

Your fingers tighten around the glass in your hand and you can't help but feel like you're intruding on something deeply personal, something meant only for the people inside that room... but still, you remain frozen in place, your feet betraying you.

"We were together for four years, hyung. She was... everything to me." There's a hollow laugh towards the end of his sentence, but it holds no warmth, no amusement... just emptiness. "I understood why she wanted to break up. And as much as it took everything in me to beg her to stay, I couldn't, because..." He exhales shakily, voice cracking just slightly.

"Because of the pain in her voice. The way she looked... she... she was just so tired." His voice fractures at the edges, the weight of his words pressing into the silence. He pauses, and in that pause, you swear you hear his heart breaking... splintering into pieces too small to ever put back together. 

"I knew she needed to leave, and I couldn't be selfish. I couldn't be the reason she felt trapped."

Your throat tightens as your fingers tremble against the glass you're holding. 

"But, fuck..." His voice is raw now, stripped of every carefully constructed wall. "Knowing all that doesn’t make it any easier. Doesn’t make it hurt any less." he admits, his frustration laced with something devastatingly vulnerable.

Yoongi exhales, thoughtful. "Kook, maybe you should try seeing other people."

"Yeah." Hoseok chimes in gently. "She’s been going on blind dates too. It obviously won’t be the same, but maybe, eventually, you can move on, you know?"

A brief silence follows. Then, Jungkook sighs, a sound so weighted, so utterly resigned, that it feels like the air shifts even around you.

"She can see other people..." he murmurs, voice quieter but tinged with something almost bitter. "Because, in the end, I wasn’t everything she needed." He pauses, and you swear you can hear his breathing hitch before he continues.

"But for me... what’s the point? When everything I need, everything I want... every damn part of me, still belongs to her?"

Your breath stutters.

You press yourself against the wall, as if that could somehow steady the way your knees goes weak. His words crash into you, leaving you wrecked with the weight of the truth he’s spilling so effortlessly.

And god, do you feel like the shittiest person alive.

You want to push the door open, to run to him, to tell him he’s wrong... so fucking wrong because he is everything you need, everything you want as well but somehow you feel like a statue. 

The silence that follows is suffocating, stretching between them like an open wound. And then, after a few agonizing moments, Jungkook speaks again.

"I was going to propose to her."

Your entire world screeches to a halt. The air is sucked from your lungs, your heart lurching into your throat as the words settle in, heavy and staggering.

"What?"  "Oh my god, really?" 

Yoongi and Hoseok's voices overlap, their shock mirroring the storm that rages inside you.

Jungkook was going to propose to you? He was going to ask you to marry him? 

You feel like you've been punched in the gut, like the ground beneath you is crumbling, and yet, you can't move. You can't do anything but listen.

"Yeah..." Jungkook exhales, the word leaving him in a breath so fragile it nearly shatters. "I even got the ring and everything but—" He pauses, a bitter chuckle slipping past his lips. "Like an idiot, I kept holding onto it, thinking I'd wait for the right moment." His voice cracks, the regret seeping into every syllable.

"And because I kept postponing it, I let shit fall apart without even realizing it." A hollow silence follows before he whispers, almost to himself. "I'm such a fool."

Your vision blurs, your fingers tightening around the glass so hard you think it might shatter.

And before you can think, before you can make sense of the storm raging inside you, your feet finally move, carrying you far, far away before your heart betrays you, before the lump in your throat turns into a sob you can't swallow down.

Before you lose the last shred of strength keeping you from running straight back to him.

You push through the crowd blindly, your breath uneven, chest tight as if a vice has wrapped itself around your ribs. 

By the time you reach the bar, your hands are trembling. You barely register the bartender's gaze as you mutter out an order, gripping the counter like it's the only thing anchoring you to the present. 

You promised yourself you wouldn't drink tonight. You swore you'd keep a clear head.

But now?

Now, you need something to burn away the ache in your chest. Something to dull the sharp edges of the truth that just carved its way into your heart.

Jungkook was going to fucking propose to you. He was going to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, bile rising in your throat. How could you not have known? How could you have been so blind... so utterly selfish?

The drink is set in front of you, and your fingers curl around the glass, but you don't lift it to your lips just yet. Your reflection stares back at you from the polished surface of the bar, and all you can see is the face of someone who wrecked the one person who ever truly loved her.

You had convinced yourself that walking away was the right thing, that it was the only choice, the only way to set things right for yourself. 

You believed that by leaving, you were also freeing him... unburdening him so he could fulfill his ambitions, and live a life unchained from the weight of your love.

But all you did was leave him shattered, carrying the weight of an unspoken future... one he had been ready to give you.

A future you never even let yourself consider.

Your hands tighten around the glass, the sting in your eyes growing unbearable.

You never fully understood, not until this moment, just how deeply you had broken him.

Jungkook paces through the hallways, his eyes scanning the crowd in search of you. It feels like an eternity since he last caught a proper glimpse of you, ever since the moment Seokjin had given a tour around his apartment, and you'd slipped quietly out of sight. 

The space around him seems to stretch with the quiet absence of your presence. He just wants to find a way to talk to you, anything that could serve as an excuse to be near you again.

As he rounds the corner, he spots Taehyung, and without hesitation, he approaches him. "Hey, have you seen Y/N?"

Taehyung's brows furrow as he thinks for a moment. "I think I saw her at the bar earlier." he replies, a slight concern in his voice. "She looked pretty wasted."

Jungkook's heart leaps at the information, his eyes widening instinctively. Without a second thought, he weaves through the crowd of guests, heading straight towards the bar.

As soon as he steps into the space, his gaze immediately lands on you. You're hunched over the table and for a moment, he wonders if you've fallen asleep, but just as quickly, you lift your head, mumbling something under your breath that he can't quite make out.

His eyes then fall to the several empty shot glasses scattered in front of you, and his eyes widen.

He knows you... knows how little you drink and this isn't like you at all. You only drink like this when something is worrying you, when you're trying to numb something that hurts far deeper than anyone can see.

"Y/n?" His voice is soft, hesitant, as he approaches. Your eyes, heavy and unfocused, flicker open, barely managing to turn your head in his direction. "Koo?" you slur.

Your voice is thick with inebriation, and you struggle to open your eyes further, but the effort is clearly beyond you. The sight of you like this, makes something inside him break just a little.

"Hey..." His voice is softer now, as he gently reaches for you, bringing his arms to steady you on the stool. Without any hesitation, you lean into him, your head instinctively resting against his chest, your body gravitating towards his warmth like it's the only thing familiar in the whirlwind of your drunken haze.

"Where were you, Koo?... Missed you." you murmur again, your words slurring together, and before he can fully process what you've said, your arms are wrapping around his torso.

Jungkook instantly stiffens and swallows hard, the rush of emotions flooding his chest and god, the proximity is killing him. 

But he knows that right now, his only priority is getting you out of here, away from the alcohol, away from the sharp ache in your eyes that he knows you don't want him to see.

"Let me take you home, Y/n." he murmurs softly. "Come on." he says, his hand gently guiding you upright.

You barely manage to stand, your legs swaying, unsteady. His arm instinctively wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he supports your weight, steadying you as best as he can. 

Together, you stumble away from the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar face to let them know he's leaving with you. But the sea of guests is thick with noise and movement, and no one stands out to him.

With a sigh of resignation, he makes the decision to leave without saying a word to anyone else. 

He leads you out of the apartment, through the hallway, and into the elevator. As the doors close, he steals a glance at you, his heart thundering in his chest as he watches the way you lean into him, your breath soft against his shirt, your fingers still loosely tangled around his waist. 

He wonders, for a brief second, if you can feel how much he's been holding back.

When the elevator doors slide open, Jungkook gently guides you towards his car. His hands are steady, but there's a tremor of care in every motion. You're so drunk, your body pliant, swaying with every shift he makes. 

He helps you into the passenger seat, and you barely register the motion while he puts on your seat belt, your head lolling back against the seat as you blink slowly, fighting to bring your surroundings into focus. The world around you feels disjointed, like it's floating in slow motion.

As the car begins to move, you turn your head to the side, only to find Jungkook in the driver's seat. The sight of him, seems to pull you in, and you want to speak, to ask him something, anything. But the words never form. 

The fatigue in your body gets heavier and the effort to focus slips away like sand through your fingers. Before you even realize it, your eyelids grow heavier, and the world around you blurs into a soft, swirling haze and with a quiet sigh, your eyes flutter shut, the thoughts of what you wanted to say fading away. 

When Jungkook finally pulls the car to a stop right outside your apartment building, he takes a moment to let his gaze linger on you. There you are, asleep, your chest rising and falling with every soft, rhythmic breath you take. 

A quiet smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he watches you and his hand lifts instinctively, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender, as though afraid to disturb the fragile serenity that surrounds you.

For a long moment, he just watches you, lost in the beauty of the silence.

After a while, he exits the car, and then moves to your side, slowly opening the door. With quiet care, he unbuckles your seatbelt, his movements slow and careful so as not to jolt you awake.

But when he looks down at you, he sees how deeply you're sleeping, and he can't bring himself to wake you up and make you walk all the way to your flat. 

Instead, he gently grabs your purse, draping it over his arm before scooping you up into his arms, lifting you as though you weigh nothing.

He kicks the door shut behind him, and with you cradled against him, he walks through the lobby of your building and soon, he steps into the elevator. 

He can feel you stir in his arms, the subtle shift of your body and the faint flutter of your eyes opening just a crack.

When the elevator reaches your floor, he steps out and stands before your door, only to realize with a quiet curse that he needs the keys to unlock it. A soft sigh escapes him, and he carefully lowers you, letting you stand with his support. 

"Give me a minute, baby." he murmurs and the little nickname slips out before he even thinks, but it goes unnoticed by you in your half-conscious state.

He steadies you against him, his hand gently resting on your waist, as he reaches into your purse, fishing out the key.

The moment Jungkook unlocks the door, a soft meow greets him, and his gaze immediately lands on Skittles, who is sitting on the floor, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Hi there, buddy." he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He steps inside, still holding you close and makes sure to close the door behind him, preventing Skittles from darting out into the hallway. As he moves further inside, Skittles follows closely, his little paws tapping softly against the floor. 

Jungkook places your purse on the couch while Skittles' gaze flicks between Jungkook and you, his paws reaching out to gently nudge your feet as you sleepily stumble beside Jungkook, guided by his steady support.

"Your mom's drunk." Jungkook chuckles. "Is this her room?" he asks, his tone playful as he looks down at Skittles. Jungkook tilts his head in amusement, as if expecting an answer, but of course, all he receives is a meow in response.

He decides to trust his gut and push the door open and when his eyes fall on the neatly made bed, the sheets and pillows arranged with a quiet sense of order and the soft scent of lavender in the room, he knows instantly this is where you sleep. 

Carefully, Jungkook helps you to the bed, lowering you gently until you're lying down. As he pulls away, his gaze softens, noticing the faint smudge of mascara beneath your eyes. 

If there's one thing he's learned after living 2 whole years with you, it's that you can't stand going to bed with a face full of makeup.

"Where's the bathroom?" he asks, glancing back at Skittles, who sits idly by the door. Not waiting for an answer, he steps out into the hallway and spots the door next to the kitchen. 

He walks towards it and steps inside, taking a moment to survey the bathroom and his eyes land on a shelf by the sink, neatly organized with all your skincare products and a pang of nostalgia hits him hard. 

It's exactly the way it used to be when you lived with him.

With a soft sigh, he instantly reaches out for the makeup remover. Skittles, ever the curious little companion, follows Jungkook into the bathroom, rubbing against his legs. 

"Any idea where your mom keeps the cotton pads?" Jungkook chuckles softly and just then, his eyes land on the small cabinet right above the shelf. He rummages through it briefly before finding the cotton pads.

Once he has everything he needs, he heads back to the bedroom with Skittles trailing right behind him.

When Jungkook steps closer, he notices the slow, almost languid way your eyelids flutter open, your gaze hazy as it shifts towards him. "Hey..." he greets gently, noticing the faint confusion still clouding your eyes. 

"You awake?" he asks and the way you look at him tell him you're still very much drunk. "Where... am I?" you murmur, the words slurring together as if speaking itself requires too much effort.

"Your room." Jungkook answers with a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, carefully pouring  makeup remover onto the cotton pad and his eyes move back to you, making sure you're still with him. "Close your eyes, let me remove your makeup."

Without hesitation, you comply, your body too weary to resist the simple request. Jungkook watches you, his heart tightening a little as you surrender to him, trust in your eyes even if you're too inebriated to fully grasp the moment. 

He's done this countless times before, back when you lived together, but as he runs the cotton pad over your face, he realizes, almost with a pang, just how long it's been since the last time he did this for you.

"All done." Jungkook says softly after a few minutes, his voice a comforting whisper in the stillness of the room. You slowly open your eyes again, and this time, it's like your vision is finally coming into focus, the fog of alcohol beginning to somewhat clear. 

You shift uncomfortably, a subtle fidget that doesn't escape his notice. The tight dress you're wearing suddenly feels suffocating, clinging to your skin in all the wrong ways. "Wanna change?" he asks, his voice gentle and you nod, the motion small and slow.

Jungkook immediately scans the room, his gaze landing on your closet. He walks over to it and and somehow ends up finding a pair of pajamas.

Once he returns to your side, Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself against the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He forces himself to remain composed, to act like this is nothing more than a simple, routine act... just him, helping you because you're drunk.

But deep inside, he knows the truth. The familiarity of it all stings, each little gesture piercing him with the sharp reminder of how things used to be, back when the two of you were together.

He's done this so many times before, almost as if it were second nature. Taking care of you when you were drunk, helping you remove your makeup after a long, exhausting day. It used to be part of a rhythm, a routine that was comforting in its predictability. 

But now, those moments feel like an ache in his chest because what truly cuts him is how these tender, quiet acts became rarer towards the end of your relationship.

He was always too late, always too tired, always lost in his own world of responsibilities. The simple things he used to do for you were all being pushed aside for something that, in hindsight, never truly mattered as much as you did. 

Once he's done helping you change, Jungkook gently lays you back down on the bed, the blanket settling softly over you as he tucks you in with the tenderness that has always come so naturally to him. 

As he smooths out the blanket, he catches you staring at him. "What?" he asks quietly, his lips curving into a small smile.

"I miss you." you whisper suddenly, the words slipping out like a raw confession, unguarded and fragile. 

Jungkook's heart catches in his throat, his entire body going rigid. He can feel the weight of your words, even if he knows the alcohol is speaking for you.

For a moment, everything stills but he knows he can't give in right now, especially when you're not in the right mind or he'll truly crumble.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally pulls himself together, his voice soft but firm. "Get some sleep, Y/n." he says, though the words taste bittersweet on his tongue. He tries to walk away, but something about the way your gaze holds his makes him hesitate.

However, just as he's about to leave, he feels your fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him back.

You sit up slowly, your movements slow, as you pull him closer until he's sitting on your bed, facing you. As you stare into his eyes, you blink softly, trying to steady the way your insides twist and churn. 

You're not sure if it's the nagging haze of the many vodka shots you downed back at the party or if you're simply losing your mind... but right now, none of that seems to matter.

Without thinking, your body leans forward, the distance between you closing as you let your lips rest lightly on his. 

It's not a kiss, not really, but the mere press of your lips against his is enough to send a shiver through both of you. 

Jungkook's entire being freezes, eyes wide in disbelief, caught between the fog of longing and the clarity of what this moment means.

Oh, how he's missed this. The feel of you, the taste of your lips, the familiar comfort of your presence after all this time. It's like the world is stitching itself back together, making sense again, piece by piece. 

But the moment he starts to melt, he instantly pulls himself back because he knows this isn't right. 

Despite every inch of him craving more, despite the overwhelming ache of wanting to surrender his very being to you, he knows he can't right now. 

Not when you're like this... so vulnerable and extremely intoxicated, likely not to remember a thing tomorrow. It's not fair to either of you. 

He brings his hands up to your shoulders, his grip firm as he gently, but decisively, pushes you back.

"Koo... kiss me...." you whimper weakly, your voice thick with longing, your body leaning towards him again. But this time, he's quicker, catching you before your lips can meet his once more.

"Y/n..." his voice is strained, a quiet plea full of restraint. "We can't."

He stands up abruptly, as if it's the only way to protect himself, the only defense he has against the storm of emotions threatening to consume him. "Go to sleep, Y/n." he murmurs.

Carefully, he eases you back down onto the mattress, tucking the blanket around you once more, ensuring your arms stay inside this time, because if you reach for him again, if you hold onto him like you did before, he might just break.

You pout at him softly, your drowsy eyes still heavy with sleep, and for a fleeting moment, he almost falters. Almost.

But he exhales sharply, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of all his thoughts. "Good night, Y/n." he says, his voice quieter now, almost like he's telling himself to let go.

And before you can say anything, before you can pull him back into something he knows he can't resist, he's out the door.

You scrunch your nose in your sleep as a warm, wet sensation grazes your cheek, followed by a soft, persistent nudge and a low whine escapes your lips. "Skittles..." you groan groggily, weakly attempting to push him away, but his relentless licking persists.

Then, as you shift, a sharp pain shoots through your skull, making you wince. "God..." you mumble, finally forcing your heavy eyelids open. Skittles meows at you, his tail flicking playfully before he leaps off the bed, completely unbothered, like he didn't just drag you out of your deep slumber.

You exhale slowly, forcing yourself upright, but your entire body feels weak, weighed down by exhaustion. You bury your face in your hands, taking a moment to steady yourself against the pounding in your head.

The memories of last night come in flashes as you try to recall just how many shots you had, but the details remain frustratingly out of reach. 

You sniffle softly, finally taking in your surroundings as the haze of sleep begins to fade. Your brows furrow in quiet confusion because all you can think about right now is how did you make it back home last night.

All you remember is overhearing that conversation between Jungkook, Yoongi, and Hoseok and how Jungkook's confession sank into you like stones in the water. The way your stomach twisted, the way your heart raced, and the way you stumbled towards the bar, desperate for something—anything—to drown it all out.

Shot after shot.

That's where the memory cuts off.

The rest is a blur and the gaps in your recollection feel like gaping holes, unsettling in their emptiness. Your gaze drops to the pajamas draped over your frame, and immediately, you just know, there's no way you changed into these yourself.

Your fingers ghost over the fabric, tugging absentmindedly at the hem as you try to piece it all together. Then, your eyes drift towards the nightstand, where your makeup remover sits beside a stack of used cotton pads.

You blink once. Twice.

And then it hits you all at once and a loud gasp leaves your lips.

Did Jungkook bring you home last night?

Your mind reels in panic, a storm of fragmented thoughts crashing into one another. Frustration bubbles up as you grip your hair, willing your brain to cough up even a single memory, at least something that might give you an insight about what truly happened last night. 

But unfortunately, nothing comes up and that's when the dread settles in.

What if you said something weird? What if, in your drunken haze, you let something slip... especially after what you overheard? 

"Fuck." You mutter under your breath, shoving the blanket off and swinging your legs over the bed. Your body protests as you stand, the weight of last night's alcohol still heavy in your system, but you push through the haze, determined to regain some semblance of control.

You step out of your room, eyes scanning the space for your purse so that you can check your phone. When you spot it on the couch and just before your fingers can reach it, the door bell rings. 

Your brows furrow as you glance at the clock. It's a little past 8 and you wonder who's here so early, especially on a Sunday morning. 

With a slight grimace, you run your fingers through your hair in a feeble attempt to fix it, then make your way to the door. Skittles trails behind you, his tail flicking lazily, oblivious to the fact that you're about to open the door to an unexpected visitor.

When you swing it open, your breath catches in your chest.

"Hey." Jungkook greets with a soft smile. He's standing right outside your door in the hallway in his work clothes... his crisp, white shirt, neatly pressed trousers, and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, looking as effortlessly composed as ever.

You blink, caught off guard, before your gaze inevitably drops to the paper bag in his hand and a chill runs down your spine as you notice the familiar logo on it. He catches the direction of your eyes and lifts the bag slightly. "I thought I'd drop by with your favorite hangover soup before heading to work."

Your heart sinks, the weight of his kindness rushing over you. This man... he's really going to be the death of you.

Not only did he bring you home last night, change your clothes, and remove your makeup like it was all his duty, but now he's standing here on an early Sunday morning just before work, offering you comfort as if you were still a part of his life, as if you hadn't shattered everything between the two of you.

He extends the bag towards you, and in that moment, you sense he's only here to deliver the soup and leave and somehow, you don't really like the idea of that. 

"You're not coming in?" you ask, unable to mask the faint trace of hurt in your voice. His eyes widen slightly. "You... want me to?" he asks, the hesitation and confusion evident in his tone. 

You don't trust yourself to speak, your thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and emotions you can't quite untangle. So, instead, you step aside, wordlessly giving him the space to enter, silently hoping that somehow, he understands everything you're too scared to say.

Jungkook gulps as he slowly steps inside but the second Skittles meows at him, his expression softens, a smile tugging at his lips. "We've been seeing each other a lot, haven't we, buddy?" he chuckles, crouching down to stroke your cat, and you can't help but watch with your heart racing as Skittles melts into his touch with such ease.

A few seconds pass, and Jungkook is already heading towards your dining table. You take a seat awkwardly, feeling the tension in the air, as you watch him carefully pull out the container from the paper bag. "Here." he says softly, opening it and pushing it towards you with a spoon. 

You stare at the soup for a few moments, the warmth of it rising up to meet you, before looking up at Jungkook. "Thank you for bringing me home last night." you murmur softly.

Jungkook's lips curl into a gentle smile, his eyes soft as he responds. "You don't have to thank me, Y/n." His words, like a balm, seem to lift the weight in the air, and for a moment, you wonder how this man always seems to magically ease the tension between you, making everything feel just a little bit lighter.

"Please, sit down." you say, a quiet request, and he obliges without hesitation, pulling out the chair across from you and settling into it. 

"Did you have breakfast?" you ask as you proceed to take a sip of the soup, and the moment it hits your tongue, you let out a contented groan. It's almost like your hangover is already melting away, the warmth instantly spreading through your body and soothing the ache in your head.

Jungkook chuckles at your reaction, a soft giggle escaping him, but he answers your question with ease. "Yes, I did."

"You want some?" you ask, gesturing towards the soup with an eyebrow raised, but he shakes his head with a smile. "It's all yours."

You smile back at him, the simple act of him caring somehow comforting. You take a few more sips, savoring the relief, but then a question suddenly nags at you, one that makes your stomach churn. 

"Did I..." you begin hesitantly, unsure how to phrase it. "Did I do anything weird last night?" 

Jungkook stiffens slightly, a brief flash of something in his eyes, but he quickly masks it, not wanting to remind you of anything you might regret. He doesn't want you to hate yourself for it. "No, don't worry." he reassures you, his voice smooth, accompanied by an easy smile that feels like a promise.

You nod at his words, though doubt lingers in the back of your mind. You return to your soup and as the silence stretches between you two, your thoughts begin to drift, and suddenly, the memory of the conversation you overheard back at the party floods your mind.

You find yourself staring at your bowl, lost in the sudden intensity of your thoughts. Your fingers linger on the spoon, and suddenly you have the urge to talk.

"Kook..." you murmur, your voice a little uncertain. You lick your lips, trying to gather your thoughts, before finally meeting his gaze. He hums softly in response, his eyes already fixed on you, waiting for the next words to leave your mouth.

"How have you been?" you ask. He tilts his head slightly, caught off guard by the suddenness of your question. "I realized we never really caught up after the breakup, you know? I never asked how you've been." you explain, your voice quiet but filled with sincerity.

He parts his lips, nodding slowly as he absorbs your words. "Right..." he murmurs. "I've been... okay." he says.

Lies. 

You remember the conversation you overheard last night, the cracks in his voice and the way you could literally feel his pain even through the door. You know the words he's saying aren't true, but you don't call him out for it. 

He hesitates for just a moment, and then his lips part, his gaze never leaving yours. "You?" he asks, the question softer than you expected, as his eyes search yours with a tenderness that's hard to ignore.

"I've been okay too." you reply, but the words feel hollow as they leave your mouth. 

You both know you're lying, but you say them anyway, because it's easier than revealing the truth. Easier than admitting how far from 'okay' you both truly are.  

When you're finally finished with the soup, you stand up as you gather the empty container in your hands but before you can make your way to the kitchen, Jungkook is already on his feet. 

"Let me take that." His voice is soft, almost tender, as he reaches for the container. Your heart flutters as he makes his way towards the kitchen and despite yourself, you find yourself trailing behind him, drawn to his every movement. 

You watch him as he throws the container into the trash right below the sink, and as he washes his hands, each simple action sending waves of emotion crashing into you, stirring a need deep within that you can no longer ignore. 

Your heart aches with a realization so raw, so painfully clear, that you can't hold it in any longer. "You know what..." you begin. Jungkook looks up from where he stands, wiping his hands.

"I'm actually not okay." you say, and the words feel like a confession. He freezes, the towel still in his hands as his lips part. "What?" he asks, but somehow he already knows exactly what you mean.

"I'm not okay, Kook." you repeat, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. A tightness forms in your chest, but it's not just the hurt of the past... it's the ache of the present, of how much you still feel for him, how much you've missed him. You take a breath, and as you look into his eyes, the words come out before you can control them. "I miss you."

He doesn't say anything back, and it feels like the silence is suffocating you. It presses against you like it's crushing the air from your lungs. Your heart pounds so loudly, it feels as though it's thudding in your ears, every beat a reminder of how much you've missed him, how much you've lost. 

Anxiety spirals inside you, a cyclone of fear and confusion, and it feels like you're being pulled deeper into the vortex with every second that passes without him saying anything.

You can't stand it any longer. You can't hold it in. The words are clawing at your throat, desperate to escape, and you open your mouth without thinking. "I know I probably look really stupid right now..." you say, your words stuttered, almost like you're trying to convince yourself more than him. 

You can't even look at him, your gaze falling to your fidgeting fingers instead, trying to focus on something, anything, to distract yourself from the overwhelming emotions crashing over you. "I'm standing here, saying I miss you when... when I was the one who left, the one who ruined everything between us. I destroyed us, Kook. I thought if I just let you go, I would feel better, like it would make the pain go away, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong..."

You pause, trying to catch your breath, but it's like the weight of everything you've been holding back is choking you. The words feel like they're suffocating you from the inside out. The reality of your mistake, the loss of him... it's all too much, and you're drowning in it. 

You glance up at him, but it's too much, too hard to meet his gaze. Your chest tightens painfully, and your hands are shaking uncontrollably, so you keep talking, the words tumbling out faster now, desperate to make him understand.

"I thought if I broke up with you, if I pushed you away, I'd feel less alone but god, I was... I was so wrong. I thought I could do it on my own, but it's worse, Kook. It's so much worse than I ever imagined. I feel empty, like there's this giant hole inside me, and nothing I do, nothing I say, can fill it. I thought I'd be fine, that I'd get over it, but the truth is... I've never felt more lost... I've never felt more broken."

Your voice falters, and you can barely get the words out. You want to stop, you want to shut up before you embarrass yourself, but the dam has broken, and there's no turning back. The tears start to fall, hot and unrelenting, and you wipe at them furiously, but they keep coming. 

"I miss you, Kook." you whisper, your voice trembling. "I miss you more than I can even begin to explain. It hurts so much to admit that I was the one who walked away, to know that I pushed you out of my life when all I really wanted was to pull you closer. And now..." You falter, your voice cracking on the last word. 

"And now, I don't even know how to fix it. I don't know how to—" 

"I miss you too." he finally interjects before you can go any further. "God Y/n, I miss you too. So fucking much." he finally lets out, taking a step closer as he places the towel somewhere near the sink. 

You look up at him, and when your eyes meet, you see something that breaks you all over again. 

His own eyes are glistening, a reflection of everything you've just said, everything you've both been carrying, buried beneath months of silence and pain.

"And it's my fault, Y/n." he says, his voice shaky, as if the words are a heavy weight he's been carrying for far too long. His eyes shine with a mixture of regret and pain, and a tear slips down his cheek, betraying the quiet anguish that has been festering beneath the surface. 

"I should've noticed how alone you were. I should've seen the signs. I should've paid attention to the way you pulled away, the way your eyes... they lost that light when you looked at me. I was too blind, too absorbed in my own plans and the future I wanted to build, that I missed all of it. I missed you." His voice trembles as he shakes his head.

"I was so focused on what was next, on this perfect life I thought we could have together, that I didn't realize how I was hurting you in the process. I didn't realize that the present... our present... was slipping right through my fingers while I was busy building castles in the sky, thinking that the future would somehow fix everything. But it doesn't work like that, does it?" He pauses, his chest rising with a sharp breath as he moves closer. 

"I thought that if I worked harder, made more plans, secured a future for us, then everything else would fall into place. I thought I was doing what was best for us, but all I was doing was pushing you further away. All I was doing was making you feel like you weren't enough, like your needs didn't matter as much as the grand vision I had in my head. And I should've known... I should've known that the moment you stopped feeling seen, stopped feeling heard, was the moment we were already slipping apart." 

Your tears don't stop as you listen to him unravel in front of you but when you part your lips to say something, he speaks again.

"I didn't notice, Y/n. I didn't see it when you started to close yourself off, when the space between us grew wider and wider with every passing day. I didn't see that the silence wasn't just comfortable....it was suffocating. And now, I'm left here, trying to put together the pieces of something I broke." he says as more tears slip out of his eyes. 

"I should've been there for you when you needed me. I should've been there when things got hard, when you were struggling, when you felt like you were carrying the weight of evrything on your own. But I wasn't. I wasn't there, and I regret it every single day." he cries. 

He looks down, his eyes full of remorse, his body tense as if every word is another stone being placed on his chest. "You deserved more than the excuses I gave. You deserved someone who saw you, who loved you for who you were in every single moment... but... I wasn't there when it mattered the most, and I wish with every part of me that I could go back and fix it. But I can't." he says weakly, resting his palm on his chest. 

"All I can do is beg you to give me the chance to make it right. To love you the way you deserve to be loved. To be the person you never had to feel alone with." His hand trembles as he reaches for yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles, every touch like a silent apology. 

"I would do anything for another chance, Y/n. Anything. I would undo every mistake, every moment I took you for granted, every time I failed to see you for the incredible person you are. I just want one more chance to prove to you that I can love you the way you deserve. The way you always should've been loved." His voice breaks, and the rawness of his emotions spills out, uncontained and unashamed. 

"I want to hold you, protect you, cherish you in a way that makes you never question your worth again. I want to love you the way you always deserved to be loved, the way you've always wanted... the way I should've been loving you from the start. I just want to be the one who shows up for you, every single day, without hesitation. I want you to feel like I'm home, not just a place you visit when it's convenient, but someone who is always there, always present, always with you."

His words are a plea, a heart laid bare, and you feel the weight of everything he's saying, every syllable a desperate wish for redemption. "Please Y/n..." he begs, his grip tightening around your hand. "Please give me another chance." 

His gaze never wavers from you and your hand trembles slightly as it reaches up to gently caress his cheek, the warmth of your touch sending a surge of emotions through both of you. 

The moment your fingers make contact, his body softens, and he leans into your hand, his eyes fluttering shut as if your touch alone is enough to revive him, to bring him back from the edge of the ache that has been consuming him.

"I love you." he murmurs softly as he leans further into the warmth of your touch. Gently, he lifts his own hand to place it on yours. "I love you so much." he repeats, turning his head to press a kiss against the delicate skin of your wrist.

He doesn't stop there. One kiss leads to another, each one tender and slow, as though he's savoring the very essence of you. He moves across your wrist, his lips pressing against your skin, until he reaches the tip of your thumb. 

Each kiss feels like an affirmation of everything he's ever felt for you, a quiet vow to never let go, to never make the same mistakes again.

"I love you too." you finally say it back, the words escaping your lips like a fragile confession. His eyes meet yours, glossy with emotion, and in that moment, it feels like time pauses.

A soft smile curves your lips with a tear slipping down your cheek, and in that instant, you take a step closer to him. It's as if the distance between you both has become unbearable. 

The moment your body moves towards his, he leans in and his lips find yours almost instantly and the kiss is slow and tender, like a gentle reinvention of everything you once had. His arms encircle your form as he hugs you, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss.

Your tears blend with his, your arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer as if to merge the spaces between you. His grip on you tightens, like he's afraid you might slip away again, and his lips move against yours with a longing that feels almost desperate.

His lips still claim yours as he walks you backward. The sudden press of the kitchen counter against your back makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue teasing against yours. 

Before you can fully process it, his hands find your waist and he hoists you up onto the cool marble surface effortlessly. Your breath hitches as he places himself between your legs and his hands settle firmly on your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make you shiver.

Still catching your breath, you watch as he tilts his head slightly and with one hand, he reaches up, slipping his glasses off and places it on the counter a little away from you. 

When his eyes meet yours again, you lift your hands to cup his face, your thumbs grazing over the sharp lines of his jaw as you pull him in once more. Your lips meet in a kiss that's slower this time.

Jungkook sighs into your mouth, his hands gliding up from your thighs to your waist as he pulls you flush against him, and you moan into his mouth when you feel his hard on press against your core. 

The sensation is dizzying, a cruel reminder of just how much you've missed him... missed this.

"Fuck..." he exhales against your lips, his voice hoarse and strained. His forehead rests against yours as he fights to catch his breath, but his hands refuse to let go. "If we keep going..." He pauses, jaw clenching as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "If we keep going, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare into his dark, stormy eyes. Licking your lips, you lean closer. "Then don't stop." you whisper. You trail your fingers down his neck, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your touch. "Don't ever stop." 

Your fingers reach the collar of his shirt, tugging at his tie, pulling him closer until there's no space left between you. That's all the restraint Jungkook has left to fight. 

With a sharp inhale, he crashes his lips against yours once more. His hands tighten around your waist as his lips trail from your mouth to the curve of your jaw, then lower... ghosting down your neck.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, gripping tightly as he nips at the delicate skin of your collarbone, sending shivers cascading down your spine. "Kook..." you whimper.

His hands find the waistband of your shorts, fingers hooking onto the fabric and with a firm tug, he slides them down as you lift your hips to help him. A quiet, shaky breath escapes him when he takes in the sight of your soaked underwear.

"God..." he exhales, his voice thick with reverence. His fingers ghost over your thighs, his touch featherlight yet searing. "Let me make you feel good, baby." he murmurs, his voice laced with an aching tenderness. "Let me make it up to you... for everything."

He peels your underwear down with the same patience, watching the way your breath hitches when the cool marble beneath meets your skin, but the warmth of his hands as they settle on your knees quickly replaces it. 

He spreads your legs with a gentle but insistent grip. "Let's get rid of this too." he whispers, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt. In one fluid motion, your shirt and bra are discarded, leaving you completely bare on the kitchen counter.

Jungkook kneels down, now coming face to face with your glistening core. "My pretty girl." he coos, the words drenched in adoration as his lips brush against the inside of your knee. His lips trail higher, a slow, reverent path marked by lingering kisses and teasing nips. 

His hands slide up your thighs, his grip firm yet tender, as though grounding himself in the reality of having you here, of touching you again, of tasting you again. 

The anticipation coils deep within you, winding tighter with every second that passes as you watch him inch closer to where you need him the most. Your core clenches around nothing and your body betrays you as your hips buck forward, seeking him. 

You don't say anything, but he understands like he always does.

A shaky breath leaves you when his lips finally press against your wet entrance, the sensation sending a tremor through your entire being. When he does it again, your head falls back, a broken moan slipping from your lips, fingers threading through his hair as he holds you steady on the counter. 

He groans against you, the sound vibrating through every nerve in your body. "I missed you like this." he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. "Let me show you how much I've missed you."

His tongue slides against you, a hot, wet stroke that sends shivers down your spine. You moan, your hands gripping the cool countertop for support. He explores you with his mouth, teasing and tasting, taking his sweet time. 

He nips and suckles, drawing out the pleasure. One hand leaves your waist as his fingers expertly find your clit. You jolt, a gasp escaping your lips, but he holds you firmly against the counter, his touch both possessive and gentle, urging your legs wider.

He continues his exploration, his touch igniting a fire within you. You find yourself grinding against his face as he devours you, the pleasure way too intense and your moans grow louder as he buries himself even further, savoring every bit of you. 

His nose presses firmly against your entrance, and with each groan that rumbles against your core, stars seem to burst right behind your eyelids.

"Oh god..." you whimper, breath catching in your throat. Your legs tremble but his grip remains firm, his fingers digging lightly into your flesh as he keeps you wide and exposed for him. "Kook...oh my god." 

Your moans only seem to fuel him as he responds instantly with his mouth quickening and his jaw working in perfect rhythm and he instinctively moves one of his hands down to palm himself  through the fabric of his trousers. 

"I'm—" you get cut off by another involuntary moan and the coil of tension in your stomach, wound tight to the point of breaking, finally snaps without warning. A wave of pure sensation washes over you, your body quivering as you release completely into his mouth. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, as he continues the ministrations of his tongue and mouth, savoring every drop of you. 

Once he's swallowed every bit of your arousal, he ascends slowly, pressing soft, reverent kisses along your hips before his tongue flicks out, tracing the delicate curve of your navel. A trail of fire ignites across your stomach as he continues his upward journey with continuous kisses. 

Your hands find purchase in his hair once more, your fingers tightening slightly as he pauses at your breasts. He lingers there, his breath warm against your skin, before placing soft, lingering kisses on the swelling flesh. 

He circles around, exploring every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue and you bite down on your lower lip, the blissful sensations carrying your mind to a realm of pure ecstasy.

"Oh..." you breathe, the sound a sigh of pure surrender when his mouth closes around one of your nipples. He tugs gently, pulling you closer, the intimate contact sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. 

He teases, nipping at the sensitive bud, eliciting a soft cry from your lips. He continues his delicious torment before finally, as if by magic, his lips find yours again.

When you taste yourself on his tongue, a moan escapes your lips as you deepen the kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he instinctively slides his hands beneath your thighs, easily lifting you off the counter. 

He begins to move, carrying you out of the kitchen, your lips never breaking contact. You hold on tight as your fingers tangle in his hair and you sense him making his way directly towards your bedroom. 

He nudges the door close with his back and the next instant, your back meets the plush surface of your mattress. He pulls away, straightening to his full height as his gaze sweeps over you, a smoldering intensity in his eyes. 

 He tugs at his tie, the knot loosening instantly and begins unbuttoning his shirt, the fabric parting to reveal glimpses of the toned physique beneath. The sight of his naked torso, sculpted and defined, sends a jolt of awareness through you. 

 Your thighs instinctively close, your core clenching in anticipation. Had he been spending extra time at the gym these past five months? 

He notices the way you stare, the heat in your gaze, and a knowing smirk curves his lips. He continues undressing until his pants and boxers fall to the floor, freeing his rigid, insistent erection that springs forth.

He moves onto the bed and carefully parts your legs, settling between them. He gazes into your eyes longingly, as if he's trying to convince himself that this moment is real, that you're finally here again. 

"I love you." he whispers, his breath ghosting across your lips. "I love you too." you reply, the words a soft sigh as your fingers instinctively find their place at the nape of his neck.

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. "I don't think I'll last long." he admits, his eyes darkening with desire. "It's been too long. I haven't been inside you for five months." 

You giggle softly and arch your hips slightly like a silent invitation. "Fuck me already, Dr. Jeon." you murmur, the words laced with a playful command that sends a shiver down his spine. Something about the way you say it, the raw desire in your voice, has his mind reeling. 

God, he's missed you so much. 

 "Dr. Jeon, huh?" he smirks, his eyes locking with yours and just then, you gasp softly when you feel him adjust the tip of his cock at your entrance.

He slowly pushes himself inside and a simultaneous moan escapes both of you as he fully sinks into you. "I..." Jungkook chokes out, the word lost in the wave of sensation. "Fuck, I need a minute." he says shakily, his eyes closing as he truly drowns in the feeling of your warmth enveloping him. 

He swears he could fucking explode right then and there.

 "God..." you whisper, your head falling to the side as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. 

He eventually begins to move, his thrusts slow and leisure, as if savoring the long-awaited reunion. His elbows remain perched on either side of your head, providing balance as he begins to deepen his thrusts. 

"Kook..." you moan, the sound a mixture of pleasure and anticipation, as he slowly begins to pick up the pace, each thrust more insistent than the last. The rhythm builds, his hips now moving with a growing urgency, each thrust pushing him further inside, deeper into your core.

He moves his hands to grip your thighs, as if he's trying to fuse your bodies together. "Tell me how good this feels." he commands, his voice a low growl. "Oh god, Kook..." you gasp, your head thrown back as intense waves of pleasure hit you all at once. "It's...it's perfect." 

"Perfect isn't good enough." he murmurs, his eyes burning with desire. His pace quickens, the bedsprings groaning beneath the force of his movements. 

He pulls you closer, his hands now cupping your ass, lifting you to meet each thrust with increasing intensity. You clench around his dick, your pussy swallowing him whole. "You're so tight." he groans, his breath catching in his throat. "So fucking tight." 

He leans down, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulls back slightly, his eyes filled with adoration as he gazes at your body, his hands now tracing the curves of your hips and waist. 

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, his hot breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. "Every inch of you...God, I've missed it so much." He kisses your cheek, the sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room.

"You're all mine." he whispers against your skin and you arch your back, offering yourself to him completely, your body open and receptive to his every touch. 

"I'm all yours." you respond, your voice trembling with desire. He lets out a guttural roar, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

He reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, teasing it mercilessly as he continues to pound into you, the rhythmic pressure building with each thrust. The combination is overwhelming, the pleasure so intense it makes you want to scream and cry at the same time.

"Cum for me, baby." he urges. "Let me feel you cum around my cock." he says. 

And that's all it takes for you to cry out, your body convulsing as you reach your peak, your release echoing through the room, a testament to the raw, untamed passion that consumes you both. 

He doesn't stop, his movements becoming even more frantic as he rides the wave of your orgasm, his own release building rapidly like a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume him. 

He pushes himself deeper, burying himself as far as he can go, and lets out a final, triumphant roar as he spills his seed deep inside you. He collapses against you, his breathing heavy and ragged, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm.

He nuzzles his face against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. You stay like that for a while as both of you try to come down from your highs. His lips pepper soft kisses against your shoulder and neck, as though savoring the moment. 

"Please, don't leave me again." he suddenly whispers. The plea is raw, desperate... an admission of just how much he needs you, how broken he's been without you. 

You feel his heart hammer against your chest, as if it's echoing your own. Your thumb strokes his shoulder blade, offering a silent comfort, a reassurance that, no matter what, you're right here.

He slowly lifts himself off you, eyes searching yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His gaze is softer now, like he's trying to find the right words to bridge the distance between you, to rebuild everything that once felt so broken. 

"Please, don't leave me again, Y/n." he repeats, and this time, his voice trembles, a quiet plea that holds so much more than the words themselves.

"I don't know how to live without you. These five months... god, they were hell for me." He shakes his head, as though trying to shake off the memories of a time so dark, so painful. 

His hand comes up to gently caress your cheek, his eyes filled with the kind of love that only grows after surviving the deepest scars. 

"I'm going to be a better man for you... I promise you, Y/n. I won't let you feel alone again. I swear it, with everything in me. I'll give you all of me... every part of me... and I won't let go. I won't ever let you go again." His words are soft but firm, the promise echoing with a depth of emotion you've always longed to hear, a commitment to love you the way you've always deserved.

You smile softly, your heart swelling with a tenderness that only he can evoke. You crane your neck up, cupping his cheeks with both hands, your touch as gentle as the words you can't quite bring yourself to speak. 

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, a kiss filled with all the understanding, the forgiveness, and the love you've always had for him.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/n." His voice is soft, yet it carries the weight of a lifetime's worth of longing, vulnerability, and certainty. There's something in the way his words wrap around you, settling deep in your chest, like the promise of forever. 

"I want everything with you." he adds, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

You know exactly what he means by that. You remember the conversation you overheard last night, the one that made you realize just how serious Jungkook was about you.

But you don't bring it up, knowing how torn he'd be if he found out you knew. You're certain he wanted it to be a surprise, and now that you're back together, he probably still holds onto that plan, hoping to make the moment unforgettable. 

So, you decide to keep it as your little secret because deep down, you know that it doesn't change what matters most. 

And what really matters is that he truly wants to commit to you, to build a life with you, and that knowledge is enough.

"I want everything with you too." you respond, smiling at him and he instantly returns it with the same warmth as he leans down for a kiss. You melt instantly, pulling him closer until your bare chests are pressed together.

But then, just as you're lost in the moment, the soft scratching sounds right behind your bedroom door catch your attention. Both of you pull away, glancing at the door, already knowing who the little culprit is.

"I think Skittles misses you." Jungkook says, with a laugh. "You think he saw me giving you head on the kitchen counter?" he asks with a smirk.

You freeze for a moment, eyes wide. "I cannot believe we just did that in front of our child!" you gasp in exaggerated disbelief.

Jungkook laughs, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Our child? So I'm officially his dad now?" he asks, tilting his head. You narrow your eyes, lips curling into a playful smirk. "What? You don't want to be?"

"Of course I do." he says quickly, pretending to be offended. "But that means we need to figure out how much child support I owe you for the months I wasn't around? Should I start making the payments in advance?"

You laugh, swatting his bicep playfully. "Oh, you think you can just pay your way out of this? I'm gonna need a little more than cash to make up for all the time you've missed!"

He grins mischievously, licking his lips. "Well, then I guess I'll have to make up for it in other ways." he says, leaning in for a kiss. You laugh, shaking your head in mock disapproval. "You're lucky you're hot, Dr. Jeon."

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

A/N: should i make a drabble where jungkook proposes? let me know !!

my masterlist <3

permanent taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @kimyishin @somehowukook @allie-in-the-moon @nightappple @jksoftii @mimi1097 @yooforeaa @jkaxl @jinglthembalslikethat @puppybunnyjkay @jiijeon97 @ninisica @rerefundslocals @kgamboa11 @lizzikoo @madussthoughts @kelsyx33 @mafersame @yoonstaar @autumnbear @jksusawife (let me know if you wanted to be added !! <3)

[hoperecs]

have you ever tried this one | jjk

⤷ a bloodlines entwined extra

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, smut, and a tiny bit of fluff

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: after attending sabrina carpenter’s show, your boyfriend jungkook wants to try the juno’s position.

—  words: 1,140

—  warnings: strong language, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, doggy style, good old missionary, nipple play, and creampie

—  author’s note: I recently went to a sabrina carpenter’s show, and it gave me a little idea for a drabble. Since i’m very close to finalizing chapter 9, i wanted to give you a little something while you wait for the next chapter. it’s not much, but it’s what i managed to do. i hope you enjoy this little extra ✨many thanks for all your constant support & for patiently waiting for the next chapter ❤️

SERIES MASTERLIST

Jungkook’s name rolls out of your tongue as he’s pounding into you at torturously slow pace. You’re on your knees, your face pressed against the bed, and with your ass in the air. How did you end up like this? Well, sabrina carpenter’s position in juno gave you and your boyfriend some ideas. Her position wasn’t something wild, just a classic doggy style, but it’s a hell of a good position.

Jungkook wants to wreck you so bad, but he also wants to torture you. He chooses the second option and has to contain himself to not harshly pound into you.

His dark orbs look down at the soft flesh of your ass, bouncing each time he slowly rolls his hips against you, and your body moving forward in tandem with his moves. The man behind you is completely mesmerized by the way his cock slips into you, his jaw slightly clenching as it’s getting harder for him to keep this slow pace.     

“Fuck,” he swears, his eyes completely captivated by his dick disappearing inside you.

The sticky wetness created by both your bodies starts to leak down each time his hips roll out, a sticky mess that drives him crazier and that makes him growl.   

“Harder,” you whimper. “You’re too slow, Jungkook.” 

This is just too slow for you. You want him to thrust harder, faster, and deeper. Damn, you don’t want this to be slow. The full moon is happening in a couple of days, and your se drive has only been increasing. Same for Jungkook. None of you seem to be able to keep your hands to yourselves. Add to that, sabrina carpenter suggesting a sexual position on her show, and you have two horny werewolves having sex the second they get home.

“Whatever you want, sunshine,” he answers.

Hearing this cute nickname while sharing a very dirty moment seems like a huge contrast. But you’re definitely not going to complain. You adore when he calls you ‘sunshine’.

Jungkook instantly adapts his pace to your wishes, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. At first, his hands hold your waist tighter—you’re sure that he’ll leave some small bruises—before one of his hands goes up to your breast, pinching at your nipples.

“Your breasts are getting bigger,” he whispers.

“You can thank your son for that,” you tell him.

Since the beginning of your pregnancy, your breasts have double in size. You’ve had to buy new bras as the others were now way too small. It’s something you knew before getting pregnant, but you never imagined they’d get this big.

Jungkook’s other hand moves down to your stomach, softly stroking it.

“Don’t worry, I thank him every day for that,” he whispers.

“You’re dirty,” you answer.

“But you still like me,” he presses a kiss on your back.

“How couldn’t I?” you ask as a smirk grows on his face.

The room is filled with both your moans, his hips hitting your ass and the bed creaking under you. All those erotic sounds make you feel like you’re doing some homemade porn. The title could be something like: “The werewolf king and his pregnant lady.”

Even though you very much like to be doing this doggy style, you want to see his face. You always love to see his face. So, without warning him, you push his cock out of you before laying on your back on the bed and spreading your leg wide for him. A loud groan escapes his swollen lips because of the sudden loss of friction and of the pretty view you’re offering him. 

“Wanna see you,” you tell him before grabbing his cock, pushing it back into your core. 

Since it all happened in seconds, Jungkook thrusts back into you without giving it much thought, quickly taking back his animalistic pace. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer to you. His eyes roam your face while he pounds you like there’s no tomorrow.

“You look like a fucking goddess,” he says before pressing his lips against yours for a sloppy kiss.

“And you look like a damn king,” a smirk appears on your face.

“That’s because I’m the king.”

The wave of pleasure grows so intensely inside you that you start to feel overwhelmed by its power. Your boyfriend keeps hitting a certain spot that has you crying out, your walls squeezing him strongly.

He senses that you’re very close to reaching out your orgasm when you writhe and moan louder beneath him. So, in order to push you closer to the edge, his right-hand goes to your clit to torture you a bit more. 

“Make a mess on my cock, sunshine,” he grunts.  

You whimper while nodding, his pace becoming ever more animalistic. Your eyes lock with his as you want to be looking at him while he gives you an orgasm.

With another few hard thrusts, you’re reaching your high, your chest arching to meet his as you’re completely overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm. You cry his name as your face contorts in pure delight.

You’re clenching so tightly around him, your arousal dripping around his cock and creating an even bigger mess. He keeps thrusting into you, desperate to reach his own high as fast as possible which doesn’t take long because of the sight of you coming under him. 

His hot seed fills your cunt, making you moan at the contact of it with your insides. With harsh thrusts, he pushes his cum deep inside you while moaning like a savage. Your walls keep clenching around him to milk him completely dry before he collapses next to you in bed. 

For a moment, none of you speaks as you’re trying to catch your breath.

“If I wasn’t already pregnant, I guess I would have been tonight,” your face turns to look at him.

He gets closer to you, his large hand resting on your stomach. His eyes look up at you while a bright smile appears on his face.

“Sabrina gave me wild thoughts tonight,” he confesses.

“Me too,” you smile at him. “And the effect of the moon doesn’t help too,” you add.

“Indeed,” he replies. “It’s so damn hard to resist you as the full moon gets closer.”

“Well, I have a solution for you,” your fingers move on his cheeks. “Don’t resist.”

“If I do that, we’d be making love every two seconds,” he laughs. “But I’m a king and you’re a teacher. People rely on us.”

A giggle escapes your lips.

“You’re too wild, Jungkook.”

“Not my fault that you’re a hot and sexy mamma,” he winks at you.

“And you’re a hot and sexy dad,” you reply.

You place your head on his chest, his hands now wrapping around your body before you slowly both fall asleep.

[hoperecs]

LOVENOTES ! ... valentines special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

trying your hardest to avoid valentine’s day, you suddenly find yourself at the center of it when a secret admirer starts leaving notes at your door.

word count. 5.2k words warnings. neighbor au. secret admirer koo (hes giving stalker a little more ngl). wrote this while on my period so if reader sounds like a moody bitch you know why. me highkey lowkey channeling my hatred for valentines day in this. pure filthy smut. protected sex. blowjob. titty fuck !! COWGIRL YEEHAW !! kinda subby jungkook (BACK TO MY ROOTS). kinda dom reader.

ana’s notes. happy valentines day xx !! wrote this one in a few days so its short and sweet (also rushed it so i can get back to my other stuff oops). hope she is still somewhat enjoyable .. heh. keep your comments positive or say nothing at all, besos my babies !!

You hated February.

Maybe it was because you were utterly single. Or maybe it was the bitterness that still lingered after all these years. Your last relationship had ended just days before Valentine's Day, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart and a newfound hatred for the most romantic month of the year.

You despised the store displays overflowing with pink and red, the obnoxious heart shaped balloons, the overpriced bouquets of roses, and the sickly sweet scent of chocolates that seemed to mock you at every turn. Love was everywhere — except in your life.

You fucking hated February!

February 10th, 4 days before Valentine’s Day.

“Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook, your cute neighbor, lived in the apartment across from yours. You weren't exactly close, but there was an unspoken familiarity between you, built on polite greetings and the occasional small talk. He was the only person near your age on this floor otherwise occupied by older residents, making your interactions feel practically inevitable.

"Hey," he greeted back, glancing over his shoulder as he jiggled his key into the lock. "How've you been?"

His voice was warm, casual, like he wasn't in a rush to disappear behind his door just yet.

"I'm good. Haven't been doing much but working," you say, fiddling with your keyring in search of the right one.

Jungkook chuckles, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, same. Feels like that’s all I do lately." Work had been wearing him down too — you could see it in the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he rolled his neck like he was trying to shake off the tension.

"Ugh, tell me about it," you groan, exhaling dramatically. "What about you? How are you? How's Bam?"

"We're good, yeah," he says, perking up slightly at the mention of his dog. "He just goes to daycare while l'm at work, so he surprises me when he actually listens well.”

"How cute!" you exclaim. "Your baby's growing up so fast."

"Stop," he whines dramatically. "He's gonna be my baby forever."

You giggle, finally finding the key you were searching for and sliding it into the lock. As you turn it, Jungkook shifts on his feet, hesitating for just a moment before his mouth betrays him.

"Hey, you doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

The question lingers in the air, casual yet hesitant, like he hadn't really planned to ask it. His gaze flickers to you, gauging your reaction, but you're too busy scrunching your nose in mild distaste as you push your door open.

"Not really my thing," you admit. "You?"

"Yeah, not my thing either," he chuckles breathily, looking down at his feet.

"No flowers or chocolates for either of us, huh?" you tease lightly.

Jungkook smirks, shaking his head. "Guess not."

You step inside, gripping the edge of the door. "See you later, Jungkook."

"See you," he says with a smile, just before you shut your door.

With a deep exhale, you toss your keys and purse onto the kitchen counter, the weight of the day settling into your shoulders as you slip off your heels. The relief is instant, but the irritation still lingers.

Why was everyone so obsessed with Valentine's Day? The heart shaped decorations, the endless conversations about sappy plans and gifts — it was exhausting.

Fuck Valentine's Day. Fuck February.

You groan, running a hand down your face. All you wanted was to get through the month without being constantly reminded of how single you were.

Was that too much to ask?

February 11th, 3 days before Valentine’s Day.

Work ends the next day — neither good nor bad. It just ends. The hours blur together, another day checked off the calendar. But the one thing you are sure of? You’re more than ready to get out of this pencil skirt and heels and sink into a nice, warm bubble bath.  

The elevator ride up to your floor is quiet, and you shuffle toward your apartment, already mentally unwinding. But something stops you in your tracks.  

A bouquet of roses sits on the ground in front of your door, deep red petals almost glowing against the dull hallway lighting. An envelope rests beside it.  

Flowers for you. – Ian

Ian… 

You stare at the note, brows furrowing. There was no one named Ian that you knew. No one on this floor by that name either — at least, not that you were aware of. And you weren’t in the mood for some weird mystery admirer situation. You turn it over as if more context might magically appear. But there’s nothing — no last name, no explanation, just those three little words.

With a huff, you unlock your door and step inside, kicking off your heels with a sigh of relief the second you're through. The roses are still clutched in your hand, their scent lingering in the air, but you don’t bother appreciating them. Maybe these were sent to the wrong door. Some poor soul was probably expecting a grand romantic gesture, and now their flowers were here, at your feet.  

Not your problem.  

You glance at the bouquet one last time before scooping it up and marching straight to the trash can. With zero hesitation, you drop the roses inside.

Sorry to whoever was supposed to receive them — should’ve given Ian the right apartment number.

February 12th, 2 days before Valentine’s Day.

Just like yesterday, something was lying by your door. This time, a box of chocolates.  

After just coming back from the gym, sweaty and exhausted, you were just as over this as you were yesterday. If anything, it was even more annoying now.  

You sigh, scooping up the box and envelope before unlocking your door. The weight of exhaustion clings to your body, the post workout soreness settling in. You step inside, kicking the door shut behind you with more force than necessary, and set your keys and water bottle on the kitchen counter.  

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the envelope. You should shower. Eat something. Do literally anything else. But instead, curiosity — or maybe irritation — gets the better of you, and you rip open the note. 

The handwriting inside is neat, precise — almost too careful, like every letter was written with intention.  

Something sweet for someone even sweeter. – Ian

So… Ian was persistent.  

You scoff, grabbing the chocolates and tossing both the box and the note straight into the trash without a second thought. For all you knew, this person could've been a psycho, and you sure as hell weren't going to risk getting poisoned.

Shaking your head, you make your way to the bathroom, stripping off your gym clothes as you go. The hot water is already running by the time you step in, steam curling around you, but even as the warmth soothes your sore muscles, your mind keeps turning.

Who the hell is lan?

Maybe it was someone from a different floor. But that didn't explain how they knew exactly which apartment was yours.

No, whoever it was has been watching you.

February 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day.

It's different this time.

No chocolates. No bouquets. Just an envelope.

A single, unassuming envelope resting against your door like it had been waiting for you.

You grunt as you bend down, fingers hesitating for half a second before you rip it open, right there in the dimly lit hallway.

The answer is right in front of you. – lan

A slow, creeping unease washes over you. Your eyes flick up, scanning the hallway, suddenly hyper aware of how empty it is. The silence feels heavier now, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly.

Right in front of you.

Your breath hitches as you turn your head, your gaze landing on the only thing in front of you.

Jungkook's door.

No fucking way.

You hesitate.

You could just pretend you never figured it out. Walk inside, close the door, and let Jungkook keep thinking you were oblivious. Maybe it would be easier that way — to let him stew in his own nerves, to pretend you were just some ditsy neighbor who never connected the dots.

But he was cute. So, so cute.

And that was enough to make you lift your hand and knock.

The door swings open within seconds, like he'd been waiting on the other side.

Jungkook blinks at you, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

"It's you," you say, holding up the note between your fingers.

A breathy laugh escapes him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

He'd been watching you through the peephole this whole time, waiting.

Jungkook practically knew your schedule — when you left for work, when you got back, the perfect window to sneak out, place his little surprises by your door, and disappear before you could ever catch him in the act.

It was him. All this time.

Jungkook was Ian.

You stare at him, expression unreadable as he leans casually against the doorway, a lazy, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"Thought you'd never figure it out," he says, eyes flickering to the note still pinched between your fingers. "Had to give you a clue."

"How was I supposed to know it was you?!" you exclaim, waving the note in his face. "And what's the deal with lan?"

Jungkook leans against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. "Fake name," he admits with a small smirk. "Thought it'd be fun. Didn't realize you were this clueless, though."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Well, sorry I was too busy thinking I had some creepy stalker to suspect it was my neighbor."

His smirk falters slightly, and he scrunches his nose. "Right... yeah, that part wasn't my best move." He shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I apologize on my behalf. I probably should've kept the letters a little less terrifying."

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, you think?"

Jungkook grins, tilting his head slightly. "But now that you know it's me... can I ask again what you're doing tomorrow?"

You smile, a little too amused. Girly, even. "I told you, Jungkook. Not really my thing."

He exhales dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like you've just wounded him. "How can I make it your thing?"

You bite back a laugh, shaking your head as you turn on your heel and walk toward your door. “Goodnight, Jungkook."

"Really?" he asks, almost desperately.

You pause at your door, glancing at him over your shoulder. "My favorite flowers are lilies," you say simply, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

Jungkook watches you, lips parting slightly like he wasn't expecting that answer. Then, he exhales a quiet laugh, tonguing his cheek. "You're unbelievable."

You shrug, a satisfied little smirk in place. And with that, you slip inside, shutting the door behind you — leaving him standing there, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time, February didn't seem so awful.

February 14th, Valentine’s Day.

You woke up today not absolutely hating it. Which was crazy. Because usually, the moment you remembered it was Valentine's Day, you'd launch into an internal monologue about how stupid, overhyped, and downright annoying this holiday was.

But today? Today was different.

You'd gotten dressed with a little more care, taken your time with your makeup, and even picked out a cute outfit. Now, in the kitchen, seamlessly baking cookies, you spot something slip beneath your apartment door.

Your lips twitch into a smile.

Quickly, you set the pan on the stove, turning off the oven before rushing over. You scoop up the envelope, fingers tearing it open with far more excitement than the past few days.

Your heart does a little flip as your eyes scan the words inside.

Be my Valentine? – Jungkook

Squealing, you completely neglect the cookies as you rush to his apartment. You barely wait a second after knocking twice before the door swings open.

Jungkook stands there, dressed simply — jeans and a shirt — but his hair is styled, and in his hands, he holds a bouquet of pink lilies.

His smile is boyish, teasing. "Yes?"

You beam at him, heart racing. "Yes." You take a step closer. "Yes, yes, yes.'

And then, before you can overthink it, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him.

Jungkook grins against your lips, pecking them once more before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are warm, filled with something soft, something you think you could get used to.

"Come," he says, lacing his fingers with yours. "I wanna show you something."

He sets the lilies down on the counter, just for a moment, before taking your hand again and leading you down the hallway of his apartment. The quiet hum of the space feels different now — charged with something exciting, something you didn't expect.

He stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a room that takes your breath away.

Rose petals scatter across the floor, leading to the bed. The curtains are shut, dimming the room into a soft, intimate glow. Candlelight flickers from every corner, casting warm, golden shadows on the walls.

It's romantic in a way that feels like it could be a dream, but it's real. And it's all for you.

"I would've never pegged you for the romantic type," you tease, your smile playful as you look up at him.

He smirks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try..." he says, almost shyly.

He sounds humble, as if he hadn't spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect — setting up every little detail, making sure nothing was out of place. Even dropping off Bam at his brother's house so there'd be no distractions.

Your smile deepens, and you reach for his hand, gently pulling him toward the bed. "Well, I'm glad you did."

As you guide him closer, your heart beats a little faster. The room feels smaller now, with just the two of you in it, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows that make everything seem more intimate.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes darkening with desire, a playful curve to his lips as he watches you.

You nod, humming in response, your fingers lightly brushing his chest before you gently push him to sit on the bed. His hands rest on the mattress, steadying himself as he looks up at you, his gaze almost too intense — wide eyes, glossy with something hungry and eager, like a desperate puppy awaiting a command.

"I think you deserve something in return, don't you think?" you ask, your voice dripping with sweetness and something more, something sultry.

His breath hitches, a nervous tension creeping into his expression as he stutters, "W- we don't have to..." His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, a mix of hesitation and desire.

You smirk, moving closer, your fingers grazing along the fabric of his shirt. "Oh, come on..." you press, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath on his skin. "Don't you wanna open your present?"

His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see his resolve starting to crumble. The space between you feels charged, and with that one simple question, everything shifts.

You grab his hand, guiding it to the hem of your slip dress, your fingers curling over his as you urge him to pull it up. His breath hitches, and he obeys without hesitation, dragging the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your thighs inch by inch. With your help, the dress finally slips over your head and pools at your feet, forgotten. Your breasts bounce slightly in the confines of your red lingerie, the delicate lace pressing against your flushed skin, a sinful contrast that has his gaze darkening with desire.

You climb onto his lap, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of him. His hands settle gently on your thighs, warm and steady, but you want more. Grabbing his wrists, you guide them lower, pressing his palms firmly against the curve of your ass.  

"Go ahead," you whisper, lips brushing his ear. "I'm all yours."  

A low moan slips from his mouth as his grip tightens. His fingers trail upward, skimming the curve of your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra. With practiced ease, he unhooks it, the straps slipping from your shoulders as the lace falls slack against your skin. You slide it off completely and toss it aside, where it joins the heap of your discarded dress.

"You're so pretty," he breathes, almost whining, his voice dripping with desperation. His fingers flex against your bare skin, and before you can respond, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss.  

It’s all heat and urgency — the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands roam, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch you first. His grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the way his heart pounds just as wildly as yours.

Suddenly, you're slipping off his lap, sinking gracefully to your knees in front of him. His breath hitches, eyes dark with anticipation as he watches you settle between his legs.  

Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. Down, past his firm abs, until you reach his belt. You toy with the buckle, teasing, letting your nails scrape lightly against the leather before you start to undo it, dragging out the moment just to see him squirm.

You make quick work of his belt, unfastening it with a deliberate slowness that has him shifting in anticipation. Then, you tug at his jeans, dragging them down along with his boxers in one smooth motion.  

The moment he's freed, his cock springs up, thick and aching, the tip flushed and already leaking. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, his hands gripping the sheets like he’s barely holding himself together.

His cock is so pretty — long, thick, and flushed a deep, needy red. It twitches under your gaze, and you swear you hear him let out the softest whimper.  

Since you had the audacity to throw away his roses and chocolates, it’s only fair you make it up to him. And what better way than giving him a night to remember?  

You start slow, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling the heat of him pulse against your palm. Your thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the precum before you lean in, lips barely grazing him. Then, with a teasing flick of your tongue, you kitten lick the head, tasting him, savoring the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You take him deeper, your lips stretching around his thickness as you sink down slowly, inch by inch. The weight of him on your tongue makes your thighs clench, and the deep groan he lets out only fuels the heat pooling in your belly.  

His hands fly to your hair, fingers threading through the strands before he gathers them into a makeshift ponytail. He tugs just enough to make you hum around him, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.  

"Ah fuck," he breathes, his grip tightening, his hips twitching like he’s holding back from thrusting deeper.

You take him in until you reach your limit, his tip pressing against the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe through your nose, adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. Then, with a deliberate squeeze of your throat, you swallow around him.  

The reaction is immediate — his whole body jolts, a shudder running through him as a deep, broken moan spills from his lips. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip almost desperate as he fights the urge to push deeper.  

You bob your head a few more times, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him in deep before pulling off with a wet pop. A thin string of spit connects your lips to his flushed tip, and without breaking eye contact, you let it drip onto his cock.  

Wrapping your hand around his slick shaft, you start stroking him, slow and deliberate. The obscene, squelchy sounds echo in the room, mixing with his sharp breaths. His cheeks and ears burn crimson under the dim lighting, and when his hooded eyes finally meet yours, they’re filled with nothing but pure admiration — and need.  

Shifting on your knees, you move closer, the heat of his body radiating against your own. Then, without warning, you do something that catches him completely off guard.  

You grab your breasts, cupping the soft flesh in your hands, and press them together as you lean down, sliding his cock right between them.  

“Oh, gosh,” he moans breathily, his head falling back. His hands grip the sheets beneath him, knuckles turning white as he struggles to ground himself.  

A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips. “You like this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you press your breasts tighter around his cock, moving up and down to create that delicious friction.  

His chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Yes,” he moans, voice rough, almost wrecked. “Fuckin’ love it.”  

His eyes flicker down, hooded and heavy with desire, watching intently as your perfectly manicured fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, pressing them tighter around his cock. The way he glides so easily between them, warm and slick, like he was made to be there — it’s intoxicating. Addictive. And he never wants it to end.  

His breath stutters, his chest rising and falling in ragged pants as he forces himself to keep watching, to burn the image of you into his memory. Every sinful, wet glide. Every soft squeeze of your hands. It’s too fucking good.  

Then, his control begins to slip. His hips twitch, then jerk, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him, unable to hold back any longer. The spark of restraint he’d been holding onto is thinning, unraveling fast, and now he’s moving on pure instinct, desperate for more. His palms press into the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets as his hips start moving, bucking up into the tight warmth of your breasts. It’s slow at first, a gentle roll of his hips, as if he’s savoring the feeling of your soft skin gliding around him.  

But he’s losing himself, second after second. His restraint is slipping, his movements growing more desperate, more needy. The slick sounds of his cock sliding between your tits fill the room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the occasional shaky moan that escapes his lips.  

“You wanna cum?” you ask, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes — such a contrast to the sinful way you’re working him.  

“Yes!” he blurts out, voice strained and desperate. His grip on the sheets tightens, his hips jerking up a little harder, chasing the friction. “So fucking bad!”  

His chest heaves, abs flexing with each ragged breath as he watches you, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s right there — at the brink of his release, barely holding on, waiting for you to give him permission to fall apart.

But you don’t let him.  

Instead, you pull away, leaving him aching, throbbing, desperate. A strangled whine escapes his lips as his cock twitches in the empty space where your warmth once surrounded him. His hands flex against the sheets, like he wants to grab you, to pull you back, to demand you finish what you started.  

But before he can, you rise to your feet and climb back onto his lap, your lips crashing into his in a searing, breath stealing kiss. He groans into your mouth, rough and frustrated, his hands immediately finding your hips, gripping them so tightly you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.  

He’s all anguish, all need, kissing you like he’s trying to take back the pleasure you just ripped away from him. His tongue is desperate, his teeth grazing your lips, his hips bucking up into you on pure instinct. He’s losing his mind, and you love every second of it.

You grab the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin before tugging it up and over his head. He barely hesitates, lifting his arms to help you before tossing it aside, letting it join the mess of discarded clothes on the floor.  

With a frustrated grunt, he kicks off his jeans completely, leaving him bare and exposed, his cock still aching, flushed, and desperate for relief. His eyes stay locked on you, dark and heavy with lust as he shifts back onto the bed, settling against the pillows.  

You strip yourself from your panties before you climb onto the bed, straddling him with ease, your thighs bracketing his waist. His cock, hard and heavy, nudges against your thigh, smearing precum against your flushed skin.  

“Condom?” you ask.  

Without hesitation, he reaches over to his nightstand, yanking the drawer open. His movements are hurried, almost frantic, as he grabs a foil packet from the box inside. The crinkle of the wrapper fills the space between you as he rips it open with his teeth, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, dark and filled with anticipation.

He rolls the condom just over the tip, his breath shaky, but before he can finish, you take over. Your fingers brush against his as you grasp the base of his cock, sliding the latex down slowly, teasingly, making sure it fits snugly around his thick length.  

Then, with a steadying breath, you adjust yourself over him, holding his cock by the base as you position yourself just right. The anticipation is thick in the air, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin — though you both know he’s barely holding himself together. Slowly, you sink down, taking him inch by inch, feeling the way he stretches you open. The delicious burn has you both gasping, your breath hitching as pleasure overtakes you. Beneath you, Jungkook moans, his jaw clenched as he fights to keep control, his fingers pressing bruising marks into your hips.  

Your hands find their way on his broad, sweaty chest, fingers splayed across his firm muscles as you start to move. Lifting up just enough before sinking back down, rolling your hips in a way that has him cursing under his breath.  

As the stretch becomes more comfortable and your pussy grows wetter, the glide becomes effortless, letting you move with ease. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mingling with both of your breathy moans.  

You start bouncing faster, your rhythm picking up with each passing second. His cock drags against your walls just right, hitting that spot that makes your back arch, your nails digging into his chest.  

“You’re so fuckin’ big, baby,” you moan, your voice breaking with every bounce, pleasure shooting through you with each movement.  

Beneath you, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh — flustered, shy even. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as if your words are too much for him to handle. He doesn’t say anything back, just exhales shakily, completely overwhelmed by the way you feel wrapped around him.  

You push yourself up from his chest, hands moving behind you to plant firmly on his thighs, changing the angle. The shift makes everything deeper, makes his cock hit spots that have your head tilting back, a sharp moan escaping your lips.  

His hands roam up your waist, his fingers spreading wide as they slide up to your tits. He palms them with reverence, his touch almost hesitant at first, before he gives in, squeezing, kneading, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples. His breath stutters beneath you, his head pressing back into the pillows, completely lost in the way you feel.

One of his hands slowly makes its way down, his fingers grazing over your stomach before his thumb finds your clit. The first touch is gentle, testing, but when he feels the way you shudder above him, the way your walls flutter around his cock, he starts rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves.  

A sharp gasp escapes you, your thighs trembling as the pleasure intensifies. “Jungkook-” you whimper, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as your movements start getting sloppy, more frantic.  

He just watches you, completely mesmerized. His breath is ragged, his brows drawn together in pure concentration as he works you closer to your high, his thumb pressing down a little harder, rubbing faster, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your bouncing.  

His cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside you, and with his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit, the pleasure swells uncontrollably. It’s too much — all consuming, dizzying, rushing over you faster than you expected.  

Sensing the closeness of your release, Jungkook plants his feet against the mattress, gripping your waist tighter as he thrusts up into you. His pace stutters, his hips snapping up with more urgency as he nears his own breaking point, chasing the same high that you were.

At that exact moment, you clench tightly around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, intense and electrifying. It’s as if everything pulses in rhythm, the shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you. At the same time, he’s driven to the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting deep inside the condom, his body trembling as his release mixes with yours.

You both ride out your highs, your bodies trembling together as the room fills with your breathy moans, the sound thick with pleasure. Each shudder, each gasp, echoes in the stillness, a shared moment of pure connection and release.

Once the pleasure starts to subside, you gently pull yourself off of Jungkook’s softening cock, settling beside him. He removes the condom with a quick, practiced motion, tying it up before tossing it into the trash beside his nightstand. With a soft sigh, he reclines back, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your chest. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly massaging his scalp as the two of you linger in the quiet, comfortable warmth of each other’s embrace.

“Thank you for today,” you say softly, your voice laced with gratitude.

Jungkook lifts his head from your chest, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His smirk is playful as he teases, “Is it your thing now? Or should I have Ian sending you flowers and letters every year from now on?”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Maybe have Jungkook send them instead, yeah?”

He hums in thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Noted,” he says with a grin before leaning in, capturing your lips in another sweet kiss. He pulls back slightly, a playful spark in his gaze. “So, how about dinner and a movie?”

You sit up, a teasing smile forming as you push him back by his chest, then straddle him once more. You lean down, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “I was thinking maybe round two.”

He chuckles, a low sound of amusement escaping him as his hand reaches for another condom in the drawer. A playful glint dances in his eyes as he prepares for what’s to come.

Oh yeah, Valentine’s Day was most definitely your thing now.

© voyter 2025, all rights reserved.

[hoperecs]

ending two to "beast of busan"

second alternate ending to "beast of busan" @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @investedreader @minshookie29 @chimmy-licious @bangtans-momma @yunhoswrldddd @whipwhoops @curse-of-art @annafarrr

word count: 9.491

warning: obsessive behavior, yandere themes/elements, smut, unprotected sex, stockholm syndrome, creampie, dirty talk, non-con/dub-con, manipulation/mind-manipulation, character deaths/violence, blood, public sex, jungkook's a real yearner, shower sex, oral (f/m), fingering, squirting,

valentine's day masterlist | alternate ending (one)

As patient as Jungkook was, you were stubborn. But, it took merely 3 months for Jungkook to break you. The privileges you once held were stripped away from you. 

Jungkook was serious about breaking you the old fashion way. If you weren’t going to listen then so be it. 

Jungkook had locked you in another bedroom - one with no windows or lights. He decided when you would come out and it was only to bathe. You ate in the room alone and you often spent your own time in said room. 

Jungkook hadn’t spoken to you often, either. He would only say simple sayings - “shower time”, “dinner time”, “bed time”. 

As time went by, you realized just how cold the room was. How lonely. You would hear Jungkook right outside the door whenever he cooked or strolled by. You pondered what he was doing most days as it wasn’t spent around you. You could hear the faint sounds of the television or even music. At times, you would hear Jungkook’s melodic voice as he sang.

The third month - unbeknownst to you -  was when you cried pure tears of sadness and despair. You were lonely. You’ve gone to human interactions to none at all. The sane part of you would have told you to stand up and fight your ground, but you were weak now. You don’t know when the last time you saw the sun or breathed fresh air and it was driving you crazy. 

Jungkook had gently patted your head when you fell to your knees and begged him to take you out of the room. It hurt him to have to punish someone he loved, yet you weren't much of a listener. You had to go through such a heinous punishment for you to realize how privileged you once were.

“Feel better?” Jungkook asks as he allows you to sit underneath the sun. It’s hotter than you once remembered it being. There isn’t a cool breeze like last time you were out - naked and determined to run away. The breeze is warm, flowers blooming around you and Jungkook.

“Yes.” you nod in agreement, eyes darting around the scenery. The tree’s are a brighter shade of green, vibrant. There’s bushes and flowers that now formed as winter has ended and spring has arrived. 

“My Y/N…”

Jungkook takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of your palm. 

“Isn’t it peaceful out here? Nothing to worry about.” Jungkook mutters.  “No loud cars or people to ruin the scenery. No drama. Nothing but you and I.”

Your eyes blink a few times at Jungkook. He grips your hand in his own and the sane part of you is saddened that you missed his touch. 

Yet, you’re unsure just when that part of you was going to return. You didn’t want to return to the cold, dark room. You didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts anymore. You wanted to feel the sun on your skin and inhale the fresh scent of spring. You wanted to savor the human touch Jungkook provided.

Jungkook witnesses the shift in your eyes and slowly, he begins to smile. Not just because he managed to break you exactly the way he intended to. But because now you truly understand. Your mind is processing that all you had to do was be submissive to Jungkook. Do as he says and in return, you’d have it all. You’d eat well. You’d be treated well. You’ll get to feel the sun on your skin and inhale the fresh scent that the outdoors provides - but not if you disobey him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook’s ears perk when he hears your voice - meek and soft. Slowly, his attention turns back to you fully and he tilts his head.

“You don’t need to apologize, my love.” Jungkook squeezes your hand in his own, satisfied with your willingfulness. His heart jolts a bit with anticipation. “As long as you know now that this is our life.”

You’re silent, your eyes roaming around the spring scenery. There’s a breeze in the air that isn’t like the cold one that you felt prior to being locked into the room. Time had carried on while it appeared to go excruciatingly slow in the bedroom. It causes your mind to break along with your heart. You didn’t want to go back in there and miss out - even if it was just you and Jungkook, at least you wouldn’t feel lonely.

Slowly, your eyes turn back to Jungkook and you nod your head, breaking out into a small grin. It appears, on Jungkook’s end, like a grimace - but he was alright with that! He understood your concerns entirely and knew that eventually, you’d grow to love him just as much as he loved you.

“It’s beautiful out here, right?” Jungkook inhales a bit. “Right through there,” Jungkook begins, jutting his head to the sight where there was an opening between the trees. “I like to go and sit by the lake. It’s a bit of a walk, but I can take you.”

Your curiosity peaks and you nod your head without much thought. “I’d like that.” you murmur with ease. Whatever it took to continue to inhale the fresh scent of freedom.

“Good. Wait here.” Jungkook’s eyes zone in on your face and he lets go of your hands. He wouldn’t call this a test to be exact. He was sure you wouldn’t run away if he went into the home for a moment - because that meant you would only be found and forced back into the locked bedroom for another three months.

Jungkook was right when he returned to find you waiting for him in the same spot. When you hear his footsteps creep back onto the wooden porch, your attention turns to him. 

“Here, my love, hold this.” Jungkook holds out what appears to be a lunchbox for you to carry, while he’s holding a black duffle bag around his shoulders. “I thought we’d have a picnic.”

Jungkook’s bright-eyed stare and thin-lipped smiles causes you to smile in return, a warm feeling going throughout your body. Slowly, you nod your head and take the lunch box. It is only a bit heavy and you ponder what Jungkook had to pack in such a short amount of time. Maybe it was already packed - he stated he goes to the lake often. 

Without thinking, your hand finds Jungkook’s and you entangle your fingers with his. You stand close to him as he leads you through the tree’s. As you and he venture deeper, you notice just how tall said tree’s were. How close together they begin to feel as you and he strolled deeper within them. Eventually, you note that there isn’t much of a path and Jungkook travels through memory - one you aren’t familiar with in the slightest.

“Are you alright?” Jungkook asks. “You’re squeezing my hand.”

“Sorry.” you mumble. You hadn’t realized you were doing that and immediately loosen. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do.” Jungkook lifts both of your hands and kisses yours. “I know this area like the back of my hand. I know where to avoid and where it is safe.”

You nod your head a bit. Your head lifts up to see that even though it was the middle of the day, the tree’s cause only little light to shine through them. 

You swallow back your nerves, your mind wandering back to months ago when you attempted to escape and just what would’ve happened if you came into this area. You wouldn't have known where to run - unsure where the safe haven.

“Here we are.”

The lake comes into view. The large body of water appears to be still from afar, the surrounding land and tree reflecting off of the water. Jungkook stops about ten feet away from said water and drops the duffle bag and your hand. He turns towards you and offers a short wink. “No one else comes here, so we’re good.”

Jungkook seats himself onto the grass and you do the same. It itches against your skin, but it was a feeling you needed to become accustomed to.

You looked out into the lake, finding that it was enjoyable to just stare - even at nothing. The surroundings were quiet and calm, a relaxing aura surrounding you and Jungkook.

“Do you want to paint?”

Your attention turns back to Jungkook. He had opened the duffle bag and you notice that it’s full. Your eyes catch on several types of paint brushes and paints; all used. Some paint jars are covered with dried paint around them and the brushes are cleaned, yet stained with old paint. 

“You…paint?” you asked with a blink.

“Yes?” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression on your face. “Murdering people isn’t my only hobby.”

You try not to look shocked by his idea of a joke and slowly you nod your head. “I-I like to paint.” you say softly. “I’m not very good at it.”

“At what? Painting?” Jungkook questions, gathering all the supplies out from the duffle bag. He has several small canvases and you couldn’t help but ponder where all of this came from. You didn’t see him travelling to any stores or shops to get them and did he even have actual money?

However, you find that things were easier when left unsaid. You never questioned how the food appeared to be endless. How the water was always functional and hot and the electricity continued to work. This would be another mystery.

“Yes. I’m not very good at art.” Your hand grasps the canvas Jungkook hands you. “It was one of my least favorite classes in school.”

“What?” Jungkook snorts with a shake of his head. “Art is…well all around us.” he says, waving his arms around to the scenery. “Art doesn’t have to be conventionally beautiful. It’s whatever you make it.”

You blink at Jungkook once more. He appears to be happy to talk to you about…art. You hum, nodding your head. It was weird to think that someone like him enjoyed art.

This is how you found yourself for the next few hours; sitting besides Jungkook as you and he painted. He was better than you and made little to no mistakes. If he did, he would fix them easily. While you and he decided to paint the forested mountain and lake before you, his was amazing - something out of an art exhibit.

Yours…you were sure a child could do better. 

But, dare you say, you found yourself having fun with Jungkook. The atmosphere was calming, a light breeze in the air. The sun was high in the sky, but didn’t radiate harsh heat. The birds chirped around you, even if you couldn’t see them anywhere. Nature was beautiful - and you enjoyed it with Jungkook.

“Why do you kill people?”

It was a random question that slipped out as you and Jungkook ate. The strawberries he packed are fresh and the sweetness causes your taste buds to jump. Jungkook fed you, of course, but he made sure not to spoil you. He wanted you to understand that the sweets and snacks were a luxury that you were only allowed to have whenever he saw fit.

Jungkook blinks. He stops chewing on for a bit as he processes your question. He’s silent for so long that you think he’s only choosing to ignore you.

“I haven’t killed anyone since the day I broke out of that hospital.” Jungkook states, swallowing before grabbing a bottle of water and downing at least half of it. 

“I know.” you say, but you don’t really. You haven’t asked about the nurse and you could only hope she was alright. You’ve been locked in that room for months and you barely know what day it is. He could have slaughtered anyone and you’d be oblivious.

Jungkook hasn’t, of course. Missing people in an area like this would only cause suspicion.

“It’s the reporter in you that wants to know, huh?” Jungkook questions with a twitch of his lip. “You don’t believe what I said in the interview, my love?”

You inhale deeply. Jungkook had said a lot but also nothing at all. You didn’t get to the route of why Jungkook was a serial killer. Everyone had a starting point, right?

“I believe there’s more to the story.” you finally respond.

“Is that so?” Jungkook hums. “Are you afraid of me?”

The question is followed by eerie silence. The lake is unmoving. No birds flying high above in the sky nor are there any sounds of hiding insects in the wind. 

“I’m afraid of what you could do to me.” you murmur. “...Like locking me in that room.”

Jungkook leans forward to come closer to you. “As long as you listen, baby, you’ll have freedom. We can come here whenever you like.” he says. His hand reaches out to touch yours. His is warm and on the back of it has a splat of dried acrylic paint. “If you continue to disobey me, Y/N, I have no choice but to punish you.”

Your mind replays his words over and over again. As long as you listened…as long as you didn’t disobey him.

“There isn’t a reason you kill, is there?” you don’t remove your hand from his, nor do you go to push yourself away to be rid of his intense stare. “You…most people they kill to see what it’s like to take a life.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “I suppose you’re correct.” he states.  “I’ve killed this kid that was a few years older than me…I was around 11.”

Jungkook’s eyes zone onto you to witness the reaction you’d give. Your breath hitches a bit, but you’re unmoving.

“He was an asshole.” Jungkook continues. “He bullied everyone. He…” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I grew up with two parents and a brother.”

Your brows furrow. You didn’t look into Jungkook’s background much as that was never the focus. His crimes were.

“I was a happy kid with a happy life.” Jungkook speaks again. “He wasn’t. He didn’t have a family. No one was going to miss some kid in the system, right? So I killed him.”

Still, though your heart is pounding, you’re still. You allow Jungkook’s fingers to entangle themselves with your own.

“He would harass anyone he saw fit and that day was my turn. I lured him into these woods behind our school one day. My brother had practice after school was over. He played the clarinet.” Jungkook could still remember the awful way in which his brother would blow into the instrument. “I ran as fast as I could and hid because I knew he would come and find me.”

You swallow.

“I found this big rock. It was heavy, but it’d do the trick was what I was thinking. So…” Jungkook lifts your hand to his lips to kiss it. “...I bashed it against his head. Over and over again. You know…only then did he ever apologize for picking on me.”

Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head. He doesn’t think about that moment often and sharing it with you now is something new. Refreshing even.

“I won’t say I became a killer because I was bullied. Quite the opposite, my love.” Jungkook says. His eyes flicker to yours, reading your expression. Your eyes are wide with shock and he doesn’t expect them not to be.

“I…became enthralled with the act of violence. After basking his head in, I went home. I did my homework. I ate. I went to sleep and lived my life as if I hadn’t done anything at all. I found that I enjoyed it. It got my blood pumping. I never felt so alive.”

Jungkook’s truth was entirely insane. He was insane. He admits to such heinous acts with little to no remorse. He laughs as if it’s a funny joke - a cherished moment in his life that is so child-like and carefree.

Jungkook has been a monster since a young age and now you’re trapped alongside him for who knows how long. And yet, you don’t move a muscle. You don’t pull yourself away with disgust and attempt to free yourself from him.

“People feared me. Even if they didn’t know who I was…it was their fear that kept me going.” Jungkook lays himself onto the grassy ground and tags you to do the same. You and him are side by side, eyes staring right up into the cloudy sky.

“You weren’t one of those people. No matter how hard I tried to get to you…you didn’t break.” Jungkook murmurs, the memories flowing through him. The pictures he’d take of you, the bloodied messages he’d leave for you. Each night, you’d go back and document his crimes live while the remaining reporters had all quit.

“Eventually, killing became…a way to express myself to you.”

“Why?” you finally speak up, voice soft.

“Killing wasn’t the only thing making me feel alive anymore.” Jungkook answers. “I allowed myself to be caught.”

“That’s insane.” you scoff, turning your head to look right at him. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook snorts. “I’ve been who I am since a child yet I haven’t been caught. I was already estranged from my family and what else did I have to lose? I allowed everyone to see who the Beast of Busan was. I wanted you to see me.”

Your heart jolts again and you’re unsure why.

“I saw you as a murderer.” you say, now turning your body fully to face him. The grass is itchy against your skin, but you’d prefer this over the cramped, dark bedroom any day. “I wasn’t one of your fangirls.”

“I know.” Jungkook turns your way, as well. “That’s what I liked about you. I could have lied to you. Present myself as a good guy and go to you that way. But I’m no liar.” Jungkook states. 

“You risked your freedom just to not be a liar?” you’re unsure why you’re smiling. Maybe because Jungkook’s words are insane just like him.

“Nothing else to lose.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Am I not free now with you beside me?”

Jungkook had a point.

“I’ve never lied to you. I’m a murderer, yes. I’ve killed dozens.” Jungkook’s hand reaches out to touch you. He’s happy when you don’t flinch away. “I don’t have to kill anyone else. You captivate me in ways that not even I understand, you know? You outweigh the bloodlust.”

The sane part of you would have told you that Jungkook’s words were lies. That a murderer would always be just that. This was a manipulation tactic - “as long as you’re here as my hostage, I wouldn't kill anyone else”.

Yet, you find that your heart is pounding outside your chest so rapidly. Jungkook’s hand caresses your cheek gently. They’re soft - not hard or calloused like a murderer's hand should be.

Footstep sounds that causes Jungkook to immediately become alert. He sits up instantly, his eyes snapping to the sound of the noise. About ten feet away, an older man steps into view. He’s holding fishing gear and whistling to himself. He doesn’t notice you or Jungkook until he makes himself closer.

“Hello.”

The man is old. White hair on top of his head. Thick glasses that sit on his nose and a bear so long that it touches his chest.

The old man voices cracks as he speaks. He places the fishing gear on the ground and waves slowly, his actions showing his old age.

Jungkook blinks. “Hello.” he calls back, on alert. 

“I didn’t know we had young people around here.” the old man laughs. “Young love…”

Jungkook watches as the man, slow as ever, begins to prepare to fish. His eyes dart to the lake and he furrows a brow.

You watch, as well, unsure what Jungkook was going to do next.

“Are you two staying for spring break?” the old man asks. “I have grandchildren around your age. A shame they don’t visit often…” he begins to murmur under his breath.

The old man doesn’t know Jungkook. He doesn’t know that he’s speaking to a murderer.

Jungkook releases a breath through his nose.

“Yeah, spring break.” Jungkook nods his head slowly. “My parents own a cabin not far from here. My girlfriend and I are only visiting.”

The old man smiles. “Young love…chivalry should never die!”

“Want to go for a swim?” Jungkook had asked you one warm night. It was random - completely out of thin air. He and you had been watching a movie he put on when he asked.

“Now?” you ask, lifting your head from his shoulders to look at him. “It’s…nighttime.” you deadpan.

“I’m aware.” Jungkook snorts. “It’s warm, though. The lake is just as beautiful at night.”

You didn’t need any more convincing. As weeks dragged on, you and Jungkook visited the lake nearly every day. He would show you different methods of painting all the while answering whatever questions you had. He would prepare lunch for the two of you and even sometimes the old man would make an appearance. You and Jungkook realized that the man wasn’t much of a threat and he was genuinely kind. He spoke of his children and many grandchildren and you and Jungkook listened.

“Are you sure we won’t get lost?” you murmur, your hand tightly grasping Jungkook’s as he leads you through the dark forest. A duffle bag is on his left shoulder as you basically cling the right side of him. 

“Positive. I told you, I know these woods like the back of my hand.” Jungkook assures, bringing you closer to him. 

Jungkook loves how dependent you’ve become of him. You freely grabbed his hands or arms at times without him initiating it. You cuddled closer to him when the two of you sat to eat, or to watch whatever was on tv. At night, you would even lay yourself onto his chest and doze off almost immediately.

Trusting Jungkook wasn’t not an option. You didn’t know where you were at and the act of being free from him has become foreign to you. You never asked where the groceries came from, but you understand enough that Jungkook leaves and comes back with enough to last weeks and that was alright to you. He has assured you had all the right necessities you needed - feminine products, soap, body washes and more. The sane part of you, wherever she was, is probably screaming at you to be weary.

“We’re here.” Jungkook sing-songs as the familiar path you and he took leads you right to the large body of water. The moon is full and high in the cloudless, dark sky. Its light illuminates off of the soft, rippling water of the lake, causing it to shed a bit of light to the dark area.

You hum, your eyes dancing around the lake in slight awe. Jungkook had been right again - the lake was beautiful at night, as well.

Jungkook lets go of your hand to drop the duffle bag onto the ground. He has a large comforter and a few throw blankets inside. He takes it all out to spread it across the grass. “You should probably get undressed.”

“Undressed?” your brows furrow. 

“Yes, silly. We’re going swimming.” Jungkook turns to you, a small grin on his lips. He removes his pants, socks and shoes then his shirt. He’s left in his underwear and he stands a moment as he awaits for you to do the same.

Your eyes roam Jungkook’s chest for a moment, before scanning his sleeve of tattoos.

“You don’t have any tattoos on your chest.” you say matter-of-factly.

Jungkook blinks. “I do not.”

You suppose you got your long awaited answer. You too begin to strip. Your sandals tossed aside and the checkered pajama pants with a loose fitted top. You, like Jungkook, leave your own underwear on, your chest already bare. You cross your arms, a bit chilly.

“Come,” Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take and you do. He leads you towards the water that you find to be surprisingly warm. The water splashes as you and Jungkook go deeper into it, until it’s right up to your chest.

Jungkook immediately goes under and you watch in slight amusement when he reemerges, hair slick down.

“The water feels good, doesn’t it?” Jungkook questions. 

“Yeah.” you nod your head. You aren’t sure the last time you actually went swimming - but you know it was never in a lake. At night. With someone like Jungkook. “Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

Jungkook halts his movement when he hears you call him. He floats on his back, eyes casted towards the moon. 

“You said this home belongs to a friend, right?” you question.

“That’s correct.” Jungkook dips underwater once more, this time reemerging right beside you. “Why do you ask?” he says, wiping the water from his eyes. Droplets of water fall from his hair onto his cheeks.

“Who is the friend?”

The lake isn’t as deep as one would expect. He’s able to easily place his feet across the ground and tilt his head your way.

“Why?” Jungkook questions. “Do you want to meet him?”

You shake your head. If you had to guess, you were positive whoever this friend was had to be like Jungkook. You’ve grown to like Jungkook and you’re not sure you could handle more than one of him.

“It's just…you seem to know this place like the back of your hand.” you shrug a bit. “And we never seem to run out of anything.”

Jungkook allows himself to grin. He makes his way a bit closer to you, grabbing your hips beneath the water to keep you close.

“Is there something more you want to ask of me?” Jungkook murmurs. “You’re dancing around the question.”

Jungkook brings you closer to him. He awaits for you to speak - to say what you were trying to say without coming right out and doing so.

“Did you have help getting out of prison?” 

Jungkook’s arms are around you, an act you don’t mind in the slightest. 

“Help? I would say no.” Jungkook’s finger taps the low of your back underwater. “I, however, did tell someone my plans and that’s how we’re here now.”

You nod your head, a bit surprised with Jungkook answering your questions. He didn’t appear to be lying, yet you wouldn’t know if he was or not. 

“In due time, you’ll meet him.” Jungkook leans forward to press his lips to your forehead. They’re soft to the touch, and he softly trails them down your temples to your cheeks. “The countryside is much better than the city, isn’t it? It’s so loud in Busan. It was hard to even think at times.”

“Yeah.” you nod your head, fully aware that now Jungkook and you are so close. Your hands are on his chest and slowly, your left hand trailing towards the tattoos on his arm. You trace them, eyes wandering with the amount he has. “Did your tattoos hurt?”

“Nah,” Jungkook murmurs against your cheek. “I have a high pain tolerance.”

Jungkook’s lips go from your cheeks to your chin and jaw. His kisses leave a tingling feeling behind as he goes lower, reaching your neck.

“Do you remember what I said months ago?” Jungkook questions, lips against your neck.

“No?” you tilt your a bit, silently enjoying the way his lips feels. 

“Back when you fought me.” Jungkook quips. “When you punched me nonstop? Declaring that I’d have to kill you to get you to stop?”

Your eyes close for a moment as Jungkook’s kisses come up your neck to your ear now towards your cheeks once more. He holds you tighter, hands rubbing up along your spine. 

Your mind flashes back to that moment, attempting to remember what Jungkook had said - he said, a lot. As did you. You recall how angered you were; mainly because you were becoming accustomed to Jungkook. You hated yourself for enjoying the way he was making you feel - so you attacked him. You took out whatever frustration you had on him and he allowed it - an act that only pissed you off even more.

“I said I’d never kill you, of course.” Jungkook and you are now nose to nose as your eyes blink open. “But I also said that your attacks excite me.”

Now you remembered, your body heating up underneath his intense gaze. That was right before Jungkook had told you to choose what you were going to do - continue to defy him or accept your fate. You months hiatus you spent right in the dark, lonely bedroom indicates exactly what decision you took.

You begin to ponder what life would have been if you weren’t so headstrong. That if you would have just accepted your fate and understood that there was no leaving Jeon Jungkook unless he allowed it. Would you and he be…happy together?

You press your lips against Jungkook’s without much thought, and even if he himself is a bit shocked, he gets over it instantly. He deepens the kiss, more than happy to finally feel you give into him.

Jungkook, of course, would have rathered you do this months ago. He hated having to treat you like a prisoner in a home that is supposed to belong to the both of you. He had missed waking up besides you every morning and cuddling against you every night - but it’s a lesson you sadly had to learn.

And now, you have. You were determined to make the most of your situation, your sanity slowly slipping away as kissing Jungkook didn’t repulse you like it initially would months ago. You legs wrap around his waist and he holds you effortlessly, your body appearing light as a feather underneath the water.

“You don’t hate me anymore.” Jungkook states between kisses. 

You think about his words. Did you hate him?

Jungkook, no doubt, was a terrible person who turned your life upside down in a blink of an eye. He’s killed so many people and has willingly admitted to it - going as far as stating that it excites him. He’s broken out of prison and dragged you far away from your home and forced you by his side.

But, he hadn’t hurt you, you think selfishly. Sure, emotionally, mentally and spiritually, you are drained. You gave up trying to fight the man but you were fed. You had cleaned clothes and bathed every day. The country life was better than the one in the city. You always felt like you were being watched by those who despised you for your connection to Jungkook.

Was being here with him truly this bad?

“I don’t.” you respond, pressing your lips back against Jungkook’s, this time your tongue finding its way inside his mouth. The action is lewd and it just shows you how desperate you have become for a man's touch. Or maybe it was his touch, as weird as it sounds.

Your tongue dances against one another, your arms now wrapping around Jungkook’s neck to hold him close. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, your nipples hardening.

To Jungkook, having you so close to him (willingly) sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire body. His hands roam down to the curve of your ass, groaning against your tongue.

The next few minutes blurr past the both of you - so much so that you two somehow manage to get out of the water and lay against the large comforter Jungkook had set out on the grass. Goosebumps erupt onto your skin at the cool breeze in the air, but Jungkook’s warmth right on top of you makes it better.

Jungkook’s cock grinds against your clit, both of your underwear equally drench with lake water. He halts the makeout session to release a low groan, his lips swollen red.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You roll your eyes at the compliment. There was no way you were any sorts of beautiful now, drenched in lake water and pieces of your hair sticking to you. Jungkook was a man and said whatever he thought sounded good.

“Shut up.” you grumble, one hand on Jungkook’s bicep while the other trails down his side to reach the hem of his underwear briefs. “I want you…”

Eyes dark, Jungkook licks his lips. His thrusting hips cease for a moment. 

“Right here?” Jungkook questions, though he isn’t exactly opposed to it. It’s dark and no one is around - yet he wouldn’t have thought you would be the one to suggest it. 

“Yeah,” you nod your head hastily. “I don’t care, I just…I-I just want you.”

You were turning into the person your sane self didn’t want to be. Desperate for any form of human contact that you settled for that of a serial killer.

“Ok,” Jungkook huffs. He allows you to pull down his underwear until it’s around his knees. “fuck, ok. Ok.”

Jungkook wants to treat you with delicacy - to show you the ultimate pleasure that only he could provide you. But now it’s evident that the both of you need one another now.

Your panties are next, being ripped off of you by Jungkook and tossed aside. Only a small percentage of you is worried about losing them.

Jungkook wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it a bit before he slides them through your folds. You’re wet, allowing his cock to slide easily across your clit. It causes a shiver to rise up his spine at how good it felt.

You lick your lips just as you feel Jungkook at your entrance. Your hand grips his tattooed bicep, digging your nails into it as he begins to enter you. Your head pushes back towards the comforter as he inches deeper and deeper inside of you.

“You feel so good.” Jungkook stammers, both of his hands onto your hips. “So, so good.”

Your legs wrap around Jungkook’s waist to keep him closer to you.

Jungkook takes it as a sign to pick up the pace, his hips buckling and cock sliding in and out of you. You’re fully unaware just how long it’s been since you had someone - anyone. In Busan, you felt as if the only person you could trust was Jimin, and that was fully platonic. You didn’t trust getting close to anyone after feeling watched due to Jungkook's…friends? Followers?

Jungkook’s mind swirls with you. His heart pounds rapidly as his thrusts pick up, adrenaline flowing through him. He finally has you - all of you. It took longer than he expected but it’s alright but now you submitted to him like he wanted. Your moans fill his ears, a tune that he was going to have ingrained in his mind forever. 

“I love you so much, baby.” Jungkook groans, eyes darting from your bouncing breast to your face drawn in pleasure. “You don’t even know how much I adore you.”

You swallow back another moan, walls clenching around Jungkook’s pounding cock. You had an idea of his sick version of love - you were dragged out of your home and brought here because of said love.

However, with your sanity slowly subsiding, your mind was telling you that this was love.

“I love you, too.” you groan, tightening your grip onto his bicep. 

Jungkook shudders, leaning away from you so he can force your legs apart further. He pounds into you, both of his hands underneath your knees. His head hangs low to watch you, water dripping from his hair. 

“I knew you would…” Jungkook grumbles, eyes clouded. “I knew eventually you’d come to appreciate everything I’ve done for you. For us.”

The forest isn’t quiet anymore. Your moans and Jungkook’s grunts dance off of the trees, mixed with the aggressive skin slapping. 

“For months I sat and thought about what I should do to you while in prison.” Jungkook huffs, his right hand sliding up from your hip to grip your neck. The act causes you to yelp at the rudeness of it, but you’re more than willing.

“I thought about…hurting you.” Jungkook grumbles, his cock plunging in and out of you. If he’s scaring you, you don’t show it. “But then I realized that it wasn’t your fault for what you’ve done. You were just scared.”

Your stomach churns, the hand gripping his bicep going to place right over his hand around your neck. Your eyes blink a few times, fluttering to look at Jungkook’s dark ones.

“I’ll never hurt you, Y/N. You know that, right, baby?”

“Yes,” you nod your head, somehow managing to speak over his hand onto your neck. “I-I know.”

Jungkook removes his hand from your neck and you suck in a deep breath. A rushed hand reaches out to grab the back of Jungkook’s neck and you crash your lips right onto his. Jungkook is a solid man and later you’d ask yourself how you manage to flip him onto his back, but you do. Your legs are on either side of his waist and you begin to grind onto his willing cock.

Jungkook, in this new found position, marvels at you. His hands greedily roam your body, gripping your breast then sliding past your sides to steady on your hips. You were so beautiful that he’s unsure where he should settle. 

Your hips rise and fall eagerly, your hands holding onto his shoulders for support. It’s insane to think how willing you’ve become in Jungkook’s world - all of an act of survival, surely. But even now you’re not so sure if it’s just that.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” Jungkook’s hand grips your breast, meeting your hips halfway to fuck you deeper. “Everything I’ve done to get here was worth it.”

Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, you feel the familiar clenching in your stomach. 

“The killing…the infection. I would do it again if it meant I could have you, baby.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, the bouncing you’re doing only becomes strained. Your arousal leaks along his thighs and it’s obvious you were cumming - Jungkook’s yearning words only dragging you there a lot sooner.

“You’re so obsessed with me.” you murmur after a short breath. It was only a joke, but when Jungkook presses a thumb onto your clit and twirls in with that look in his eyes, it drags you deeper into a state of bliss.

“I am obsessed with you.” Jungkook grumbles, now thrusting his cock into you as you hover above him, your pussy clenching around his so tightly. “I’ve killed for you, baby, there’s nothing more obsessive than that.”

There was something wrong, you think. Jungkook’s words cause something to flow through you. A sick sense of satisfaction that someone would claim to kill for you - the lack of sanity flowing through your mind that it had to be the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard. Mixed that with a bit of stockholm syndrome and possible delirium of being locked in a dark room then…

You were cumming, head pushed back. You release a struggle cry, giving Jungkook full access and control while you tremble above him. 

Jungkook isn’t too far behind and he never intended to last this long. He had waited for months for you to come around, distancing himself no matter how much it pained him. He missed you to his core, sleeping on your side of the bed with your pillow just because it smelt like you. He bathed with your body wash just to feel closer to you - even going as far as masturbating with his eyes closed, pretending that it was you there with me.

“I love you so much, baby.” Jungkook breathes, sloppy thrusts pounding into you while his fingernails dig into your skin so harshly, but neither of you notice.

Jungkook’s cum is warm when it releases inside of you and it begins to pool out even before he has the chance to pull out himself. His breathing begins to slow, his chest rising and falling in rushed patterns. His grip on you tightens when he releases his cock from inside of you.

Sex with Jungkook became constant - especially after coming from the lake and taking a shower. As time went on, sex became passionate; sensual. You and he couldn’t be bothered to stay away from one another nor did it ever truly matter. 

Now especially as you and Jungkook bathed, hot water poured down on both of you. Your right hand is wrapped around the shaft of his cock and your tongue swirling on the tip. Over time, you’ve enjoyed pleasuring Jungkook just the same as he does you, finding that his handsome face is drawn in pleasure mixed with the grunts and groans coming from his lips.

The tiled shower wall is cold in contrast to the water pouring down, but to Jungkook all he can think about is the way your mouth takes him so lovingly. 

It all happens so fast. You on your knees, cock in your mouth to you and Jungkook, tangled in the sheets. He has you in a hold, thighs spread apart while his tongue suckles onto your clit, working its way between your folds. The once silent home is full of passionate moans from your end, and slurping from his. It’s overwhelming as Jungkook, as a lover, was extremely tentative. He didn’t stop until you came each time - now no different.

One hand grips Jungkook’s hair as his tongue devours you. Dark, lust-filled eyes stare up at your face and the action only encourages him to continue. His head rapidly jerks back and forth, tongue laid flat onto your clit.

“I can never have enough of you, baby.” Jungkook disclosed, going to enter two fingers inside of you. His tongue, teasingly as he pumps his digits in you, flickers against your clit.

Your moaning increases. No matter how many times you find yourself in this position for Jungkook, the man always causes you to squirm. His fingers scrape your walls in just the right way, stamina unmatched. One of his favorite things to do is watch you come undone right before him, juices pooling around you and onto the palm of his hands. 

Just right now, your chest heaving as he pounds his fingers into you does your arousal pool out of you messily.

“Oh, fuck.” Jungkook chuckles. “You’re making a mess all over me, baby. Your pussy can just never get enough.”

Your thighs are quivering when Jungkook removes his fingers. He places them into his mouth, tongue swirling over them to savor the taste of you - a groan coming deep from his chest.

“You always taste so sweet.” Jungkook shakes his head. It was so hard not to be obsessed with you as to him, you were far too perfect in every way.

Jungkook stands, hands moving quickly. He flips you onto your stomach and arches your back and pulls you aggressively towards him. His cock is painfully hard and he needs to fuck you.

Your fingers dig into the sheets as Jungkook’s cock plunges into you with one quick thrust. Jungkook had two sides to him - the passionate lover that dotted onto you. And this side; the aggressively possessive man that took what was his.

Either side of Jungkook you enjoyed.

It doesn’t take long for you to be squealing loudly again as Jungkook fucks you. His thrusts are demeaning, both hands keeping you in place and shoves you right into the mattress. His movements are quick, rough and nonstop, eyes unblinking.

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy keeps squeezing around me.” Jungkook grunts. “You’re such a whore, Y/N, you can never get enough. Your pussy’s so greedy.”

You had become a whore, you think. You wanted Jungkook at any moment - no matter the time, day or what you were doing. It’s as though you forget a few months back the hatred and fear you fett for the man and just what he had done to bring you here.

“K-Kook,” you gasp, your cheek pressed firmly against the sheets. 

“Yeah, baby?” Jungkook snaps his hips deeper at the sound of his name from such sweet lips. “You’re going to cum again already?”

You nod your head pathetically, unable to form words at the moment. 

Jungkook snarls. “Such a good slut you’ve become, Y/N. You open your legs for me all the time and allow me to fuck you with no consequences.” your ass bounces off of his abdomen and Jungkook finds the sight utterly perfect. “You must want a baby, don’t you? Of course that’s what you want.”

A baby wasn’t ideal - not when he was an escaped prisoner hiding out. But, it was something that excited him. Out here, he could keep you and him safe from anyone as there was no one that lived for miles. That old man wasn’t a threat and overtime, said old man wouldn’t be around. Maybe a baby wouldn’t be wrong…

“Fuck,” Jungkook’s hips snap even harder at the thought of you carrying his child - or children. You being round with something that is just as much as him as it is you.  Someone he could love just as much as he loves you - it causes Jungkook to burst right inside of you, milky seed splattering your spasming walls.

The entirety of the day you and Jungkook find yourself entangled in the same way that it’s exhausting.

“Where are you going?” you ask Jungkook after another shower, your body wrapped in a robe. Your eyes watch as he begins to dress.

“I have to meet my friend.” Jungkook says vaguely. “I won’t be long, though.”

“Oh.” you say. You blink a few times, eyes roaming around the bedroom. 

“Is everything alright?” Jungkook tilts his head to look at you. 

“Yeah. It’s just…getting dark.” you shrug your shoulders.

Jungkook’s lip twitches upwards. He makes his way towards you. “You don’t have to be concerned about my safety, Y/N.” he says with a laugh. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Of course you haven’t, and the thought that you were a bit concerned about Jungkook causes your body to grow warm with embarrassment. He was more than capable in taking care of himself.

“Will I ever meet your friend?” you question, a hand on Jungkook’s chest. You smooth out the small wrinkle in his shirt. 

“Of course.” Jungkook takes your hand from his chest and kisses your fingers. “In due time. We just have manners to speak about before you do.”

You nod your head slowly. “I can start dinner.” you insist.

“Yeah?” Jungkook smiles. “I’d like that. Don’t watch anything until I come back. We both need to start the new season.”

It was only ten minutes later when there was a knock on the cabin door that jolted you back into reality. You had cut vegetables and were steaming them when the knock sounded. The kitchen wasn’t far from the living area and majority - if not all - the lights were on. 

Jungkook never knocks - he didn’t have to. 

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you make your way towards the wooden door just as another knock sounds. The window right beside the door had the curtains drawn and you peek out to see a man - young. College age possibly. He’s holding a medium, shaped tupperware in his hands and appears utterly uninterested.

Jungkook wouldn’t have wanted you to open the door - right?

No one is supposed to know that you’re here.

You open the door a crack and look out. “Hello?”

“Oh.” the young man says. His attention is on you. “Um, I have bread.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Bread…?”

The young man lifts up the container in his hands and shakes it a bit. “Yeah. My grandfather said you’d probably want some.” he says.  “He didn’t tell me the walk would be half an hour.” he proceeds to mutter beneath his breath.

You release a short breath. This was the old man's grandson - he talked about them not visiting often.

“I, uh, have to take the bus back home.” the young man says. It was a hint for you to get the bread so he can leave. It was obvious he didn’t want to be here. “It’s already another half an hour walk and-”

“Thank you.” you say quickly, opening the door to take the container. 

The young man nods his head as he places it in your hands. “No problem. I didn’t know my grandfather had neighbors…” the boy trails off. “Can I use the restroom?”

You blink a bit, straightening your shoulders. 

“It’ll be quick.”

It took five minutes. Five agonizing long minutes with you looking down the hall to the bathroom to outside. You didn’t want Jungkook to come and see that you allowed someone to enter the cabin for fear of how he’d react. Your hands are trembling as you begin to cut potatoes just as the boy enters.

“Thank you.” the young man murmurs, his eyes on his phone.

“No problem.” you stop cutting to avert your attention towards him. “It’s getting dark and I don’t want you-”

“You’re Y/N.”

Your mouth clasps shut as the boy speaks. He turns his phone to you, a picture of you shining back at you. “You’ve been missing for almost six months.”

Your heart pounds.

“My grandfather said you were with a man…” he says, voice low. “...is that man…forcing you to be here?”

You had hoped that your appearance had changed drastically from the last time anyone saw you. Your mouth goes dry and you’re truly unsure of what to say.

“Look,” the boy comes closer to you, hands up. “You’re here alone, right?”

Slowly, you nod your head.

“Okay,” he nods his head. “We can go together. My grandfather’s cabin is just down the hill. It’ll be a little walk but-”

“I’m not sure when he’ll come back.” you murmur. “He said he won’t be long.”

His eyes widen a bit and he swallows. “You’re…far from Busan, Y/N.” he whispers. “If you want to escape we need to go now.”

Now.

Escape.

Now.

Escape.

Escape…now…

“Come,” you boy takes your free hand and tugs you a bit. Your feet and his paddles along the wooden floor as he begins to take you down the hallway and out of the cabin door.

The cool evening air hits you just as you and he get onto the porch. Your other hand, still clenching the knife, strikes before your mind can tell you not to.

You sink the knife right into the young man’s lower back. A shriek releases from his throat and he lets go of your hand as he stumbles forward.

“W-What?”

The knife drips with crimson blood, your eyes looking between him and said knife.

“I…I can’t go back.”

The man eyes you as if you’re crazy.

“Jungkook he…he loves me. He…” you think back to Jungkook's words. He’d kill for you. He’s protected you all this time.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” your voice cracks. 

You raise the knife again, this time jabbing it into the boy's stomach repeatedly. Over and over again, your eyes glossy with fresh, hot tears and it blinds your vision. The young boy's squelching soon stops but even then can you not hear him over the sound of your own sobbing, the slicing knife digging into flesh just another background noise.

Your breath hitches when you feel arms embrace you and the knife falls onto the ground beside you. You blink away the blinding tears.

“Y/N.”

Jungkook’s voice fills your ears and again, you begin to sob.

“Come,” Jungkook gets you to your feet and brings you into the house. You’re covered in blood and it trickles down the hallway as he takes you towards the bathroom. 

“I shouldn’t have let him in the house.” you begin to say rapidly. “I-”

“It’s okay, baby.” Jungkook sits you onto the toilet as he turns on the water. “It’s okay-”

“He, uh…the old man.” you have to get your breathing under control before you can continue to talk. “...his grandson came and gave us bread.”

“Bread?” Jungkook furrows his brows. He slowly nods his head. “Okay…”

“And he…he asked to come use the bathroom and I-”

“It’s not your fault, baby.” Jungkook places both hands onto your cheeks. The broken look in your eyes causes his heart to jolt.

“He told me to run away.” you hiccup. “And…and escape while you were gone so I…I…”

The running water hits against the bathtub floor and the hot water steams up the bathroom. 

“...I didn’t want to go. You love me, right?”

Jungkook answers immediately. “Of course I do!” he says, pressing a kiss to your bloodied forehead. “Of course. I. Do.”

Jungkook isn’t upset at you. You’re a wholesome person who decided to see the good in people.

“Take a shower. Get cleaned up.” Jungkook murmurs your way, his hands sliding down your cheeks to your shoulders. “I’m going to get rid of our problem.”

You exhale a shaky breath. You were suddenly exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but curl into a ball and cry.

“Okay.” you sigh.

Jungkook closes the bathroom door as he walks out and down the hall. He makes his way out the front door and lets out a sigh.

“Well,”

Jimin is standing above the bloodied body of the young man. He glances up at Jungkook as he makes his appearance.

“It appears that Y/N doesn’t want to leave.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” Jungkook groans, motioning towards the body. 

Jimin furrows his brows. “No.” he scoffs with a jerk of his neck. “Are you dumb or just fucking stupid, Jungkook?”

Jungkook knits his brows with a snort. “What the hell are-”

“You aren’t supposed to be here, Kook.” Jimin hisses, pointing a finger at the cabin. “I said a month tops then you go. Leave the fucking country but do you listen?”

“Jimin, I-” Jungkook sighs. “I didn’t have time for that. Y/N...she wasn’t ready-”

“Who the fuck is this?” Jimin hisses, pointing at the corpse. “And bullshit. You’ve been fucking her for months-”

“No one comes out here!” Jungkook hisses back. “He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the old man.”

“Old man?” Jimin questions. “He’s still alive? Damn.” he blinks a few times. “Did he recognize you?”

“Not at all.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Not as the Beast of Busan  or as the one of the kids who used to come by and help with his garden.”

Jimin nods his head. “He probably has dementia,” he murmurs. “Who’s to say he even remembers sending his grandson here?”

Jungkook hums. “Probably not at all.” he murmured. “What should we-”

“I’m not getting dirty with you.” Jimin raises a hand. “I’m wearing valentino. If I would’ve known you’d turn Y/N until a little killer-”

“She’s not-”

“-I probably would’ve worn something less expensive.” Jimin waves him off. “Put him by the bear den.” he shrugs. “People would find some type of trace of him there if anyone comes looking. They’ll think it’s just natural selection.”

Jungkook was thinking of cutting his body into pieces and possibly burning them - but the bear den was possibly better and it was further from here. No one would come snooping around.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods his head hastily. 

You sit in the room, towel around your body when Jungkook appears. You’re positive dinner is ruined and you feel even more terrible. Your mind replays the events over and over in your head.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions from the doorway. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” you say, answering both questions at once. You inhale deeply and sit up onto the bed. “Is…he gone?”

Jungkook nods his head slowly. “He is.”

You look over Jungkook’s appearance. His clothes are muddy and you contemplate asking if he buried him, but you decided against it. You didn’t want to know.

“What you’ve done, my love, is not your fault.” Jungkook allows a smile to form onto his lips. “You did it out of love. You’ve killed for me the same way I would've done for you.”

Your heart jolts. “You aren’t mad?” you have to ask, even if he stated before he wasn’t. You added more stress to an already stressful situation.

“Of course not.” Jungkook steps into the bedroom and kneels down by the edge of the bed. He takes your hands in his own. “No one is ever going to find out about him or us.” he says in a whisper. “We’re safe here. You and I.”

Slowly, you nod your head. “Just you and I.” you repeat, your own lips twisted upward to copy his smile.

[hoperecs]

Levi sat at his desk, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. He hears the door of the bathroom open as you step out, a towel wrapped around your body, hair wet, your thighs were exposed and he can see all the marks he left on it. His eyes shamelessly run over you, slowly going up and down as he leans back in his chair. "What?" You say, drying your hair with another towel, his gaze was hungry and if didn't have the paperwork in front of him, he would have you on his desk. "Nothing." Levi goes back to his work but he keeps stealing glances at you. The things he wanted to do to you right now, those marks on your inner thighs and neck weren't nearly enough, he wanted more.

You go through his closet, there was always a few pieces of your clothing at his quarters. "Come here." Turning around you look at Levi who is now clearly not interested in doing his work anymore. "Oh really? What happened to being professional?" It was a dumb idea to tease him however it's fun to tease him, especially when he is turned on. You walk over to him and stand right in front of him, better his legs. Levi let's his hand comes up to your hips, he wants that towel off of you. "No sane man would stay professional with a sight of his fiancée looking like this." He pulls the towel off and before you know it, all the things from his desk are on the floor and your on top of it. "I don't have time to fuck you but that doesn't mean I can't get a taste." He spreads your legs, teasing you with a few kisses before his mouth goes where you need it the most.

[hoperecs]

Ugh! - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: “Aren’t we done?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Pure fluff, tsundere Jungkook?, exes that are so not done with each other lol

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: I wrote this while picturing pouty and bratty Jungkook, so instead of simp Jungkook we ended up with somewhat of a tsundere one lol

It had been officially the first day of waking up being single again after not in seven months. Previously you had been single for a while too, so it was not like this was something new for you, it was just… odd. The wound was still fresh after all. 

Looking at the reflection in the mirror, the first thing you saw was your puffy eyes. You had been crying, bawling your eyes out to sad songs, basically putting alcohol to your freshly cut wound. Life must continue. Even if you were in the verge of losing your mind, you still had to wake up. 

It was your first (and apparently last?) big fight your now ex, Jungkook. You for one, never liked how the guy would doomscroll through tiktok and instagram for hours and hours and ignored you. Not only that, he ended up losing sleep too. Yes, you had your own fair share of consuming social media, same as everyone else, but you never let it disturb your health. Still, he never changed for the better, since the beginning you found out about it. 

So when one day you found out the guy was sent to hospital due to exhaustion, your first reaction was to be upset and pissed, instead of a more logical reaction. The fight ended up spiraling, branching into digging old unresolved frustration you had, worrying about his well being. Jungkook being a stubborn guy he was, turned full defense mode. Then the word was spoken. 

Everything had now led you to this exact moment, where you had to open your door to your ex in the morning, while looking like a complete mess. 

“Do you really need to come this early in the morning?!” You asked, annoyed. 

Jungkook was in his usual black oversized hoodie. You could see his beanie peeking through from underneath, it was in the same pitch black color. He looked like he didn’t even take a shower before showing up. Eye bags could be seen decorating his round doe eyes. 

“My PS5 is here.” He argued. 

“I can just mail it to you or something.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I wanna play the new game I just got!” He walked past you, totally ignoring your scoff. 

“You can’t just do that.” You sighed, following him from the back. 

“You’re dramatic.” He said as he unplugged the console from your TV. 

You watched as he took the controllers and the cables and collected them all in his arms. “You need a bag with that?”

“No.” 

“Alright.”

Once he was done, man stood up as he somehow managed to grab everything in his hands. He looked like he was struggling, but you knew the man too well that he would never let you know about it. Your eyes fell on a few of video game CDs left on your drawer. 

“You sure that’s everything?” 

“Yeah.” He looked at you with a frown. 

“If you say so.” You eyed the games again and shook your head. Somehow refusing to say a thing. “That’s all?”

“Uh-huh.” He said, not moving from where he stood. 

“Then?”

“Then what???” The audacity of this man to sound offended. 

“Why aren’t you leaving?!” 

“Just making sure I didn’t leave anything.” He said and finally made his way to your door. 

There was a very faint hit of his fragrance came to you as he walked right past. You hated how your heart could betray you so quickly because it got you so worked up over the smell. 

You walked him to the door with words unspoken. You swore you saw him almost bending down, like he was gonna kiss you goodbye. It was probably a muscle memory, but he managed to stop himself before doing anything. 

“Bye.” He quickly said. 

“Bye, Jungkook.” You closed the door behind you, avoiding to spend any more second in his eyes. 

The first few days after breakup were supposed to be the hardest. At least that was what you heard from your friends. So, in order to distract yourself and to avoid spending your free time crying, you invited some of your friends to join you for a short karaoke session after work. 

“Explain to me why are you inviting us and why are you paying again?” Somi asked. 

“Jungkook just dumped her.” Mingyu snickered. 

Somi gasped. “I’m so sorry to hear that, are you okay?”

“I dumped him.” You glared at your other friend, correcting him. “I need a distraction.”

“Karaoke, is your idea of distraction?” Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. “Your ex literally has a whole karaoke bar in his house—“

“Shut it.” You put your hand over the guy’s lips, cutting his sentence short. “I can just go with Somi if you don’t want to.”

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The taller guy whined and followed you and Somi to the karaoke room.

Doing karaoke was fun, but it did not do any help. Every song seemed to constantly remind you of him, and you spent the whole two hours holding and containing yourself so it would not show. 

You decided to record an Instagram story. Deep down there was this tiny bit of hope on Jungkook seeing your story, since you didn’t block him and all. Maybe if he saw, he could see how you could have fun without him just fine. 

“I think I lost my voice…” Mingyu said as all of you exited the room. 

“No one asked you to sing three Adele songs in a row.” Somi laughed. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you sing like that!” You laughed along with the girl. “Thanks for coming though, that was—.”

You were stunned upon seeing who was right in front of the entrance. Your boyf— ex, was walking back and forth, looking antsy. The extremely baggy t-shirt he wore was flowing due to the wind blowing outside, along with his hair. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, posing a dumbfounded expression. 

“That’s my line.” You folded your arms. 

“Can’t I go out with my friends?!” He rolled his eyes. 

“Jungkook, you have a karaoke room in your house.” You rolled your eyes. “Plus I don’t see anyone with you.”

“They’re not here yet.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Somi and Mingyu both eyed each other, seemingly holding their dying laughter. 

“Are you not gonna go inside?” You asked him. 

“Are you not gonna go away already?!” He retorted back.

Maybe you were being sensitive, but there was a slight pang in your chest, hearing him telling you to go away. 

“Jungkook my dude, I honestly thought you were brighter than this.” Mingyu chuckled, dragging you by your shoulder. “Come on miss girl, we are going home now.” 

Somi politely smiled at the guy before running to catch up with you and Mingyu. You glared at him one last time before turning your glance away. 

It was two in the morning that you heard your phone rang on a random Wednesday. You were barely awake and your room was dark enough that made it hard for you to see the caller name. But the heart and bunny emojis were a dead giveaway. You still had not changed his contact name.

“How do you insert back a hoodie drawstring?”

You looked at the hanging clock on the wall again after hearing that ridiculous question. “Do you know what time this is???”

“You borrowed this hoodie last time so maybe you ruined it.” 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious right now.” You sighed. “That was like what, a month ago?!”

“Yeah, but I haven’t worn it since.” He retorted. 

“Can’t you just look up youtube tutorials or something? I can’t believe you called me just for this…” You complained. 

There was a short pause from the other line before he spoke again. “I’ve tried it, it’s still won’t go in. You fixed my other hoodie before too.”

You sighed again. Knowing the guy, you were sure he was pouting and looking miserable. “Hook a safety pin on one end of the string, that way you can easily slide it through the hole.”

“Alright, I’ll go get a safety pin.”

“Cool, I’m hanging up now.” 

“You’re not gonna wait until I’m done with it?”

“Do I have to?!” 

“Right.” His voice went low. “I’m sorry, thanks for picking up the call though.” He said before ending the call. 

Later on you spent the next hour fighting with yourself on whether you should text him just to ask if he managed to fix his hoodie or not. You ended up falling asleep before you actually send any chat bubble. 

Time passed and the next thing you knew, you were batshit drunk, asking for another shot at the bar with your already ruined makeup. 

You didn’t know why you decided to go drinking alone. Work was getting to you and all the pent up stress was just too much for you to bear for the day. At times like this you would usually call Jungkook, and man would show up at your doorstep no questions asked. No matter the time, he would always be ready to cheer you up. Now with him gone and him being the main reason you were miserable as well, alcohol was calling your name. 

As the bartender fixed you another shot, you took out your phone from the back pocket. Your vision was a bit blurry but you could still make up what was on the screen. There was an unread notification from Jungkook, blabbering about the games he left at your place and that he wanted to pick them up. 

Without much thinking you replied with, “Can’t. Too busy drinking my feelings away.” 

Not even thirty seconds later, a call rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Where even are you???” Jungkook asked. He sounded serious, the tone of his voice was laced with worries. 

“I’m at Joe’s.” You giggled, clearly not thinking straight. You were still sober enough to know what you were doing, but not enough for you to make a logical decision.

There was a long sigh from the other line. “I’ll pick you up.”

“N-No! Kookie— I mean—“ The call was already dead when you protested. 

Your rescue came just around ten to twelve minutes later. Your rescue came in a form of a beautiful man dressed in washed out grey hoodie, ripped jeans, fluffiest hair, who just happened to be your ex. He came to the bar and leaned over to ask the cashier about your order, paying for them. He sighed and turned to your direction again.  

He took you by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

You, undoubtedly still affected by alcohol, started to feel all kinds of things. Looking away, all you said was “No.” 

But you let him drag you from the seat, just silently holding your hand and guiding you to his car. 

The drive was silent and Jungkook didn’t even bother to turn the music player on. You avoided looking at his direction as best as you can, instead you tried to focus on fidgeting your own fingers.

“You sure you can manage on your own?” 

You only nodded. 

“I know I’m not one to talk but please take care of yourself. Don’t go drinking alone like this ever again.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” He sighed, running fingers through his locks. “You sure you can go to your room alone?”

“Why did you come?”

Jungkook looked at you, as if you were speaking in foreign language. 

“Aren’t we done?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want him to leave. Seeing him this close all you wanted was to jump into his embrace and to never ever let go. But as drunk as you were, you were still confused, hurting even. He was so eager to say yes when you asked for a breakup. It just did not make any sense to you as to why he kept reappearing in your life, as if he never wanted to leave in the first place. 

“Kook, aren’t we done?” You repeated. 

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Look, let me just help you inside.”

And so you let him grabbed you by your shoulder, helping you inside your apartment. He guided you to your couch and fetched a glass of water. You took a few sip of the water and leaned back against the sofa, closing your eyes due to the dizziness. 

“You good?”

You were not. How dare he, asking that question, knowing he was the main reason you were far from being okay in the first place. 

“No.” The alcohol in your system was making you honest. 

Jungkook looked hesitant, but he took a seat next to you. “Want me to stay?”

You couldn’t voice a respond, instead your thoughts wander at the video games that he left, still sitting prettily under the television, now seemingly forgotten yet again. You refused to say a thing. Somehow you hoped it would be his another excuse to keep contacting you. 

“I’ll help you change and then I’ll leave. Okay?”

You barely nodded. He grabbed you by your wrist and helped you to your room. Throughout your relationship you never really got drunk. That was why it when he helped you out of your clothes and gently changed it to a new one, even went for a cotton pad and a makeup remover (after looking for it for a solid five minutes) and helped cleaning your makeup, it made you fell in love with him all over again. 

He watched as you rested your head against your pillow, eyes barely opened. He looked around the room, finding something to do, anything. Anything just to keep him staying longer. 

“Thank you.” You said in an almost whisper. 

“Can I stay?” 

Your eyes widened just a bit but you couldn’t find yourself to refuse his offer. You nodded and hugged your plushie close. 

“I’ll help you change the bedsheets tomorrow.” He said as he joined you in bed next to you. 

He was hesitant at first, but ended up putting his arms over your waist. Both of you fell asleep with him resting his head on yours. The alcohol was definitely playing its part cause if you were sober, you knew you would just spend the rest of the night wide awake, heart bursting out from your chest. 

The morning came with a headache served next to it. The first thing you notice was a light snore, and the next quick seconds you noticed a tattooed arm draped around your body. Looking up all you saw was his long eyelash and his slightly ajar mouth that you wanted so badly to kiss. You did let Jungkook stay the night after all. 

Feeling your body shifting, the man spoke with his eyes still closed shut. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” You replied. “I need to go brush my teeth…” 

Instead Jungkook held you tighter. “Trust me, I’m insecure about my morning breath as well but give me a few more minutes.”

You didn’t say anything back, too afraid he could feel your heart beating rapidly, in which he most probably could. 

“Can I stay?” 

“What do you mean? You’re already here.” 

“No, I mean stay with you.” He finally opened his eyes, vision immediately towards you. “In our relationship…”

Your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m a stubborn person and I worry you a lot…” He sighed. “I’ll try my best to change, and for that I need you with me.” His arm moved to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

A tear unknowingly escaped your eye and you giggled. The whole seven months of dating him, you had never seen this side of him. Not even at the day he confessed his feelings for you. You never knew how he could be so… sweet. Even sweeter than what you were used to. 

“Hey, don’t cry! I’m sorry…” He swiped your tears with his thumb quickly. 

You responded by hugging him, burying your face on his chest. 

“Uh, so does this mean…?” The boy asked skeptically. 

“I miss you.” You said with voice muffled by the material of his t-shirt. 

A small chuckle left him and his body relaxed, hugging you back. “I miss you too, you have no idea.”

You smiled, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna forget about your games again.”

He smirked. “I knew I left them when I first took my playstation.”

“Then why didn’t you take them?!” 

“I was dragging this out as long as I possibly can.” He sheepishly smiled, cheeks turning pink. “Why do you think I was even at that karaoke bar that day?!”

“I knew that was fishy!” You laughed. “Aww, you really did miss me, huh?”

“Yup.” He squeezed you in a big hug and peppered your face with smooches. 

“Jungkook!” You giggled. 

He suddenly moved to being on your top and caged you in between his arms. An evil smirk visible on his lips. “Ready to see how much I miss you?”

Safe to say he made you stay on the bed just a few hours more. 

Thank you for reading! 🎮

[hoperecs]

STAGED FOR THE SEASON ! ... christmas special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

going back home for the holidays meant facing his ex — the one he still couldn’t let go of. determined to win her back and spark a little jealousy, he brought you along… as his fake girlfriend.

word count. 18.3k words warnings. fake dating au. angst. friends to lovers. jk not over his ex. FLIRTING !! TENSION !! jungkook comes to his senses a lot in this. angst. lots of teasing. smut. unprotected sex. oral (both!receiving). quiet sex hehe. munch jk again sorry i love an eater. a little male masturbation. he looks at her while he strokes it bites lip. dom!jk (still a sub enthusiast tho). oh did i mention angst ?

ana's notes. merry christmas in february !! im crying THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING. i swear this was originally supposed to be posted in december, but i ended scrapping after scrapping. that led to the writing taking much longer than i thought it would and i actually still hate this LMFAO but i did not spend all that time on this just to not post it. so here it is. just .. here JUST TAKE IT. next fic will make up for this mess, i promise x

Jungkook was a wild individual, his life practically a highlight reel of impulsive decisions and stories that somehow always ended with him escaping a war. From his childhood to his teenage years and everything in between, you’d heard your fair share of them — events so absurd that you sometimes questioned if they were even real.

But as wild and ridiculous as those stories were, nothing could have prepared you for what he was saying right now.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for Christmas.”

You froze, staring at him in pure bewilderment. It was so random — like, literally, what the fuck?

The two of you had been lounging comfortably on your couch, a shared blanket draped across your laps as you caught up on each other's lives. The conversation had been perfectly ordinary. He’d just asked about your holiday plans, and you’d told him you were spending your holiday break from work in your apartment.  

And then he said this, like it was nothing.  

Now, judging by the way you were looking at him — eyes wide, utterly dumbfounded — Jungkook couldn’t tell if there was a ghost standing behind him or if his question was genuinely out of pocket.

Jungkook shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Well?”  

You blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his words. Is he okay? “I’m sorry?”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out,” he said, sitting upright in one swift motion, his previously slouched posture disappearing as if the words themselves had straightened his spine. “I’m going home for the holidays, and you know how my mom is close friends with my ex's mom, right?”  

“Mhm…” you hum slowly, even though you already know where this is headed.

“Well, my mom invited her over on Christmas… and Misa’s gonna be there,” he says, the words spilling out like a reluctant confession. His gaze shifts to the floor, as though the hardwood could offer him some kind of solace or escape from your reaction. There’s a slight edge to his voice, like he’s bracing himself for your judgment, and his fingers tug at the thread on his jeans.  

“Kook…” Your voice drops to a quieter tone, heavy with exasperation, before a sigh escapes your lips.  

Now, you’ve heard that name a few times. And each time you did, it felt like an unwanted stone hurled into calm waters, rippling outward until it disrupted everything.  

You didn’t dislike Misa herself — how could you, when you’d never even met her? What you couldn’t stand was the effect her name had on Jungkook. It wasn’t just sadness or nostalgia that overtook him; it was something deeper, something heavier. Like a wound that had never fully healed, her name had the power to knock the air out of him, leaving him raw and vulnerable every time.

The first time you heard of Misa was through Jimin and Taehyung. According to them, Jungkook and Misa had been childhood friends who started dating in high school. But that love didn’t survive graduation. They were heading to different universities — she to Ulsan, and him in Seoul — and while Jungkook had begged her to make it work, she never wanted to do long distance. It was practical, maybe even logical, but it had wrecked him.

Jungkook never pursued relationships after her; he didn’t see the point. Love, in his eyes, was a gamble he wasn’t willing to take again. Instead, he sought out fleeting connections with girls he found attractive, indulging in temporary pleasures without the weight of commitment. It wasn’t fair, and deep down, he knew it. But as messed up as it was, he couldn’t stop himself.  

Because he didn’t want to love anyone else.  

Love had burned him once — left him raw, scarred, and reluctant to open that part of himself again. It was easier this way, safer. No expectations, no vulnerability, no chance of heartbreak. Just meaningless hookups that kept the loneliness at bay for a little while.  

“You already know what I’m going to say,” he says quietly, his voice subdued yet heavy with expectation.  

“Yeah, I do,” you snap back, unable to hide the sharp edge in your tone. There’s a bite of attitude behind your words, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

And of course, you do. He wanted you to come with him, to play the part, to make her jealous. Everything Jungkook did seemed to circle back to her. Every action, every thought, every breath — it all revolved around Misa. She was an unshakable presence in his life, even in her absence, consuming his every waking second.  

And that’s what stung. Not for yourself, but for him. Because she wouldn’t have broken up with him in the first place if she thought about him the way he still thought about her. If she cared even a fraction as much as he still does.  

You could only stare at him, your expression a mixture of pity and quiet disappointment. He had so much to give, so much love that could be directed toward someone who might actually deserve it. Yet here he was, stuck in a loop, still thinking about someone who chose to let him go.  

“I know,” he says softly. And the worst part? He really does know. He knows exactly what you’re thinking because he’s heard it all before. And it frustrates you to no end because knowing and doing are two very different things.

You’ve never held back from telling him exactly how you feel. As one of his best friends, you had every right to be upset about it. Watching him go through girls like they’re disposable wasn’t just reckless; it was self destructive. You’d made it painfully clear how detrimental it was for him to still be hung up on his ex, and even more so to avoid meaningful connections altogether. But despite your blunt honesty, Jungkook has never made an effort to truly change.

He never takes the time to get to know the women he hooks up with — it’s always a simple fuck and go. It’s a vicious cycle that leaves no room for growth or healing. But Jungkook’s stubbornness is both his armor and his downfall.

Before you could scold him, you catch yourself. You take a breath, reminding yourself that emotions, especially Jungkook’s, aren’t something he can just flip on and off. Instead of letting your frustration bubble over, you pause, choosing empathy. You let yourself step into his shoes, imagining the weight he must carry, the way old memories cling like cobwebs in the corners of his mind.

Jungkook has always been there for you, through thick and thin.

Now, it was your turn to return the favor.

“I’ll do it,” you said, finally breaking the heavy silence.

His head snapped up so fast you flinched, half expecting him to pull a muscle. His hair bounced with the sudden movement, and his eyes were wide, shining with a mix of disbelief and cautious hope. “Really?”

“This is very stupid, Jungkook,” you replied, your tone firm but tinged with a resigned gentleness.  

“It is,” he agreed without hesitation, nodding like a chastised child. Because he knew you were right — it was stupid, immature even. The two of you were grown adults for crying out loud, and here he was asking you to fake being his girlfriend just to get under his ex’s skin.

You only sighed, the weight of your decision settling over you. “Then I guess we should lay down some boundaries,” you said, your voice steady, though your stomach churned with unease.  

His face lit up with a bright, almost childlike smile, his eyes sparkling with hope. He still couldn’t believe you were agreeing to this. “Right-”

“I’m not kissing you,” you interrupted, your tone firm.

The joy drained from his face in an instant, replaced by pure, unfiltered horror. “What? No one is going to believe us if you don’t let me kiss you!”  

“Then we’ll just say we aren’t comfortable with PDA,” you countered with a shrug, as if it were the simplest solution in the world.  

“I always kissed Misa in front of our parents!” he argued, a faint whine creeping into his voice.

“Then we’ll say I’m not comfortable with PDA,” you shot back, emphasizing your words. “Kook, I just don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly nodded. As much as he hated the idea of limiting the act, he understood where you were coming from. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable. “Fine. Can I at least kiss you on the cheek?”  

“Yeah,” you said, offering a small smile.  

“Great,” he replied, perking up slightly. “We must be touching at all times. I was always very clingy with Misa, so it needs to look natural…”  

You almost grimaced at the thought. You let out a long sigh, nodding reluctantly. “Fine. Touching at all times. But keep your hands where I can see them.”  

“Relax,” Jungkook said with a grin, leaning back smugly. “I’m not a perv. Maybe we should practice-”

“If you touch me, I will hit you,” you cut him off, glaring.

Days after your little agreement with Jungkook, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of his car, the heater humming softly as it worked to fight the cold winter air that seeped through the windows. The trunk was packed tightly with your bags, a visible reminder of the journey ahead, and the winding highway stretched endlessly before you under the dull gray sky.  

Initially, the plan was simple: head to Busan on Christmas day, just in time for dinner. But Jungkook’s mom insisted that you both arrive a day earlier to rest after the long drive. The suggestion didn’t bother you — in fact, it seemed practical. Yet, it also meant one extra day to brace yourself for the moment you’d stand beside Jungkook as he faced the girl who broke his heart.

With an acrylic nail caught between your teeth, you stared out the window, taking in the scenery as it changed around you. It didn’t snow here; the air was crisp, the breeze carried faint traces of salt from the sea. The bustling cityscape of Seoul was a stark contrast to the quieter, more laid back atmosphere of Busan. You found yourself admiring the differences, marveling at how a different part of Korea could feel so distinct yet familiar.

The person beside you was lost in thought, grappling with something entirely different.

In just about a day, Jungkook would come face to face with the girl he once swore was the love of his life — the one who had ruined love for him. Nine years ago. Almost an entire era of his existence had passed since they last saw each other, back when he was just a seventeen year old kid. She had been the center of his world once, and even after she broke up with him, she still lingered in his mind.

During the midst of the long drive, you’d fallen asleep. The steady hum of the car and the rhythm of the road had cradled you into a peaceful slumber. But as the journey came to an end, so did your nap, when you felt a gentle pressure on your arm.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting the soft glow of the garage door in front of the driveway. You blinked a few times, your vision adjusting to the new surroundings, before pulling your headphones off your head.

“Sleep well?” Jungkook’s voice broke through the haze of sleep, his smirk evident even before you looked at him.

“Mmm, sitting up and with my neck bent? Slept so good,” you tease, a sarcastic smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you stretch your stiff limbs.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but there’s a playful edge to his response. He presses the button to turn off the car. “Let’s go inside. I’m fucking beat,” he says, his voice casual, but the tiredness in his tone betrays how much he’s ready to be done with the drive.

You stretch one more time, a satisfying crack running down your spine as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You glance out the window, your eyes falling on Jungkook’s childhood home. It’s a beautiful house, its exterior glowing warmly under the lights, casting long shadows. 

It’s a home that likely holds countless memories for him. You can almost imagine the sound of laughter, of family dinners and the warmth of his parents’ love. The kind of place where so many moments, both small and monumental, are tucked away in corners.

“Coming?” Jungkook calls, his voice carrying a teasing edge. You snap your head toward him, catching the sight of him leaning down, his head poking just enough from the car door so he can see you clearly. His mischievous grin matches the playful tone in his voice. “Or you gonna sleep in here some more?”

You raise an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk. “Keep fucking with me, and I’ll drive your car back home and leave you here,” you warn, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He clicks his tongue in mock frustration, rolling his eyes dramatically, clearly amused by your threat. “Girl, hurry up,” he retorts, the playful irritation in his tone betraying how little he actually means it.

You chuckle before you grab your purse and swing the door open. The cold air rushes in, sharp and biting against your skin, but you barely notice as the playful tension between the two of you lingers in the space between the car and the house.

You shut the car door with a soft thud before making your way to the back of the car. Jungkook is already there, pulling out the suitcases like it’s second nature — his sleek black one in one hand and your unmistakeable pink one in the other.

“I could’ve got it myself, you know,” you say, reaching out to press the button that automatically closes the trunk.

“Sure you could’ve,” he quips without missing a beat, effortlessly balancing both suitcases as if they weigh nothing. “But I can’t have my girlfriend going around carrying her stuff. That’s what I’m here for.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, though the smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your true feelings. You two weren’t even inside yet and he was already playing boyfriend. “You’re annoying.”

Jungkook merely smirks, adjusting his grip on the luggage with practiced ease. "Yet, here you are," he teases, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. Without waiting for a reply, he strides past you, carrying both suitcases as if they weighed nothing. Of course, he wasn't just dragging them by the wheels; Jungkook wouldn't dare let them get scratched up. He doesn't even glance back as he says over his shoulder, "And you can't say that to me. I'm your boyfriend, remember?"

You let out a soft laugh, biting back a retort, and simply trail after him, the cold breeze nips at your cheeks as the warmth of his playful energy draws you closer.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon not long before you woke up. The neighborhood was peaceful, a stark contrast to the buzz of the city you were used to. It felt like time moved slower here, as if everyone respected the rhythm of each other's lives. The only sound came from the faint crunch of pavement beneath your Uggs, a small echo that followed you as you walked behind Jungkook toward the front door.

Jungkook reached the door first, the suitcases set down on each side of him as he pressed the doorbell. The sound of the melodic chime was faint but clear, cutting through the stillness of the night. You barely had a second to process it before the door swung open.

The first thing that hit you wasn't the warmth of the house or the inviting scent of cinnamon, pumpkin spice candles, or the faint pine from the Christmas tree you could see in the distance.

No, it was her.

The woman who opened the door was stunning. She stood there, framed by the doorway, dressed elegantly in a red blouse that complemented her bold, perfectly applied red lipstick. Her silky, dark hair fell in long waves around her shoulders, each strand catching the soft glow of the porch light. Her skin was radiant, practically glowing, free of any signs of age or stress — you just knew her husband didn’t stress her out.

"Ah, finally! I was wondering when you'd be here," she exclaims, her voice warm and inviting as she immediately pulls Jungkook into a hug.

"Hi, Ma," he chuckles softly, his tone affectionate and familiar.

She pulls back slightly, just enough to plant a kiss on his cheek, her smile widening as she takes a moment to admire her youngest son. Her eyes then shift to you, and her expression brightens even more. It's as if she already knows you, her warmth extending effortlessly as she steps forward and wraps you in a hug without hesitation.

You glance up at Jungkook over her shoulder, and he's already mouthing a quick, sheepish apology behind her back. Caught off guard, you freeze for a moment, but the comforting scent of her home wafting from her brings you ease. You lean into the hug, letting her warmth envelop you.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, finding your hands and holding them. “Oh, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says softly, saying your name in a tone that feels so sweet, so genuine, that it tugs at your chest. Her gaze is filled with awe, as if she’s seeing someone she’s already heard so much about, and the kindness in her eyes makes you smile despite yourself.

"It's nice to meet you, too," you chuckle softly, your voice warm and genuine. Her kindness is infectious, and you can't help but feel at ease. "Thank you for having me over," you add, meaning every word.

"Oh, of course!" she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over as she grabs your hands tighter. "I'm so glad you could make it. It's been far too long since I've seen this one with someone."

"Mom," Jungkook says, his tone edged with a mixture of embarrassment and impatience, ready for her to end her swooning.

"Alright, alright," she relents, though the affectionate smile on her face doesn't waver. Releasing your hands, she gestures toward the doorway with a gentle nudge at your shoulder.

"You two must be tired. Let's get you inside."

You step forward as she guides you in, the warmth of her gesture matching the atmosphere inside. Jungkook stays a step behind, standing at the side of the doorway to let you and his mom enter first.

The moment you step inside, the welcoming heat of the house envelops you, melting away the lingering cold that clings stubbornly to your layers of sweaters. With a quiet sigh of relief, you slip off your shoes, letting the warmth of the carpet floors guide you further in. Each step feels like an invitation, the comforting atmosphere drawing you deeper into its embrace.

The living room greets you with a cozy glow, the Christmas tree taking center stage. It's adorned with ornaments, from handmade crafts to glimmering baubles, all illuminated by warm string lights that cast soft reflections onto the nearby walls.

The kitchen's dim lighting spills softly into the space, complementing the golden ambiance. Picture frames hang on the walls, each one a memory.

Mrs. Jeon dismisses you both, urging you two to go upstairs and wind down before dinner. You and Jungkook hum in acknowledgment before he starts up the stairs, his hands gripping the handles of the luggage. You follow closely behind, your pace matching his slower one as he hauls the bags up. The steps creak softly beneath your weight, and your eyes wander to the walls, taking in the baby pictures framed and lined up with care.  

“You were such a cute kid,” you tease, a fond smile curling your lips. “What happened?”  

Jungkook glances back at you, feigning offense. “Don’t act like I’m ugly now.”  

“I didn’t say you were,” you reply sweetly, trailing just behind him.

“So, I’m not ugly?” Jungkook asks, setting his suitcase on the ground before turning the knob and pushing open the door to his bedroom.  

“That’s also not what I said,” you reply, a hint of amusement in your tone.  

He picks up his suitcase again, carrying it into the room and placing it neatly beside your pink one. “Kind of is,” he teases, his words drawn out as if savoring the moment. “Keep it up, and I might start thinking you have a crush on me.”  

“Ugh,” you groan dramatically, scrunching your nose. “You wish.”  

He chuckles, the sound light and carefree, as he strides over to his nightstand and flicks on the lamp.  

The warm glow washes over the room, casting a nostalgic ambiance. Your eyes sweep across his childhood bedroom, taking in the details. Posters of anime characters and superheroes still cling to the blue-painted walls, a testament to the boy he once was. Shelves crammed with trophies, medals, and action figures line one side of the room, proudly showcasing his accomplishments and hobbies. In the corner by the window sits a desk, cluttered yet organized, as if it had been left untouched since his teenage years. It’s clear Jungkook’s mom hadn’t touched his room all these years, preserving it like a time capsule of his youth.  

"I guess one of us is taking the floor," you remark, breaking the silence as you shut the door behind you.

Your eyes flick to the bed in the center of the room, the blue-and-white striped comforter tucked neatly over the mattress. It's spacious — easily big enough for two.

Jungkook turns toward you, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I'll take the floor," he says, his tone light but certain, as if he's already resigned himself to the discomfort.

Despite all the teasing and playful banter you two always fall into, moments like this remind you of who Jungkook truly is: thoughtful, selfless, and entirely too earnest for his own good.  

“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice quieter now, tinged with hesitation.  

He nods firmly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  

You return his smile, stepping closer to the bed and carefully placing your purse on the neatly made comforter. Sharing a bed with Jungkook wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world, but it still felt like a line — one you weren’t entirely sure either of you wanted to cross.

The brief tension in the room dissolves as Jungkook clears his throat, shifting the atmosphere back to something more neutral. He moves to unpack his suitcase, crouching to place it on the floor, his hands working through the neatly folded clothes inside. You lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly beneath your weight.  

Grabbing your own suitcase, you busy yourself as well, the sound of zippers and rustling fabric filling the space. The simplicity of it feels grounding, a quiet prelude to the whirlwind you both know is coming.  

The rest of the evening unfolds seamlessly.

After unpacking, you and Jungkook join his parents for dinner, the warm glow of the dining room making everything feel cozy and intimate. The food is delicious — homemade and hearty — and the conversation flows easily. You find yourself genuinely enjoying their company, feeling more at home than you expected.  

After dinner, you help clear the table despite Jungkook’s insistence that you relax, and his mother beams at you in gratitude. By the time you and Jungkook finally head upstairs, your stomach is full, your cheeks are sore from smiling, and a comfortable warmth lingers in your chest.  

While Jungkook was in the bathroom, unwinding for the night, you stood in his bedroom, slipping into something more comfortable for sleep.

Reaching behind your neck, you unclasped the last of your accessories, your fingers brushing over the familiar chain. And that's when you felt it — the delicate metal snapping apart in your hands.

Your breath hitched as you stared down at the broken necklace, your heart sinking. The piece that had been passed down to you, the one that meant so much, now lay in two fragile halves in your palm.

“No!” you exclaim, your voice sharp and panicked.

Jungkook appears in the doorway within seconds, his brows furrowed with concern, his hair falling into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks, scanning the room as if preparing for the worst. 

“Oh, nothing, sorry,” you pout, holding up the broken chain in your hand, the delicate locket dangling from your fingertips. “My necklace just broke.” Your tone is softer now, but the frustration and sadness are evident. 

Jungkook steps closer, his expression softening as his eyes fall on the piece of jewelry. “Let me see,” he says, his voice calm and steady. 

You hand him the chain, its links split cleanly apart, and the locket, small and aged, but clearly well-loved. His fingers brush yours as he takes it, inspecting the damage with a gentle touch. 

“I’ll get you a new one,” he offers without hesitation, his voice firm with intent. 

You shake your head, though you can’t help but smile at his kindness. “Thanks, but it’s okay,” you say, your voice carrying a bittersweet note. “It was my grandma’s. She gave it to me before she passed.”  

His gaze shifts from the broken chain to your face, his expression softening further. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice low and apologetic. 

“Don’t be,” you reply quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s a feeble attempt to deflect, and you know it. So does Jungkook. He’s perceptive like that — always has been. But instead of pressing the matter, he lets it slide, his silence a quiet mercy.

You walk toward your toiletry bag sitting on the dresser, rummaging through it in search of your lotion. Behind you, Jungkook sneakily pockets the broken necklace without a word.

Without hesitation, he heads for the closet, his movements fluid and unhurried as he retrieves a couple of comforters, draping them over his arm.  

He drops the bundle onto the floor beside the bed and crouches down, carefully arranging his makeshift sleeping area. The soft rustle of fabric fills the room as he spreads one comforter out as a base, smoothing over the creases with practiced ease.  

“You really don’t have to do that,” you murmur, your voice gentle as you settle onto the bed, watching him.  

Jungkook glances up at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “It’s fine,” he replies, the simplicity of his words carrying an unspoken certainty.  

You observe him as he finishes setting up, his movements unbothered, almost second nature. When he finally stretches out on the floor, arms folded behind his head, he looks far too relaxed for someone who willingly chose the hardwood over the comfort of the bed.  

“Comfortable?” you ask, raising a brow, your tone laced with amusement.

“As comfortable as the floor can get,” he jokes, running a hand through his hair with an easy grin.  

You shake your head, chuckling softly, but the warmth spreading through your chest lingers — a quiet appreciation for his effort.  

The room settles into a comfortable silence, the muffled hum of the night pressing in through the walls. The faint scent of fresh linens mingles with the soft sweetness of your lotion, wrapping around you like a gentle cocoon. You tug the covers higher, the warmth seeping into your skin as your gaze drifts downward.  

Jungkook lies sprawled out on the makeshift bed, his face partially illuminated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp. The golden light casts soft shadows along the sharp angles of his jaw, highlighting the quiet ease in his features. There’s something unreadable in his expression, but the calmness about him is infectious, settling over you like a lull.  

“Mom told me she likes you a lot,” he says suddenly, his voice low and steady, breaking the stillness.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by his words. “Oh, really?” you ask, aiming for a casual tone, though the slight waver in your voice betrays your curiosity.  

He nods, resting his head on one hand, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice soft yet laced with amusement. "She said I should treat you well… so I don’t lose a good thing."  

His words linger between you, unexpected yet undeniably warm. A surprised smile tugs at your lips as heat creeps up your neck, spreading faster than you’d like. You glance away, attempting to play it cool. "That’s really sweet of her," you say, keeping your tone light despite the flutter in your chest. "But how exactly are we going to break it to her that your beautiful, amazing, perfect girlfriend… isn’t actually your girlfriend?"  

Jungkook huffs a small, disbelieving laugh, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We’ll figure that out soon,” he says, voice low and certain. “For now… don’t worry about it.”

You wake up abruptly, blinking against the morning light streaming through the curtains. Your mind feels hazy, and you can’t quite piece together the moments before you fell asleep. Sitting up, you glance toward the floor, only to find Jungkook’s makeshift bed empty and disheveled.

Right on cue, the door creaks open, and in walks Jungkook. Your breath catches in your throat. His hair is damp, droplets clinging to the strands and dripping onto his broad shoulders. A towel hangs precariously low on his hips, barely covering enough. His tattooed arm, ink running from his shoulder down to his fingers, flexes as he pushes the door shut behind him. Your gaze betrays you, trailing down the contours of his chest, his toned abs glistening with water droplets, and further down to the deep V-line teasing just above the towel’s edge.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice casual as if he isn’t standing there half-naked and looking like a walking thirst trap.

“You’re naked,” you mock.

He glances down at himself, running a hand lazily down his abs, a motion that only emphasizes his physique. “Nope, I’ve got a towel on.” His lips curl into a smirk as he meets your gaze. “Why? You tryna see more?”

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, heat rushing to your face as you yank the blanket over your head, effectively shielding yourself from the sight.

“I’m kidding!” he laughs, his voice rich with amusement, and you can practically hear the grin on his face.

After a moment of muffled indignation, you peek out from the safety of your blanket. Jungkook has turned to his dresser, his back muscles shifting and flexing with every movement as he searches for clothes. You hesitate, your gaze lingering longer than it should, admiring the way the morning light outlines the definition of his shoulders and back.  

“Are you done staring, or should I pose for a picture?” he teases without turning around, his voice laced with playful smugness.

You groan, throwing yourself back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”  

He chuckles again, pulling out a sweater and jeans. “Relax. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom.” He tosses a wink over his shoulder before heading back out, leaving you alone to cool down your burning cheeks and racing heart.  

The room feels quieter once he’s gone, but his presence lingers in the charged air, heavy and undeniable. You throw the blanket off with a sigh, sitting up and running a hand through your hair, trying to push away the thoughts swirling in your mind. His teasing smirk, the droplets of water trailing down his skin, the way he stood there so casually — it was all too much.  

You stand abruptly, the need to escape the confined space overwhelming. The cool floor beneath your feet grounds you slightly as you make your way to the door. Heading downstairs feels like the only option, the only way to clear your head and put some distance between yourself and the overwhelming presence of Jungkook.  

The staircase creaks softly under your weight as you descend, the faint hum of morning activity filtering up from the kitchen. The smell of coffee drifts through the air, warm and inviting, a contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside you.  

The open space of the living room feels like a relief, but the image of him lingers in your mind, unshakable. You take a deep breath, your steps slower now as you reach the kitchen, hoping the steady rhythm of the house will settle the tension knotting in your chest.  

But even as you move through the familiar space, you can’t help the way your thoughts betray you, replaying the moments upstairs. The sight of him, so effortless, so... distracting. You shake your head, trying to push it all away, determined to focus on anything else as the morning unfolds.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the sound of someone moving around greets you. Mrs. Jeon is already up, a warm smile on her face as she spots you. "Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I did. Thank you."

Her smile widens, and she hands you a steaming mug of coffee. "Good. Jungkook's not giving you a hard time, is he?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Not yet."

Oh, he definitely already was. But she didn’t need to know that.

She chuckles softly, the sound warm and familiar, as you take a sip of the coffee she brewed for you. You savor the drink, the warmth spreading through your chest, and just as you’re about to compliment her coffee making skills, Mrs. Jeon speaks first, her voice breaking the silence.  

"So, I assume you know who's coming over tonight?" she asks. Her gaze meets yours briefly, a knowing look flickering in her eyes.

The question catches you mid-sip, and you lower your mug slowly, nodding in quiet acknowledgment. You haven't fully unpacked the weight of what's to come tonight, but denying it feels pointless now.

Mrs. Jeon's expression softens, the corners of her lips curving into a kind, almost maternal smile. "I'm sorry, honey," she says, her tone gentle but sincere.

“No, there’s no need to apologize,” you reply, doing your best to sound steady, even as a flicker of unease gnaws at the edges of your composure. “It’s… really okay.”  

“Surely it isn’t,” she says softly. “If circumstances were different, I wouldn’t have put you in this situation in a heartbeat.”  

Her words hit you harder than you expect, stirring emotions you weren't prepared to confront. It's like a sudden weight pressing down on your chest, an ache that you can't quite place. You swallow hard, the once comforting warmth of your coffee now tasting bitter on your tongue.

"Thank you," you murmur, your voice soft and measured. Your gaze falls to your mug, fingers curling tighter around it, as though its warmth might quiet the unease swirling in your chest. After a pause, you add, "I really appreciate it, but as long as Jungkook’s okay, I’ll be okay."

Mrs. Jeon hums, the sound warm and heartfelt, a quiet acknowledgment of your sincerity. “You’re a good one,” she says, breaking the silence. “Jungkook’s been through a lot over the years. Seeing him happy like this... it makes me happy, too. So, thank you — for being there for him.”

The words strike a chord, and you feel a sudden, sharp pang of guilt twist in your stomach. You glance up at her, her kind eyes meeting yours, and it takes everything in you to keep your composure. She believes you’re the reason for Jungkook’s happiness, that your relationship with him is real, and the weight of that misunderstanding feels heavier than ever.

“It’s nothing, really,” you say, though your voice wavers ever so slightly. “I care about him a lot and he’s always been there for me, too.”  

She offers a genuine smile, her expression warm and inviting, but before she can say anything more, the soft creak of footsteps descending the stairs catches both your attention. You glance toward the staircase just as Jungkook comes into view, his presence commanding.  

He’s dressed casually yet somehow manages to look effortlessly put together in a beige knitted cardigan layered over a plain white tee, paired with light-washed baggy jeans that hang perfectly on his frame. His hair, still damp from his recent shower, clings to his forehead in soft strands.

The morning light streaming through the windows catches the subtle sheen of water in his hair, making him look... warm, almost domestic in a way that feels oddly intimate. He steps forward, sock-covered feet brushing against the floor, and suddenly, it feels like the air in the room has shifted.

"Speaking of the devil," Mrs. Jeon teases, her playful smile accompanied by a raised eyebrow in your direction.

You let out a soft giggle, as you lift the mug to your lips. The warmth of the coffee spreads through you, rich and comforting, a small distraction from the nervous flutter in your chest. It's delicious, just like everything else she's prepared since you arrived, a subtle testament to her care and hospitality.

"Oh, talking about me already?" Jungkook's voice pulls your attention as he strolls into the kitchen.

"Only the good things," Mrs. Jeon replies warmly, turning to grab a mug from the cabinet. She reaches for the coffee pot and fills the mug, steam curling into the air. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Morning, Ma," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly from sleep.

Then, without warning, Jungkook steps closer, wrapping his arm casually around your shoulders. Before you can react, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, the soft warmth of his lips lingering far longer in your mind than on your skin.

If Mrs. Jeon weren't standing right there, you would've shoved him away playfully. Instead, you do the only thing you can — lean into the moment, letting the weight of his arm anchor you in this charade.

Mrs. Jeon's smile doesn't falter as she watches the two of you, her gaze warm and affectionate. She hands the coffee to Jungkook, who mutters a soft thank you before taking a sip, his arm still comfortably draped around your shoulders.

He’s good at this — too good. The way his smile comes so effortlessly, the way his body instinctively leans into yours as though it’s second nature, makes it almost impossible to remember that this is all just an act, a carefully crafted part of the plan.  

You thought this would be easy. After all, Jungkook had always been just Jungkook to you — a friend, a constant presence, someone familiar and safe. But now, with the memory of his bare torso lingering stubbornly in your mind, your cheeks flush at the worst moments, and your thighs press together involuntarily when the thought sneaks back in.  

Mrs. Jeon moves gracefully around the kitchen, her voice warm and full of life as she talks about plans for the day. You nod and hum in agreement, but your mind is far away. Guilt churns like a storm in your chest, heavy and unrelenting, rising anew every time Mrs. Jeon sends a kind, approving smile your way.  

When she looks at you, it’s with such pride, as though she’s thrilled her son has found someone like you. And for a fleeting second, you almost wish it were true. You wish you could live up to the image of the person she clearly thinks you are. But you’re not. You’re just playing a part in a story she doesn’t know is fake.  

Jungkook’s hand rests casually on the back of your chair, his fingers brushing against your shoulder lightly, as if to remind you that he’s there. The touch should be comforting — it is comforting — but it also sets your nerves on fire. The warmth of him, so close, so steady, only makes the tightness in your chest worse.

The room is suffocating despite its cozy charm. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling breakfast mingles in the air, but it’s not enough to drown out the heaviness in your heart. Still, you press forward, past the discomfort and the guilt. If nothing else, you remind yourself, you’re doing this for him.

What was once a quiet, serene home now buzzes with warmth, laughter, and conversation. The lively energy catches you off guard, and before you can fully take it in, a high-pitched voice squeals through the air.

"Kookie!"

Your attention snaps to the source just as Jungkook's face lights up, his entire demeanor shifting into something softer, more playful.

"Jihyun!" he calls back, crouching slightly and stretching his arms wide open in anticipation.

A little girl, no older than four, comes bounding into view. She's dressed in an adorable red blouse and a denim skirt, her two space buns bouncing as she sprints toward him. Without hesitation, she flings herself into his waiting arms, colliding with him in a way that makes him stumble back a step with a playful groan.

He lifts her effortlessly, holding her securely against him as she giggles wildly. "I missed you so much," he murmurs into her shoulder, his voice tender and full of adoration.

"Me too!" she replies, her small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. The pure joy in her voice makes your chest ache in the sweetest way.

You can't help but smile as you watch the interaction, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of Jungkook so effortlessly in his element. The way he holds her, talks to her, and grins from ear to ear — it's a side of him you don't get to see often, and it's undeniably endearing.

She pulls back slightly, her tiny hands still gripping Jungkook's shoulders as she admires his face with a bright smile. You can't help but admire her in return — her big, glossy boba eyes are so reminiscent of Jungkook's that it makes your heart squeeze. She's adorable, with a lively sparkle in her gaze and a face that's impossible not to love.

Jungkook glances at you, catching your gaze as he tilts his head slightly, silently beckoning you closer. You step forward, your hand naturally resting on his bicep as you meet his gentle smile.

"Nini, say hi," Jungkook coaxes softly, bouncing her in his arms just enough to make her giggle.

The little girl turns her attention to you, her eyes wide and curious as they meet yours. For a moment, you're captivated by the way they seem to shine, full of wonder and mischief.

You give her a warm smile and a small wave. “Hi," you say softly, your tone as gentle as the moment feels.

Her lips curl into a shy grin, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she mimics your wave and chirps, "Hi." Her voice is small and sweet, and you feel your heart melt instantly.

"This is my Nini," Jungkook says, his tone affectionate as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. He then introduces you by name, emphasizing it just enough for her to catch on.

She tilts her head slightly, testing the sound of your name on her lips. Her tiny voice repeats it, and the way she says it with a soft lilt makes you smile even wider.

"Good job," you say gently, your voice full of encouragement. "You said it perfectly."

She beams at the praise, her little giggle filling the space as she snuggles into Jungkook's chest. He scrunches his nose, fingers lightly tickling her sides, drawing more laughter from her tiny frame. The sight is endearing — so much so that it disarms you completely. This isn't the Jungkook you're used to seeing. It's a domestic, almost paternal side of him that pulls at something deep within you, leaving your thoughts to wander places they shouldn't.

You know better, but your mind betrays you. There's something about the way he holds her so effortlessly, the way his smile reaches his eyes, that stirs a warmth low in your tummy. Whatever the reason, the thought of Jungkook as a father, with kids of his own — and worse, the intrusive idea of them being your kids — leaves your face getting all hot.

Still, the thought lingers in the back of your mind, unwanted and insistent. You try to focus on anything else — the hum of conversation in the other room, the clinking of plates — but all you can see is the way Jungkook glances down at her, his love for her so visible it practically glows.

"What's up, bro!" a man exclaims, striding up to Jungkook with an easy grin, pulling him into a tight hug. Jihyun squeals, sandwiched between the two of them.

"Hey," Jungkook greets, patting the man's back with a grin of his own.  

The man’s focus shifts to you, his demeanor softening into something more formal but equally welcoming. His eyes light up with a polite curiosity, and he steps forward, extending a hand. "Hi, I’m Junghyun, Jungkook’s brother."  

You take his hand, matching his smile with one of your own as you introduce yourself. His handshake is firm yet warm, the kind that immediately puts you at ease. There’s a quiet confidence in his manner, one that seems to run in the family.  

“It’s really nice to meet you,” he says, his smile lingering as if he’s sizing you up in the most good-natured way possible.  

“Likewise,” you reply, your voice steady, though there’s a faint flutter of nerves in your chest — meeting Jungkook’s family feels like crossing an invisible threshold.  

Jihyun squirms free from Jungkook's arms, her little body wriggling with determination until she finally escapes his grasp. The moment her feet hit the floor, she reaches for you, her tiny fingers slipping into yours. She tugs at your hand — gently at first, then more insistently — as if she has something very important to show you in the living room.

"Thief!" Jungkook calls after her, feigning offense.

Jihyun only giggles, her mischievous little laugh filling the room like music. She glances back at him with a playful grin before tightening her grip on you and pulling you forward, eager and excited.

She leads you to a cozy spot on the carpet where a toy tea set is laid out, its bright colors inviting. She sits, pointing to the space across from her. As you settle down, your gaze flickers to the woman seated near you. She cradles a baby in her arms, her beauty striking but softened by the warm smile she sends your way.  

“Would you like some tea?” Jihyun asks, her voice carrying the kind of serious charm only a child could muster. She holds up the tiny porcelain teapot with both hands, her expression adorably earnest.  

You play along, grabbing the delicate toy teacup and its matching saucer, holding them forward. “Why yes, I would love some,” you reply, your tone as playful as hers.  

Jihyun’s giggle is pure delight as she mimics pouring tea, her little hands moving with exaggerated precision. You both lift your cups and take pretend sips, the air between you filled with laughter and the sweetness of a make-believe moment.  

The woman beside you watches the scene unfold with a soft chuckle, her baby gurgling quietly in her arms, adding its own tiny contribution to the cheerful atmosphere.

“You’re really great with kids,” she says, her tone sincere and appreciative.  

You glance over, returning her smile with one of your own. “Thank you. I’ve had my fair share of babysitting over the years.” Your gaze flicks to Jihyun, who’s now meticulously arranging plastic pastries on the carpet. “She’s absolutely adorable.”  

“She is,” the woman agrees, a soft laugh escaping her. “Though she can definitely be a handful when she wants to be. But she gets away with it because she’s cute.”  

You chuckle at her playful tone, shifting your gaze to the little one nestled in her arms. “And what about this one?” you ask, nodding toward the baby.  

“Much calmer,” she replies, glancing down at the tiny bundle in her arms with obvious affection. “At least for now. Ask me again when he starts walking — then I might have a different answer.”  

You chuckle, the warmth of the moment settling around you like a cozy blanket. Your gaze drifts to Jihyun, who carefully lifts her teacup to her teddy bear's snout, her tiny hands steady with concentration. The sight tugs at your heart, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"I'm Yeona, Junghyun's wife," the woman says warmly, her smile reaching her eyes as she shifts the baby slightly in her arms.

You return her smile, introducing yourself as Jungkook's girlfriend. The words feel foreign on your tongue, but not entirely unnatural.

"I've known Jungkook since he was a teenager, and I haven't seen him with someone in a long time. I know you're probably tired of hearing this by now, but we're genuinely so happy to have you here."

You tilt your head slightly, a soft warmth spreading through your chest at her sincerity. "Thank you, I'm happy to be here," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine.

The baby in her arms suddenly coos, little arms flailing as his tiny face scrunches up with curiosity. Yeona glances down at him and then back at you. "Do you wanna hold him?"

You blink in surprise. "If it's alright?"

"Of course!" she says, carefully moving to hand him over.

You extend your arms, palms open, as she passes the baby to you. His tiny weight settles against you, warm and soft. He doesn't cry or fuss, his wide, innocent eyes locking onto yours. Instead, he lets out another coo, his small hands curling in the air as if reaching for something unseen.

“Do you want kids?” Yeona asks, her tone casual but curious.  

The question catches you off guard with its directness, especially since you’ve only just met her. Yet, there’s no malice or prying in her voice — just genuine curiosity. It’s a question you realize no one has ever bothered to ask you before. Oddly enough, you appreciate her candor.  

“I do,” you admit, your voice soft but certain.  

“Good,” she replies with a knowing smile. “Because I know he does too.”  

Before you can form a response — before you can explain that you and Jungkook aren’t quite what she thinks you are — Yeona rises gracefully from her spot on the carpet, heading toward the kitchen.  

You exhale, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. That’s when you feel it: a familiar warmth pressing against your back, a weight that immediately grounds you. A chin rests lightly on your shoulder, and a hand — adorned with tattoos you’d recognize anywhere — reaches forward to gently touch the baby’s nose.  

Just then, the baby in your arms fusses, his tiny hands swatting at Jungkook’s fingers as if to protest the playful intrusion. Jungkook chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. You glance back at him, a playful glare in your eyes.  

“Stop it,” you whisper with mock sternness, shifting the baby slightly to soothe him. But Jungkook only grins, clearly enjoying the little moment.  

The thought of leaving this — leaving them — in a few months presses heavy on your chest. This family dynamic, this love and connection, feels so genuine. And yet, deep down, you know your place here isn’t meant to last.

But the warmth of Jungkook’s presence, the ease of the laughter surrounding you, makes it harder to remember that this is all an act. A role you’re playing, despite how genuine it feels. Despite how often they tell you how happy they are to have you here.

The sun goes down, and the Christmas lights strung all around the house cast a soft, warm glow that dances across the walls. Their gentle twinkle feels almost magical, a comforting contrast to the slight edge of tension creeping into the evening. The dinner hour is drawing near, and with it, Misa’s arrival looms closer.  

But despite the weight of anticipation in the air, Jungkook feels a surprising calmness wash over him — much calmer than he had been just days before. Maybe it’s his niece laughing her lungs away, a sweet distraction that tugs his focus away from the knot of worry in his chest. Or maybe it’s watching you, seamlessly blending into his family like you’ve belonged here all along. The sight of you laughing with his sister-in-law in the kitchen stirs something in him he hasn’t felt in a while — something warm, soft, and a little dizzying.  

His gaze follows you as you make your way toward him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. You settle onto the couch next to him, your closeness becomes all too apparent. Your knees are bent, legs resting lightly on his thigh. His arm stretches out along the back of the couch, hovering just behind your shoulders.  

The space between you is minimal — comfortable in a way that feels almost... intimate. It’s the kind of closeness that real couples share, a moment so effortlessly tender it catches him off guard.  

But he isn’t uncomfortable. Far from it. There’s a quiet ease in how natural this feels, and for a moment, he lets himself savor it. This — whatever this is — doesn’t feel like an act at all.

“Warming up quickly, aren’t you?” Jungkook teases, his big, round eyes glinting with amusement, the soft glow of the lights catching on his lip piercings.  

“Well, I’m considered family here, so I kind of have to,” you joke, giggling softly at the way his eyes widen in mock surprise. “No, but seriously,” you continue, your voice lighter now, “everyone is very nice and welcoming.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it here,” he says, his tone softer, sincerity threading through the words.  

“Me too,” you reply with a gentle smile, a warmth blooming in your chest that you try not to overthink.

Your gaze drops to Jihyun, who is engrossed in her dolls on the living room floor. Toys are scattered all around her, but she's focused on the one in her hand, turning it this way and that. You can't help but smile softly, your attention anchored to her every movement.

Jungkook doesn't look away. His eyes remain on you, not the child or the cluttered mess around her, but you. He watches the way your expression softens, the way a small, unspoken tenderness lights up your features as you watch Jihyun.

And for him, that's all there is. The conversations buzzing faintly in the kitchen, the faint tick of the clock on the wall, even the weight of the evening ahead — it all fades away.

But then your focus shifted. Your gaze lifted from Jihyun to the new arrivals at the door, and instinctively, his followed.  

And there she was.  

Misa.  

Her hair is different now. Gone is the bold cherry red that once defined her vibrant, carefree spirit, the color she wore like a crown in high school. Instead, her hair is sleek and black, the deep shade a striking contrast to the one he remembered so well. It gives her an air of elegance, of maturity, but there’s still something undeniably familiar about her — the subtle tilt of her head, the curve of her lips when she smiles.

She looks older, more refined, yet still unmistakably herself, as if time had simply smoothed out the edges of the girl he once knew so intimately. It’s like flipping through the pages of an old, beloved book, only to find that some of the words have changed. There’s nostalgia, yes, but also an overwhelming sense of uncertainty that settles in his chest, heavy and persistent.

That smile. The same one he loved for years. Those eyes, the ones that once held his world in their gaze. Her politeness, her grace — they’re all still there, but it’s as though everything else is different now. The way she moves, the way she carries herself. It’s familiar, yes, but also strangely foreign, like he’s looking at someone he used to know but hasn’t seen in far too long.

It confuses him. He should be excited. But he’s not. Because this isn’t the Misa he remembers. This is someone else entirely — someone he doesn’t know how to reach.

When she approaches, he stands from the couch, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You take it, the gesture both reassuring and strange, and stand beside him as she makes her way toward them.

"Hi," she says, her voice soft, but with that unmistakable warmth he’s always known.

It’s a simple greeting, but it hits him like a wave. For a moment, he freezes. The words don’t come as easily as they once did. She’s standing there in front of him, and yet, it feels as if there’s an entire ocean between them.

"Hi," he responds, his voice a little breathless, as if his mind has been running a marathon trying to find the right words to say.

“It’s been a while,” she says, her smile warm, genuine.

He chuckles awkwardly, the sound forced but heartfelt. "It has. How’ve you been?"

“I’m doing good,” she replies, nodding slightly, her expression soft but sincere. There's a certain calmness about her now, an ease that shows in her eyes, and it hits him all at once — she’s doing well. Without him. Without ever needing him. "And you?"

He nods, but the smile doesn’t come. It’s a stiff, practiced motion, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Me too."

Her smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of something in her gaze, something he can’t quite place. It’s fleeting, gone before he can analyze it. Her attention shifts to you then, and for the briefest of moments, he’s left to stand there, caught between the past and the present, unsure of which direction to take.

"Hi, I’m Misa," she says, her tone warmer now as she extends a hand towards you.

You take her hand with your free one, your smile genuine but soft, offering your name as you introduce yourself. Misa’s grip is firm but warm, and she smiles, the edges of her eyes crinkling in a way that reminds you of someone who’s seen the world and learned how to navigate it with grace.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she says sincerely, her voice calm but warm, like a gentle breeze that carries a subtle weight.

“You too,” you smile, matching her warmth.

You take a moment to observe Misa as she stands before you, and it’s hard not to admit she’s undeniably beautiful. The way her features seem to fall into place so effortlessly, how her smile is radiant but reserved, just enough to pull you in without revealing everything. It’s easy to see why Jungkook was so captivated by her in the past.

Now, seeing her in person, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. The woman behind the stories, behind the name that always seemed to linger in his conversations, now standing right in front of you.

It’s almost surreal, meeting her. There’s a strange satisfaction in finally putting a face to the name that you’ve heard so much about. The realization settles over you like a quiet understanding. She’s beautiful, yes, but there’s something else too — a softness, a strength, an elegance that feels like it has been built over years of lived experience.

“Well, I won’t keep you two,” she says with a smile, her voice warm but carrying a certain finality. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you and Jungkook reply in unison, the words almost automatic, yet carrying their own weight as she turns to greet the others. Her presence lingers in the air, the faint scent of her perfume still hanging in the space where she stood.

Jungkook’s eyes follow Misa as she greets the others with that same effortless charm. But it’s different now. The girl he once knew, the one who filled his thoughts with reckless dreams and laughter, isn’t here anymore. The girl in front of him is someone else — someone more polished, more refined, and maybe a little bit distant. 

He feels it, that ache in his chest, a tug of something he can’t quite name. It’s like he’s mourning the loss of someone, of a version of Misa that only existed in the past. The way she used to laugh, how she would look at him with eyes full of mischief and warmth. That’s the girl he remembers, the one he never thought he’d lose touch with.

But now, the girl who used to be his best friend, the one he could confide in, is standing just a few feet away from him, and he doesn’t know her anymore. Not really. The way she’s carrying herself, the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes when she looks at him — he’s lost that closeness, that ease they once shared. It’s like she's become a stranger wrapped in familiarity.

And it hurts more than he thought it would. He feels it deep in his bones, this shift, this subtle but undeniable change. He thought he was ready for this moment, ready to see her again. But nothing prepares you for the feeling of watching someone you once knew inside and out transform into someone unrecognizable.

Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightens involuntarily, his eyes following Misa as she moves through the room, laughing with the others, her attention elsewhere. His chest feels tight, and the weight of the years spent apart suddenly hits him like a wave. He’s standing here, surrounded by people, but it’s like he’s alone in his own thoughts, trapped in the past he can’t quite shake off.

“You okay?” he hears your voice, soft and gentle. You’re looking at him with concern, and for a moment, it feels like you’re the only thing grounding him in the present.

He swallows, trying to push the tightness in his chest away, but it lingers. “Yeah, just…” He trails off, not sure how to explain it. How do you tell someone that seeing her again feels like losing her all over again? That the version of Misa he’s been holding onto for all these years is gone, and he doesn’t know how to navigate the space between them anymore?

“Just feels… different,” he admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying the words out loud will make them too real. And maybe they already are.

The house grows livelier, the comforting scent of homemade food filling every corner.

Mrs. Jeon and Misa’s mom work side by side in the kitchen, their movements fluid and practiced. They bustle around, chopping, stirring, and laughing at the small jokes they share, not letting anyone near their territory. You, eager to lend a hand, tried multiple times to help, but Mrs. Jeon shooed you away with a gentle but firm hand, her eyes twinkling as she insisted you relax and enjoy yourself. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook, his brother, and their father are deep in conversation. Their voices rise and fall in a rhythm that feels so familiar, punctuated by bursts of laughter that echo through the house. Their father’s laughter is loud and boisterous, full of life, as he catches up with his grown sons — talking about everything from their childhood to what they’d been up to since the last time they’d all been together. It’s a rare moment, one that makes the room feel warm and full of love.

You, in contrast, are seated on the floor, a small toy in one hand as you help Jihyun build an impressive block tower. The little one giggles each time you manage to stack another piece, her tiny hands eager to mimic your movements.

Yeona and Misa sit across the room, talking softly between themselves, their conversation a quiet hum against the liveliness of the house. It’s clear they’re speaking about things you don’t fully understand — topics that feel far more mature than anything you’d normally discuss.

They carry themselves with a kind of quiet confidence, a level of poise you’ve always associated with people who’ve been through more than their fair share of life’s ups and downs. There’s a grace to how they both interact, almost as if they’ve mastered this whole adult thing without breaking a sweat.

You can’t help but feel a little out of place. There’s a maturity about them that you can’t quite match, one that makes you feel like you’re not quite there yet — like you’re still fumbling through things they’ve long since figured out. Their conversation, so natural and poised, makes you wonder how much you have yet to experience, how much you still have to learn before you can carry yourself with the same ease.

It’s not that you think they’re better, but there’s something undeniably different about how they present themselves. You wonder if you’ll ever feel as sure of yourself, as poised as they seem to be, or if you’re just going to keep stumbling along, trying to keep up.

"Auntie," Jihyun calls out, her small voice cutting through the noise in the room. You snap your head around, eyes wide, trying to process what you just heard. Did she really just call you that? The word lingers in the air like it doesn’t belong to you, like it's some unfamiliar title you’re not quite sure you deserve.

You stare at her for a moment, trying to make sense of it. Her innocent gaze is fixed on you, her small hand outstretched in an inviting gesture, as though it’s perfectly natural for her to call you that. She tilts her head slightly, her brown eyes full of trust, as she says it again, "Come with me."

A flicker of surprise crosses your face, but there's a warmth growing in your chest that you can’t ignore. Jihyun’s eager smile tugs at your heartstrings, the innocent way she looks at you, as if you’re exactly who she wanted.

You blink a few times, shaking off the surprise, and let a soft smile slip onto your lips. “Did you just call me Auntie?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

She nods enthusiastically, oblivious to the impact of the word, her small face lighting up with joy. “Yes! Come with me, Auntie.”

For a moment, you just stand there, processing her innocent certainty. It’s unexpected, yet there’s something so pure about it. You can’t help but feel a twinge of warmth spreading through you, a connection forming in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Maybe it’s the way she looks at you, or how she’s trusting you in this simple, childlike way.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. You glance around the room, half-expecting someone to laugh or correct her, but when nothing comes, you realize that, for Jihyun, this just makes sense. 

With a fond smile, you step forward, your heart lighter. “Okay,” you say, taking her small hand in yours, letting her lead you to whatever adventure she has planned.

Her tiny hands wrap around a few of your fingers, tugging you along with her insistent little grip. You let her lead, smiling softly at her enthusiasm as she weaves through the crowd in the living room and drags you toward the kitchen. When you reach the archway that frames the transition between the two spaces, she halts abruptly, turning to you with wide, innocent eyes.

"Stay here," she commands with all the authority a child her size can muster before darting off again.

Confused but amused, you lean against the archway, watching her scurry away. Moments later, she reappears, this time with Jungkook. He's laughing softly, his brow furrowed as he follows her like he doesn't have a choice.

"Nini, what are you doing?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful exasperation.

She doesn't answer, not until she's positioned him squarely in front of you. Then, she takes a step back, clapping her little hands together as though presenting her masterpiece.

"Mistletoe!" she exclaims triumphantly, pointing above you.

Your jaw drops, eyes immediately darting upward. Sure enough, hanging from the archway is a small sprig of mistletoe, placed there at some point in the evening's festivities.

Jungkook chuckles, his laughter low and rumbling. "You sneaky little-" He reaches out to grab her, but she squeals and darts away, her giggles echoing through the house. She runs straight to her grandfather, climbing onto his lap.

Jungkook's dad grins, his hand resting protectively on her head as she peeks out. "It's tradition, guys," he says with a laugh, his tone light and teasing.

"Come on, this isn't appropriate," Jungkook protests, rubbing the back of his neck. His ears are slightly pink, though he keeps his composure.

"Since when were you so shy?" Junghyun teases, his tone light and playful as he watches the scene unfold. There's a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly amused by his daughter's antics and Jungkook's uncharacteristic hesitation.

"Hyung," Jungkook mutters, his jaw tightening as he throws his brother a sharp look. But it only fuels Junghyun's grin.

"She's just trying to spread some Christmas spirit," Junghyun continues, feigning innocence but failing to hide his amusement.

Jungkook is respecting your boundary, you know he is. He remembers what you said — no kissing.

But standing here, with his eyes flickering to yours, the laughter of his family around you, and the weight of his presence so close, the rule you set suddenly feels... unnecessary.

Your gaze drops to his lips, just for a second, and you realize the thought doesn't terrify you like it did before. Kissing him wouldn't be bad. In fact, it feels like the only thing that would make sense in this moment.

Jungkook clears his throat, his voice quieter when he speaks. "We don't have to-"

But before he can finish, you take a step closer, your arms instinctively finding their way around his neck. His words falter, replaced by a breath caught in his throat, as your lips press softly against his.

The living room erupts instantly — dramatic whoops and cheers filling the air. Jihyun squeals in delight, clapping her hands as if she's just orchestrated the most important moment of the year. Her giggles echo above the noise, the proud little culprit reveling in her success.

Jungkook freezes for the briefest of moments, his body tensing under your touch, as if unsure whether to let himself lean into this. But then, slowly, he softens, melting into the kiss. His lips are soft, warmer than you expected, and there's a gentle hesitance in the way he responds — like he's carefully toeing the line, wary of your boundaries but still allowing himself to savor the moment.

The world seems to narrow to just the two of you, the noise of the room fading into a distant hum. His hand slides to your waist, a light but steady anchor, as if he's holding himself back just a little.

You're the first to pull away, a sudden awareness creeping in as the cheers and playful jeers of the room remind you just how many people witnessed that moment. A kiss like that, even if innocent enough, feels a little too bold in front of his entire family. No one really wants to see their son or brother making out with their significant other.

Jungkook looks at you, his lips pink and slightly swollen, cheeks flushed with heat, and his dark eyes still locked on you like you'd just turned his entire world upside down. The intensity of his gaze sends a wave of warmth through you, but you brush it off with a soft laugh, breaking the tension as you glance toward Jihyun.

"You're a little drama starter, aren't you?" you tease, scrunching your nose playfully at her.

Jihyun, as proud of herself as ever, lets out a delighted squeal and climbs off her grandfather's lap, running away from you before you can reach her. You laugh, chasing after her for a moment, her giggles filling the room as she darts behind her dad for safety.

Jungkook stays where he is, still rooted in place, dazed and a little shell-shocked. He watches as you effortlessly transition from teasing his niece to chatting easily with his family, your warmth radiating in a way that fills the room. You blend in so naturally, as though you've been a part of his world forever.

And that's when it hits him — how easily you've warmed up to everyone, how seamlessly you've become a part of his family's dynamic. He can't help the soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches you, his heart full but uneasy, knowing moments like these are only temporary.

Then his eyes flicker to the reason why you're here. Misa sits quietly on the couch, her posture relaxed as she watches the scene unfold with a faint smile on her lips. Her gaze follows you as you playfully chase after Jihyun, your laughter filling the room. The sight of you, so at ease, so vibrant, draws everyone's attention — even hers.

For a moment, Jungkook feels a twinge of something familiar, something that once drove him to the edges of heartbreak. Seeing Misa here, so poised and serene, was supposed to reignite the ache, the longing for what he once had.

But it doesn’t. And he’s beginning to realize why.

The rest of the night flowed smoothly, a seamless blend of good food, warm laughter, and light-hearted conversations that filled the Jeon household.

Dinner was amazing, every dish perfectly cooked thanks to Mrs. Jeon and Misa’s mom. You sat next to Jungkook at the table, his arm brushing against yours occasionally, a quiet reassurance of his presence. Jihyun had insisted on sitting on your other side, her boundless energy keeping you entertained throughout the meal as she chattered away about everything and nothing.  

But like all good things, the evening eventually wound down. Plates were cleared, leftovers were packed, and the gentle hum of conversation turned into goodbyes. Tomorrow, you and Jungkook would be leaving, heading back to your lives where the pretense of being a couple wouldn’t follow.  

You crouched down to hug Jihyun for as long as you could, her small arms clutching you tightly. The thought of this being the only family event you’d attend, knowing you wouldn’t see her anymore, stung in a way you hadn’t anticipated. She burrowed into your embrace, her sleepy form warm and soft against you.  

Her dad gently took her from your arms, whispering for her to give you one last goodbye. Jihyun’s tiny voice murmured a goodbye before she rested her head on her father’s shoulder, her eyes already fluttering shut.  

You watched as their car pulled out of the driveway, the taillights fading into the darkness. A frown crept onto your face as a quiet sigh escaped your lips. Jungkook’s hand moved to your back, his touch steady and comforting, rubbing slow circles to ease the weight of your thoughts.  

A familiar voice broke the moment. “It was nice meeting you again, truly,” Misa said, stepping closer.  

You turned to her, offering a polite smile. “You too.”  

Her gaze shifted to Jungkook, a subtle hesitation flickering in her expression before she spoke. “Can I talk to you for a second?”  

Jungkook’s eyes immediately darted to you, as if seeking your approval or reassurance.  

“Take him,” you said lightly, flashing a small smile in Misa’s direction before meeting his gaze. “I’ll be upstairs.”  

As you disappeared into the house, the door clicked shut behind you, leaving Jungkook and Misa alone on the porch.  

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, broken only by the rhythmic chirping of crickets. Jungkook shoved his hands into his coat pockets, his breath clouding in the chilly night air. Across from him, Misa crossed her arms, pulling her coat tighter around herself in a futile attempt to ward off the cold.  

“I knew this would be awkward, but I feel like… I owe you a conversation. After everything,” Misa starts, her voice tentative, as if she’s unsure whether she’s even allowed to say this.

Jungkook lets out a humorless laugh, his breath fogging in the cold air. “You didn’t think to do this… oh, I don’t know – nine years ago?”  

His tone is laced with sarcasm, but the hurt cuts through it unmistakably. Misa flinches at his words, and for a fleeting moment, guilt flashes across her face, making her look smaller than she usually does.  

“I loved you, Jungkook…” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we were so young. It was bound to happen.”  

“No, it wouldn’t have!” Jungkook snaps, his frustration bubbling over. “If you really loved me, you would’ve made it work!”  

Misa’s eyes glisten under the porch light, and her voice trembles as she responds, “You think I wanted to leave you? I couldn’t stop crying for years, Jungkook! But I was seventeen, and I was terrified! Walking away was the best thing for both of us!”  

“It destroyed me, Misa!” he fires back, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “You didn’t do what was best for us. You were just selfish.”  

“Selfish?” she retorts, her voice rising as she takes a step closer. “Jungkook… we were kids! We lived miles apart. How would that have worked? You think it was easy for me to make that choice? It wasn’t ideal for me either, but it was what would’ve made the most sense.”  

Jungkook shakes his head, his hands balled into fists in his pockets. He lowers his gaze to his shoes, his voice softening into a near whisper. “We could’ve made it work…”  

“I’m sorry,” Misa says, her tone laden with sincerity. “I really am.”  

For a moment, silence falls between them, the kind that feels both heavy and oddly freeing. Jungkook finally lifts his eyes to meet hers, searching her face for something he isn’t sure he’ll find.  

“Are you happy?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.  

Misa's lips curve into a small smile, one tinged with both pride and nostalgia. "I am. I recently finished my last year of med school," she says, her voice soft but steady. "It was... tough, but I did it." She pauses, as if letting herself truly feel the weight of her accomplishment before adding, "And... I'm engaged now, so yeah, I am really happy."

Jungkook smiles — a genuine, heartfelt smile that reaches his eyes, yet beneath it lingers something else, something quieter. A twinge of jealousy, not because he believes it should have been him, but because she has moved on while he remains tethered to the past. But despite it all, he is truly happy for her.

"That's amazing," he says, his voice genuine, though slightly hushed. "I'm... I'm proud of you."

“Thank you,” she says, her tone soft. “How about you?”  

His mind races through everything he’s endured since Misa left — the heartbreak, the years of questioning, and now, the realization that he’s no longer the person who once pined for her. “I don’t know…” he finally mutters, his voice distant.  

Misa tilts her head slightly, studying him. “Is she not making you happy?” she asks softly, referring to you.  

There’s no point in lying anymore.

His response is immediate, but it comes with a shake of his head. “We aren’t together.”  

Misa’s eyebrows raise in genuine surprise. “Really?” She crosses her arms, the disbelief clear in her voice. “Could’ve fooled me.”  

Jungkook exhales sharply, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "I brought her here because I knew you would be here."

The weight of his confession lingers in the cold night air, his words a reluctant admission of vulnerability. Misa tilts her head slightly, her expression softening as the meaning behind his actions clicks into place.

"Well," she says, pulling her hand from her coat pocket with a subtle flourish, revealing the diamond ring on her finger, "I hate to break it to you, but it didn't work."

Jungkook chuckles under his breath, shaking his head at himself, at the situation, at how ridiculous it all feels now. Misa laughs with him, the tension breaking like the first crack of sunlight after a long storm.  

“She did warn me. I guess I should’ve known better,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  

“Yeah, probably,” she teases lightly, her smile softening as she looks at him. “But hey… at least you tried.”  

Jungkook nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the door as a faint smile graces his lips. “Yeah… being with her didn’t seem all that bad, though,” he murmurs, more to himself than to Misa.  

Misa smiles knowingly, crossing her arms as she tilts her head. “Go for it,” she says softly. “You deserve happiness too, Jungkook.”  

He lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I just… I don’t want to ruin things between us. What if it’s too much, too fast? What if it’s not what she wants?”  

Misa raises an eyebrow, her tone light but firm. “Well, if rejection is what you’re scared of, I’ll tell you right now — that kiss was anything but friendly.”  

Jungkook chuckles nervously, his cheeks warming as he shakes his head. “You think so?”  

“I know so,” she replies confidently, her smile turning teasing. “Trust me, Jungkook. If you’re even half as obvious with her as you were with me, she knows. And honestly? She probably feels the same.”  

Her words hang in the air, filling him with equal parts hope and doubt. Jungkook glances at her, taking in the sincerity in her expression. For a moment, neither of them says anything, the quiet sounds of the night settling around them. Then, Misa steps forward and wraps her arms around him.  

He returns the embrace, his hands resting lightly on her back. “Thanks, Misa,” he says, his voice muffled against her shoulder.  

She pulls back just enough to look at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t need my thanks,” she replies softly, her tone carrying the warmth of an old friend. Then, with a playful smirk, she adds, “Just don’t mess it up.”  

He huffs a quiet laugh, the corners of his mouth lifting. “I’ll try not to.”  

And then, with one last glance at him, Misa steps away. The sound of her heels clicking against the pavement echoes softly in the quiet night as she climbs into her car. The engine hums to life, and within moments, she's driving off into the darkness, her taillights disappearing down the street.

Jungkook exhales, watching as his breath dissipates into the cold night air. The weight he had carried for so long — the lingering feelings of the past, the questions left unanswered — fades, piece by piece. Misa's departure isn't a loss; it's a quiet closing of a door that had been left ajar for far too long.  

He turns back toward the house, the warm glow from the windows beckoning him inside. Jungkook steps through the door, closing it behind him, ready to run toward whatever comes next.

You were upstairs, unwinding from the day. Just as you were about to head to the shower, Jungkook makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him.

"How was it?" you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your gaze flicking toward him as he closes the door behind him.

"Good," he says simply, but his tone is distant, as though his mind is somewhere else.

Your brows knit together. "You sure?"

He doesn't answer immediately, his jaw working as if he's chewing over his next words. Finally, he speaks, but it's not what you expected. "Why did you do it?"

You blink, confused. "Do what?"

"Kiss me," he says, his voice steady.

You chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Everyone was watching us, Kook. And Misa. It would've been obvious if we didn't kiss."

He shakes his head, taking a step closer. "You didn't do it because of Misa, did you?" he says, his tone firm.

You tilt your head, looking up at him, and a small smile curves on your lips. It's playful, teasing, and it's enough to make his heart stutter. That smile tells him everything he needs to know, but still, you say it anyway. "It was just a kiss."

He narrows his eyes slightly, his lips twitching into a smirk. "You said no kissing," he reminds you, leaning in just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension.

"Well, I changed my mind," you reply, your voice light, though there's a hint of something more in it.

"Because?" he presses, tilting his head slightly, his smirk widening as he waits for your answer.

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Because it was easier than explaining why we weren't kissing under the mistletoe."

"Hmm," he hums, unconvinced, taking a step closer. He's so close now that you have to tilt your head further to meet his gaze. "That's the story you're going with?"

"That's the truth," you say, holding his gaze, though your lips betray you with a small, mischievous smile.

His tongue runs across his bottom lip as he chuckles softly. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

"I've nothing to lie about," you say, your voice steady, though the spark in your eyes betrays your composure.

"Yeah?" he asks, his tone low, challenging, as he steps even closer.

You nod, humming softly, your confidence unwavering.

And then, without warning, he crashes his lips onto yours. The kiss is sudden, stealing the breath right out of your lungs, catching you completely off guard. His hand rests behind your neck, pulling you into him.

For a moment, you freeze, your mind racing to process what just happened, but then instinct takes over. Your hands find his chest, gripping his shirt to steady yourself as you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, insistent but not rough, like he's been waiting for this moment and isn't about to let it slip away.

When he finally pulls back, he's slightly breathless, his dark eyes locked on yours, a smirk tugging at the corners of his swollen lips. "There's no mistletoe. What's your excuse this time, huh?"

You narrow your eyes at him, your breath uneven as you glare at his teasing grin. "Just shut the fuck up already," you snap, grabbing his face with both hands and crashing your lips onto his again.

He barely has time to react, but when he does, his hands grip your waist, pulling you even closer. He smiles into the kiss, that cocky, boyish grin you've come to know so well. It only spurs you on, your fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepens, all the tension, teasing, and unspoken words melting away into something neither of you could deny anymore.

"God, you're bossy," he mumbles, his tone playful but laced with something much deeper.

"And you talk too much," you retort, your voice muffled as you kiss him again, determined to shut him up properly this time.

“Do I?” he asks, his voice a low, husky almost-moan against your lips.  

You hum in response, your breath hitching as his fingers trace a featherlight path down your spine. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, searching, teasing.  

“Yeah?” he asks again, tilting his head, that signature smirk tugging at his lips — the kind that tells you he’s up to no good.  

“Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, the impatience laced in your voice only making his smirk widen.  

His fingers move to the buckle of your belt, unlooping the strap with agonizing slowness, his knuckles grazing the bare skin of your stomach as he works the metal free. The sound of it sliding through the loops is deliberate, a slow tease, a promise.  

“I should really stop talking then, shouldn’t I?” he murmurs, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your parted lips.  

“Yeah, you should,” you say with a knowing smile, rolling your hips forward slightly, urging him on.  

His fingers move with purpose now, popping open the button of your jeans before dragging the zipper down. His hands, warm and firm, press against your hips as he kneels slightly, hooking his fingers into the waistband and peeling the denim down your legs. The fabric pools at your ankles, leaving you in your underwear, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you. 

Jungkook’s grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you effortlessly to the edge of the bed. A soft giggle escapes you, a playful attempt at resistance as you nudge him with your foot, but he catches your ankle with ease. His thumb traces over your skin, a slow, deliberate motion before he dips his head, pressing a featherlight kiss to your ankle.  

The warmth of his lips trails up your calf, each kiss slower than the last. His hands glide along your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs as he moves higher, his breath hot against your skin. A shiver runs through you, anticipation building with every unhurried touch.  

Pausing at the inside of your thigh, he lets his lips linger, the heat of his breath sending a ripple of want through your body. His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your underwear, dragging the fabric down inch by inch, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. The room feels smaller, the space between you charged, heavy with something unspoken but undeniably felt.  

He takes his time, savoring every inch of exposed skin, as if committing the moment to memory. Your body hums under his touch, muscles tensing in expectation. His hands, his lips — every movement feels intentional, like he’s unraveling you piece by piece, without a single word spoken between you.

He leans back in, his lips grazing your skin as he presses another lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh, the warmth of his breath ghosting over you and making your muscles tense in anticipation. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you firmly in place as his mouth finally descends, lips parting to taste you without hesitation. 

The first brush of his lips against your clit is teasing, and when he seals them around the sensitive bundle of nerves, the contrast of heat and the chill of his lip piercings sends a sharp jolt through you. A strangled gasp escapes, your back arching instinctively as pleasure pulses through you.

Your fingers weave into his hair, brushing the strands back to get a better view of him. His brows are furrowed in deep concentration, like a man savoring his favorite meal, every movement of his tongue precise, every suck deliberate. His grip on your thighs tightens as if he’s anchoring himself to you, determined to keep you right where he wants you.  

Your thumb traces over the scar on his cheek, a gentle contrast to the heat pooling in your core. “Much better,” you tease, your voice barely above a breath, though the playful lilt doesn’t go unnoticed.  

At that, his gaze flickers up to meet yours, dark and laced with something dangerous. His eyes lower in a silent warning — one you barely have time to process before he hums deeply against your clit, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure straight through you. Your body jolts, fingers tightening in his hair, but he doesn’t let up. If anything, he redoubles his efforts, dragging you even deeper into the fire.

You push your hips further into his face, desperation guiding your movements, and he welcomes it — welcomes you. His mouth works you over with relentless hunger, tongue flicking and curling, lips sealing around your clit with dizzying precision. His nose presses into you, dragging against your cunt with each movement, and you know he probably can't breathe.

But Jungkook doesn't give a fuck.

If anything, he buries himself deeper, groaning as he drowns in you, hands gripping your thighs like he never wants to leave. He's proud, eager, insatiable — wholly unbothered by the thought of suffocating between your legs. If this is how he dies, he'll do it happily.

You throw your head back, biting down on your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill from your mouth. The pleasure is overwhelming, your body trembling beneath his relentless tongue, but you can't risk being loud — not with Jungkook's parents somewhere in the house.

The walls are thin, far too thin, and the last thing you need is for them to hear what's happening behind this closed door. Your gasps come out shaky, uneven, each one catching in your throat as you fight to stay quiet. But Jungkook isn't making it easy. He hums against you again, the vibrations shooting through your core, and when your fingers tighten in his hair, he only doubles down, eating you like he doesn't care if you get caught.

Despite Jungkook's reckless determination to die between your thighs, his body betrays him. He suddenly pulls away, chest heaving as he gulps in deep, heavy breaths. His face glistens with your slick, flushed from the lack of air and the heat of the moment. His ears burn red, lips swollen and glossy, eyes dark with raw hunger. But he doesn't waste a second — he leans back in, stealing one more kiss from your throbbing core before standing.

His hands go straight to his belt, fumbling in his urgency, fingers nearly trembling as he rips it off. His pants and boxers are shoved down in one swift motion, and his cock springs free — thick, flushed, the pretty pink tip leaking evidence of his arousal. It stands tall, curved slightly, twitching as he wraps a firm hand around the base.

A groan of relief slips from his lips as he strokes himself, his head tipping back for a moment before his gaze locks onto you again, hungry and unashamed.

"That hard from eating some pussy?" you tease, smirking as you watch him.

Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as his grip tightens around his cock. "You should be honored. I nearly nutted in my fucking pants doing that." He steps closer, lips curling into a smirk of his own. "Take your shirt off."

You smirk, tilting your head slightly. "You first."

Jungkook huffs out a playful scoff, rolling his eyes, but he listens. With one swift motion, he reaches behind his back, gripping the fabric of his sweater before yanking it over his head and tossing it aside. His toned chest and arms flex with the movement, muscles rippling beneath his inked skin. The sight alone makes your stomach clench with anticipation.

But what really gets you is the way he immediately wraps his hand around his cock again, resuming his slow, deliberate strokes. He's getting harder, impossibly so, the veins along his shaft becoming more pronounced. His eyes stay locked on you, dark and hooded, drinking in every inch of your body like he's imagining all the ways he's about to ruin you.

"Your turn," he murmurs, voice thick with desire.

You take your time, dragging out the moment as you lift your sweater over your head, letting it drop to the floor. The cool air prickles against your skin, your bare shoulders exposed, but your bra still remains, teasing him just enough.

Jungkook's jaw flexes. His thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, spreading the precum leaking from his slit, but his patience is thinning.

"All of it," he commands, voice firm. There's no room for argument.

You reach behind your back, fingers deftly working the clasp of your bra. The moment it unhooks, the straps slip from your shoulders, the fabric going slack against your skin. With a slow, deliberate motion, you pull it off completely and let it drop to the floor, joining the rest of your discarded clothes.

Jungkook's breath stutters. His strokes slow for a moment as his eyes drink you in, dark and full of heat, pupils blown wide with unfiltered desire. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, jaw tightening as he exhales sharply through his nose.

Feeling like a third wheel between Jungkook and his cock, you slip off the bed and onto your knees before him. His brows furrow slightly when you wrap your fingers around his wrist, guiding his hand away from his aching length. His cock twitches in the cool air, glistening with precum, and you don’t hesitate — leaning in, you drag your tongue slowly from the thick base of his shaft up to his flushed, leaking tip.  

A sharp breath escapes him, his chest rising and falling in anticipation. He lets you take control for a moment, but then, instead of letting you simply pull his wrist away, his fingers slide down to lace with yours, gripping your hand in a silent, desperate plea. Your lips part, taking him in, your tongue swirling over the sensitive head before pressing flat against the underside. 

“Fuck… gonna- make me fucking cum already, baby,” he groans, voice thick with pleasure, his grip tightening around your hand.  

But just as he teeters on the edge, you pull off with a wet pop, a teasing glint in your eyes as you look up at him. His cock twitches in protest, a string of spit connecting your lips to his flushed tip.  

“Want you to fuck me,” you murmur, voice laced with need.  

Jungkook exhales a shaky breath, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?”  

You nod, biting your lip, heat simmering between you.  

His jaw flexes as his eyes darken. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking you.” His grip on your hand tightens briefly before he lets go. “Get on the bed, baby.”  

Your heart pounds as you stand, climbing onto the mattress, anticipation thrumming through your veins. He doesn’t waste a second — his lips crash against yours, the force of his kiss sending you toppling onto the bed. His body presses flush against yours, a delicious heat radiating between you as he deepens the kiss.

Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, breathless, his forehead nearly touching yours as he looks down between your bodies. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking himself slowly, teasingly, as if grounding himself in the moment. But then, he stills.  

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom, baby,” he murmurs, voice tight with frustration.  

You reach up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over the flushed heat of his skin. “It’s fine,”  

His dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, searching. “You still sure?”  

You groan, your patience hanging by a thread. “Jungkook, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m never talking to you again.”  

He chuckles, before finally giving in. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open as he guides himself forward, the thick, swollen head of his cock pressing against your sopping entrance. He teases you first, dragging the tip through your slick folds, spreading your arousal before finally pushing in with a slow, deliberate thrust.  

A sharp gasp rips from your throat as he stretches you open, inch by inch, your walls clenching around him as they struggle to accommodate his sheer size. The delicious burn of fullness has your back arching, your thighs trembling around his waist as he buries himself deeper. Your nails bite into the inked skin of his shoulder, desperate for something to ground you.  

“Gosh, you’re so big,” you moan, voice breaking as pleasure swirls in your stomach.  

Jungkook groans, his head dropping for a moment before he lifts it, watching the way your body takes him in. His jaw clenches, restraint evident in the way his fingers tighten on your thighs.  

“You can take it,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I know you can.”  

He presses in further, inch by inch, until he bottoms out, the head of his cock nudging deep inside you. A deep, guttural moan escapes him as he stills, giving you a moment to adjust, his thumbs stroking over your skin in a silent praise.

"Okay, you can move," you whisper, your breath shaky with anticipation, giving him the green light.  

Without hesitation, Jungkook pulls back, the thick head of his cock dragging slowly out of you, the wetness between your bodies creating a squelchy sound that fills the room. He pauses for a breath, then pushes back in, the pressure of his thick shaft sliding into you with a deep, satisfying thrust.  

Your body trembles with each movement, the slickness between you amplifying the sound of him sinking into you, the heat building in your core as his rhythm deepens. His hands grip your thighs tighter, the tension in his muscles visible as he focuses on every inch of you, filling you completely with each stroke.  

He leans down, capturing your lips in a desperate, hungry kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours as his fingers dig into your hips. His lips trail lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, along the sensitive column of your throat, until he reaches your collarbone. He latches on, sucking at the delicate skin, leaving a mark that he knows will be there in the morning.

His thrusts grow quicker, rougher, his grip on your waist tightening as he pounds into you. The bedframe slams against the wall with each movement, the rhythmic banging growing louder, impossible to ignore.

"Fuck," Jungkook grits out, a mix of pleasure and panic flickering across his face. You feel too good — too warm, too tight, too perfect — but reality crashes in. His parents are near, and the thought of them hearing what's happening in the bed he used to sleep in as a kid sends a chill down his spine. Without hesitation, he pulls out, breathing heavily as he grabs your hand. His dark eyes flicker with urgency as he tugs you up. "Get up,"

Confused, you obey nonetheless, your legs still shaky as Jungkook leads you across the room. He drops down onto the chair by his desk, spreading his legs slightly, his dark, impatient gaze locking onto yours. He holds his hands out, palms open, a silent command.

"Come here," he murmurs, guiding you with a tilt of his head.

You hesitate, glancing between him and the chair. "You serious?"

Jungkook huffs, his jaw ticking. "You want my parents to know we're fucking in here?" His fingers flex, beckoning you closer. "Hurry up, babe. A few more bounces, and I got you."

You sigh, but the heat in his eyes makes it impossible to say no. Stepping between his legs, you plant your hands on his broad shoulders for support before straddling him.

His hands immediately find your lower back, one strong arm keeping you steady while the other wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself against your entrance.

A shudder runs through you as you sink down onto him, inch by inch, until you're seated fully in his lap, his cock buried deep inside you. His grip tightens around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he takes control, lifting you slightly before helping you bounce on him.

The familiar coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach, overriding everything else — the growing cramp in your leg, the sharp pressure of your knees pressing into the hard wooden chair. None of it matters. All you can focus on is chasing your high, the way his cock fills you so perfectly, the delicious friction driving you closer and closer to the edge.

But Jungkook's attention is elsewhere. His eyes are locked on your tits, mesmerized by the way they bounce with every movement. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he leans in, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. A sharp gasp escapes you as he sucks greedily, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. His hands slide up your back, pressing you closer, desperate to feel as much of you as possible.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging at the dark strands, while your other hand grips his shoulder for support. His groan vibrates against your skin, sending a shiver straight through you. The heat between you is unbearable, all — consuming, and you know neither of you will last much longer.

Jungkook's hands roam lower, squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp slap that makes you jolt. He grips both cheeks, spreading them apart as he helps you move, guiding you up and down on his cock with a firm, steady hold.

His own breaths are ragged, his restraint hanging by a thread as he watches you unravel above him.

"Fuck- M'gonna cum!" you whine, your voice breaking, the desperation in your tone making his cock twitch inside you. The pleasure is too much, too overwhelming, and you can't contain your volume.

Jungkook reacts instantly, his mouth leaving your tit as his hand flies up to cover your mouth, muffling your cries before they can slip past the walls. You moan helplessly against his palm as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around his cock in tight, pulsing waves. Jungkook groans, his brows furrowing as he feels you squeeze around him, the sensation almost pushing him over the edge.

"Keep going for me, yeah?" he rasps, his voice thick with need as his fingers dig into the fat of your ass. He thrusts up to meet your movements, the rhythm growing more desperate, more frantic.

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as you hum against his palm, your muffled moans vibrating against his skin. The way he fills you, stretches you, has your entire body trembling.

"Yeah, make me cum, baby," he groans, his head falling back against the chair, jaw clenched tight as he teeters on the edge.

His hand slides from your mouth to your hip, his grip tightening, fingers digging into your skin as he takes control. He guides you faster, his thrusts growing more desperate, more erratic, chasing that final, dizzying high.

Your walls flutter around him, the sensation pushing him closer, pulling him under. His breathing turns ragged, his muscles tensing beneath you as pleasure coils tight in his core.

"Fuck- just like that," he grits out, his hips snapping up to meet yours in a final, desperate push.

A few more bounces, and he breaks, a deep but quiet groan spilling from his lips as he comes, his release shooting hot and deep inside you. His hands squeeze your waist, holding you down against him as he rides out his high, every pulse of pleasure leaving him breathless.

You push his damp hair back from his sweaty forehead, your fingers combing through the strands with gentle care. His chest rises and falls beneath you, still heaving from the intensity of it all.

Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to his lips, slow and lingering, a big difference to the desperation from moments ago. Jungkook hums against your mouth, his hands sliding up your back, holding you close as he melts into the kiss.

When you pull away, his eyes flutter open, laced with exhaustion and something softer — something tender. A lazy smile tugs at his lips as he exhales a satisfied sigh.

"All this over some mistletoe," he teases, his voice still slightly breathless.

"The drama," you drawl, rolling your eyes playfully as you tease him back.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound deep and warm, vibrating against your skin. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His lips brush against your damp skin, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss there.

His cock softens inside you, but neither of you move just yet. The heat of the moment has faded, replaced by something quieter, something softer. 

“Oh!” Jungkook suddenly exclaims, his eyes lighting up as if he’s just remembered something. “I got you something.”  

You shift off of him, settling on the edge of the bed as he moves to one of the drawers. His movements are purposeful but unhurried, fingers sifting through its contents before he retrieves a long, slender gift box. He turns, extending it toward you with an expectant look.  

“You didn’t have to,” you murmur, meeting his gaze as you hesitantly take the box from his hands.  

“Just open it,” he insists, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  

With a soft breath, you lift the lid, and your heart stutters. There, nestled inside, is your necklace — whole again. The delicate chain, once broken, gleams under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, looking as flawless as the day it was first given to you.  

Your breath catches, fingers hovering over the pendant before carefully picking it up. “Kook…” you whisper, eyes lifting to his.

“I know how much it meant to you, so I got it fixed this morning,” Jungkook says softly, his voice laced with warmth. “Merry Christmas, baby.”  

Your chest tightens, emotion welling up as you blink back the tears threatening to spill. His thoughtfulness, the effort he put into something so personal to you — it means more than words can express.  

A watery smile spreads across your lips as you rise to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kiss him, a soft press of your lips against his. Then again. And once more, lingering just a little longer this time.  

You were glad you came. Even if the initial plan to make Misa jealous had failed, it didn’t matter anymore. Because, in this moment, with Jungkook, this might just be the best Christmas of your life.

© voyter 2025, all rights reserved.

[hoperecs]

Glitter, glue, I love you

Summary: You and Namjoon have been married for quite some time, your relationship having only grown since you first met as bright-eyed students back in the day. Now, you're a passionate primary school teacher, and Namjoon is an inspiring college professor, both deeply invested in shaping young minds. This holiday season, after a long day at work, you find yourselves staying late to decorate your classroom. Namjoon, ever the considerate soul, swings by to pick you up, but of course, you take advantage of the opportunity and put him to work. As you hang twinkling lights and arrange paper snowflakes, the conversation takes a meaningful turn. In the midst of the holiday madness, you talk about your future, and the idea of starting a family emerges… Best Christmas gift ever. Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: Fluff and smut. Married couple Au. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: this is honestly just a fluffy slice of life drabble. Namjoon is clumsy, and whipped. Spandex? drinking. Smut warnings: soft dom Namjoon, big cock Namjoon, oral (m and f receiving) praise, multiple positions, a little overstimulation, just a smidge of breeding kink. Word count: 14k Author’s note: Okay. I know I have an ongoing story, but I do this thing, where I get overwhelmed with life and just blurt out a whole drabble. Usually in those moments the story I’m already working on drives me insane, so I… do this. sorry?😊 thank you sweet sweet @callmenoona25 for accepting my... quirk when i just drop a whole new fic on your lap out of nowhere lol. Thank you @rpwprpwprpwprw For the perfectly aesthetic joonie photos!

(fun fact, i used to know a baby chicken little. He'd always break his glasses down the middle) Merry Christmas everyone!❄️🎄

Your new crafting scissors glided against the construction paper with ease. A flurry of cut-off bits, small pieces of colourful paper, glitter, pompoms, and anything else that merely resembled a Christmas theme littered your classroom floor.

A delightful chaos surrounded you—scraps of red, green, and gold paper mingled with stray stickers, twisted up pipe cleaners, and the occasional orphaned googly eye. It was a mess, the kind only a classroom holiday crafting session could conjure, and yet here you were, adding more to it.

The new scissors, sharp and precise, were a joy to wield, effortlessly turning construction paper into stars, trees, and snowflakes. You got so absorbed in your work that the mountain of scrap paper piling up next to your desk barely registered anymore.

The room was silent now. The kiddos had left hours ago, followed by a parent-teacher conference and a staff meeting to finalize plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday party. By the time you returned to your classroom, the exhaustion was bone-deep, and the sight of the disaster awaiting you made you groan.

But as you approached your desk and spotted a few abandoned crafts—a lopsided tree, a glue-smeared snowman—a spark of creativity flickered to life. The supplies were already out, and with autumn decorations still clinging to the walls, you figured you might as well get a head start on transforming the room into a winter wonderland before the weekend.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cutting and crafting, glueing and arranging, the silence of the empty classroom wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was practically the only moment during the long, exhausting day when you could to sit down and just let your thoughts wonder.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice the sun setting—or the faint creak of your classroom door opening.

“Mrs. Kim, it seems my wife forgot to come home today after class.”

You froze mid-snip, the scissors poised in your hand, a half-finished snowflake dangling from your grip. The familiar voice carried a teasing warmth that made your cheeks flush before you spun around in your chair, to catch a glimpse.

Standing in the doorway was you husband, Namjoon, leaning casually against the doorframe with that playful grin you loved (or occasionally cursed for how easily it could fluster you).

His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and his coat draped over one arm, a telltale sign that he’d come straight from his own long day at work. Yet his smile was bright, his tired eyes twinkling with delight upon seeing you, like he was about to tell you the best pun he ever heard.

“You know, most people would’ve taken that parent-teacher meeting as their cue to call it a day,” he teased, crossing his arms. His gaze swept over the room, taking in the colourful chaos, before settling on you.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound casual as you placed your scissors on the desk and brushed the glitter from your hands, leaning back against the chair. “After that I also had a staff meeting.”

His grin widened. “Did you cut out the staff out of paper?”

You huffed at his playful remark, picking up a pompom from the desk and tossing it in his direction. The fluffy projectile sailed weakly through the air before plopping to the floor with an overly dramatic bounce, getting lost in the multicoloured mess on the ground. “Very funny, Mr. Kim,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your scissors to finish the snowflake.

Namjoon laughed, stepping into the room, his footsteps soft against the glitter-dusted floor. “I prefer clever over funny.”

You mused, pretending to consider his suggestion. “I’ll agree when you grab some paper and make something clever yourself.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I’m just here to admire the handiwork—And maybe rescue my wife before she buries herself in glitter.”

“Too late for that.” You laughed, showing him the underside of your hands, covered in an array of colourful plastic bits and flecks of glitter.

He laughed too, his warmth filling the classroom as he settled into a nearby chair. He watched you with quiet amusement as you snipped away the final pieces of the snowflake.

Once done, you brushed the remains off the desk with a casual sweep of your hand, letting the scraps fall to the already messy floor. Reaching for a spool of string, you began tying a loop to hang the snowflakes.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, “I was just thinking I could use a tall, handsome man to help me hang these from the ceiling.”

His dimples deepened slightly as his lips curled into a smirk. “Should I fetch the principal for you?”

“God, no!” you exclaimed, shooting him a mock-horrified look.

Namjoon’s laughter echoed again, and he stood, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of your chair. “Fine. Lucky for you, I happen to know a tall, handsome man who’s free to lend a hand. On one condition.”

“And that is?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed him the snowflake.

“I get to take you out for dinner afterwards.”

“You hang up my décor and I don’t have to cook dinner?” you said with a grin, watching as he reached up to hang the snowflake with ease. “You’ve got yourself a deal, my love.”

Namjoon smirked as he hooked the snowflake onto the ceiling, his long fingers adjusting it so it hung perfectly. “Don’t get too excited. You’re paying, and I’m starving,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you handed him another snowflake. “Starving? You make it sound like you haven’t eaten all day.”

“I haven’t eaten enough,” he corrected, taking the snowflake and hanging it with the same care as the first. “Besides, all this helping is hard work. I’m burning calories just by existing in this glitter cloud.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, before standing up and stretching as much as possible, waiting for that satisfying pop that made your back come to life after sitting at your desk for hours.

While Namjoon made remarkable progress on the snowflakes, you retrieved your broom and vacuum cleaner, trying to salvage the floor and not declare war with the cleaning staff in the process.

Once it finally started looking like a classroom again—crayons arranged, glue sticks all capped and drawings proudly hung up on the walls —you fetched your seasonal décor box from the supply closet, gathering the autumn leaves and acorns as you went.

The sound of Namjoon’s soft humming filled the room as he continued to hang the rest of the snowflakes. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, so effortlessly blending into your little world. His tall frame moving with ease as he reached up to secure another delicate snowflake.

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” you teased, carefully arranging the autumn décor for storage.

“Just trying to make your life easier,” Namjoon replied, his voice warm. He stepped back to admire his work, hands on his hips like he’d just solved a complex philosophy problem.

You smiled, unrolling the fairy lights on your desk, silently thanking your teacher assistant for her knack for packing them neatly and knot-free.

“Think you can help me with this too?”

When you looked up, you noticed Namjoon standing next to the wall where your classroom photo was hung up. It was a large picture of you surrounded by your students, all laughing and holding colourful balloons.

The parents had given it to you as a gift on the first day of this school year, though it had been taken during the end-of-year celebration when your little first graders graduated.

Around the group photo, you’d carefully arranged individual pictures of each child, their names neatly written underneath and decorated with felt stickers.

Namjoon stood quietly, his eyes scanning the display with a soft smile tugging at his lips. His expression was a mix of pride and warmth, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“What’s baby Chicken Little up to?” he asked, glancing over at you, the playful nickname making you giggle.

Last year your heart had been stolen by a little boy named Minjun, who made it his yearlong mission to bring you a leaf or a flower every single day of school. His little backpack was almost as big as he was, and he’d always greet you with the brightest, most infectious smile when he walked through the door, before dropping the little plant on your desk and giving you an adorable bow.

You’d told Namjoon all about him at the end of each day, and when you proudly showed him the photo you’d snapped of Minjun on your phone, Namjoon cooed and playfully nicknamed him baby Chicken Little. All because of his “iconic green glasses,” which happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones the animated character wore.

“He’s doing really well. A little genius when it comes to multiplications, although his calligraphy could use some work.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples making an appearance as he glanced back at Minjun’s photo. “Multiplications, huh? Guess he’s already ahead of the curve.”

You smiled fondly, scavenging through your storage boxes for the chalk markers. “He’s a sharp one. Always so curious. His mom says he’s been teaching his little sister how to count using her barbie dolls.

Namjoon’s expression softened further. “Sounds like a future teacher in the making.”

You giggle, “Only if he can pass your philosophy 101 class in college.”

“Oh, come on! You know I’m not as mean as you make me out to be.”

You raised an eyebrow, pausing your search for the chalk markers to give him a teasing look. “Not as mean? Should I remind you about that one student—what was his name? Jungkook? —who said your essay prompts were harder than his organic chemistry final?”

Namjoon groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “That was one time! And he clearly didn’t read the syllabus.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, stifling a laugh as you finally found the markers, holding them up triumphantly. “I’m just saying, if Minjun wants to pass your class, he better start practicing his critical thinking skills now.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, feigning offense. “For the record, my students love me. I’m approachable, insightful, and, dare I say... inspiring.”

You watched as Namjoon gave you that challenging look, daring you to tease him further. But deep down, you knew 100% that he was right.

After all, he’d proudly told you about Jungkook— the ‘Muscle Bunny’—who, by the end of the year, would refuse to leave the classroom after lessons, just for a chance to talk with Namjoon about everything from philosophy to general life issues. (And on more than one occasion, you had to swing by the college to collect your husband, because they were both so emersed in the conversation.)

Sure, Jungkook may have started out as a bit of a tough nut, but by the end of the semester, he was one of Namjoon’s biggest fans.

You chuckled softly at the thought. Namjoon had a way of drawing people in, even the most unlikely candidates. It’s what made him such an outstanding teacher. And you couldn’t be happier that you managed to snatch him up before he even graduated with his teacher’s degree.

“I know you are.” You said honestly, watching his posture soften, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the compliment.

Namjoon’s dimples deepened, and he turned back to look at the photos on the wall. A comforting silence falling over the classroom again as you started drawing with the chalk markers on the windows.

It was just as you were finishing the last details of the snowman that Namjoon spoke again, his voice steady but carrying a weight that immediately caught your attention.

“Do you think we’d make good parents?”

The question hung in the air, quiet and unexpected, causing you to freeze mid-stroke. Your hand suspended, the tip of the marker just inches away from the snowman’s little top hat. You hadn’t expected that. Namjoon had always been thoughtful, but this… this was something entirely different.

You turned slowly, finding him looking at you, his expression unreadable but soft. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure why he asked the question, but was waiting for your answer nonetheless.

“Good parents?” you repeated, your voice quieter than usual, the weight of the question settling into your chest. It wasn’t just a casual inquiry—it felt loaded and significant. It felt like he was asking something deeper, something that might change your life in the very near future.

Namjoon seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words, but instead, he stayed silent, letting the question linger.

You cleared your throat, your thoughts racing. Was he asking about parenting techniques? Was this a hypothetical question, or was there something more to it? You couldn’t quite tell. But the thought of it—of you and Namjoon as parents—flashed across your mind, and for a split second, you felt a warmth spread in your chest.

You’d talked about your future many times—even while you were still just dating—and you both agreed you wanted kids. But there was never a set timeline or a specific goal you wanted to reach before starting a family.

You took a slow breath, trying to gather your thoughts as the weight of the question settled in your mind. The idea of having a baby—it was something you’d talked about casually, even dreamt about in passing. But now, with his eyes on you, the conversation suddenly felt real, more tangible than it ever had before.

You finally put the chalk marker down on the desk, turning fully to face him. “You’ve asked me before about the future,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “But this... this feels different. Are you asking because you’re actually thinking about it?”

Namjoon looked at you, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity that made your cheeks heat up. “I mean-” he said after a beat, his voice almost uncertain. “I guess I’ve been thinking about it more lately, especially with everything we’ve built together. I don’t think we can get any more financially stable. And we’ve got a good thing, right? We work well as a team. I just... I wonder what it would be like to take that next step, with you.”

Your heart nearly exploded, a big grin spreading across your face that would certainly make your cheeks hurt if you kept it up. He had a way of making everything feel possible, of making you believe in the future even when you didn’t have all the answers. The thought of raising kids with him, of teaching them the way you both wanted to, filled you with an overwhelming sense of warmth and certainty.

“I think we’d be great,” you said, your voice full of honest affection. “We’d make an amazing team. I know we’ve got the love, the patience, and the understanding to do it.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, as if taking in your words, before a soft smile crept onto his face.

You knew you weren’t about to get a confirmation from him, not now at least. Namjoon needed to steep in his thoughts a bit more before he would finally and ultimately tell you he wants a baby.

Still, his smile lingered, and he slowly nodded, as if to affirm your words without needing to say anything else just yet.

The silence between you both felt comfortable, like a promise for the future—an unspoken understanding that this was a conversation that didn’t need to be rushed.

After a moment, he reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft but sure.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace settle in your chest. Even despite hearing those same exact words come out his mouth millions of times, they still wrapped around you like a protective embrace, making everything else, every worry, every unfinished plan and every glitter-littered snowflake fade into the background.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the moment. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with the same devotion that was in his eyes.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, before glancing around the classroom, “What did you ask me to do?”

“Fairy lights, Joon.”

Namjoon chuckled softly at your reminder, his fingers still lingering on your cheek for a moment before he stepped back. “Right, right,” he said, shaking his head. “I got distracted from the important things.”

You watched him walk toward the desk to finish hanging the fairy lights, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you returned to your drawing. The weight of the earlier conversation still lingered in the air, but it left you with a spark of excitement.

As he carefully draped the lights along the chalkboard, you noticed how effortlessly he moved, how much care he put into making sure everything was perfect. You’d always admired that about him—his attention to detail, his quiet confidence in everything he did. And now, with every little task, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of certainty.

“Almost done,” Namjoon called out, glancing over his shoulder. You gave him a thumbs-up, your smile widening as he finished the last strand of lights.

The classroom now looked like a cozy little haven, with the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle warmth over the space. Everything felt perfect.

 You capped your marker once the windows were done, and walked over to your desk to organize a little bit, putting away the potentially dangerous supplies, before closing the drawers and the boxes.

Namjoon stood beside you, his hands in his pockets as he admired the room. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it’s still missing one thing.”

You frowned, stopping mid-motion, to glance around. “What’s that?”

He reached down, gently tugging you to your feet and closing the last box for you. “Us. Out of here, enjoying a well-deserved dinner.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, grabbing his coat and your bag before stepping away from the desk. Namjoon fetched your coat from the hanger, draping it over your shoulders with a soft smile. He then took your hand, a firm but gentle hold, and started guiding you toward the door, almost certain that if he didn’t, you’d find something else to do.

As you walked together, you paused by to the classroom pet cage, drawn by the soft rustling inside. The little chinchilla scamped out of his enclosure and over to the bars, his nose twitching as he looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

“Did I tell you we need to take Professor Fluff this Christmas break?” You asked, grabbing a treat from the nearby jar and tossing it into the cage, watching as the chinchilla eagerly snatched it up and started nibbling on it.

Namjoon, holding the door open for you, tilted his head as you walked back to him.

“Wasn’t it Teacher Assistant Park’s turn?”

“She’s pregnant, Namjoonie. She can’t.”

You slipped your hand into his, smiling as his fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the dimly lit school halls.

“She should be able to handle a chinchilla if she expects to take care of a baby.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “No, babe, it’s about allergies.”

Namjoon sighed dramatically but couldn’t fully hide his grin. “That settle it. Definitely getting you pregnant. Even if only for the perks —wife comes home on time, and I get to have her all to myself for the holidays.”

You blushed furiously at his comment, a big, droopy smile tugging on your lips.

“Oh, come on. How much time do you think Professor Fluff is going to keep me occupied?” you tease, bumping your shoulder against him as you walk.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, playful glint in his eyes. “With what I have planned for you, more than I like.” he replied, pulling the door shut behind him as the two of you stepped out into the crisp evening air.

You laugh, your cheeks still warm from the blush he had put there. Namjoon's teasing always had a way of making your heart flutter, but this time, there was something deeper in his words—something that felt like it carried a promise.

“I swear, you really know how to keep me on my toes,” You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his touch on your hand as he guided you out into the crisp evening air.

He grinned, pulling you closer to him as you made your way to the car. “That's the idea. Keep you guessing, keep you interested.” He gave you a wink, the playful glint never leaving his eyes, even as he opened the driver’s door for you.

“I don’t think you need to work too hard at it. You're already the most interesting person I know.” You said when he settled into the passengers seat.

Namjoon's smile softened, and for a moment, you could see the sincerity behind his teasing demeanour.

“I like that you think that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, as he slowly leaned over the console to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

You melted into him, the soft press of his lips against yours lingering for just a moment longer than usual, making your heart race. It was the type of kiss that had you coming back for more, the kind that melted all your worries away, and made you feel like you two were the only ones in the world.

As he pulled away, he gave you a playful smile, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Now please drive. I’m starving.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shift in tone, your heart still fluttering from the lingering kiss.

“Always about food with you,” you sigh, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. “I guess I'll just have to accept that food is your first love.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression turning mischievous. “Well, if food's my first love, you, my dear, are my favourite dessert.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a mix of amusement and affection swirling inside you, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach.

You glanced over at him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that so?” You said, your voice teasing as you focused on the road.

Namjoon's grin widened; his eyes gleaming. “Absolutely. You’re sweet, irresistible, and I could spend hours between your legs.”

A flush crept up your cheeks as your grip on the steering wheel tightened, the tension between you two shifting. His words hung in the air, teasing but also carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken.

“Keep talking like that and I'm taking you home,” you threatened.

Namjoon’s expression shifted in an instant from playful to mock-serious. “No, no,” he whined, leaning back into the seat with a dramatic sigh. “I promise I'll be good.”

You giggle. “What do you want to eat then?”

He lit up again, his mock seriousness giving way to his usual enthusiasm. “That little BBQ place that opened up down the street from us.”

“The one you haven’t stopped talking about since they put up the ‘coming soon’ sign?”

“That’s the one,” he admitted unabashedly, his grin growing wider “It’s fate. They opened just in time for us to have the perfect date.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned the car toward home. “I guess it is. But I’m parking at home and we can walk—that way, I can drink too.”

“Oh, is my baby planning to get wasted tonight?” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“No,” you chuckled, glancing at him with a smirk. “But I know for a fact you’re going to order that fancy whiskey you always get, and I don’t want to be stuck as the designated driver.”

Namjoon laughed, his deep dimpled grin lighting up his face. “Fair point. That whiskey is worth the walk. And hey, I’ll carry you home if you have one too many.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. It hasn’t been such a bad week” you smile at him, “But I won’t say no to being spoiled by you a little.”

“Always,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’ll spoil you every chance I get.”

You couldn't help but grin at his words, the warmth in his voice making your blush reappear. There was something so comforting in the way he always knew how to make you feel special, how he was so genuine in every little thing he did for you.

“So, you’re paying tonight?”

“Nope,” he smiled, popping the p, and earning a heartfelt laughter from you.

As the two of you approached your home, you turned the car into the driveway, the familiar sight of your house welcoming you. Namjoon was already getting out of the car, his excitement for the evening palpable.

“Let me grab my bag, and we’ll head out,” you said, stepping out of the car and locking it. Namjoon waited by the gate, glancing around as the evening air started to cool, a few stray little snowflakes lazily drifting through the air. The stars above twinkled in the dark sky, and the soft hum of the city around you made it feel like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Let’s go,” you replied with a grin, your arm slipping through his. You walked down the quiet street together, the comfortable rhythm of your steps matching each other effortlessly.

The neighbourhood was peaceful, with only a few cars passing by, and the crisp air reddening the tip of your nose. As you reached the corner of the street, the warm glow of the BBQ restaurant came into view. The scent of grilled meat and spices filled the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation, and reminding you your last meal was breakfast, many hours ago.

“There it is,” Namjoon said, his voice full of excitement. “I’ve been dreaming of this all week.”

You laughed, the sound easy and full of affection. “It’s definitely been a long time coming, huh?”

“Worth the wait,” he replied, grinning.

As you entered the restaurant, the cozy atmosphere wrapped around you, and the delicious smells only heightened your anticipation. Namjoon gave you a playful glance, watching as you all but jump with excitement, before leading you to a little booth. You, of course, slid in next to him, and cuddled up against his side as you waited for the waiter. Namjoon grinned as you cuddled up against his side, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. The booth was small, but cozy, and the warm lighting of the restaurant made it feel like a private little nook just for the two of you.

As you settled in, your gaze drifted to the menu, although, truthfully, you were more focused on the tall and handsome man next to you. His warm presence besides you, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to make you feel safe and cared for. The man who wanted a family with you, who would undoubtedly take perfect, tender care of your little human being, and who would hang out at the museum talk hours on end about his favourite pieces with the kiddo, like they could grasp every single concept. Before, undoubtedly trying to teach your baby the deepest philosophy concepts ever, and five different musical instruments all at once.

The waiter soon approached, and Namjoon, with his usual confidence, ordered for the both of you without missing a beat. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted—he already knew. A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him. He always did that, always taking care of things in his own calm, capable way. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

Once the drinks arrived—a neat whiskey bottle that you couldn’t remember the name of—you clinked your glasses together in a soft toast.

“To perfect dates,” Namjoon said with a glint in his eye, his voice warm and filled with affection as he held his glass up to yours.

“To many more to come,” you replied, your voice light but sincere, the sound of it carrying a promise in the air between you.

The glass met with a soft clink, and the warmth of the whiskey settled in your chest as you took your first sip, savouring the smooth, smoky flavour. Namjoon mirrored your actions, the ice in his glass gently clinking as he took a long sip, never breaking his gaze from you.

You smiled at him, the familiar tenderness filling your heart, a slow, easy feeling of contentment settling over you. There was something special about moments like this—about sharing time in each other’s presence, just the two of you, with no outside distractions.

It reminded you of your first few dates, back when you two were both overworked students with a seriously high number of sleepless nights, and a very poor diet consisting mostly of cola and noodles. Back when he was so nervous that he basically talked to himself the whole date, stumbling over his words in a rush to make the ‘conversation flow’, but still managing to make you laugh with his awkward charm. You didn’t tease him about it back then, how could you? When he’d look at you like you could single-handedly change the world with a flutter of your eyelashes.

And when you agreed to a second date, he gave you the biggest, cheesiest smile you ever saw, before accidentally bumping into you as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, somehow managing to smack you in the face with his forehead.

You froze for a second, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence, before he apologized in a flurry and left you alone and confused in front of your dorm room.

Imagine his surprise when you called him for details about the promised second date.

Even so, there was never a moment when Namjoon ever made you feel unsafe, or like he was going out with you just to make up for his awkwardness. No, despite his nervousness, he always made sure you felt valued, cherished, and like you were the most important person in the room. That was one of the things you’d grown to love about him. He was sincere in every gesture, every word, even when he felt uncertain about himself.

That second date he got to kiss you right.

You had both come a long way since then. The clumsy first kiss was just a part of the story now, a little cherished memory that always brought a warm smile to your lips whenever you thought about it. You’d grown together since that day, and with each date, each shared moment, your bond had only deepened.

Now, here you were, sitting next from him, your husband, in this cozy little restaurant, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey and the various dishes that the waiter brought out for you.

Everything felt right. There was no doubt in your mind that this, right here, was exactly where you were meant to be.

Namjoon caught your eye, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re smiling to yourself.”

“I’m happy,” you replied simply.

Namjoon softened, his eyes filled with warmth as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “Me too,” he said, his words wrapping around your heart and making it jump in your chest. You quickly leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, giggling a bit when he let out a soft, surprised puff, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected gesture. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice light with amusement but still smooth .

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the devotion in your gaze unwavering. “For making me happy. And for hanging the snowflakes in my classroom.” You paused for a quick second, before smirking. “And for paying for dinner?”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “Nope.”

He laughed at your fake little pout, before holding out his chopsticks to you. “Here, try this.”

You opened your mouth wide, waiting for him to feed you the piece of beef he cooked, only for it to fall from his chopsticks and right on your button-down shirt.

You both froze for a moment, staring at the little piece of beef resting on your chest. Namjoon blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief before he broke into a fit of laughter, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

“Smooth,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you reached for the beef and popped it into your mouth, before grabbing a napkin to wipe away the mess on your shirt.

“I'm so sorry,” Namjoon said, still laughing, but his voice filled with genuine concern. “I swear I aimed for your mouth.”

You dabbed the spot on your shirt, trying to suppress your own laughter. “That’s what he said.”

At that little comment he gave you a deep belly laugh, a hand covering his mouth, before grabbing another napkin for you.

“I’ll take it to the cleaners tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He still giggled like a little kid watching you try to rub the stain away.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart warm at the small, sweet gesture. “I think it’s fine,” you said, your voice softening as you met his eyes. “It's just a shirt. But it’s the thought that counts.”

Namjoon tilted his head, his dimpled grin returning. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, leaning in slightly, his voice lower and softer. “I swear.”

The temptation to flirt back tugged at you, but the urge to tease him was simply too strong to resist.

“You can start by not burning the rest of the meat on the grill.”

“Shit!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction as he whipped around to check the grill. The sizzling sound of beef filled the air, and he immediately sprang into action, grabbing the tongs and flipping the steaks with exaggerated haste.

“Shit, shit!” he muttered under his breath, his hands moving quickly but still a little too late to save the edges of the tender cuts from burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching the frantic yet adorable way he tried to salvage the meal. "Maybe next time, don’t get so distracted by my chest," you teased, leaning back in your chair with a sly grin

“I swear I’m a better cook when I’m not trying to impress you.” he confessed with an embarrassed smile that made your heart pick up again.

“Why are you still trying to impress me? You’re already getting in my pants tonight.” You flutter your eyelashes up at him, leaning into his side.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath, focusing back on the grill with renewed determination.

You let out a laugh, unable to resist bugging him further. “Come on, Namjoonie, you don’t have to work this hard for me. I’m already sold. Burned beef and all.”

He shot you a quick look over his shoulder, his dimple making a reappearance as he smirked. “Oh, I know you’re sold. But I still have to keep my reputation intact. Can’t have you thinking you married a man who can’t even grill properly.”

You shrugged playfully. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly drawn to you for your cooking skills to begin with.”

Namjoon smirked, his eyes briefly flicking to yours with a teasing glint before he said, “Good. Then I guess my other skills will have to do now too.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Mr. Kim. You keep that up, and I’m taking you home.”

Namjoon’s laugh was loud and deep, echoing around the room as he handed you the piece of meat. “Eat first,” he said with mock seriousness, his tone firm but the amusement dancing in his eyes betrayed him. “And you’re getting dessert too.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, smirking “You’re just going to eat half of whatever I pick, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he admitted shamelessly, his grin widening in triumph, dropping some veggies on your plate too.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laugh as you reached for the menu. “Fine. Let’s get the profiteroles. They look amazing, and you can’t mess up sharing that.”

Namjoon arched a brow. “Are you implying I messed up sharing earlier?”

You shot him a pointed look, lips twitching with amusement. “There’s beef on my shirt, Namjoon.”

Namjoon paused mid-grin, glancing down at your chest, before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. No more distractions.” He turned back to the grill, but not without throwing you a cheeky wink first. “Although, just for the record, you’re quite distracting when you wear that skirt.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I swear, you're impossible.”

Yet there wasn’t even a crumb of conviction in your tone.

The evening carried on naturally, the warmth of the alcohol and the steady rhythm of conversation made everything feel comfortable. The intimate little interludes— the flirting, teasing, the way his eyes never strayed far from you—kept the energy between you two charged. You weren’t sure whether it was the drinks, or Namjoon’s smile, or a mix of both, but you couldn’t deny the way everything felt amplified. You were tipsy, needy, and feeling more than a little flushed.

Namjoon noticed it before you did, that little shift in the air around you. He leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he casually placed his hand over thigh. “You’re looking a little red,” he remarked softly, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made a shiver run down your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, shifting slightly in your seat. “I think I might’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Mm, I noticed,” he said, his voice smooth, low. He didn’t pull his hand away, but instead gave your leg a gentle squeeze, before moving his hand higher up edging the seam of your skirt, “You look adorable though.”

A soft heat spread through you, making your heart beat in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. There was something in his gaze—something undeniably intense—that made the air between you feel thick. Like you could just eat him up, and he’d thank you.

“Do I need to carry you home?”

“No.” You swallowed, shifting your eyes away. “But you should stop looking at me like that. You’re making me blush.” You replied, trying to play it off, but your words felt like they were slipping from your lips a little too easily. You could feel his gaze on you, assessing, as if he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

Namjoon’s gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned in a fraction closer. His thumb gently stroked your skin, the simple touch sending a spark of heat straight to your core. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach twist in the most wonderful of ways.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible under the weight of his attention. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smirked.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, not sure whether it was a plea or a warning.

The playful banter felt more like a slow burn now, the kind that lingered in the spaces between your words and between your slowed movements.

 “Mm?”

“Please get the tab, so I can pay and we can go.”

Namjoon’s lips curled, his fingers still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Impatient, baby?” He murmured, his voice deeper now, like he was savouring the effect he was having on you.

You nodded, the growing need clouding your thoughts. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible. “I want to go home.”

He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to blur out of existence. His breath was warm against your skin, and the weight of his gaze made you feel both exposed and electrified. It didn’t even register that you were out in public anymore, or that there were other patrons around. The only thing on your mind was his dark eyes staring at you.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low and steady, his smirk never wavering. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He slid his hand off your leg, but not without one last lingering touch—soft, deliberate, and devastating—leaving you absolutely wrecked as he leaned back to call the waiter.

(Of course, he didn’t even let you see the tab, snatching it up and paying for your meal without a second thought.)

Every movement of his was slow, measured, like he knew exactly where your limit was and he was drawing it all out with maddening precision. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension, humming in the spaces where his fingers lingered, where his gaze met yours.

And when he brushed your hair to the side to help you slip into your coat, his hand found the back of your neck, resting there for just a second longer than necessary—firm and warm, enough to leave your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

The moment the door of the restaurant swung open, a gust of cold air hit you, the crisp night biting at your skin. The alcohol in your blood dulled slightly, replaced by the clarity of the chill as you instinctively pulled your coat tighter around you. Yet, the thin fabric did little to shield you from the cold, the breeze slipping through the seams.

Namjoon was right beside you, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street as if the cold didn’t faze him at all. With a glance your way, he stepped closer, shrugging his own coat higher on his shoulders before slipping his arm around you without hesitation. His hand rested lightly on your back, the weight of it both grounding and comforting.

His warmth beside you was enough to make the walk more bearable, and the anticipation bubbling inside you made it all worthwhile.

He turned to you, a slight smile on his lips. “Cold out here, huh?” he said, his breath visible in the night air, quickly leading you towards your home.

You nodded, pulling your scarf up a little higher to shield your face from the cold.

Without a word, Namjoon slid his arm around your shoulders, tucking you closer to his side. His touch was casual yet deliberate, like he didn’t need permission but still silently asked for it. The fabric of his coat was rough against your cheek, but his body heat bled through, chasing away the chill that had started to seep into your skin.

The street was quiet, the glow of streetlights casting long, soft shadows as you walked side by side. Those shy snowflakes from earlier now growing bolder, swirling down in earnest. They clung to your hair and coat, melting into tiny droplets against the warmth of your skin.

Namjoon’s hand shifted after a while, slipping down to find yours. Without hesitation, he slid both into the pocket of his coat, the gesture so natural and intimate that it made your stomach flutter anew. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absently, a small but steady movement that set your heart racing. Each step brought you closer together, your shoulders brushing now and then, as you neared your house.

His presence, the solid warmth of him beside you, was more than enough to keep the chill at bay.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the crisp night air as he glanced over at you.

You nodded, your breath forming soft clouds in the cold. “Yeah. This is nice.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Nice? You’re freezing.”

“You’re hot.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, accompanied by a fit of giggles that felt almost too loud in the still night. The alcohol still hummed faintly in your system, loosening your tongue, but it was worth it just to see Namjoon stutter, his eyebrows raising.

And then he laughed, full and rich, the sound reverberating through you. “Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head with an amused smile. His cheeks tinged pink—maybe from the cold, maybe not—as he reached into his other pocket, pulling out his set of keys.

“Smooth,” he teased, glancing sideways at you as he fiddled with them, making quick work of finding the right one. The lock clicked open, and he stepped aside to let you in first, the warmth of the indoors beckoning you like a sanctuary.

As you passed, he caught your arm gently, his fingers brushing along its length. His eyes met yours, a daring glint in them that suddenly made your heart pick up again.

It wouldn’t be the first time Namjoon pins you to the first flat surface as soon as you walked through the door, fucking every single sensible though out of your brain, and that idea sends a tingle of excitement coursing through your body. You smile up at him, leaning further into his touch.

But Namjoon is undeterred.

“Don’t make snow all over the place. I mopped yesterday.”

You tilted your head, a little indignant puff escaping your lips before you smirk, toeing off your snowy boots by the door. “You’re so sexy when you do chores.” You push your luck further, but your lovely husband can’t seem to pick up on it.

 “That’s it. No more drinks for you.”

“Mm, you love it,” you teased, stepping past him into the warmth of the hallway.

The cozy embrace of the house wrapped around you, softening the crisp chill that clung to your skin, inviting that sense of ease that only your home could bring. You made quick work of shedding your coat and boots, setting them neatly by the door before stretching your arms high above your head, a little moan escaping your lips as the tension of the day melted away.

Namjoon glanced over just in time to catch your little display, his eyes flickering with amusement—and something else. “Comfortable already?” he shrugged off his own coat and tossing it over a chair.

“Very,” you replied with a content sigh. Without much thought, you made your way to the living room and plopped down on the couch, curling up against the soft cushions.

Namjoon followed behind, shaking the snow from his hair before taking his seat right next to you. His long body settled into the couch with easy grace, his head leaning back against the cushions, eyes lazily studying you as you sink further into the couch.

The warmth of the room wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, combining perfectly with the comfortable silence that filled the air. You could feel the weight of the night slip away.

The alcohol was still buzzing lightly through your veins, making you feel a little lighter, more complacent.

Namjoon shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as his hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers resting there with an easy familiarity. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of your skirt, and when he shifted again, his touch grew bolder, fingers tracing slow circles just above your knee.

The small touch made your heart pickup again, and you looked up at him, catching the softness in his expression as he glanced back at you.

“So tired,” he confessed, almost like it was a secret. The day had been long for both of you, and you had no doubt the holiday season weighed just as heavily on him. Sure, yours was filled with glittering snowflakes and loud kids singing out of tune Christmas carols, while his likely consisted of conference calls, paper grading and presentations, but fatigue didn’t discriminate.

Still, there was something about the evening, the silence between you two, that made it all feel worthwhile. The day was over, but the night had a way of stretching on, leaving just enough space for small moments like this. Because with Namjoon, there was always something that made the world feel quieter, easier. Like he was grounding you, helping you recharge in a way no one else could.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response, your voice a little dreamy as you let your head fall to the side, leaning against his shoulder.

“You look tired too,” he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness, still his hand shifted to the inside of your thigh, fingers massaging your skin softly.

“I am,” you admitted with a small sigh, your body naturally melting into his touch as the knots in your muscles began to dissolve.

Yet, even as your body relaxed, a spark flickered deep in your belly—undeniable and growing—kindled by the deliberate care in his movements, each touch purposeful and impossible to ignore.

“But I’m also horny,” you tack on after a few seconds, your voice a little breathy, your eyes flicking up to meet his, watching for his reaction.

Namjoon’s hand stilled for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze dropped briefly to where his fingers rested against your leg, then lifted to meet your eyes. His smile turned slow, deliberate, and his voice dropped an octave when he finally responded.

“Is my baby needy?”

You nodded slowly, feeling completely vulnerable under his deliberate admiration “Yeah,” you whispered, the word falling form your lips like a confession. “I want you.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, as if testing the waters, giving you a chance to pull back if you wanted to. But the way his eyes locked onto yours, the way his touch lingered now a little longer, a little rougher, said he wasn’t going anywhere unless you wanted him to.

Instead of answering, you shifted, turning around to straddle his hips, tugging your skirt higher in the process so you could sit comfortably on his lap.

“Always,” you muttered, your voice a breathy promise before closing the gap between you. You pressed your lips to his with fervour, cutting off the teasing words he was no doubt ready to deliver, swallowing them whole.

 Namjoon’s hands quickly went to your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, and you giggled when he squeezed at your flesh, then shifted like he sensed something unusual.

“What are you wearing?” Namjoon murmured against your mouth, his breath warm and pleasant. The low timbre of his voice made you giggle, the vibration of your laughter mingling with the tickle of his breath.

“Spandex,” you replied with a grin. “How do you think my butt looks so good in this skirt?” With a playful movement, you lifted the hem of your skirt just enough to show him. The spandex hugged your curves perfectly, a sly smirk plastered on your face.

Namjoon chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the spandex before his hand returned to its frisky grip on your ass. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, as if memorizing every curve.

“Sexy,” he concluded. His other hand grabbing the edge of your shorts and letting it slap against your skin; the gesture drawing another burst of giggles from you.

“The sexiest,” you replied, your laughter dissolving into a grin as you shook your head. With an easy motion, you dropped your head onto his shoulder, muffling your laughter against his shirt.

It was ridiculous, you knew that—the whole moment—but there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart swell. Like he found you beautiful even in the silliness, even in spandex.

You remained like that for a moment, enveloped in the comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. His hands continued their gentle kneading of your flesh, and you shifted your hips, pressing closer, feeling his hardness through your clothes.

Namjoon let out a soft huff, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes, an impish glint in your own. With a wicked smile, you began moving your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding against him, enjoying the way he hardens beneath you. His hands tightened, pulling you closer, a soft moan escaping his lips as he let his head fall back against the couch.

“Ah, babe-” His voice was strained, thick with desire, the heat between you intensifying, his hips buckling up slightly.

Your hands wander up his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath his shirt. You can feel his heart racing, matching your own as you lose yourself in the rhythm you’d set. With a bit of fumbling, you managed to unbutton his shirt, watching as he shivered under the touch of your cold fingers as you chart his toned muscles.

“Fuck. Kiss me please,” he breathed out, his voice rough and needy.

Your mouth hovered just few inches away from his, the warmth of his wrapping around you like a cocoon. Close enough to count the moles and freckles that dotted his skin, to take in the slight stubble along his jaw. His breath mingled with yours, teasing your lips.

 Your gaze flickered down, lingering on his mouth for just a moment longer.

And then, you didn’t hesitate. Leaning in, your lips find his in a fervent kiss. His mouth moved with yours, tongues tangling as you explored him, your hands roaming the expanse of his now exposed chest. The kiss was all-consuming, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you since he stepped into your classroom earlier today.

Namjoon's hands are not idle either. They roam up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, making you shiver. You can feel his arousal pressing against your core, and you grind against him, eliciting a low moan from him.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands squeezing your thighs. “I want you so bad.”

His words send another wave of heat through you, and you deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You can feel the tension building between you, your own arousal growing with every passing moment.

With a reluctant movement, you pull away to stand up, your skirt falling back down to your thighs as you stare down at him. Namjoon looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as you slowly, deliberately, begin to undress for him.

Pulling your button down over your head, you let it fall at his feet, watching the way his eyes barely flicker to it. Instead, Namjoon watches you, his breath quickening as you reveal more and more of your body to him.

You slip out of your skirt, tossing it aside as you stand before him in nothing but your spandex shorts and a lacy bra. His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your body with a hungry gaze.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing, watching you kneel between his legs on the floor, your hands quickly moving to his belt to unbuckle it.

You take your time with it, savouring the way his breath hitches as you brush your fingers against his hardness. Once the belt is undone, you unbutton his pants and pull them down, taking his boxers with them. Namjoon lifts his hips to help, his gaze never leaving yours.

Now that he's fully exposed, you can't help but admire him; He's always been handsome, but in this moment, with desire burning in his eyes and his body tense with need, his unbuttoned shirt still clinging to his shoulders, he was downright irresistible.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock, hard and ready, resting against his stomach, and he hisses in a deep breath, melting under your touch.

“Fuck.” His head falls back against the couch pillows, breaking eye contact once you wrap your lips against his him, running your tongue over his leaking tip, swirling it and dipping it into the slit, enjoying the lewd sounds that escaped from his chest without abandon.

Emboldened, you keep taking him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and finding a steady rhythm that has him unravelling quickly. Your tongue rolling over his head every time you come back up.

Your hand starts working the part you can’t reach mirroring the rhythm you've set with your mouth, unleashing a flood of moans from him.

Namjoon’s hips buck, accidentally bumping the back of your throat, making you gag, and a quick, weak apology falls from his lips, although you feel like he doesn’t truly mean it, because he does it again right after.

 But you barely care, because his taut stomach clenches, showcasing his pretty abs, and the long, low sound he makes sends a new wave of wetness between your legs, urging you on. You were the one making him weak. You were pleasuring him in such a way that made him lose himself.

“Just like that, love.” He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, not tugging at it, but guiding your movements, fucking your mouth. You keep up with him, your lips now redden, tongue rolling on the underside, and your chin covered in spit as you bob faster.

The room is filled with the wet vulgar sounds your mouth makes and his low groans, the air thick with desire and anticipation.

“Fuck. Babe, stop.” He whimpers, tugging at your hair. “I’m close. Don’t want to cum-”

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls you away, holding you just out of reach as his head falls back against the couch, a long miserable “Fuuuuuck,” filling the space between you, as if he’d just received the worst news ever.

You blink up at him, your mind scrambling to understand his sudden outburst. His gaze meets yours again, and the regret swimming in his eyes deepens your confusion.

“Fuck. I knew I forgot something.” He groaned, voice thick with frustration, his fingers releasing their hold on your hair.

Your hand stilled mid-movement, your head tilting slightly as you tried to make sense of his words.

“You… can’t get blowjobs?” you asked cautiously, your knees wobbling as you stood up, bracing yourself against his legs for stability.

“What? No,” he blurted, his brows furrowing in indignation. “I forgot to go to the store. We’re out of condoms.”

Namjoon looked utterly defeated, his hands reaching out instinctively to steady you. Yet, there was something almost comical in the way his lips formed the smallest of pouts.

You bit down hard on the wicked grin threatening to spread across your face. He was adorable—even now, red hard cock pulsing against his chiselled thighs, neck flushed red, chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind raced. Likely scolding himself for forgetting something so crucial.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, and again, you bury your face into his shoulder, leaning into him to press a kiss against his neck, drawing his gaze back to you. His thumbs began rubbing slow circles against your hips, grounding both of you as you whispered softly into his ear, “We could always go without.”

Namjoon froze. The suggestion sent a visible shiver through him, and his eyes widening slightly.

 For a moment, the room was silent save for the soft hum of the heater in the background, the suggestion hanging in the air between you like a loaded secret. His hands, still resting on your hips, tightened slightly as he stared at you, trying to gauge how serious you were—or how far he could let himself go without losing control.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out broken despite his best efforts, and you lean back to look at his face, your hands holding onto his shoulders.

“It would make a nice Christmas gift.” You admit, almost bashful, but maintaining eye contact.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The playful tension had melted away, replaced by something heavier, more profound.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course, not” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “I want that too. I want a family with you.”

His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of you.

Namjoon let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes closing as if to let your words sink in fully. When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart feel like it might burst.

“I really fucking love you.” He murmured, his hands settling more firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you.

Your lips quirked into a small smile, your hands moving to cradle his face. “You better,” you whispered back. “I’m your wife, after all.”

Without warning, his arms tightened around you, and in one smooth motion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders for balance.

“Namjoon!”

But he only laughed at your reaction, the sound of it lighting up his features as he carried you down the hallway with ease. His fingers pressed gently into your skin, steadying you, and even despite your mock annoyance, your heart still fluttered at the way he held you—like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Don’t think being my wife means you can get away with teasing me like that,” he murmured. His steps were steady, purposeful, the warm glow of the bedroom lights spilling out into the hallway as he nudged the door open with his foot.

You grinned, brushing a soft kiss against his jaw. “Actually, I think it means exactly that.”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk as he laid you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering as if reluctant to let you go, while your legs remained wrapped around his hips, his hard cock pressing against your thigh. His gaze roamed over you, warm and full of affection, but the spark of desire in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, bracing himself with one arm while the other trailed down your side, sending a delicious shiver through you.

“You love it,” you replied, your tone just as playful as you tugged him closer.

Namjoon hummed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, every touch and movement making you feel lighter, like you were floating.

His soft lips were moving yours and controlling the kiss, and you melted in his arms, letting him do anything he wanted. He pushed your lips open, and you willingly allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, moaning against him when he hooked it around your lip to softly bite on it.

His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savouring every second of the connection between you two. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders to push away his shirt, letting it fall off somewhere, and in response, Namjoon pressed against you further, pushing you into the mattress.

You can feel the weight of his body on you, every inch of him pressed against your curves, and you revel in the sensation, though it does very little to soothe the burning ache spreading through you. You try to arch your back, try to make your hips meet, desperate to feel more of him, but Namjoon keeps you pinned down. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you're lightheaded from the kiss, each one of his lingering touches drawing you deeper.

His hands move with purpose, gliding down your arm and leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. Each touch feels purposeful, yet it only strokes the fire within you, the tension between you building with every measured caress.

Namjoon shifts, his lips abandoning yours to travel along your jaw and neck. Soft and warm, they graze your skin, leaving a searing path of heat that makes your breath hitch with every press of his mouth.

The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his breath on your neck made your head spin, the room narrowing to just the two of you.

 You gasp when he nips at your neck, his lips a welcome contrast to the sting of his teeth. His hips rock against yours, and you moan at the feeling, even if it's just his length pressing against you, but at this point, you’d take anything to ease the lustful haze that clouded your mind.

“Joonie,” you whimper squeezing your thighs around his hips, “Please.”

You fought to keep your breathing steady, but it was a losing battle.

 “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft like caramel, dripping with longing, his hands still caressing the sides of your body, stopping over your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra.

You mewl, arching instinctively towards his touch. “Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice hushed, sounding so needy that you barely recognise it as your own.

His eyes shift to your face for a quick second, a big teasing smirk tugging on his lips.

“Mmm, I will.” He replies casually, before pinching your nipples through your bra. A little whimper falls from your lips as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you.

He tugs your bra down, letting your tits spill out, and with an almost primal movement, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continues to tease and pinch the other one. You gasp, throwing your head back, letting out soft moans as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pulling him closer.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breaths against your chest, goosebumps erupting across your skin, before switching his attention to your other nipple.

You look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire. His hands slide down your body and you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your spandex shorts, tugging them down your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable before him.

He lifts his head from your breast, his lips red and slightly swollen, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. You feel a flicker of shyness wash over you, an instinctive reaction under his steady, adoring eyes. It isn’t that Namjoon ever made you feel uncomfortable—far from it. If anything, he had taught you more about how to love yourself than anyone else ever had.

But still, those small insecurities lingered, faint whispers at the back of your mind. The little things only you noticed, the things you thought didn’t measure up. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze, the way his touch seemed to erase every doubt and hesitation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but brimming with conviction, like he couldn’t hold the words back even if he tried. His eyes traced every curve and detail, lingering as if memorizing you all over again. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, the words tinged with awe before he leaned down to place slow, deliberate kisses along your ribs.

A shaky moan slipped from your lips, a sound of your clear frustration as his seemingly endless patience began to test your resolve. He chuckled softly against your hip, the vibration of it sending a wave of heat through you.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, your voice teetering on a plea, your fingers threading through his hair to tug gently.

His lips paused their trail, his gaze lifting to meet yours, mischief and adoration mingling in his dark eyes. “What is it, love?”

“Stop teasing,” you demanded, your tone shaky but resolute. “I swear to god-” but before you could finish your threat, Namjoon’s fingers swipe across your pussy, rendering you absolutely speechless.

“Holy fucking shit.” Namjoon breathed, the disbelief in his voice almost comical as his wide eyes flickered from your face to your cunt. “You’re dripping wet.” His fingers parted your lips, pulling them apart so he could see better. “Is the idea of me knocking you up turning you on this much?” His other hand joined in, both of them exploring your wetness, spreading it around. “Fuck.” He muttered, his fingers positioning at your entrance, sliding in and out of you easily.

You couldn't help but moan, your back arching as you pressed yourself into his touch. “Namjoon,” you sob, your voice filled with longing. “Please, just fuck me.”

“I will. I will,” he mumbles, moving lower to settle between your legs, spreading your thighs further apart, “After I get a taste.” He tacks on, quite proud of himself.

You couldn’t help but huff in frustration and desire as you felt his breath against your slick folds, ready to complain. But before you could get the words out, Namjoon quickly shuts you up, his mouth on you.

“Be good.” He warns, his tone firm but gentle, voice muffled against your pussy. As the words left his lips, his tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance all the way to your clit and then back down, causing you to shiver in pleasure. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open for him as he explored every inch of you, his fingers moving in tandem with his lips.

“Joon,” you whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to control the rhythm, your hips trashing against his face. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of heat through you, but his patience never wavered, even as your breaths became shorter and your whimpers turned into moans.

He slurped loudly, pressing his face in hard as he moved his lips and tongue expertly. You couldn’t help throwing your head back and moaning, the movement completely involuntary to you. His head moved around as he devoured you like a starving man, moaning to himself as he worked, his tongue lapping at your wetness, before coming back up to your clit and sucking hard, driving you crazy with the way his fingers moved and arched against your sweet spot.

“Namjoon!” Your eyes closed and you bit your lip, trying to muffle your moans, feeling the way his tongue swirled around your opening and licked up your wetness like he was savouring every drop of you.

He was worshipping you, consuming you like he’d been starving for you, growling whenever you pulled his hair too hard or moaned for him in a way he liked. Your back arched and you let yourself close your eyes, unable to stop yourself as your loud moans turned into gibberish, raising in pitch as he brought you right up to the edge.

His name was falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips bucking, thighs trembling and stomach clenched. You felt like you were about to explode, but he didn’t let up, not until you were unravelling against his touch. Your orgasm was so sudden, so violent and unexpected that you didn’t even get a chance to warn him, wave after wave of staggering pleasure washing over you, rendering you an absolute useless mess in his grasp.

 Namjoon didn't miss a beat, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came hard around him. Your muscles quivered and pulsed, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through you and adding to the intense pleasure crashing through your veins. And he didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your body, his fingers pushing your release in his mouth.

As you slowly came down from your high, Namjoon gently kissed your inner thighs, his lips warm and soft against your sensitive skin. You could feel his proud smile against you, and you couldn't even find the energy to glare at him.

It wasn't until your breaths evened out and your body went limp that you finally managed to push him away, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips when he looked up at you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked, his voice twinged with amusement, although a little breathless.

You couldn't be bothered to reply, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you managed a small, satisfied smile, your eyes closed in contentment.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against your hip. At that you chuckled, the sound light and airless, the remnants of pleasure still humming through your body like an electric current.

Namjoon began a slow ascend, pressing soft kisses against your skin as he went, each one making your breath hitch just a little more. When he finally reached your lips, his gaze was heavy with intent. He kissed you deeply, and the moment you tasted yourself on his tongue, a wave of heat crashed over you.

Your lips parted instinctively, drawing his tongue deeper as you sucked on it, the sensation unravelling something primal in your mind. A soft, desperate moan escaped against his mouth, your hands fisting into his hair as you clung to him, utterly consumed by him, by his mouth, by his hands against your hips. By Namjoon. Your husband.

“Ready for me to fuck you now, my love?” he asked, his voice low, a whisper against your lips, but one that sent a new wave of wetness to your core.

 You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence, so your let your hand drop to hips and pull him closer, eager for him to take you.

You could feel his hard cock press against your entrance, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to glance down and watch as he positioned himself at your opening. A low moan falling from your lips as you waited for him to thrust inside you.

But instead, Namjoon teases you further, swiping his cock against your wet folds, driving you wild.

“C’mon love, don’t leave me hanging. Say something.” He chuckles, watching your expression carefully as he pushes the head of his cock against your clit, circling it.

That completely makes you snap, a flurry of uncoherent begging and threatening falling from your lips, filling the little space between your heavy breathing and his low chuckles.

“Please, please, please Namjoonie. Fuck me. Get me pregnant. God! Move! You always do this,” your head falls back against the pillow, tears prickling at the inside of your eyes, your fingernails digging in his skin. “Knock me up, please. Just fuck me. I’ll delete your homework gradings if you don’t.”

He bets you have almost no idea what you were spewing, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Not when his heart swelled with love and desire at your words. He couldn’t resist you any longer. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you just for a second longer, before he finally pushes inside, agonizingly slow.

You gasp, your body trembling in his arms, feeling him fill you all the way to the brim. The feeling of him bare inside you, the warmth and the intimacy of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein. You feel every movement and every thrust as if it's the first time all over again. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that you can't help but let out a series of weak, trembling moans every time he moves inside you.

“Holy fucking shit, you feel so fucking good.” Namjoon whimpered, his hips slapping against you, pulling almost all the way out before filling you up again, “Fuck, you're so tight. I can feel every inch of you, gripping me, love.”

The sound of your skin slapping fills the bedroom with his steady thrusts, punctuated by the occasional slap of his balls against your ass. You gasp, your orgasm building deep inside you. You can feel it coiling in your belly, ready to explode at any moment.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” you moan, your hips moving in time with his.

“Shit love, look at that.” Namjoon presses a hand hard against your lower stomach, “Can you feel it?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. “Can you feel how deep I'm inside you, how close I am to filling you up?”

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, and you nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt his hand press against your stomach. His cock, so deep  and snug in you that you can feel the bulge faintly against your abdomen as he moved.

You nodded frantically, your eyes wide as you felt him pulse inside you. The thought of him coming inside you, of him potentially getting you pregnant, only served to heighten your pleasure. You were so close, so unbearably close to the edge, and with each thrust, you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to the brink.

“Yes, yes, I can feel it,” you gasped, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Please, Namjoon, please fill me up. I want to feel you cum inside me, fill me up, I want to carry your baby.”

Namjoon's thrusts grew more desperate, spurred on by your pleas, more urgent as he chased his release, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t think possible.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Don't stop,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Don't you dare stop!”

But of course, ever the contrarian, Namjoon pulls out, making you scream in frustration. An elongated, miserable “Nooo,” falling from your lips, your body going limp, “God! Namjoon! I swear-” but he ignores you, flipping you over on your stomach.

You still angle your hips up in invitation, although angrily, your body trembling with anticipation and frustration. You’ve known your husband long enough to know how he liked to play, and how to play his games. You plant your knees on the mattress, lifting your ass higher in the air as your chest falls against the pillows, slowly swaying your hips for him.

 Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Watching you offer yourself to him so willingly, so eagerly. He can’t resist your lure much longer. He positions himself behind you, his fingers tracing a path down your spine before grasping your hips firmly. You feel the head of his cock against your entrance once more, and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips, as again, he swipes it against your clit before sinking into you.

This new position allows him to reach deeper somehow, and you can feel him hitting your sweet spot with every movement. Your fingers clench the sheets as he starts to thrust harder, his hips meeting your ass with a satisfying slap, and you push back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, your pleasure mounting right back up, bringing you closer to the edge.

 Sweat starts to collect at your hairline, your breath hitching with each of his powerful thrusts.

“That's it, love. Take all of me,” Namjoon growls, his lips finding your neck as he continues to fuck into you. His hand snakes around to find your clit, and he starts rubbing slow circles around it, making your knees buckle under your own weight.

Your body trembles as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode at any moment, with any one of his thrusts that hits right against your g-spot.

“Namjoon, I'm so close,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets like a lifeline.

“I know, love. I can feel it. Let go, let me feel you come undone for me,” he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with need, his fingers flicking your clit softly, completely stealing the breath from your lungs. “Let me feel you clench around my cock baby.”

His words are your undoing. You cry out, dissolving into pleasure, everything around you cutting to white noise. Your elbows give way, and you collapse onto the mattress, completely boneless as he coaxes wave after wave of bliss from your trembling body.

His hands fly to your hips, holding you up for him as his thrusts grow more erratic, dragging out your orgasm and making you clench so hard against him that his movements stutters. You felt utterly weightless, as though your body had melted into the sheets, as if you had no strength left to hold yourself together.

“I’m so close,” Namjoon moaned your name, his sounds growing lounder and more uninhibited, as he relentlessly chased his own climax.

“Cum inside me,” you beg, egging him on. “Fill me up with your seed. Make a baby with me.”

His movements falter, his most base instincts taking over, and with one final, powerful thrust, he releases. Filling you up with his hot, sticky cum, you can feel it, coating your insides and leaking out. You clench around him, another orgasm, less intense but just as blissful as the first one washes over you.

The feeling of him coming inside you, the warmth and the intensity of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel your heart racing, your entire body trembling with the aftershock. You can feel him still inside you, pulsing to the rhythm of his own release, and the sensation of it is just overwhelming.

“Fuck, love,” Namjoon whispers, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. “That was...incredible.”

You can only nod in agreement, your breathing still heavy and uneven. You can feel him softening inside you, but you don't want him to pull out. You want to stay like this forever, connected in the most intimate way possible, his full body weight on you.

But eventually, he does pull out, rolling onto his back beside you and you snuggle up against him, your head resting on his chest as you catch your breath. You can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, broken only by your breathing, a soft, tired chuckle escaped your lips. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You have a breeding kink.” You state with a sly grin, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Namjoon huffs, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he mutters, “Maybe.”

“Good,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Means you’ll enjoy these next few months.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair as his gaze locks onto you, full of equal parts amusement and surrender.

“Fuck. You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

[hoperecs]

INTRO ⋆ 정국

you’re jeongguk’s secret santa this year, so you give him the best gift he’ll ever receive.

⋆⁺₊❅. 1/6 from christmas & chill

pairing virgin!jk x fem reader

genre smut, fluff, friends to lovers, first time

warnings painfully oblivious jk, even more painfully oblivious oc, mutual pining unlike anything you’ve seen, jk being a hot nerd ceo who’s loaded rich and unaware of his potential, please imagine him as nam joohyuk in start up, oc just creaming her pants for jk, hand job, lowk strip tease, dry humping, nipple play (m&f), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, jk is so needy and impatient but also very polite, smut is kinda rushed because well… it’s his first time! sawrry! also i open gifts on xmas eve please don’t come for me and my traditions (it’s lich just because i’m impatient)

word count 8.3k

author’s note hello hello hello!!! i’m so nervy to post this because it’s what finally inaugurates c&c!!!! i hope it can be a pleasing (intro)duction to the series hehe… either way you’ll get something totally better from miss lyssa tomorrow so stay tuned Wink 🩷 luv u always

banner by the talented @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

Secret Santas have become the only way you’ve been able to deal with Christmas. When it comes to gift-giving, you’re embarrassed to admit that creativity in that department doesn’t exactly come naturally to you.

You try your best, truly. But you either end up going over budget, striving to please all your loved ones with unnecessarily expensive gifts which will only leave you with empty hands and an empty wallet, or having your brain completely stop working, if not to come up with the most basic and useless options that will get you forced smiles and polite nods in fake recognition.

It’s exhausting, demoralizing, and frankly, a recipe for holiday burnout.

So when two years ago, on the brink of giving up entirely and seriously contemplating hibernating through winter, your dear friend Jimin swooped in and suggested Secret Santa, it completely reshaped your next Christmases.

Exactly a month before Christmas Eve, you reunite over drinks and food at Jeongguk’s house to draw names. His place always ends up as the default spot for dinners, movie nights, or even football matches. Those don’t usually get the attention of everybody, especially of some of the girls, and it wouldn’t get yours either.

But you never skip game night. Correction, you never miss an excuse to be in Jeongguk’s space, even if it means sitting through 90 minutes of men chasing a ball on a screen. After all, you’re never truly paying attention, always stealing glances at the boy who seems almost even more uninterested than you.

It’s about witnessing him in his house— which, truthfully, is more of a mansion. The spacious, cozy interiors mirror a part of him that’s hard to miss: his perfectionist side, the one that likes to keep things understated but can’t help leaving subtle, telling marks of his presence on everything he touches, is woven into every corner.

Over time, you’ve naturally come to associate the place with holidays, laughter, and celebrations that fill you with a sense of belonging. Being here, surrounded by your closest friend, makes you feel profoundly grateful.

And there’s so many traces of you all, too. The faint wine stain on Jeongguk’s carpet that is only still noticeable if you squint, the one that spilled from your glass when Hoseok’s jokes had you laughing too hard; the long, slim scratch on the kitchen door, courtesy of Eunbi, who thought learning how to balance glasses on her forehead would get one of her coworkers to finally fall for her; the wobbly vase on the coffee table that was knocked over during one of Jimin’s overly enthusiastic attempts to kick a water bottle open.

Watching Jeongguk deal with the chaos you all force into his space might be another big reason why you love being here. It seems to squeeze out his most genuine reactions and quirks, and you can’t help biting your lips at those, almost pornographically so.

For someone who works so hard to appear composed, and who’s also extremely shy and reserved, Jeongguk is hilariously transparent when things don’t go his way. Brows furrowed, as if that’s where he keeps all his control. Although, no matter how flustered he gets, Jeongguk almost never gets choleric. His instinct is never to lash out but to scramble, a picture of barely contained stress insisting that everything is fine.

And the more he insists, the more you find yourself wishing it wasn’t fine. Sometimes, you want to see him lose it— especially at you.

You’ve tried, too. You’ve pushed boundaries, done little things to test the limits of his patience, all for the slim possibility of seeing him crack, just for you. But it never works. The best you get is an awkward smile, maybe a quiet laugh. It’s not nothing, but it’s not what you want, either.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this crazy about someone before. Not in the way where everything he does sends your brain spinning with possibilities. It’s maddening. His obliviousness is maddening.

Chiefly tonight, when you’re trying extra hard to keep it under control, the whole group gathering in a circle around the bowl that holds all your names, each one carefully folded into a little square, waiting to be drawn.

But when your slim fingers brush against one of the many crumpled pieces of paper and decide your fate, you send a small prayer to whoever might be listening. Please, don’t let it be Jeongguk.

It doesn’t really come off as a coherent request, especially considering how much your body has betrayed you tonight. Your thighs have been pressing together most of the evening, a subconscious reaction every time your gaze wandered — lingered — on Jeongguk’s lower half. Those low, slouchy grey sweatpants, hanging effortlessly off his narrow hips, have been the source of many inappropriate thoughts that you wish would make you grow some shame within yourself. Instead, they only make you grow hotter in your seat.

No, you would love to be Jeongguk’s Secret Santa with the blatant, embarrassingly huge crush you have on him. You think you’d be happy about it in any other universe, except this one.

Jeongguk is difficult. And not because he’s ever been argumentative, looking to start quarrels, never willing to agree or see past his nose. He’s far from those. He’s one of the easiest people to be around, rarely judgmental, even when you were drunk off your mind and you jokingly grinded on very-gay Jimin to make up for your lack of sexual activity. On those occasions, you didn't exactly see judgement in his eyes. Just reticence. Maybe. It wasn’t clear.

What is clear is that Jeongguk is incredibly particular. He’s picky about what he likes and even more so about what he doesn’t, though dislike might be too soft a word. When he hates something, it’s impossible not to know. He doesn’t even try to mask his disappointment.

It’s not malicious, of course. He’s not the type to be spiteful. It’s just how he is, an open book, his expressions giving him away without fail.

It’s one of the many reasons you love watching him, other than hoping your eyes would telepathically convey your undying desire to fuck him and cuddle him close to your chest afterwards. But most of the time, studying the shifts in his features is a way for you to decipher what he’s thinking.

And that’s why this moment feels so high-stakes. The last thing you want is to be on the receiving end of one of Jeongguk’s polite smiles or barely-there nods of acknowledgment, the kind he gives when he’s unimpressed. It would crush you, the ultimate failure in your short-lived career as a gift-giver.

It’s not just that he’s hard to please. Jeongguk is also the last person who seems to need anything. He’s loaded, his success as a game developer has afforded him a life where anything he wants is within reach. And yet, despite his wealth, there’s no arrogance about him. If you didn’t know him so well, you might think he was just another college student scraping by.

Who else but Jeon Jeongguk could walk around in a hoodie and square glasses, looking like he just rolled out of bed, while being the CEO of his own company?

But, of course, none of this is important. Because as you unfold the piece of paper in your hand, it’s there. Jeongguk.

You don’t think you enjoy Secret Santa as much anymore.

With the bowl continuing its journey around the circle, you spend the rest of the game staring holes into the back of Jeongguk’s head, desperately trying to figure out what in the world you could possibly get him. Your monthly budget feels laughable in comparison to his lifestyle, but you’re already prepared to go way over it if that’s what it takes to impress him.

You wonder if he’s as insecure as you are when he quietly unfolds the small, paper square he picked up and scans the name. His bug eyed expression doesn’t hide an evident surprise, the twitch of his eyebrows managing to conceal a possible disappointment.

For someone who’s usually so easy to read, Jeongguk seems uncharacteristically guarded in this moment, and it drives you crazy. You squint at him, frowning as you try to decipher any small detail on his face. Is he annoyed? Or worse, completely indifferent?

Either way, it doesn’t look like a positive reaction. If it ends up being you, you’ll rethink back to this moment and cry yourself to sleep.

With the first step out of the way, the night goes on following its usual rhythm. Only by the end of it, Jeongguk’s space starting to empty, you quietly help him put some order to the mess left behind by a too drunk Hoseok paired with his too drunk best friend Taehyung.

You keep yourself busy with storing some leftover food, managing to keep your tone unbothered when you ask, “Hey, Gguk. Wanna help me with the party planning this year?”

Always obliging to your every request, he only stutters slightly in his movements, the glasses he was cleaning clinking together. He clears his throat, “S—sure. I’ll help you, goldie.” The stammer doesn’t seem to be caused by any kind of hesitation, just an usual consequence to his nature. Reserved, quiet.

You nod, gulping way too loudly at the special nickname he has for you, and both of you keep your focus on your doings instead of witnessing the faint blush dusting your cheeks, “Cool. I’ll text you the details tomorrow.”

Details texted, your efforts to divert the conversation into something remotely playful failed miserably. Jeongguk is painfully formal, methodical as ever, hyper-focused on the party. When you sent him a TikTok you deemed adorable enough to nudge him toward a different matter, maybe hint at the dog being the cutest thing he’s ever seen and that you two should definitely adopt three of them and move in together, he still doesn’t get it.

gguk🤍: Oh… I asked my brother to keep Bam for Christmas Eve. I thought he would be too much of a hassle, especially with Iseul not being fond of dogs.

You had stared at the ceiling for a long moment after reading that text. Jeongguk is endearingly dense, and you don’t mind it most of the time. But it’s starting to cause quiet bursts of frustration when it comes to whatever undefined thing you two have, and what is clearly simmering for the eyes of everybody to see, except his.

You’d thought giving him his first handjob when he quietly confessed he’s never been touched, his voice a tremble in the calm aftermath of a chaotic group sleepover, would be enough to make him see. His quiet whimpers were hypnotizing calls that only you were meant to hear, and your fist pumping his girthy length with intent was speaking all you were afraid to voice.

Jeongguk came hard and unannounced all over your hand, pleasured sounds muffled in the side of your neck, and you’d assured him it was okay; he did good; that you would get something to clean him up. You didn’t sleep that night, and he didn’t either, spending the rest of it next to each other on his couch talking pointless conversation.

If that hadn’t opened his eyes, you were beginning to wonder what would.

“So… Do you have any idea what to gift your person?”

Jeongguk stirs his latte for the fourth time. You’d decided to meet at a café halfway between your cramped flat and his mansion, because it was the easiest way you managed to make your busy schedules merge.

“No, Gguk,” you acknowledge his question without meeting his eyes, focusing on the grocery list on your laptop instead.

What would? You’re starting to think subtlety isn’t cutting it. Maybe it never has. Perhaps the only way to break through that frustratingly thick skull of his is to go full throttle, strip naked right here in the middle of this café and spell it out for him.

Your eye involuntary twitches at the thought in relation to his question. Crazy Christmas gift, you reason as you stare maniacally at your bright screen. Yeah. Totally crazy.

Shaking your head, you can’t resist glancing up at him. The idea doesn’t seem so irrational anymore, not when your insides twist at the sight of his absorbed expression, his brows furrowed as he scribbles out unheard-of maths on a piece of paper to figure out group expenses.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you abandon your pretense of being productive and let yourself watch him work. A teasing lilt slips into your voice as you prod him in your usual way, “Why should I believe you already don’t know who it is?”

He blinks up at you, promptly, like he always does when you speak to him, and he stumbles, “Huh— I don’t—”

“You so do. You probably already guessed it all with your nerdy brain.”

Despite looking mildly offended, his ears turn red anyway, “Nerdy brain—”

“Glasses look cute on you,” that shuts him up; his mouth, his brain. Completely unable to cater to any of their functions.

You smirk at the way he diverts his gaze, pointer finger unconsciously fixing the specs on the bridge of his nose, and you wonder how much longer it’ll take for him to notice that you don’t just go around calling everyone’s glasses cute.

Sighing, you continue, “Anyways. It’s not you.”

“W—what? Is it really not?” When he looks up at you with even wider eyes, you feel bad for lying to him but you still shake your head. He mutters, “Shoot. I was so sure I had it.”

A playful scoff escapes you, “See! You did sit in your nerdy room and tried to guess!”

“Stop calling me a nerd,” it’s a request grumbled in the most adorable way you’ve heard, and there’s no real heat behind it. Especially when he goes back to be exactly what he doesn’t want you to refer to him as, “Well, if it’s not me, it must be Taehyung.”

You pretend to busy yourself with your touchpad as you ponder on his eagerness. Then, you voice the result, “What’s the fun in knowing right now?”

Jeongguk hesitates for a moment too long before admitting, “I don’t know. I guess it makes me less anxious.”

It’s a raw kind of honesty, much like what he was painted all over with when he came from your touch, and it has you shifting your gaze back on him, now absorbed in doodling stylized portraits of Bam right next to numbers and additions.

You don’t know if it’s the hot chocolate still simmering in your tummy, the warmth from the coat laying on your legs, the café’s natural heat or Jeongguk’s proximity, but you buzz with something homely.

Ariana Grande’s version of Last Christmas replays for the third time in a row, and at this point you’re starting to believe it’s a conscious choice, but you don’t mind it.

Jeongguk belongs to the world the soft melody is building, hugged by a woolen white sweater, the wide glass window behind him giving the perfect view to a classic winter scenery, snow softly resting on any surface it finds and unconsciously bringing magic to dullness. Or maybe it’s just him adding that last bit.

You smile at his small confession, reassuring with your tone, almost drowning in the lively chatter of the place surrounding you, “You don’t have to be.”

Jeongguk only nods, tapping the pencil on his temple as he studies what he has so far with sudden doubt. He looks at your laptop, scanning the long forgotten visual board on your Pinterest, then back to his calculations.

Giving one more glance at the screen, he concludes, “By the way, I really don’t think that color would look good in my living room.”

Ugh.

You think you want to strangle him when he deflects so easily from these moments. And mostly, the burgundy he’s so easily refusing happens to be one of your favorite shades. Do your tastes ever match?

God, as much as you want him, you hope he’s not your Secret Santa.

────⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆────

Jeongguk is your Secret Santa.

And on Christmas Eve, he’s pacing the length of his living room back and forth, his socks brushing against the polished wooden floor with each step. You’re supposed to arrive any minute now to help him with the final touches before the others come for dinner, and the idea of having you here alone is enough to make his hands clammy and his thoughts stumble.

The neatly wrapped gift with its shiny red paper sits tucked under the towering Christmas tree, the one adorned in messy decor that his friends jumbled up together. The item hidden inside the bag doesn’t share his anxieties, though he suspects his downstairs neighbour might have caught on to it with the incessant pacing.

When you ring the doorbell he’s jolted out of it and, practically tripping over his own feet, he rushes to the door and yanks it open. He would have let you in just as rapidly if his brain didn’t stop short at seeing you standing there.

You’re cladded in a soft sweater that looks two sizes larger, its beige tones complimenting the warm brown of his own jumper, and your short skirt peeks out beneath its hem, edged with lace ruffles. At your feet, a pair of chestnut Uggs that he can only hope are enough to make up for the cold shivers on your bare legs. Not that he’s staring, so intently he has to gulp down an impulsive thought. No, he’s just a naturally observing guy.

And that brings him to notice that your hands are empty, save for a small purse and a bottle of wine. No bag, no box, no sign of a gift.

When his gaze flickers back to your face, your eyes are wide and darting nervously between his own, narrowed by the frown that he can’t quite hide but bug sized the moment he catches a trace of insecurity in your shaky voice, “Hi.”

It could be the cold causing the brief greeting to tremble, small snowflakes laying on your neatly styled hair, shimmering for a brief moment before melting away. It pulls him out from his unabashed study of you, and he steps aside to let you into his much warmer space.

Your vanilla scent inebriating his senses has him forgetting all about your seemingly non existent gift, and how he suddenly finds himself wishing he truly did get something messed up in his calculations, that you’re not his Secret Santa.

But you are.

Many drinks later, filling up everyone’s stomachs along with shared food and belly laughter, it’s time to exchange gifts and the expression on your face is unlikely anything he’s caught on so far.

A huge contrast to the mellow Christmas tunes indistinctly playing in the background, your eyes are impassive as you word your excuses, “I’m sorry, Gguk. I forgot your gift at home.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” he says quickly, the words spilling out with genuine ease. And it really is okay. He’s not upset— far from it. The thought of you giving him anything at all, even belatedly, is enough to make him feel content.

But now, as the group’s attention turns toward him, his heart races for an entirely different reason. His gift for you, a lavish, over-the-top gesture that far exceeds the modest budget they all agreed on, sits waiting on his lap.

When it finds a new home atop your own crossed legs, you’re eager as you rip the paper, but your eyes don’t follow your movements. Instead, you focus on the nervous boy sitting across from you, your very own Secret Santa who’s monitoring your hands for you while subtly rocking from one side to the other.

His anxiety is endearingly soft, but you can see something more to it, almost an irrational fear of tripping on the wrong step, messing up something that’s supposed to be simple.

You hear it before you see it. The whole room inhales sharply in a collective surprise, with some gasps muffled behind hands pressed to mouths. You scramble for an explanation in their expressions, jumping from one face to the other, stopping on Jeongguk’s own, gaze glued to his fidgeting fingers, head bowed down to his lap.

When you slowly look down at what’s resting on yours, you almost wheeze. If they could, your eyes would leap out of their sockets.

Your palm instinctively presses on your lips as you look between the gift and the gifter in a frantic attempt to catch any sign that this is not what it is. With the music being the only sound eerily filling the sudden silence, you add to it, even if barely, with your voice a whisper, “What is this?”

Jeongguk gulps and finally meets you, “It’s m—my gift for you.”

It’s not like you even opened it yet. But the simple sight of the box had you grasping for support. On the pale, textured surface of the square box, the unmistakable gold lettering is what’s making your orbs shake in confusion: Dior.

You trace the sign with your pointed finger, tilting your head up to look at Jeongguk through your lashes, and you don’t know how else to put it, “Ggukkie… Were you there when we set the budget?”

Jimin butts in with a scoff, “Yeah, that’s like fifteen thousand won multiplied by another fifty thousand.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what he should say. He’s scared of the deafening silence that follows, the way Jimin’s comment seems to linger in the air, the way you seem to struggle with finding something to say in response.

He begins, tries to, “I—”

“Fuck, Gguk,” the simple sound of your words has his mind spiralling, palms clammy with doubts that question his every choice leading up to this moment, feeling foolish for even thinking this could be right, a shot worth trying. What if you think he’s showing off? Or worse, overcompensating?

But what he fails to notice is the toothy grin that follows your shameless surprise, your fingers gingerly lifting the lid of the box, and really, if only he had the courage to look up at you he’d have avoided the worries.

He misses your reaction at the reveal: the prettiest earrings sit on a soft cushion, gleaming gold with delicate CD initials and cream pearls dangling gracefully beneath them.

“These are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I love them. You didn’t have to.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up. He meets your face painted with the most beautiful grin he’s ever seen you wear, your cheeks burning with red and your nose scrunching as you carefully slip the earrings to take a better look at them. With you, everybody else around him seems in awe, too. Their soft, endeared whispers begin to fill the earlier suffocating silence, melting into a sweetness reserved entirely for Jeongguk.

He exhales quietly, the welcomed warmth in his chest replacing the cold. He admits, no stutter, no fear, just a sheepish smile, “I wanted to.”

Jeongguk really did want to. It felt like his one shot. A desperate, last-ditch attempt at making you see him the way he’s always seen you; a declaration wrapped in gold and pearls.

He wants you to see him as more than the shy, awkward boy who stumbles over his words and blushes too easily. More than the nerd who spends too much time working on equations and codes half the world doesn’t know about. More, just to have you look at him a bit closer.

He wants to be a man, one who badly wants you, in your eyes.

They’re gleaming with adorable excitement as they flicker back to his, sheepishly accompanying your quiet request, “Can you… put them on for me?”

Jeongguk is at your side in no time, handling the earrings with care while trying to keep his usual clumsiness at bay as he fastens the dainty jewels in place. He begins to understand why it’s hard to see him as anything else but gawky when he feels his heartbeat speed up from the simple way his skin is brushing against yours.

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the spell, playful, “Oh, what a pretty princess. Jeongguk truly has an eye for this stuff.”

With the group following with chuckles and mindless banter, Jeongguk feels uncharacteristically bold, gaze fixated entirely on you as he lets himself spill something meant for you only to hear, “I think it’s just you. You’re beautiful.”

You’re clearly caught off guard, and it stings a little when he realizes the only reason he doesn’t get to see you this flustered often is because he’s usually busy being the flustered one. Blinking up at him through your lashes, your laugh comes out a little breathless, and the sweet way you let your cheek rest on your shoulder has him daring to hope.

“Nerd.”

But no. There it is again.

That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.

He forces a smile that barely reaches his eyes, but you’re too engrossed with having your pearls admired by the rest of the group to notice. Those weren’t a waste; he would do it all the same. You deserve everything that makes your eyes shine, that brings the corners of your lips into that grin that shakes him, that can ever bring you joy. He just wishes it could bring you more than that; bring you to a bigger sentiment, a bigger realization.

Perhaps that’s why he can’t shake off the awful mood that pervades his senses throughout the rest of the night, the earrings hanging from your ears catching the twinkly, warm lights and mocking him with delighted amusement. There’s nothing else you can do, you nerdy boy.

Perhaps that’s also why, when the house starts to empty and you’re in his kitchen making yourself helpful with dishes, he slips on composure when you accidentally let a glass slide from your dainty hands.

It breaks the moment it meets the ground, and the sound penetrates his ears, both of you jumping at the impact. He hisses, “What— what the heck, ___!”

You’re startled, blinking up at him. It’s not the chaos from the glass, not its tiny pieces covering the floor and reaching your feet. It’s the deliberate frustration of his tone, one he’s never let free, especially with you.

You pant for apologies, but they can’t seem to be let out. Wide eyes jumping between his own bug ones, your brows draw up in shame. It has never been this easy to get him bothered. Hell, you’ve even struggled to.

Jeongguk only sighs, dragging a hand across his nape, and he regrets the quiet sharpness in his voice the second he lets it out, “God. Be more careful next time.”

He’s still quicker than you on his feet, moving to sweep the mess you’ve created before you can even react. You seem to move in slow, infinite motions, kneeling down to pick up the bigger pieces, all while keeping an unusual silence.

He steals a glance up at you, biting his lower pierced lip in sudden guilt, “Are you okay?”

Your hands pause, clutching a fragment of glass as your eyes flicker up to meet his. You nod, distant, and it does nothing to convince him.

He doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to your hesitant confirmation, rather he’s hyper-focused on your fingers, and before you realize the shift in his expression, he alarmedly blurts out, “Goldie. You’re bleeding.”

The sting barely registers for you until his words bring it to your attention. Looking down, you see a sharp, red line running across your finger, small but enough to make Jeongguk spring into action.

You’re lifted off the floor and ushered to the bathroom in fractions of seconds, letting yourself be handled like you don’t own your body. The only thing you want to be aware of is the switch in his behaviour. He’s back to normal once he’s in his quiet bubble of concentration, movements precise as he cleans the barely visible wound and carefully places a band aid over it.

All while he can’t stop apologizing, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. That was not your fault. But, this. This is my fa—”

“Jeongguk, it’s just a scratch.”

The way he meets your eyes with his face drawn tight and brows furrowed makes you rethink your statement. Maybe it’s more than a scratch. Maybe it’s the only thing that snapped him out of his frustrated daze.

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t deserve that.”

Your first instinct is to giggle; it’s a resonance of the butterflies childishly swarming in your belly from the proximity and his careful words. Both your gazes soften as you accept each other, even the faulted versions of tonight, and a timid smile stretches over his lips.

You hesitate before speaking again, your mouth opening only to close, reconsidering your words; but then you finally let out what you had foolishly planned as your next desperate attempt to cling to him.

“Can you… My car is… Can you take me home?”

What you’re now sure you like the most about Jeongguk is how he caters to your needs before you even have to voice them. The soft kindness in his eyes, the way his body instinctively shifts to act before his mind even fully processes the request. He’s already nodding, ready to make it happen for you.

“Yeah. Of course.”

The heat in his car fans over your cheeks, dusting them with a soft red that has his Adam’s apple bobbing every time he turns to steal glances at you at stoplights. You keep talking, filling the air with contentment about the night’s events, and it’s like that subtle slip of his never happened.

It’s almost too easy to surrender and pretend that everything is fine, that he doesn’t feel the ache of wanting more. If staying a nerd in your eyes means getting to be this close, to hear your laughter, to see the slight curve of your lips as you speak, then maybe it’s enough.

His subtle gestures — adjusting the temperature so you’re comfortable, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter when your giggles spill into the cabin — don’t go unnoticed. They settle into you and have your heart beating anticipatedly.

God, you won’t regret what you’re about to do.

By the time he pulls up in front of your place, you promptly turn to him before he can offer anything else, voice a bit too eager, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Huh—”

“I’ll show you my gift.”

Jeongguk sits on your couch, because you tell him to wait there. And of course, he’s a great listener. Very obedient, willing to follow your every order.

His fingertips drum restlessly on his thighs and he can only busy himself with his surroundings, every detail speaking for you. What’s definitely more prominent is the intoxicating scent of vanilla that clings in the air, of which he hopes his lungs inhale the entirety of, never getting enough of everything that is you.

When you come into his vision again, walking down the stairs in quiet steps, you’re tightly hugged in a trench coat, the textured belt cinched snugly around you and accentuating the small of your waist. Under it, your legs are bare. It has his mouth drying and his legs spreading stiffly on the couch.

He thought he got better at hiding his concerning infatuation. He hopes he did.

That’s why he initially manages to chuckle and attempt a joke, “Are you going somew—”

“Ta-da.”

Jeongguk doesn’t think he’s breathing. He doesn’t think he can even breathe anymore. His blinking fastens, brain stumbling over itself as it tries to make sense of what he’s sitting in front of.

You’ve loosened the coat just enough for the fabric to fall and reveal what you’ve carefully wrapped for him. You’re a gift coming in a red lingerie set clinging to your perfect curves, your boobs deliciously spilling out from the sides of your lace top and the line of your panties thin enough to leave little to the imagination.

He pants, scanning over your body once, twice, three times, questioning if the wine was perhaps laced with stronger substances, “What— What is this—”

“It’s my gift for you. Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

Meeting your face again, he nearly groans. You’re almost bare before him, yet you still sport a crimson blush and your teeth graze your bottom lip in a sheepish smile, in a way that is so achingly you. He can feel himself throbbing painfully in his pants. Thinks he could cum just from this view, tip over the edge without a single touch, no matter how bad he needs it.

“Fuck.”

You’ve barely ever heard Jeongguk curse throughout the time you’ve known him for. He only sometimes reserves that for his monitor, Overwatch games causing his composure to slip in adorable loud whispers.

But it’s like you’ve broken his dam, and he only lets more slip as you walk slowly but certainly closer to him, coat discarded on the floor, “Oh my, fuck. Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you. I— I don’t know what to do.”

It’s a quiet plea, the one that’s hidden in his strained words but clear in his full eyes glazed over with anticipation, his hands hovering uncertainly over his thighs, chest still heaving and struggling with manual breathing. He’s begging to feel deserving of this, to have you prove to him that it’s what you truly want for the both of you, to have you touching him and to be touching you.

He can’t help the moan that escapes him when you position yourself in between his spread legs, bodies close yet not touching, but he’s dying to feel you.

Now your turn to bend at his every request, your head tilts and your smile widens the more he’s forced to crane his neck up to keep your gazes connected, pending off your every syllable, “You don’t have to do anything. Will you let me take care of you?

“Yes, please,” the confirmation is immediate and empty of hesitance. Under you, Jeongguk nods promptly with his lips agape, watering with want when you straddle his lap to sit yourself on him.

He wails, throwing his head back and searching for all the strength it takes from holding back his instinct to snap up against your core, snuggled atop his raging hardness. At his shameless desperation, your giggles fill his ears, and when they’re followed by your cold hand on his cheek redirecting his gaze on yours, he feels feverish.

Delirious, eyes barely keeping from rolling back, his brain reduced to senseless blabbering, “My God. Thank you for this.”

With his brows adorably drawn up, he focuses on your dilated pupils now that your faces are mere centimetres apart, and you close the distance with small pecks that trace his jaw, up to his ear lobe, whispering against the skin, “Are you seriously thanking God while I’m about to take your virginity?

Jeongguk hisses in a frenzied surge, his hands still unsurely keeping from touching you, and your sarcastic pun has him full on rambling, “Shit, sorry. I don’t even believe in God. This just feels too good to be true. You look like a fucking angel.”

“Ggukkie, language!” Your seductive tone along with your chuckle reverberates right against his chest, your hands moving to lead your own palms up and down his broad front, and when you subtly roll your hips against his clothed length, he breaks into a cry.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ll come so soon,” you don’t know if it’s the adrenaline of the moment, but you’ve never witnessed such a bold Jeongguk. It only spurs you further, your hand traveling down, and down, until it sneaks under his sweater.

When you find his nipple, you playfully roll it between your pointer and thumb, his trembling body bucking up in an unstoppable urge, quiet whimpers working to keep his tone down. But you want to hear him scream under you, just as loud as you can feel his heart beating.

You bite your lip as your eyes drift downward, watching where your bodies meet in slow, teasing drags. His wide palms press into the cushions on either side of you, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, and when you lift your gaze to meet his face again the delicious buzz pooling low in your stomach intensifies, your lips parting instinctively. A pretty blush creeps up his neck, painting his sharp jaw and cheekbones in shades of red, and his eyes, clouded, desperate, and burning with unfiltered need, lock onto you with a gaze that makes your knees weak even as you straddle him.

The simple grinding through the layers of clothing you still have on has you releasing whiny gasps in the air, his cock sliding torturously between your folds, and if you’re so affected by every shift you can hardly fathom what he must be feeling under you.

So you wonder out loud, voice rough the more you feel his stiff nipple under your fingertips, “How long since you’ve been touched properly, hm?”

His body hiccups, shaking with the barely contained lust, “Since— Since you last did, goldie.”

You coo, slowing down your movements and bringing your fingers to the hem of his jumper only to lift it and toss it behind you carelessly, “You’re so sensitive, aren't you?” At the view of his exposed chest, you can’t help roaming the expanse of it and feeling the tensing muscles under your skin, and by now you’re sure your panties must be ruined.

“Puh— please,” the plea is barely coherent, whispered out messily through high-pitched moans, but he begs again, “I wanna touch you too.”

“Then…” You let your hands speak for you, moving them to lead his own big ones to rest at your thighs, letting them drag up the curve of your ass. You’re impossibly close to his lips now, fanning against them, “Feel me, Gguk.”

Unable to resist, you fall forward and catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that struggles to find a rhythm, that has your tongues tangled in an uncoordinated dance, but that inevitably has you both humming loudly in an effort to almost devour each other, and his hands digging in your bare skin only force a gasp out of you.

In an impatient rush, you urge him to unclasp your bra, his unpractised and shaky fingers being joined by your experienced ones to finally free you from the tight confines, and as much as he wants to make kissing you a sport just to win every gold medal and break record after record, he can’t help separating from your lips with a wet sound to look down at your exposed breasts.

Jeongguk groans, and this time he doesn’t need you guiding him. It’s his own palms moving to cup you, and the innocent, light feather touch causes you to throw your head back and resume your slow grinding on top of him.

Both of you are panting messes, his moans significantly louder the more he gets to knead at your softness only to slice his thumb over your hardened nipples, the contrast making his brows furrow in hazed need, and when you arch your back into him he squeezes your tit to his mouth, eliciting a surprised wail from you.

Even when he gets closer, your sensitive nub engulfed by his swollen lips, he keeps looking up at you for approval with wide, teary eyes that beg for you to praise him. And with a hand gripping his wavy locks, you nod repeatedly for him to keep going, “Fuck, baby. Just like that, oh my God.”

He hums lowly with his mouth stuffed, his fingers digging in your flesh the more you drag your cunt mercilessly over the outline of his thickness, and he has to release you with a pop and rest his head on the couch behind him, palms keeping you somewhat still by the waist, panting out a desperate request when he feels himself throb dangerously close to his high, “G—Goldie, I can’t. Don’t— Don’t wanna cum like this.”

You lift your hips just enough for the both of you to whimper at the loss of friction, and you murmur through a string of kisses along his exposed neck, “How do you want to cum then, huh?”

He only whines, cheeks flushed with want and eyes glossy, forehead creasing with the way his brows are stressing, “Please.”

You show no mercy, flashing him with a wicked smirk and a teasing tilt of your head, “Ah-ah. Say it.”

Gulping with effort, his waist twitches up unconsciously to seek for your touch once again, and with his face turned to the side he admits in the smallest voice, “‘Nside of you.”

“Good boy. Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

He voices a loud cry just from the sound of your promise, only echoing more intensely when you hastily work at his zipper. It’s messy, uncertain, and it elicits breathy giggles from the two of you, drunk on adoration and high on desire.

Eventually, he’s stripped free from his confines, and his cock stands proud and hard, veins pumping the blood that has it throbbing against his toned stomach.

Jeongguk can feel your hooded eyes on him, can sense his tip wettening with the simple way you seem starved and eager to taste him, your hand coming too close to where he needs you the most before he gently grabs your wrist to stop it.

Automatically, your head snaps up, and the look on his face is one of nervous desperation, “Wan’ you to kiss me, please.”

You’re ready to comply to his every demand, and this one is as easy as it gets. You want to give him everything— whatever he wants, however he wants it.

Your lips mold with his in worldless acceptance, absorbing all you were afraid to voice to each other, making up for all the time you wasted, devoting to a sealed promise, the one that dances between your connected tongues, saliva making it wet and breathless.

Even more when your slim fingers trail down his torso before wrapping around his length, your wrist expertly flicking in a teasing touch, and his moan is unrestrained as it tears through the kiss. You swallow the sound greedily, steadying you against his chest rising and falling in frantic pants.

Before he can protest, his own hips bucking up in a silent beg for more, you steal the air from his lungs when you move your panties to the side and align your entrance with his tip, just to sink down on it.

The drag is slow and it has both of your eyes rolling back, pleased groans filling the air and straining against your throat when you fully sit yourself wrapped around his dick. You search for him, “You okay?”

“Shit,” Jeongguk seems hypnotised by the view of his thickness wrecking you in half, and his palms come to rest at your waist where his fingers dig into the skin. Your own playing with the hair on his nape only seem to make him more vulnerable, “This is perfect. You feel so good and warm, fuck.”

You’re not used to hearing him curse so openly and so often, and it naturally makes you giggle, the sound tickling his ears and leading his dilated pupils to look up at you through his lashes. Your sweet laughter fades into a lasting smile, one he can’t help but kiss, even if it’s all teeth, the contagious sight of your happiness getting to him too.

The moment is sickeningly sweet, bodies connected in more ways than one. With your kiss only deepening and your chest melting against his, you pull him impossibly closer by the back of his neck and start attempting slow motions on top of him.

You hear him through his thundering heartbeat, “Goldie… I— I don’t think I can last any longer, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Oh, shit, baby,” one particular shift has his length, deeply stuffed in your tight walls, finding your spot and teasing it with an electric buzz that travels through your body, “It’s okay. I’m so close too.”

The moment you try a firmier bounce and feel him find you again, you can’t help the way your movements fasten, your moans thick and low against your throat, his own louder and ricocheting through the walls.

You steady yourself with one of you palms on his thigh, leaning your weight back and finding a new angle to fuck yourself on him. He watches in awe as you work your fingers on your clit, rapid circling movements causing his mouth to hang open at the squelching sounds.

He pants, his wide hands guiding your riding, pushing you up and down, “Can— Can I touch you?”

You hum, but it sounds more like a whine, “Hm, of course, pretty boy,” the hand that was stimulating your sensitive nub now comes behind you to help support yourself on both of his muscular thighs, flexing under every shift.

Jeongguk is unpracticed as he leads his thumb to rest at your clit, applying a soft pressure and mimicking the same pattern he observed from you. He only seems to be focusing on his doing for the first few moments before he searches up for the reaction on your face, and he whimpers when he finds your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, your brows drawn up in pleasure.

You smile at the unconscious twitch of his chin, and give him just what you know he wants, “Always seeking my approval. You’re so good.”

The simple praise only has him working on you with more confidence, collecting some of your wetness and sliding it up along your lips. He learns fast, listening to your every sound and centering on your pleasure, as best as he can with his own knot getting closer to bursting.

You’re clearly affected by the simulations, your hips stuttering and riding around him, but you still make sure to concentrate on him first, “I’ll tell you when to cum, hm? You’ll listen to me, right?”

Jeongguk nods before he even knows what he’s agreeing to, “Y—yes. Yes, yes, fuck. I’ll be good. Wanna be so, so good for you. Wanna c—cum for you.”

“You’re so filthy, baby. Naughty boy. Fuck me.”

His hips meet you up with harsh thrusts that have you lose your balance on him, and you can only throw yourself with your arms around his broad shoulders, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he lets his desire take over, fucking up into you with a desperate need for release.

You think you see stars with the way he relentlessly pounds your hole, wet folds sliding along his length and causing a mess between you, his own slickness mixed with yours trailing down and pooling at the base. The sounds are inglorious, and they merge perfectly with your wails.

Breathing in his scent, you know he’s close from the way his thrusts are stammering sloppily, and his moans are closer to strained whines. You concede, “F—Fucking cum, Gguk. Cum inside me, fuck.”

He nods, slamming you down to meet his movements, desperate to feel you before he can stop himself, “Cum with me, pleas— Oh.”

When your walls spasm around him with your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, causing you to shake in his embrace around you, he feels himself cum unannounced, hard and thick, sprouts of white liquid relentlessly pumping inside your warmth.

You milk him dry, both your wails drained with the effort and fading into breathless gasps, his arms around you falling limply at his sides. You’re sprawled on his chest, emptied from any energy, and he is just as spent with his head lolling against the back of the couch.

But you feel it in your heartbeats syncing, the realization of what happened, what finally happened. You feel it in his face moving down to find your lips and catch them in a sweet peck, his fingers trailing up again to trace lazy patterns on your back before tangling in your hair, grounding himself in you.

It’s your own smiles breaking through the kiss, lashes tickling, and both of you laugh senselessly as you come down from the moment.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk breathes out, voice raspy, “This was the best Christmas gift ever.”

You snicker, biting your lip to hold back your amusement, “Oh, baby. It was just an excuse to fuck you. I actually did forget your gift at home.”

“W—What?” His brows shoot up, his post-orgasm haze momentarily replaced with incredulity as his cheeks redden even more.

When Jeongguk straightens on the couch, so do you, steadying your weak frame with your hands splayed against his chest. Sheepishly, you confess, “Yeah. Bought you that Mario game yo—“

“Princess Peach: Showtime?”

“Yea—”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, his excitement so pure it’s almost jarring considering what just transpired, and that he’s no longer a virgin, “God, I fucking love— that game. That is the best Christmas gift ever.”

You can’t hold back your laughter this time, shaking your head at how easily he slips back into his usual self, the one that had you buying a Victoria’s Secret set in that shade of burgundy he said he didn’t like just to attempt a crazy chance at having him.

Leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss to his lips that brings you back to the realization that you finally did get to have him, before murmuring against them, “Well, that and a second round. What do you say?”

“Please.”

[hoperecs]

────𐙚 knuckles deep (smut drabble)

────୨ৎ────

content: based off of a request, jk fingers oc until she cries and squirts, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation

note from cherry: from a fellow hand kink having whore that needs gguk to finger them like this.. sorry for typos!!

────୨ৎ────

"yeah.. doin' so well for me sweet girl" he hums, thumbing your clit in tight, excruitiatingly slow circles,

Although post first orgasm, he hasn't pulled his slender, long digits out of you for a second, thrusting them in so so delicately, all the while your slick drools down his hand, clouding the room in embarrassing wet sounds,

"fuck, kook please i can't " your hips stutter, thighs squirming around his hips, you're sprawled over his lap, ass poking upwards into the air so he has full acess to your weeping cunt, oh so needy for his pretty tattooed fingers

"oh baby, yes you can, doing so good hm? one more for me, one more baby" he cooes, reaching to the front to feed two of his fingers in between your restless lips,

tears begin staining your face as he picks up the pace inside of you- fingers curling, reaching all the way back with the way they hit against your spongey sweet spot,

"that's it.. such a greedy little pussy" jungkook praises, feeling your tongue lap around the tip of his fingers, he pushes them in deeper, cock twitching in his pants with how you gag a little before sucking on them like you would his length; lapping, sucking, twirling your wet muscle all the way down his digits

All the while your head is spinning- vision fading and his fingers fucking your sweet cunt is all you can feel, how he glides into your walls, nudges your clit with his thumb,

"so cute, so dumb for me baby, all fucked out" he bites his lip, groaning softly because you're adorably helpless- squirming, whimpering over his lap, all you can do is take it, take how well he fucks you with his fingers,

your hips arch up, still pleading mindlessly but the intense orgasm reaches you rapidly- rips your voice into a desperate, broken cry,

"thats it.. so good.. good girl" he curses softly under his breath, fixated on the view of his fingers disappearing into you and with every little thrust more of your arousal is everywhere- staining his pants, dripping all over your pillowy thighs, down to the bedsheets below him

you can't stop it- can't stop the stream of pleasure, overwhelmed by sensitivity

his fingers slow down, letting you feel every second of your high, until he draws them out, rubs them up and down your soaked folds gently, so very carefully with his little strokes because you're still twitching, still whimpering little noises into your bed

"kook- can't, mhh!" you sob, burrying your hands into the sheets, the trembling doesn't stop, Jungkook soothes it with his big, veiny hands, rubbing your thighs reassuringly

"did so well, you squirted everywhere sweetheart, made a mess.."

[hoperecs]

jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 3

★ starry night (m) | jjk - @kithtaehyung (all you wanted to do was take your boyfriend on a super late date.)

★ Millisecond - @kookiepleasee (Jungkook just can’t get enough of you, but is too afraid to make a move, so he just admires you from afar, every day.)

★ Home: risky birthday 🔞 - @bonny-kookoo (In which you really don't know how he talked you into this.)

★ just a little... | jjk drabble - @soft4gguk

★ "big tiddie anime bitches" | jjk - @h0neypjm (Jungkook, bless his heart, has an obsession. An obsession with big titty anime girls and the idea of you dressed as them. His birthday is coming up, what better time to fulfil his weeb fantasies than on Jungkook's special day.)

★ WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES — JJK (m.) - @awrkive (there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so. or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.)

★ ( 전정국 ) . . . BURNING HOUR jeon jungkook - @jungqkook (there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.)

★ fill with fire, exhale desire, m | jjk - @whatifyoulivelikethat (He smokes cigarettes. You hate it. You always have a lighter in your pocket. He is pissed off because it isn't for him, you say. So much is said, but the truth is in the silence.)

★ RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE - @rklve (your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.)

★ Devoted to Trouble - @jeonsweetpea (In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?)

★ whipped - JJK - @aquagustd (another day, another trend that you’re forced to participate in with your boyfriend. It was his idea but he somehow gets sidetracked, with his head between your thighs.)

★ campus affairs | jeon jungkook - @kooktrash (you transferred to a new college during second semester and you didn’t expect much excitement out for. that’s until jungkook came along and what had struggled to be a friendship was becoming so much more.)

★ [10:29pm] | jeon jungkook - @kookssin (established!relationship, smut, mirror sex)

★ Fall Back in Love | jjk - @bukguhope (jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you)

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬: - @euphoricfilter (it’s not often your boyfriend calls you with a cryptic message to come over; especially when he’s meant to be at his parents’ place for the holidays.)

★ fast forward - JJK - @aquagustd (If every single person you knew was against you, it wouldn’t matter, doesn’t matter because Jungkook would be there for you. That’s why you don’t question his words when he repeats ‘I’ll be back’ one disconcerting morning, and you respond with ‘I know. I trust you.’ He’ll make you eat your words.)

★ paired & puppy-eyed | jjk - @yoon-kooks (When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.)

★ risqué ; timestamp #15 - @mercurygguk

★ LOVE ME | JJK - @wnderkoo (I guess I'm just a sucker for love.)

★ CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special - @voyter (your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.)

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 - @pennyellee (You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?)

★ grumpy!jk - @awrkive (jungkook is usually a nice guy from the way he interacts with other people – but the only exception comes to you. and you can't figure out why.)

★ MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국 - @lovieku (when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.)

★ CRAZY | JJK (Part 1) - @girlygguk (you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.)

★ metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader - @runariya

★ Closer To You - JJK (18+) - @back2bluesidex (You know that you and Jeongguk are completely different individuals from every possible aspect, and there is no future of this relationship but you can’t push him away, not when he only wants to come closer to you.)

★ next door - jjk - @sugaimhome (Jungkook is obsessed with you. All because of some badly designed architecture and house planning, he’d do anything for you, and when he sees you struggling to orgasm, he takes matters into his own hands... or camera.)

★ PRESSED IN THE STEAM - @97kuu (There is only so much he can handle visually of your wet, hot and exposed body in an a private onsen before his member starts craving more than simple touches and thrusts between your thighs.)

[hoperecs]

Perv! Jungkook

wc: 579

notes: jungkook is your younger sister’s best friend <3, not edited !

enjoy !

MDNI ´-જ⁀➴

Perv! Jungkook that checks you out any chance he gets.

The second he hears your bedroom door open, and you walk out in your short shorts and loose shirts in the morning, he’d have to grab the nearest pillow and place it over his crotch area.

Perv! Jungkook who tries sneaking pictures of you when you’re cooking in the kitchen, making a good meal for him and your sister who were studying for finals.

“Kook! Do you want a lot of basil or a little?” Your voice is heard from the kitchen and Jungkook gets flustered from just your voice talking to him.

“A little please,” his voice is wary through the apartment but your sister pays no attention as her full attention is on her essay due in an hour.

Perv! Jungkook likes to watch you mix the cupcake mix.

The way your hips move from side to side. The way you’re hunched over just slightly and enough for Jungkook to take a peek into your shirt and the way your breasts just spill out of your black lace bra.

“Hi Koo! I’m making you and Suyeon chocolate cupcakes for dessert,” you say looking up at him, placing your finger into your mouth and licking the small amount of mix on it.

Jungkook hyper fixates on how long your finger stay in. The way he can tell your tongue swirls around it and he thinks about how you would do that to his cock. The moans he’d let out just for you.

Perv! Jungkook that takes the opportunity to go into your room when you’re out with friends. He sneaks away from your sister in the living room with the excuse to use the restroom.

He makes sure to close the door behind him as he inhales your scent. The sweet scent of you drives him insane.

Looking around your room, he walks to your mirror where a couple photo strips are taped around it.

They’re all with your group of friends and he sees the way you’re silly and cute with them.

Then he sees that one strip. Solo shots.

The one of you smiling, making hearts with your hands, and poking your cheek with your finger.

He makes quick work of yanking the strip off your vanity mirror and slipping it into his back pocket.

Later that night, when he’s alone in his room, the same strip is in his left hand with his heavy cock in his right. Stroking it up and down as he stares into your photos.

He quickly cums and the white liquid spurts around and onto the picture. He wipes it gently against his shirt but the wet smudge is still just slightly visible.

Perv! Jungkook that requests to follow you on Instagram because he needs more than just a photo strip at night.

The second you accept his follow, his boxers are pooled around his legs, and his hand makes quick work of stroking his cock to your latest post.

You’re in a pool at night and Jungkook just thinks about how good he could fuck you in that pool. He thinks about the way you would arch your back into him, the way he’d make you moan out loud and not hold back a single sound. Just for him.

He’d cum in you over and over again for as many times as you’d allow him to.