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jeonfiles · 9 months

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go and reread it cause the epilogue is about a week away :)

sweetest apparition 01│ jjk

pairings: nerd!jungkook x popular!female reader

genre: angst with a bit of fluff and a bittersweet ending (and the tamest smut you’ve ever read)

synopsis: he admired you from a distance. everyone did. you're serene, words dance like ballerinas of your tongue, stars aligning when you laugh, the wind was made to sway with your hair, you were just too good for the world, and you would never know his name.

warnings: !! graphic deceptions of domestic abuse!! , jungkook is a little too in love, oc is kinda obsessed too, mentions of alcohol and drug abuse

wc: 12k oops

a/n: if you're triggered by domestic abuse pls don't read, i will write other stories without a single mention of it soon, im sorry i love you :( this story is just everything i wanted to write for so long and i hope you don't think its cliche lol

++ started writing this in 2021 and it took me so long to finish

masterlist │ my cc

14 days

A loud smack echoed in the dark living room, the smell of alcohol making him sick to his stomach, cheek red from the impact. He carefully held his palm up against his cheek as he prayed to god for someone to save him from this awful household, and his father's clutch.

Jungkook wasn't a crier, he had grown accustomed to the lack of parental love, yet it still stung a little when he heard his father curse at him, questioning why he even had kids. Dragging his feet down the wood-covered halls, Jungkook scrunched his nose in disgust as he saw mold growing on the walls, and he had no idea what to do with it.

His feet took him all the way to his room, dimly lit up with a little nightlight he had bought at the town's annual festival, and next to it was a birthday card from a few years back, which you had given him. He wasn't a stalker, it was just the only birthday card he had gotten from anyone. You were both 11 back then, and Jungkook had invited the whole grade to a party at his grandma's house.

No one showed up the first 20 minutes, and Jungkook cried in his grandma's arms until the doorbell rang, and a sniffling Jungkook opened the door to see you, smiling brightly, stretching out your birthday card with two ten thousand won bills paper-clipped inside.

Jungkook appreciated how you didn't pity him that day, how you didn't even ask about the other guests' absence. You just devoured the chocolate cake together, both laughing at each other and your glaze-stained faces. You never spoke to Jungkook afterward, yet you still left the biggest mark in his heart, and he would never, ever in his life forget you, and how you lit up a broken little boy's heart forever.

Tears prickling in his eyes, blinking them away, gone as fast as they came. He went to sleep early that night, knowing he would see you tomorrow, possibly the only thing keeping him from completely giving up. You were his everything, the light of his life, shimmer in his eyes, despite you not remembering his name. He didn't care, he would just continue fantasizing till it swallows him whole.

13 days

The front strands of your ponytail fell down in your face as you laughed joyously, bubbles brewing in his stomach as he tightened his grip on the book he was reading, The Lover by Marguerite Duras, a disturbing book, which he wasn't focusing on at all.

You were laying down in the grass, frilly pink skirt and a white top, summer breeze warm and comforting, as you giggled with two of your many friends, Jihan and Sooyoung.

The two last weeks of school before the summer break was your favorite, your report cards had been handed out and the school didn't require you to wear uniforms either, so you could wear all the pretty clothes you had bought, preparing for the hot weather.

A guy approached you, which Jungkook recognized as Kim Taehyung, your best friend, with who you were very comfortable, a bit too much for Jungkook's liking.

His whole stomach twisted into a harsh knot when he threw his arms playfully around her neck, quite literally, because he could feel his breakfast come up his throat as he gripped onto the bench, hurling onto the grass. In some ways, he knew it was coming. He had felt the weird feeling in his stomach since he woke up.

"Oh god... Look at Jungkook!" Jihan chuckled, a vicious tone in her laugh. A frown formed on your face, feeling bad for him, so you loosened yourself from Taehyung as you reached for your purse to approach him.

"Jihan." You gave her a cold stare, and she looked away awkwardly, "I'll be back soon." Already rushing over to the boy who was about to wipe his mouth with his hand.

"You shouldn't-!" You exclaim, and he freezes. He's still hanging, face facing the grass, huddled over the bench, saliva dripping from his mouth, probably an attempt to get rid of the gruesome taste.

Jungkook slowly turned his head to face you, and his whole body froze when he met your sympathetic gaze. Digging through your purse you found makeup wipes, holding one out for him to grab. He didn't take it, so you leaned forward to wipe his mouth yourself. "Yuck, this must've been horrible. Are you okay?" You smiled as the tissue met the corner of his mouth, with no trace of disgust on your face.

He didn't try to pull back either, he was so mesmerized by your face up close, he genuinely thought his fantasies had finally swallowed him whole.

Jungkook had an unreadable expression on his face, he was pale like milk, and you felt worried and contemplated calling for a teacher, but you realized they could probably not do any more than you could, considering you were outside of campus, in the park on the other side of town for another foolish class outing.

Placing the used wipe on the bench next to him, he winced and moved a little away from it, and you just felt relieved that he wasn't completely dead. You grabbed a water bottle from your purse, holding it for him so he could drink. It was a hot summer day, the scorching heat had probably gotten to him, lips dry like sandpaper.

He took a few sips, hesitating for a while until he kept drinking. "You must've been so lightheaded, you have to take care of yourself." He only nodded in response. You threw the wipes away and buttered up your hands in hand sanitizer and hand cream before getting comfortable on the bench next to Jungkook.

"Sorry if you don't want me next to you, but I don't think you should be alone like this. You have anyone who can pick you up?" He pondered on your question, only for a short while, until he realized, he had absolutely no one.

"No." He spoke dryly, voice weak and vulnerable. It made you want to protect him, but all you did was sit back in silence, placing your hand on Jungkook's knee, and he grimaced in pain, letting out a small whine.

"Shit, I´m so sorry!" You pulled your hand away, smiling apologetically. Your friends looked at you, questioning looks on their faces as to why you were sitting next to someone like Jungkook.

You brushed them off, and Jungkook crossed his arms protectively, and you felt a pang of guilt. He had only uttered a single word to you, as simple as "No."

When he lifted his arms up, you took it as an opportunity to let your eyes wander, noticing how frail the boy was, how his skin was light as day, and his bicep covered in a purple bruise on his arm, you couldn't help but think he had been sick for a while.

"Let's move out of the sun." You smiled, standing up and taking his hand, and he slowly got up, and you offered a second hand to help him get stable.

His legs were wobbly, the emotions were too much for him. He was holding your hand, you were caring for him, just like you did many years back. You hadn't changed, you were still an angel and not a product of his imagination.

The tears that had been welling up in his eyes last night finally came to the surface, endlessly rolling down his cheeks. You could nearly feel the sting as you heard his quiet sobbing and saw his cheeks turn splotchy red.

He looked embarrassed, mortified actually. You quickly placed his arm over your shoulder, as you started walking away from the open areas of the park. The bus station was close by, so you walked away from the park and your teachers, and none of you seemed to care.

A bus you took quite often luckily passed by, and you waved for it to stop, and of course, the bus driver stopped for you, a sight to behold, and you halted onto the bus with a sniffling Jungkook.

You both looked at each other, eyes widening when you realized that you had skipped school. Chuckling together, your heart warmed up, finally, he was smiling.

You wiped his tear with his thumb as you swore you would protect him from all danger. You both went separate ways that evening after you paid for some cheap mediocre sandwiches at the gas station, not talking much.

12 days left

The next time you see Jungkook, it's no different from the first, he's in yet another pitiful situation, nervously picking up all the books he had just dropped on the ground when crashing into Moonbin, another sleaze who has tried it with you.

"Watch your step dweeb," Moonbin growled, placing a foot on Jungkook's shoulder, pushing him down so his head hits the gravel.

Poor Jungkook groaned in agony, throbbing pain as he rushed to pick up the rest of his books, muttering sorry over and over again.

"Moonbin, what the fuck is your problem?" You stepped in, his saving angel. God had sent you to aid him, he was sure of it. "What has he ever done to you?" You spat, standing between the two boys.

Moonbin was a good 6'3, his height a little intimidating, yet you didn't budge. "Y/N-ah, seriously, stay out of it." His expression softened at the sight of you, and it only made you even angrier, stepping with full force on his foot, making him yell in agony, the little heel crushing his toes.

"Jungkook is my friend, and you don't mess with my friends." You smiled proudly, shooing Moonbin and his bruised ego away before you sat down on the ground with Jungkook, who looked at you like you possessed the world's greatest treasures.

You knew his name. You, Y/N Y/L/N, knew his name. He could squeal in happiness any second, luckily his throbbing headache kept him grounded, adoration glazing his pretty eyes. He had a little bruise on his forehead from the gravel, luckily no blood, and you didn't dare touch it, afraid Jungkook would cry out in pain again like he did two days ago.

You followed him to the bathroom, offering to hold his stuff for him, even his phone, case decorated in Undertale and Zelda stickers, and you laughed to yourself as you traced the stickers with your fingers. Out of a sudden, the buzzes from his phone wouldn't stop, and you flipped his phone around to see series of messages on his lock screen.

Dad 04:37pm

Where are you

You idior come home or i'l, throw your shit ouvt

Ungsteful brat no wonder your mom left tou

Heart dropping to the floor, you dismissed the messages and pretended you had never even seen them, scared Jungkook would close up again as he had finally started talking to you.

When he exited the bathroom, you pretended you hadn't seen anything, yet the lump in your stomach just grew bigger every time you looked at him. You started noticing, how his eyes were puffy, bags under his eyes, one cheek redder than the other, how skinny Jungkook was, and it made you shiver.

"A-are you.. alright?" He asked softly, and you only nodded, pressing your books up against your chest, trying to suppress whatever emotions you so desperately wanted to show.

He followed you home that evening, and you nearly cried out for him not to leave, not to go home to his dad who's texts had scared the living daylights out of you, so you reached for his hand.

"Stay for a while?" You pleaded, smiling, and he could see a little hurt in your eyes. He wanted to, so badly. Then he realized that he had a father at home, so he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, my dad wants me home." And you could hear the fear in his voice as he got ready to leave. His lips reduced into a thin line as you pouted.

"Give me your number at least." You smiled, despite being afraid, and he obliged, typing his number in on your phone, being extremely cautious because of the price of your new iPhone 12, while he was stuck with the iPhone 5.

He turned on his heel, and you couldn't stop him. He slipped out of your hands, your grip. You gulped, watching him walk till he was out of sight. You tossed and turned the whole night, which you never did, you always fell asleep in minutes. You were worried, a few dry cries probably left your mouth.

11 days left

He was present in class the next morning, a feeling of relief as you saw him with his nose down in another book, yet he looked even more defeated than yesterday. He ignored your smiles, he just looked at you with a dead expression and pushed his glasses up his nose, throwing his hoodie over his head, looking back down into his books.

Class ended, and you gracefully walked over to Jungkook's desk, because it seemed like he had no intention of getting up. "I made extra lunch this morning so we could share. You never eat during break so-"

"Y/N, leave." He pointed at the door, all the other students leaving, signaling for you to leave with them, you refused, and pulled out a chair to sit in front of him.

"You're all skin and bones, Jungkook. Let's enjoy this meal together, I can be silent if you want." You shrugged, grabbing two bento boxes from your backpack.

"Why do you care? Don't you have friends you should be spending time with?" Jungkook spat, not even willing to look you in the eyes.

You just kept smiling, opening the boxes carefully and handing him a pair of chopsticks, "You're my friend too, Kook-ah," and he accepted, a small grin appearing on his face.

He loves you, he absolutely loves you. He doesn't even mind that you feel nothing for him, you are so, so perfect. Jungkook could stare at you all day, letting your beauty sink in time and time again. He wants to hold you because you're so close to him, but he knows that you're two worlds apart, no matter the distance between you two.

You could hold him so tight he'd turn blue and you'd still be so god damn far away, you were so out of his league, as cliche as it sounds, it's completely true.

Eating together in silence as you promised. Jungkook was completely engulfed in your sweet, silent beauty, how you resembled a wave that hits the shore with such ease, splashing everywhere, landing as simple drops of water, which couldn't hurt anyone.

You weren't loud and outrageous, you enjoy moments of silence, you love everything enclosed, safe and sound company, exactly like Jungkook.

"You wanna come to my house today?" You break the comfortable silence.

"I can't." He replies, sounding awfully sad.

You could ask why, but you chose not to. You didn't want to pick scabs off wounds you couldn't see, so you waited till he told you yourself. Hoping he would.

"Okay. You have my number though, can we text tonight?" You smile, knowing it's weird to ask someone to text you, but Jungkook was weird too, so it didn't matter.

He nodded and continued reading a book you knew nothing about. You appreciate a good book, classics like Catcher in the Rye, and How to kill a mocking bird, but it seemed like Jungkook had taken the next step into the world of literature.

He made you happy, his company felt good. Nothing could hurt you now, yet everything could hurt Jungkook, and you swore you felt nauseous just thinking about it. You knew what was happening in his home, but you needed him to tell you, trust you, before you could help him. Give him what he deserves, he just needs to hang in there for a little while longer.

"Can't we skip school tomorrow, we can do something then? It won't affect our report cards!" You shake him excitedly, yet carefully, like he's fragile

"They'll call home, my parents are already mad at me for a bad grade I got last week." Jungkook sighs, closing the book he was reading. He lets out a weak, quiet yawn.

You think he's pretty like this, eyes puffy and lips pouted, hair messy, glasses resting on his nose. Jungkook has the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen, and you swore to god you could drown in them.

10 days left

See tags for warnings.

He dragged his feet down the pavement of a busy street, trapping onto his heavy backpack. It was a long walk since he had missed the bus home from school. He was tired today, even worse than yesterday. The summer sun was frying him alive, forehead covered in drops of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.

Wearing a sweater and jeans was probably not the most comfortable choice, but sure as hell the most secure one. He hated his legs, and his arms covered in purple and blue bruises, and how he wasn't fit at all, in fact, he had never entered a gym before.

Sometimes, he'd take the long way home. He tried to convince himself that it was for health reasons, that he needed the extra steps because all he did was stay in his room. Jungkook knew it was untrue. The only reason he took the long way home is because of his father and his unpredictable mood swings. Sometimes, he'd be in a good mood. He might even offer Jungkook the remote and the best spot in the sofa after a long school day.

Today, he was just so exhausted he even took a shortcut. He just needed a nap and something to eat. Opening the front door, he carefully stepped inside. His dad was on the back porch, smoking a cigarette and listening to the radio. Jungkook couldn't tell what kind of mood he was in. When he went to get something to eat, the fridge was nearly empty. Just some cheese and a few jars of jam. Maybe he could find some crackers to eat it with.

Looking closer at the cheese, it was expired. There were no crackers in the cupboard either. He had to approach his dad and see what mood he was in. Slowly sliding the glass door open, he called out with his softest voice:

"Dad?" His voice quivered.

His father turned around abruptly, seeing his son in the doorway. "What do you want now? I can't drive you to school if that's what you're gonna ask me. If you missed the bus you can walk." Jungkook heard his voice getting more irritable towards the end of the sentence.

He had to be so so careful.

"Uh, no... I just got home from school." He stopped to think for a while and his dad raised his eyebrows. "There's no food in the fridge. I was just gonna remind you that you need to go to the grocery store."

Jungkook´s father stood up, pushing his chair back.

"Who are you to tell me what I need to do?" He came closer and Jungkook braced himself. "You're just like your useless mother. Can't do anything on your own." He hadn't raised his voice yet.

"Sorry... M´sorry..." Jungkook muttered underneath his breath. At some point in his life he stopped defending his mom. It was somewhat true. She was useless, at least to him. She had ran away from her husband, Jungkook´s father, and started a new family with a nice husband. She deserved all of that at the time and promised to come back for Jungkook once everything was settled a few weeks later.

She never came.

"I can't believe I messed my life up so bad. Look at your mother running away from her own son, to think that I married her! Even worse, look at the son that I raised. Such a weak and sad boy. I can't even call you a man." He was yelling and Jungkook knew he was only seconds away from hurting him again.

Jungkook couldn´t even bother replying before his head hit the porch floor. He was still conscious and his dad pulled him up by the collar for another round.

When he was done, Jungkook limped his way into his bedroom and his dad sunk back into his chair and turned up the music even louder. He sat down in his bed and slowly took his hood off, wincing from the pain. His mind drifted elsewhere and landed on the thought of you. How your kindness and care could have calmed him down in seconds.

He picked up his phone and looked at the text from you from last night.

Y/N 9:17 pm - Yesterday

Hi Jungkook, how are you? ❤️ I can see that you're reading these :( Read 9:19

Jungkook 5:45 pm

Sorry. Hi. To be honest I could be better. How about you?

Y/N 5:49 pm

Happy you replied and sad to hear that you're not doing well. I really want you to come to my house tomorrow 🙏 I even told my parents that I made a new friend who's not related to my current friend circle and they couldn't be happier!! Pretty pretty pleaseee

Jungkook hesitated for a while. Considering his dad couldn't even grasp that it was 4 pm when he came home and not 7 in the morning makes him believe that he won't notice his absence for a few hours tomorrow. And even if he did, it would be worth it.

Jungkook 5:57 pm

Fineee

Y/N 5:58 pm

Yayy I can't wait!!

For the first time in a while, Jungkook wasn't dreading waking up in the morning.

9 days left

Jungkook 1:22 pm

Should we meet a slight distance away from school or should I just go directly to your house?

Y/N 1:25 pm

What are u saying? Meet me by the main entrance and we'll walk together!!

And so he did. You walked out the main entrance with your entire friend group and you smiled brightly as your eyes met with his. He was caught off guard by your lack of shame. "See you guys tomorrow!" You smiled brightly, and all your friends stared back with a confused look as you skipped towards Jungkook.

"What are you doing?" Jihan exclaimed. You turned around to her and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I´m gonna hang out with my friend!" All of your friends looked at you funny and you pushed Jungkook along.

"Sorry they're being such idiots to you. I try to make them stop but I think they have some deep rooted insecurities." You chuckled after a while of silence.

"It´s fine." Jungkook forced a smile and looked you in the eyes.

"No, it's really not fine and you need to stop saying that." You came to a halt and he turned to you. He didn't say anything and you couldn't read his facial expressions.

He knew he was dead silent and you probably thought it was weird. Only right now was he taking in how beautiful this side of town was. Large mansion style houses with three cars parked outside each house, modern communal parks and clean streets. You fit in so perfectly here.

If he closed his eyes real tight and concentrated very hard he could imagine himself as a family man in one of these stunning houses. Maybe he could own a Benz that he could take his kids to school in. They would never take the bus and they'd always come home to open arms and a homemade meal on the table.

Warm and lighthearted conversations at the dining table with his wife and children, everything his mom and dad couldn't give him. A pat on the back if they fail a test and not a slap in the face. That's what he wanted to give his children.

Jungkook was lost in thought and so were you. You were stood there thinking about how stunningly pretty Jungkook was. When you were close to him it was almost heartbreaking how it hasn't been appreciated more. How his face belonged on a canvas. That's what you thought of him. You aren't the type to stay silent when you really mean something. For some reason the words just don't come out the right way when you're with him.

"Are your parents home?" He questioned as you kept walking.

"My mom probably. My dad will be home for dinner."

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your mom loves Jungkook and constantly gushes about how well mannered he is. Your dad appreciates that he only speaks when he is spoken to and that he has realistic ambitions. You spend most of your time in the upstairs living room playing a stupid board game and watching a dumb sitcom.

It's quiet most of the time but the both of you can feel that you enjoy each others company. Just simply co-existing and not being alone feels nice for the both of you.

As Jungkook is putting his shoes on to leave, your mom walks in. "Jungkook-ah, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow as well? You're such a pleasure to have as a guest." She proposes, and he nods.

"If Y/N wants to spend time with me two days in a row." He chuckles slightly.

"You know I do."

He smiles, you exchanged goodbyes and he shuts the door behind him. Both you and your mom stay silent for a while before she breaks the silence.

"I hope this boy isn't a pity project to you, honey. You can obviously see that he's struggling and you can't just leave him behind when you're bored of him. He needs you more than you need him." She places her cold hand on your shoulder as she leaves you standing in the hallway.

You're not so sure that he really needs you more than you need him, because you so desperately need a friend.

8 days left

"Jungkookie, can I tell you a secret?" You're situated on your queen bed with floral sheets, both sitting with your legs crossed like 5th grade girls. Jungkook looked up and raised an eyebrow curiously at you as he nodded slowly.

"I was hanging with the wrong crowd a while ago. Not that I'm hanging out with the right crowd now, but you get the expression." You chewed your bottom lip nervously before you continue. "You know when I left school for a month to go to the Caribbeans?"

He lifted his eyebrows and widened his eyes in a "Yes... And?" type of way.

"I wasn´t in the Caribbeans. I was in rehab. An old friend of mine overdosed and I had to get drug tested. I tested positive on coke and my parents shipped me straight off to rehab." His expression softened as he placed a hand on your knee just like you had done to him a few days earlier.

"I was so mad at the time, I wanted to get emancipated from my parents. Today, I'm grateful. Grateful that they helped me so I didn't have to suffer the same fate as my friend." You sigh so deeply you could feel tears stinging in your eyes, but you managed to keep them down.

"Why´d you do it? Take the drugs I mean?" Jungkook asked ever so carefully, and you knew he only meant well.

"I guess I wanted to feel something." You shrug. "I think that´s why everyone does drugs in one way or another. To either feel or not feel." You smile sheepishly.

"What's your secret?" Feeling a little vulnerable and naked, you divert the attention to him. Maybe you're hoping to hear something about his dad. If he hurts Jungkook. That's what you suspect by the clothes Jungkook wears in this hot weather. How he always tugs at his sleeves.

"I want to study nursing." You stare at him and he knows it not as interesting as what you told him. "I haven't told anyone, ever. Maybe it's not what you wanted to hear but to me it's a secret." He stared down in his lap, not meeting your gaze. Chipping at the loose skin around a sore on his hand.

"That's really cool Kook-ah. I'm happy I'm the first to know." He looks back up at you. "Where have you applied?"

"I applied to PNU but tuition wise I think INJE or Dong-A is more realistic."

All of the universities he has applied to are all in Busan and you swore you could hear your own heart shatter. "Busan, really?"

"My aunt lives there and offered to let me stay with her for the first years of my studies." He chimed happily. "I guess I don't have the best relationship with my dad."

You decided not to push it, not to ask any questions quite yet.

"How about you Y/N-ah?" You liked the way your name slipped of his tongue so gently.

"I´ve already accepted my spot at Yonsei. I'm gonna study dentistry, so I guess we'll be in the healthcare field together." You smile, but you can't help that you're looking quite disappointed. In some ways you were hoping for Jungkook to be your forever friend, not a friend you occasionally see whenever you're in each others cities.

"When are you leaving for Busan?" You question.

"After summer, I guess."

7 days left

The empty desk in the classroom makes your insides feel like they're gonna twist and turn and send your breakfast back up your throat. His empty desk.

The two of you had grown abnormally close over the past few days, texting all night and spending the daytime together in some kind of way. Maybe it's because neither of you know how healthy friendships are supposed to be paced, you feel like you've been friends forever.

The entire day went by and all you heard was the tuned out noise of your loud friends yelling across the lunch table with nothing interesting to say at all. Only shit talk and gossip. There's always a new guy or girl to talk shit about. Usually, you wouldn't participate in the chitchat, so they didn't notice your sullen mood today.

No matter how much you tried to paint yourself as a saint or a saviour, you only saw an accomplice when you looked in the mirror. You had the power to make them stop picking on so many people, in some way, they saw you as their leader. Maybe they'd abandon you at some point, but wouldn't it be worth it?

Despite the fact that you never encouraged it, you never stopped them either. So you weren't better than them in any way although you liked to believe so. You liked the validating feeling of them obeying the things you told them to do, and you guessed that´s why you're too scared to confront them. You're scared that they'll rebel against you and leave you behind.

Y/N 11:21 am

Kook-ah, where are u?

Jungkook 11:24 am

At home The walk back from your house gave me a cold I think

Y/N 11:25 am

Oh no :( Get well soon and text me tn!! <3

You knew he was lying and you could feel your heart hurting from lunch time till you were in bed staring at the ceiling. "Honey! Dinner is ready!" Your mom yelled from downstairs, and you barely heard it through your door.

"Not hungry!" You yelled back, continuing the intense stare-off with your ceiling. Your mind explored deep and dark places when you were alone. Letting your mind slip back to your past or the worst experiences throughout your life was very typical of you to do.

The text message you sent to Jungkook is left unread. Until it isn't anymore.

Jungkook 8:21 pm

I really need you right now

You started blankly at the screen, heart pounding in your chest whilst typing your message.

Y/N 8:21 pm

Ofc, where r u???

Jungkook shared his location with you for 1 hour

You raced down the stairs, and your parents looked at you confusedly as you rushed past them and put on your running shoes in the hallway. You so badly wished you had your license. Darting out the door and slamming the door behind you, you weren't thinking straight. The air was cold for a summer night, but it was still bright out.

Jungkook lived on the other side of Goyang, a city right outside Seoul that you both resided in. Walking would probably take you 45 minutes at least. You didn't care. The wind ran through your hair as your breath was pacing. You made awfully loud noises as it was starting to get tiring. You refused to stop running, you couldn't stop running. Your body wouldn't let you.

The location Jungkook sent you was a park, and you guessed it was close to his house. Sometimes you picked up your phone for directions but you never stopped running, you only slowed down to a jog. A faint iron taste was present in your mouth and you were heaving for air, but he needed you.

Someone finally needs you.

You ran across busy roads, cars honking and people yelling out their car windows after you. At some point you even fell and twisted your ankle, but it only slowed you down slightly. At some point you start thinking of other means of transportation you could've turned to to get to him. This felt more rewarding.

"He needs me!" You yelled out like a crazy woman to motivate yourself as you picked up your pace.

"Your destination is 1 minute away." Your phone said from your back pocket. You looked around, and a bench with a silhouette sitting on it caught your eye. You ran over, head banging and feet sore.

You stopped abruptly in front of him, trying to catch your breath. You met his gaze. His teary-eyed gaze. All you could do was throw your arms around him and hold him ever so tightly. He sniffled into your cardigan and held you close.

He was gonna be okay. You didn't ask any questions that night.

6 days left

You were nibbling on a mozzarella stick your mom had packed in your lunchbox. Everyone else was eating the cafeteria food, but you couldn't stand the nauseating creamy pasta they served every other week. All your friends were talking about something you couldn´t focus on. Suddenly a few girls rushed over and shouted your name.

"YN-ah!! They're fighting over you!" You recognised a few of the girls; Jisoo, Heejin and Soomin. They had math class with you, and god, they were loud. Loud but kind. They´d always include you in their conversations since none of your friends were in that class.

You shook your head trying to come back to your senses. "Who is fighting over me?" You blurted out.

"Moonbin made the first punch but he punched back!" Heejin shook your shoulders and made you come with her. "Can you believe it?" She spoke yet again, dragging you down the hallway, your friends were right behind you.

"Who is the other guy?!" You refused to keep walking before they told you.

"Jungkook, obviously! He punched back!" They almost laughed in disbelief.

Jungkook. He was defending himself against Moonbin. The thought sent shivers down your spine. Moonbin was a self proclaimed professional in bathroom fighting. He'd fight anyone for any reason he could think of, just for the fun of it. He didn't leave Jungkook alone when you told him, in fact, it probably provoked him even more that you stood up against him a few days back.

The girls pulled you around the corner and into the mens bathroom. Moonbin had Jungkook by his collar, his nose was bleeding and there was blood on his blue shirt. He didn't look scared though. He looked completely and utterly numb. Moonbin turned around to see you in the doorway, and his face was pretty bruised up too considering the punch had only been thrown minutes ago.

"Moonbin, please stop!" You nearly screamed, choking on a sob. It only infuriated him more and he threw a gut punch at Jungkook. He winced in pain, and you let out a squeal as you could feel it slightly in your own stomach. The pain.

Taehyung came up behind you and you turned to him. "Please, for the love of god, stop them. For me." The tears were running down your face already, and he´d do anything for you if you asked. Taehyung rushed over and separated the two, and a few others who were watching helped hold Moonbin back. You followed close behind, and watched Jungkook slide down against the wall.

"Make them leave, please." You pleaded with Taehyung, and he obliged. He told everyone to get out as you fell to the floor next to Jungkook. You placed your hand on the cut on his lip and wiped the blood off.

"I´m so sorry. So god damn sorry." You sobbed uncontrollably at this point, and he was the one to comfort you when he was the one who was hurt. "Stop apologising." He held you this time.

"I keep making things worse for you. I act like some kind of saviour when I do the exact opposite." His gaze softens.

"It's worth it to me." He says, running his hands through your hair.

"You're worth it to me." You barely hear him saying it, but it's loud enough for you to hear. A soft, pained whisper.

"I think you're the best thing that ever happened to me." You reply.

5 days left

Jungkook was seated on the ottoman, his face covered in band aids and strips. You were twirling around outside the dressing room in a white summery maxi dress. "What about this one?" You question, doing an extra twirl.

"It's nice." He shrugs, letting his eyes wander down your body starting from the top. How the dress hugged you in the completely right places. Your hips and waist looked amazing, and he so badly wanted to touch you. Without the dress if he could, but he'd be more than satisfied with it on.

Your expression saddened as your mouth formed a frown. "Okay, should I be completely honest?" He asked seriously.

"Should I be scared?" You laughed. "Go ahead."

"I think it's beautiful. It's perfect. You're perfect." He said sheepishly. He meant it although he hesitated. You were so perfect. Jungkook hadn't been to the Louvre ever before, but he was sure that a painting of you would attract more attention than the Mona Lisa ever could.

He was sure people would travel from every corner of the world to see your face, even in a painting. Everyone who were lucky enough in person should be thanking the universe for blessing them with the opportunity.

"Really?" You beamed, heart pounding. "Is it okay for graduation?" You look down at yourself hesitantly, the cleavage of the dress maybe dipping down a bit too low.

"More than okay."

The sales assistant came to check up on you and her eyes lit up when she saw you in the dress. "It's gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. I think you need this."

"Honestly, I do too after such positive feedback." You giggled lightly. "Can you take his measurements and pick out a suit for him as well please?" You point at Jungkook seated on the green velour ottoman.

"Me?" He was flustered and looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes, you silly." You smiled softly.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He desperately pleaded with you with his eyes and pulled you aside.

"Y/N I can't afford this. I don´t know if you think that I have more money than I do but I seriously have to scrape together money for a new hoodie from H&M."

"No, god. I´m not making you pay when I dragged you all the way over here. Consider it a graduation gift. If not, salary for being my personal shopping assistant." You nudged his shoulder playfully.

"Look, I´ll wear some black pants that sort of look like suit pants and the school uniform shirt. I can't let you do this." He almost pushed you against the wall as he grasped both your shoulders. Unbothered, you pushed his hands off you.

"Can´t let my date wear something simple as that to graduation. My grandparents are gonna frame the pictures of me and you're gonna be in them. I want you to feel confident that day. You deserve it." You pull him in for a hug.

You walked back to the sales assistant. "Will you take him to get his measurements?" She nodded, and now it was your turn to sit on the ottoman. He ended up trying on a few suits, and you landed on one that the both of you really liked. You could see him sweat when looking at the price tag but you reassured him with your soft smile.

"Get changed and we'll go pay." He agreed and disappeared behind the curtain. You fiddled with your phone for a while before going to browse the store. Understandingly, a suit that was so perfect for his figure would take a while to get out off, but you went to check on him.

Between the crack of the curtain and the wall you saw him. His upper body undressed as he touched a wound. His whole back covered in purple, red and dark bruises. You had watched enough medical shows to know that they weren't from yesterday. He had more scars and bruises visible than skin.

He saw you in the mirror and turned around. He looked scared to death. Like you were gonna hurt him as well. "Y/N, what the fuck?" You stood frozen. You were scared too. All your suspicions confirmed. Sometimes, late at night, you'd comfort yourself thinking that you were overreacting.

He threw on his sweater and pushed you to get past. You almost stumbled. Before you knew it, you saw him outside the store window, nearly running to get away. Get away from you and your invasive self. He had hung his suit up carefully, and defeatedly you took it with you to the counter where your dress was laying.

"Can you get the suit delivered? I did something stupid and he's not gonna accept it if I turn up on his doorstep." The cashier understandingly nodded. You took your phone out as you waited for the cashier to finish adding up your total and bagging it up.

Y/N 3:12 pm

I´m so sorry I keep saying sorry but I really do mean it. I'm not gonna bring it up, ever. If you wanna talk I'm here but I´ll keep my mouth shut till you tell me to open it up. Please don´t close down on me.

"Excuse me, miss?" The cashier waved his hand as you had zoned out completely. "Sorry. Your total will be one point four million won." the cashier pointed to the terminal. (About a 1000 USD) "Delivery fees included." You swiped your card and he handed you a beautiful bag with gold writing.

Parts of you wishes that the suit was in the bag and Jungkook was walking nervously next to you.

You had to give him space.

3 days left

All of Sunday had passed without any replies from Jungkook. Your dad dropped you off outside school that morning. You weren't sure if Jungkook would be at school today, but you were dressed up pretty just in case. A pretty frilled blouse only for special occasions.

Like the gods had answered your prayers, you saw him. You met his eyes and he walked over to you. "Y/N-ah, I forgive you. I don't have time for anything else, I´m sorry."

"Time? What do you mean?"

"My aunt called yesterday. She needs help at her restaurant in Busan and asked me if I wanted a summer job and to move in earlier." He was studying your face to see your reaction.

"Jungkook-ah, no..." You whined.

"You of all people should know why I want to leave. Especially after what you saw." He tried to reason with you.

You threw your arms around him in the busy school hallway. "I know." You whispered. "It's okay."

"I just wished we had more time." You smiled bittersweetly as he pulled away. He wanted nothing more. He wanted nothing more than to stay with you forever.

"I got the suit." He changed the subject.

"Are you mad?" You gave him your best puppy eyes.

"Why would I be mad about a great graduation gift?" He laughed wholeheartedly, and his laugh filled your heart with warmth and gave you butterflies. He was making you all jittery.

Why?

2 days left

"Pour me another shot Jungkook-ah!" You held your shot glass in front of him as he smiled at you, pouring soju into your glass. You swung your arms around, singing to the music playing at the restaurant.

"Slow down." He said as he called for the waitress to take the soju away. "That's all for tonight, alright?" He patted your head. You liked the confidence boost the alcohol had given him. How he so openly flirted with you, and it satisfied some deep rooted needs of yours.

He paid for the drinks which you didn't notice in your state. "Let's walk home to sober up. We have school tomorrow."

"I think it's sad that we won't go to school together. We were totally acting like college students today and it was so fun. Drinking on a school night feels crazyyy..." You slurred and he pulled you closer as you almost stumbled over your own feet.

"Yeah, it is sad."

The rest of the walk was silent. Stopping outside your house, you felt a few raindrops hit your cheeks and head. Jungkook cursed under his breath. He had a forty minute walk home. "Do you have an umbrella I could borrow by any chance?" He asked shyly, retorting back to his humble, sober self for a second.

"No. Don´t wanna." You crossed your arms. "My parents are away for their anniversary. Won't be home until graduation." Tugging at his denim jacket sleeve, signalising for him to come inside.

"I shouldn't. I should go home." He refused.

"Sure, you should go home, but do you want to go home?" He looked so gut-wrenchingly sexy underneath the street lights, hair ruffled and a tired look on his face. Shirt unbuttoned so you could see his golden tanned chest.

"No." He replied, and you pulled him inside by his sleeve. You took off your shoes and for a few seconds you just stood looking at each other. Something was in the air. Something you had never felt with Jungkook before. It wasn't comfortable anymore, it was electric.

You needed him so bad and you were about to throw yourself at him. He beat you to it, he grabbed you and pinned you up against the wall. Your lips crashed and you didn't have time to catch a breath. You let out a few desperate moans to catch your breath as you both stumbled down the hallway over to the staircase.

As you were making your way up the stairs, you fell on your butt down on one of the steps and he got on top of you. You chuckled between the desperate kisses as he lifted you up the stairs. He was stronger than you thought.

He went down the upstairs hallway with you in his arms and into your bedroom with an open door. He threw you on the bed and wasted no time in trying to take off your shirt. "Kook-ah, I need you so so bad." You whimpered in despair, rutting your hips forward.

"I´ll make it worth it." He smirked as he kissed you. While kissing you he started unbuttoning your pants and you helped him. You were all exposed to him and he was completely clothed. You looked each other in the eye and slowed down. He started with his jacket. He hesitated with the shirt.

"Can I?" You looked up at him. He nodded slowly. You gently took his t-shirt off, and he felt incredibly exposed with all his bruises on display. You only smiled as you placed kisses on his chest, trailing down his stomach.

He took his pants off on his own and you handed him a condom. He slowed down again and you raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, a thought popped into your head.

"Kook-ah... Are you like.. a virgin?" you ask innocently.

He nods slowly again. "Don't treat me any differently than you would with an experienced guy. Some guidance might be nice but-" He says, panicked. You interrupt him. "So you want this?" You take his hand and you embrace it with your own.

"I want this more than anything." He kissed you again.

"I´ll take care of you." You bit the wrapper open and he put the pieces together as to how you're supposed to put it on.

"Aren't you supposed to do some sort of foreplay before?" He questioned awkwardly.

"It´s usually for the girls´ sake. I don't need that. I need you inside of me." You moaned, leading his body closer to yours. He let his hands slide up the side of your waist before carefully going inside you.

"Okay, do what you want with me." You smirk slyly as you whisper. "I'm yours."

"I know. And I will." He thrusts harder into you and your moans come out in unison. Tears start running down your cheeks and he checks up on you by stopping.

"Please don't stop." You cry out, placing your hands on his back. "Please."

He obliges and doesn´t stop until both your bodies give out. You fall asleep like that, bodies close and sweaty.

1 day left

This wasn't what you two planned at all. You both were pacing around your bedroom, refusing to met each others eyes. The alcohol had clearly gotten to you two yesterday and you the air was different. It wasn't comfortable like usual, or electric last night. It was uncomfortable. You felt like you shouldn't have let him yesterday. You wanted him to lose his virginity with someone he was in love with, not a friend he's been close to for 2 weeks at most.

Jungkook didn´t regret losing his virginity to you, not all. You were careful and tender, but you didn't treat him any differently like he asked you not to do. He was ashamed because he thought you would regret it. That he took advantage of you in your drunken state, and that you wouldn't touch him like that sober.

You threw yourself down on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh. He looked to you and it felt like he was almost choking on his own heartbeats.

"Do you regret sleeping with me?" He asked gently with a sullen tone, sitting down on the bed next to you. You sat up startled when you had processed what he said through your throbbing headache.

"What? No no no..." You cupped his face in your hands and stroked his cheek with your thumb. "I don't regret anything about last night, Kook-ah." You looked distraught, like you really meant it, like you were shocked by what he had said.

"Good. Cause I don't either." He placed his hand on yours. Jungkook took the hand you had placed on his face and placed it on his knee. He drew circles on your palms and made little hearts.

"Whatever this is.. Whatever we're doing right now; I don't want it to end." You smiled teary-eyed. He was leaving you and you didn't know what to do.

Jungkook wasn´t great with this kind of stuff. The touching, the loving and the expressions of love. All he did was nod quietly, and you knew by the look in his eyes that he felt the same.

You didn't know how to identify the feelings you felt for Jungkook. Throughout you've had boyfriends and best friends but none of them made you feel what you were feeling right now. Here, with him.

You had slept with a few guys before, and you've also slept with a best friend before. Taehyung, less than a year back. That felt weird, but not weird in the way Jungkook made you feel.

Not weird in a bad way.

"Y/N... I have to go. My dad´s at a meeting with the department of labor for a few hours and the moving trucks are coming in the meantime." He grimaced, wanting you to understand why he was leaving you high and dry at 6 am like this.

"Aren't you coming to school today?"

"No, I need to do this now or else I don't know how I´ll get out without him finding out." He put on his denim jacket and kissed you on the cheek. "I´ll see you tomorrow."

"If you're moving your stuff out today, where are you staying tonight?" You get up from the bed and you place yourself in front of him.

"Honestly, I'm not sure."

"Stay here." You propose, smiling warmly.

God, he loved that smile. He loved you.

That morning, after he left you with your own thoughts again, you walk to school with a skip in your step. Taehyung greets you by the entrance and asks you why you're so smiley and weird today. You tell him that it's just one of those days.

He knows why you're smiling and he hates it. It's because of him. Taehyung can do nothing but observe as you make it so clear to him that you are not his and he is not yours.

You spend the rest of the school day thinking. You had lunch in the cafeteria with your friends and spent most of the time chatting with Taehyung about trivial stuff. University, summer and graduation. He was also staying in Seoul for school and was attending SNU law. You were impressed, not knowing that Taehyung had been able to get his grades up to study law.

"My parents wanted to send me to Harvard but contrary to popular opinion, I think it sounds overrated. I like the idea of being a student in Seoul." Taehyung explained, making you nod your head in agreement.

"I get that. There's just something about Seoul." He smiled as he stole a spoonful of your seaweed soup.

"Hey!" You ruffled his hair, knowing he had spent all morning doing it as revenge. He flung a spoonful of rice at your face and you laughed almost hysterically as you managed to inhale a grain of rice.

After a while you're laughing calmed down and your friends had stopped giving you two a weird look. "Do you have an apartment yet or are you commuting back and forth from your house?" He inquires, stirring his food around as fidgeting.

"I was thinking of moving out but I just can't find the right apartment. There's an open house next week that I want to go to." You explain, and he nods along.

"Is Jungkook coming with you?" He asks, now fiddling with his own thumbs.

"Uh.. no." He looks up at you. "He's moving to Busan tomorrow." You elaborate, and a look of pity flashes across his face.

"Oh."

"Yeah..." Taehyung smiled awkwardly. "So I'm gonna have to go all alone." You were insinuating that he should come with.

"I´ll go with you." He suggests. "If you want me to."

You nod.

It was starting to get dark out when you were seated in your windowsill with the window open. The window from your room had direct view down to the street and your frontyard. As promised, he was there, outside your door, waving up at you.

The day of

Jungkook was trying to curl your hair. After a few burns and a little cursing, he was starting to get the hang of it. You were sitting in front of the vanity with him standing behind you and while he was curling your hair, you were doing your makeup. The two of you were both in bathrobes, your outfits laying neatly on your bed.

"This stuff is hard. I'm sweating in fear of burning myself again." He snickers, and you laugh along.

"I´ll blow on your burns when you're done." You smiled at him in the mirror and you saw his reflection blushing slightly. "When is your train leaving tonight?"

"I'm taking the KTX train around 8 pm so I´ll be in Busan before midnight." He announces, and you feel realisation creeping up on you. Sure, the train ride isn't that long with the speed trains, but he's still far away and you're both gonna be busy. Your parents booked you a graduation trip to Greece with them and then you´re flying straight to Aiya Napa with a few friends, including Taehyung.

"Okay." Is all you manage to utter with a sigh at the end.

"You'll come with me to the train station, right?" He questions.

"Of course." You smile.

He finishes curling your hair and you add the finishing touches to your makeup. "All done." Jungkook grins proudly.

"It´s really pretty, thank you." You shake out the curls to see them properly and run your fingers carefully through them to loosen them up.

"I´m gonna go change." He said, gesturing towards your bathroom.

"Okay, let me do your hair when you're done please!" You request, giving him the puppy eyes that you give everyone when you want something your way.

"Maybe." Jungkook shuts the door behind him.

A few minutes later he came back out, all dressed up. Except the tie that he was holding in his hand. "I can't tie a tie." He admitted ashamedly, letting a slight chuckle escape his lips.

You turn around to see him and you're stunned. He looked great in the white lights in the store dressing rooms, but in this light, he looked gorgeous. The morning summer sun shining in through your window, hitting Jungkook like a spotlight.

Getting up from your chair and walking over to him, your heart was pounding a hundred beats a second. You couldn't shake the weird unidentifiable feeling that you felt when you were close to him. You swung the tie around his neck and tied it tight, but not too tight.

"I´ll send you a video tutorial if you want to know later, but we're gonna run late if we don't hurry up." You smile, patting his shoulder., signaling that you´re all done.

You point your finger to the chair in front of the vanity and he sits down. "Let's see. Hand me your gel." Running your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes in pleasure.

"It's really nice when you touch my hair." He hums in delight.

You alternate using the comb and your hands and soon you finish up. "You like?" You ask with a satisfied grin on your face.

"I love." He almost blurts out a "you." at the end but he manages to hold it in.

"Now I need to put my dress on." You let your bathrobe fall to the floor, now standing there in your white lace underwear. Jungkook rapidly turns away from you and you laugh.

"After what we've done you really don't need to turn around." You smirk confidently, knowing you're gonna make him flustered. He turns back around, almost shamelessly to watch you.

You slip into the dress and you struggle with the zipper in the back. He notices your struggle and gets up to help you. "Let me." He offers and you would never say no.

He turns you around so he's facing your bare back. He can't help but let his hands caress your back for a while, up and down, back and forth. Seductively, he pulls the zipper up slowly and you can feel his fingers brush up your back as the dress tightens.

Getting ready to leave, Jungkook grabs his little backpack of necessities since all his things are on their way to Busan. After you've celebrated for a while you'll follow him to the train station to say your goodbyes.

Your parents drive you to the ceremony and you both hurried over to get your cap and gowns. The ceremony went nicely, and both you and Jungkook stood posing in your parents photos with your diplomas in hand.

"Kiss her on the cheek Jungkook-ssi!" Your mom laughed and you looked to Jungkook who was looking at your dad with a frightened look on his face.

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek as your dad jokingly shook his head. "What a pretty picture." She fawned when she looked at her camera. "Jinho, come see." Your mother gestured at your father and his lips curled slightly upwards before he pulled himself together.

The whole moment felt bittersweet and went by like you were thinking back on a blurry memory. Giggles, smiles, hugs and joy were the most prominent things in the blur that you felt.

You and Jungkook collected a few of the people who hadn't left school yet and invited them out for drinks. You purposely picked people who you weren't close with, except for Taehyung.

You invited Jisoo, the girl from your math class, a boy you knew from Forensics club and a few others you hadn't spent that much time with. Stumbling down the street to a nearby restaurant, you meet many other classmates. You get situated at a table and you share embarrassing memories from high school.

"Jisoo, do you remember when you got that love letter from Sungkwan and you went around telling-" One of the guys at your table started before Jisoo interrupted.

"Stop! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!" She laughed as she reached across the table to give him a little smack on the cheek. You look over to Jungkook who's staring out into the air, ignoring the constant calls from his father.

You take his hand under the table and you stroke his knuckles with your thumb. His shoulders fall down a little from their tense position when you touch him.

The weird feeling gets you again.

You know that Jungkook doesn't share as many fond memories from school as the rest of you around the table do, but you try your best to include him in the conversations when you can.

"Can we go outside?" Jungkook requests. "I have a memory I want to share." You look at him with a questioning look but you oblige and follow him outside.

You're standing outside the restaurant, feeling the summer breeze blow through your hair and your dress billowed to the point where it looked like a fairytale gown.

He gulps. He has always thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, but standing in front of him now, you looked angelic. He silently thanked the universe with blessing him with your presence. That he had gotten the opportunity to touch you and to feel you like he had.

"Y/N. I want to share a fond memory of mine that involved you, many years back." He spoke so formally you almost laughed at him, but you controlled yourself and nodded along. "The year I turned eleven, I invited the whole class to my birthday party. I paced around the floor as the clock ticked past six and no one had showed." He pauses and looks at you.

"I had given up all hope that anyone was gonna show, until you knocked on the door with a birthday card. You were the only person that showed that night and I've never forgotten about it." He sighed and his chest heaved for air.

"I hope you don't think it's weird but I keep the card on my nightstand." He admits ashamedly.

You don´t say anything, you just pull him in for a hug. The two of you stay like that for a while before you go back inside. It's seven pm when you go back inside and your heart feels heavy when you see the time on your phone.

The conversation goes on but you're so deep in your thought that you don't participate. It's hitting you real hard. Jungkook nudges you and shows you his phone with a bus schedule on it. It leaves from the bus stop outside the restaurant in eight minutes. You start saying your goodbyes to everyone at your table before you walk outside.

It´s silent as you're waiting for the bus, silent when you're sitting on the bus to the train station and it's silent when you get off.

"Platform seventeen..." He mumbles to himself and points you both to the right. You could see the sign with the little seventeen on it from afar but you so desperately want to point him in the other direction. Make him miss the train so he has some extra time to think about leaving.

a/n: so sorry for interrupting but if u want u can read the next part listening to the song I listened to while writing (taking pictures of you - the kooks)

He grabs your wrist and leads the way when you hesitate. Platform seventeen is right in front of you now, and the train is already there. He's looking you straight in the eyes, dressed in a suit and hair done all neatly you swore you could pass out.

You knew it was over although it never really started. All you did was spend fourteen days together, moving extremely quickly forward from strangers to being in bed together. You liked those fourteen days, you loved those fourteen days and you hated those fourteen days.

"I have to go." His lips quivered and your eyes stung with tears prickling in your eyes. There came the weird feeling again. This time, it didn't creep up on you, it hit you like a wave hits you at the beach, the type that makes you lose your balance and swallow a whole lot of water, struggling to get a breath of air. The feeling was unfamiliar to you and it felt uncomfortable.

"I really liked these fourteen days." You smiled genuinely through your tears. He pulled you in for another hug, less stiff than the ones before. It felt good to hug him, to get that last inhale of his cologne and the scent of his shampoo.

"Me too. I loved them." He spoke into your hair as he took in your scent for the last time in a while as well. "Visit me, please Y/N."

"Of course. I´ll come toward the end of the summer." You pulled away from the embrace to look him in the eyes. Before you knew it, you were kissing. The conductor yelled out that the train was leaving and he was the one to pull away this time. You took his hand and as he walked away his hand slipped away from yours.

He stepped on the train and you saw him through the window, never losing eye contact. You stood still on the platform as you were reduced to tears. The dark mascara that was running down your cheeks were the perfect contrast to the gorgeous white dress you were wearing. His denim jacket draped over your shoulders and your strappy baby pink heels in your left hand.

You were straight out of a movie.

As the train started moving, the feeling grew stronger as it finally hit you. You knew what you were feeling, and you had been denying it for too long.

It was love.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook and he was leaving.

a/n: honestly that's the end but if u want to read a sneak peek of part 2 then scroll down a little!! join the taglist here if u want to be tagged in part 2.

The Epilogue

Day 1140

It was late at night and your friends had dragged you out of your apartment to go to some stupid club that had just opened in Gangnam. You weren't friends with any of your old friends anymore, just Taehyung.

You and Taehyung could be considered more than friends but less than lovers. It was complicated and not exclusive so you thought that you might as well find someone to spend the night with. He was sleeping with other women, so you felt like you should as well.

The music was blasting way too loud from the speakers and it was awfully crowded on the dance floor. You finally made your way to the ambient bar that was on the quieter side. Club standard quiet, of course. You ordered a gin and tonic to loosen up and have some fun.

The first year of university, you spent everyday partying and bringing new guys back to the apartment you shared with your best friend Hayoon. She eventually grew tired of it and so did you. You spent the second year dating, meeting new guys from Tinder or agreeing to blind dates that Hayoon arranged, and that didn't work out either.

By the time you started your third year you settled down with being Taehyung´s something. Sometimes, your mind would drift back to what you felt for Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in 3 years and you never visited him in Busan, but what you felt when you stood on platform seventeen is a feeling you'll never forget.

You cancelled your visit to Busan in the summer and promised to visit for fall break. By the time fall break came around, he wasn't picking up your calls. You kept calling for a few weeks and in anger and spite you blocked his number and never reached out again.

You asked the bartender for a straw just so you could stir the ice cubes around. Boredom washed over you after a while, so you moved seats to sit closer to the one window that wasn't shaded black. You saw the busy streets, girls with wobbly knees and high heels who held on to their boyfriends for support.

You were scouting the streets for something interesting to let your tired eyes focus on. Just like fate, like it was written in the stars, he was there. Jungkook was there. Rubbing your eyes and closing them for a few seconds didn't make him go away. You got off the barstool and picked up your bag, ready to rush out into the street.

You didn't know what to say or how to approach him, but you had to do something. Maybe take his hand and lead him away, let him say the first sentence and really let his voice soak in. Let his words surround you and his hands touch you.

You walked as fast as you could out the door in your own high heels. You were like those couples, he was missing the girl in high heels and you were missing the boy to support yourself on. You stood frozen on the sidewalk as he stood across the road from you. A girl leapt into his arms, dark raven curls bouncing as he caught her and pulled her in for a warm embrace.

Only now did you take your time to process how Jungkook looked. He was buff and muscular with a tattoo sleeve. Only in a t-shirt at night, his arms were free from any bruising. You were smiling like an idiot until you snapped back to reality and realised that he was holding someone else.

She kissed him,

and he kissed her.

fin.

(for now)

part 2 taglist

#jungkook ff #jungkook angst #jeongguk ff #bts angst #bts #jungkook #jeonfilesjjk #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jeonfiles #bts ff

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jeonfiles · 9 months

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this is just perfect

the slowburn and the subtle angst building up is so good im gna die

throttle - jjk | five

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - jk and yoongi showdown (by showdown i mean they just glare at each other a bit), THE BUSAN CHRONICLES BEGIN!!! anyone who has read throttle know how important busan is for these babies he he, depictions of sex that aren't smut (i'd argue?), hair pulling, she's on top, existential crisis thoughts during it all, unprotected sex, creampie, HELLO KIM TAEHYUNG, he's a sleaze, ANGST, cc watches jk wank himself off <3, a lil mutual masturbation moment, cute kisses <33, cums on her tummy <3, character insight! backstory! ugh! i love the busan chapters! i'll upload the rest of the busan chapters now too

word count - 18.5k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

Jungkook has a face straight from a nineties rom-com. Boyish charm, eyes that linger; teeth that nibble on thin lips, and a smile that breaks like sun through a thunderous sky.

You're convinced that if he actually was a movie star, you'd watch every single film he was in - twice, at the very minimum. Maybe one would even become your comfort movie, for the days when real people felt like too much to handle; solace through the silver screen.

His nose slopes and points so delicately at its tip, that you always find yourself staring; marvelling. Wondering how an angle so simple could have you at such a loss for words. Eyes are wide and dark, they're like a vat of melted down dark chocolate, slowly hypnotising you with every stir of the rich delicacy.

It's when he smiles, though, that you really find yourself lost in everything he is. It's radiant, the way those plunging, round eyes of his crease at the sides, a deep line forming beneath them. His brows raise, and the dewy skin on his cheeks begins to tighten as they apple, and then his teeth - pristine, you think, ignoring any imperfection - are on show. You're home.

Home in his laugh, in his happiness, in the way that he always seems to be like this around you. Home in how he always finds an excuse to be touching you in some capacity, home in the sanctuary of unspoken words, and home in the hopes that maybe one day, he'll be brave enough to say them.

Hope is a funny thing, though. So much to gain and yet so much to lose - but if you never really had it, can it be considered a loss at all?

You're musing about this when Yoongi comes in through the side door, palms slick with motor oil, a few streaks staining his face and his shirt from where he's been a little bit careless. He cocks a brow, and throws you a cautious, coy smile.

"What are you doing here?" He angles his body away from you, almost as if he suspects you're about to throw something at him. His tone is slow, reserved, a little bit accusatory, if you do say so.

"My job?" You question - but you know exactly why he's asking such a thing.

You're always getting Jieun to cover you these days. He thinks you've barely worked enough shifts to cover the rent this month - and he's right.

He just doesn't realise that you have money sitting in the bank from stocks and bonds that had been purchased in your name when you were just a few months old. Rich people shit. Shit you wished you didn't understand, but were thankful for nonetheless. You may not be on good terms with your family, but you're not ignorant of the fortune you've had as a result of their choices. Having the ability to run from them is a privilege in itself.

"You still remember how to do it?" He teases. "Don't forget to offer the customers a receipt, and make sure you always pull up the right pump tab. Don't wanna be charging a soccer mom for some asshole's jeep tank."

"I remember, Yoongs," you say with a roll of your eyes and a narrowly hidden smile. He likes this smile of yours; the one you don't want to give but can't help but deliver regardless. "Thanks for the crash course, though." You thread your fingers together and stretch them in front of you. The way they click together has Yoongi looking at you like you've just shagged his dad. "Sure you don't wanna work my shifts all the time?"

"I'm sure," he nods. "Not a chance in hell I'm covering for you again."

And then there's that look on your face; the one he can never resist indulging in.

"Don't you dare," he says.

But you've always been up for a challenge.

"Yoooongs," you sing, voice high and sweet, like a hit of coke up his nose and down to the back of his throat, washed clean with Ribena. He knows what's coming, and he knows he won't like it - but he does like the way you bat your lashes for him. "Watcha doing this weekend?"

There's a resistance, but the invisible string that tugs on his lips is stronger than he cares to admit. He smiles, and you know he's where he's always been; wrapped right around your little finger.

"Why?" he deadpans, not hiding his infatuation well. "You asking me out?"

He laughs as if it's not what he wants more than almost anything in the world; as if he doesn't know it's the last thing in the world you'll be asking.

You laugh too, but it's to cover the guilt that weighs down on you. You thought he'd be over it by now.

"Not exactly."

"You should really start dating someone who respects your work schedule," Yoongi jokes, but it's kinda totally not a joke. He doesn't say it, but he'd always respect your work schedule. Would never ask you to make compromises for him; would never ask you to prioritise him.

But Jungkook doesn't do that, either. It's your choice.

"I'm not dating anyone," you say. It's childish because even though you aren't technically dating Jungkook, you're not exactly not dating him either. The 'what are we' talk hasn't happened yet. You're not ready for it. He won't ever be ready for it. You don't know this though, so you just think you're at the same stage, which is a whole lot more comforting. Think that things will progress naturally. Fall into place when they need to.

"But you're about to ask me to cover for you so you can go on a date, no?"

"...No?"

I mean, you're not.

You're not going on a date with Jungkook. You're going to his childhood town. So you're telling the truth - no dates involved.

But fuck, he'd held your hand as you stood beneath his shower together, telling you all about how he was going to take you to his favourite places, and you'd giggled when he told you that he'd force you to go swimming in the ocean with him, even if it was below zero.

You'd told him that it was fine, that you love winter beaches, and then you'd challenged him to a race from sand to shoreline. He'd agreed, of course, and then your laughter had dissolved into the pitter-patter of his shower, the warm water running over your body like a poor imitation of his hands, which were preoccupied elsewhere.

So no, you're not going on a date.

You're not dating Jungkook, full stop.

But you are existing together. Most nights these days. He works a night shift here and there, and sometimes you just need a little alone time - but more often than not, you'll head to his after work and wait until he finishes whatever he's working on. Your toothbrush has moved from the bathroom cabinet to the pot by the sink.

Your presence is undeniable, even if you are in denial.

Feels like you're lying to everyone, including yourself.

Especially yourself, actually.

Yoongi's back stiffens, his soft gaze that once was on you hardening as he glances out towards the forecourt. He nods curtly to his line of vision, and you know. He doesn't have to say anything because you can read Yoongi like a book.

His eyes look green in this light.

Beneath his breath, he mutters, "Speak of the devil."

And what a devil he is; dressed down in a pair of dark jeans with a black raincoat pulled over his head. You're down so bad that you're enamoured with the fact he's dressed for the weather, as if he's not a fully grown man very much capable of making such choices.

You think it's cute, and imagine him looking out the window as he was getting ready, heading back to his wardrobe for the anorak upon seeing the rain.

By the time you turn back around to tell Yoongi to fuck off, he's gone; snuck out the back to finish whatever work he was doing. He's not interested in watching you play happy families with some fucker he knows isn't worth your time. Jungkook could have been a brain surgeon, a charity worker, a fucking saint, and Yoongi still wouldn't have cared.

And by 'wouldn't have cared', he'd have been internally seething and ignoring the very existence of him, regardless.

"Just can't stay away, can you?" You say as you turn on your heel to walk away from Jungkook as soon as he enters the store. You're getting around to the cashiers' side of the till, creating distance.

Not because you want it, but because you think it might make him want you more.

It does.

"The cashier at Kang's ain't half as pretty," he flirts, and you swear that smile of his might send you to an early grave.

"Checking out other women, are we?"

"I'm here, aren't I? Not at Kang's?"

You want to argue with him just for sake of the flirt, but that anorak is really doing a number on you. All you wanna do is squish his cheeks and tell him how cute he looks in polyurethane-coated nylon.

"Touche," you grin, but it's muffled as he rests as palm on the kiosk and uses his other hand to pull you closer and steal a kiss. It's a risky move. Something he shouldn't really be doing. Not when there are three windows behind him.

He's on display like a puppy in the pet shop windows downtown. Anyone could drive by. Pull in. Anyone. Daegu ain't as big as it likes to pretend to be.

"So, I'm lying," he says, voice sweet and low. "I actually do have an ulterior motive."

"Mhmph," you breathe through your nose, rolling your eyes. "You're a boy, Jungkook. I know you didn't drop by just to ask how my day was."

"Okay, one - ouch. And two - I always want to know how your day is."

For a chronic liar, he's refreshingly honest when he wants to be.

"But?" You encourage, not wanting to skip the flirting, but anxious of the outcome for whatever it is he's here for.

He pokes at the bagged sweets like he so often does, his tattooed fingers gently prodding and pushing them about with no real purpose. He appears distracted, but he's anything but. You know this now; know it's just a Kookism.

"Buuuut," he takes his time, dragging out the word because he knows it will drive you insane. "I was thinking why don't we just head over to..." he pauses. Suddenly feels uncomfortable declaring the plans you have so publically. What if he hadn't noticed someone behind a shelving unit? What if your coworker is listening in? He carries on as if he didn't skip it, but waffles so much you don't have a chance to interject. "Straight after work? We go straight from here? You finish round about now, don't you? I know we were gonna wait till the morning, but I got itchy feet, baby. Wanna get outta this place."

You nod as his questions pour out like a broken faucet. You don't have to worry about your shifts, 'cause Jieun's already swapped with you. You'd struck a deal to work her typical early shift that day in return for her covering you over the rest of the weekend.

Truthfully, you weren't going to ask Yoongi to cover for you earlier - you were just going to ask if he'd watch the shop for 5 minutes until Jieun arrived so that you could escape a little earlier than you were meant to. He'd only just started his shift, opting for a later rota than usual. Weird, but not weird enough for you to question it too hard.

"Lemme just get changed," you smile, having come straight to work from Jungkook's apartment that morning.

The way you're always in each other's company, it's as if he'll suffocate without you around - which admittedly does feel like it's true, but it's more so that he's scared of what could happen if he's not there watching over you. Scared that someone will interfere with what he's doing. Scared the rug will get pulled from beneath your feet before he's gotten a chance to scatter pillows on the ground beneath you.

Running late, you'd skipped dropping by your place that morning. You weren't feeling all that fresh, despite the shower you'd had at his that morning, thanks to the second-day clothes you'd arrived in, so had opted for the uniform spares in the back rooms. The sizings were all off, and you're pretty sure you felt filthier in them than your own clothes, but it was rare for you to ever feel all that hot in your work uniform.

Jungkook is left alone in the shop as you head to the backrooms. He figures your colleague will be out soon enough to man the tills, so goes about looking a little busy. Eyes up the stale pastries that are definitely past their best in the cabinet next to the till. Reads the magazine covers, and wonders why the fuck people care so much about celebrities.

It's as he's flicking through a copy of Drivers Weekly that he hears a cough. "We prefer it if people don't read the magazines in the shop."

His eyes land in the direction of the voice, towards a man who is shorter than stature than Jungkook, but somehow feels taller. Broader. Stronger. A better man. Competition.

"You must be Yoongi, right?" Jungkook nods, voice a little hoarse. He's on edge. Doesn't like the way Yoongi is looking at him as if he can see straight into his soul - not that he'd find much there.

That's the trouble that comes with making a deal with the devil; he'll eat you from the inside out. It won't be long before Jungkook implodes, bones caving in on themselves. He's got a little while left to go until then, though. Maybe some major organs left to harvest. A little bit of liver for all the soju he's gonna need to drink to get over this, and the tiny sliver of his heart that belongs to someone else.

To you.

"Heard a lot about you," he continues.

Yoongi laughs. It isn't kind. "Funny. I've heard fuck all about you."

He stays stoic as he watches Jungkook purse his lips; shoulders rising ever so slightly and dipping again as he nods, letting out a scornful laugh. "Right."

Despite all he's done, all the stupid little mistakes he's made, Jungkook isn't dumb. He knows how to read people - and currently, Yoongi is a pair of burning red capital letters: F. U.

A petty remark rests on the tip of his tongue, one that could spark and ignite the dry wood of the bridge between the two men. There's no water beneath it yet. Jungkook would incinerate the entire structure.

Best not to. Not yet, at least.

"Hey babe," he calls instead, loud enough for you to hear, and direct enough to crawl beneath Yoongi's skin. You muffle a response to let him know you're listening. "I'm just gonna wait in the car, alright?"

"Okay!"

"Don't keep me waiting too long," he flirts, but he's looking at Yoongi. He's smirking. Eyes narrow. Winning. "We've got a hotel room to check into."

It's childish and he knows it, but he wants Yoongi to know exactly who's gonna be making you cum that evening.

You're cringing, knowing that Yoongi will be mentally imploding, but you also think that Jungkook is none the wiser. "Go wait in the car!"

"There's a place just off Gwangalli," Yoongi says, his attempt at looking unbothered fairly convincing - but not to Jungkook. He's convinced that everyone wants to fuck you just as much as he does, so would have always figured Yoongi was jealous. "A shoreline hotel. She really loves it. Maybe you should book a room there next time."

The insinuation is clear; Yoongi knows where you like to stay. For all Jungkook knows, maybe he's even stayed there with you.

But Busan is Jungkook's old stomping ground, and funnily enough, he does actually listen to you. He knows all about the hotel you love, and the fact you've never actually stayed there. Just dreamt of it; bridge views over the harbour, sleek marble coating the walls.

He also knows that it's overpriced and that there's a far better hotel just a few blocks up that doesn't get half as much attention. It's the place he's booked - 'cause fuck taking you home to meet the family - for the weekend.

Apart from the final night.

He's got you the hotel you love for the final night.

He'll say goodbye to Busan with you, just as you feel like you're saying hello.

There's an acute awareness that things between the pair of you won't always end happily, so he's trying to make the memories sweet. Giving you happy endings to daydream about when you forget that you hate him, as you inevitably, eventually will.

He's so caught up thinking about it that he forgets to reply to Yoongi. His train of thought is interrupted by Yoongi once more, his voice low this time. He's trying to avoid being heard by you.

"Just... be careful with her."

Silence in the wake of Yoongi's request deafens them both. His words are weighted. Jungkook knows Yoongi is telling him to take care of you, but part of him can't help but wonder if it's a warning. Maybe he should be careful of you, instead.

He's not the only one with secrets. Naive of him to assume he is.

"Thought you were waiting in the car?" You smile as you finally emerge.

Jungkook's eyes are on you immediately, and suddenly you're not the only one with a chime in your stomach. There's one in his too, and it's humming to the beat of his heart.

He'd already figured that you'd stolen one of his shirts before he woke, thanks to the fact your dress was hooked over the back of his desk chair that morning. It's grey and faded, a billion sizes too big, resting just below your midthighs. You're wearing tights again, because of course you are.

He knows, within about a second, that he isn't gonna be able to make it to Busan without being inside of you at least once. There's gotta be a side lane close by that you won't get caught in. Shit. Maybe he should just take you in the back rooms right now. Yoongi'd get over it, he's sure.

Cheeks a little hot, Jungkook is cringing at himself as he feels the blood rush to his cock. He can't be getting a semi in a GS-fuckin'-25. Wouldn't be the first time, but-

"Kook?"

"Sorry," he says with a smile, and pretends as if he was listening all along. "Was just talking with - sorry, what was it again? Yooji?-"

"Yoongi," you correct sweetly, eyes so smitten that Yoongi thinks stabbing himself in the eye with a motor oil dipstick would be less painful.

"Yeah, that. Didn't really how much we have in common. Both love our cars, real penchant for good soju..." Both wanna rail you so hard you forget your own name. "Interesting guy."

You look over to Yoongi, and it's clear as anything that he doesn't agree with a single word of what Jungkook is saying -but you think Jungkook is trying, and that only makes those eyes of yours even drunker in lo-

"You not have a hotel to get to?" Yoongi grimaces.

"Pollution's bad today, baby," Jungkook mumbles softly into your hair, ignoring Yoongi. It's said out of concern for you, but also for himself.

It's easier for him if your face is a little obscured; easier to deny that you're the one he's holding onto for dear life as he leads you out of the shop. You think nothing of it, pulling up the mask that had been resting below your chin before the cold wind gets a chance to hit your face.

He's not wrong - the midday skies are clouded, a thick smog obscuring the mountain peaks that you love to look at so much. You love the winter sun, but it has you wishing for rain. It always clears the skies a little more; brightens the world up.

Daegu is dreamy, in the obscure, nightmarish kind of way that made you eat cheese before bed as a child. The best kind of dreams were always the ones that made you feel something - and as Jungkook starts up the pony, you're terrified.

It's not a big deal. Going to Busan is casual. But being invited into a world that is exclusively his? Well, that's not casual at all.

It's weighted and deliberate, and intentional. He wants you there. Wants you in every aspect of his life, and yet you haven't even had the 'what are we' conversation yet.

You wait until Jieun arrives, just a minute later, before you make your departure. She says goodbye with a knowing look, and Yoongi is already out back working on breaking up a written-off car that came in for parts earlier that morning.

Jungkook's hand is on your back as he guides you out, the mask he had insisted on you wearing for air pollution purposes obscuring your face. It doesn't stop his eyes from darting all over the place, making sure he hasn't missed anyone lurking. He knows he's getting sloppy; that he could trip up at any point, and fall at the feet of the men who had sent him into your shop all those weeks ago.

But as the pair of you pull onto the highway, your dainty hand resting at the top of his thigh, nothing but the open road ahead of you and the smell of your perfume wrapping around his senses, he doesn't care.

He'd do it all again, he thinks.

In fact, he thinks he'd kiss you sooner, just to get a few more in. Your days are numbered. He knows you're not gonna last long enough to see the cherries blossom, and maybe it's better that way.

When he got into this mess, he was in search of a spring day to break; the seasons to change, and life to renew. The deeper he gets, the more futile he realises that dream was. You're the only thing he wants to see bloom, these days.

Such a shame he has to cut you from your roots, and watch you wilt instead.

────────────

Jungkook doesn't know what 'home' feels like anymore, and hasn't done for quite some time, now. He doesn't know what it feels like to be completely content, nor at ease, within his own body.

Sometimes, though, when he's behind the wheel, the balls of his feet pressed to the pedals, he thinks it might feel close.

When the scent of gasoline seeps through the vents, and a toxic combination of burnt rubber and wiper fluid clouds the atmosphere behind his tinted windows, it seems like he could have a grasp on what it means to be 'home'. Or to have one, at least.

Maybe that's why he clings to the idea of you so much, and the way that your hair smells like gasoline.

It's a trick of the mind; a subtle deception that perhaps you could feel like 'home', too.

He thinks of this as his car rolls onto a street he hasn't visited in what must be years, by this point.

He's silent, glancing over to where you nap peacefully in his passenger's seat. Light scatters through the branches of trees which are yet to bloom, refracting as it hits the pale stone in your necklace. The underside of your chin is painted in rays of rainbow light. Your throat, too. Impossible, he thinks, for someone to be so ethereal without even so much as trying. Thinks that you're magic.

But magic isn't real. He knows that deep down, beneath the scent of your hair and the taste of your rainbow stained skin, you're not real, either.

You're an illusion; a projection, just like that refracted light.

Still, he smiles as you begin to stir, neck aching from the uncomfortable position you've had it in for the last thirty minutes.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he teases, while you squeak and stretch your body out at far as you can. Palms on the dash, your head feels all stuffy and horrible, the nap only serving to make you feel even more sleepy. You bring the back of your hand to cover your mouth as you yawn, brows raised, eyes closed.

"We here?" you mumble, turning to face the road, only to find the view is obscured by cargo lorries ferrying things to the harbour.

The shipping container next to you is a deep navy blue, its history etched onto the corrugated steel with white chalk markers. It rusts at the joints, paint flaking off and scattering into the atmosphere. It's remarkable, you think, how even things built to sustain the most brutal of weathers can still have areas of weakness.

"Just about," he nods, turning the radio up a little louder now that you're awake. His phone is plugged into the aux for once, but it sounds like it's still your playlist going. It's not. He's been crafting his own, taking note of the songs you like, and adding his own into the mix. Subtle integration of you into his life, perhaps. "About 10 minutes away from the hotel."

You hum a response as you sit up a little straighter, a frown on your face. You hadn't meant to sleep through the journey, but late nights with him and early starts at the gas station have really been doing a number on you.

Jungkooks thinks he's benefitted from your sleepiness, as it made you so bloody endearing that he found himself wanting to let you sleep, instead of pulling into a vacant side-road to sort out the awkward hard-on he's had since the moment he saw you in GS25 earlier on that day.

There had been a brief moment, when the pair of you had stopped by your place to pick up your travel bag, that he'd considered making a move - but you were excited to get going, and so was he.

Why waste time in Daegu? He wanted out of there. Wanted to be elsewhere, anywhere. Wanted to hold your hand in public, with your mask off and your hood down, just to watch the way other men would double-take you.

Maybe because it's unknown - being with you, without fear of getting caught - or maybe it's because his intentions with you have changed in recent weeks. Whatever reason it is doesn't matter, though. The outcome will still be the same.

You watch as the cargo trucks begin to roll into gear, and then you're chasing the sun, heading towards your destination. Jungkook hasn't told you anything about where you're staying, just that he thinks you'll like it. Part of you hopes it will be that hotel you love along the shoreline, and as he takes a right onto the next road over, edging closer and closer to the shore, you think you might be in luck.

These hopes are short-lived, though, when you see a sign with the branding you know so well - even if you've only ever seen it online - and watch it disappear in the rearview mirror.

Funnily enough, there's no disappointment that follows this realisation. You couldn't care less where you stay. All you seem to care about is who you'll be staying with.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips when his indicators begin to tick, and his hand, flat against the wheel, begins to pull clockwise. The place he's turning the car in to is nice. Too nice. There's a surface level car park, for starters, not one tucked beneath the first floor of a drive-in motel, like you'd half been expecting.

The exterior walls are finished with European style red bricks; purpose-built and not in keeping with the dated architecture of its surroundings. There's an attitude to the building; attention-seeking without trying, refined yet unassuming. It reminds Jungkook of you, in a way. Reminds him of how no matter what you do, his focus always seems to be on you.

"Had this place on my bucket list," he says. "Opened up around the time I left town. Always said I'd stay here if I came back with someone else."

His last comment is unnecessary. He doesn't need to tell you he'd never brought anyone home to Busan, and yet he does, because it somehow feels important.

A hotel resident swings through the front door as you're getting out of the car, and you can't help but notice that the chime is eerily similar to the one of the GS25 door. Identical, almost, to the one in your stomach.

"Pretty," you muse, adoringly looking at the ivy that trails up and down the side of the building.

"Prettier in summer," he says, taking your luggage from your hands and tilting his head forward as if to say 'ladies first'. "There's another vine running through it that blooms like nothing I've ever seen before. It's too cold for it to flower, yet, I think."

You smile as you listen to him talk, enamoured that a man so brash and bold can be so delicate and gentle when he wants to be. Mindless chatter fills the space between you as you enter the lobby, and wait for the concierge to check Jungkook's booking on the system, just to find out there's been a free upgrade.

"Wish she hadn't announced that," Jungkook mumbles in your ear as you head towards the elevator. "Totally would have pretended I'd splurged out on the upgrade instead."

You laugh, and tell him that he's stupid - and that you also saw the room rates by the front desk, so in your eyes, even the standard rooms are a splurge.

He shrugs, and insists he got it cheaper online thanks to some bullshit discount he can't be bothered to lie too deeply about. He wanted to experience this hotel, and he wanted to experience it with you. He'd have paid the price, whatever.

Chances are he'll be making the money back in a weeks time, thanks to you, anyways.

Thanks to you. Because of you. In spite of you. Whatever. Same difference.

Same disgusting guilt that coats his skin like oil and drips from his body. Dare you strike a match, he's sure he'll set fire. Ablaze with the glory of whatever the fuck he feels for you; the flames of his failures smoking him to suffocation. Failure to act quick enough, failure to control himself, failure to do wrong by someone that feels so right.

He shakes the thoughts from his head, his guilt steeped stomach a constant aide-mémoire.

"613," he reminds you of the room number as you reach the sixth floor.

It's not quite the top floor, but it's far enough up that your view of the harbour will take your breath away, you're sure.

He laughs when you squeal in response, thankful for the fact you don't try and downplay your excitement like he knows you would have done when he first started seeing you. He assumes you're comfortable now. Assumes you trust him. Assumes you feel safe. Assume, assume, assume. You're rubbing off on him, it seems.

He's got a rucksack on his back, and your own bag hooked is over his shoulder, yet he still uses his free hand to hold onto your waist as he walks behind you. He's so desperate to keep you close; fearful of what could happen if you ever were to part. His fingers grip a little tighter when you take a stride further than he anticipates, and he doesn't shuffle back when you finally reach the door. He rests his chin on your head instead, and watches the light on the door handle flash green when the room key taps against it.

The pair of you walk into the room in the same position, your back pressed to his chest, his strides wide behind you, so that he can walk in time with you. It's clumsy, and awkward, and hard to synchronise, but both of you are laughing so much that you're almost distracted from the view that floods in through the wall-length windows. Almost.

You stop in your tracks when you see it, gasping at the sight. Jungkook looks up from your hair, his arms tight around you, to see what you've noticed - and then he notices it, too.

"Holy shit," you say, unable to articulate anything else.

The ocean in front of you spans for miles; endless upon the horizon, with nothing but Gwangalli bridge standing in its way. Boats dapple the vast expanse, tiny and delicate, obscured by the incredible distance between you.

It's blue. Blue, blue, blue; the skies, the sea, the way you feel sorrow in your chest from never having seen anything so beautiful before.

Jungkook is smug as he whispers into your hair, "Boy did good?"

You've not even looked at the crisp white sheets, yet, freshly laundered on a queen size bed, nor the decadent hotel decor that you're sure will be identical in every single room. The other rooms don't matter to you, though; just 613, and the boy with bleach blonde hair who had driven you to Busan in his bright red pony.

The stuff of fairytales, some might argue.

"Boy did good," you whisper back, turning your head to steal a kiss. He smiles into your lips, your body his to move as he pleases, as he begins to walk you to the bed.

A soft puff of air blows around your body as it lands on the outrageously fluffed duvet. He crawls onto the bed with you, one hand on your cheek, the other laced with yours above your head.

"View like this and all you wanna do is waste it?" You grin into his lips, voice as sweet as his touch.

He's quiet as he presses his lips to your throat, slow as he trails his tongue down it.

"Not a waste,' he says, as his teeth graze ever so gently. The firmness of his crotch is devastatingly erotic as it presses against you. "And fuck the view. Rather look at you."

You go to argue against him, but he's adamant you're far prettier. Tells you if it means that much to you, though, he'll be willing to take you from behind so that you can look at the view - which is how you end up wrapped in a duvet, hair a mess and mascara a little smudged half an hour later.

You're sat together on the floor, backs against the side of the bed, looking out at the view as his arm drapes around your shoulders. His lips are nestled into your hair, because it seems to be his happy place, but neither of you are talking. Just existing, like you so often like to do together.

There's an unspoken understanding that this is an unusual occurrence for the both of you.

He doesn't do romance. He doesn't really do anything that would ever indicate a shag is more than just a shag. He'll compliment, and he'll charm, but he'll never say any words of actual worth. Not like he does with you. He doesn't cuddle, doesn't snuggle, doesn't kiss outside of the realm of a fuck. Again, not like he does with you.

When you turn to face him, catching the countenance in his eyes as he looks at you - chin, nose, eyes, lips, eyes again - you know that any kiss that could follow would be fatal.

It would seal the deal that neither of you have been brave enough to make.

There's hesitation. His breaths are heavy, prick still a little plump beneath the sheets that covers his modesty, but he's not hard. Not horny. It's not what's leading his thoughts, nor his actions.

And then, suddenly, but somehow also so perfectly predictable, he kisses you.

It isn't simple. It isn't just because he can - but it's also not for any ulterior motive, either. It's soft, his lips not as hard against yours as they usually are. They squeeze your bottom lip, then release. And then he does it again. No welcome intrusion of his tongue. No hands roaming to your chest. No smile as he does it.

But why would he be smiling when he's terrified?

He just kisses, and kisses, and kisses. He makes no further moves, not even when you let the sheets slip, nor when you hook your leg over his lap and move across to straddle his thighs. You're so incredibly wet, his touches minimal, yet so deeply intimate, that he can feel you leaking all over him. His cock is flushed, stiff, and stood to attention, resting against the base of his abs.

Still, he doesn't really touch you. His wrists are resting on the top of your thighs, but his palms aren't lying flat. They're open, not balled into fists, and you can't quite figure him out. You feel shy and insecure, because why isn't he touching you? Doesn't he want you?

But then you go to pull away from his lips, and he whines and shakes his head.

Come back, baby, he wants to say, but it gets trapped in his throat, and all he can get out is a little grunt.

He knows he's being pathetic. Knows that he must look like a fucking weirdo.

Part of you wants to laugh; wants to ask where the man who ate his own cum out of your pussy and spat it into your mouth is.

Most of you, though, is consumed by the sheer terror that's encompassing him. You feel it too. All of this is so unfamiliar, and scary, and alarming and yet so... safe.

His palms finally lay flat, prowling to your ass, where he squeezes as if to say hello. Eventually, he pulls you further up his lap. You're raised above him, the heat of your pussy so warm, and welcoming, and inviting, that he simply can't hold back any longer.

No words are spoken, you simply nod.

You aren't kissing anymore. Just looking at one another. He doesn't drop his gaze when he lines himself up with your entrance.

It's only when you sink down onto him that his eyes close, as his head leans against the corner of the mattress. The expanse of his throat is pristine, not a hickey in sight, and you like it this way. It - you - somehow still feels like a secret. One shared, but one that is safe. Just for you. Just for him. For one another.

Jungkook lasts longer inside of you than he thinks he will. The silence is only broken by hushed whines and dulcet groans. Your hands rest on his shoulders, and stay there the entire time. It's almost like you're both petrified that changing position will change the way that you're feeling. You look at one another like you're holding hands across a tightrope, dependent on one another to stay alive.

If he falls, so do you.

But it's not the falling he's afraid of. Not really. He's been enjoying the freefall for the past few weeks, now. It's the inevitable crash and burn that scares him.

There's something about the angle, the way he's got you deep and slow, that has the tightrope tying itself in pretty little bows around the bell that lives rent-free in your stomach.

Jungkook sees the way that your brows begin to furrow. He grunts as your lips rest ajar, restless gasps shying away, hiding in your throat. His hips keep at the pace he's set. He knows what's happening, and even though he's spent the last couple of weeks desperately trying to not let happen, he knows he's gotta let you come undone.

He wants you to. Needs you to. Needs to know that it's not just him that can't control himself.

It's euphoric when it happens. His arms wrap around your back, pulling your chest to his, and only then does he realise how hard your nipples are; how much your entire body has begged him for this. He squeezes you so tightly that your back clicks, but he doesn't really worry because you're shaking on him, muscles out of control as the orgasm he was fucking into you finally cascades over your body.

You're thankful for the way he's holding you close, your pussy so tight that Jungkook finds himself whining into your neck; and then he's kissing it, pressing his teeth to your skin, holding them there as his muffled moans vibrate against you.

'Shouldn't-' he thinks, even his thoughts stuttering and getting all confused. 'Shouldn't do this. Gonna end in tears. Gonna end - shit. Gonna fucking end. Shit. So good. So fucking good.'

Pussy so good he swears he'll fuck it forever, and then his thoughts catch up with him, and he's spiralling all over again.

'Fucking disaster. Heaven in human form. Temptress devil dressed as an angel. Shut the fuck up, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,' he begins to scold himself. 'Prick. She never fucking lied -' And then his head is battling against itself. '-but she did though - she didn't - did-'

"Shut the fuck up."

He doesn't even realise he's said it until your laboured breaths and spent body seem to falter, but you fail to muster up anything more than a "Hmm?"

You're sure you must have heard him wrong.

"Nothing. Not you," he husks in your neck, though he can't really get his words out 'cause he's seconds away from spilling into you. "You sound so good, baby. So good. Gonna make me cum so fucking hard." He knows he shouldn't be encouraging it, but he can't stop. "Keep moaning for me, baby. Let me know how good I feel."

You hum a laugh, so sweet and saccharine that Jungkook thinks you must be laced in some kind of addictive substance. It's the only way to explain how he feels. He's an addict, hooked on you.

The moans that roll off your tongue aren't fake, but you let yourself be a little louder for him.

"Like that," you tell him. You're already done, spent, but you want him to feel just as good as you do, even if his size has you feeling a little sore by now. You encourage him, knowing that it'll become painful if he doesn't finish soon.

It almost feels like there's something holding him back, though. You think he's just edging himself. You don't notice the way the lines in his forehead crease together in such a way that they almost spell out words. You'd have studied them, if you had noticed. Would have convinced yourself that you could read 'trust,' in the lines, and not 'traitor,' instead.

You move your hips against his, ass bouncing against the top of his thighs in a way that you haven't done for the entire session. He's been working so hard for you that it's about time for you to return the favour, it seems.

The way his neck stretches back, eyes shut, lips pouted and perfect as he fails to formulate anything other than "fuck, baby," lets you know it's appreciated.

'I'm going to fucking hell,' he tells himself. 'When I die, which seems like a sooner rather than later kinda thing, I'm going straight down to the pits. Pussy like heaven, so fucking good that it's a sin. Angel. Angel, angel, angel, baby. Gotta have you. Can't let anyone else have you. Fuck, no. Shouldn't. Shouldn't have you. Fuck it. Need you. Oh, god. Like that. Like that.'

He pulls on your hair so that you're sat up straight as he rams into you, your fucked out face the only thing he wants to see when he finally succumbs to your body. He nods at you, as if he's trying to say something that you don't quite understand. Letting you know he's close? Letting you know that he feels the same way, too? It's unclear, but you're in no position to ask - so you just nod back, and let the rapture happen.

"Shit," he all but whimpers, and then he's in purgatory; heaven and hell meeting at some kind of divine intervention as he spills all that he is into a vessel of freedom that he isn't sure he can afford anymore. "Jesus Christ," he chokes, the mess of his load leaking from you and down his shaft.

The lines in his forehead have smoothed, now, brows open, eyes half-closed. He laughs, once, twice, unable to stop himself. He forgets it all in the wake of his orgasm; his turmoil, your troubles, the turbulent path he knows he's about to go down.

All he can think about is you, him, the present, the physical. The right now. The way that you're in Busan, and how the dreary streets of Daegu can't hurt you.

Rather foolish of him to think that little deaths would have you falling in love, when he's the one whose head feels like cotton candy, heart beating like a butterfly bursting from its cocoon.

The screen of his phone is alight on the dresser, again. You had noticed it earlier, but neglected to say anything; mainly because you didn't want to lose the moment, but also because you feared that whoever was on the end of the line could have you losing him, too.

The freedom of your arrangement, the unspoken boundaries, affords you great comforts, but also leaves you with lingering doubts. You aren't naive. You know that men his age - men in general - aren't ones to be trusted with your heart. Platonic, romantic, familial. Not a single man has ever deserved to hold it in their hands, and any that you have given the chance to have dropped it at the first hurdle. It's a death sentence, you think, giving Jungkook your heart.

So you simply won't.

But in the comedown of a fuck that really didn't feel much like a fuck, more like a meeting of minds, bodies, consciousnesses - fuck it - hearts, you find yourself thinking that maybe it would be nice to try.

You're still in his lap when he stands, his cock inside of you, even if a little soft, now. He's gentle, and slow, taking you with him, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his hips. There's comfort in his silence as he leads you to the bathroom; familiarity in his feverish need to shower.

His phone continues to ring out on the dresser, silent and sinister, the glow of his screen the only source of light other than the moon that pours in through the windows. He clocks it as he turns to close the door, while you let your body become acquainted with the pressure of the shower on your skin.

And then, he presses the door firmly shut. The world can wait just a little longer, even if only for a night.

Tonight, he's yours, even if you never asked him to be.

He's yours, because he knows that come next weekend, you really will never ask him to be.

But you're just as much his.

He'll wrap you up in a fluffy white towel, and lay down with you in white sheets, that are creased only by the illustrations of your entanglement. He'll give you a tissue, white, to clean yourself up with, after he loses himself inside you once again. He'll laugh with you, teeth on show, white, as you talk into the early hours of the morning. He'll watch the moon reflect in the ocean waves with you, white, until you both fall asleep.

And you'll feel all pink; rosy cheeks, blushed lips, bubblegum heart and peachy pigmented skin from his kisses that bloom like posies. Pink like the early dawn skies over quiet ocean waves, and pink like your favourite wine that can get you tipsy with just a few sips. Pink and pretty like his lips that pout even when he's asleep. Pink like the pads of your feet as you tiptoe to the bathroom to get a glass of water as quietly as you can. Pink, like the faint light next to the plug socket where his phone is plugged into a charger. Pink, like the tiny light at the top of his screen to let him know he has a flurry of unread notifications; missed calls.

Except it's not pink at all.

It's red.

Your eyes are just tired, and you're deluding yourself. Just like you have been of every single red flag that Jungkook has presented to you so far.

But when you look at the mess of blonde hair that belongs to the man hidden in the white sheets which have kept you warm all night, everything is pink again.

"Sleep," he mumbles as you crawl back into bed, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close. His lips rest in the crook of your neck, a lazy kiss delicately finding its home there.

"I'm sleeping," you whisper, the white lie nothing more than a joke that you're both in on.

"Promise?" he sleepily humours you, to which you smile.

"Pinky."

────────────

There's a magic to sea air.

It's not quite Disney, and definitely isn't Hogwarts, but it's something. It makes you feel all excited, and giddy, and like the world is at your feet. If you say the right words, or swish and flick a little bit of driftwood in the right order, then maybe you'll find that the world isn't all that hard to acquire.

Because maybe it's not the sea air that's magic. Maybe it's just what comes with being beside someone like Jeon Jungkook.

You quickly learn that there's a side to him you never knew. It's one that's incredibly mundane, but just as refreshing as the peach teas he points out to you on every cafe menu, 'cause he knows how much you like them, and doesn't want you to miss out on the opportunity to indulge in something you find such simple pleasure in.

Jungkook smiles.

He smiles a lot.

He smiles at the harbour views, at the elderly as they walk past, and at the market stall owners who charge him far too much for a stick of strawberry tanghulu. He smiles when you ask him about his life in Busan, and he smiles when you get distracted by every single dog you walk past, regardless of the conversation you've been engaged in.

He smiles when you tell him you fancy Italian for dinner, instead of engaging in an awkward back and forth of 'what do you want?', 'no, what do you want?'.

He smiles when you reach the halfway checkpoint of the Igidae coastal trail. You're leaning on the wooden bannister, clearly out of breath but pretending to look at the view instead - and it's a beautiful view, at that. Clear blue skies, waves that crash and mellow within the same second, and an endless cerulean sea.

He thinks about all the possibilities out there, and half-wonders if maybe he could just get on a boat with you and say goodbye to the choices he's made.

The only choice he's been sure of lately is you, and when his horizon is blocked by your sloping shoulders and claw-clipped hair, he's pretty sure you're the only opportunity he wants to experience from now on.

He's never walked this trail before, but he wanted to show you the best of Busan, hoping it would convince you that you're also seeing the best of him. As he pulls on your hand, pointing out the little numbers some poor soul had scribbled on the stairs to reassure other hikers how many were left, you're positive that you'd walk the trail a thousand times over, just to be met with his smile at the end.

Because Jeon Jungkook smiles.

He smiles and he smiles and he smiles.

He smiles over dinner, in a tight little hole-in-the-wall pizzeria, that at least attempts to make pizza authentic, even if they do have '+corn, 500w' next to every single option. He smiles when he tells you to put your card away, 'cause it's on him, and then he smiles when you trip on the ledge between the restaurant and the street.

You don't fall because he's holding your hand with a grip so tight you swear your fingers might actually fall off.

"One beer and you're legless," he teases, his hold on your hand tightening as he loops his arm over your shoulder. It's a warm embrace; one that fills your nose with the scent of his aftershave, and plasters an equally large smile on your face. He's infectious, it would seem, and not once has he insisted that you wear a mask since you arrived in Busan.

"Fuck off," you laugh, walking down the street together as if this is how it's always been.

Not a single person gives you a second glance, not even the middle-aged men sat drinking outside of the bar at the end of the street. It's dark, lamposts and decorative fairy lights guiding you home, the city alive with the hustle and bustle of whatever happens after dark. The noraebangs in the area are all hostess bars, and the actual bars are packed, so home is where you're headed. There's no company you'd rather keep than one another's.

"I love this place," you muse. There's a vibrancy here that you've been missing in Daegu, but if you were to take a moment to think about it, the cities have nothing to do with it. It's the boy, and the lack of distractions from him, that you really enjoy.

"Home sweet home," he replies nonchalantly. "Ain't nothing like it."

"You miss living here?"

Your question is met with silence. You leave it a moment, thinking that Jungkook is just debating his answer. Perhaps it isn't something he's ever given much thought to before. That seems like a safe assumption to make.

The answer would reveal a truth that Jungkook isn't quite ready to admit to just yet - but he wants to admit it. Wants to tell you everything.

All the things you should know, and all the secrets he wishes you'll never find out.

It's inevitable that one day you will find out, and he wonders if it would hurt more coming from his tongue. Regretfully, he thinks it will. To lie is to be merciful, or so he tells himself.

"You're so-" he begins so decidedly that it's almost a surprise, yet he cuts himself off. It's like he shocked even himself with the outburst. He glances down to his hand - the one you're holding onto - laughs, and then gazes back to the end of the street, where the dark tide is rolling onto a shallow beach. With a shake of his head, he says 'fuck it' to his reservations, and tries out a little honestly. "You're fucking with my head, you are."

There's a smile on his lips despite the accusation, and it has you smiling, too. You think nothing of it more than flirtatious banter.

"Oh yeah?" You toy. "How so?"

He knows this tone of yours, and knows you've taken it well; knows that all he can do is play along, so as to not raise suspicions. He doesn't mean to be so erratic with his thoughts, and in turn, his words - but he isn't kidding. You really are fucking with his pretty little head.

"How are you not?" He flirts back. "Can't think straight when I'm around you."

He watches as you drop your head, your nose all scrunched up, in the same way his own nose scrunches up whenever you're too kind to him. The only difference is he doesn't believe he's being kind at all.

You deserve more than he can - or is willing to - give you.

There's untapped potential between the pair of you, that will sadly remain that way. He figures he should make the most of this while it lasts; hold your hand as much as he can, get lost for days in the scent of your hair, and make you laugh for hours on end. He knows he'll miss hearing it when it all ends.

You don't know it yet, but you'll miss it too.

Maybe you'd do things differently if you knew that your time was limited.

"You're stupid," you reply rather childishly, because it's the best your bashful brain can think of. "Is that why you nearly hit me that night on the bridge? When you were racing? Too distracted by how much of a mindfuck I am?"

"You have any idea how much easier my life would have been if I had just hit you?" He muses, looking down at you.

You wait until he's finished his words to look back at him, but you wish that you hadn't, 'cause there's a look in his eyes which makes you think he isn't lying.

It should scare you - but like an uncomfortably awkward damsel in distress from a vampire movie, crushing on a bloke who is definitely a little bit too creepy for anyone's liking - it doesn't.

"Far easier," you guess, not letting your smile drop. "Waking up next to me must be torture."

"Waking up next you," he nods. "Sharing my aux with you, paying my water bill after learning just how much you like showers hot enough to kill a lobster. Hate it all."

"Oh god, me too," you say quickly before his lips cut you off for a second, only to let you finish a moment later. "Hate it so much. So glad we're on the same pa-"

This time, it's not the lips of the boy you like a little too much cutting you off, but the voice of a boy you're sure you could grow to like just as much, if ever given the opportunity.

"Well I fuckin' never," a voice booms from across the street in your direction.

You ignore it, not really thinking anything of it - just some rowdy lads who are talking amongst themselves after a few too many beers, you assume - until Jungkook's head snaps in the direction of the voice.

His expression is startled, but quickly softens to his usual boyish disposition. There's a defensiveness, though, to the way his hand tightens around yours - until he drops it altogether.

"Kim Taehyung," Jungkook beams, adjusting his posture so that you're partially shielded from the man across the street, who's checking both sides to make sure it's clear before he crosses.

He's handsome, in a way that's entirely different to Jungkook. His broadness isn't exclusive to his shoulders, but the way he carries himself, and the sleazy smile that rests on his lips where a cigarette fits snug. He exhales, and crosses the road, the grin on his face only getting larger.

"Jeon Jungkook," he nods, greeting him with such familiarity that you feel all embarrassed.

You've no idea who this man is. His name has never been mentioned before. In fact, no names have ever been mentioned. There's little you know about Jungkook.

Sure, you know how he mindlessly fidgets, and how he whines when your tongue strokes against his taint, but what do you really know about him? Nothing of any value. Nothing that signifies you're of any value to him.

"And who's this?" Taehyung asks, but Jungkook's reply only further confirms your assumptions.

The question is addressed to you, Taehyung looking just as dangerous as that cigarette in his mouth is. He's a slow burn, you think, the kind of boy who'll grow on you, and before you know it, you'll be just another victim of his charm. It's unsurprising that he would be acquainted with Jungkook. After all, the company you keep is a reflection of yourself.

You look to Jungkook, who looks over his shoulder back to you. He's not really looking at you, per say, not how he does when you're alone. When he turns back to face Taehyung, you see the way his cheeks rise to smile, and you don't mind his coldness all of a sudden.

But then he opens his mouth and you think if you weren't such stone-cold bitch, you'd cry.

"Just a friend from Daegu. No one special."

It's humiliating, granted, but any reaction would only serve to embarrass you both - so you simply keep quiet, and smile. Your brows lift a little, eyes on Taehyung, who takes a toke as he looks between you and Jungkook.

He's smirking as he exhales, like he knows Jungkook is full of shit.

"Well, fuck me. I gotta find myself some friends in Daegu. Taehyung," he says as he holds his hand out for you to shake, with a look on his face like he hasn't eaten for a week.

There's something about him that's refreshing. He's an asshole, yes - undeniable - but at least he doesn't pretend not to be, like Jungkook does. He's undressing you with his eyes in the same way that Jungkook does with his hands. And for what Jungkook just said? You're pleased. Maybe you should let Taehyung take you home instead - after all, according to Jungkook, you're just a friend from Daegu. No one special.

"Uh-uh," Jungkook shakes his head. He's teasing, but he steps further in front of you, blocking Taehyung from your vision. "I know what you're like, Tae. Hands off this one."

The way he's talking makes you wanna turn on your heels and walk all the way back to fucking Daegu. Whoever it is that's currently shielding you from the danger of a fuck boy isn't Jungkook. Not the Jungkook you know at least.

"I'm just a friendly guy," Taehyung jokes back. "You know me. What brings you back home? Haven't since you since the wake. Been a while."

Jungkook's back stiffens, but Taehyung doesn't notice.

"Just some family stuff. Thought I'd make a weekend of it." He tilts his head back towards you. The movement has Taehyung's eyes on you again. To feel so unapologetically desired is thrilling, but it kind of makes you sick. You want Jungkook to hold your hand. Signify that you're his. Tell Taehyung that he doesn't stand a chance. But of course, he doesn't. "Thought I'd show her around. Visit some old haunts. How have you been?"

"All good," Taehyung replies, not really interested in what Jungkook has to say. It's formality, really. If he cared that much about what Jungkook had been up to, he would have made more of an effort to keep in touch. "Saw your brother yesterday, actually."

God, it's like one sucker punch after another. A brother? You've no idea who this man is.

"Seeing him tomorrow," Jungkook nods, and again, it's bloody fucking news to you. "He good?"

"Baby's keeping him up all hours apparently, he looks fucking exhausted. Met the baby yet?"

"Nah, nah, tomorrow," Jungkook says, and you're surprised by how... mundane the conversation is. You can't tell if they're friends, or if there's something more troubling at play. Everything feels coded, but you're struggling to read into it. You're too fixated on how much of Jungkook's life you're unaware of.

"Oh, nice," Taehyung replies. "You should come by the boxing club while you're in town. Be good to see you. I'm sure the boys would be pleased to see Busan's finest back where he belongs." He looks over Jungkooks shoulder to you, again, and smiles in that sultry way you're sure enables him to never go without a bed to sleep in. "Bring your friend with you. Think we could all do with a new friend."

The way he talks is crude. It's unapologetic, and if it were any other man, you'd probably be repulsed - but you're too busy being pissed off with Jungkook to care.

"Think I could do with a new friend, too," you hum back, lips pouty, chest a little pushed forward. "See you there?"

"Oh, I'll be waiting," Taehyung almost fucking moans.

Jungkook presses the pad of his thumb across the tops of his fingers, one by one, clicking them in their sockets. His frustration is evident, but the grave he's in is one that he dug himself.

You may feel like you don't know him, but he knows you. He should have anticipated that you wouldn't play nice after he said something like that.

But oh, on the contrary - you think you are playing nice. Very nice. For Taehyung, you'll be the nicest girl in the world.

And that's all Jungkook can think about.

It's intrusive, the thought of just how nice you can be.

He's thinking of your hair, all nice and tied up in a ponytail, and how Tae's hand could wrap around it. He's thinking about your pretty little knees, and how good you look when you're on them. He's thinking about your chest - God, he fucking loves your chest - and how it stands to attention when you're cold. And of course, you'd be cold, 'cause he's imagining all of this happening in the back rooms of the boxing club. At least you wouldn't be able to come, but he's barely been making that happen lately, anyways.

If there's one thing he hates more than the idea of you with Tae, it's himself.

Taehyung says his farewells, and lets his gaze linger on you for far too long, and says "you've got a look about you, friend from Daegu. Something familiar," before heading back to where he came from. The gaggle of lads he was with are still waiting for him. It seems as if he's in charge; the ringleader of sorts.

It intrigues you.

But he doesn't entice you the way that Jungkook does.

There's no softness to him, not like Jungkook with his big, round, chocolate button eyes and ever-scrunched nose.

You're mad at him now, though. Pissed. In fact, you begin to walk away as soon as Taehyung is gone, because you simply don't want to be around him any longer. You're even thinking about booking yourself in for a separate hotel room. Fuck his gestures, and fuck the effort he's made. Means fuck all, now.

Who the fuck does that? Who brings you to their hometown - into their life - and turns around and dismisses what you are to them so cruelly? He'd paid god knows what for that hotel, driven the pair of you to the city, paid for everything despite your protests, and asked for nothing in return.

You know full well that if you'd have gotten back to the hotel before the Taehyung incident, and had been too tired to fuck, or just not in the mood, Jungkook wouldn't have cared. Even sex wasn't something he seemed to think he was owed. Not like most guys.

He'd have probably stroked love letters onto your back with the tip of his index finger until you fell asleep, instead.

See, there are - or at least there were - no expectations with Jungkook, which is probably what makes this all so disappointing for you. Foolishly, you thought you had a good one in him.

He's a man, though. How good can they ever really be?

Heels clicking against the pavement as you walk, you sound far more powerful than you feel. You want to take your stupid fucking shoes off and launch them at his stupid fucking head. How dare he reduce to nothingness.

"Hey," he calls after you, as if he hasn't just torn your heart out, hands all bloody while he toys with it. "CC! Hold up!"

There's a trail of blood as you walk that leads to the hole in your chest, and so he follows it like a bloodhound in search of its prey.

He repeats his call when you ignore him, catching up with you far too easily for your liking. You don't like getting caught.

"What?" You snap, arms folded across your chest, but you keep on walking. A gaggle of girls walk by, far too drunk to be in heels that high, and they coo a little bit as they clock Jungkook. You find yourself sneering. "Oh look. Some more friends for you to make."

"Hey, c'mon," he reaches out for you but you shake him off, so he tries again, a little harder. It doesn't hurt, and if you want to, you can pull away.

Shamefully, you can't bring yourself to. Those with the power to hurt are also apparently those with the power to heal - and all you want is for him to put your heart back where it belongs and kiss it better.

"You know I didn't-"

"Didn't what?" You fight, because that's all you're really good at. "Mean it? Mean to say it? Or didn't think that this actually meant anything?"

"Fuck," he seethes a little, teeth gritted and jaw sharp. He loosens his grip on you, and rubs the pads of his fingers against his jaw instead, tongue pressing into the side of his cheek. His nostrils are flared, and there's bite behind his bark. "Don't turn this into something that it isn't."

"I'm not turning it into anything," you say so calmly that it's almost unsettling. "But turn it into what? A lovers tiff? No worries. We're just friends, babe. Can't turn it into one of those."

"You're being unreasonable."

"I'm being perfectly reasonable."

"CC-"

"I've got a name," you remind him. "Maybe use that, instead. CC feels a little... I don't know. More than friendly? And we wouldn't wanna blur those lines, would we?"

"Christ. Can you stop?" he pleads, the frustration he feels overwhelmed by the desperate need to control the situation. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I don't think you know what you meant, Jungkook," you shrug, because fuck letting him think you're hurt. "You just let some guy fuck me with his eyes, because according to you, we're just friends. You saw that, right? You saw the way he was looking at me like a piece of fucking meat? And you let him."

Jungkook doesn't say anything for a moment. His body is stiff, as if he's rebooting; calibrating to find an answer. Yes, he had let Tae do whatever the fuck he liked, because it was easier than explaining the truth of who you are to him. Safer. In his eyes, it had been a lesser of two evils, but you're seeing Jungkook as the only evil.

Your chest is beating so hard in your chest that the thump, thump, thump has drowned out the chime that's usually there.

"No," he tries again. "It's not like that. I know what I said, but it's not what I meant."

And then you do that thing again. You calm yourself, your voice so serene and superficial that it makes his skin crawl. He can tell how angry you are, and yet you're so fucking pleasant. It's psychotic - but how can he complain about your anger when you're fucking smiling at him like he just saved a bird from drowning?

"You don't have to explain, Jungkook. It's cool"

"No," he protests, but it's met with vacancy behind your eyes. "I do."

"No," you say, tone firm and assertive. You don't need to be let down gently. Your feelings don't need to be spared. "You know what I'm like. I need to stop making so many assumptions."

Ouch. He can practically feel the dagger you have for a tongue slicing at his heart.

"Well what did you assume?" He asks, because playing along seems like the only way he can get you to engage in conversation with him.

"My assumptions are mine," you say quietly, walking closer towards him, until your index finger can tap against his chest. "Maybe if we were friends, I'd share them with you. But I don't share with people who only know how to take. From the look in Taehyung's eyes, it seems like he knows how to give a thing or two, so who knows, Jungkook? Maybe I'll share with him."

Jungkook is silent.

It's a threat. He fucking knows it's a threat.

All those missed orgasms seem like a terrible idea, now. He thought he'd been helping, thought that you'd just think he was an idiot, like any other guy who didn't know where the fucking clit was. Thought it would help slow the feelings that are developing regardless.

But you knew he knew.

He's a fucking connoisseur. He's had you coming undone in ways that no other man has ever gotten close to. For him to suddenly forget how to make you tremble on his fingers was laughable.

You'd chosen not to mention it, because foolishly, you thought that you were the issue - but if he's gonna hurt your pride, then you're gonna hurt his right back.

You shake your head, and walk to the curb, raising your arm for the taxi that's hurtling down the road. There's a screech as it comes to a stop, almost like a reset button being pressed.

You feel a weight being eased from your chest, glad to have finally put him in his place for the no-gasm issue, but a new weight is just as heavy on your feet. You open the door, think about getting in, but can't. For some reason, the idea of leaving without him has you close to tears.

Asking the driver to wait just a minute, you turn to find him fixated on you, those soft chocolate eyes of his so warm as they stare you down. His brows are lifted, mouth firmly pursed shut, but you can see from the way his chest is beating that he's breathing heavier than his lungs can really manage.

You've never seen him cry, but you think you might tonight.

"C'mon," you eventually say, knocking your head to the side. You've a lot fight in you, but far more fear. You don't know what you mean to Jungkook, and you're not gonna kid yourself and pretend like you feel secure in it - but you know what he means to you. The idea of him staying elsewhere has you feeling all feeble and pathetic. You don't think he would, but you know that he could. "It's late. Let's just go back to the hotel."

He stuffs his hands into his front pockets and looks down, the usual confidence he wears masked by a thin layer of shame. It has a sheen to it; a stain. He's not the man that he wants to be for you, and he knows you're starting to wise up to it.

"Kook," you encourage, but he still resists.

He doesn't deserve this; doesn't deserve you. Doesn't deserve the olive branch you're extending, when he knows he should be on his knees begging like a dog.

He could do that for you. Beg like a dog, in his own, fucked up, kind of way.

On his hands and knees. Begging.

In fact, he thinks it's the only thing can do for you right now.

And so he gets in the taxi as you ask, and stays quiet.

The drive is silent, but taxi rides often are, so he tries to ignore it. When you go to pay, he holds your hand back, and offers up his card instead. The grip he has is gentle, but it burns like the heat of a thousand matches, and when it leaves, you're left smouldering. You don't want to lose the heat, no matter how much damage it can do.

Silence permeates, and dulls the chime in your stomach that you'd expect to hear in a hotel elevator with Jungkook.

So much silence.

Silence as the door to your hotel room clicks open, and silence as you kick off your shoes. Silence when your bag is tossed on the bed, and silence when Jungkook's shoes join your own.

There's silence as he walks to stand behind you while you look out onto the midnight sea, and there's silence when he presses a kiss into the crook of your neck.

There's silence when he whispers your name, and silence when you hum in satisfaction from the way his lips feel against the expanse of your throat.

Silence so loud that you want to scream.

Silence so loud that you wouldn't be able to hear the scream regardless.

Silence, silence, silence that is so fucking loud, you must be deaf.

But you can hear the small intakes of breath that he takes between the kisses he peppers on your skin. You can hear the click of his lips, and the way he whispers 'I didn't mean it,' as if it would eradicate the hurt caused by such a simple exchange of words.

And then his hands of fire are creeping beneath your shirt, and you're all warm and pliable for him.

You so desperately want proof that he didn't mean what he said, and if there's one thing you're sure of, it's that he doesn't fuck you like you're just a friend.

So you think you might just let him.

He can tell you're apprehensive and he knows why, and that he has to prove himself to you. Moonlight pours in through the window, and you're bathed in it like some kind of ethereal goddess that will surely disappear when dawn breaks. He has to make this last.

He strips you of your clothes, and funnily enough, it isn't the most vulnerable you've felt in the last few hours. In fact, you feel confident, now. You know what you're doing when it comes to matters of the body. Matters of the heart? Not so much.

Your capabilities for either of those aren't required now, though. This is all on him.

He encourages you to the bed, so you sit by the foot, and wait for instruction.

"Lie down," he says, eyes remarkably on yours, and not your tits instead. It must be a first.

It's curious how softly he looks at you; almost like you could break.

Maybe it's because he knows he has to be extra careful, because he's the only one capable of breaking you.

And so you nod, because maybe, just maybe, he could fix you, too.

In fact, when he gets to his knees and grips his palms around your ankles to drag you closer to the end of the bed, you can almost feel your heart swelling. Healing.

Y'see, it's familiar, and safe, and certain; Jungkook will fuck you, and you will mistake the way he kisses you when he cums as a declaration of something more than what it is.

For now, though, he's only thinking about ways to get you off. Anything is on the table. He'll do it all. Do whatever you ask. Do things you're too afraid to ask.

He spreads your legs apart, and spends longer than is normally comfortable staring at you. He's appreciating it; the way your lips slowly part, a little damp and so delightfully warm. He loves your scent. Wishes he could bottle it up - but for now, he'll settle for drinking from the source.

When his tongue strokes against you, it's slow. The pressure behind it feels intentional, the warm studs of his tongue piercing making your toes curl from just one touch. He exhales against you, then inhales because - fuck me - you smell divine. His tongue licks again, languid and flat, his head nodding ever so gently. The change in movement has your hands gripping onto the sheets, a shallow affirmation of 'fuck, Kook, yes' spurring him on.

He hums against you, and you swear it's better than any vibrator you've ever had. It's almost as if he's saying something, but can't get his words out - which would make sense, given the fact his mouth of full of your pussy. His tongue points, as his palms rest on the underside of your thighs to angle you a little better for him.

He pushes his tongue into your entrance, and it has you mewling. Wetness seeps into his mouth, sweet and musky, just how he fucking likes it, and he's doing that thing where he whines against you again, and you swear you might just cum right there and then.

It's noticeable, though, how your grip is on the sheets, and not him.

Your heels are digging into the duvet, not pressing against the top of his spine, and your fingers aren't in his hair.

Still, your pussy is leaking onto his tongue, and arguably, he could be fooled into thinking you've let down your guard for him.

But you haven't really.

He can see this; the way you've detached sex, and the pleasure that it coexists with, from the emotional intimacy he's fostered with you.

It's like he can touch you, but you're scared to touch him. You're using him - and he knows he deserves it.

When he pulls away from you, clear strings of slick connect his mouth to your core. The sheen covers his lips, his chin, the tip of his nose. Moonlight drenches him, and in turn, so do you. He watches how your chest heaves as his fingers come to replace the pressure from his tongue on your pussy.

Your body may be his, but you're not.

'Touch me,' he wants to say, but he's embarrassed by how badly he seems to have fucked up the one good thing going for him - and so he pushes his fingers into you, hoping that he'll be able to get you forgetting about the fact he's no good for you; get you wanting him like you used to.

And you do.

Oh god, you do, so badly.

There's nothing you want more than to have your fingers tangled in his hair, have him hissing when you pull a little too hard, keeping him locked in position against the mess he's made - but you're embarrassed. You fear that by taking any kind of leading role, you'll be forcing him to play along to something he isn't really all that into.

As much as you could pretend like you don't care about what happened earlier, it's chewing you apart, inside out, making it harder for you to get there.

Your body keens for him, though. The sounds of his fingers working your pussy are lewd, and only amplified when he spits on it in that way he always does. It drives you insane, but even now, you're floundering.

"Hey," you whisper, and your hand finally comes to rest against his hair. He leans into your touch, heart stiff in his chest as it appears to stop beating altogether. How a touch so simple can have him so damn wrecked is beyond him. He hums a response, and is met with a gentle tap against his bleached ends. He looks towards you to find you looking back, and the stillness of his heart is replaced with a beat so loud he swears it sounds like a thunderstorm is hurtling across the ocean. "Stand."

Your voice is soft, and Jungkook is confused, but he doesn't question it. He does as he's told, because quite frankly, he'll do anything you want at this point. He'd get on his knees, on his back - fuck it, he'd even get face down, ass up, if that's what you wanted - but you don't. Not now, at least. Maybe another time.

Right now, you want him as vulnerable as you feel.

When he stands, he keeps his fingers inside of you. He's gentle, massaging, making sure the movements aren't too rough. You've never shied away from things getting a little heated, but there's a time and a place for that. You don't want it hard. You want soft. Soft, soft, soft, like his eyes.

"Clothes," you say, almost timidly, unable to string your words together in a way that makes coherent sense. He knows what you mean, though, and slowly pulls his fingers from you, not caring to wipe them off. You're pristine, in his eyes. He couldn't care less about how dirty you could make him. He'd wear it like a badge of fucking honour.

He takes his shirt off first, eyes never leaving yours. He can see the way your heart is beating beneath your chest, and decides pretty quickly that he needs your tits in his mouth at some point before the night is done. His favourite fuckin' feature of his favourite fuckin' person - when he's horny, at least. He could list a million things he likes just as much, but his brain kind of just short circuits when he can see your chest looking all heavy and pliable and like it belongs in his mouth.

There's a clang, the metal of his belt tapping against itself, his tattooed fingers working quickly to rid himself of all his constraints. He pulls it from the loops of his trousers, tossing it on the bed just in case he'll need it later.

Your lips rest ajar, but you close your legs a little, watching him unbutton his jeans. He lets them drop, revealing the white of his Calvins.

He usually wears dark boxer briefs, which are always welcomed by you - but there's something about the white that has you salivating.

The outline of his cock is thick. He's stiff, and there's a tiny tell-tale mark of precum leaking from his tip. The contrast of his honey skin against the crisp white is the kind of visual you'd expect to see on a Hollywood billboard; not in your hotel room with you.

He'd worn them deliberately, expecting this kind of reaction, but had anticipated a far different feeling in the room.

The look on his face doesn't match the confidence that his strong body oozes. His wide eyes are just as vulnerable as yours. You both look like you're gonna fucking cry, which is actually kinda funny, when you think about it - but you don't laugh.

Perhaps that would be the most vulnerable thing you could share with him, and he with you: tears. There's a heaviness between the pair of you, the weight of unspoken words, hidden truths and deceptive intentions, which have led to the cluster fuck that is the relations of which you engage in.

It's just fucking, but it's also not. Not really. If it was just fucking, he'd be railing you right now, just like he did on that very first night you spent together.

But instead, he's cautious as he asks, "Where do you want me?"

You have to bite your tongue and stop it from saying 'inside me.' You're trying to keep your heart safe. Distance is needed. You're scared he's gonna steal it if he gets too close.

Pulling your legs up, cross-legged in front of him, you give him a look that he doesn't understand, but one that he knows means no harm.

He thinks you're asking permission to move, so he nods, and is proven right. You crawl a little further towards him, on your knees, until you're at the end of the bed. You sit up on your knees, shorter than him still, but the height is more matched than it is when you're standing on solid ground.

You give him that look again, and so - of course - he just nods. He's yours. You can do whatever you fucking like to him. He'd take anything you'd give him, pleasure or pain. He's stoic in the way that he stands, but you can see his jugular vein beating like he's just gone three rounds in the boxing ring.

Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, right where the V of his hips meets the fabric, your eyes are on his.

It's torture, knowing you could be watching his thick, swollen cock spring free, but this isn't about the sex. Not really.

He bends a little, pushing his underwear to his ankles, kicking them off to the side and resuming his position in front of you. You still haven't looked at his cock, even though the thought of it has slick wetness seeping onto your inner thigh.

Your hand finds one of his, and pulls it to his cock. It throbs as you wrap Jungkook's hand around it, nodding at him, before retreating.

He's stood at the end of the bed, naked, hand tight around his fat, leaky cock, eyes on yours as you sit by the pillows. Your legs are crossed, knees up, covering your chest, light from the moon washing over you both.

He looks heaven-sent in this light. A white halo whisps around his fluffy blonde hair, the thick lines of his tattoos defined, his body carved from marble. And yet there's still a softness to him. It's in his eyes. Big and round; home in human form.

And so, for all the fear, for all the ways he has you scared about his intentions, for all the sheer instances of turmoil you put your heart through, none of it really matters.

In this moment, you feel safe.

"Wanna watch," you say quietly. You can see the way he swallows, his chest doing a terrible job of hiding the fact he actually seems to be a little bit nervous.

"Watch?"

You nod. "Wanna watch the way you get yourself off."

The request is simple, but it feels more complex than that - and it is. You want him vulnerable. You want him weak. You want him falling apart all over you without even so much as a single touch from you.

In his heart of hearts, he knows all this.

He knows, and still, he wants to do it for you.

There are sins to repent, and this feels like a start.

"Wanna see the way you touch yourself when you think about me," you continue, because you like the way his eyes look so pure and chaste at such a request.

There's a shadow to his face, the moon only illuminating half of his body, but it runs deeper than that. Divine feminity is a gift from the celestial body that watches over you, and it overcomes him, too.

Despite the hardness of his muscles, the metal of his piercings and the stiffness of his cock, he's so, undeniably soft for you.

Soft and velvety, just like his eyes. Soft and timid, like the boy who cried wolf and finally got caught. Soft, and softer still, when he says your name in such a hushed tone it barely reaches your ears.

"You do that, right?" You ask, though the answer is granted by how utterly enthralled he is with you - or at least, your body. "You think of me when you touch yourself?"

He nods, licking a slow stripe across his lower lip, before biting down on it.

His tight fist begins to roll up his cock, slowly bringing it back down again to the base of his shaft. There's a hypnotic quality to the way his foreskin retracts, exposing how red and flushed the tip of his cock is. There's desire burning through it, and he needs you - your pussy, your mouth - to soothe it.

He knows he isn't getting it, so instead, he revels in the pain that comes with being refused your body.

He's tepid as he starts, but his pace quickly builds, and so does the way he's moaning. It's a miracle you can even remember how to breathe. His torso is tense as he lets the pleasure run over his body, head tipping back, the expanse of his throat thick and wide, just like his cock.

He hums, imagining the way your pussy is leaking as you watch the show he's putting on for you.

He's not a performer, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the way he moves his body has you thinking that maybe in a past life, he could have been. You'd pay good money to watch him on stage. You'd devote yourself to him. Watch from the crowd as he sold himself to a thousand people every night. He'd be the main event, the headlining act, and maybe if you were lucky, he'd stick around for an encore.

What a shame, you think, that he never took advantage of his boyish charm and deliriously handsome face - but more fool him. You're the one who gets to reap the benefits, as you watch him now, free of charge, front row seat.

And yet, somehow, he seems to adore the crowd more than the crowd adores him. It fills your ego. Has you convinced that you've ruined this poor boy's life. Maybe you have.

"You're gonna think of me for the rest of your life," you tell him of your conclusion from your perch up by the pillows.

He so often talks in definitive certainties, that it's only fair you return the favour - but, remember, you're just friends, according to Jungkook. Best not to get ahead of yourself.

You find yourself prowling down the bed on all fours, stopping just beyond his reach. There's something primal about his gaze now. Predatory - but you aren't his prey. You're not going to get caught.

"Give it twenty years," you simper, rolling onto your back so your ankles are by the pillows, eyes on his cock as you tilt your head back. Kneading one of your boobs, you let your other hand dip between your legs. "When you're married, and your poor wife can't get you hard anymore, it's gonna be me who you think about."

"Shit," he hisses, both hating and loving what you're saying. Hating it because you're probably right, but loving it because, again, you're definitely right.

"It's gonna be me," you repeat. "When you get hard in your car, 'cause another girl has put her hand on your thigh. It's gonna be me you're thinking about."

He wants to protest. Wants to tell you that there'll never be another girl. He'd be lying, probably, but fuck knows why he'd ever give you up. Would have to be insane, you think, or something like that.

You know just as much as he does, that symbiotic energy like yours doesn't occur all too often.

"When your couples therapist asks what you think could be done to spice up your dead marital bedroom, it's gonna be me - gonna be this, right now - that you think of."

"C," he husks, unable to even get the full term of endearment out. There's a clammy sheen to his body now, his arm jerking at such a pace his veins are all engorged and pretty, just how you like them.

"It's gonna be me," you say again, barely a whisper, but it's enough.

And he agrees. "It's gonna be you."

Victory and defeat all in one blow; you're his forever, but it's likely he won't be yours.

He senses the heaviness behind his words, and the weight they've put of your chest, so he tries distraction as a method of easing it.

"Open your legs," he husks, the final syllable catching in his throat. When you do as you're told, he fucking whines.

The slickness pooling around the top of your thighs is sticky and hot, strings of clear fluid connecting your legs - all of you - together as you spread yourself for him. He nods, and it's your turn to obey, now.

Your fingers begin to rub at your clit, and Jungkook almost just give himself upright in that second. He swallows back the saliva that's pooling in his mouth, his cock growing hotter and heavier in his grasp. The way he's pumping himself is gonna have him finishing far quicker than he'd like, but he can't stop.

Not when you're looking up at him like that. Not when you're matching his moans.

"Don't stop," you almost beg as you see him begin to ease up. Returning his eyes to yours, his lips are parted. His hand continues to jerk, just a little slower.

"I gotta," he whines, but does as he's told, his grip a little looser than it had been. The muscles in his abdomen are tight. His balls, too. You want them in your mouth.

He watches as you turn, resuming the position you'd been in earlier.

As you wrap your arms around his neck for support, Jungkook finds himself grunting, picking his pace back up. He can smell you, your gasoline hair and sweet pussy, and it has him unable to think straight. Unable to do anything other than jerk himself off for you, because it's what you want.

The world. He'd give you that. If you wanted it, he'd give you it. He thinks he'd give you anything. Everything. Whatever he could.

The only thing he can't give you, not really, is himself.

And so he'll settle for everything and anything else your heart could ever desire.

But as your lips meet his, he knows that he's fucked, and that the only thing you really want is him.

Your kisses are slow, and tepid; a stark difference from the way his hand is working his cock, but it's everything he needs. How selfish, it is, that he still gets what he wants.

Unaware, you pull away, pressing your foreheads together, lips brushing his as you say, "you're gonna cum for me, now."

He tries to ask where, but you just kiss him instead. You kiss, and you kiss, and you kiss, and he's so fucking consumed that he barely notices when he starts gasping against your lips. His body begins to stall, muscles mirroring the way he begins to stutter, and then it's happening.

The tip of his cock is pressed against your stomach as he begins to unload himself, once, twice, and then he's sensitive, and trying to pull back, but he's still coming and - "Oh, fuck, babe" - he's painting you white with the innocence of the way he feels about you.

It's everywhere by the time he's done; your tummy, the underside of your breasts, dripping down to the mound of your pussy. He can barely fucking breathe, so caught up in the way it always feels to have you kiss him through his orgasm.

His hands grip your jaw, pulling you in for more, because he needs to distract his mouth from the words he's scared are gonna tumble from it. You both ignore the fact they're covered in the seed that's just spilt over onto them. It's nothing new, after all.

It's not like he's gonna declare love, or anything fucking ridiculous like that, he just doesn't know how the fuck he feels - and that's dangerous.

Unpredictability only leads to messiness, which it could be argued is what's happening right now.

Still, Jungkook hooks his hands beneath your ass and moves onto the bed with you, and thinks it's a pretty nice problem to have.

His cock is firm still, nestled in the warmness of your pussy as your legs wrap around his hips. Neither of you care about his cum, and it's interesting how often you seem to be covered in one another, with no desire to rid yourselves of it.

He didn't make you cum, but it was your choice, this time.

It's funny, because you're one who is scared now that an orgasm could have you falling in love. You don't want to give him that power back. Not yet, at least.

Your kisses dissolve into light pecks, the pair of you unable to hold back from worshipping one another. But you must, for it's foolish to idolise mortal Gods.

"This doesn't seem very friendly, Kook," you whisper.

Your chest feels uneasy as you joke. He closes his eyes, hanging his head in shame against yours, knowing that it was him and his inability to ever say the right fuckin' thing that had you refusing to fuck him that evening.

He's not stupid. He knows you stopped him from making you cum. He knows why. And he hates himself for it.

He presses a kiss against your cheek, once, twice, and works his way to your lips. It's goofy, the way he's planting little seeds of love all over your skin, but only time will tell if he'll water them. For now, you think you'd quite like to imagine the wildflower garden that could bloom in their wake.

"It's cause it's not, CC," he admits. "It's not very friendly at all."

And then, you just can't seem to help yourself as you tease, "Even if I'm just a friend from Daegu?"

He smiles, because he knows you're trying to soothe the burn of his words. Naked, spent, and vulnerable, Jungkook rolls off of you, repositioning himself so that you can rest your head on his chest. Still, neither of you care to get cleaned up. There's no disgust, nor discomfort.

More fool the both of you for thinking that this isn't love.

"You're my only friend from Daegu," he whispers, pressing a kiss against your hair. It's not strictly true, but he sort of wishes that it was. Wishes he knew you before he knew them.

"What about your other friends?" You ask gently, because maybe it's your fault you don't know more about him. Maybe you just haven't been asking the right questions.

Jungkook pulls the comforter over your body, 'cause he can feel how hard your nipples are against his torso, and guesses that you aren't exactly still horny now that you're asking him shit like this. Again, there's zero care for clean up just yet. Zero care for anything but one another.

And then you tack on an extra little question that has Jungkook mentally groaning.

"Who's Taehyung?"

Convinced that you're snug like a little comforter-human-burrito, Jungkook holds you tightly. He's still stark bollock naked and doesn't really care to be covered, but he wants you warm. Wants you happy.

And knows that your happiness, now, rests on open communication.

"I knew Taehyung in high school," he eventually admits. "We were both on the boxing team, and we were friends, but -" he stops, and laughs a little. "Well, I kept beating him. So on the days I'd stay behind and work on my form, shit like that, Tae would..." Jungkook sighs. And then he laughs again. "This is so embarrassing." He gently shakes his head, and then thinks fuck it. You deserve the truth, so the truth is what you're gonna get. "I started going to club more often, thought about going pro. I was pretty serious about it. Got to the point where Tae couldn't compete with me - but one thing he could do, apparently, was fuck. And I didn't know, but apparently, he could turn that into a competition, 'cause on the days I trained alone, he'd go hook up with my girlfriend."

It doesn't upset Jungkook anymore. Not really. Annoys him a little - and means there was no way he was letting Taehyung think you meant anything more to him than just casual sex.

"Shit," is all you can say.

"Yeah," Jungkook sighs. "Went on for like, 6 months. I didn't know till my dick started fucking burning. Turned out he'd given her chlamydia from someone else and in turn, me."

"Bastard."

"Right? At least wrap it up if you're gonna fuck about. Anyways, after that, it was rare for him not to pursue any girl I was interested in," Jungkook finally admits, and it feels good to get it out. Good to share. Fucking fantastic, actually. "Me saying what I said... It was a defence mechanism more than anything, and I'm sorry. I just didn't wanna give him any reason to try it on with you."

You nod slowly, because there's a lot to unpack. "What happened? With the girl?"

"We broke up," he says honestly. "That was the nail in the coffin, really. He's done it with a few other girls I've dated or fucked since then, to the point where it's definitely a pattern of behaviour, but I tend to avoid serious relationships. If I'm being honest, I haven't had one since."

"Since high school?"

God, it's mortifying, he thinks. "Since high school."

Heartbreak is a funny thing, though. You're similar in that regard. Neither of you ever want to give another person the power to break the one thing keeping you alive. It's just asking for trouble.

Then again, every single fucking thing about your 'friendship' is asking for trouble. Maybe it's fitting.

"I'm sorry," you say, because you're not sure what else to say. He squeezes the comforter bundle you're in and shrugs.

"Don't be. Just please don't have sex with Kim fuckin' Taehyung."

You laugh, because such a thing feels absurd - but it would do. You trust Jungkook. You care about Jungkook. Care for him. Care for his opinions, his well-being.

Would be a shame if that ever were to change.

But that doesn't feel like a possibility right now, so you simply don't think about it. Instead, you ask the question that you've been holding back, because you wanted to at least look a little compassionate before you got ahead of yourself.

"So what you said to him about me," you begin, and he rolls his eyes, 'cause he knows exactly where you're going with this.

"So what I said about you."

"You lied."

"I lied, CC."

The way he whispers it back to you has you all giddy and docile for him. He's dangerous, in the most delectable way.

"You like me," you accuse, and you're met with a shallow kiss, his lips curving upwards because he can't help but smile at how fucking smitten you look.

"I'm terrified of you," he smiles. "The way you make me feel scares the living daylights out of me, CC. This isn't... I'm not good at this. I mean, hello? Been out of practice since high school."

"Mmmm," you interject, questioning his statement. "You've fucked plenty of girls since high school."

His eyes roll again, because he knows you're just trying to get him to be specific.

"What do you want me to say, huh, CC?" He nudges his nose against yours, his grin prevailing as he sinks them down into a kiss. "That I spend my whole entire fuckin' day thinking about you? You stay at my place all the time. My Netflix account reckons I'm halfway through season one of Gossip Girl." You smile. It's a guilty pleasure. You watch it at his place when he leaves early for work, or on the days you arrive before him. "There's a spare toothbrush by my sink, and it's yours."

The way he emphasises 'yours' has the chime in your stomach ringing like a church bell.

"I haven't been serious about anyone since high school, so yeah, I'm a bit out of practice. I don't wanna put labels on things or move too fast or say things I can't take back. I just know it would really fucking sting if you slept with Taehyung," he smiles, attempting to lighten the fact he's basically just put his heart on the line for you. "So please just... don't."

The issue is, Jungkook's forgetting himself.

He's forgetting that you're not just you. He's not just him. The way you met wasn't organic like you think it was, and he's letting himself get wrapped up in the idea that the pair of you are just normal people who found one another despite all odds.

The thought creeps into his mind, but frankly, he wants it to fuck off. So he kisses you. Slow and deep. Just him, and you.

If he'd have met you under different circumstances, he'd have probably already asked your father's permission to-

And then it hits him. The reminder that he can never have a happy ending with you, all thanks to your fucking father.

Jungkook asked you to come to Busan for a reason. There are things you need to see, things you need to understand before it all goes to shit.

"I want you to come somewhere with me tomorrow," he husks against your lips, your noses stroking gently against one another. "Somewhere important. I've got some errands to run, and I'll see my family alone, but after that, I wanna show you something."

You nod to confirm that it's okay. Of course, you don't mind him seeing his family alone, and you could do with running a few errands yourself, so it works out well. He's opening up. Sharing. And that's all you can ask for.

It has you thinking that maybe you should do the same for him.

"Thank you," he whispers.

It's a loaded phrase, and you're not sure which part he's thanking you for, but you accept it nonetheless.

This is progress, you think.

Funny, 'cause Jungkook's the blonde one. If anyone should be a dumb bitch, it's him.

But the blonde is fake, and he's smarter than he should be after all those blows to the head in the boxing ring.

You're private school educated. Could have been anything you wanted. Could have had the world. Your daddy worked hard to make sure of it.

But as Jungkook leads you to the bathroom, stripped of everything except for the stain of his sex, you think you already have the world.

You think, for once, you finally have something good that isn't the result of nepotism or political fear.

Your daddy worked hard. He worked real hard. He gave you the world, and then some - but the world doesn't come for free, and there's a little collateral that he never counted on caring enough to fuck with his self-made solar system.

Yeah, your daddy gave you the world.

But it's Jungkook's job to give it back to its rightful owners, whether he wants to or not.

And so, as the shower begins to heat up, and the pair of you are doing what you do so well, his phone begins to buzz in the bedroom. It goes unnoticed. It's not Jungkook's priority anymore, which leaves him in quite a predicament.

The outside world can wait for a moment. He's letting himself indulge in the fantasy of you one final time.

What a brilliant, intangible fantasy you are.

But fantasy is just that;

a lie.

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